(

,
The Conservation of
Archaeological Sites in the
Mediterranean Region

An International Conference Organized by

the Getty Conservation Institute and
the]. Paul Getty Museum,
6-1 2 May 1 995

Edited by Marta de la Torre

T H E GETTY C O N SERVAT I O N I N S TITUTE

Los A N GELES
Cover: Francesco Bartolozzi, View of the Town of Spalatrofrom the South West. Etching, ca. 1 760. From

Robert Adam, Ruins of the Emperor Diocletian at Spalatro in Dalmatia (London, 1 764), pI. 4. Resource

Collections, Getty Research Institute for the History of Art and the Humanities, Los Angeles.

Tevvy Ball, Managing Editor

Sylvia Tidwell, Copy Editor
Deborah Lott and Robert Ruckman, Permissions Editors
Anita Keys, Production Coordinator
Jeffrey Cohen, Series Designer
Hespenheide Design, Book Designer

Printed in the United States of America

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2

© 1 997 The]. Paul Getty Trust

The Getty Conservation Institute, an operating program of the]. Paul Getty Trust, works internation­
ally to further the appreciation and preservation of the world's cultural heritage for the enrichment and
use of present and future generations.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

The conservation of archaeological sites in the Mediterranean region: an international conference

organized by the Getty Conservation Institute and the]. Paul Getty Museum, 6-12 May 1 995 /
edited by Marta de la Torre.
p. cm.
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0-89236-486-6
I. Historic sites-Mediterranean Region-Conservation and restoration-Congresses.
2. Historic buildings-Mediterranean Region-Conservation and restoration-Congresses.
3. Mediterranean Region-Antiquities-Collection and preservation-Congresses. 4. Cultural
property, Protection of-Mediterranean Region-Congresses. I. De la Torre, Marta, 1 946- .
II. Getty Conservation Institute. III.]. Paul Getty Museum.
DE59.5C66 1 997 97-19 1 1 7
909' .09822-dc21 CIP
 Contents

Miguel Angel Corzo and John Walsh v Preface

xi Conclusions of the Conference Participants

PART ONE

The Management and Pres entation of

Archaeological Sites

3 Introduction to Part One

Marta de la Torre and Margaret Mac Lean 5 The Archaeological Heritage in the
Mediterranean Region

Sharon Sullivan 15 A Planning Model for the Management of

Archaeological Sites

Christos Doumas 27 Management Considerations at a Mediterranean Site:

Akrotiri, Thera

Hartwig Schmidt 41 Reconstruction of Ancient Buildings

Renee Sivan 51 The Presentation of Archaeological Sites

PART TWO

Three Mediterranean Sites

63 Introduction to Part Two

Nicholas Stanley-Price 65 The Roman Villa at Piazza Armerina, Sicily

John K. Papadopoulos 93 Knossos

Martha Demas 127 Ephesus

Martha Demas 151 Appendix A: Summary of Charters Dealing with the
Archaeological Heritage

155 Appendix B: Conference Participants

161 Authors

163 Illustration Credits

 v

Preface

N MAY 1 995 the Getty Conservation Institute (GCI) and the]. Paul

I Getty Museum hosted a meeting of senior government officials and

other specialists in the areas of culture, archaeology, and tourism from
seventeen nations around the Mediterranean Sea. The purpose of the
meeting was to promote the protection of the archaeological heritage
through coordinated management of its appropriate uses-research, edu­
cation, and tourism.
For several years, the GCI has taken a leading role in advocating
the conservation of sites through balanced management of the interests
and requirements of the various concerned parties. Archaeological sites
are of value to individuals and groups (archaeologists, local populations,
visitors, national authorities, and others) for various reasons, and decision
makers can protect these values once they are recognized. In its courses
and field projects, the GCI has developed a methodology for developing
site management; it consists of a systematic planning process that takes
into consideration many factors relating to the status of the site, the
resources available , the local and national laws, and the values perceived
by the various interested groups.
The]. Paul Getty Museum is committed to scholarly research on
Greek and Roman antiquity and to the conservation of this heritage. The
Museum and the GCI-two programs of the]. Paul Getty Trust-have
complementary interests in archaeological sites, and together they
endorsed the message of the conference: The archaeological heritage is
valuable to professionals in archaeology and ancient history, and equally
valuable, for many reasons, to citizens, tourists, government officials, and
others. To conserve it and protect it from damage, those responsible for its
care must understand all the reasons that make a site valuable.
The conference was designed to promote a broad, international,
and interdisciplinary exchange of information, ideas, and viewpoints about
protection and management of archaeological sites. The organizers hoped
to explore the issues involved in the management, conservation, and pre­
sentation of sites and to encourage cooperation among the various
groups. To ensure a productive exchange, invitations were extended to
individuals with commitment, experience, and policy-making authority
vi

from government ministries and related agency posts, and to representa­

tives of foreign schools of archaeology and other international organiza­
tions. The eighty individuals who attended the conference represented the
various groups interested in archaeological sites. For many, it was their
first opportunity to discuss their concerns with others from different disci­
plines, industries, and countries. The conference, which took place from
6 to 12 May 1995, was held aboard a ship; this venue helped to focus atten­
tion on the discussions at hand, to create opportunities to see several sites,
and to encourage informal conversations and personal interaction among
the participants. The entire assembly listened to presentations, discussed
the issues in small groups, visited three heritage sites, and, at the end of
the conference, formulated the Conclusions presented herein.

The conference was formally opened on 7 May at the Carthage Museum

Progress of the Conference
by a representative of the minister of culture of Tunisia; John Walsh,
director of the J. Paul Getty Museum; and Miguel Angel Corzo, director of
the Getty Conservation Institute. The opening ceremony was followed by
a panel of individuals from the region who addressed the value of archae­
ological sites from their distinct perspectives as representatives of govern­
mental authorities, tourism agencies, national archaeological agencies,
foreign archaeological missions, and the conservation profession. The
panel discussions clearly affirmed that every site is valued from a number
of perspectives-historic, scientific, social (including political and reli­
gious), economic, and aesthetic.
As the participants traveled by ship from Tunisia to Italy, Turkey,
and Greece during the days that followed, four speakers addressed in depth
the topics of site management, and the presentation and reconstruction of
sites. The edited texts of these presentations are included herein.
An important part of the conference was the opportunity to visit
three sites-Piazza Armerina, on the Italian island of Sicily; Knossos, on
the Greek island of Crete; and Ephesus, in Turkey-to examine them
within the context of the discussions. These sites were selected because
they are affected by the conflicting requirements of scholarship, conserva­
tion, presentation, and tourism.
With these three places as examples, the participants could
observe what was protected at the sites and examine the results of some
management decisions. They could also see the impact of interventions,
research, and presentation on the material remains and the values of the
sites. Prior to each visit, the sites were introduced to conference partici­
pants by members of the Getty staff; each presentation covered the history
of excavation and intervention, issues specific to the site, and current sta­
tistics on visitation and supervision. These lectures are included in this
volume as well.
After each visit, the participants broke up into small groups to dis­
cuss their impressions and observations. The intimate size of the groups
and the ample time allowed for discussion encouraged a free exchange of
views and an in-depth exploration of issues of common concern. The
 Vll

discussions elucidated the particular challenges currently faced in the

region, focused attention on shared concerns, and explored possible policy
solutions. It became clear that even though the participants represented
different nations, political opinions, legal systems, and professional back­
grounds, they discovered considerable common ground in their interest
in protecting and presenting the heritage.
The principal points and conclusions of the group discussions were
assembled into a document presented at the closing ceremony in Athens on
12 May, included herein as "Conclusions of the Conference Participants." In
it the participants call upon national and international authorities to
acknowledge the need to conserve the values of archaeological sites. They
recognize the important economic and educational values that sites often
have and emphasize the need to manage the conservation of the archaeo­
logical heritage, particularly when it is threatened by mass tourism. The
participants called specific attention to the important role that management
has to play in the articulation of the values that require protection, and
they called for the broad participation of interest groups in the formulation
of management plans. Finally, participants identified the need to create
positions for site managers, to define their roles and responsibilities, and to
provide appropriate training for those who are named to such new jobs.
Since the conference, these Conclusions have been widely disseminated,
both by the Getty organizations and by the individual participants.

