THE ARCHIVE

So far I have been writing a lot about my weekend activities and not too much about daily life here at Poggio Colla. We only have four more days of excavation before having to draw, photograph and backfill the trenches. Here’s a run-down of our daily routine (before it all comes to an end!):

• 05:40 Wake up
• 06:10 Depart staff housing
• 06:30 Arrive at Poggio Colla, climb up to excavation site, prepare trenches
• 07:20 Students arrive, begin excavation

We use pick axes, trowels and brushes to remove dirt stratagraphically.  This is sometimes a long and tedious process… but very exciting when coins and pottery turn up.  So far I have found iron lumps, a nail, lots of pottery sherds and foundation walls.

Every bucket of dirt is sifted through a 1/4″ grate.  Digging can be exhausting in the sun–this is one of the supervisors writing in her trench notebook under her personal bit of shade.

• 10:00 Cookie break! (15min.)

This is the best part of my day.  The cookies taste a little bit like cardboard, but they go down great with Nutella.

• 12:30 Lunch (30min.)

At the end of the day, I spend most of my time running the total station.  We “shoot in” every official find and the data is rendered in 3-D AutoCAD.  We also measure the position of foundation stones to create a total site plan of Poggio Colla.

• 16:00 Depart Site
• 16:20 Wash pottery (30-60min), shower, nap(?)

No… the day isn’t over after leaving the hill.  Students return home and wash the context potter found in their trenches that day.  This sometimes lasts right up until lecture (showers be darned!)

• 18:45 Lecture (60min)
• 20:00 Dinner

Dinner is served at two locations and lasts for up to two hours.  Most of the food is incredible–the only exception so far was tripe (cow stomach), which I couldn’t bring myself to eat.

• 22:00 Sleep

… and then it all begins again!

Here’s another recipe from my friend’s gluten-free Italian cookbook. I’m curious what you all think of it. If you make it, send along a picture and I’ll post it here (I’ve heard that food photography is extremely difficult though). Cheers.

Ingrediente:

• 2 zucchini
• 3 potatoes
• olive oil
• salt
• palm full of pepper- fresh ground
• 4 cloves garlic- chopped
• palm full of mint- chopped

Preparazione:

1. Wash, slice zucchini and potatoes (about ¼ inch thick).
2. In one bowl, pour olive oil (about 1/3 cup) and mix in the pepper.
3. In another bowl, pour olive oil and the chopped garlic and mint.
4. Grill potatoes in a pan with salt until brown on both sides.
5. After potatoes are cooked, put them into pepper bowl and evenly cover with the mix. Sprinkle with 2 pinches of salt.
6. Grill zucchini in the same manner; after grilling, cover with garlic and mint mixture.
7. Now eat your vegetables… and enjoy it.

Buon Appetito!

Uhhh… so I washed my passport.  It was pretty tattered when I pulled it out of my pants, and my Italian visa has lost a bunch of its ink.  Luckily, here at Poggio Colla, we have a conservation staff that is trained in the restoration of artifacts.  They took particular interest in my passport and it is looking much better.

On Sunday we drove from Pozzallo, on the southern tip of Sicily, back up along the coast to Taormina. At about 10:30 we reached Siracusa and took a long break to explore the archaeological sites there. My favorite ruins were from the Roman Amphitheater with a large elliptical plan and underground passageways.

Then there is the larger and more cleverly positioned Greek theater with an impressive view toward the water. During our visit, many of the stone seats were covered by wooden ones to accommodate modern audiences. Surrounding the theater were an ancient quarries and several tomb-like caverns. We climbed into one to escape the heat and discovered that the stone resonates to a single wavelength. If I hummed or spoke on that note the whole cavern would shake with reverberations. I’m not sure if this was an acoustical strategy used by the Greeks or just happenstance–very cool nonetheless.

After Syracuse, we travelled north to Catania on very fast and hot roads. I didn’t like driving at these speeds very much but got very excited when a red Ferrari pulled up behind our little Vespa. We managed to keep up with the sports car for awhile until the driver got fed up with the traffic and sped ahead of about five cars in one pass.

We returned to Taormina by mid-afternoon with time to swim, find a hostel and explore town. The views were above par.

Above the town of Taormina there is an outcropping of stone with medieval ruins on it. We hiked up to this but disappointingly found ourselves confronted by a stone wall and a locked metal gate. We climbed the wall (somewhat difficult, highly illegal) and discovered a cool series of grassy platforms with wide-open views in all directions… It occurred to us later that the views were reciprocal and we may have easily been spotted. Not to worry, we made a swift getaway on the Vespa and felt that the risk was well worth it.

