Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 6: Taylor Stark

Taylor Stark is currently a PhD Student in the department of Classics at the University of Toronto, where he is a participant in the Mediterranean Archaeology Collaborative Specialization and a burgeoning scholar of the Late Bronze Age Aegean. He is also a founding student member of the BEARS project and distinguished himself with uncanny geospatial skills, among other feats, in the 2019 season. Back home, Taylor is something of a celebrity around the Classics department: he did his undergraduate degree at Toronto and during that time transformed what had been a moribund undergraduate student Classics organization into a thriving community that hosts myriad events through the academic year, and even publishes its own journal. Aside from that, Taylor also has an intimidatingly large and broad bunch of skills and talents, as the following interview makes abundantly clear.

Taylor on board the boat on the way home after a satisfying day of work on Raftis island (K. Alexakis)

SCM: You are currently pursuing a PhD in the Classics department at the University of Toronto. Can you tell us what got you interested in Classics and why you decided to pursue a PhD in the subject?

TS: It’s sort of a weird story, or maybe weird but also boring? I was gearing up for a music degree in clarinet performance in grade eleven, and I was hoping to play in an orchestra and become wildly famous that way. Then at some point something flipped in my brain, and I decided that I didn’t want to make that hobby into a profession – that would just ruin it all. Kind of out of nowhere I thought, ‘Well, if I can’t make money from music, I’ll go where the money is – Aegean Bronze Age professor!’ And it just sort of emerged fully formed in my head. I don’t have the experience of going to University and then taking a class in Classics and then deciding that’s what I wanted to do. I entered into university explicitly with the aim of ending up in grad school to study the Bronze Age.

A real live Bronze Age archaeologist: Taylor leading the charge upslope on Raftis island (K. Alexakis)

SCM: I think that is a very unusual situation, and hardly boring! How did you even know that Bronze Age professor was a thing?

TS: I think it came down to a video game called Age of Mythology that I played when I was young. It was a war strategy game where you played as mythological factions, and I always really loved the Greeks. The game retold in some aspects the story of the Trojan War and I think that must be where it came from at least in a subconscious way.

SCM: So this has been a very single-minded pursuit for you!

TS: It has been. Although I don’t think it made me more prepared for grad school overall. I didn’t exactly use my early intentions to really prepare myself.

Making superficial preparations for entering grad school by putting on an Intelectual Mustache (S. Murray)

SCM: I mean, nobody is really prepared for grad school, are they? I certainly don’t know anyone who was, however early they started to think about it. Do you still play the clarinet?

TS: Very rarely. I was excited to play in a student orchestra here at the very least, but then I realized that would be utterly impossible given the amount of free time I have. It’s sitting right over there, but I haven’t touched it in years unfortunately.

SCM: I’m sure you’ll come back around to it later.

TS: Yeah, maybe in a community band when I’m a real adult

SCM: What, what’s that? A real adult? I’ve definitely never seen or heard of one. You should look into joining up with a Greek band next time you’re over there. All of the bands I’ve seen performing at weddings and festivals in Greece are VERY aggressive with the clarinet, I will tell you that. Bring it along to BEARS next summer – you’ll be an instant star.

TS: Clarinet-playing performance Bronze Age archaeologist! It’ll be a whole new phase of my musical career.

A Greek band plays at a local festival in Ikaria.

SCM: This sounds very promising. Now, I know you have some other interesting hobbies. You did your undergraduate degree here at Toronto, but I wasn’t around then. When you showed up as a grad student the first thing I learned about you was that you had just unicycled across Canada, and I think you are still the only person I’ve ever met with a serious unicycle hobby. Can you tell us a little bit about the unicycle situation – how you got into it and why you ended up traversing the nation?

TS: I started unicycling when I was nine, so I’ve been riding for quite a while. I grew up in the Rocky Mountains, where I first started out mountain unicycling – anything a mountain bike goes down I’ll go down, but on one wheel. Then when I came to Toronto to do my undergrad degree, obviously, it’s a different environment – there are not many mountains or trails to engage with. I took up urban street unicycling – think BMX or skateboard tricks but on a unicycle. I was doing moves like grinds and flips and jumping off of high things. Then when I finished my degree I wanted to take a couple of years off to work and travel. I had it all worked out in my timelines, but I had a three-month gap in the summer that I wasn’t quite sure what to do with. And a friend of mine jokingly suggested that I ride across the country on the unicycle. And we were like, ‘Haha, that’s very funny! …But wait…what if; is that even possible?’ I started thinking about it a lot more and bought myself a long-distance unicycle and started riding longer distances, and just leapt into it. I knew I had to be in Toronto for the beginning of the Master’s program in August 2018, so I went to Vancouver and just started pedaling!

unicycling: (left to right) long distance riding in Saskatchewan, down a trail in Utah, grinding, flatland tricks (courtesy: T. Stark)

SCM: Wow, that is pretty wild stuff. I have never seen anyone doing flips on a unicycle but it sounds very daring! Now, I’m not a cycling person, but my general sense is that most people do go for the two-wheeled sort of situation. 

TS: Haha, yes, that is the general preference! Really, there’s not much you can do on a bike that you can’t do on a unicycle – other than coast, that is (unicycling requires constant pedaling). I think it works for me because I find unicycling very calming. It requires a lot of focus. When you’re on one wheel, there’s really only one think you can think about – staying on the wheel! Riding helps me clear my head of anxious thoughts and worrying over endless to-do lists. Also, it’s just kind of more fun and unusual, so you get a different type of independent experience that most people don’t have.

Taylor showing off valuable unicycle cargo, from a CBC article about the trip.

SCM: I totally see where you’re coming from. I think a lot of academics go for this kind of thing – being creative and independent-thinking enough to do something outside of the mainstream. I sometimes refer to it as going to the outside lanes of the toll booth – most people are kind of sheep-like and will stack up at the center lanes just because everyone else is doing it and it’s right in front of them, but if you just jerk the wheel over to the far right there’s no line and you get through way faster!

TS: Yeah, for me it just kind of clicked that way. It also made me famous in my hometown, and I got my name out there, which was a benefit.

Photo of Taylor from the U of T News article about his unorthodox means of reaching his new grad school home (Geoffrey Vendeville)

SCM: So, you started out in Vancouver, and (spoiler alert) you did ultimately arrive in Toronto on the unicycle. Since then you have been knocking ‘em dead in the graduate program here. Where are you now in the program and what kinds of research are you interested in pursuing?

TS: I’m just about to finish coursework. I have a couple of more courses next year to get under my belt and then I’ll start to focus on comps next spring and summer. My focus now seems to be crystallizing around early Greek and Mediterranean society, and particularly looking at peripheral regions outside of well-known states. I’m interested in understanding the experience of people living at the margins of large culturally-influential entities like the Mycenaean state that have been the focus of a lot of research, both smaller state-like entities and groups organized in ways that we wouldn’t even call a state. I’m planning to look at the interactions between large-scale, maybe even imperialist groups, and local communities on the margins, and to think about how those interactions shape local cultural identities. I did my MA thesis on Bronze Age Thessaly and Mycenaean interactions with the ancient Thessalians, and my research is hovering around those sorts of things. I’ve written a paper on Mycenaean interactions in southern Italy. I think all of these notionally peripheral regions are very interesting.

Mycenaeans in Thessaly? A tholos tomb at the site of Dimini (T. Stark)

SCM: Those sound like very promising places to poke around for your research focus, and I’m sure it’ll be exciting to get on with it and wrap up your courses in the next academic year. Now turning to fieldwork, before coming to BEARS you (along with apparently everyone else on our team!) worked on another Greek survey project, the WARP project in the western Argolid. Have you worked on other fieldwork projects, too?

TS: Unfortunately, I haven’t yet worked on any other projects. I started on WARP and then after that found myself in a situation where I couldn’t pay for anything else in terms of work abroad during the rest of my undergrad. This summer I was looking into a couple of other projects, and even sent out some feelers about doing more fieldwork after BEARS, but – obviously – those did not pan out! I would like to, and probably should, start trying to get more project experience each summer so that I can experience and learn about different methods and approaches.

Taylor, Joey, and Herakles sorting survey finds on Raftis island (K. Alexakis)

SCM: It is not ideal that doing fieldwork is so expensive, which can make it out of reach for a lot of undergraduate students. And I now know that it’s challenging as a director to manage to fund everyone’s flights each summer out of a meagre humanities grant. I actually got dissed on a recent grant application for asking for funding for undergraduate flights – the reviewer thought it should be their problem to get funding or scholarships or something, which seemed crazy to me. 

I was thinking about your background and your immense acumen for survey fieldwork – you’re one of these fieldworkers who never gets tired or disoriented, and is always extremely enthusiastic and competent in the field, no matter the conditions. You grew up in the mountains and did quite a bit of mountaineering when you were younger – has that impacted your approach to fieldwork or do you think you enjoy fieldwork especially in relation to that background? Or are those two separate things for you?

TS: I think they definitely interact with each other. I do really love going off the beaten track and just exploring. When I was in the Rockies I always loved investigating weird geological features or caves, or small cool river valleys that are out of the way. It’s also given me a strong sense of direction (cardinal direction, that is) and I can very easily situate myself in a landscape. I think that extends handily to fieldwork. I’ve only done survey, and I think that the far-ranging aspect of survey really appeals to me, especially extensive survey. I really love searching out those nooks and crannies all throughout the mountainous regions in Greece. I also love bouldering: just scrambling all over the place is really fun. Survey work does offer opportunities like that very readily.

Taylor determinedly setting off to look at rocks in Utah (courtesy T. Stark)

SCM: There is some good mountain climbing and bouldering in Greece. I don’t know of other archaeologists who do any climbing, but you could probably check it out at some point. 

TS: Yeah, some of my father’s friends have been out to a lot of the islands for climbing. I’ve heard a lot of good things. 

SCM: I can definitely see that your background in mountaineering would contribute a lot to your strengths in the field. Are there other aspects of working on a field project that you especially enjoy?

Taylor surveying on Raftis island (Photo credit: K. Alexakis)

TS: I’d say there are two other things I really love about fieldwork. First, I love being surrounded by people who are both as ridiculous and dorky as myself and as interested in this narrow esoteric topic as myself, but who also have very different approaches. A huge part of archaeology is collaboration. Being able to have really interesting conversations with folks who approach the artifacts we’re looking at in entirely different ways, and can shed whole different lights upon them based on those different approaches, is really fascinating. It helps me to expand my own understanding of the range of approaches.

I also think there is a great sense of satisfaction that goes with proper identification of an artifact. I started out my first project knowing absolutely nothing, and then coming back a second time on BEARS it all flooded back. Being able to step out into the field and pick something up and say, ‘Oh yeah, this is from the Bronze Age’ – I think there is a real sense of satisfaction there.

Taylor and Joey, both WARP veterans, check out some artifacts after finishing a grid square on Raftis (K. Alexakis)

SCM: Both great points. ‘Archaeology vision’ is very satisfying, almost like having x-ray vision or something – an object I might see as akin to a rock, you understand as this information-laden artifact that tells us all kinds of things about the past.

TS: Exactly, there’s so much information you can glean just from this crumbly piece of pottery. A secret power is a great way to think about it.

SCM: Are there any aspects of fieldwork that you dislike or find irritating, or that you’re always happy to say goodbye to at the end of a project?

TS: Scorpions. I am not a fan of scorpions. I mean, projects can be really exhausting, but I think that’s part of the fun. I usually need to sleep for a good, solid two weeks after finishing a project, but that carries its own satisfaction. 

That post-project fatigue feeling, personified here by one of many site dogs at Teotihuacan (S. Murray)

SCM: Yeah, I too usually need a few weeks of quavering in bed like a catatonic lizard, with one of those hamster feeder bottles full of Gatorade installed right next to me so I never have to get up, after five or six weeks of fieldwork. But it is a well-earned, satisfying kind of exhaustion.

TS: So basically, there’s not much aside from the scorpions that I don’t like.

SCM: Sounds like you are in the right line of work! Let’s do a little compare and contrast exercise, inspired by Grace’s post on WARP vs. BEARS: you were on WARP and now you’re on BEARS. Are your impressions of the two projects mostly the same or have they been very different experiences?

Exploring the brush: Grace and Mattias wonder why we thought it was a good idea to fight through dense maquis to the top of the Kastro at Limni Distos on our day off (T. Stark)

TS: There’s an obvious answer available in the sense that the areas and aims of the two surveys are very different. But for me they were also just very different experiences because I was in very different places coming into WARP and coming into BEARS. On WARP, I was just a young undergrad, and in terms of my place in the hierarchy of WARP, I was basically just going along with everything. I wasn’t really privy to a lot of the discussions about interpretation or the methods being used. It was also more of a party atmosphere, at least amongst the youngest of us. There was a lot of ‘Hey, we’re in Greece! We get to let loose a bit!’ going around.

On BEARS, of course, there were always beers – there are always beers – but I think I had more of a sense of place and a sense of focus about the actual research and what I wanted to get out of it.  I had more of a feeling that the project at least in a small way belonged to me, because there was a smaller team and we were all part of developing interpretations and plans. Whereas for WARP I was a passive member of the team because of my age.

