Day 102 ~ Athens, by Day and Night!

April 21, 2022 

68 degrees and sunny!

Paul then stood up in the meeting of the Areopagus and said: “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: to an unknown god. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship—and this is what I am going to proclaim to you." ~ Act of the Apostles 17:22-23

The Parthenon on the acropolis ~ a bold edifice in a highly seismic area. Over the milennia, the site has been rocked by earthquake, bombarded, and vandalized. Yet part of Athena's Doric columned temple remains, thanks to the tireless renovations and repairs being done to it. However, the giant statue of Athena, the city's patron goddess, is lost in time.  

National Archaeological Museum

Here we are back in New Testament territory again. And as usual, Paul is kicking up a ruckus with his powerful preaching. But the people of Athens were quite willing to listen. This is, after all, the land of philosophers and sages, of schools of thought and seekers of answers to the "Big Questions." Greece, and Athens in particular, can be justifiably proud of its intellectual and philosophical past. 

One of the few bronze statues

After a short drive to the not very good photo stop for the Parthenon and obligatory "shopping" portion of our tour, we went to the National Archaeological Museum. While shopping makes my eyes glaze over, the prospect of a museum gives me a "meerkat moment" of high alert and excitability! 

At first, our guide was trying to keep us all together, but it's like herding cats. She gave us about an hour to explore on our own and told us where to meet her after that.  

After several rooms of almost repetitive marble statues, this bronze of a boy riding hell-for-leather on a horse that only lacks wings to fly, was an exciting find! Look at the musculature on the horse, ears laid back, nostrils flared, teeth bared. I can almost hear him snorting and blowing with effort. And the little imp on his back, convinced of his own immortality, can't decide whether to shriek in terror or triumph!

from the 5th century BC, Greece's Golden Age

There is a hint of sorrow on the face of this figure on a funerary piece, but it seems cruder than I remember Greek sculpture being. There's no sense of bones and sinews, muscles or blood coursing beneath the marble skin. 

What we didn't realize is that we were going backward in time as we moved from room to room. In the third and fourth century BC, the sculpture had lost its realism and become more stylized.  Contrast the placid head with this portion of a man's face to the left. Even as a fragment, this older work is a more complete representation of a human face. There are bags under the piercing eyes, lines around the mouth, the reminder of a frown between the brows. 

Over the centuries, the classical realism was lost and replaced by idealizing the human form instead of representing people as they are. Instead of improving, Greek art went backward. 

Each bust is of a different real person. They are not idealized. If you saw them walking down the street, you'd recognize them, warts and all. 

I was surprised that the museum didn't have many works from their Golden Age, but then I remembered where I'd seen Greek statues in the past--The British Museum, The Metropolitan in New York, The Museum of Fine Arts in Boston--and it made me think about the tension between countries over cultural treasures. I'm sure Greece would like to have her art back, and yet, when many of these pieces were unearthed it was because America, or the UK, or some other country, was willing to fund the dig and restore the finds, and to build and operate the museums that allow them to be seen, often for free, by the world. Though I will also admit that a number of countries just came a took whatever they pleased. 

A lion far removed from the Classical period.  You can tell what it is, but it's not as realistic as the older bronze horse.

So, what's the answer? Do we return the pieces only to see them disappear into some country's archives because they haven't space to display them all? I was frankly unimpressed with the Greek museum as a venue. It didn't seem to have the climate control that would ensure the pieces wouldn't deteriorate further. There were no docents stationed to make sure people weren't touching the pieces. And yet, shouldn't they belong to the country of origin as part of their cultural heritage? 

I don't know the answer. What a pity we don't have Plato or Aristotle or Socrates to untie this knot!

 

Ruins near the summit of the Acropolis.

But that was not the end of our day in Athens. Viking had arranged a Greek Folkloric Show and Dinner for us. Fortunately, our  morning excursion got us back to the ship in time to grab a quick lunch and we were on another bus by 3 PM. 

Our first stop was another museum near the summit of the Acropolis. For the intrepid who felt like daring the 100 steps (with no handrails) up to the top, there was an opportunity to get closer to the Parthenon. 

For the rest of us, it was cookies, sweet bread and coffee in the museum cafe. Why weren't given a chance to peruse that collection as well I don't know, but it wasn't an option. After our snack, we headed off into the gathering twilight for the folkloric portion of the evening.

We had a supper of Greek dishes, mousaka, lamb skewers, some savory vegetable dishes I never caught the name of. During this time, a fellow with a mandolin and another on guitar serenaded us. Then a quartet of dancers demonstrated their folk dancing skills. The men were particularly active, leaping and slapping their heels. 

Sunset over Athens

After this, came the bewildering plate smashing portion of the evening. At first the technic for tossing down plates on the cement floor was demonstrated by the dancers. Then the proprietor brought out stacks of plates for guests to take their frustrations out on the unsuspecting pottery.   (Casper, our food services manager, didn't think much of the practice, I'm betting!) 

Then they needed some volunteers. I know the DH never lifted so much as a finger, but before he knew it, he was dragged into a line-up near the stage. The volunteers were told to shut their eyes and when they opened them, they were each presented with a broom so they could help sweep up all the plate shards! They were rewarded with a shot of uzo, a truly vile Greek drink. The DH downed it manfully, then turned toward me and stuck his tongue out! 

But they weren't done with him yet,

My very own Zorba the Norwegian Greek!

He danced with the group all around the room and at the end they lined up for a mighty "Opa!" cheer!

So ended our first day in Athens! 

More soon...