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It is Saturday evening here. I’m just starting to wind down, in preparation for Sunday and a complete day away from the computer, from all the chores and all my hobbies and interests. I shall go and walk along the seafront instead, and rest and relax and recharge.
Sometimes it is very hard to do these things. But this custom of always keeping Sunday free from everything has been a lifesaver over the last twenty years. Most of my interests are quite compelling. Without this boundary, I would have burned out.
Phase 2 of the QuickLatin conversion from VB6 to VB.Net is complete. Phase 1 was the process of getting the code converted, so that it compiled. With Phase 2, I now have some simple phrases being recognised correctly and all the obvious broken bits fixed. The only exception to this is the copy protection, which I will leave until later.
Phase 3 now lies ahead. This will consist of creating automated tests for all the combinations of test words and phrases that I have used in the past. Code like QuickLatin has any number of special cases, which I have yet to exercise. No doubt some will fail, and I will need to do some fixes. But when this is done then the stability of the code will be much more certain. But I am trying to resist the insidious temptation to rewrite bits of the code. That isn’t the objective here.
I began to do a little of this testing over the last few hours. Something that I missed is code coverage – a tool that tells me visually how much of the code is covered by the tests. It’s an excellent way to spot edge-cases that you haven’t thought about.
It is quite revealing that Microsoft only include their coverage tool in the Enterprise, maximum-price editions of Visual Studio. For Microsoft, plainly, it’s a luxury. But to Java developers like myself, it’s something you use every day.
Of course I can’t afford the expensive corporate editions. But I think there is a relatively cheap tool that I could use. I will look.
Once the code is working, then I can set about adding the syntactical stuff that caused me to undertake this in the first place! I have a small pile of grammars on the floor by my desk which have sat there for a fortnight!
I’m still thinking a bit about the ruins of the Roman fort which lies under the waves at Felixstowe in Suffolk. This evening I found another article exists, estimating how far the coast extended and how big the fort was. It’s not online, but I think a nearby (25 miles away) university will have it. I’ve sent them a message on twitter, and we’ll see.*
I’ve also continued to monitor archaeological feeds on twitter for items of interest. I’m starting to build up quite a backlog of things to post about! I’ll get to them sometime.
* They did not respond.
J. Hagar, “A new plan for Walton Castle Suffolk”, Archaeology Today vol 8.1 (1987), pp. 22-25. It seems to be a popular publication, once known as Minerva, but there’s little enough in the literature that it’s worth tracking down.↩
I’ve had rather a busy week, ending with a rather splendid college reunion. But of course everything else has gone out of the window, and I also have rather a large sleep debt to pay off.
Today brings another chunk of translation of an early Latin Vita of St George. Chapters 9 and 11 are in my inbox now. The version is a very rough draft. The only difficulty is that the translator doesn’t read my emails with feedback, so makes the same mistakes every time. This means that I shall have to correct and finish it myself. I hope to do the job on these chunks this week. The translation is going forward nicely, tho; some 8 chapters still to do.
Today also brought a welcome email from the Colchester and Ipswich Museum Service with unwelcome news. In 1969 a team of divers surveyed the ruins of a Roman fort in the sea off Felixstowe, known locally as Walton Castle. A report was filed with the museum, and was accessible a decade ago. The email today tells me that they cannot locate it now. I have written therefore to the sub-aqua club, who may have it in their files. Another email went to the Suffolk Institute of Archaeology, who published the article mentioning the survey, to see if I can get in contact with the author in case he has a copy. We tend to think of museums and archives as safe repositories. But the truth is that history is vanishing before our eyes. So it has always been.
Last week I was working industriously on the new QuickLatin. This is going well, and crude errors are disappearing. I must get a version released online, as a base version for further work.
My backlog of interesting topics to blog about continues to increase. So much to do!
The Digital Corpus of Sanskrit (DCS) is a corpus of Sanskrit texts with resolved Sandhis and full morphological and lexical analysis.
The DCS is designed for text-historical research in Sanskrit linguistics and philology. Users can search for lexical units (words) and their collocations in a corpus of about 4.000.000 manually tagged words in 560.000 sentences or text lines.
The DCS offers two main entry points for research:
Words can be retrieved from the dictionary through a simple query or a dictionary page. For each lexical unit contained in the corpus, DCS provides the complete set of occurrences and a statistical evaluation based on historical principles.
The text interface shows all contained texts along with their interlinear lexical and morphological analysis.
Deir el-Medina is the modern name of an ancient Egyptian village situated on the west bank of the Nile opposite Luxor, the site of ancient Thebes. The village was inhabited by workmen who were responsible for the construction and decoration of the royal tombs from the New Kingdom. The exploration of Deir el-Medina has yielded a huge quantity of artefacts and texts written on ostraca or papyri, which offer a unique view into the daily life of an ancient Egyptian community.
The Deir el-Medina Database is meant to be an intermediate presentation of the ongoing research project A Survey of the New Kingdom Non-literary Texts from Deir el-Medina of Leiden University. The database is a search tool enabling the user to retrieve the documents relevant to his/her research activities from the corpus of non-literary texts from Deir el-Medina.
A series of long walks and some serious stewing (and some reading, to be fair), led me back to a few things that I had read over the past year from which I could not shake free. I went back to my paper this weekend and started to play with the ideas that really inspired it (rather than what I think I was going to try to say). This is the new introduction (and the new conclusion):
Over the last two decades, there has been the growing use of the phrase ”digital workflow.” As you might expect, the Google ngram plot looks like the proverbial hockey stick. Workflow has its roots in the language of early 20th century scientific management, and the specific application to digital practices appears to have emerged at the turn of the 21st century in the field of publishing. In this context, the use of computer technology in the production of print media required a new way of organizing practice and spawned a series of “how to” style books. A similar response has occurred in the early 21st century with the spread of digital tools, technologies, and practices in archaeology, and, as a result, digital workflow has come to occupy a distinct place within archaeological methodology.
Today, I’d like to think a bit about workflow in the context of digital archaeology with special attention to archaeological publishing. The paper has two impetus. One is a passage from an article by Michael Given in which he applies Ivan Illich’s idea of conviviality to an understanding of the premodern agricultural landscape of Cyprus. Toward the end of the article, he suggested that a convivial approach between archaeological specialists from soil scientists to ceramicists, bioarchaeologists, architectural historians, and field archaeologists would produce a deeper understanding of the convivial landscape in which premodern Cypriots lived. My first reading of that passages was relatively uncharitable. To my mind, Illich’s notion of conviviality was anti-modern and attempting to reconcile this idea with the assembly line practice of archaeological work and specialization seemed as doomed to fail as the plantation style sugar works established by the Venetian colonizers on Cyprus’s south coast. If convivial relationships mapped the seamless sociability of premodern production, specialization and workflows created Frankenstein creatures which have the superficial appearance of reality, but are, in fact, mottled monsters of recombined fragments.
At the same time that I was thinking about Illich and Given, I read Anna Tsing’s work, The Mushroom at the End of the World and Deborah Cowen’s work on logistics, The Deadly Life of Logistics. Both books, in their own ways, describe the fluid of movement of people, things, and capital around the world. They explore the tension between the local and the global, places and movement, and the dividual and the individual. While Cowen’s work is, as the title suggests, practical and pessimistic in tone, Tsing’s work offers the rhizomic world of the matsutake mushroom holding for the “possibilities of life in capitalist ruins.” My paper today will swing back and forth between these two poles and offer both an angst-filled critique of archaeological practice and then some more optimistic reflections on why maybe Michael Given was right (and maybe I knew that all along) and convivial social practices in archaeology are possible, even in our digital age.
The Digital Press – and digital publishing practices in archaeology (and I’d propose in academia more broadly) – offers at least one way to think about the tension between the fragmenting of digital archaeological data and social practices at the core of knowledge making. The collaborative environment made possible by digital technology is not grounded simply in the relatively ease of using mainstream professional design tools, but in the transformation of archaeological workflow. Following the fragments of digital knowledge along the rhizomic streams connecting field practices to final publications disrupts some of the traditional forms of organization that define archaeological work. The ease with which objects, human remains, and even buildings can move through digital media demonstrates, at some level, how digital workflows can transform the social and disciplinary limits on archaeological practice. At the same time, the Digital Press offers a more convivial view of the future where archaeologists can unpack the black box of publishing and create a new, digitally mediated model for the production and dissemination of archaeological knowlege.
Papyrologica Lupiensia è una pubblicazione del Dipartimento di Filologia Classica e di Scienze Filosofiche dell'Università del Salento e del Centro Interdipartimentale di Studi Papirologici. In questa rivista confluiscono i risultati delle ricerche promosse e sostenute dalla Cattedra di Papirologia e dall'insegnamento di Papirologia Ercolanese dell'Ateneo leccese.La rivista nasce nel 1991 ed ha periodicità annuale. E' consultabile online a partire dal vol. 17/2008. La versione elettronica è pubblicata dal Coordinamento SIBA dell'Università del Salento ed è accessibile all'indirizzo http://siba-ese.unisalento.it/index.php/plup.
The RSPB has reported that the crane is coming back to Britain, with a record number of new birds reported in recent years. We have similarly found many cranes hidden in the British Library’s medieval bestiaries, manuscripts full of fantastic stories about all manner of birds and beasts. A bird...
La Base d'Information Bibliographique en Patristique est un système documentaire spécialisé en patristique. Même si la littérature patristique est son principal objet, la BIBP couvre l'ensemble des disciplines étudiant le christianisme patristique. La priorité est désormais donnée à l'information courante des revues scientifiques.