An extensive survey find: Elliot enjoys a well-earned cookie during extensive survey (T. Stark)

SCM: Right, right – I’m old enough that it’s hard for me to remember what the heck I thought when I was first doing fieldwork, but you’re right that just starting out you do not have a strong sense of why things on a project are a certain way, or even that there are different ways that things could be done. You’re along for the ride, and maybe focused as much or more on the social aspects. In terms of work, you’re just kind of there as a set of free hands. 

TS: Nobody asks you why you’re doing the things you are doing, so you just don’t think about it too much.

SCM: It’s a very cogent point about the fact that your experience on a fieldwork project will definitely vary a lot based on where you are individually when you have that experience, whatever the nature of the project itself. My very first project was in Pompeii and I focused a lot more on drinking beer than questioning the structure or methods at work on the project. I did, however, think critically about how much more I like Greece than Italy, which is why I never worked over there again. Is there anything you particularly like about working in Greece or just spending time there? How about Porto Rafti?

TS: I adore being in Greece. It just feels much more laid back than Toronto. The weather is right up my alley. I know that some people can’t really stand those sorts of intense heats, but that’s exactly where I thrive. I really, really love the food. This summer I’ve been trying to start replicating some Greek food. I made spanakopita the other day. It was nearly there! It had echoes of Greek spanakopita.

Homemade spanakopita: the fruits of many hours of labour (T. Stark)

SCM: Impressive! That’s a challenging one.

TS: I’m also now learning Modern Greek, so I’m excited to work there next summer, and try to make better connections with people and maybe partake in and understand a bit more of what’s going on. 

Porto Rafti was interesting as a place to work. Because it’s a resort town it’s very different from what I’ve seen in other towns in Greece – the lack of a town square, for example – so that was very interesting to work around. But I ultimately really enjoyed it. I think there was a sense of peeking behind the curtain of the tourist impression of Greece. I guess that’s a bit ironic to say given that Porto Rafti is a resort town, but it’s not the kind of place you think about from an extra-national tourist point of view. So, okay, Greece isn’t all about these old stone town squares and the traditional village, there are these other aspects to the country which we should also engage with and appreciate. I liked the idea that Porto Rafti shows us diversity in town structure within this under-nuanced image of a Greek ideal that we take to it.

The Greek village stereotype need not apply in Porto Rafti (S. Murray)

SCM: That is really interesting observation. I guess we have our ideas about what a ‘real’ Greek town is supposed to be like and all the mystique that surrounds it, but actual reality blows up that simple stereotype. Porto Rafti is in fact a real town, where Greek people spend a lot of time and where lots of people live, even commuting to Athens. It’s a bit weird to knock it as not ‘Greek’ enough because it doesn’t fit into our idea of what that ought to mean.

TS: Exactly. They’re not putting on some façade to meet the expectations of tourists from outside of Greece or look like a postcard. I think it’s important for us as archaeologists to be attentive to the preconceptions we bring to Greece based on some fetish for the past, and to always be engaging with what the place where we work is actually like and what people who actually live there do and think.

SCM: I will say that my emotional relationship with modern Porto Rafti is complicated because it would be much easier to survey there if there weren’t so many beach houses covering up all of the ground! But it will be interesting to see what we can find in and amongst them as we survey in little patches of gardens and orchards throughout the town. The more time I spend there the more I appreciate the place. It has its own thing going on. Also, its non-traditional nature has a lot of advantages for us. In very small villages your team really, really stands out, so you’re kind of under the microscope. But in Porto Rafti nobody even knows we’re there, which gives us much more anonymity, and that makes life easier in a lot of ways.

The all-seeing eye of the tiny Greek village stuffed with transient archaeology students (S. Murray)

TS: I think the only people who knew we were there were the owners of our nearest bakery. And they were happy we were there, because we spent a lot of money at that place.

SCM: I am sure they wish you were there right now – but, alas, this summer you gotta make your own spanakopita! In addition to the lack of proper spanakopita, Toronto is maybe not as great of a place to spend the summer as Porto Rafti. But summer in Toronto is not without its charms – any particular activities that you’re looking to enjoy or goals you want to accomplish in July and August?

TS: I just got back from a camping trip and it was really nice to get out of the city for a bit. In terms of academic stuff, the pandemic is a real double-edged sword. Suddenly there is all of this free time, and I feel like I’m pressuring myself to accomplish things I wouldn’t normally have time for. But at the same time, I think the state of the world does impact one’s ability to work. I’m trying not to be too hard on myself. But I have a couple of reading lists that I’ve been going through and a bunch of books I’ve been meaning to read forever. I just read James Scott’s Against the Grain and that gave me a lot of leads on new things I want to read and research.

Some of Taylor's summer reading, and his RA Franz (T. Stark)

Something else that I am starting to do, which is probably biting off more than I can chew, is writing a horror novel. I was in South America backpacking around a couple of years ago and I came back with a few vignettes I had written. Suddenly in the shower the other day they just kind of coalesced all together and I saw a way to put them into a coherent story. So, I’ve been outlining that, and threw it all on top of my actual work.

SCM: That is a profound and productive shower! I should probably take more showers. Maybe I’d have better ideas. But writing creatively is a good idea for a way to take your mind off of things for awhile. I always find that writing is one of the only ways to actually take yourself totally out of your own reality. You can forget the rest of the world exists when you get into the writing zone. 

TS: Very true – I am hoping that writing something creative and original that I’m producing will help spark other writing too. 

SCM: Flexing those writing muscles is useful, no matter what you’re writing. Well, it sounds like you have plenty to keep you busy, so we’ll leave it at that – thanks for taking the time to chat and I’ll keep an eye out for your debut novel on the shelves at Indigo one of these days!

A parting shot: the view from the east slope of Koroni, featuring an abandoned beach house (aka the Creepy Koroni compound) no doubt built overtop of some extraordinary finds (T. Stark).

Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 5: Jennifer MacPherson

Jennifer MacPherson is a University of Toronto undergraduate student currently heading into a fifth and final year of coursework. She is a standout member of the Classics department, widely admired by professors across a range of subjects from Greek archaeology to Latin verse, and the kind of young person that makes me wish I’d had my life together better at that age! I met Jenny during my very first day of teaching at the University of Toronto in September 2017, and I’ve been lucky to work with her in various circumstances since then – she has been in a number of the courses I’ve taught, was on a team of undergraduate RAs I supervised as part of a Jackman Humanities Institute summer program, co-authored a research paper with myself and Irum Chorghay that was published this year in the AJA,  and was a founding student member of the BEARS project in 2019. Since her normal summer job of working at a children’s camp is off the table this year for obvious reasons, she recently had some spare time to talk with me about life in Toronto Classics, her experiences in Greece last summer, and strategies for enduring the pandemic lockdown here in the big city.

Today's interviewee with a 4th century statue of Aphrodite (courtesy J. MacPherson)

SCM: I first met you when you in the fall of 2017 when you totally hit it out of the park in my Greek 101 class and my Greek history class. So, we’ve known each other for several years now. But how’d it come to pass that you ended up taking Greek and Greek history and majoring in Classics?

JM: Hmmm, I don’t have a good story – I think I just fell into it through a series of random circumstances. Some high schools have a Classics program or a club, but my public school didn’t have any of that. When I was really young, instead of science fairs we had history fairs – so you’d make a papier mache castle instead of a papier mache volcano, that type of thing – and I do remember using a bedsheet as a costume and talking about ancient Greek houses at one point. So maybe that was something formative. 

When I got to university, I always knew I liked history, but then I thought I might do English. But already in my first year I realized that I definitely did not want to do an English major. Then I was thinking about Canadian history for a while, but that didn’t pan out either. I guess I ended up swinging kind of really far away from English eventually and thinking, ‘maybe I’ll do archaeology!’ But at the end I kind of ended up landing in the middle with Classics and Classical literature.

SCM: I like that – you fled from the cruel nightmare of the English department into the welcoming bosom of Classics! But what I really like is the idea of a papier mache castle-volcano hybrid. Like, did the papier mache castle have any baking-soda pyrotechnics involved?

Cool, cool, but which part is going to explode for my edutainment? (S. Murray)

JM: No, nothing like that – no eruptions or explosions!

SCM: I guess that’s one downside of the history fair vs. the science fair: fewer baking soda eruptions. I actually had a friend in university who submitted a baking soda volcano as a final project for an upper level Earth Sciences seminar, and that did not go well for him, but it became kind of legendary. Anyway, now that you landed on Classics as a major, what do you like about the coursework or the department overall?

JM: One thing I really like about it is that contains a lot of the different things that I had wandered around being interested in before. For instance, you can do the languages – I’d always liked learning French, and I enjoy learning the languages in Classics. But you also read the literature and do hands-on stuff like archaeology. So, there are a lot of different things within the department, and I like all those things, so it fits my various interests really well.

Classics is also really flexible these days and I like that you can bring all kinds of other material into it. For instance, I really like horror literature. That’s pretty much the only thing I still like to do with English now: study fantasy, horror, and sci-fi. And I’ve been able to integrate that into Classics – I wrote a paper on Seneca’s Phaedra and I used horror literary theory to analyze the text. So, yeah, I guess what I like is that there is a ton of stuff that can be applied to Classics and vice versa.

Sounion temple spooky scary (J. MacPherson)

SCM: I totally agree with you – that’s one of my favorite things about the field too. It’s a major that contains a multitude of methods even though there is kind of a coherent theme. What you’re actually doing on a day-to-day basis varies a lot.

JM: Yeah, exactly. I really wanted to do a film course at some point in university, but I could never fit it in to my schedule around all of the requirements. But then there was a Classics in film course in the major, so I just took that, which was great.

Creepy Athena in the film version of Alberto Moravia's novel Contempt, which is probably not part of the Classics and film course (S. Murray)

SCM: It’s hard to get bored in a major like that. Well, I guess you could choose to be bored no matter what you do, but that just means you’re a boring person! Which, obviously, you’re not. Do you have a favorite text or object from the ancient world that makes you nerd out every time, or that you return to again and again? And what is it about that thing that gets you really excited?

JM: I really love ancient drama in general. It would be hard to choose between the Latin and the Greek stuff. Greek comedy is great, but I also like Latin tragedy, especially Seneca. But you know, how do you choose between Seneca and Aristophanes? I recently wrote a paper for the Plebeian (the University of Toronto undergraduate Classics journal) about pubic hair depilation in the Thesmaphoriazusae and it was the most bonkers paper I’ve ever written, but also the best paper I’ve ever written. Maybe Aristophanes’ comedies in general are the thing that I really geek about the most.

SCM: It is consistently amazing to me that his plays can still be funny 2,500 years later.

JM: Exactly! They are still really, really funny. It just goes to show that fart jokes are universal. They last throughout time.

SCM: It’s true! That’s not one of the lessons that people anticipate they will take away from a Classics major, but it is an important one – people have always loved fart jokes. Since the beginning of time! And they will always be with us. It would be too bad if science invents a way to keep people from farting. Maybe by 2060 people will be reading Aristophanes and they won’t get the fart jokes anymore without consulting some scholiast from the earlier 21st century or something because farts have become obsolete. 

JM: But until that time….!

A scene from the uproarious Stanford Classics department's production of an Aristophanes play in 2011 (S. Murray)

SCM: Yes, yes, let’s enjoy it while it lasts. Now, I know that last summer was your first time visiting Greece, and you and Irum did some traveling around before we started work on the BEARS project. How was your experience of Greece? Were there any favorite memories or sites that particularly stand out?

JM: We had a great time! We hit a lot of places in Greece – we started in Athens, went to Nafplio, a couple of islands – Santorini and Naxos, and Crete. It’s so great there – I really wish I was there so much right now! I have a calendar of Greece hanging on my wall and I think every day about how I’d rather be there. 

The modern culture there is awesome. The food is so good! Walking around the towns and cities is great, and seeing the archaeological sites in person was cool. The archaeological sites are very closely intermingled with the modern environment, so you can get a drink at a café and then stroll right over to an ancient temple!

Exploring one of many ancient theaters available for inspection in Greece (courtesy J. MacPherson)

We really loved Nafplio, which has a lot of great non-ancient Greek history. We climbed the thousand steps up to the fortress and learned a lot about the history of the Modern Greek state and the evolution of its culture. The people were really nice to us too, really helpful all the time. It was an amazing experience in general.

The view down the steps of the Palamidi in Nafplio (J. MacPherson)

SCM: I’m glad! Greece is totally awesome in all those ways. For sure I also would rather be inside of one of your calendar scenes than my dumpy condo. Another first for you was the BEARS project, which was your first experience doing archaeological fieldwork. This was probably very different than taking a course on Seneca. What were your impressions of work on the project?