Much of the value of the conference was derived from discussions

About This Publication
among the participants, from the creation of new networks joining people
who share interests and challenges, and from the information that became
available from the firsthand viewing of several important sites. It is impos­
sible to convey in a publication the full richness of these experiences.
Nevertheless, the organizers hope to further the understanding of the
issues related to the conservation of archaeological sites by publishing the
presentations as well as by disseminating the views of the organizers and
the main points raised in these extraordinary discussions.
The Conclusions are presented first, for they were universally seen
as the blueprint for future action. They summarize what the participants
identified as the issues central to the preservation of archaeological sites
in the Mediterranean today.
The chapter entitled "The Archaeological Heritage in the
Mediterranean Region" provides background to the Conclusions by pre­
senting many of the issues taken into consideration in the preparation of
the conference, as well as surveying the main points raised in discussions
among the participants. The following four presentations on the manage­
ment, reconstruction, and presentation of archaeological sites set forth
the conference's main themes. The introductory lectures on the three
sites are included to illustrate, with specific cases, the ideas and problems
addressed in the conference.
While not strictly the proceedings of the conference, this publica­
tion is intended to convey the substance of the discussions, the concerns
viii

of participants, and some recommendations that identify the principal

issues and propose possible resolutions. The challenges of conserving the
archaeological heritage in the Mediterranean region cannot be properly
addressed without a concerted effort involving those individuals who can
influence decisions, including the allocation of resources and the proper
use of sites. We hope that this publication will help all those who value
this heritage as they continue the search for workable solutions that
address their particular interests and, most important of all, conserve the
diverse values of these remarkable sites, today and for future generations.

For a conference lasting only five full days, the list of people who made it
Acknowledgments
possible is long. First, the organizers would like to acknowledge the
pivotal role played by the conference participants. From the beginning,
they embraced the initiative with enthusiasm and participated in the dis­
cussions with open minds and warm collegiality. With good humor and
patience, they endured a grueling schedule of presentations, visits, and
meetings, as well as many hours aboard the ship and in buses. The confer­
ence enjoyed calm seas throughout the five days-the final blessing con­
tributing to the event's success.
During the long months of preparation, the conference organizers
relied on the sage advice of an informal advisory group that included
Anton Bammer, William D. E. Coulson, Christos Doumas, Hermann
Kienast, Helmut Kyrieleis, Marc Laenen, and Vassilis Lambrinoudakis. The
preparatory meetings took us to Santorini, Rome, and Athens, where we
were hosted respectively by the Idryma Theras P. M. Nomikos Foundation,
the Memmo Foundation, and the Archaeology Department of the
University of Athens.
The site presentations would not have been possible without the
generous collaboration of the authorities and archaeologists at each site.
The authors of the site presentations have included their acknowledg­
ments in their articles.
In Tunis we received the support and warm hospitality of the
Ministry of Culture of Tunisia; of Abdelaziz Daoulatli, director of the
Institut National du Patrimoine; and of Abdel Majid Ennabli, who wel­
comed us to the Carthage Museum for the opening of the conference.
The arrangements for receiving the participants in Tunis were greatly
facilitated by our indefatigable friend Aicha Ben Abed.
The speakers set the stage for discussion and raised provocative
points. Aicha Ben Abed, Zahi Hawass, Hermann Kienast, Margaret
Mac Lean, and Giora Solar presented the values of archaeological sites in
a panel on the first day. Aboard ship, Christos Doumas, Hartwig Schmidt,
Renee Sivan, and Sharon Sullivan addressed the management and presen­
tation of sites. The introductions to Piazza Armerina, Knossos, and
Ephesus were prepared and presented respectively by Nicholas Stanley­
Price, John K. Papadopoulos, and Martha Demas. The discussions were led
and recorded by Aicha Ben Abed, Brigitte Bourgeois, Christos Doumas,
 ix

Vassos Karageorghis, Vassilis Lambrinoudakis, Demetrios Michaelides, and

Giora Solar, in collaboration with members of the Getty staff.
Arriving in Athens after four days at sea, the group was welcomed
for the closing ceremonies at the Aula Magna of the University of Athens
by the rector. The organizers recognize the importance of every single
person's contribution, and all have our gratitude and thanks.
The smooth development of our itinerary would not have been
possible without the scrupulous attention of Mhairi Forbes and Susan
Guerrero to the million and one details required to move a large group
smoothly through four countries by various modes of transportation.
PhylliS Lapin and Romany Helmy worked with Oscar Garcia, Mario
Cabrera, Deak Tinner, and German Rodriguez, security officers of the
J. Paul Getty Trust, to shepherd us safely through sites, docks, and airports.
Final recognition must go to the Getty staff who worked together
for two years to realize this project. The Mediterranean Conference
team-Marion True, Margaret Mac Lean, Martha Demas, Jerry Podany,
John Papadopoulos, Nicholas Stanley-Price, and Susan Guerrero-were
committed collaborators who worked closely with the conference director,
Marta de la Torre.

Miguel Angel Corzo John Walsh

DIRE CTOR DIRECTOR
The Getty Conservation Institute The]. Paul Getty Museum
 xi

Conclusions of the Conference Participants

HE INTR I N S IC IMPORTA N C E and finite nature of archaeological

T resources have been recognized in various international charters.

The participants in this conference support these charters and urge
their implementation. In recent years, various forces have increased the
threat to these sites: among others, rapidly increasing urbanization, envi­
ronmental degradation, natural disasters, violent conflicts, and, in many
countries, a lack of resources for their maintenance. The extraordinary
growth of mass tourism in the last few years has brought about a change in
the way archaeological sites are used. Archaeological sites are nonrenew­
able resources, however, and, as such, must be managed and maintained.
There is now a need to define more fully the values that archaeo­
logical sites hold for all humanity, present and future, and to develop
processes to manage and present these sites. The conservation of a site's
cultural values is the paramount aim of these processes. In the realization
that archaeological sites are important economic resources and in view of
increasing public interest, an organized approach to decision making would
assure the conservation and preservation of the various values of the
archaeological sites, including their educational and economic potential.
The participants of the conference on the Conservation of
Archaeological Sites in the Mediterranean Region in their discussions
came to the following conclusions:

1 . Archaeological sites hold values for a variety of groups

(archaeologists, tourists, students, national and local commu­
nities, and others). These groups value the sites in different
ways, and their values have a direct effect on the ultimate fate
of the sites.
2. Since decisions taken regarding the different uses of a site
affect its values, a systematic and comprehensive approach
should be adopted in the process of making decisions
about sites.
3. An interdisciplinary group representing the various con­
stituencies of the site should participate directly in the
decision-making process. The management process must
xii

begin with thorough research and consultation with all those

concerned, leading to a statement of significance of the val­
ues of the site, followed by the setting of management policy
and strategies for its implementation.
4. This management process should be led by specially desig­
nated individuals. Their role and responsibility must be
defined according to the needs of each site, as well as to the
structures and laws that govern each site.
5. Additional training should be provided for the preparation of
specialists (archaeologists, architects, art historians, and oth­
ers) who might become responsible for the management of
sites. Such training should be extended to those already
responsible for archaeological sites by means of courses
developed by the appropriate international and national
organizations acting in concert.
6. The uses of a cultural site often evolve in the course of time.
Therefore, the requirements for its management may change
accordingly.
7. The director of a proposed excavation should guarantee from
the beginning of research the presence of various specialists
required for an interdisciplinary approach, and acknowledge
in the plan the fair representation of the interests of different
constituencies. The granting of permits for excavation should
depend on compliance with this requirement as well as with
national laws.
8. It is recognized that many archaeological sites can be impor­
tant economic resources. Mass tourism offers an opportunity
to utilize these sites for economic benefit, but at the same
time it increases the risk of decay and destruction. The man­
agement process should take this into account.
9. Archaeological sites can also be educational resources.
Plans for the presentation of such sites should respond to
this potential and involve appropriately qualified profession­
als. Continuing evaluation should be an integral part of
these plans.
1 0 . The participants recommend that governments and other
national and international agencies recognize and support this
new concept of sites and their management.