Le présent site permet d'utiliser les services bibliographiques de la BIBP. Plus de 64 000 notices, issues de plus de 1 750 périodiques, peuvent actuellement être interrogées. L'interrogation en français permet d'accéder à l’information dans toutes les langues de publication. Chacune des langues peut cependant être interrogée directement. Les techniques d’indexation utilisées permettront éventuellement une interrogation universelle dans les principales langues d’indexation. Pour de plus amples renseignements, communiquez avec firstname.lastname@example.org (Laboratoire BIBP, Faculté de théologie et de sciences religieuses, Université Laval. Québec. Qc. Canada. G1V 0A6). La réalisation de la BIBP implique une normalisation technique de la nomenclature patristique. Les principaux index de la BIBP sont disponibles en version PDF :
Les services de la BIBP sont gratuits. Toute collaboration est bienvenue. Une invitation particulière est faite aux auteurs pour l'analyse de leurs propres publications. Contactez le professeur René-Michel Roberge à l'adresse ci-haut mentionnée.
Mapping Mesopotamian Monuments presents a topographical survey of the standing historical monuments and architecture in the region from Iraqi Kurdistan and Southeastern Anatolia (Turkey), to Southern Iraq. A work in progress, this monument survey covers all historical periods from ancient to modern. It includes ancient Mesopotamian rock reliefs carved into the cliff faces of the mountains, early Christian churches and monasteries, early Islamic, Ottoman and twentieth century architecture and monuments. This database of images invites you to explore the multiple layers of the rich historical landscape of Mesopotamia. Envisioned and directed by Professor Zainab Bahrani, the basis of the survey is an on-going field project that assesses the condition of monuments, maps their locations and records them with digital techniques in order to provide a record and to facilitate future preservation work across this region.
Kouremenos’s article looks at how museums, in particular, depict the Romaiokratia or the Roman period in Greece and suggests that not only does this run counter to prevailing scholt early attitudes toward the Roman period in the East (and Greece), but it reflects an approach deeply rooted in the Greek national narrative that understands it as yet another imposed discontinuity between the modern and the Classical era. James’s article is more technical and presents the results of her excavations in 2015 beneath a Roman period mosaic floor at the South Stoa at Corinth. These excavations produce more evidence for the dating of the South Stoa as well as the phases of activity in this area more broadly.
The issue of continuity and discontinuity remains a topic of fascination for archaeologists and historians alike. The notion that the Roman period, in some way, marks a break in continuity in Greek history has deep roots in both national narratives of Greek history as well as archaeological narratives that sought to distinguish the Greek from the Roman and inscribe value judgements on the two periods.
Kouremenos’s article demonstrates how this discontinuity has shaped national narratives (and vice versa) where continuity with a pre-national past serves to define the character and potential of the national community. James’s article offers a more detailed and site specific approach. She notes that the Roman period mosaic far from destroying or producing discontinuity with the Greek past of the South Stoa, actually preserved Greek levels beneath it. At the same time, the construction of the South Stoa and the careful layering of floor packing and subfloor preserved evidence for earlier, pre-South Stoa, activity at the site. More than that, James suggested an alternate explanation for what appeared to have been evidence for the burning of the South Stoa during the Roman sack of the city in 146. The blackened roof tiles might have been caused by their proximity to iron nails and water in post-depositional contexts rather than the destructive fire caused by the Romans.
To be clear, the goal of James’s article was not to argue for continuity or discontinuity on a grand scale but to provide a nuanced analysis of the history of a well-known building using new evidence. At the same time, her work offers a compelling way to think about the interplay between archaeological evidence and historical arguments. The persistence of aspects of the Greek phases of the stoa into the Roman period and the interplay between the Roman mosaic floor’s preservation and the earlier levels beneath are reminiscent of Shannon Lee Dawdy’s interpretation of the relationship between the destroyed and buried “House of the Rising Sun” hotel in New Orleans and a later parking lot. The sinking and relatively uncompacted levels of the destroyed 19th century hotel caused drainage and subsidence problems with the 20th century parking lot. The parking lot and its infamous predecessor might appear offer a model of discontinuity in site function and significance, but the former continued to exert its influence over the latter. In the same way, the interplay between the Roman mosaic floor and earlier construction phases in the South Stoa effectively made the Greek period visible and made possible arguments for continuity between the Greek present and pre-Roman periods. In other words, the Roman past whatever discontinuity it provides narrative of Greek identity plays a key role in this case in allowing those arguments to occur.
Assemblages, broadly construed, do strange things with time. They make both discontinuity and continuity visible and possible. While we tend to define assemblages in archaeology according to depositional context, it is clear at sites like the South Stoa that the sequence and character of deposition is deeply embedded within earlier and later activities at the site. The residual character of earlier period material in the South Stoa assemblages and the role of later periods including the early 20th-century valuation of a Roman mosaic produced conditions in which arguments for time are possible. Whatever distain exists for the Roman period material in the popular Greek imagination, this material often preserves traces of earlier periods. The chronological continuity of archaeological and depositional time (exemplified by the clunky utility of the Harris Matrix) complicates and provides a foundation for cultural arguments for discontinuity.
NeHeT est une revue éditée conjointement par le Centre de Recherches Égyptologiques de la Sorbonne (Université Paris-Sorbonne – Paris IV ; équipe « Mondes Pharaoniques » de l’UMR 8167 Orient & Méditerranée) et le Centre de Recherches en Archéologie et Patrimoine de l’Université libre de Bruxelles. Elle est destinée à un lectorat constitué de chercheurs et d’érudits s’intéressant à l’histoire de l’Égypte et du Soudan, de la préhistoire à l’époque byzantine. Son format numérique, en libre accès, a été choisi afin de permettre une diffusion large et rapide des travaux égyptologiques.
La revue a deux livraisons annuelles qui peuvent être soit des recueils d’articles sur des sujets variés, soit des numéros thématiques - publications d’actes de colloques, de journées d’études ou dossiers portant sur une problématique prédéfinie.
Les éditeurs de la revue L. Bavay, N. Favry, Cl. Somaglino et P. Tallet
This is our electronic journal which reports the results of our excavations. Some reports concern our community work (Lod and Givat Sher), other reports deal with our research projects (Tel Dan, Tel Arad) and most reports deal with salvage work. The salvage excavations can also be found by site in the contract archaeology section and research excavations and community digs under the excavations tab.
NGSBA Archaeology is our platform for presenting the results of our fieldwork. The contents consist mainly of reports on salvage archaeology projects conducted by Y.G. Archaeology under NGSBA oversight. But from time to time reports of our community archaeology and research projects will also be published. We will also accept field reports of projects executed by other organizations. The journal is peer reviewed, edited by David Ilan, the director of the NGSBA, and is overseen by a board of editors. It will appear more or less annually—depending on the quantity of material available for publication—in print and digital form. The digital version can be downloaded from our website for free.
ΗΨηφιακή Βιβλιοθήκηπροσφέρει ένα πανόραμα της Αρχαίας Ελληνικής Γραμματείας από την αρχαϊκή εποχή έως και τα ύστερα ελληνορωμαϊκά χρόνια. Περιλαμβάνει αντιπροσωπευτικά έργα από όλα τα γένη και είδη του αρχαίου ελληνικού λόγου τόσο στο πρωτότυπο όσο και σε δόκιμες νεοελληνικές μεταφράσεις. Επίσης, παρέχει τη δυνατότητα αναζήτησης λέξεων είτε σε μεμονωμένα κείμενα είτε σε ομάδες κειμένων ανά συγγραφέα ή γένος-είδος λόγου είτε στο σύνολο των κειμένων που περιλαμβάνονται.
On March 8th and 9th, Michigan State University hosted a conference titled Enslaved: Peoples of the Historic Slave Trade. The conference brought together scholars using databases to research the lives of individuals connected to slavery and the slave trade. The list of presenters can be found here, and videos of the presentations can be found on the Matrix YouTube channel. Most presenters at the conference focused on the lives of enslaved people in the Americas as captured in archival sources. The two dominant geographic areas for this type of research included the United States and Brazil. Other presenters drew from archaeological methods to explore the material pasts of slavery. Oral history and biographies also featured as methodologies used to build databases. Two themes emerged early in the conference and persisted throughout the presentation sessions: First linking different types of data and second developing best practices for data collection and management.
The first theme emerged from the various data types created by scholars. Some of their projects featured dynamic websites connected to databases or content management systems. These projects tended to be organized by individual people, ship voyages, or documents with each organizing unit containing its own URL. See for example Slave Voyages, Legacies of British Slave-ownership, or Freedom on the Move. The challenge for these different data types is finding concrete evidence for links between the people, voyages, and documents stored on the different websites. Another related problem includes building links to new databases that have not been incorporated into a website. A significant number of presenters, especially the historians, built databases of enslaved persons using Excel or Google Sheets. Ideally, the entries in these databases could be matched to information already available online. The Enslaved Hub currently being developed by Matrix seeks to do just this.
The second theme of best practices relates to the first. Theoretically, the development of best practices would facilitate linking the databases created by different scholars. The best practices would guide researchers through the process of creating a database and making its information available to the Enslaved Hub. One of the key components includes organizing the database from its inception to include clearly defined fields with one type of value per field. This may include discrete numbers, controlled vocabularies, or text fields. Another component entails managing the data throughout the course of the project so new entries can be added and new fields, if necessary, can be created in a logical manner. Lastly, each database should include metadata that describes the project, the data collection practices, and the fields and values in the database. Few of the presenters discussed the importance of metadata or the decisions made during the data collection process.