JM: I had a great time. By the end of the project I was the most fit I’d ever been in my life. Carrying those bags of sherds up and down a mountain slope really does wonders for your biceps! I remember the very first day that we went out to Raftis and Cat Pratt was showing us how to tell the difference between a piece of pottery and a rock, and then by the end I was picking up all sorts of things and could figure out whether something was Roman or Bronze Age. It was really cool how quickly the learning occurred because we were actually out there in the world doing it. I love being outdoors and have always loved hiking. Fieldwork was like that, but also being productive and finding ancient material. It was really exciting when we’d find something unusual. Once on Koroni, I was counting rooftiles and mixed in with the rooftiles was this piece of pottery that had writing on it. It just said “ED” but we were so excited about it, just losing our minds. That was really cool.

Field friends Irum and Kat explore the neighbouring site of Thorikos in Attica (J. MacPherson)

SCM: Those are very perceptive comments for a first-timer! People often say that they like survey archaeology because it resembles hiking but somehow it’s also work. That’s also a great observation about how quickly you can learn to identify things in the field because the process is so hands on. How did you like life on the project otherwise? Any favorite or not-favorite aspects of living with a bunch of crazy archaeology types?

Jenny and Irum enjoy the boat ride to Raftis island with Captain Vasilis at the helm (S. Murray)

JM: I can’t pinpoint one specific thing that I liked the most, but we had a really great group of people. It was nice to be able to live with them and get off of work and go to the beach or whatever. I will say that we drank way too much beer! Crazy amounts! But we didn’t really get into any trouble. It was so lovely to hang out with them. We probably doubled the profits of this one restaurant Dimitri’s and a great bakery – we ate so much great food. 

The only bad thing was that there was this bee that lived in our upstairs bathroom. We could not get rid of that bee! We kept thinking we had gotten rid of it, but it just kept coming back. I think it was coming through the wood in the ceiling or something. That was kind of terrifying. I remember being in the shower and it was out there and it was like that famous scene in Psycho or something. I guess that’s the best I’ve got for a ‘worst’ thing that happened, because everything was great otherwise.

SCM: I guess we’re doing okay if the worst thing that happened all season was a pesky shower bee. It reminds me of the gopher in the movie Caddyshack – this bee basically outsmarted a house full of highly educated university students and always made it back inside.

Bee territory lurketh within (J. MacPherson)

JM: Eventually we just ceded the territory of the washroom! We were like ‘It’s his now – we’ll just use the downstairs one.’

SCM: Bee: 1, Archaeologists, 0! Even though we couldn’t outsmart the bee, we did have a really fun gang of people to hang out and drink too much beer with.

JM: Yeah it was really fun. And nice to have people from all over the place too.

SCM: Let’s hope that we can all be back together out there again sometime, presuming that things will one day return to semi-normal. Speaking of a return to normal, as of today, we in Toronto are finally allowed to go sit on a restaurant patio to eat and drink. I think we were one of the last places in North America where you couldn’t do that until this week! As restrictions here are lifted, is there anything you’re looking forward to doing that hasn’t been allowed since March?

JM: Not one specific thing, but any real human interaction with people who aren’t just my family. Please? I have been staying in touch with people via text and other stuff – some of my friends and I have been watching foreign films together and texting about it. But it will be really, really nice to actually see everyone in person again, even if it’s socially distanced with lawn chairs or something. 

Toronto social distancing raccoon has got the drop on you! (S. Murray)

It’s weird for me because this is the first summer that I’m not working. I’ve always done camp jobs in the summer since I was 14, but the camps are not really happening this summer. I mean, they are trying to do some summer camps here, but I took one look at that and thought ‘that is going to be a total mess – there is going to be so much bureaucracy and it’ll be impossible not to get sick from all those germy children – NO thank you.’ So I’ve just been kind of alone with myself and my thoughts and stuck in a house with three other people and we’ve been driving each other mental. It will be nice to hang out with someone else.

SCM: Yes, being around someone outside of the immediate household in actual three-dimensions is a very exciting prospect! 

JM: I’ve had enough of these internet conversations – you know ‘can you hear me? is my screen working?’

Lockdown socializing – just like the real thing! (J. Sutherland)

SCM: Haha, tell me about it. I mean, I guess we’re lucky that this is happening at a time with technology that allows us to at least sort of stay connected with others. But it is definitely not the same – a sad, pathetic substitute for actually spending time with friends. And it is very strange to otherwise be stuck inside of your own head with your own thoughts for such a long stretch of time, as you point out. For me this is leading to a slow descent into madness, which is interesting at times, but probably not optimal.

Help! I can only hang on in here for a little while longer. (S. Murray)

JM: It’s easy to become really lazy and unfocused. Last year we were in Greece working hard in the field for a month, then I flew back home and I went straight to work at my job the next day. And I was taking a night class. That was exhausting! This summer is basically the opposite situation, but I’m emotionally exhausted instead. It’s hard to feel motivated to do anything – I’ve been baking a lot, watching reality tv….

Let us set sail on an epic adventure of lockdown baking! (S. Murray)

SCM: Anything to get the time to pass and get through the day, right? In April and May when it was still blizzarding and cold and dark here, and things were seeming really dire, I was trying to figure out if there was a way to induce hibernation in humans – you know, so you could just drink some Alice in Wonderland potion and go to sleep for a year and wake up when things were better. I mean, we were kind of hibernating anyway, we just had to be awake and depressed during it.

That not-so-fresh feeling after four months of lockdown pseudo-hibernation (S. Murray)

JM: Yeah, instead we have to try desperately to distract ourselves from the disaster of the world…by watching reality tv!

SCM: Exactly. But at first when all this hit you were still in classes – and then there was a sudden move to online teaching. What was that like for you as a student? Was it okay, or are you totally dreading online classes for the fall, too?

JM: It went alright, but I think that was only because I really just had one class that actually continued to meet. In my Latin class we didn’t really meet after classes went online – the teacher just gave us some additional readings and told us to work on our essays with the extra time. My Greek class continued to meet online, which was…interesting. I read something about how tiring it can be to do the Zoom calls, and I really agreed with that, because you very much feel like you’ve got to be on even when you’re not on. You can’t really tell if the screen is showing your face or not. I was in Greek class with our friend Paul (another U of T Classics student) and he must have had some sort of noise in the background, so the screen was stuck on his face the whole time and he had no idea. I texted him and told him that all everyone was seeing was his face! And he was totally freaking out – you can’t sneeze or yawn or zone out or anything. You’ve just got to be focused even when you aren’t. You can’t read anyone’s social cues. But I guess it turned out okay. I only had to do that for a couple of class sessions. Everyone else was just telling us to keep up with readings and do the final assignments. But next year will be interesting.

Zoom fatigue: the struggle is real (S. Murray)

SCM: Right, we were lucky because we only had a couple weeks of online stuff, as opposed to people on the quarter system or with longer semesters. Some of my colleagues in the US had to do a whole 10-week quarter online with very little advanced notice, and I think they were totally miserable. 

JM: Thankfully I’m only going part time next year, so I’m not too worried about it. I’ll just have a couple of courses.

SCM: I’m probably more stressed about it than you are! I have no idea what I’m doing.

JM: It must be really hard to lecture through a screen.

SCM: As you said, it’s tough to deal with other people in an educational context without social cues – and if you’re making a prerecorded lecture you have no idea if what you are saying makes sense, because there’s no active feedback at all.

Glassy zoom eyes be staring back at me like... (S. Murray)

JM: I think it’s easier for science classes. My sister took a summer neuroscience course and it was all prerecorded lectures, but that was fine, because the lectures were just conveying introductory information—facts to memorize, that sort of thing. But it’s hard to imagine teaching something like the optative mood in that way, without being able to go back and forth and make sure the students understand the concept.

SCM: Yeah, I’m not sure how that would work. I will definitely have to spend a fair amount of time this summer getting up to speed on this kind of thing. Okay, last question – other than bemusedly observing how your crazy professors are going to adapt to online teaching – anything you’re looking forward to in your last year at university?

JM: It will be exciting to finish up undergrad – I was actually planning to finish last year, but for various reasons it seemed desirable to stick around and take a fifth year, and I think that ended up being a really good choice, what with everything going on in the world now! I’m going to take a few more language courses and apply to grad school, which is exciting and terrifying. But I’m looking forward to that, and moving on to do more research and writing.

SCM: You’ll be a star! No need to be terrified in your case, at least in an academic sense. And it’ll be good to have you around the department for one more year especially since last year ended with a weird and alienating anticlimax. For now, thanks for taking the time to talk to BEARS blog!

The bay of Porto Rafti from Pounta at dawn (J. MacPherson)

Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 4: Grace Erny

Grace Erny is currently a PhD candidate in Classics at Stanford University, previously having acquired an MA from the University of Colorado and a BA from Macalester College. Like Joey Frankl, who you’ll remember from an earlier post, she came to the BEARS project highly recommended as a veteran of the Western Argolid Regional Project (WARP), and valiantly led much of the intensive survey on the Pounta peninsula and Raftis island in 2019. She is now working on her dissertation and anticipating an upcoming move to Athens in August, pending the inevitable visa issues. Amidst all of this important work, Grace generously agreed to spend some time on the less-important task of being subjected to my inane interview questions, from the familiar confines of Stanford Graduate housing in Escondido village.

Grace strikes an intrepid pose while gazing from on high at the site of Anavlochos on Crete in 2018 (D. Nakassis, courtesy G. Erny)

SCM: You are currently completing your PhD in Classical archaeology at Stanford University. But let’s peer back into the more distant past – how did you get into archaeology and Classics, and what made you choose the program at Stanford?

GKE: I definitely did not come to Classics on purpose – I got there through a love of archaeological fieldwork. When I was in high school, I was very fortunate to do a summer program at the Crow Canyon Archaeological Center. It’s a really great place, a nonprofit in southwest Colorado that does archaeological research and education and works with Native American community partners. They also have a field school where they teach high school students about the Prehispanic Southwest and show them how to dig.

I excavated in a midden – basically a big trash heap – in a Pueblo III settlement called Goodman Point Pueblo, and I found that I loved digging. I was in this trash pile finding stuff – lithics, Mesa Verde Black on White pottery, etc. – and I just thought it was the coolest thing ever. That made me really wanted to study archaeology in college. 

Grace excavating at Goodman Point in 2006 (courtesy G. Erny)

The college where I went had one excavation which happened to be run out of the Classics department – a project in northern Israel, Omrit, where Joey also worked. I was actually his first trench supervisor ever, so I’ve known Joey for a really long time!

That’s how I got into Classics – it was really just through the coincidence of wanting to do an excavation and that being where the opportunity was. Before starting at Stanford, I went back to work at Crow Canyon as a full-time field archaeologist. When I decided to do a PhD, I applied to two different kinds of programs: Classics, because I had come to really love working in Greece, but also Anthro, because I also loved working in the American Southwest. Stanford was actually the only Classics program that I applied to. 

Temple ruins at the site of Omrit in northern Israel (S. Murray)

But I ended up coming to Stanford, partly because I really liked Stanford’s Archaeology Center. The cool thing about the Center is that you can be in a Classics department and do the Classics-y things but there is also a really active and physically connected archaeology community. Also, I was told that if you do Anthro in the U.S. system and you work as an archaeologist in Greece, nobody really understands what you do and it’s confusing for people. Which is too bad – it’s just a stupid artifact of the way the disciplines are split up. But then at the Archaeology Center at Stanford there are two talk series every week with people who work all over the world. Everyone takes a theory class with Ian Hodder, which is a great experience. And I took several other Anthro classes and have an Anthro faculty member on my dissertation committee. So, the program provides a good mix of both things – the Classics training and the literature, but then also the opportunity to work with Anthro faculty and students and learn from their methods and approaches.

SCM: Yeah, that all makes a lot of sense! Digging a trash heap isn’t quite so Vegas as Rob’s early experiences in the buffalo tanks in the Southwest, but it sounds like a stellar opportunity. I agree with your points about the value of the Archaeology Center, too. It is kind of a bummer that archaeology in North America rarely has its own autonomous department. We all end up orphaned in these different disciplines– Classics, Art History – with a lot of people that don’t really understand what we do or what our training is. But at least you have some of these interdisciplinary centers that make a space for archaeologists to come together.

GKE: Yeah, you know how it is in Classics – archaeologists tend to feel marginalized by the philologists and are at a disadvantage in general: we end up having to take all the languages as well as getting trained up in archaeology, which is a big challenge. And some archaeology friends in Anthro departments have told me that there can be a similar dynamic with socio-cultural anthropology and anthropological archaeology, so, yeah – I think it’s good to have a place where the archaeologists can come together and feel like they have a home base.

Ian Morris's much-un-Stackenblochen desk in the Stanford Archaeology Center, February, 2010 (S. Murray)

SCM: We have to take what we can get, I suppose – a refuge from the downcast gaze of the philologists, etc. And Stanford does that better than many places. For sure I think Classical archaeology benefits from having people like you around, who have sought out training in methods and ideas outside the narrow frame of Old World archaeology, so have absorbed approaches from North American archaeology too.