Later on we strolled through Taormina, watched the glow of lava on Etna and absorbed our surroundings. I am learning a great deal about fashion here in Italy. The mullet, faux-hawk and other bad haircuts are on prominent display everywhere. The group pictured below takes the cake for best fashion statement. Notice how each person’s outfit matches their hair color? Sweet…

The trip back up to Poggio Colla on Monday was absurd. The train into Roma Termini ran late and caused me to miss the fast train to Firenze. When I finally arrived in Florence at 23:30, there were no more trains going back to Vicchio. I called the director of the archaeology program, explained the situation and promised to be on the first train back in the morning.

So began my first homeless night in Florence. I didn’t really want to pay for a hostel and figured I would sleep through the 5:15 departure if I had a bed. Instead I walked out into the night looking for a party to keep me occupied. After a few hours (and drinks) I made some friends near the Duomo with whom I hung out until 4:30. I caught my train shortly thereafter and arrived at 6:15 in Vicchio, where I was picked up and taken directly to the hill for a day of excavation.

The lack of sleep didn’t faze me too much. I guess that’s what architecture training is all about.

We woke early on Saturday and refuelled with fruit and gasoline. After looking over our map we decided to head southwest toward Gela, a decent sized town on the southern coast of Sicily. The morning traffic was relatively calm and before long we were far away from both city and coast.

As we drove, the colors changed from green and blue to yellow and grey; dry fields and rocky outcrops extended for miles in every direction. We stopped midway to fill the tank (only 5 euro!) and I asked the attendant “quanti kilometri a Gela?” The response was (in Italian, of course), “Why are you going to Gela? That is a big, ugly city. You should visit Caltagirone… è Belissimo!”

We took the man’s advice and drove into the heart of Caltagirone. The town was perched at the top of a ridge with a commanding view in every direction. We walked to “la Scala,” famous stairs the width of a street leading to a little piazza. At the top we found a place to sit and made panini with salami, cheese, and bread from the grocery store in Catania (good food on the cheap!).

We arrived in Gela an hour later and went directly to the beach. The water was warmer and bluer than I thought water should be, but extremely refreshing after all the driving. Before long we hit the road again, driving east along the coast to Pozzallo. Things weren’t quite as picturesque here as I expected. First, there was the industrial park (that we got lost in for 30min.) then greenhouse agriculture and plastic everywhere.

Pozzallo was a very nice beach town. We went swimming again and exercised our liberty to drink (0,50 euro wine) in public alongside some old women doing the same. At night, roads were closed down and local people of all age groups flooded the street. In lieu of our surroundings, we were determined to eat seafood and found a wine bar that was still serving meals at that hour. Not understanding the menu completely, we each picked out a random dish. We knew something had gone wrong with our order when we both received the same food: raw shrimp, tuna and octopus. The slime was unparalleled by anything I have ever eaten before. It washed down OK with white wine and stayed there to our collective relief.

After finishing lab work on Thursday, July 10^th, I began the 14 hour train journey to Sicily. The majority of this time was spent in a night train with a very nice Sicilian woman and her six-year-old son, Salvo. The kid discovered that if he stood on the very top cushion of our seats he could hang from the storage racks above and swing around. While doing so, he sang tunes from Dragon Ball-Z and Power Rangers with Italian lyrics. The energy level didn’t diminish until about 23:30 when his mom told him to go to bed. We turned off the cabin lights, reclined the seats to about 45 degrees and fell asleep to the sound of the train rattling along the tracks.

I slept surprisingly well and awoke to a bright day in Taormina–a picturesque town on the northeast coast of Sicilia. The buses weren’t running at 6:30, so I walked up the road to meet my friend in the town square and plan out the weekend. At that point we really had no idea what we were going to do. Visit the Aeolean Islands, rent mountain bikes, ride the bus, take the train–all these things were legitimate options.

With my mother’s warnings ringing in my ears, we decided to rent a Vespa. This would postpone the decision making process for awhile–in fact there would be no plans at all. We decided to travel entirely by the seat of our pants.

So far I have seen a lot of Italy with wheels at my feet and wind in my face. This time I had an engine below the seat and felt like I could go anywhere. As we drove out of Taormina on Friday morning, the most prominent thing in sight was Mt. Etna, so we set our course directly towards its base. The motorbike carried us easily through a series of small towns and wooded switchbacks to the highest paved point on Etna’s slopes.

In about two hours we hiked over black crumbly pumas to a flat area between two peaks. This location provided us with a perfect view of the current eruptions on the eastern slope. We watched as smoke and rocks burst from the mountain, and lava spilled down its side. This sort of volcanic activity is very normal for the locals–it was both cool and unnerving for me. You’ve got to consider that this thing is a massive time bomb. Why would you want to live directly below it?