The Getty magazine tells the stories of the world's largest cultural and philanthropic organization dedicated to the visual arts. Articles on the Getty's four programs—the Getty Conservation Institute, the Getty Foundation, the J. Paul Getty Museum, and the Getty Research Institute—offer readers a more complete picture of the work we do in Los Angeles and around the world. This magazine is published quarterly.
Users may not: modify, obscure, or remove any copyright notice or other attribution included in the content; incorporate the content into an unrestricted database or website; systematically print out or download the content to stock or replace print holdings; reproduce or distribute the content, without prior permission from the publisher and other applicable rights holders.
Rights-Access Restrictions: The material uploaded in this platform may not be used for commercial purposes or gains. For purposes of clarification, “commercial purposes or gains” shall not include research whose end-use is commercial in nature. It can be used for: research activities; classroom or organizational instruction and related classroom or organizational activities; student assignments; as part of a scholarly, cultural, educational or organizational presentation or workshop, if such use conforms to the customary and usual practice in the field.
COPYING OR REDISTRIBUTION IN ANY MANNER FOR COMMERCIAL USE, INCLUDING COMMERCIAL PUBLICATION, OR FOR PERSONAL GAIN IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED.
The Votives Project is a network of people from different backgrounds who study, create or use votive offerings or other related ways of communicating with the divine. It aims to facilitate dialogue between academic disciplines, and between academics and religious ‘practitioners’, and in doing so to develop rich cross-cultural and multi-period understandings of votive material and contexts.
If you would like to join the Project and/or contribute an article to our blog, please don’t hesitate to contact us by writing to us at the addresses on our Open University webpages (links via our names below). You can also share your photos and ideas on our new Facebook page.
Welcome to Abydos Archaeology: The online journal of the North Abydos Expedition, an archaeological project sponsored jointly by the Institute of Fine Arts, New York University and Princeton University. We tell the story of Abydos, Egypt and its 5,000-year history through archaeological excavation, heritage preservation, archaeological survey, collections management, object conservation, outreach, and publication. We post stories from the field, and the people and communities behind the archaeology, as well as objects from Abydos, both in situ and in museum collections around the world, and images from our archives, covering a half-century of archaeological fieldwork in Egypt. Expedition co-directors, Dr. Matthew Douglas Adams (NYU) and Prof. Deborah Vischak (Princeton), and all of us on the North Abydos Expedition team invite you to browse our gallery of fieldwork, team bios, blog, and Instagram gallery — and to follow, bookmark, like, share, and ENJOY the archaeology of Abydos with us!
It may be that we’ve enjoyed the final blizzard of the season here in North Dakotaland and it was mild enough in our neighborhood that I could go for my first outdoor run of the year yesterday afternoon.
This weekend looks mild as well and a good time to catch up on some grading, the first Formula 1 race of the weekend, and the part of the NBA season that starts to matter. There is some college basketball too (just not for my mighty Spiders).
If you’re looking for something to occupy your free moments, here are some quick hits and varia:
Founded in 1948, the Institute of Byzantine Studies is the only scientific centre in Serbia pursuing research in Byzantine studies. Until now, it has published 37 volumes of the periodical Zbornik radova Vizantološkog instituta (ZRVI). The majority of published articles covering following topics: History of Byzantium and Byzantine-South-Slavic Relations, Byzantine Sources for the History of Yugoslav Peoples, Byzantine Literature and the Medieval Greek Language, Byzantine and post-Byzantine Art.
I wrote this today; it’s not very good, but it is what it is. I’m blaming the bomb cyclone.
Historically archaeologists have modeled their work on industrial practices with authority typically following a clear hierarchy. In an overly simplified form, archaeological responsibilities and tasks define the roles of project directors, field directors, trench or team leaders, and diggers. This division of labor is designed, at least on one level, to facilitate efficient archaeological work and to produce specialized and precise data. This form of organization allowed for control over a project’s outcomes and the knowledge making process. The formal definition of the site and the recognition that archaeological work involved embodied knowledge reinforced the spatiality of archaeological knowledge making. The long-standing concern for provenience, for example, and the location of the physical archives of a site in a dig house or storeroom near the site’s location further reinforce the connection between space and archaeological work. The connection between the hierarchy of archaeological knowledge making and the spatiality of archaeological place evokes the factory floor (or the prison) and the processes of enclosure that defined regimes of control of the modern ara.
Of course, this conceptualization of archaeological work has seen compelling challenges over the past 30 years. Shanks and McGuire argued that archaeology should return to its roots in craft practices as a way to challenge the industrial modes of archaeological knowledge making. McGuire’s radical efforts to create more a egalitarian and democratized archaeological project demonstrated the potential of such an approach in practice. A few radical projects in the U.K. have likewise sought to introduce democratic processes to field work (the Sedgeford Historical and Archaeological Research Project (Faulkner 2000, 2009) cited by Morgan and Eddisford 2018). While these projects remain outliers, they demonstrate that the social organization of archaeological practice remains a topic of discussion and, to a lesser extent, experimentation for archaeologists. At the same time, Mary Leighton adopted an STS approach to understanding field work and argued that a certain amount of “black boxing” in archaeological practice masks a diversity of practices that are both more and less hierarchical than the formally reported results might suggest. Morgan and Eddisford (2018) have suggested that single context recording represents a far more decentralized and even anarchic method for producing archaeological knowledge.
The critical attention that field practices (including methods, but also more mundane procedures and unspoken conventions) has shaped how scholars have approached the growing use of digital tools in archaeological knowledge making and their practical, disciplinary, and ideological significance of these changes. My interest in workflow and the rise of logistics in archaeological knowlege making traces a scholarly trajectory that understands the movement, use, and reuse of data in a digital medium as a key element to transforming the institutional landscape of archaeology. The ability to disseminate data from the field, for example, and to repurpose that data for online publication through platforms like OpenContext demonstrates how the fluidity of the contemporary workflow is already challenging the barriers between fieldwork and publishing.
In 2014, a colleague and I founded the Digital Press at the University of North Dakota. The goal of this project involved leverage digital tools enter into the world of academic publishing and to experiment with the potential for these digital tools to challenge the structure of the publishing process. Our current publishing model is extremely fluid, but follows certain relatively consistent conventions. First, we use digital tools to produce and distribute our books at a low cost using print-on-demand printing for paper books and PDF downloads on a low cost website running WordPress. Second, We publish mainly under various open access licenses. Finally, we collaborate closely with authors on all aspects of a publishing process.
The project Annotated Turki Manuscripts from the Jarring Collection Online is an effort to provide better access for the public to materials in the Central Asian manuscripts collected by a number of Swedish scholars and donated by Prof. (and Ambassador) Gunnar Jarring to the Lund University Library in Sweden. The project is directed by Prof. Arienne M. Dwyer and Dr. C. M. Sperberg-McQueen.
We focus on non-translated manuscripts written in the the late Chaghatay language of the southern Tarim Basin, in what is today Xinjiang. In partnership with Lund University Library, our aim is to scan many more manuscripts than are currently available; to transcribe a large portion of these, and to provide additional linguistic annotation and translations for select manuscripts. The project also aims to create a digital edition of one manuscript.
The project began in early 2015; in the course of the project period (2015-2018) we scanned selected manuscripts, then made and will continue to make transcriptions of selected scans, and linguistic annotation of select transcriptions available on this site.
The project has been funded in part by the Henry Luce Foundation.
URL: https://uyghur.ittc.ku.edu/. Special thanks to Robin Dougherty.
This article represents the next step in our ongoing effort to understand the online human remains trade, how, why and where it exists on social media. It expands upon initial research to explore the 'rhetoric' and structure behind the use and manipulation of images and text by this collecting community, topics explored using Google Inception v.3, TensorFlow, etc. (Huffer and Graham 2017; 2018). This current research goes beyond that work to address the ethical and moral dilemmas that can confound the use of new technology to classify and sort thousands of images. The categories used to 'train' the machine are self-determined by the researchers, but to what extent can current image classifying methods be broken to create false positives or false negatives when attempting to classify images taken from social media sales records as either old authentic items or recent forgeries made using remains sourced from unknown locations? What potential do they have to be exploited by dealers or forgers as a way to 'authenticate the market'? Analysing the data obtained when 'scraping' image or text relevant to cultural property trafficking of any kind involves the use of machine learning and neural network analysis, the ethics of which are themselves complicated. Here, we discuss these issues around two case studies; the ongoing repatriation case of Abraham Ulrikab, and an example of what it looks like when the classifier is deliberately broken.
Standing at the heart of Karnak Temple, the Great Hypostyle Hall is a forest of 134 giant sandstone columns enclosed by massive walls. Sety I built the Great Hypostyle Hall ca. 1300 BCE and decorated the northern wing with exquisite bas reliefs. After his death, his successor Ramesses II completed the southern wing mostly in sunk relief. This volume provides full translation, epigraphic analysis, and photographic documentation of the elaborate wall reliefs inside the Hall. This vast trove of ritual art and texts attest to the richness and vitality of Egyptian civilization at the height of its imperial power. The present volume builds upon and serves as a companion to an earlier volume of drawings of the wall scenes made by Harold H. Nelson in the 1950s and edited for publication by William J. Murnane in 1981.