GKE: Well, working in the Southwest definitely made me a much better excavator! When I went back to Crow Canyon before my PhD, we were working on the Basketmaker Communities Project, and it was all dirt architecture. Up to that point I’d only dug architecture with stone walls. But at the Basketmaker III site, the Dillard Site, where we were working, people lived in pithouses that were dug into the ground. You have to pay a lot more attention to the different colors and textures of the dirt, because there is no masonry. I think I dug 30 postholes in one month, because I did all of the postholes in one pithouse. Some were really deep, like elbow deep! Anyway, it was good practice. 

A series of posts, but no holes, in the western Argolid (S. Murray)

SCM: Grace Erny – posthole maestro: you heard it here first! That is certainly a far cry from my first excavation in Pompeii where you knew you hit a floor because…it was a mosaic. Not quite so subtle. It sounds like you really love excavating and have dug a lot of different kinds of places. But I understand that your dissertation is on survey material and how to interpret finds from archaeological surveys. How did you end up landing on a survey-themed topic for your dissertation, and what exactly is the project designed to do?

GKE: I started getting interested in survey when I worked at WARP, which I previously wrote about here. We read all of this stuff in 2014 about survey methodology and the kinds of questions survey is trying to answer, and I found a lot of that reading compelling. And I really enjoyed working on surveys – I’m obviously working on BEARS now. 

In my dissertation, I’m focusing a lot on survey data because it turned out to be the best dataset with which to address the questions I wanted to deal with, but it wasn’t really the plan from the beginning. My dissertation is on inequality and social differentiation on Crete in the later part of the Iron Age. There is a lot of work on Crete in the earlier Iron Age, but I’m looking at the Late Geometric to the Classical period, which is a kind of strange period in Cretan archaeology. There is a lot of stuff from the Protoarchaic or Orientalizing period – probably the floruit of the Cretan city-state was in the 7th century – they had some of the earliest written laws, etc. But then in the 6th and 5th centuries there just isn’t that much, and it’s odd because that’s a period when you have a ton of material from other parts of the Greek world. There are also a lot of literary sources describing Crete as a strange oligarchical society that’s very unequal, at least from an Athenian point of view. And I got pretty interested in that idea – was Crete really distinct in terms of inequality?

Section of the Gortyn law code from Archaic Crete (S. Murray)

In archaeology one of the most popular proxies through which to assess inequality is variation in house size across or within excavated settlements. So initially my dissertation was going to look at houses. I started making a huge database of Cretan excavated houses. But I noticed a lot of the houses that we have from this period are located in big, nucleated settlements, and they often aren’t very well-published. Some of the houses that are published are really massive and seem to be end-stage consumers of agricultural products processed elsewhere. That’s what’s happening at Azoria, for instance. 

I started thinking more critically about this house size metric as a tool for measuring inequality. At a site like Azoria, where you have four enormous houses that are all the same size and are all full of fancy pithoi, it seems like they are consuming a lot of stuff produced elsewhere. So, you could look at the settlements where the houses are all the same size, and you could say: “Oh, it’s really equal! Everything is awesome! It’s Greek equality! Amazing!” But that wouldn’t actually make sense based on all of the other evidence.

The site of Azoria, front center, in its dramatic mountain landscape (S. Murray)

At that point I started thinking about the survey evidence, and how to model the outfield – how could you think about the production side of inequality and the (possibly exploitative) relationships between producers and consumers. Most discussions of inequality are really focused on consumption, so there seemed to be a lacuna there. In terms of the evidence, there has been a ton of survey work on Crete. There have been some attempts to synthesize it for the Minoan and EIA periods, but not much for later periods. So, there was all this data that nobody had ever looked at for these periods. And, with the raw material, there’s also room to do adjustments and refinements, because we’ve learned a lot more about ceramic chronologies for these periods since most of the surveys were conducted in the 80s and 90s. In general, then, I saw an opportunity not only to synthesize previously collected data, but also to go back and revisit some of the survey assemblages, and to bring all that data to bear on this big question of inequality.

What I’m doing now is looking closely at tiny sites in the countryside that most people have identified as farmsteads. I’m digging into what’s actually at those places, whether they are functionally different to one another, how they are related to excavated settlements, etc.

Complex landscapes of production and consumption in rural Crete, near Ierapetra (S. Murray)

SCM: Wow, that is a really smart, really well-conceived topic and approach. It’s really impressive to hear the narrative there about how the project developed, and that you changed tack when you saw that the data you wanted to use to answer your question wasn’t up to the task. Keeping a flexible, critical mind about how or how not to proceed as you work through the data in that sense requires a certain acute, self-aware intelligence. Other than being the result of your own intellectual and conceptual development, do you think that your project is particularly Stanfordian, or did aspects of the program help lead you to this particular kind of dissertation?

GKE: I took an environmental archaeology course in Anthro with Andrew Bauer, the Anthro faculty member on my committee. He works in Iron Age India. While I don’t use palynology or soil micromorphology or any of those methods in my dissertation, that class helped me think about what survey and environmental studies can tell us about ancient inequality (that’s a big focus of Bauer’s scholarship). So, that was pretty instrumental.

It’s not a specific class, but I have been really influenced by Ian Morris’s scholarship, which of course has changed a huge amount over the decades. I mean, you read Ian Morris from 1987, Burial and Society, and it’s all about synthesizing and analyzing a huge amount of data. I love that book, though I don’t agree with all of it, but I also really like Archaeology as Cultural History from 2000, which is his post-structuralist phase. Let’s say he has gone through a lot of incarnations as a scholar. When I was coming up with my dissertation topic, I thought a lot about Ian’s idea of the “middling class.” He sees a “middling ideology” arising archaeologically in the burial record in the eighth century, and he argues that this foreshadows the development of democracy and an ideology of equality between citizen males in the Classical period. 

The site of Lato on Crete, where architecture suggests the existence of state institutions somewhat distinct from those present on the mainland (S. Murray)

But that’s a very Athenian thing, and I’d worked on Crete at that point, where the material is so different from the mainland. So, does this middling class thing actually work everywhere, or can we tell a different story on Crete? I’m still working on this part of the dissertation, but I think that the idea of the Classical small-holding farmstead, which looks a certain kind of way on the mainland and in mainland survey, has been integral to the idea of a “middling” farmer class and a Greek ideology of equality. But that just doesn’t seem to be happening in the same way on Crete. I think a lot about Ian’s work – sometimes it seems like I can’t write more than a couple of pages without citing him. He has an article on everything. The project is very rooted in that body of work. 

And many Stanford Classics students tend to produce these projects – your dissertation is one example – that synthesize and reinterpret preexisting published work at scale. That is what we’re encouraged to do. 

It's go big history or go home for Stanford archaeology PhDs (S. Murray)

SCM: Yeah, it is not the kind of program where you are going to publish the pottery from Ian’s excavation as your dissertation.

GKE: Absolutely not.

SCM: Now we’ve talked about some pretty heavy work stuff (this is what happens when you get a couple of Stanford Iron Age nerds together!), but let’s now move to the real hard-hitting questions. Something that my colleagues and I spent a lot of time doing at Stanford was sampling all of the burritos in the Bay Area. What about you, do you have a favorite place? Care to weigh in on this important issue?

The scene at La Bamba taqueria in Mountain View, ca. 2010 (S. Murray)

GKE: This is a pretty hard hitting question! The Northern California burrito is a glorious creation. I grew up in Northern California, so I’ve been eating these since I was a child. My favorite is probably El Farolito in the mission. They have really good burritos. Do you have an opinion?

SCM: I remember eating a lot of burritos and that they were all awesome, but as a rustic Appalachian from coal country I can’t say I was all that much of a subtle connoisseur. I don’t think I have ever met a Mexican food I didn’t like. There was a place near where I lived in Palo Alto that had really spicy chorizo burritos, which I crushed a lot of while studying for general exams. But given that it is Palo Alto I’m sure it’s closed now.

Awesome Vicente on the wall of a taqueria in Palo Alto, ca. 2010 (S. Murray)

GKE: Yeah, I think everything good in Palo Alto is closed. Even the Nuthouse (the only decent dive bar in Palo Alto and a favorite haunt of Stanford grad students) is closing now!

SCM: WHAT? That is crazy. Let’s not go there: I don’t want to get too emotional. Speaking of Mexican food, I don’t have to tell you that Porto Rafti, where we live for BEARS, has some extremely authentic Mexican cuisine on offer at the world-famous Conga Lounge. Aside from Greece’s best Mexican food, what else about Porto Rafti did you like (or not like) as a place to live and work?

Grace, Elliott, and Matthias enjoy a lunch break on Pounta – in the distance are Raftis and Raftopoula islands (K. Apokatanidis)

GKE: Every field experience I’d had in Greece before BEARS involved staying in a very tiny village. Porto Rafti is really different because it is a seaside resort situation. I am not going to lie – I did miss the village-y aspect of things. But Porto Rafti is awesome because the sites themselves are so cool and unlike anything I’d ever surveyed before – finding so many lithics, or going to work on a boat! I’d never done that before on an archaeological project, and that was so awesome. I also really liked the house that Rob, Maeve, and I stayed in, which was also the home of our tortoise friend Marina, and the owner Giorgos was so friendly and great. I enjoyed the community.

Giorgos house roomies Maeve, Grace, and Rob at home after a day of work in Porto Rafti in summer 2019 (R. Stephan)

It was also cool to go there because I took Modern Greek for four years at Stanford and the professor, Eva Prionas – whom you also know – has been going to Porto Rafti since she was a kid because her family was Athenian and had a summer house there. I had heard her talking about Porto Rafti all the time, and when I found out your project was in Porto Rafti, I thought that was great, that I could actually go and work in this place I’d heard so much about.

SCM: Yeah, that is funny! I can’t remember that she talked about Porto Rafti back when I was in class with her, but I’m probably just getting senile. I agree that it’s an unusual setting for fieldwork, and kind of a strange town in a lot of other ways. But the Prionas connection is great – we’ll all have to hang out there together someday.

GKE: Yeah, I talked to her the other day! She has a book on Porto Rafti’s history that mentions your AJA article and she was really excited – she was like, “Look! Sarah Murray in the Porto Rafti book!”

Sofia Gliati-Chasioti's book on the history of Porto Rafti (G. Psaltis)

SCM: Haha, that’s awesome. I’m famous! I can retire! But, seriously, Eva is great – I am glad that Stanford has someone like that on staff to teach Modern Greek, and that the program encourages people to do that. Now turning to another question about fieldwork. It sounds like you’ve worked on a bunch of really amazing projects with excellent people and superb mentors who’ve provided you with many memorable experiences. Any favorite, most impactful, or most exciting moments that stand out in all those years of work?

GKE: Hmm, that’s a hard question! I’d have to talk a lot about Anavlochos here, the excavation where I work in Crete, directed by Florence Gaignerot-Driessen. That project is just unbelievably amazing. The site is really cool, because you have a cemetery and a sanctuary and votive deposits and a settlement – you almost never get the fully picture of ritual, mortuary, and settlement contexts from one site! It’s like a sampler of all the different contexts you could possibly work in. 

View to the village of Vrachasi, home base for the Anavlochos team, from the mountain above (G. Erny)

Anavlochos also combines the things I like best about survey and excavation. You have to hike a lot to get to the settlement and the votive deposits – to reach the votive deposits, you basically have to do a rock scramble over a beautiful Cretan mountain for almost an hour. So before you do the excavation, you get the survey feeling of wandering up the mountain on the old Ottoman cart road. It’s the best of both worlds.

View from the heights of Anavlochos towards the sea to the north (G. Erny)

One of my favorite Anavlochos moments was in 2017. The survey team had found figurines on the surface of one part of the mountain during the previous year. I was digging in this area, in a tiny bedrock crevice, with just one other team member. So we were scraping this crevice and basically hanging over the edge of the mountain. The crevice was just stuffed with Late Minoan IIIC figurines, including a lot of animal figurines like birds and bulls. It was so cool! We kept finding figurine after figurine, and we had to take a dGPS point on each of them, but they kept popping up so quickly it was hard to keep track, so we were using labelled nails to mark their place and then would shoot the nails. It was crazy. 

That was my first year on Anavlochos. I had been to the site year before because I had been working at Jan Driessen’s project at Sissi on the coast, and we went up to visit. Florence took us to see the Geometric houses and I just thought: ‘I need to dig here. This is the coolest site I’ve ever seen.’ So, yeah, little LM IIIC figurine-palooza was a real highlight in recent years.

A whopping big wheelmade Postpalatial bull figurine from Phaistos in the Heraklion museum on Crete (S. Murray)

SCM: It’s hard to match that kind of experience! It sounds like such a cool site and a super fun place to work – hiking and figurine deposits all at once…

GKE: It almost wasn’t fair – it was zero work. The deposit was slope wash in a bedrock crevice, so you just brush the dirt off and suddenly, oh, a bunch of figurines!

SCM: I’m thinking about how in archaeology there are people that just seem to have a magical level of good luck, and find unexpected and interesting stuff wherever they go. Hugh Sackett was famous for this – with the Palaikastro kouros, Lefkandi, etc. But it sounds like you might have the magic touch, too.