Athens, 12 May 1 995

PA R T ONE

The Mana gement

and Presentation of
Archaeological Sites
 3

Introduction to Part One

H E MANAGEME N T and presentation of archaeological sites are

T topics of great scope and complexity. Each, indeed, could be the

subject of a specialized publication. The first piece, by Marta de la
Torre and Margaret Mac Lean, presents an overview of the issues addressed
by the conference. The other four papers consider various specific issues in
more detail: two deal with the process of managing archaeological sites,
and two with methods of presentation. These topics were selected in order
to give participants the opportunity to hear the views of several specialists
on issues relevant to the discussions held during the conference. These
papers, revised and expanded, along with the general overview, are pub­
lished in the following pages.
The essay by Marta de la Torre and Margaret Mac Lean discusses
the diverse threats to the archaeological heritage and presents the wide
range of values-educational, economic, and historical-ascribed to com­
plex heritage sites. It also addresses, in general terms, the need to balance
the interests of protection and visitation.
Sharon Sullivan's paper explains the planning process that has been
developed in Australia for the management of cultural sites. In the context
of plans developed by this process, the stated aim of the management of a
cultural site is to conserve the values that constitute each site's significance.
Sullivan presents the various steps required for the preparation of these
plans; while emphasizing that successful plans must be appropriate to the
particular situation of each site, she formulates principles that are relevant
to cultural sites in general.
A site on the Greek island of Thera is presented to illustrate
the application of the process presented by Sullivan to a site in the
Mediterranean region. Focusing on the site of Akrotiri, where he has
worked as an archaeologist for many years, Christos Doumas analyzes its
significance and explains the management decisions that have been made
there in recent years to protect the site and open it to visitors.
The contributions of Hartwig Schmidt and Renee Sivan, mean­
while, illustrate two views concerning the presentation of sites. Schmidt
focuses on the reconstruction of historical structures, an approach that in
the past has been used widely in the Mediterranean, and discusses its
4

effects on the authenticity and values of sites. Sivan, a member of the new
professional group of presentation specialists, discusses the use of inter­
pretation techniques borrowed from such fields as education and enter­
tainment. Some of these techniques have been introduced only recently
into the archaeological world and are the subj ect of much debate as to
the appropriateness of their use in cultural sites. This new exploration
of site interpretation and presentation constitutes an emerging area of
heritage work, and, like any nascent discipline, its parameters and guiding
principles are still being explored.
The topic of site interpretation and presentation was included in
the conference and in this volume because, regardless of the methods
used, the ways in which a site is presented and interpreted can affect the
integrity of its values and, thus, its conservation as well.
 5

The Archaeological Heritage in the

Mediterranean Region

Marta de la Torre and Margaret Mac Lean

s WE BUILD what will one day become the remains of our society,

A we destroy what has come down to us from earlier times. The

surviving remains of the past are finite and vulnerable. The
Mediterranean region contains the vestiges of the ancient civilizations that
shaped our own societies. If these are destroyed-whether by overuse,
neglect, or failed intervention-the tangible evidence of the past will be
erased for future generations.
Once it is destroyed or its authenticity compromised, the archaeo­
logical heritage cannot be reinstated. The only way to ensure its survival
is to devise and employ ways of caring for heritage sites which do not
deplete them. These sites must be managed and used carefully, for as
unique, nonrenewable resources, they will inevitably be consumed if
exploited without long-term plans. Unfortunately, few long-term conserva­
tion plans can be found today in the Mediterranean region-a situation
that is leading to the irreversible degradation of the physical fabric and
the cultural value of many archaeological sites.
After their initial abandonment, it was common for architectural
remains to be ignored by subsequent generations who lived and died
around them. In many places, the only interest the ruins held for local
populations was their use as sources of building materials or as corrals
for animals.
In the early nineteenth century, a few travelers in search of
romance and adventure visited the overgrown remains of past civilizations.
Later, as scholars and scientists studied the sites and shaped our knowledge
and understanding about the people who created them, the places
attracted the increasing interest of the public. Today, archaeological sites
in the Mediterranean region are the destinations of millions of visitors
every year.
These sites have come to be valued by many elements of society
for a variety of reasons. For scholars they are the subjects of study and
provide the bases of their academic advancement and reputation. Nations
and regions anchor their national or ethnic identities in their interpreta­
tion of the archaeological record. Certain regions owe their economic
well-being to the presence of a popular site. Many countries exploit them
6 d e la To rre and M a c Lean

successfully as sources of foreign currency, through their appeal for

tourism-the largest industry in the world.
Paradoxically, as the values of archaeological sites are recognized
by those who have a stake in them, the rate of destruction increases.
Unplanned and unchecked development compromises many sites; new
infrastructures and environmental changes alter the conditions that pre­
served them in the past. Excessive and unmanaged visitation, often coupled
with inappropriate interventions that attempt to "preserve" the new tourist
attractions, can destroy exactly what visitors want to experience.

The factors that threaten the survival of the Mediterranean archaeological

Threats to the
heritage are complex and varied. Normal population growth and its
Archaeological Heritage accompanying infrastructure can encroach upon a site and damage it per­
manently, occasionally without the surrounding community even taking
notice. In some places, the archaeological remains foster growth by
attracting visitors and, along with them, people who come to pursue
economic opportunities created by the new demand for services.
Ancient populations settled in locations that were and continue
to be highly desirable-coastal regions, fertile valleys, and high vantage
points. Because contemporary landowners seek the same agreeable envi­
ronments, there is often strong demand for lands around heritage sites not
yet protected by legislation. The rise in market value of these lands can
drive the original populations away or make it more expensive for authori­
ties to expropriate land for archaeological protection.
These changes can bring with them radical transformations in
the use of the land surrounding archaeological sites. Many archaeology­
rich regions in the Mediterranean, where just a decade ago the land was
dedicated mainly to agriculture, have been converted today into resort
communities with a profusion of high-rise hotels, restaurants, and com­
mercial enterprises catering to the tourist trade. This kind of development
brings with it the creation and enhancement of service infrastructures.
Construction of roads and highways facilitates tourism and communica­
tions; and better electrical, water, and sewer systems make life healthier
and more comfortable for local inhabitants. Without doubt these factors
improve the economic condition of the population, but they can create
serious threats to the archaeological record by maSSively changing the
environment in which it survived for centuries. The pernicious effect of
these sorts of environmental changes can take years to become evident.
More immediately visible destruction is created by other factors,
such as natural catastrophes and violent conflict. Sadly, in recent years,
there have been too many examples of the consequences that warfare can
have on the cultural heritage.
The most commonly cited reason for deterioration is the lack of
human and financial resources available for site conservation and mainte­
nance; this problem is exacerbated by increased numbers of visitors. The
income from admission receipts very often goes into general accounts in
 THE ARCHAEOLOGI CAL HE RITAGE IN THE ME D ITERRAN EAN REGION 7