Table of Contents, part 2 (translation and commentary)
List of Symbols and Abbreviations
List of Plans
1.Constructing and Decorating the Great Hypostyle Hall
2.The Character and Chronology of the Relief Decoration of Sety I and Ramesses II in the Great Hypostyle Hall
3.General Characteristics of Nelson’s Drawings
4.Translation and Commentary
West Wall, Gateway (Plates 1–4, 41 left, 131–34, 262)
West Wall, South Wing (Plates 5–41)
South Wall (Plates 42–87)
South Wall, West Wing (Plates 42–53)
South Wall, Gateway (Plates 54–61, 87)
South Wall, East Wing (Plates 62–79, 80–86)
East Wall, South Wing (Plates 88–109, 130)
West Wall, North Wing (Plates 135–70)
North Wall (Plates 171–201)
North Wall, West Wing (Plates 171–81)
North Wall, East Wing (Plates 188–201)
North Wall, Gateway (Plates 182–87)
East Wall, North Wing (Plates 202–32)
Vestibule of the Third Pylon (Plates 110–30 + 261, 233–57 + 265)
Eastern Vestibule, North Wing (Plates 233–57, 265)
Eastern Vestibule, South Wing (Plates 110–30, 261)
Appendix A: Color on the Hieroglyphs
Appendix B: Cartouches and Horus Names
Appendix C: Protection Formulae
Table of Contents, part 3 (figures and plates)
List of Figures
List of Plates
Oriental Institute Publications 142
Chicago: The Oriental Institute, 2019
Part 2: pp. xvi + 432; Part 3: pp. xxiv + 328
373 figures (some in color); 265 plates; 15 plans
Hardback, 9” x 11.75”
$99.95 (includes both part 2 [translation and commentary] and part 3 [figures and plates])
For an up to date list of all Oriental Institute publications available online see:
A recent study, “Research data: To keep or not to keep?”, by Neil Beagrie (Charles Beagrie Ltd) aims to assist researchers in determining whether or not data collected should be retained. According to the study, reproducibility and research integrity and the potential for reuse of data for research are the primary factors in determining to keep data, though other more general principles are also mentioned.
Commissioned by Jisc, Beagrie interviewed 28 individuals in order to provide insight on assessing the value of the data and illustrate how these assessments can work in a practical setting across disciplines, but especially in the arts and humanities. In a world where copious amounts of data are constantly collected, insight about how to evaluate all of the information gathered can be quite useful to DH practitioners when supporting researchers who may not view their stuff as “data.” For instance, Simon McVeigh from the Practice Research Advisory Group points out the need for code-switching in meaningful ways when talking about data and shifting disciplinary norms, in order to raise awareness of preserving research data.
Submissions are currently being accepted to participate in the workshop, “Materia on the Move: Trade & Colonisation of Collections – Digital Studies in Provenance,” which will take place in conjunction with the 2019 Digital Humanities Conference, to be held July 9-12 in Utrecht, The Netherlands.
This workshop aims to bring together researchers from various humanities disciplines, such as history, ethnography and archaeology, with the established guardians of collections, namely researchers in archival, library, museum studies and information science professionals and stakeholders to present and discuss approaches in tracing and documenting provenance, be it geographical or cultural and ideological.
Collections of cultural heritage data, such as art collections or digitized manuscripts, that focus on areas of interest, including using linked data for data integration, historical information modeling, and working with geographical information and historical location resolution, will be ideal for this workshop.
Long papers of up to 8 pages presenting on a completed project, and short papers/demos of up to 6 pages focusing on a work in progress, will be considered. The deadline for submissions is May 5.
Reporting to the Director of the Data Curation Program, the Humanities Data Curator is responsible for the planning and implementation of scholarly initiatives in support of data-intensive research and digital scholarship in the humanities on campus with the goal of ensuring the high functionality, discoverability, and preservability of digital research data throughout its lifecycle. As part of a growing team of data curators, the candidate will make substantial contributions to his/her primary area of responsibility as well as collaborate with other team members in addressing curation of data from other disciplines.
The individual will provide vision and leadership in directing and managing the College’s Special Collections and Digital Initiatives unit to provide Rhode Island College members and the community access to locally produced content and the College’s unique collections. Processes primary source materials including rare books, manuscripts, college archives, and photographs that require specialized storage and services. Stewards locally produced content, including media, student projects, and faculty publications. Oversees the digital initiatives unit in digital preservation planning to ensure long-term accessibility of digital assets. Promotes undergraduate and graduate research using primary materials. Provides instruction on using archival material in scholarship.
Reporting to the Coordinator of Reference, Instruction, and Academic Engagement, the Data Literacy Librarian will play a key role in developing programmatic support of numerical and geospatial data services, including facilitating access to data resources and providing research and instruction support to faculty and students in their use across the curriculum. The position will also serve as a liaison to one or more academic departments.
How better to celebrate St Patrick’s Day than to announce the digitisation of two important Irish manuscripts from the British Library's collections? Harley MS 1023 and Harley MS 1802 were both made in the 12th century in Armagh, St Patrick’s foundation and medieval cult centre. Here are 5 reasons why...
CNT - APPs, partner di AIES, organizza a Matera, nei giorni 4 e 5 aprile 2019, il Seminario Tecnico Scientifico “TECNOLOGIE PER IL RECUPERO DEL COSTRUITO. Umidità nelle costruzioni: diagnosi e metodi di intervento. Dal Taglio Meccanico alla Tecnica a Neutralizzazione di Carica”.
Giunto alla sesta edizione, “Technology for All 2019” si svolgerà a Roma dal 18 al 20 ottobre prossimi in una nuova e prestigiosa location che sarà a breve annunciata. Integrato con altre manifestazioni e associazioni scientifiche del settore, offrirà sempre momenti informativi e formativi di alto livello, oltre ad occasioni di confronto e di business tra le Pubbliche Amministrazioni, la Ricerca e le Aziende specializzate.
In Belgium, Egyptology emerged later than elsewhere in Europe, but once under steam, it went through a rapid growth in the course of the first half of the 20th century. In the 1930s Brussels was occasionally even referred to as ‘the capital of Egyptology’. Pyramids and Progress investigates how this remarkable development unfolded within the context of Belgian industrial and political expansionism towards Egypt, a process that started in the 19th century, almost from the very moment that the Belgian state was created in 1830. At that time, Belgium in all regards aspired to become a player on a global scale. This aspiration not only concerned Congo, which was to become a genuine colony, but areas around the globe. Egypt, with its strategic location in Africa and its fascinating ancient monuments, played a key role.
But what motivated this Belgian interest in Egypt? How did Belgian royalty, politicians, diplomats, industrialists, and intellectuals operate within the expansionist doctrine? And how did the scientific discipline of Egyptology develop in Belgium within this expansionist framework? The personal, institutional, and commercial networks of the different players are investigated, and the question is asked how this led to a climate in which famous Egyptologists like Jean Capart proved able to give their discipline the prominent position it finally acquired in Belgium.
When Roy Rosenzweig and I wrote Digital History 15 years ago, we spent a lot of time thinking about the overall tone and approach of the book. It seemed to us that there were, on the one hand, a lot of our colleagues in professional history who were adamantly opposed to the use of digital media and technology, and, on the other hand, a rapidly growing number of people outside the academy who were extremely enthusiastic about the application of computers and computer networks to every aspect of society.
For the lack of better words—we struggled to avoid loaded ones like “Luddites”—we called these two diametrically opposed groups the “technoskeptics” and the “cyberenthusiasts” in our introduction, “The Promises and Perils of Digital History“:
Step back in time and open the pages of the inaugural issue of Wired magazine from the spring of 1993, and prophecies of an optimistic digital future call out to you. Management consultant Lewis J. Perleman confidently proclaims an “inevitable” “hyperlearning revolution” that will displace the thousand-year-old “technology” of the classroom, which has “as much utility in today’s modern economy of advanced information technology as the Conestoga wagon or the blacksmith shop.” John Browning, a friend of the magazine’s founders and later the Executive Editor of Wired UK, rhapsodizes about how “books once hoarded in subterranean stacks will be scanned into computers and made available to anyone, anywhere, almost instantly, over high-speed networks.” Not to be outdone by his authors, Wired publisher Louis Rossetto links the digital revolution to “social changes so profound that their only parallel is probably the discovery of fire.”
Although the Wired prophets could not contain their enthusiasm, the technoskeptics fretted about a very different future. Debating Wired Executive Editor Kevin Kelly in the May 1994 issue of Harper’s, literary critic Sven Birkerts implored readers to “refuse” the lure of “the electronic hive.” The new media, he warned, pose a dire threat to the search for “wisdom” and “depth”—“the struggle for which has for millennia been central to the very idea of culture.”
Reading passionate polemics such as these, Roy and I decided that it would be the animating theme of Digital History to find a sensible middle position between these two poles. Part of this approach was pragmatic—we wanted to understand how history could, and likely would, be created and disseminated given all of this new digital technology—but part of it was also temperamental and even a little personal for the two of us: we both loved history, including its very analog and tactile aspects of working with archives and printed works, but we were also both avid computer hobbyists and felt that the digital world could do some uncanny, unparalleled things. So we sought a profoundly humanistic, but also technologically sophisticated, position on which to base the pursuit of knowledge.
* * *
Robin Sloan is a novelist who has published two books, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore and Sourdough, that are very much about this intersection between the humanistic and the technological. Beyond his very successful work as an author, he has had a career at new media companies that are often associated with cyberenthusiasm, including Twitter and Current TV, and he has also spent considerable time engaging in crafts often associated with technoskepticism, including the production of artisanal olive oil, old-school printing, and 80s-era music-making. In this larger context of his vocations and avocations, his novels seem like an attempt to find that very same, if elusive, via media between the incredible power and potential of modern technology and the humanizing warmth of our prior, analog world.