GKE: That would be cool. I hope that is true.

The site of Palaikastro as seen from the peak sanctuary above at Petsophas (S. Murray)

SCM: You could put it on your CV. Magical Hugh-Sackett type bringer of figurines. Okay, final question. You are about to head to Greece to spend the next academic year at the ASCSA in Athens, which I imagine is exciting. What are you looking forward to about that experience, and what are some of your goals for your stay there – not just necessarily academic goals, but things you might want to do or see in and amongst the many hours of Blegen toil?

GKE: Well, I’m really excited to use the famed American School library. I’ve been inside it, but I’ve never really sat and worked in there. I’ve heard it’s really great. That’ll be nice because Stanford’s library is not great for Greek archaeology, as I’m sure you’ll remember.

SCM: Right. It is kind of all relative though. I didn’t realize how good I had it at Stanford until I went to some other places that really had bad libraries for Greek archaeology. But Blegen Battle Stations cannot be beat, that’s for sure.

GKE: Yeah, I end up Interlibrary Loaning a lot of stuff, so it will be nice to just have it all there. 

The main goal is obviously to finish my dissertation. But beyond that, I would like to do a lot more traveling in Greece. The end of the E4 trail runs all the way across Crete, starting at the west end and ending at the Gorge of the Dead, and I’ve hiked the very end of that trail at Kato Zakro, but I think it would be awesome to do the whole thing. That is my number one top rated goal.

The eastern terminus of the E4 at the base of the Gorge of the Dead (S. Murray)

Even if that doesn’t happen, I just want to spend some time exploring different regions. One of the things that’s so cool about Greece is that there are so many regions that are distinct from one another. I never did the regular year at the ASCSA, where you do a lot of traveling around. I’ve explored the Peloponnese and East Crete quite a bit, but I’ve never really been to northern Greece, any of the northern islands, or Samos and Rhodes. I’ve never been to Turkey. I’d just like to take a lot of road trips. I don’t know with COVID, but hopefully it will be pretty easy to get around in-country at least. 

SCM: That is definitely a good goal! There are so many beautiful and fascinating places to see in Greece, way, way beyond just the archaeological sites. And this is the time to do it, before you get all trapped in the tentacles of a job and tied down with other stuff. Well, I hope it is a year of many triumphs and travels, and that we can talk all about them next summer in BEARS 2021. Meanwhile thanks for this super interesting interview, and good luck with the big move ahead.

Impossibly stunning, untamed landscapes in southwestern Crete, east of Soughia (S. Murray)

Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 3: Joseph Frankl

Joseph (aka, Joey) Frankl is currently a PhD candidate entering his fourth year in the Interdepartmental Program in Classical Art and Archaeology (IPCAA) at the University of Michigan. He came to work on the BEARS project last summer fresh off a long stretch of regional survey with (and highly recommended by the directors of) the Western Argolid Regional Project (WARP).  Joey brought a thoughtful and diligent approach to survey in Porto Rafti during the 2019 season, and will be taking on an important role analyzing the project’s Roman pottery in subsequent seasons. For now, he is spending the summer basking in the glow of a significant recent triumph – the successful completion of his doctoral program’s preliminary exams. BEARS project management caught up with him at his home in Ann Arbor on a recent, sunny June afternoon and he was gracious enough to interrupt his day and give us the following interview.

Joey en route to Raftis island during the 2019 BEARS season (photo credit: K. Alexakis)

SCM: Let’s begin with the basics: you are currently working on your PhD in Classical archaeology at Michigan. What inspired you to pursue a graduate degree in this area, and why did you end up choosing this particular program?

JVF: Well, I wish I had a better origin story in some ways! In fact, I think it’s more of an anti-origin story, because I can’t really identify any clear beginnings. I took a Classics course my first year at Macalester College, where I did my undergrad, and the professor who was teaching it, Andy Overman, was directing a project at Omrit in Israel. He gave me an opportunity to go and work with them, which was really generous, but the project was actually kind of not optimal. It wasn’t a great year to be there, because it was the last year of that particular campaign; everyone got food poisoning; there were these horrible gnats. I mean, I liked the project, but I wouldn’t say that I fell in love with archaeology right away. 

But I kept taking archaeology courses the rest of the way through college, and I realized that what I liked about it was that it was essentially history, but without the texts. I suppose I’d grown up with the idea that history is something that’s told through literature and texts. The idea that you could tell the story of the past through stuff instead – everything from mundane objects to huge, monumental buildings – was really revolutionary to me. In the end, that was what really attracted me to archaeology. And the more coursework that I took and the more scholarship that I actually read, the more interesting I realized the questions you could answer from material worlds were. There were all these great theoretical debates, and big historical questions about the long-term of human existence that could only be addressed by looking at objects – and I just became increasingly enchanted with the discipline. So I’d say the more I do archaeology the more I love it, which is a good feeling.

Then, I fell in love with Greece and fieldwork, too.

The site of Omrit during an active excavation season (photo credit: J. Frankl)

SCM: Yeah, that happens to a lot of us – it’s like falling into a swamp that you can’t escape, but in a good way. So, why Michigan?

JVF: Right – well, I was deciding between a couple of different programs, but what attracted me most to Michigan was that there was a big group of graduate students and a lot of archaeology students specifically. There aren’t a lot of programs that have that kind of sizable community. I knew from the start that I didn’t want my graduate career to solely be preparation for an academic job that I probably won’t get after six or seven years, so I wanted it to be an awesome experience when I was there. The vibe I got at Michigan was that the students not only had fun but that there was a lot of substance to their experience in terms of the intellectual environment, and they had a real feeling of camaraderie. And that’s been actually true.

The funny thing is that when you make choices about graduate school you’re working with such partial information. But I basically decided that having a great group of peers was my top priority, and Michigan really stood out in that area.

This is Michigan (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: That makes a lot of sense – and it sounds like you made a great choice. I like your point about how you really have very little idea what you’re doing when you are choosing a grad school. I definitely went to Stanford for my PhD for reasons that ended up seeming really ridiculous when I reflected back on my actual experience in that department.

JVF: Exactly – the things that actually end up being important to you, like writing your dissertation or the classes you take, are basically impossible to predict when you’re applying. It’s just a weird constellation of chance and individuals.

SCM: Very true! But if you don’t have solid friends in grad school you will probably be miserable no matter what, so I think you were smart to look at camaraderie as an important sprocket in the decision-making process.

JVF: Yeah, I remember when I was making that decision in 2017, I already knew that the chances of getting a good job were pretty daunting. So I didn’t want to do the whole graduate school thing just for the sake of getting a job – it had to be pleasurable in some way.

A group of archaeology students enjoying great cameraderie on Thasos in spring 2011 (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: Well, fortunately, these days the prospects for jobs are looking way better! Ahem. Anyway, going back to the doctoral program, where are you currently in terms of progress and what kinds of research are you pursuing?

JVF: I just finished my third year, which means I’ve now advanced to candidacy. I did three years of coursework and many, many exams. I believe there were six different types – French, German, Greek, a qualifying exam, prelims, and a history exam. I spent a lot of my time worried about those things and trying to finish term papers. It was very rigorous, and I’m definitely a little bit tired at the end of all that. But now I actually get to focus on my own research and some of the field projects that I’ve been involved with. My dissertation is going to be on the Roman Imperial economy, basically the 1st century BC to the 3rd century CE, in Greece. There is not a lot of synthetic work on that topic, and I’m really interested in this idea of economic integration and the way that imperialism impacts peoples’ relationships with resources and material objects. 

I’m still trying to figure out what that’s specifically going to look like in terms of a dissertation. That’s actually something I wanted to talk to you about at some point: framing a dissertation and how one takes these big questions and connects them to a focused archaeological project. It seems like your book project was really successful in this regard.

SCM: Hmmm, well, for me it took a long time to get to the point of a clearly useful and coherent project! I know everyone has a different process for this kind of thing. But for me, I always have to let my research projects develop through the writing process itself. I mean, you have to come up with some kind of plausible-seeming framing from the beginning, but I ended up writing something totally different for my dissertation than what I planned from the start. And that’s been true of my second book as well. I only ever seem to find what’s interesting in a topic when I start writing about it, and then there’s this great eureka moment when you really traction onto what’s interesting and valuable there and what your contribution will be. I think for most people it’s a whole process. We can talk about that more later.

There's got to be a viable dissertation in this muck somewhere.... (photo credit: S. Murray)

JVF: Yeah – so, in any case, I’m basically right on the precipice of starting the dissertation. I’ve got some other things going on, too. I’m involved in the Western Argolid project like some other folks on BEARS. And I’ve got several other ideas for articles I’d like to write up at some point, things that have emerged from term papers and other creative interventions I hope I’ll get a chance to work on. I just felt like I had no time the first few years.

SCM: It’s a really important inflection point in most people’s academic careers – you’ve been in classes basically for your whole existence as a sentient human being, and now you’ve reached this cliff edge where you careen off into the abyss of independent research. Most people are definitely glad to say goodbye to courses at this point. Looking back, though, could you pinpoint a favorite course, or a most valuable experience in the early stages of your grad career?

Farewell classes. Hello unknowable research void! (photo credit: S. Murray)

JVF: Absolutely. There was a course I took my second year, Mobility, Connectivity, and Global Networks in the Western Mediterranean, which is not my geographical area of interest, but it was an amazing seminar. Every single person in the room had smart things to say every week, nobody ever wanted the class meetings to end, and everyone always felt really energized afterwards. It was taught by Linda Gosner who was a postdoc at Michigan and did her PhD at Brown on Roman Iberia. So, we shared an interest in the Roman Imperial economy, although she’s focused more on the western Mediterranean. She brought a lot of enthusiasm to the material and also structured the discussion in such a way that we were able to work together through these difficult theoretical texts but also look closely at the archaeological applications of those theories. We even created a reading group out of that seminar. It’s those types of peer interactions, where you’re really helping each other build knowledge together – that’s what I am going to miss the most about coursework.   

SCM: That sounds like an amazing seminar! Would that all grad seminars could be so good.

JVF: Right – someone once told me that you should count on about 50% of grad seminars being just generally bad.

SCM: Ha – I have never heard that stat before, but it sounds pretty accurate to me. One way that you’ll probably continue to have this kind of peer fellowship, even as you do independent research, is of course through fieldwork. So, turning to fieldwork, I know that before coming to BEARS you worked on another survey project, in the western Argolid. What other kinds of projects have you done thus far?

Teamwork outside of the classroom on Raftis island (photo credit: K. Alexakis)

JVF: My first excavation was at Omrit in Israel, as I mentioned earlier. I also excavated at the Agora in Athens for a summer, and did a kind of rescue excavation in Corinth for a few weeks in 2016. So, I’ve had some excavation experience, and then WARP and BEARS, and I also worked in Turkey at Notion, which is my advisor Chris Ratté’s project.

SCM: Wow, lots of different places! Would you say that you prefer excavation or survey projects, and why one or the other?

JVF: A much debated question! I think I prefer survey. But they’re both enjoyable for different reasons. Digging in dirt is a sensational experience, and there’s this joy in discovery. I love survey, but rarely do you find amazing, well-preserved objects. In Israel, I helped excavate a fresco-decorated wall, and that was a pretty painstaking but also extraordinary experience.

THE fresco at the site of Omrit in Israel (photo credit: P. Sapirstein)

 But survey is so amazing because you are embedded in the landscape, which creates this relationship with the present. Survey combines the contemporary and the old in this unique way that you don’t necessarily feel when you are digging. When you are digging you’re really just engaging with the archaeological record and you don’t really think that much about the modern environment in which that record is embedded. But I like the idea of the past in the present, and I think that’s one thing that survey does really well. Survey is also a much more embodied experience of moving through the landscape, which captures both time and space, and you just don’t get the same feeling in excavation.

The western Argolid in dramatic light (photo credit: J. Frankl)
A panoramic landscape in the western Argolid (photo credit: J. Frankl)

SCM: That’s an interesting observation, that survey work provides us with a really unusual way of experiencing time and space. And maybe a glimpse into how any human, ancient or modern, would have moved through the same landscape. Although I hope for the sake of ancient people that there were fewer maquis bushes around back then. 

JVF: What is the history of maquis? Is it a diachronic phenomenon? Do we have any texts where Aristotle complains about maquis or something?

SCM: An important question! I’m not sure exactly, but one thing that’s amazing is to look back at photos of the Greek landscape from the earlier 20th century. The Mazi Plain, where I worked before BEARS, is almost totally free of maquis in some of those photos! And Koroni is the same. The issue seems to be that grazing regimes were much more thoroughgoing and intensive back then. Sheep and goats will eat the hell out of some maquis: it’s one of their favorites. So I think it’s safe to say that in any period when there were a lot of herd animals, there would have been less scrubby vegetation around in the Greek landscape. But it is hard to say exactly.

The goat is the surveyor's best friend in many ways (photo credit: S. Murray)

JVF: Perhaps this would be a good dissertation topic for someone.