heritage agencies or into national treasuries, and allocation of resources

to individual sites that generated this income seldom seems to be based on
their actual maintenance and conservation requirements.
As countries around the Mediterranean come to depend increas­
ingly on income from tourism, archaeologists and cultural authorities are
encouraged to make their sites more attractive to visitors. This can lead
to the reconstruction of architectural elements, the use of ancient struc­
tures for cultural events, and the proliferation of services for visitors.
Presentation and use of the site and development of tourism infrastruc­
ture can be legitimate endeavors that enhance the values of a site. Yet
these activities can also destroy the values if they are implemented
without planning and coordination.
In recent decades these sites have come to be viewed as the
common heritage of humanity, and it is accepted that they should be
accessible to visitors from around the world. Yet the responsibility for
protection of sites falls on the individual countries in which they are
located. Uncoordinated management of sites and monuments as well as
problems of damage and deterioration caused by large numbers of visi­
tors are common everywhere. Participants in the conference considered
that in many cases damage from the lack of management and mainte­
nance could be mitigated through practical collaborations among those
who have a stake in the survival of these resources-including cultural
officials, international and private organizations, and commercial tourism
organizations. The Conclusions that were issued at the end of the confer­
ence reflect these beliefs.

The values perceived in the archaeological heritage by various segments

Importance of Sites
of society depend on the many different qualities and meanings that
they ascribe to these sites. These interest groups do not cherish the
same things, and their perceptions of what is important about a site are
very often in conflict. Those who have the task of administering the
archaeological heritage must ensure that these places are used by society
in ways that do not sacrifice the elements that make the sites significant.
This requirement is the most difficult challenge facing stewards of
the heritage.
In order to care effectively for a place, one must see clearly the
things about it that are important and worth protecting as well as the risks
that threaten it. To achieve this requires a plan built on answers to some
basic questions: What constitutes an archaeological site? What are its fea­
tures? What is important about it? What threatens these aspects? Who
considers its features and history significant? What are the value or values
they perceive in it?
Central here is the importance of the articulation of these values.
Because they are so profoundly subjective, values are best expressed by
someone who believes in them. With this premise in mind, one can con­
sider the values vested in archaeological sites in the Mediterranean region,
8 d e la To rre and M a c Lean

the features in which those values might be embodied, and the people who
cherish the sites.
Value can be understood more clearly if some of the possible
meanings of the word in this context are enumerated. Value can be
equated with usefulness if the place can be used for productive purposes,
such as the education of citizens; or with significance, if the place signifies
or symbolizes something larger and more important than merely the ruins
of its architecture . The current benefit can be understood as the positive
effects on the community, culture, national image, and so forth, that derive
from the existence of the place. The potential can be understood as the
possibility of further scientific information or other benefits that the place
is perceived to be able to yield. Both benefit and potential constitute value.
A cultural heritage site can have many different values: aesthetic,
historical, social, scientific, religious, economic, educational, and so on.
If a place is seen by a stakeholder as having SCientific value, it might
be useful or significant now or in the future for the archaeological com­
munity. This judgment might be made because the site holds important
evidence for some newly understood feature of ancient culture and has not
yet been excavated and thus not yet damaged. As was noted above, certain
threats can ultimately destroy these values. One way in which scientific
value could be compromised, for example, would be if a new visitors cen­
ter were built on top of a site before archaeologists were able to under­
stand the place through excavation and protection of its unique evidence.
Conversely, the educational value of the same place would be compromised
if archaeologists were allowed to excavate so much of the site that nothing
would remain of its features for interpretation to the public.
Its aesthetic value could be endangered if, for example, new con­
structions were to obstruct the ancient view of a mountain in the dis­
tance-part of the meaning and beauty of the site.
Archaeological sites are valuable to segments of society for vari­
ous reasons, and aspects of the sites are variably significant. If one group's
interests are allowed to take precedence over the interests of others, values
important to many will be sacrificed. Ideally, a well-balanced approach to
managing a site protects the separate values and educates stakeholders
about the values important to others.
Articulation and recognition of a particular set of values for a site
is only the first step necessary to ensure their protection. Any threats to
those values must be understood, and a plan must be devised to anticipate
and mitigate them.
In some cases, aspects of a site must be developed in order to
reveal their full Significance. For example, a visitor might find educational
value in the story told by the place-but only if the story is made legible .
A tour organizer may find the place valuable because o f its location-but
only if there are adequate roads to reach it and sufficient amenities to
accommodate several busloads of visitors per day. In purely economic
terms, the size of the site, old trees around the perimeter that allow
respite from the sun, and the view all encourage an extended stay and
 THE ARCHAE OLOGICAL HE RITAGE IN THE ME D ITERRAN EAN REGION 9

enhance opportunities for sales of food and souvenirs and even for
overnight accommodations. These opportunities translate into value for
the tourism industry.
In many instances, the difference in reasons that a site is valued by
certain groups generates conflict. For example, an important archaeologi­
cal site might stand near what has become a popular bathing resort, and
developers want to build a hotel there, taking advantage of the site's
attraction for visitors. However, the presence of the hotel might damage
the view, introduce many more people into a fragile area, lead to the need
for new subterranean pipes and other services, and require changes in the
route into the site. Complete destruction of the site and its significance
can take place if all these changes are made without an understanding of
their impact on the site, and in the absence of sufficient resources for site
management and protection. In situations that embody such conflicts, a
process that can guide management decisions is potentially highly useful.
(An example of such a process is found in Sullivan, herein.)

Because learning can occur on many levels, the educational value of sites
Educational Value of Sites
is appreciated by many groups; thus, educational value is the common
ground among most of the constituencies. A site can provide lessons in
history, cultural expression, art, architecture, societal development, and
conflict, and such lessons can benefit the specialist archaeologists, the
tourism officials, the general public, and even the developers. In previous
eras, excavations were undertaken in a search for treasures to fill museums
in distant lands. Now, however, the purpose of most archaeological inquiry
is to develop reasonable and well-supported answers to significant hypothe­
ses. Archaeology as a disCipline intends to read the full range of evidence
from a site (objects, context, architecture, and so on) and then to use the
discoveries to further knowledge that can or must be used to interpret the
site for the public. Unfortunately, even these new approaches to archaeol­
ogy do not necessarily result in a site that is understandable to the public.
Since society supports and funds academic archaeology, it would be logical
to require that scholars include in the excavation planning process other
specialists who can consider the future presentation of the site to visitors.
Throughout most of the world, the interpretation and presenta­
tion of archaeological sites to the public are woefully underdeveloped both
in theory and in practice. Sites without information for visitors are not eas­
ily understood by nonspecialists-and without some explanation even spe­
cialists can be challenged to understand, for example, an overgrown trench
or protruding wall foundations. Moreover, archaeologists are not yet help­
ful in site presentation, since their training rarely encourages them to speak
to the general public. Nevertheless, good interpretation enables visitors to
understand archaeology and can convert them from puzzled tourists into
advocates for archaeological research and conservation.
Interpretation and presentation must be viewed and accepted as
obligations to the visitor-not only as means of attracting more tourists.
10 d e l a To rre and M a c Lean