Unlike some other contemporary novelists and nonfiction writers who work in the often tense borderlands between the present and future, Sloan neither can bring himself to buy fully into the utopian dreams of Silicon Valley—although he’s clearly tickled and even wowed by the way it constantly produces unusual, boundless new tech—nor can he simply conclude that we should throw away our smartphones and move off the grid. Although he clearly loves the peculiar, inventive shapes and functions of older technology, he doesn’t badger us with a cynical jeremiad to return to some imagined purity inherent in, say, vinyl records, nor will he overdo it with an uncritical ode to our augmented-reality, gene-edited future.
Instead, his helpful approach is to put the old and new into lively conversation with each other. In his first novel, Mr. Penumbra’s 24-Hour Bookstore, Sloan set the magic of an old bookstore in conversation with the full power of Google’s server farm. In his latest novel, Sourdough, he set the organic craft of the farmer’s market and the culinary artisanry of Chez Panisse in conversation with biohacked CRISPRed food and the automation of assembly robots.
But this was in the published version of the novel. In a revealing abandoned first draft of Sourdough that Sloan made available (as a Risograph printing, of course) to those who subscribe to his newsletter, he started the novel rather differently. In the introduction to this discarded draft, titled Treasured Subscribers, Sloan briefly notes that “these were not the right characters doing the right things.” I think he’s absolutely right about that, but it’s worth unpacking exactly why, because in doing so we can understand a bit better how Sloan pursues that elusive via media, and how in turn we might discover and promote humane technology in a rapidly changing world.
[Spoiler alert: If you haven’t read Sourdough yet, I’ve kept the plot twists mostly hidden, but as you’ll see, the following contains one critical character revelation. Please stop what you’re doing, read the book, and return here.]
Treasured Subscribers begins with a similar overarching narrative concept as Sourdough: a capable, intelligent young woman moves to the Bay Area and becomes part of a mysterious underground organization that focuses on artisanal food, and that is orchestrated by a charismatic leader. Mina Fisher, a writer, lands a new marketing job at Intrepid Cellars, led by one Wolfram Wild, who refuses to carry a smartphone or use a laptop. Wild barks text and directions for his newsletter on craft food and wine offerings over what we can only assume is an aging Motorola flip phone as he travels to far-flung fields and vineyards. In short, Wild appears to be a kind of gastronomic J. Peterman, globetrotting for foodie finds. The only hint of future tech in Treasured Subscribers is a quick mention of “Chernobyl honey,” although it’s framed as just another oddball discovery rather than—as Sourdough makes much more plain—an intriguing exercise in modding traditional food through science-fiction-y means. Wild seems too busy tracking down a cider mentioned by Flaubert to think about, or articulate, the significance of irradiated apiaries.
By itself, this seems like not such a bad setup for a novel, but the problem here is that if one wishes to explore, maximally, the intersection and possibilities of human craft and high tech, one can’t have a flattened figure like Wolfram Wild, who sticks with Windows 95 on an aging PC tower. (Given the implicit nod to Stephen Wolfram in Wild’s name, I wonder if Sloan planned to eventually reveal other computational layers to the character, but it’s not there in the first chapter.) In order for Sloan’s fiction to consider the tension between technoskepticism and cyberenthusiasm, and to find some potential resolution that is both excitingly technological and reassuringly human, he can’t have straw men at either pole. Had Sloan continued with Treasured Subscribers, it would have been all too easy for the reader to dismiss Wild, cheer for Mina, and resolve any artisanal/digital divide in favor of an app for aged Bordeaux. To generate some real debate in the reader’s mind, you need more multidimensional, sophisticated characters who can speak cogently and passionately about the advantages of technology, while also being cognizant of the impact of that technology on society. A clamshell cellphone-brandishing foodie J. Peterman won’t do.
Sloan solved this problem in multiple ways in the production version of Sourdough. In the published novel, the protagonist is the young Lois Clary, a software developer who gets a job automating robot arms at General Dexterity, and learns baking at night from two lively undocumented immigrants and their equally animated starter dough. General Dexterity is led by a charismatic tech leader, Andrei, who can articulate the remarkable features of robotic hands and their potential role in work. Also hanging out at the unabashed cyberenthusiast pole, ready for conversation and debate, is the founder and CEO of Slurry Systems, the maker of artificial, nutritious, and disgusting foods of the future, Dr. Klamath. And Clary ends up working at—yes, here it returns from Treasured Subscribers, but in a different form—an underground craft food market, which is chockablock with artisanal cheeses and beverages made by off-duty scientists and a librarian who maintains a San Francisco version of the New York Public Library’s menu collection. Tech and craft are in rich, helpful collision.
The most important character, however, for our purposes here, is the delightfully named Charlotte Clingstone, who is the head of the legendary Café Candide, and the stand-in for Alice Waters of Chez Panisse fame. Chez Panisse, in Berkeley, pioneered the locavore craft food movement, and normally a fictional Waters would be a novel’s unrelenting resident technoskeptic. But in a key twist, it turns out at the end of Sourdough that Clingstone also underwrites futuristic high-tech foodie endeavors—including that “Chernobyl honey” that is a carryover from Treasured Subscribers. Clingstone both defends the craft of the farm-to-table kitchen while seeing it as important to explore the next phase of food through robotics, radiation, and RNA.
As Sourdough develops with these characters, it can thus ask in a deeper way than Treasured Subscribers whether and how we can fuse tech know-how with humanistic values; whether it’s possible to exist in a world in which a robotic hand kneads dough but the process also involves an organic, magical yeast and well-paid workers; whether that starter dough should be gene sequenced to produce artificial, nutritious, and delicious food at scale; and how craft-worthy human labor and creativity can exist in the algorithmic, technological society that is quickly approaching. The only way to find out is to experiment with the technical and digital while keeping one’s heart in the mode of more traditional human pursuits. Sloan’s protagonist, Lois, thus follows an emotional arc between developing code and developing bread.
* * *
I suppose we shouldn’t make that much of an abandoned first draft of a novel (he says 1,000 words into an exploratory blog post), but reading Treasured Subscribers has made me think again about the right middle way between technoskepticism and cyberenthusiasm that we tried to find in Digital History. Certainly the skepticism side has been on the sharp ascent as Silicon Valley has continually been tone-deaf and inhumane in important areas like privacy. Certainly we need a good healthy dose of that criticism, which is valid. But at the end of the day, when it’s time to put down the newspaper and pick up the novel, Robin Sloan holds out hope for some forms of sophisticated technology that are attuned to and serve humanistic ends. We need a bit of that hope, too.
Robin Sloan is willing to give both the artisanal and the technical their own proper limelight and honest appraisal. Indeed, much of what makes his writing both fun and thoughtful is that rather than toning down cyberenthusiasm and technoskepticism to find a sensible middle, he instead uses fiction to turn them up to 11 and toward each other, to see what new harmonious sounds, if any, emerge from the cacophony. Sloan looks for the white light from the overlapping bright colors of the analog and digital worlds. Like the synthesizers he also loves—robotic computer loops intertwined with the soul of music—he seeks the fusion of the radically technological and the profoundly human.
Recently declassified photographs taken by U2 spy planes in the 1950s and 1960s provide an important new source of historical aerial imagery useful for Eurasian archaeology. Like other sources of historical imagery, U2 photos provide a window into the past, before modern agriculture and development destroyed many archaeological sites. U2 imagery is older and in many cases higher resolution than CORONA spy satellite imagery, the other major source of historical imagery for Eurasia, and thus can expand the range of archaeological sites and features that can be studied from an aerial perspective. However, there are significant barriers to finding and retrieving U2 imagery of particular locales, and archaeologists have thus not yet widely used it. In this article, we aim to reduce these barriers by describing the U2 photo dataset and how to access it. We also provide the first spatial index of U2 photos for the Middle East. A brief discussion of archaeological case studies drawn from U2 imagery illustrates its merits and limitations. These case studies include investigations of prehistoric mass-kill hunting traps in eastern Jordan, irrigation systems of the first millennium BC Neo-Assyrian Empire in northern Iraq, and twentieth-century marsh communities in southern Iraq.
Las fotografías tomadas por aviones espía U-2 durante los años 50 y 60, recientemente desclasificadas, son una nueva fuente de imágenes aéreas muy útil para la arqueología euroasiática. Tal como otras fuentes de imágenes históricas, las fotografías de los U-2 son una ventana hacia un pasado antes de la destrucción de muchos sitios arqueológicos a manos de la agricultura y el desarrollo modernos. Las imágenes de los U-2 preceden aquellas tomadas por los satélites espía CORONA, la otra fuente principal de imágenes históricas de Eurasia, y en muchos casos son de más alta resolución. Por lo mismo, expanden el rango de sitios y rasgos arqueológicos que se pueden estudiar desde una perspectiva aérea. Sin embargo, existen obstáculos significativos para conseguir y acceder a imágenes de localidades particulares, y por lo tanto los arqueólogos todavía no acostumbran a valerse de ellas. En este artículo tenemos como meta disminuir estos obstáculos a través de una descripción del conjunto de imágenes de los U-2 y de un método para acceder a ellas. También proveemos el primer índice espacial de fotografías de los U-2 del Medio Oriente. Una breve discusión de casos prácticos usando estas imágenes demuestra sus ventajas y limitaciones. Estos casos incluyen investigaciones de trampas de caza prehistóricas en el este de Jordania, sistemas de irrigación del imperio Neo-asirio del primer milenio a.C. en el norte de Irak y de comunidades del siglo XX que habitaban en los humedales del sur de Irak.