SCM: Indeed! Now, maquis is one of the many glorious aspects of fieldwork in Greece. You said earlier that you fell in love with doing fieldwork in Greece specifically. Aside from getting stuck in thorny bushes, what do you like particularly about research and fieldwork in Greece?

JVF: I did think about doing my dissertation about Turkey, but I ultimately settled on Greece. In some ways the feeling of being in Greece is almost indescribable – the smells and sounds, the way that the mountains and ocean are so close to one another. But I think the coolest thing to me about being in Greece is the way that you experience these little worlds in themselves: sometimes you can take a pass through a little valley, and end up in a totally different environment – I guess what Horden and Purcell call microregions. I really find that feeling of escaping and being immersed in these landscapes and whole other worlds really intoxicating. Not to mention a pleasant contrast to being in an academic context the rest of the year.

It is interesting because in Porto Rafti we have that similar experience even though we’re in an urban context. So when we take the boat across to Raftis island it’s a totally different world, and same thing with Koroni. You get the same feeling of escaping into a small, independent world within an incredibly beautiful landscape.

I’ve also had the chance to make a lot of great friends who live in Greece and are Greek, and I think the more you develop these kinds of social ties the more you are going to be drawn back to the same place.

Herakles and Joey surveying together on Raftopoula island (photo credit: K. Alexakis)

SCM: That’s a great point – I noticed how closely you bonded with our Ephoreia supervisor Herakles last summer! Another new social tie to keep you yo-yo-ing back to Greece

JVF: Yeah, I need to send him an email!

SCM: I’m sure he’d absolutely love to hear from you. I’m now also realizing that a lot of the reason that I love going to Greece is that it is where I spend time with most of my best friends. This has been a weirdly lonely summer in that regard. But, returning to fieldwork, one thing that is interesting to me is that you’ve decided to work in Greece but on Roman material, and in particular that you are looking at Roman pottery in some of your fieldwork projects, including BEARS. Now, it’s probably not too controversial to say that Roman pottery is not the most obvious thing to get excited about if you’re a Greek archaeologist. Not to say that it’s not interesting, but, for example, I don’t think I ever even saw a picture of Roman pottery in most of my Greek archaeology classes in school. So, you’ve taken a relatively unusual tack in this regard. Where has your interest in Roman Greece and Roman pottery come from and why did you decide to pursue that as a research specialty?

Some exciting specimens of Roman pottery in an Athenian museum collection (photo credit; J. Frankl)

JVF: That’s a great question. Ultimately there are a lot of things about the Roman empire that I find personally very interesting. I’m interested in imperialism in general, and in the way that – in the case of Rome – having a huge empire that is so interconnected changed the way that people viewed their relationship to the material world. Although there are other places and periods of antiquity where you can get a look at imperialism, that kind of hyperconnectivity at scale is particular to the Roman period. There are all these cool developments: mass production and trans-regional, trans-provincial trade, the circulation of objects at a large scale, and I find all of that stuff really compelling to think about.

There are lots of angles from which a person can explore their intellectual interests. In my case, I came to Greece and loved it and made lots of friends there, so then I found a way to examine research questions I found interesting in a way that pertained to that environment. There’s also a lacuna in the scholarship. So, there has been a confluence of various different things that led me to get into the Roman period in Greece specifically. I guess it might not seem as exciting to other people…

Joey with a sherd of Roman pottery in hand on Raftis island (Photo credit: K. Alexakis)

SCM: No way! I mean, I am on the record as kind of a Roman disparager, but the way you explain it makes it sound like a super interesting project. And you’re right that there’s a big hole in the scholarship there, and there is a ton of material. It’s great that there are smart people like you who are motivated to wander in there and tackle it. 

I guess it’s not really fair to ask this since you haven’t had much of a chance to study the BEARS material yet, but do you have any first impressions of what might be cool or interesting about the Roman pottery from Raftis? Is it going to be awesome or kind of useless for your project?

JVF: I think it’s going to be great! Last year I noticed quite a bit of fineware and quite a lot of amphoras. I’m interested in the amphoras because they are going to tell us about trade and production, as will the fineware to some extent. I think it should be an interesting assemblage. It seems like there might be some early Roman material, which would be exciting, but I’ll have look at it a little more closely. The majority of what we collected is definitely Late Roman, and a lot of it is quite nice – the combware is really beautiful.

Sherds of Roman pottery as seen on the BEARS project (photo credit: J. Frankl)

SCM: It should be exciting to try to figure out what people were up to out there in the Roman period.

JVF: Right! From what I’ve read about Attica and the Roman economy, it seems that there was a general interest in islands, and that seemed to be happening in general in the Aegean then too. The Aegean becomes hyperconnected, and islands seem to play a role in that. It will be interesting to see what the node of Raftis was doing in this larger network. And that goes back to what’s so exciting to me about the Romans – every site is part of this big picture narrative of globalized, interconnected economies. It’s cool that we will be able to make an argument and contribute to that kind of debate.

SCM: Cool stuff, for sure. Hopefully we can actually go to Porto Rafti again and work on these issues soon. What did you think about Porto Rafti as a place to live and work? I know it is very different from the western Argolid in a lot of ways.

Some of the few, but abundantly charming, year-round residents of Porto Rafti (photo credit: J. Frankl)

JVF: It was unique for me among my experiences in Greece. It’s definitely a vacation town and really lacks a central civic space, which is a key feature of most towns in Greece. But I did like being there. I went on a lot of long runs around the city and the region. One thing that I loved is that once you got just over the ridge west of the town you are suddenly in this big arid agricultural landscape, but to the east it’s a fabulous view of the sea, and I liked going back and forth between those environments so easily. I’d like to explore it a little bit more – it’s a big town and hard to get around too much without a car. I didn’t really feel I got a good sense of the community or have as much contact with individuals as I would have liked. But my impression is that a lot of people just come in on the weekends, so maybe there’s just not that much of a community to start with. I was actually at a friend’s house – he’s a Greek American – and he had a coffee table book from the 80s about architecture in Greece, and there were a bunch of houses on the slopes around in Porto Rafti in there, which I thought was funny.

A drawing of the architecturally compelling Apollonion development in Porto Rafti by Constantine Doxiadis

SCM: That is awesome – who knew Porto Rafti was renowned throughout the land for its avant-garde 1980s beach houses!? But, yeah, it is a funny town compared to your normal Greek village in a lot of ways – no plateia! Can you imagine? We’ll have to keep trying to figure out what makes it tick and find the community in future BEARS seasons. Okay, last question: I know you’re an avid reader and a fine connoisseur of culture in general. What have you been reading or watching to relax and/or avoid excessive doomscrolling recently?

Here's to a relaxing, if occasionally lonely, summer of rest (photo credit: S. Murray)

JVF: Oh yeah, I’ve been reading a lot and watching a lot of movies. I got a subscription to the Criterion channel which has a lot of old art films that I’ve really enjoyed watching. The last one I watched was called Old Joy, a movie from the mid 2000s about two old high school friends who go on a backpacking trip in their 30s. It’s all about melancholy and friendship and paths going different directions – it’s really beautiful. But I’ve watched a lot of excellent movies – it’s a great way to keep your mind off of everything horrible that’s happening out there. Movies are better than tv for that,  because you actually have to focus on them. For books, I recently read Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, and it is so great – I recommend it to anyone! His descriptions of eating bread with olive oil…

SCM: Whoa, it sounds like you’re torturing yourself – reading about being in the Mediterranean eating freshly baked bread with olive oil during a summer like this!

Simple pleasures of seaside Mediterranean cuisine, here on a small island off the coast of Gramvousa, Crete (photo credit: S. Murray)

JVF: Yeah, but it’s totally worth it! Seriously – great book. And I don’t even generally love Hemingway. I’m also rereading Housekeeping by Marilyn Robinson, which is also a really beautiful book that I recommend to everyone. It’s about two orphans being raised by their aunt in Idaho. Anyway, other than that, I have just been trying to enjoy the sensual pleasures of being in Ann Arbor. 

SCM: Indeed! May the pleasures of Ann Arbor be manifold and keep you satisfied through the rest of the summer.

Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 2: Dr. Maeve McHugh

Dr. Maeve McHugh (University of Birmingham) is a landscape archaeologist whose research focuses on agriculture, rural economies, and the lives of agricultural workers in Archaic and Classical Greece. She has worked on a number of archaeological projects in Greece during her career, and supervises a major component of the intensive survey on the BEARS project. In 2019 she led all of the fieldwork that took place on the Koroni peninsula leveraging her expertise in field methods to train a new generation of maquis-bashing survey archaeologists. We recently chatted with Dr. McHugh about her history in archaeology and her experiences working in the field in Greece. This interview has been condensed and edited slightly for clarity.

Maeve at the rural "Princess Tower" in southeastern Attica (photo courtesy M. McHugh)

SCM: Thanks for agreeing to talk with me today! It’s nice to see you, even if it’s through a computer screen. But enough with the small talk: let’s get down to the business of this important interview. We’ve worked together in the field now for a while, but we didn’t really meet until we were both pretty advanced in our respective careers. Tell me how you got to that point – how did you get mixed up in this crazy career of Classical archaeology? 

MCM: My origin story! That’s a really good question. I think we started working together back in 2014, was it? Right? Quite a while ago now!

SCM: Yeah, I think that’s right! I guess we’re pretty old at this point. But take me back to your youth!

MCM: Well, I grew up in a nice, normal, suburban neighborhood, in a working class to middle class area – most people who lived around there did manual labor, things like that. My mum was a secretary, and nobody in my family had gone to university before. It was not really on my horizon to go to university or pursue entry into a university or anything like that. But one day, I was just going about my daily business, and I ended up picking up a book from the library on the Odyssey. The reason why I did was that my mum had just said something in passing about an ‘Achilles heel’. And I said, ‘well what’s that?’ And she said, ‘It’s from a Greek myth, where the heel is the weak part’. And I said, ‘Oooooh, tell me more!’ So I went to the library and I got out an edition of the Odyssey that was illustrated by Peter Connolly. If you don’t know him, he’s a great watercolor artist who did a lot of drawings and paintings for children’s literature. The book wasn’t the full Odyssey, it was an abridged version – but the drawings in it just captured my imagination completely. The drawings of Diomedes, and Achilles, and Helen and everything – I was just fascinated by it. 

Inspiring adventures from the shelves of YOUR taxpayer funded public libraries (photo courtesy M. McHugh).

Around then I was talking to my sister and I said “I am REALLY loving this book”! I was about twelve, and she’s a bit older. And she said, ‘Well you know, that’s all an ancient civilization – Ancient Greece!’ And I said, ‘Hang on a minute here! You’re telling me this is real????’ And that just opened the floodgates and I haven’t been able to stop the flood since! The book had a companion with pictures of the Mask of Agamemnon and the Mycenaean grave circles, and all that stuff. My imagination was just absolutely taken up with it and I loved every second of looking through those books. So much so that my mum bought me a typewriter (this was before computers), and I actually started to type up my summary of the Iliad and the Odyssey! This was my first foray into academic scholarship – my brother brought home a red folder from work, and I put the summary into the red folder: my little treasure! My five-page synthesis of Homer – and of course an explanation of why Achilles was the coolest.

I distinctly remember my next pivotal moment was seeing a photograph of the Parthenon, and not believing it was possible that people could have built that. And also thinking about how amazing it was that they built it for a religion that I knew nothing about, and for a whole culture and a social system that I knew nothing about! When you’re a kid you’re brought up thinking there is just this one way of being and thinking, whatever one you are immersed in growing up. But that’s when I first started thinking about how there was this different culture that existed thousands of years earlier that was totally alien to my assumptions. I’d say only a very niche group of people worship Zeus or Athena now, but it used to be the whole thing! Everybody did it! And that just fascinated and intrigued me.

The acropolis in Athens: an inspiring sight by any account (photo credit: S. Murray)

But it was definitely not something that I set myself out on a career trajectory to do. After I finished my exams, at the end of secondary school, I did a two-year course in equine science, because I was a very avid horsewoman. Then I went and I lived in Switzerland for a while, working in a yard there. But one day I had a quite serious fall, and I realized that, at age 21, I was getting ‘too old’ for this career! And I didn’t want to be one of those old people with broken knees and fractured skulls and things like that. So I went and got a job in a bank, which was quite soul-destroying. I started my degree at University College Dublin (UCD), doing English for two years, but I still thought that wasn’t quite for me. I decided I’d go to Italy and teach TEFL (English as a foreign language) there. And that was the first time that I had ever actually seen all of these things in the flesh that I used to be really fascinated by – the theater at Verona, all the ruins in Rome, Greek pottery. And then I said to myself, ‘Why not? Why not do a degree in it?’ 

So I switched majors from English to Classics and Archaeology at UCD, working all during the day, still in a bank selling loans, which continued to be – as I noted – absolutely soul-destroying. This was actually just before the financial crash in 2008, so I had a very small part to play in that crash! But I started into the degree and that was it – I knew this was something that I wanted to do.

A young Maeve with two cousins and a Falabella stallion called Tiny (photo courtesy M. McHugh)

SCM: What amazing stories! I feel like there is a valuable lesson there about the importance of public libraries for kids out there, especially working and middle class kids without fancy educations.