In recent years, some countries around the Mediterranean have begun to

use funds derived from tourism for the study, conservation, and presenta­
tion of heritage sites. While some interesting (albeit controversial) inter­
pretation experiments are being undertaken in the Mediterranean (see
Sivan, herein), far more attention could usefully be spent in this area.
Cost-effective approaches, innovative methods, and planning techniques
are being tested and evaluated; the dissemination of the results of such
experiments would be an important contribution to everyone in the field.
Guidebooks available on site-particularly at the larger sites-are
useful. Well-informed guides are often excellent diplomats who represent
the site, the importance of protecting it, the discipline of archaeology
itself, and the host country. Interpretive panels in strategic areas can guide
visitors toward areas safe for walking and away from fragile areas. In some
cases, restoration of a feature of a site can help visitors visualize the origi­
nal nature, scale, beauty, or arrangement of a place.
There are international conventions designed to guide the work of
archaeological restoration (see Appendix A). When implemented appropri­
ately and explained effectively to the visitor, restoration can be an impor­
tant educational tool (see Schmidt, herein). For the maj ority of cases,
however, reconstruction is not appropriate; instead, models or drawings
can show the site in its original configuration and in relation to other such
places regionally. In contrast to reconstruction, such models can also be
easily changed to reflect recent research findings.
Visitors can benefit from exposure to books, guides, panels, or
models that create a context for their experience at the site; inform them
about its features, history, and significance; and advise them about what
to expect on the tour. Good interpretation not only enhances the educa­
tional value of the site but also has many other salutary effects on visitors.
Informed visitors are far more likely to avoid damaging a site, for they can
quickly develop a protective attitude about a place that means something
to them. Good interpretation, however, requires thought and planning,
which must start during the initial phases of excavation.

Both natural and cultural sites have become important economic resources
Archaeological Heritage as
in many parts of the world, and their economic potential is almost always
an Economic Resource realized through tourism. While the degradation of both natural and cul­
tural resources in the presence of large numbers of visitors is inevitable
when the situation is unmanaged, there is a stronger awareness of the dan­
gers that affect the natural habitat than of those that imperil archaeologi­
cal sites. The conservation of the values of such natural sites as beaches,
forests, and landscapes is known to be closely tied to their long-term eco­
nomic value. There are many examples on the Mediterranean coast of
dirty, overcrowded, overbuilt beach resorts that now attract fewer tourists
or attract a less desirable class of tourism that brings fewer economic
benefits. The erosion of the integrity of these natural sites has eroded
their commercial value as well.
THE ARCHAE OLOGICAL HE RITAGE IN THE M E D IT E RRANEAN REGION 11

This phenomenon does not seem to b e recognized in the case of

archaeological sites, however-perhaps because of critical differences in
visitors' perception of value. While everyone prefers a beach with unclut­
tered space, clean sand, and clear water, many visitors appear not to mind a
crowded, unmaintained, or erroneously reconstructed archaeological site.
In fact, many overcrowded sites that provide tourists with a visit
of less than optimal quality seem to attract larger numbers of visitors
every year. It appears that if a site attracts large crowds, it becomes a
must-see for all tour organizers, who promote an even greater influx of
tourists. While one site receives visitors by busloads, other nearby sites
remain almost deserted. Vivid examples of this type of disparity are found
throughout the Mediterranean region, as on the western coast of Turkey,
where Ephesus receives over a million and a half visitors every year while
Priene, Miletus, and Dydima are visited by only a fraction of this number.
Lack of communication between the tourism industry and the
cultural sector seems to be the cause of many of these imbalances. Yet an
even more serious problem is that in many countries, the national agencies
in charge of tourism development and those responsible for the cultural
heritage pursue their objectives entirely independently; this disjunction
often creates serious conflicts whose results are evident worldwide.
Cultural heritage professionals have started to advocate a more
coordinated and thoughtful approach to archaeological resource manage­
ment. It is now recognized that sites have a maximum carrying capacity
that cannot be exceeded without serious consequences. These conse­
quences have an impact on the site itself but can also affect visitors. Site
managers have attempted to impose limitations on the number of people
who can be in a site at a given time-but they have been unable to do so
without immediately feeling the pressure of other interests.
The use of ancient monuments for entertainment and social
events brings additional income to local populations and authorities. In
many cases, however, ancient structures have lost the structural integrity
required to provide safe accommodations to crowds. In such instances, not
only is the monument endangered; the public is endangered as well.
When visiting archaeological sites, tourists entrust their safety to
tour operators, and cultural authorities make little effort to influence the
potentially hazardous flow of visitors. There is little doubt that some pow­
erful groups who value archaeological sites do so mainly for their eco­
nomic potential. A disturbing trend in recent decades has been the high
priority placed on economic value while all other values are ignored.
Very few studies have been done in the areas of site management
and the economics of conservation-whether on the subject of the rela­
tionship of visitors and deterioration, the impact of a deteriorated site on
visitor interest, or the appropriate allocation of national budgets to vari­
ous archaeological sites. Nevertheless, there is an increased awareness of
the need to conserve the "goose that lays the golden egg." This awareness
must be accompanied by research and study to further understanding of
the dynamiCS of managing these irreplaceable resources.
12 d e la To rre a n d Mac Lean

It is not universally recognized that archaeological sites have legitimate

Balancing the Interests of
value to many groups and that the views of these constituents should be
Protection and Visitation considered in decisions that affect the sites. This situation is evidenced by
the fact that decisions continue to be made unilaterally based on the inter­
est of particular groups.
Archaeologists continue to excavate without providing for the
conservation of their discoveries or for the presentation and interpreta­
tion of the site to the public; national authorities decide to promote a site
without consulting with the local population; tourism operators include
sites in their tours without conSidering the impact of the larger number
of visitors; dams are built without any study of their effect on the water
table below the archaeological sites; hotels spring up around sites, and
their water and waste disposal contaminates and decays the archaeologi­
cal remains. The list is long, and little seems to be learned from tragic
examples.
While not all conflicts can be solved to everyone's satisfaction,
much could be advanced by a coherent planning process involving broad
consultation of concerned groups.
As is well recognized in the field of management, there is no one
right formula applicable to all situations. This is true also of the archaeo­
logical heritage, where there are many variances, from site to site and
from country to country, in the values, administrative environment,
threats to sites, condition of the remains, numbers of visitors, and avail­
able resources. These differences do not mean that there are no solutions
but, rather, that specific solutions must be found for each site. For cultural
heritage professionals, however, there can be only one obj ective in the
management of an archaeological site, and that is to conserve its values.
This determination of the values that take priority at a given site must be
made in consultation with all stakeholders, and it must reflect a long-term
view of the site and its use.
Many countries and international organizations have developed
management approaches to cultural heritage which vary in their
effectiveness. One of the most successful models, employed in Australia
and embodied in the Australian ICOMOS Burra Charter, is presented in this
volume (see Sullivan and Appendix A, herein). Successful cultural manage­
ment starts with a planning process that results in a management plan to
guide all major policy decisions as well as day-to-day operations at a site.
A management plan will not provide answers to every question
that might emerge in the future. Rather, its usefulness lies in articulating
policies for different areas of activities-such as excavation, conservation,
visitor management, interpretation, and maintenance-that are in accor­
dance with the significance of the site and with the values to be conserved.
These policies will provide the framework for decisions that must be
made, now and in the future, in each of these areas.
In addition, because the creation of a management plan relies on
collaboration and communication among the various interest groups, its
benefits are derived as much from the consultative process as from the
resulting written document.
T H E A R C H A E O L O G I C A L H E R I TA G E I N T H E M E D I T E R R A N E A N R E G I O N 13