We got off the mountain in about an hour with plenty of time left to tromp around. Not wanting to retrace our tracks, we continued south to Catania, the second largest city in Sicily. The streets were packed with cars, motorcycles and pedestrians who all fought to move forward. At first I took the conservative approach by staying in my lane and following all the rules that PennDOT taught me. This didn’t work. Cars in Italy don’t expect bikes in the center of the road; they are usually racing along the shoulder or down the center line. As safely as possible I began doing this and quickly moved through town, avoiding the congestion as much as possible.

It took us ages to find a reasonable hotel but when we did, we parked the Vespa and explored town. Catania has suffered so many earthquakes and military occupations that it has lost most of its oldest architecture. The historic buildings are almost all Baroque. We made our way to the University district and ate a large pizza each. It was a full day and Vespa driving takes the wind out of you.

I went to Sicily over the long weekend to visit my friend Annie and have more stories than imaginable.  The region was beautiful and the journey epic.

Yes, EPIC.  That is probably the best adjective to describe our adrenaline-charged Vespa drive through eastern Sicily.  I don’t have time to write about it all now, but you can expect posts over the next few days.  Mt. Etna, raw fish, spandex and Italian driving techique will all be discussed…

Also (Mom), I am alive.  No need to worry after the fact:)

I stayed here in Vicchio over the weekend and explored our surroundings.  On Saturday I biked for about two hours through Borgo San Lorenzo and around a nearby lake.  Yesterday I pulled on the sneakers and attempted (for the first time in a few weeks) a 7 mile run.  Both days were fun and exhausting, but the views served as great excuses to stop and catch my breath.

On Sunday, I relaxed with a few of the other excavators here and we cooked some food for dinner.  Most students were still off on their weekend excursions, but a couple animal friends joined us for dinner: A chicken (which I attempted to buy) and an adorable kitten named Fanta (asleep on my backpack).

People keep asking me why I chose to work on an archaeological dig this summer. Students here study Classics, Art History, maybe Anthropology–but NOT Architecture. One might argue that architecture and archaeology are polar opposites. Architects begin with drawings and create an object; archaeologists begin with an object and create drawings. One works to define the present, the other the past.

So why am I here? I would be lying to claim that it were entirely for academic purposes. To some extent, I am using the program as an excuse to spend two more months in Italy before beginning classes in Rome this Fall. But in the tradition of great architects, I will post-rationalize for a moment and explain why I–the architecture intern–belong here among all the archaeologists.

The truth is that Architecture and Archaeology are parallel disciplines. They share a common interest in the built environment and a common language to describe its significance. I often think of the early English explorers who pilgrimaged to Italy and Greece to draw ancient buildings. Their illustrations set a precedent for archaeological documentation and fuelled the Neoclassical architectural style. It is hard to label these travellers as either architects or archaeologists–perhaps they were both.

Since then, it has been a rite of passage among architects to travel to Italy and explore the remnants of past civilizations that thrived here. The success of the Cornell in Rome program suggests that even contemporary designers gain from exposure to historical precedent. But why do even the Modernists among us still care about the past?

Personally, I care very little about precise dimensions, styles or classifications of ancient buildings (I will probably regret that statement later). What really excites me is the idea that architecture acts as a cultural expression–that the values, customs and economy of a given civilization are manifest in their built environment. Archaeologists who deal with pre-historic periods rely entirely on this concept: in the absence of written words, material culture is the only expression of a society. Consequently, archaeologists tend to support architect’s claim that building design really does matter.

I think there is a lot to be learned from the process of excavation itself. Uncovering remnants of human activity in two meters of dirt offers an entirely different perspective on time. In architecture firms, it is fairly common to perform life-cycle analysis on new buildings, but what sort of scale are we working with? Twenty, forty, maybe sixty years? How about twenty-five hundred?

Over this period of time, layers of architectural foundations and debris collect like the layers of sediment that hold them. The scientific approach that archaeologist employ to make sense of these palimpsests would lend rigor to the hurried site analysis that architects perform. “Don’t forget the importance of context!” the project director keeps telling us, inadvertently reminding me of Post-Modernism lectures back in Ithaca.

The methods, tools, and programs that archaeologists use to model space are often very similar those used by architects. Gaining familiarity with these while learning more about the discipline of Archaeology is an invaluable experience. I will also admit that spending time in Italy, eating incredible quantities of food and biking around Tuscany is a whole lot of fun.

This week I have spent the majority of my time surveying Poggio Colla using a Total Station (pictured above). The instrument uses a laser to measure the precise coordinates of artefacts and site features on the hill. Once this data is collected in the field it can be uploaded to a computer and rendered using 3-D animation software (some of the same programs we use in architecture).

Operating the Total Station is a two-man job. One person runs the station itself, aiming the lens and registering the points, while the other person stands at the target with a prism directed back toward the base point. The prism is at the top of a pole which must be held perfectly vertical. Whenever I’m doing this I feel like one of those street performers who make their living by standing still.

The similarity is uncanny.