MCM: Absolutely! I actually found that book many years later and went and bought a copy, and when I held it in my hands I was immediately twelve again.

SCM: On the topic of the Odyssey, it sounds like your journey to archaeology and Classics has been an odyssey in itself! I think we as a field are lucky that you ended up where you did, because you’re doing really world-class research these days. You’re already the author of a groundbreaking book on ancient farmsteads and now I know you’re making progress on a second book project on the larger topic of agricultural labor. How did you get into this particular area of research and what interests you about it?

Maeve (left) tells members of the Mazi Archaeological Project all about an ancient farmstead during the summer of 2017 (photo credit: C. Cloke)

MCM: When I started to do my PhD at UCD, I thought I was going to do a PhD on urban houses. But several books had recently come out about houses, and I really didn’t think I had anything new to say on the topic. I started to do more reading, and got into reading quite a bit about landscape survey. I was seeing this word ‘farmstead’ pop up quite often. And I started to get really intrigued about what was going on with these farmsteads, because I’d never really thought about where people lived outside the city, or whether they did live outside of the city. Then I realized after reading that it’s actually quite a contentious topic: whether farmsteads existed or not, how do we identify them, and so on. So I thought, AH HA, this is a question I want to try to answer. 

So I did! And I published my book, and then leading on from that, I started thinking about what I thought and experienced when I was hiking through the landscape in Greece. I’ve been very lucky through the years to work on projects where I’ve had the opportunity to go hiking in the landscape: with you, and with our colleague and friend Syl, where we wander around trying to find these ancient roads and ancient sites. I find the idea of what it was actually like for people to live in these places and work in this landscape really intriguing. 

Maeve and Syl working together after a hike during the Mazi Archaeological Project in 2017 (photo credit: S. Murray)

I did a bit more reading about agricultural work and found there were work songs, and fables about work and all this other evidence for what went on in ancient Greece beyond just the fancy shiny temples of the Acropolis. So I concocted a project aimed at figuring out what it was like to be a ‘normal’ person back then. Only a very small percentage of the population of the ancient world, or even up to and past the Industrial Revolution, was ever living in cities and engaging in trade and commerce and all that stuff we know a lot about. The vast majority of society – people living outside of all that – are usually kind of left out of the story. And those people are the kinds of people I associate with myself. My family wasn’t poor, but we definitely were people focused on work, getting paid, keeping a roof over our heads, that kind of stuff. So I guess that makes me more interested in what those kinds of concerns were like in the ancient world and what people like me and my family would have dealt with back then.

That’s also why I get so excited when I am actually in the Greek landscape. I mean, when I first saw the Parthenon of course I sort of lost my mind, but after that the shine kind of wears off. When I’m in a landscape – and I know this is a little bit romantic – seeing the shape of the mountains, that hasn’t really changed: I’m looking at the same shape of the mountains that an ancient farmer would have looked at. And that for me is a very evocative and exciting thing.

It is impossible to tire of the infinite mountainscapes of the Aegean. Here view south from the village of Leondakis in the Mani (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: Well, it’s super cool research, and I agree that it’s important to try to appreciate what most people’s lives were like rather than obsessing over these indolent academic types who sit around reading and writing all the time! Now, imagining an ancient farmer on an ancient farmstead: if you were an ancient farmer, what would have been your favorite crop and why?

MCM: My favorite crop would be olives for making olive oil. And vines as well.

SCM: No, you only get one crop!

MCM: Fine! Olive oil, then, because of the economic return.

SCM: Ah I see your old bank loan officer persona emerging here!

MCM: Yeah, you see, a part of my soul has been permanently destroyed by that job! For sure the best crop would be olives for oil.

Our colleague Rob Stephan with an ancient olive tree near Kavousi on Crete in December 2010 (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: I’m more of a barleyphile myself, but here we can agree to disagree. Okay, now sticking with the topic of work, and having worked with you in the field, I’ve noticed that you’re an incredibly hard worker and never shy away from a difficult task. You also basically never complain in the field. Where do you think your steadfast work ethic and positive attitude come from? How do you manage the physical difficulties of survey work with such elegance and aplomb?

MCM: I’d say the reason is that I feel like I’ve won the lottery. I’m doing something that I shouldn’t really get to be doing. I was told by a career counselor at school that I should look at administration level jobs, not that there’s anything wrong with them, but I couldn’t imagine working in that type of work for my entire life. I’ve worked all kinds of jobs, most of them not so great, and the fact that I get to go to Greece and ramble around in the countryside and find pieces of ancient pottery – are you kidding me?? This is the best thing ever. 

It’s always funny to talk to my family about it – my brothers don’t think I have a real job. They’ll say, ‘Well your reading isn’t actually real work.’ And my mum, she always asks me how school is, and I think she thinks of me more like a secondary school teacher. They are always very surprised that I’m doing research. But I totally understand why they think it’s so alien – for me it seems very alien too. I just love being able to do this stuff and it’s not a chore, it’s not difficult. Anytime I do find it difficult I remind myself that I’m in this amazing Greek countryside holding an amphora handle in my hand, and I just value every minute of it.

Maeve at work with an assistant at a remote farmstead in the Mazi Plain (photo credit: E. Levine)

SCM: What a great attitude. We should always remember how lucky we are to have such an amazingly cool and interesting line of work!

MCM: Yeah – six weeks in Greece: you say that to anyone and they just can’t believe that’s part of your actual job.

SCM: It sure makes you wonder why anyone ever complains. And yet some do! Now, in terms of fieldwork: what makes you love survey so much?

Labor in the countryside near Oinoe in Greece (photo credit: S. Murray)

MCM: Survey addresses a lot of different types of questions that you can’t address through excavation, and the nature of my research just fits much more naturally with those survey questions. You just get more out of landscape survey when you’re interested in agricultural activity, because you see what is happening in the landscape more broadly, rather than getting a lot of information about one place and trying to extrapolate information from that. Every farm’s agenda is going to be different depending on the particular situation in the landscape. Even if you could say that people are farming in one way in a particular place, it can’t necessarily tell you what is going on everywhere. So in that way survey is extremely well suited to produce helpful results for my research.

I also really like the big diachronic scope of survey. In survey you find all kinds of stuff from the whole history of human activity in an area: from the first time that people went out into the landscape and started chipping away at stones and decided that some stones were fancier than other stones, all the way to what pastoralists are doing in the present day. That to me is totally wonderful. I think I’m just a survey archaeologist to the very bone marrow. I just love it. It’s so cool to be wandering around in the hills and to come across a totally pristine site! It is really something special.

Ruins in the landscape at the site of Kionia in the Mani, Greece (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: How about the BEARS project – what drew you to the project and was your experience of the fieldwork like?

MCM: We’d worked together before on the Mazi Archaeological Project and gotten along quite well, and I was really grateful to get to come on the project! You’re an excellent scholar and an excellent friend and it was just a brilliant opportunity and I was excited to grab it with both hands.

The survey itself is absolutely tremendous. Grace and I were always in absolute shock at the kind of material we were collecting on the ground, it’s just unbelievable. It is a four-star A+ level of survey, not only in the types of material culture that we’re collecting and the type of resolution and detail, but also the way it’s organized and structured – I just thinks it’s a tremendous survey on several levels: I could wax lyrical about it until the cows come home.

A Cow at Home in Shenako in the Tusheti region of Georgia (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: I’m glad you’ve had a good experience! We’ve definitely benefited a lot from having you on board. Hopefully we get to go back out there someday. You mentioned before how much you appreciate the chance to work in Greece. What do you like particularly about research and fieldwork in Greece?

MCM: Well, I’m Irish – I have red hair and very, very, very, very pale skin – so it’s not the weather! It’s a constant battle not to be fried within an inch of my life there in Greece! I am not built for the Greek climate unfortunately. But I do appreciate the heat and the warmth. The food of course is just tremendous: fresh, delicious, local. The people and the lifestyle are really appealing – everything is very relaxed and calm, not panicked. I like all that stuff. I suppose I am looking at it through rose-tinted glasses because I’m there for fieldwork. If I lived there for an extended period of time I might have a very different perspective. Another thing I love about it is just that you can go out into the countryside and be at an archaeological site in ten minutes! That’s pretty great if you’re interested in the ancient past.

A person is never far from archaeology in the Aegean (evening at Kokkinokastro, Euboea, in December 2011; photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: Right, it’s very hard to do that where I live in downtown Toronto for sure! I haven’t seen a countryside in months! How about Porto Rafti – did you like it as a place to live and work?

MCM: Porto Rafti was a really nice town for a project because you could access all kinds of shops without any difficulties. And our accommodation was incredibly luxurious, so we were very well looked after. One problem was that you took your life in your hands at the weekend trying to cross the road. That was a real challenge! Loads and loads of Athenians descended onto the town on the weekends. 

There is a gated beach that tons of people would come and pay to get into just below the Koroni acropolis where I worked for most of the season. One day we were working on Koroni and we could hear the people sitting on the beach below us, and we were having a snack, and I turned to my team – two students, Irum and Kat – and said: ‘I feel like this is about to be the judgement of Paris, with the three of us sitting out here in the middle of nowhere and waiting for a shepherd to come along.’ But then just below us there was this really very 21st-century, trendy, modern beach thing going on and we could hear all of the beachgoers laughing and talking! That’s something that I both loved and disliked about working around Porto Rafti – the archaeology was really living cheek by jowl with modern society. 

A survey team shrouded in maquis on the Koroni acropolis, just above a very modern beach development (Photo credit: M. McHugh)

SCM: Yeah good point! It’s a funny place for an archaeological project in that sense. I guess it’s kind of bittersweet to be reminiscing about BEARS this summer when we can’t really be there and had to cancel the season. Aside from going back to Greece for fieldwork, what are you most excited about doing again once things go back to normal (if they ever do!)?

MCM: Probably talking to someone who isn’t my partner in actual three dimensions. And standing closer than two meters away from someone in an acceptable way. This physical isolation, even though it’s pleasant at times, has been very challenging. I’d probably want to hug a friend. Definitely not going to the shops. I don’t know who would go to the shops when you can just buy things online. 

SCM: Excellent answer! Thanks so much for talking to me today Maeve, and here’s to some friendly hugs someday.

At least the donkeys are still allowed to snuggle with one another (photo credit: S. Murray)

Archaeologist Confessionals Volume 1: Dr. Rob Stephan

Robert Stephan (University of Arizona) is a Roman archaeologist with an undergraduate degree from the University of Michigan and a PhD from Stanford University, not to mention an all around great scholar and collaborator. He is also a crucial contributor to the BEARS project. He arrived in Porto Rafti prior to the 2019 pilot season to help get everything set up for fieldwork, and then heroically spent much of the season overseeing the organization and photography of finds in the Brauron museum. Prior to joining BEARS, Dr. Rob worked on archaeological projects all over the world, from New Mexico to Armenia. BEARS project management recently sat down with him for a conversation about his experience as an archaeological fieldworker and academic. The following interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Dr. Rob at home with cactuses in Arizona (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: We’ve known each other since we were in short pants but I don’t think I’ve ever actually gotten the full scoop on your entrée into the glamorous and exciting field of Classical archaeology. So, first question: how did you first get into archaeology and why did you choose to pursue it as a career?

Rob in a looter's pit near Athienou Cyprus in 2007 (photo courtesy R. Stephan)

Dr. Rob: I had no idea going into college at the University of Michigan that I wanted to do archaeology. I’d always liked history. As a freshman, I signed up for an intro to field archaeology course. It was the one course that made me excited to go to class and that made me think “this is awesome!”. At the end of the year, I tried to convince my parents to pay for some kind of archaeological expedition. And I could tell that they were trying to be supportive, but they also did not really want to pay thousands of dollars for me to go overseas. 

I ended up on a field school in New Mexico, outside the town of Truth or Consequences. It was about a two hour ride off the nearest paved road, west into the desert. That first summer we lived on a buffalo ranch owned by Ted Turner and were excavating a couple of different sites that had to do with the Classic Mimbres culture. We lived in tents for five weeks – the longest I’d ever been in a tent prior to that was probably one or two nights. After a week or so the water ran out, and we had to shower in the buffalo tank, but you couldn’t soap up in the buffalo tank, because the buffalo had to drink from it. Instead, you jumped into the tank, and then you jumped out and slathered up, and then you dumped buckets of water on your head. And that’s how you cleaned yourself. At the end of that season, I thought, “THIS IS THE BEST! This is the most fun I’ve ever had during a summer.” And I knew archaeology was what I wanted to do. 

No doubt fresh from the Buffalo tanks (Badlands, USA. photo credit: S. Murray)

After that summer, I continued to explore all kinds of classes, everything from the major new world state-level societies to prehistoric old world stuff, to Classical archaeology. Eventually, after my junior year, I finally got out to the Mediterranean, and that was on a project in western Sicily, which took all the fun parts of the archaeology I’d done in New Mexico and combined it with incredible views of the Mediterranean and wine, which wasn’t particularly good, but it…..existed! I remember thinking at the time (I had just turned 21) that the plentiful availability of cheap wine was very exciting. That summer after my junior year, I decided: Classical archaeology, this is for me. I’m going for it.