Il proposito di queste pagine è quello di facilitare per quanto possibile lo studio e la conoscenza delle lingue e delle letterature dell'antichità classica. L'utilizzo delle tecnologie messe a disposizione dal web e più in generale dagli strumenti informatici e multimediali potrà risultare utile a chi intenda approfondire lo studio dell'antichità greco-romana in ambito scolastico o per puro interesse culturale.
Nello studio della lingua greca e latina le numerose pagine interattive potranno consentire sia una più agevole visualizzazione dei contenuti che una valutazione del proprio livello di apprendimento.
Una particolare attenzione, almeno nei propositi, è dedicata alla poesia greca e latina ed alla metrica, che della poesia classica costituisce il mezzo espressivo caratterizzante ed essenziale.
Nei limiti del possibile saranno affrontati in un'unica trattazione alcuni argomenti che coinvolgono entrambe le lingue classiche, come appunto la metrica, l'analisi logica e l'analisi del periodo, con esemplificazioni che consentiranno di evidenziare analogie e differenze mediante una visualizzazione sinottica dei vari contenuti.
Data l'ampiezza del progetto tutte le sezioni che costituiscono il sito sono da considerare attualmente in fase di costruzione e pertanto incomplete.
Ringrazio anticipatamente quanti vorranno collaborare con proposte, suggerimenti e segnalazioni di errori o problemi.
This chapter in Ronald Syme’s The Roman Revolution is brilliant. If you only ever read one chapter of this book, it should be chapter 10. Syme has already shown a kind of ambivalence toward Cicero. He supported the established order without a strong loyalty to any particular party. “No politician could compete with Cicero for versatility…” Syme paints Cicero as a tragic hero in an age that required someone greater and less flawed. It is hard to avoid the feeling that this speaks directly to our contemporary political culture where opportunities for determined actions abound, but the individuals capable of seizing the moments and making significant stand against injustice are lacking. The real context for this chapter is more chilling. Syme isn’t speaking to our generation, but to his.
Cicero sided with Pompey during the Civil War, but in a lukewarm fashion, commanding a body of troops in Campania and staying well away from the main fields of action. Syme describes Cicero’s position in typically Laconic fashion: “Cicero came close to being a neutral in the Civil War. Returning from his province of Cilicia, he made what efforts he could to avert hostilities. He showed both judgement and impartiality. It was too late. He had few illusions about Pompeius, little sympathy with his allies.”
He accepted Caesar’s clemency and remained on the sidelines after his assassination despite his claims to the contrary. As tensions between Antonius and Octavianus grew, he tried to flee to Greece, reversed course, and, to Syme, sealed his ultimate fate. His return to Rome marked the start of an overt rivalry with Antonius and suggested a warming of his relationship to Octavianus.
“The political alliance between Octavianus and Cicero was not merely the plot of a crafty and unscrupulous youth… Cicero was possessed by an overweening opinion of his own sagacity: it had ever been his hope to act as political mentor to one of the generals of the Republic.”
Syme’s description of Cicero’s plan offers some critique for our contemporary situation:
“It was Cato’s fatal plan all over again — the doom of Antonius would warn the young man [Octavianus] against aspiring to military despotism and would reveal the strength which the Commonwealth could still muster.”
He praised Octavianus — omnis habeo cognitos sensus adulescentis. nihil est illi re publica canus, nihil vestra auctontate gravius, nihil bonorum virorum iudicio optatius, nihil vera gloria dulcius. (Phil. 5.50) — but: “it may be doubted whether at any time he felt that he could trust Octavianus. Neither was the dupe.”
As tensions rose between Octavianus and Antonius, Syme unpacks Cicero’s motivation in a brilliant passage that deserves to be quoted in full:
Now came the last and heroic hour, in the long and varied public life of Cicero. Summoning all his oratory and all his energies for the struggle against Antonius, eager for war and implacable, he would hear no word of peace or compromise: he confronted Antonius with the choice between capitulation and destruction. Seven years before, the same policy precipitated war between the government and a proconsul.
Fanatic intensity seems foreign to the character of Cicero, absent from his earlier career: there precisely lies the explanation. Cicero was spurred to desperate action by the memory of all the humiliations of the past exile, a fatal miscalculation in politics under the predominance of Pompeius and the compulsory speeches in defence of the tools of despotism, Balbus, Vatinius and Gabinius, by the Dictatorship of Caesar and the guilty knowledge of his own inadequacy. He knew how little he had achieved for the Republic despite his talent and his professions, how shamefully he had deserted his post after March 17th when concord and ordered government might still have been achieved.
Now, at last, a chance had come to redeem all, to assert leadership, to free the State again or go down with it in ruin. Once he had written about the ideal statesman. Political failure, driving him back upon himself, had then sought and created consolations in literature and in theory: the ideal derived its shape from his own disappointments.”
The evidence for this comes from Cicero’s own writing after Caesar’s assassination in De officiis and De gloria. In another purple passage, Syme describes Cicero’s mindset. Atticus encouraged Cicero to seek shelter from the growing storm: “he urged his friend to turn to the writing of history. Cicero was obdurate; he hopes to make history. Duty and glory inspired the veteran statesman in his last and courageous battle for what he believed to be the Republic, liberty and the laws against the forces of anarchy or despotism. He would stand as firm as Cato had stood…”
At the same time, Syme reminds us that Cicero: “did not exhibit the measure of loyalty and constancy, of Roman virtus and aristocratic magnitudo animi that would have justified the exorbitant claims of his personal ambition.” His partiality and political ambitions haunted his actions and as a tragic figure, even when the greatest opportunity for personal courage and meaningful action presented itself, Cicero failed. In one of the most famous passages in a chapter that, to my mind, is the jewel of the first part of The Roman Revolution, Syme observes: “It is presumptuous to hold judgement over the dead at all, improper to adduce any standards other than those of a man’s time, class, and station. Yet it was precisely in the eyes of contemporaries that Cicero was found wanting…”
He concludes this brilliant chapter on a somber note as armies massed and political invective raged. “Winter held up warfare in the north… at Rome the struggle was prosecuted, in secret intrigue and open debate, veiled under the name of legality, of justice, of country.”
Časopis Odjela za povijest umjetnosti Sveučilišta u Zadru, "Ars Adriatica" izlazi jednom godišnje, a objavljuje recenzirane znanstvene i stručne članke iz područja znanosti o umjetnosti. U fokusu interesa su pitanja i pojave umjetničke baštine prostora jadranskoga bazena, njegovih urbanističkih i arhitektonskih, slikarskih i kiparskih, primijenjenih umjetnosti i teorije umjetnosti. Područja pokrivanja: Humanističke znanosti; Znanost o umjetnosti; Povijest umjetnosti Journal of the Department of Art History, University of Zadar, "Ars Adriatica" publishes reviewed scientific and professional papers in history and theory of arts, in scope that covers questions and phenomena of the artistic heritage of Adriatic basin, its urbanistic and architectural forms, paining, sculpture and applied arts, as well as the questions of artistic theories. Scientific scope: Humanities, Art sciences, History of art.
The purposes of Theological Librarianship are: to foster the professional development of theological librarians and to contribute to and enrich the profession of theological librarianship.
TL publishes essays, columns, critical reviews, bibliographic essays, and peer-reviewed articles on all aspects of professional librarianship, within the context of a religious/theological library collection encompassing interactions with faculty and administrators engaged in religious/theological education. The primary intended audience includes: professional librarians in colleges, universities, and theological seminaries and others with an interest in theological librarianship.
An annual publication issued by the Antiquities Department as early as 1998 with the aim of increasing public awareness about the value of antiquities and keeping the general public well informed about the kingdom’s historical treasures and the central role of the department to preserve these treasures. Part of this magazine allocated to highlight the Antiquities Department’s activities and programs including seminars, lectures, workshops and training courses all held in collaboration with various international organizations to cope up with the antiquities latest technologies and help develop capabilities of the Antiquities Department cadres.
The magazine’s 10th edition contains articles about the department activities and information about selective archeological excavations.
It is an annual magazine of which the first edition was issued in 2000. It is devoted to publish executive summaries of the department local and international projects including excavations, survey, restoration and conservation work carried out or supervised by the department in cooperation with local institutions.
La revue à caractère scientifique "Methodos. Savoirs et textes" est une revue annuelle dont le premier numéro est paru en janvier 2001. La perspective adoptée est résolument interdisciplinaire. Issue de la rencontre d'historiens des sciences, de philosophes et de philologues réunis dans l'Unité Mixte de Recherche "Savoirs, textes, langage" (UMR 8163, STL) dépendant du CNRS et des Universités de Lille 3 et Lille 1, "Methodos" est ouverte à différentes disciplines représentées dans ce laboratoire de recherche (philologie classique, histoire des sciences et philosophie) à condition que les études proposées partent d'un travail sur les textes.