Questions that are much discussed during initial phases o f the

process proposed here are Who should lead the design of the plan? and
Who should guide its implementation? These are two distinct procedures.
The first is the process of bringing the stakeholders together, articulating
the values they perceive in the site, describing the goals for the plan, and
so on, through the several steps of eliciting and organizing information;
the result is a written management plan. The second process is the day-to­
day management of the site, which involves the making of decisions
in accordance with the various strategies that are devised for visitor
management, physical protection, condition monitoring, maintenance,
and ongoing evaluation.
Archaeologists with official permission to investigate a site have as
their primary interest the building of intellectual theories to explain the
physical features that are revealed. Traditionally, while these experts are
the most knowledgeable about a site's scientific significance, they might
not know much at all about how to protect the site-from visitors or from
simple exposure-or how to tell the story of the site in terms accessible to
the general public. Interestingly, archaeologists have also traditionally been
impatient with the idea of welcoming the public into "their" sites, since
they can often see the visitor as a distraction and a liability. It seems rea­
sonable, therefore, to consider the site archaeologist as an important mem­
ber of the group involved in creating a plan, not as the only person who
should be consulted.
The role of the site manager is to ensure the implementation of
the plan as developed by the larger group, including protection of the val­
ues identified by the stakeholders. The site manager assumes the responsi­
bility of operational decisions that follow the policies set out for the site.
For certain aspects of operations, the site manager calls on other individu­
als with specialized skills. A site manager cannot work independently, and
a major part of the day-to-day implementation work is to maintain coordi­
nation with national and local authorities, as well as with other groups
who have access to and use of the site.
Experience in some parts of the world shows that the responsibili­
ties of managing a site can be effectively assumed by individuals with vari­
ous professional backgrounds, including archaeology, architecture, and
conservation. Site managers should have an interest in managing as well as
the necessary skills to do so. These qualifications are more important than
having a background in a particular profession.
New managerial positions will need to be created, and, in almost
all cases, these individuals will need to be trained in new skills. In the
future, such management skills will become part of the education of pro­
fessionals likely to be responsible for heritage sites. Until such a time, man­
agers could be trained through specially designed short courses organized
at the national or regional level.
Site management, as defined and advocated in this volume, consti­
tutes a new approach to the care of sites in the Mediterranean region. If it is
to be adopted successfully, the decision-making process must be evaluated.
Successful implementation of this approach will require coordinated
14 d e l a To rre and M a c Lean

management at the level of the national authorities, as well as the education

of the various groups with vested interests in the archaeological heritage.
At this time, there seems to be little regional experience in manag­
ing sites for the purpose of their long-term protection. While it can be
seen that some sites have been conserved with more success than others,
there is almost no information about the processes that were followed or
the decisions that were made. Research and dissemination of cases that
can be used as examples of the successful application of well-designed,
long-term strategies would be highly useful to those interested in intro­
ducing new approaches to managing sites in the Mediterranean region.
Open, negotiated management is new to many places and is often
rejected a priori as impracticable or as "not feasible" in certain cultures.
The shift toward a participatory process of systematic decision making is
never a simple step. In most cases, agencies or interest groups need to
relinquish a degree of authority to which they have been accustomed or
entitled. The Mediterranean region has a long history of excavation and
tourism at archaeological sites; in some cases, the administrative structures
for cultural heritage have been in place for generations and are resistant to
change. The implementation of inclusive management approaches can
take place only if policy makers see potential advantages in such a change
and if resources are allocated to put them into place. While the conference
participants recognized that it is difficult to make decisions that introduce
radical change, they encouraged national authorities to adopt comprehen­
sive approaches to site management to assure significant, long-term
benefits for the conservation of the archaeological heritage of the
Mediterranean region.
 15

A Planning Model for the Management of

Archaeological Sites

Sharon Sullivan

H E C O N S E RVAT I O N O F A C U LT U R A L S I T E can be achieved

T only through a comprehensive approach to management that takes

into consideration all of the site's values. Conservation decisions
are most effective when they are based on the information gathered during
a formal planning process designed to identify appropriate management
practices and actions.
Over the years cultural heritage professionals have put forth a
number of conservation principles intended to guide their work. These
principles and practices have taken the form of international charters and
recommendations (see Appendix A) . The most famous of these is The
Venice Charte r, adopted by the International Council of Monuments and
Sites (lCOMOS) in 1 965.
In 1 988 Australia ICOMOS adapted the principles of The Venice
Charter to local conditions and put them forth as The Burra Charter. The
principles of The Burra Charter have been used to devise a planning method
that has dramatically improved the management of sites, as well as their
ongoing conservation. This method has been adapted successfully for use
in the United States and in China. The process of adaptation of the
method is essential, since management approaches must be suited to local
conditions and traditions, including the social, economic, political, and
physical environments.
The planning method described in this article consists of a series
of interrelated steps, undertaken in a logical order and resulting in a man­
agement plan for the site. It provides a structure for approaching a com­
plex situation and for designing appropriate solutions intended to conserve
the site's cultural significance. Planning requires an investment of both
time and resources, and it is important to complete the process in its logi­
cal order to lay the foundation for success in the management of the site.
The information presented here provides only the skeletal structure and
guidelines for the process. For them to result in a useful management
plan, they must be developed with information related to the site under
consideration.
The principal obj ective of a management plan is to conserve
the cultural significance of a site, not to meet the needs of tourists,
16 Su llivan

archaeologists, or developers-although these concerns may also be

addressed to varying degrees. A site's cultural significance is determined
by the values society perceives either in it or in elements of it. The value
can be aesthetic, scientific, historic, or social, or a combination of these.
Other values-especially financial and educational-are sometimes consid­
ered as well. Financial and educational values are very real, but derive
essentially from aspects of cultural significance: they exist only as long as
the cultural significance exists.
Identifying all the values of a place, bringing together the indi­
viduals who can influence decisions that affect the site, and obtaining a
clear understanding of the management realities are critical steps of the
planning process. The information thus obtained is essential for the design
of realistic and workable management strategies.

It is often asked whether a formal planning process is really necessary.

Why a Management Plan?
Most individuals working in the cultural field are committed to the conser­
vation of sites and recognize that they have cultural value, and many of
these sites are already designated as important national- or world-heritage
resources. Almost everyone, including the public, wishes to see the places
preserved. Why, then, is formal planning necessary? Many managers obj ect
when asked to prepare such a plan, and they object even more when
"foreign" experts are invited to do this work. They believe that they know
the site, its values, and its problems, and that going through a formal plan­
ning process is a waste of time and money. They have an important point.
Considerable resources and foreign expertise have been invested in plan­
ning exercises that result in plans that are technically impractical, that
are impossibly costly, or that do not elicit enough political support to
ensure implementation. Managers generally feel the need to press on with
immediate solutions to what they see as urgent problems. However,
this unplanned approach leads to ad hoc decisions that can result in
unanticipated, negative consequences in the short and long terms.
Decisions made without a plan can be counterproductive and
often dangerous. Serious conflict can arise from a lack of understanding
of certain values of a site or of the management dynamics at work there.
Other problems can arise from the exclusion from the planning process of
a key diSCipline or area of expertise, or an important group or individual
who can influence the future of a site. Unnecessary damage can result
when the logical sequence of management steps is disregarded, as in the
case where a site is excavated without any provision or plan for its conser­
vation and future management.
Figure 1 presents the sequence of steps required to prepare a man­
agement plan. The goal of such plans is always to protect and conserve the
cultural significance of the sites through appropriate management deci­
sions. The plan is intended to put in place a range of protective actions that
prevent or slow the deterioration of the site, whether that deterioration is
physical or, rather, relates to the loss of other cultural values.
 A P L A N N I N G M O D E L F O R T H E M A NAG E M E N T O F A RC H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 17

Identifying and involving key interest groups Documenting the history of the site
. All the people and institutions having an interest · Survey
in the site or having influence over its management · Inventory
I--r-- · Historical and archaeological record
Who are the key players and how will they be involved? · GraphiC archive

Wha t do we know about this placer

.. +-
Significance assessment Management assessment
. Establish values · Document and assess physical condition
. Develop formal statement of significance · Establish contraints and opportunities

What values does this site haver What are the constraints and opportunities that will
influence management of the siter

I I
Y
Defining management policy
. Statement of purpose, based on assessments
Why is the site going to be managed?