Survey near Borgo Bonsignore Sicily 2012 (Photo courtesy R. Stephan)
One out of infinite glorious views available in the Mediterranean, here just off the coast of Gramvousa in western Crete (photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: Wow, these are some priceless anecdotes. You’re such a great storyteller! At this point, since your humble origins in the buffalo tank, you’ve worked on a bunch of different projects all over the place and have a lot of experience. What would you say are your favorite and least favorite things about working on an archaeological project?

Dr. Rob: I don’t really think about this when I’m there, but something that’s great about life on a project is that it’s so different from everyday life the rest of the year. Technology for whatever you’re doing outside of the field disappears – you put your phone away, you put your computer away, and for 4–6 weeks out of the summer, your entertainment is just hanging out with a group of people who are not necessarily the people you would hang out with all the time at home. And you really do spend a lot of time just randomly sitting around and talking with people – in the trench, in the cars to and from work, washing pottery, drinking a beer after work, or wherever. It’s just so different from how much time we spend in front of a computer or a television or a smartphone in our day to day lives today. Probably that’s the thing that I really value the most about working on these projects.

Archaeologist centerfold poses, Malloura, Cyprus in 2007 (photo courtesy R. Stephan)

Another thing that I like is that you’re embedded in a strange culture, but in an unusual context within that different culture, at least compared to what you experience when you are on a vacation. Most of the projects I’ve worked on, whether we’re in a little farm town on Cyprus, or a Greek resort town but one that’s mostly for Greek tourists, or this town that basically got destroyed by an earthquake in the 1960s in Sicily and then never got really rebuilt – they’re not places that you’re going to get on a top ten list for tourists. You also tend to stick around for longer than a tourist – you stay there for a month or two months and really get to know the town and some of the people and find your favorite café and your favorite restaurant and your favorite after-work beer bar and your favorite street dog. I find all of that creates a really enjoyable and fulfilling experience abroad.

Salemi Sicily - not exactly a tourist town (photo credit: R. Stephan)

In terms of what I don’t like, I’m really spoiled when it comes to sleeping at a comfortable temperature at night. I live in Tucson now, and tonight it’s going to be 106 degrees! During the day, you don’t even want to put your air conditioner below 78 degrees, because your air conditioner can’t handle it and it will blow up. However, at night I refuse to sleep at any temperature above 70 degrees. I need my house to feel like an ice cube. It is very difficult to achieve this in a project, because no projects ever have air conditioning. You’re lucky if you get a fan. So one of the first things that you want to do – I recommend this to anybody! – is scour the house that you’re in for a fan and try to get it before anybody else. Because there might be one for like 6–10 people staying in the house and you’re really going to want to get that first.

Alternatives to air conditioning on a fieldwork project (hot July balcony settin', Palermo. photo credit: S. Murray)

I guess otherwise it’s difficult to keep personal relationships going with people who aren’t in the field with you, in large part because of the time difference. My partner works in New Mexico, and when I want to talk on the phone she’s in the field and when she wants to talk on the phone it’s 5:30 in the morning in Greece. It can be difficult to synch up and maintain a proper communicative connection when you’re so far apart timewise.

SCM: Unlike many archaeologists (including me) who get obsessed with a particular country and just work there pretty much their whole career, you have been omnivorous in your approach to choosing fieldwork opportunities. You have worked in a wide variety of regional contexts: New Mexico, Italy, Cyprus, Armenia, England, and now Greece. Any thoughts or reflections on differences among work or life in these various contexts?

Dr. Rob: One of the big differences is what you can walk to from wherever you are staying. In Armenia, for example, we lived on a pig farm in an area that was very rural. You could do all the things you’d do on another project – have a beer after work, hang out and talk to people – but you couldn’t go anywhere else to do it. You were in the field and then you were on the farm, and that was it. Everywhere else I’ve worked – England, Cyprus, Greece, Italy – we’ve been in really small towns, but in all of those places you had opportunities to walk into the small town and go to a café or a restaurant or a bar. And that makes a really big difference in the nature of day to day life for members of the team who don’t have a car.

Pig farm in Sisian Armenia - how many archaeologists does it take to cook dinner? (photo credit: R. Stephan)

The other big difference, in large part, depends a lot on your own attitude and state of mind going into it. Sometimes in a summer I’ve worked one project for 3–4 weeks, but other summers I’ve worked on 3 projects for 4–5 weeks each all stacked up in a row. By that third project, even if conditions are similar, you are going to feel totally drained. And those things that you found totally charming about project one – being disconnected and away from things – by the third project you just want to go home and get back to civilization. So I think my experiences have been colored a lot by where I was personally and in terms of my energy when I went on these different projects.

SCM: Turning now to current events, one thing that people have been complaining about during the pandemic is that they can’t get a professional haircut. In all of the realms in which you operate, you are widely renowned for always having a really fresh fade. But this must be a challenge in a fieldwork situation as well as during a pandemic – how do you manage to maintain your signature good grooming in these remote locations?

Number one top rated in fresh fades (photo credit: S. Murray)

That’s an excellent question. I’ve had both good and bad experiences. There are a couple of rules that you’re going to want to abide by. First, you need to get a haircut right before you leave. You gotta lock down an appointment for the day before you fly. And that’s gonna get you halfway through the season. People are going to see it and recognize: WOW. That guy has a really fresh fade. The question then is: what happens afterwards? And, again, this kind of depends on the length of the summer. Can you just push it out to week five and then go home and get another haircut? Fine. But what if you have things after the project? Then something needs to happen with something. And fast!

I'll have what he's having (a barber at work in Taroudant, Morocco, photo credit: S. Murray)

One year I was in Rome after a project and I thought: how cool would it be to get an authentic Italian haircut with the classic Italian barber experience? I scoured the internet – this was back in 2008 – and me and my friend Dave Rosenthal decided we were going to go together and get authentic Italian haircuts at a place we found somewhere north of Piazzo Navona, kind of near the Mausoleum of Augustus. We walked into this little place (you could barely make out the faded paint above the door reading Barbiere) and there’s this old guy, Enzo, the barbiere himself! And I think: This is it! This is exactly what I’m looking for. 

Barbiere di Roma - corner of Via dei Portoghesi and Via dei Pianellari (photo credit: R. Stephan)

Enzo doesn’t even ask you what kind of haircut you want, Enzo is just giving you the haircut that you need. He’s cutting your hair and the whole time he’s sayin’ stuff like ‘bellissimo, bene, bene, bello’, which is amazing. So me and my buddy Dave Rosenthal got these haircuts. They were pretty good. And it felt like the experience I was looking for. We go out to pay and we’re thinking: what is this going to be, like 8 Euros? But we get to the till, and the guy says, that’s going to be 95 Euros for the two of us! And then of course he acts like he doesn’t understand any English, which he might not have, so all we could do was pay our 95 Euros and walk out of there with our authentic haircuts. We felt like we got taken for a little bit of a ride, but we were very happy with the experience.

I’ve also tried other strategies, where I’ve put my trust in other team members from the field. The lesson I learned from that is that it’s actually worth it to pay Enzo the 95 Euros. For example, one summer I was in Armenia and I thought towards the end of the project it would be really cool to get a Mr. T haircut – you know, the mohawk down the middle of the head. And I think, whatever, at the end of it, if it looks stupid, I can buzz my head and it will grow back out eventually. So immediately, the person who’s giving me the haircut takes the electric razor, and instead of shaving everything except the strip down the middle of my head goes and shaves the strip right down the middle of my head! There are not a lot of haircuts that you can really go to after that’s the starting point. I don’t really remember what we tried to do with it after that. I think we tried to try to cut several other strips into my head maybe to try to make it look like a Michigan football helmet or something. But whatever happened did not work, and it led to a very embarrassing appearance at breakfast the following day.

Shaggy fellows of all species wish there were more salon options on the Armenian pig farm (guard pig at the site of Vani, Georgia. photo credit: S. Murray)

SCM: These are really the two extreme poles of the haircut experience!

Dr. Rob: But that’s part of the excitement of being in the field.

SCM: Exactly! Now one of the things that I noticed on the BEARS project last summer is that you were not only working full time on the project, you were also teaching multiple classes and tutoring people online at the same time. I’ve never seen anyone do that before, and I wondered how you managed to juggle all those responsibilities at once while also seeming to have a good time and hang out with your friends?

Rob's eye view of a lunch break in Porto Rafti (photo credit: R. Stephan)

Dr. Rob: Well, a lot of the reason I was working so hard stems from the fact that I’m not a tenure-track professor. So I’m always a little bit on edge in terms of career type things, wondering whether the job I have is still going to be around in 5 or 10 years, or whether I’m going to have to pivot to something else. It also comes out of taking a number of years after grad school to find any kind of academic job at all. During that time, I picked up a number of different things to do: online teaching as an adjunct, one on one tutoring for academic writing, standardized test preparation – and by the way, if you need any of these things, check out DrStephanTutoring.com: it’s really a top shelf educational experience. Some say it’s even number one top rated.

It always, always starts with confidence

Now the reason this can work is all about the summer. During the summer the students have a lot more flexibility than they do during the academic year. That’s the time that you really make and keep those connections going, in terms of tutoring and teaching. Although it’s a lot of work to maintain that kind of work during a field project, it’s just too much of an opportunity to lose for a person in my position.

It’s also much more doable than people might think. As long as you put in a lot of work before you go to the field it’s very manageable. For an online course that means putting together all of your lectures and assignments and readings before you go. On the tutoring front, it’s a similar thing: you make sure that all your materials are ready to go, so when you have that hour or hour and a half long session with a student, all you have to do is that session, and then you go right back to fieldwork life. The other thing that’s helpful is that I tend to work in hot enough places that the day ends around 3pm for a siesta, so you do have time to do afternoon work as well.

Rob at a rare break between work tasks in Porto Rafti (photo credit: R. Stephan)

SCM: Those are good points, both about the unfortunate proliferation of contingent positions requiring side hustles in academia, and the importance of careful preparation prior to teaching.

Dr. Rob: Yeah, it’s just like any class – the preparation is the majority of the work, and the actual teaching time is just a very, very small proportion of the work that it takes the teach the class overall. Most of the teaching work is always frontloaded.

SCM: Wise words, wise words, as always from Dr. Rob. Now, final question: what did you think about living in Porto Rafti and working on the BEARS project overall?

Porto Rafti bay, as seen from the best gyros spot in town (photo credit: S. Murray)

Dr. Rob: Porto Rafti exceeded all expectations. Even though I’ve been a Classical archaeologist for a very long time, I’d never done fieldwork in Greece before, and I’d always worked in rural places. Porto Rafti was a beautiful mix between feeling like you’re in a remote little seaside town, but also being less than an hour from Athens and having any sort of amenity that you wanted. I’d also never worked in a place where you could walk to the sea before, so it was really an awesome experience to come back from the field, get cleaned up a little bit, then go down and have a coffee and do my work overlooking one of the most beautiful bays that I’ve ever seen. The physical location was really spectacular.

Setting sail in Porto Rafti during the 2019 season (photo credit: R. Stephan)

The town also has an interesting mix between small basic fish tavernas and weird night clubs that Athenian youths would come to on summer weekends, so that was funny: you could go to an old-school taverna and eat a grilled fish that you picked out from the day’s catch one night and then to a bar that specializes in pseudo-Mexican cuisine and fiesta music the next night. It’s not a boring town in that sense.

One of the cool experiences for me was being there on the ground in the days leading up to the pilot season, and also for the start of the work itself. All of the other projects that I’d worked on were larger operations that had been going on for a number of years before I’d shown up, so I just fit into whatever system was there. This project was exciting because we were really problem solving as we went, even for things just as simple as the most efficient way to get from point A to point B. Being part of the skeleton crew that figured those quotidian issues out was a fun and new kind of challenge for me. 

"Captain" Rob above board en route to Raftis (photo credit: S. Murray)

We also had a relatively small team, compared to other projects I’ve been on before, so you got to know everyone really well. The small size of the team made it possible to do things that you just can’t with a huge team – going out to dinner with everyone all together, making real-time adjustments in terms of what people are doing and how it’s being done. 

The other great thing about BEARS was the problem oriented nature of the survey. Compared to some of the excavations I’ve been on, which often seem to be aimed at learning a lot in general about a single site, or surveys where the aim is to learn about the diachronic occupation of a general area, BEARS is tackling a few much more specific questions. This is kind of cool, because as the data is coming in, it’s not just different numbers of different types of sherds. You’re getting real clarity on fairly specific questions in pretty much real time. That has been an interesting and unusual intellectual aspect of working on the project.

So those were a couple of things I really enjoyed. 

Also, top shelf leadership. And top shelf turtles.

SCM: Fully agree! Let’s end on that note. Thanks Dr. Rob!

It is too bad we can't find a way to change the project acronym to TURTLES.