19 | 2019 Dire et vouloir dire dans les arts du langage anciens et tardo-antiques
« Qu’est-ce qu’un signe linguistique et en quoi consiste sa signification ? »
« Quels sont les effets que les expressions linguistiques produisent, les contraintes qu’il faut respecter et les précautions qu’il convient de prendre lorsqu’on les utilise ? »
Ce complexe de questions, dont on peut retracer l’origine dans un certain nombre de textes de l’Antiquité, oriente depuis les enjeux fondamentaux de la réflexion sur la nature et le sens des expressions linguistiques ainsi que sur les conditions effectives de leur utilisation. Au fil des débats philosophiques, littéraires et autres, cette compréhension du langage s’est déclinée en une variété de manières d’entendre ce que, pour une expression linguistique ou une suite d’expressions linguistiques données, « signifier » veut dire. Les contributions de ce numéro thématique se sont concentrées sur les idées linguistiques que les auteurs de langue et culture grecque – confrontés, plus ou moins explicitement, à la question « comment penser le langage ? » – ont développées afin de rendre compte du phénomène complexe de la signification comme propriété des signes linguistiques, corrélat d’un contenu de pensée ou encore comme produit d’une pratique réglée d’échanges.
Dire et vouloir dire dans les arts du langage anciens et tardo-antiques
Saying and Meaning in Ancient and Late Ancient Arts of Language
In the last couple of months both the American Historical Review and, most recently, the American Journal of Philology issued statements declaring their intent to diversify and decolonize. Here’s the AHR’s and here’s the AJP’s. They both reference their own historic lack of diversity and admit that their own procedures both reflect and produce their disciplines and communities. I won’t dwell too much on the differences between the two, but the AJP’s is shorter on specifics and this likely speaks to basic structural differences between the two organizations and how comfortable they are in this particular cultural moment.
I’ve been thinking a good bit about the issues facing these journals and the little magazine that I edit, North Dakota Quarterly. While NDQ is substantially different in every way from these flagship academic publications, I suspect that, in some ways, our challenges are the same. Our content is not as diverse as we’d like because our submissions are not as diverse as we’d like. More than that there is a tension between content that reflects the character of the community – warts and all – and our responsibilities to serve as a guide to our community of readers and take the imprimatur of our respective publications seriously as both a mark of quality and representations of what we want our community to value.
I think this tension between reflecting a community and challenging it to change is the most interesting tension in academic publishing. Without wading into the specifics of these two journals, neither of which I read with any regularity, it seems to me that these two statements open up a few interesting areas for reflection.
1. What Diversity?
Without in any way denying the need for gender and racial diversity at the highest levels of academic publishing, I wonder whether other kinds of diversity in, say, the editorial boards of these journals is also important. For example, both boards seem to be largely comprised of full professors at traditional “R1” institutions. The AHR’s board shows a bit more diversity with faculty from Fordham and Western Washington, but there is only one person from, say, a small liberal arts (Hamilton College on the AJP’s board). Moreover, there are no representatives from the massive number of public institutions with teaching missions, HBCUs, junior colleges or two year schools, institutions with religious affiliations (of various kinds), and, perhaps most importantly, avocational scholars.
There’s also a lack of diversity in the scholarly ranks represented is also a bit disappointing. Perhaps I’m missing something both board have only full professors and emeriti (with a couple research fellows and faculty at European universities with slightly different ranks). There are no associate professors, assistant professors, visiting lecturers, adjunct professors, or unaffiliated scholars. These faculty ranks make up the vast majority of individuals who teach, research, and invest in the field. There are ideas there. Their absence on the editorial board is not a super great thing.
UPDATE: Do note the comments which point out that at least two of the AJP board members were appointed as early career faculty and represent urban universities with serious missions of outreach and diverse student populations.
2. Review and Disciplinarity.
The AHR offers the most spirited defense of peer review which I don’t mind entirely. I wish they said more about how they identified reviewers for their journal and what constituted the “usual suspects” verses their typical reviewers. The editor also see the democratizing potential in scholars who are willing to persevere through the constructive, if extensive review process. On the one hand, this is a good way of articulating the value of high-quality and sustained peer review in the process of knowledge making. On the other hand, it is naive to suggest that the ability to persevere isn’t a mark of privilege. In an academic world defined, in part, by “publish-or-perish” persevering on a single article through multiple steps of review can be a luxury. More than that, it assumes a scholar has the time and opportunity to commit to a sustained review process. While there is no doubt that time and energy can make a paper better, a review process that explicitly emphasizes perseverance (and presumably “hard work”) is as likely to reinforce the existing academic hierarchy (disguised as a meritocracy) as it is to serve as a platform for diversification.
I also started to wonder about the diversity of reviewers. While I suspect that the AHR does seek to find a range of reviews with different identities, ranks, and perspectives, I wish they’d have articulated this (if for no other reason than to model their review process for others). More than that, I’m curious about how disciplinary boundaries shape their pool of reviewers. For a discipline like Classics, for example, the edges of disciplinary identity are in no way clear. On the one hand, reviewing an article in Classics requires some basic expertise with the languages and the texts, but the broader theoretical frame work for understanding these texts could easily draw from many areas far afield from the traditional core of Classics (or, in the case of the AHR, history).
3. Citations, Soliciting, and Community
I’ve been thinking a good bit about the role in which citations serve to mark one as member of a particular conversation or community, fueled in part by this nice little editorial in Shawn Graham’s Epoiesen. I attended a panel in the falls that used a “progressive stack” method for fielding questions to ensure that individuals who are overlooked in the male and senior scholar dominated bloviation sessions at academic conferences get a chance to have their voices heard. It seems to me that journals like the AHR and AJP could embrace practices and expectations that don’t just allow for marginal voices to speak, but require that they have a place at the table.
Whether they do this by demanding diversity in citation, by soliciting and prioritizing articles by voices who have been historically marginalized, or by using their platform to make their respective communities aware of how individual decisions and actions serve to create barriers to participation in the professional discourse. What if there was a 20% decline in the number of submissions by tenure-track male faculty members to both journals? Would that negatively impact the quality of these publications? I suspect not. To my mind, this kind of deliberate choice by individuals of certain status and privilege would help diversify the content of these journals by creating room for other voices.
At the same time, these journals – all journals, in fact – could force open their pages through supporting forums that highlight scholarship from historically marginalized groups. They could make more transparent and reflective their own efforts to diversify their pages. The AHR statement is great (and I’ll accept the piety of the AJP’s statement despite its lack of details), but the follow up over the next few years will be more useful and revealing.
To be clear, I’m not doubting the commitment from either publication. In fact, as an editor and publisher myself, I’m desperate to understand how and whether the steps they take work to create a more inclusive publication. These two journals provide influential and high profile laboratories for creating a better field and a better, more dynamic, inclusive, and representative past. I want to know how what they do works (and what doesn’t work). This means continued transparency of even “trade secrets” like peer review and honest reckoning whether the changes occurred.
I’m watching not to pounce on them if they don’t succeed, but to understand how they do!
Last year, Pau de Soto and I received a Pelagios small grant to develop Itiner-e . This small support allowed for the creation of a software platform and to explore an experimental idea related to linked open data. It was great, and created a whole new research line for me. I strongly encourage members of this... Continue Reading →
Who am I? 'I am a most faithful watchwoman, ever-vigilant in guarding the halls; in the dark nights I make my rounds of the shadowy corners — my eyes’ light is not lost even in black caverns. For unseen thieves, who ravage the heaped-up grain, I silently lay snares as...
The word “glitch,” meaning a small voltage variance that can short out a circuit, entered the English language through radio hobbyists and was popularized by astronauts, for whom a glitch could mean the difference between life and death. But while the word “glitch” is often still used to connote catastrophic failure, videogamers have come to view glitches opportunistically, as chances to intervene in game texts in ways unforeseen (and often unforeseeable) by their developers. The results range from the ability to walk through walls, to new strategies for survival in unfavorable conditions, all the way to the discovery of entirely new navigable spaces outside the game’s imposed boundaries.
My presentation draws on a variety of game glitches and the alternate modes of textual navigation they enable to demonstrate how the glitch forces us to rethink even such basic concepts as plot, character, temporality, and point of view, ultimately showing how the resulting “narrative of malfunction” blends and reshapes digital studies, narratology, and queer/disability theory to establish brokenness, error, and failure as baseline states within which narrative “function” is at best temporary and often actively to be avoided. All texts are thus potentially glitched, and much can be learned and accomplished within them by reading for the glitches.
Welcome to Salavs – a series of resources for learning the basics of Oscan online.
Oscan is a language spoken and written in central and southern Italy from around 500 BCE to 50 BCE. It is closely related to Latin, but is a language in its own right – they were about as similar as English and Dutch are today. Oscan was in use in many areas that are now of great archaeological importance, including Pompeii and Herculaneum.
This short course includes some help learning the alphabets used to write Oscan, basic vocabulary and grammar, and some exercises for you to complete. This is not a linguistics-heavy introduction – hopefully it should be helpful whether you want to learn Oscan because you are interested in history, archaeology, linguistics, or random ancient languages generally. If you spot any mistakes or have any comments to pass on, please email email@example.com.
If you’ve found this useful or fun, please let me know!
Last week, I wrote an introductory section the foregrounded the concept of workflow in digital publishing and archaeology. It suggests that there is a growing fluidity in how digital data of all kinds move through our academic ecosystem. As such, barriers between one stage of the process of knowledge making and the next have eroded.
This creates a tension that I’m particularly interested in exploring. On the one hand, the creation of fragmented data facilitates the movement of information between individuals, teams, and projects. It also reflects the specialized nature of archaeological knowledge making with area specialists producing discrete data sets. Digital technology increasingly produces and mediates the relationship between these data sets. The work of the authors who I read this weekend emphasizes the social and technological infrastructure for production and curation of digitally mediated archaeological knowledge. They recognized that digital tools and practice interact to produce new forms of knowledge.