�
Choosing management strategies
. Specific practices
. Operational procedures
How will the management objectives be put into practicer
I
T ....• ... ...
Visitor
Maintenance Conservation Other
management
strategies strategies strategies
strategies

I Implementation, monitoring, and reassessment

I
Figure 1

The planning process.

We can borrow from folklore to make a crucial point. Most cultures

Identifying and Involving
have a version of the story of the "bad fairy." A European version is told
Key Interest Groups in "Sleeping Beauty," in which a king and queen long for a child and,
finally, hoping against hope , have a beautiful daughter. To celebrate
her birth, they invite the richest, best-dressed, and most influential fairies
of the kingdom, expecting that their guests will become the child's god­
mothers and bestow valuable gifts on the infant. These fairies are indeed
generous, conferring upon the child beauty, goodness, wisdom, the abil­
ity to attract foreign currency, and so on. The princess's future looks
very bright. Whether deliberately or as an oversight, however, the king
and queen do not invite one difficult but powerful fairy to the celebra­
tions. She arrives anyway: late, badly dressed (spoiling the decor), and
in a very bad temper, upsetting the carefully planned event. She does
not bestow any gifts on the beautiful princess; instead, she puts a curse
on her and causes endless trouble in the kingdom. Eventually, as a
18 S u l livan

result, the princess falls asleep for one hundred years, and the kingdom
falls into ruin.
The moral we can learn from this story is that any plans for the
future of a cultural site will not work unless all the key players are
involved in the conceptualization of the plan and feel that they partici­
pate in the ownership of the proposed outcomes. The key players are
those for whom the site has value, those who have important informa­
tion about it, and those who can influence its management. These con­
stituents will vary from place to place and from country to country. In
most instances the managers of sites-be they archaeologists, architects,
or civil servants-regard themselves as the only key players. But a thor­
ough analysis of interest groups can identify people from city govern­
ments, tourist authorities, local communities, and tour organizations, as
well as foreign and local scholars and other experts such as conservators,
who may have a crucial role to play in the development of effective
management for a site.
The first task of the planning process is to identify representa­
tives of all the key interest groups, bring them together, and hear their
concerns. This is an essential step, as well as an ongoing element, that
will broaden understanding of the value of the place, as well as of
opportunities and constraints. This step can also win new friends and
supporters (some in unlikely places) for the conservation of the site.
When the key players are involved, or at least satisfied, with the plan's
objectives, the likelihood of its successful implementation will increase.
At the core of this group of key players is the person or group
responsible for the overall, long-term management of the site . l This per­
son or group also pulls together all of these elements and writes the
plan. It is the job of this individual or group to guide the planning
proceSS-identifying the key players, gathering them at crucial times,
and establishing the statement of significance and the management
strategies. It will subsequently be the responsibility of the site manager
to implement the plan.

Concurrently with their identification of key players, those leading the

Documenting the History
planning process must identify, locate, and document all the background
of the Site information about the site, such as its history, condition, research, and
documentation. This task can include research into the site's history, inter­
views with local inhabitants, and the commissioning of an overview of the
site's archaeological history. The regional and cultural contexts should also
be defined. It is important to know not only the details about the site but
also how it relates to other sites in the region and what role it plays in the
region's history.
Certain sites have an overwhelming quantity of documentary and
historical material. In such instances, the information must be summarized
and refined, to highlight and put in context the key developments at the
site. Where there is information about the research and conservation work
 A P L A N N I N G M O D E L F O R T H E M A NAG E M E N T O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 19

on the site, it can be used to reconstruct the intervention history and to

explain the site's current condition and configuration.
The process of gathering this documentation will inevitably bring
to light gaps in the knowledge about a site-and hence point the way to
further necessary research. Often the process can reveal surprising things
about a site's history and condition. The articles on Piazza Armerina,
Knossos, and Ephesus in this volume illustrate the sort of research that
can so usefully inform this process.

The significance of a site is usually multifaceted, and any management

Significance Assessment
plan must consider all values and resolve potential conflicts between them.
An objective and clear statement of all the reasons a place is important is a
central element of any management plan. It assists in the development of
management strategies that will safeguard the full significance of the site.
These statements are most crucial for very important sites, which tend to
have the most interventionist management.
Managers are often skeptical of the necessity of assessing
significance-since the values of many sites are believed to be self-evident.
Managers or persons in charge generally feel they know the values of an
important site. Managers, particularly those with academic backgrounds,
tend to focus on the scientific, artistic, and historical values. Even so, a
close examination of the complete significance of a site can bring to light
other values of importance to different groups.
Some of the categories used to describe the significance of a
site are aesthetic, social, scientific, historic, or other special value. A
significance assessment should involve a careful analysis of all these values.
It can be useful to consider refining the definitions, as well as using subsets
under principal values. For instance, educational value, or value to a par­
ticular group of people, could be seen as subsets of social value. A place
that demonstrates changes in technology, style, or use over time through
the accretions it has acquired may have historic as well as aesthetic value.
And in such a case, the historical value may be in conflict to some extent
with the aesthetic or architectural value-that is, the accretions may
demonstrate the rich history of the site, but the removal of those accre­
tions may reveal more fully the original beauty of the design. Conversely,
reconstruction of a ruin may reinstate the site's original beauty but
diminish its value for scientific or archaeological research.
Once recognized, the values of a site may sometimes be seen to
conflict with one another. More often than not, however, wise manage­
ment can achieve a balanced protection of the values. On the rare
occasions when it seems necessary to sacrifice aspects of one value to
conserve another, it is crucial first to explore thoroughly all the facets of
the values and to consider a range of alternative management strategies.
Thus, significance assessment is essential because, even when a
site is considered to be of Unesco World Heritage status-very important,
legally protected, and proposed for active conservation-managers need
20 S u llivan

detail as to why it is significant in order to protect the values that make it

so. In fact, the greater the level of physical intervention envisioned, the
more detailed the assessment of significance or value should be, since the
possibility of damaging or destroying undetected or poorly understood
aspects of significance is much more likely as intervention increases.
Even in sites that are recognized as having universal "cultural"
value, there are conflicts that must be resolved through management deci­
sions. In the Mediterranean region, evidence of a conflict resides in the
use of the term archaeolOgical to describe ancient sites. These sites have
been found and / or understood through archaeological exploration and
research, and their value is revealed by the archaeologists who can inter­
pret the results. However, the actual value of such sites is not, in fact,
archaeological; archaeology is simply the means whereby their scientific
value and thus their cultural value have been manifested. There are
broader cultural values that constitute the most important, overarching
significance of these sites-informational or research value is only one.
These include their social value as a source of pride to the peoples of the
region, and their value as an educational tool for them and for other visi­
tors. They also include their value as historical markers, as well as their
important symbolic significance. It might be more appropriate to call them
heritage sites rather than archaeological sites and to manage them for the
conservation of all these values.
Archaeological or research value can sometimes be in conflict
with the site's social or public value. Opening a site to public visitation
indiscriminately or carrying out "restoration" for this purpose without
archaeological investigation can certainly compromise the important
scientific potential of the site. Conversely, archaeological investigation for
"scientific" reasons can expose fragile, beautiful, and historically important
remains that are then subject to rapid deterioration. (Alas, there are too
many well-known examples of this type of loss.) Conflicts often arise,
and bad decisions are made, because not all the values of the site have
been researched, documented, agreed upon, and used as a basis for
management.
Establishing the significance of a site requires thorough research
of all elements of the site, including the whole range of physical, docu­
mentary, archaeological, traditional, and other evidence on-or associated
with-the site. In this process, the involvement of a team of specialists
expert in a broad range of disciplines, with the active involvement of
the manager and the key players, will elucidate the various aspects of
significance. The significance of a site should be established prior to, and
independent of, management considerations. Finally, local attitudes toward
the site must be well understood, since they are crucial to significance
assessment and to management.2