Efforts to understand the interaction of tools and practices – the digital habitus of archaeological work – involves a range of auto-ethnographic reflections and observations sometimes framed as methodological interventions, sometimes framed as reflexive practice and something simply description of procedure, as well as a small, but growing body of systematic ethnographic studies of behavior conducted by Huvila’s team in Sweden, the Sarah and Eric Kansa (and team), and Costis Dallas in various contexts (as well as the work by Matt Edgeworth on the ethnography of archaeological practice). My approach will be more auto-ethnographic (at best) or reflexive and instead of looking at the trowel’s edge, as I have elsewhere, look toward the publishing as a key node in the production of archaeological knowledge.
As I’ve tried to argue elsewhere, workflows look to erode obstacles to their path. The entire conceptual framework of logistics involves removing obstacles to movement and the distributed production of value. Efforts to promote this in an archaeological context involves standardization, for example, that ensures that archaeological tools and data can relate to each other in consistent and predictable ways. These standardization practices also promote a kind of modularity of archaeological knowledge that supports reuse of various ways and ensures. In the best scenarios, that self-contained pieces of archaeological information complete with contextualizing metadata move freely between devices, individuals, and locations via the web (or whatever other digital protocols are appropriate).
As the Kansas’ have worked to demonstrate, the reuse of archaeological data between projects, is, at present, less of a technological barrier than a social and professional one. Grants, professional organizations, and institutions have only recent come to regard the work to archive, much less publish, archaeological data as a key responsibility in the discipline. The growing insistence on archaeological data plans for major grants and the recognition of digital work and publications by professional organizations demonstrates that a shift is taking place, but it’s difficult to anticipate the rate at which these top down protocols will shape practice in the field.
Complementing these top down policies are more organic changes that both attempt to leverage the flow of archaeological knowledge as well as to offer critiques of the barriers that remain in the seamless movement of information archaeological logistics. To use one particular case study, there’s been some interesting recent work concerning the dissemination of 3D models and data from broadly archaeological contexts. Recent work, for example, on the publication of 3D scans of fossils has shown that the willingness to make this data publicly available remains relatively rare with two-thirds of articles that relied upon 3D scans not making the data available for various reasons with mostly involve the desire to use this proprietary research for future work or the lack of requirements to share. In contrast, the ethical concerns shape the willingness of bioarchaeologists to share the scanned remains of humans as a recent special issue of Archaeologies has brought to the fore. The concerns surrounding the 3D printing of a scale replica of the Arch of Triumph from Palmyra revolved around the context of its display, the accuracy of the scale model, and the motives for the presentation. Practical concerns likewise exist for the publication of 3D data and images with projects like relatively recent digital monograph on Gabii demonstrating both the potential and challenges associated with sustainable, dynamic, and expansive data rich publications.
The publishing of archaeological information, whether it’s 3D data or more dynamic and immersive digital environments, reflects a more expansive realization that publishing information, analysis, and interpretation are explicit parts of an archaeological workflow that continues beyond any notion of “final publication.” To my mind, over time, this will transform the relationship between the disciplinary work often associated with field work, interpretation, and writing and the notion of publishing, which is often presented as the culmination of archaeological work rather than as a part of a longer process of engagement with a fluid archaeological workflow.
This is a digitized and manually edited version of Flinders Petrie’s book Wisdom of the Egyptians, published in London in 1940. The digitization project was carried out by scanning an original copy of the hardback version of the book and then processing the images through Optical Character Recognition software. The pages were then manually assembled, edited, and proofread into a finished document. The work was in part carried out by crowd sourced volunteers. In the editorial introduction that follows, I attempt to contextualize the book for modern readers and explain why it remains significant, 80 years after it was published.
This book is a wonderful eclectic synthesis of Petrie's extensive knowledge of the crafts and sciences as they first developed in ancient Egypt. I published the new digitized version with an introduction that contextualizes the work for modern readers. There are also new notes on several issues of significance to be aware of when reading the 1940 publication.
I’m writing a book (a snippet of which I posted earlier ) and I’m using Scrivener to do it. Scrivener allows me to write in chunks, and to rearrange the chunks as the thing develops. This morning I wrote a chunk that I’m not entirely sure goes where I currently have it. Eventually it’ll find its home; right now, it’s in an afterword. Possibly it should be an appendix. Maybe it needs to go in the beginning. For now, I thought I’d share it because it might be useful for someone out there. And if it’s not useful, better to find out now than when it’s in print, eh?
Digital archaeology, as I have conceived it here, is not about computation in the service of finding the answer. It is about deforming, and thinking through, the various networks and distributed agencies that tie us to the past and simultaneously make it strange, that enchant and confound us. There are any number of courses on the books at universities around the world, any number of tutorials on any number of websites, that will walk you through how to do x using software package y, and when you know exactly what it is you need to do, these can be enormously helpful.
The best strategy for deformance however is to play. Play around – you’re allowed! Try things out. See what happens when you do this. But we – as the academy, as the guardians of systemized knowledge – have managed to beat playfulness out of our students. What’s more, when you’re just starting out, and you’re not sure of the terminology, not sure of even what it is you’re after, what question you’re really asking, it is easy to succumb to information paralysis – too much information means you’re not able to act at all. The strategy I take with my own students is to make it safe to fail, safe to play around, what Stephen Ramsay famously called the screwmeneutical imperative. To do this, you need to have someone model productive failure, to have someone to point to who is trying things out and reporting back on what has worked and what has not. Beyond this, there is therefore no magic recipe, no silver bullet:
“No. You should identify the problem at hand, and then use whatever it is that works for you” is the unwelcome answer.
The truth is, you exist at this point now with access to these particular resources and this particular digital environment. You use what you have now to see more of the landscape of possibilities. Getting started then just means to fold what you already know how to do into a cycle of experimentation. If you want to get started in digital archaeology, develop the habit of note taking and reflective practice every time you sit down with the machine. Do not remove yourself from the reporting. As Mark Sample once wrote, citing the Oblique Strategies of musician Brian Eno, ‘your mistake was a vital connection’ (2015). You will find in your mistakes your own sources of enchantment, of vibrant materiality.
Guidelines for developing your own digital archaeology
Digital work is craft work, and like all craft, there is any amount of tacit and embodied knowledge that you will have to learn. These guidelines are meant to help you work these out.
First of all, recognize that digital work is slow. Computation itself might happen quickly, but getting to the point where you’re doing what needs to be done in order to do x, y, or z is a slow process. Understanding what the results might mean is similarly slow. Opening black boxes of algorithms (recipes, step by step instructions) and understanding what someone else has coded is slow, painstaking work. To encode something necessarily means that something else has to be forgotten. Ask yourself: what has to be forgotten in order for this to work?
Play. Modern computers and devices are by default largely locked down by Apple, by Microsoft. You are not supposed to do anything outside of the ecosystem of apps and software that are provided to you. Push against this. Learn to open the hood. Find the terminal, find the command line. You will be pushing here against modern techno-capitalism (you anarchist!) This will be the hardest part.
Keep track of everything. Write down what you did, and why you did it and what aids, tutorials, blog posts, and walkthroughs you were reading.
Search the exact error messages you receive – copy the error message and search – with perhaps a bit of context. Chances are someone else has already had this error before and has posted the solution.
Share this information, within the boundaries of what is safe for you, given your particular situation, to do. As a white middle aged tenured man, I can be far more open about my failures online than other people because I am privileged, and so I keep an open research blog at electricarchaeology.ca (and if you are a white middle aged tenured man, why aren’t you making it safe for others to share what works and what hasn’t?)
The framework that Brian Croxall and Quinn Warnick developed for discussing ‘failure’ in the context of digital pedagogy can be usefully employed to provide structure to your notes and reflections. Understanding why and how something failed, the type of failure, is a necessary precursor to developing your digital craft.
Carefully detail when things do work, in the context of what hasn’t in the past. Not only will you have a handy reminder of what to do the next time this particular task presents itself, but you will have a record of your own progression, your own development over time that will help keep you motivated.
Attend to enchantment. These moments when you are confronted by the uncanny and the delightful are signals of deeper assemblages of distributed agency in your materials. Where you find enchantment, there you will find that you are learning something deeper about the world. Digital archaeology is amazing. Why shouldn’t you find enchantment, joy, in your work?
A vital resource for learning the tools of digital work for those of us in the humanities is The Programming Historian, a set of peer-reviewed tutorials that continues to grow (and is also available in French and Spanish). Survey the lessons there to see various hands-on walkthroughs of tools or approaches that you might wish to use on your own materials. Begin with the lessons by Ted Dawson (for PCs) and Ian Milligan and James Baker (Mac) on the command line and the terminal. Lemercier and Zalc’s Quantitative Methods in the Humanities might also be a good spot to start, as well as the various agent based modeling and network tutorials collected by Tom Brughmans on his blog, https://archaeologicalnetworks.wordpress.com/resources/ . For agent based modeling in particular, download Netlogo from the Centre for Connected Learning at and Northeastern University https://ccl.northwestern.edu/netlogo/ and work through its tutorials. The Open Digital Archaeology Textbook Environment covers many different computational tasks from an archaeological perspective, and also comes with prebuilt computational environments that can be launched with a single click (hence taking care of the problems of installing software packages and allowing the reader to jump into learning rather than spending time toiling with configuring their own machine); it may be found at http://o-date.github.io.
How do you get started? These guidelines will help, but remember, there is no rule-book for digital archaeology.
A maggio la prima edizione della Field School of Digital Archaeology (Bomarzo (VT). La scuola tratterà la documentazione e rappresentazione digitale di uno scavo archeologico, impiegando tecniche come il rilievo 3D, fotogrammetria e GIS.