The steps that follow the assessment of significance are those that deter­
Management Assessment
mine the physical condition of the site and provide an understanding of
the management environment. These two elements establish the condi-
A P L A N N I N G M O D E L F O R T H E M A NA G E M E N T O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 21

tions under which management will operate, and identify the opportuni­
ties and constraints that exist. The factors that create the working environ­
ment must be considered at this stage of the planning process. These
factors are the legal and policy framework governing the site; the alloca­
tion of management responsibilities; the financial and other resources
available; the physical condition of the site; technical possibilities; the
needs and expectations of the community; current and projected patterns
of visitor use; and threats to the fabric, ambience, and values.
Planners usually find that useful information results from such an
assessment of the physical condition. A careful examination and recording
of the condition of a site can afford insight into the causes of deterioration
and damage . When this examination reveals the physical conditions to be
dangerous, the usual reaction is to leap to solutions (too often drastic and
involving high technology) rather than to continue to diagnose and plan.
However, previous steps of the planning process would have resulted in a
gathering of historic photos of the site showing the physical condition
over time. The planning group can use these documents to compare past
conditions to current ones. Sometimes, surprisingly, areas believed to be
decaying rapidly are found to have changed little, if at all, over the years.
In other areas, conditions that are thought to have existed for long periods
of time are found to be accelerating or changing drastically. In either case,
the planners will obtain a better understanding of the processes of deterio­
ration affecting the sites and be able to identify the elements that require
priority attention in the plan. The information gathered at this time and
the records of condition will also be used in later planning stages to estab­
lish and implement monitoring procedures that must be part of the plan.
Many technically brilliant and meticulously researched plans for
physical conservation or ongoing management are never implemented.
One common reason for this is that they are often inappropriate for the
management environment in which they are supposed to operate.
Expensive equipment that cannot be maintained or complex monitoring
procedures that require unavailable knowledge or a high level of resources
are worse than useless. Such strategies can do permanent harm if they are
recommended in place of more reasonable procedures that would be
appropriate and sustainable at a given site.
It is, therefore, very important to consider the general manage­
ment environment: staffing, budget, visitor numbers (present and pro­
jected), legal status, technical conditions, neighboring land use, regional
and local land use, and so forth. The only plan that will be effective is a
plan appropriate to the management environment and one that-j ust as
important-has been devised, or at least enthusiastically accepted, by local
management.
At this stage of the planning, it can be highly advisable to hold
a workshop or meeting at which representatives of all the key interest
groups can come together. They need first to ensure that the statement
of all the values of the site is comprehensive; second, they need to have
the opportunity to express their views on the crucial management issues.
These meetings are often lively and frank, with participants taking what is
22 S u l livan

often their first opportunity to air their views and grievances; typically,
they then move on to propose positive suggestions for future manage­
ment. This colloquy invariably results in the discovery of important man­
agement issues and problems that had prior to this point been poorly
understood or even ignored.
A useful way of understanding the management environment at
the site-a way that is often advocated by management specialists-is to
undertake a quick analysis of the strengths and weaknesses, and conse­
quently of the opportunities and threats, of the management environ­
ment.3 By looking in some detail at budgets and staffing, visitor numbers
and physical problems, local political support and government policy, the
planning group can gain a realistic understanding of the management
situation and determine what elements would be reasonable and useful
to inscribe in the management plan.
This analysis should help clarify what actions are possible
immediately, what might be planned for the future, and what will succeed
because of the support of key players. Many plans written by consultants
or international experts are sound and provide solutions that are excellent,
technically feasible, and logical. However, they are rarely implemented
because they are so often culturally or technically inappropriate for the
environment under consideration or because they are not understood or
supported by the local managers and politicians.

The data on significance, condition, and management environment will be

Defining Management
used to formulate the management policy for the site. The management
Policy policy of a site determines how the cultural importance of the place,
identified by the statement of significance, may best be conserved in the
short and long terms, with the particular constraints, problems, opportuni­
ties, and circumstances taken into account. The management policy
should articulate, in general terms, the principles and guidelines that will
guide the use, investigation, interpretation, physical interventions, and
mitigation and salvage (if appropriate) at the site; it should address the
management structure and the protocol for decision making about new
activities at the site; it should also provide for monitoring and review of
the plan.
The policy should clearly state the options available and the way
in which its implementation will "change the place, including its setting,
affect its significance, affect the locality and its amenity, affect the client
owner and user, affect others involved" (Australia ICOMOS 1 992:78).
It is easy to describe theoretically the requirements of a manage­
ment or conservation policy. However, achieving a successful and work­
able policy that will effectively maximize the conservation opportunities
for the place is a complex and multifaceted task, one that requires techni­
cal expertise, sound judgment, practical common sense, creative and com­
prehensive thinking, and adaptability. These are skills that the site manager
needs or must have available. The policy cannot be achieved by a recipe or
simply by hiring an expert. It requires the attention and expertise of the
A P L A N N I N G M O D E L F O R T H E M A NAG E M E N T O F ARCHAE O LO G I C A L S I T E S 23

manager and the commitment of the organization or authority that is

responsible for the management of the place.
The management policy of cultural sites must always have con­
servation as its principal, over arching aim. Other objectives-such as
increased revenue from tourism or the use of the site for excavation­
must be subordinated to this main aim and are acceptable only if compati­
ble with it. In the long term, conservation is the only way of ensuring the
continued existence of this nonrenewable resource.
In summary, the management policy should

1 . articulate the implications of the statement of significance;

2. be acceptable to the owner/ authority who controls the site;
3. pay due attention to the needs and desires of the community,
especially to those with a special interest in the site;
4. be financially feasible and economically viable;
5 . be technically feasible and appropriate;
6. provide a long-term management framework;
7. be sufficiently flexible to allow review, improvement, and
alteration (Pearson and Sullivan 1995:2 1 0) .

I n the course o f discussing this policy, or set o f objectives, a num­

ber of crucial issues for the site will emerge as managers struggle with the
question of how to plan to keep the cultural values of the place intact
while managing it in a realistic way, in line with the constraints, opportu­
nities, and issues that have been identified earlier in the process.
Some examples of issues that the management policy might have
to resolve are

1 . whether protecting fragile parts of the site, through the erec­

tion of an intrusive structure, is more appropriate and more
in keeping with the statement of significance and the manage­
ment context than leaving them exposed or protecting them
less effectively and thereby keeping the setting and aesthetic
feeling of the site more intact;
2. whether access should be allowed to a fragile part of the site
that is of great interest to visitors, or be prohibited to prevent
damage;
3. what are the best methods to interpret the site-signs,
brochures, a visitor center, guided tours, or a combination of
these-in keeping with the aesthetic and social values;
4. whether the natural vegetation should be left, removed, or
restored-a decision that depends on its importance and its
effect on other significant elements of the site;
5 . whether research, including excavation, will be allowed on the
site and, if so, where, by whom, and under what conditions;
6. what staff is needed at the site (are guides, guards, scientists,
or managers the most important components?);
7. what is the best management structure .
24 S u l livan

Policies that have addressed all the issues important to a site

should be discussed, checked against the statement of significance, and
written down. These constitute the site management policy.

The next stage of the plan is the development of management strategies­

Choosing Management
that is, the actual steps by which the management policy is implemented.
Strategies The diagram in Figure 1 places special emphasis on maintenance, conser­
vation, and visitor management strategies as often being the most funda­
mental and useful, as well as having the most profound effect-for good
or ill-depending on their suitability and effectiveness.
Often the development of maintenance and visitor management
strategies demonstrates most dramatically the effect that management can
have on site preservation with relatively simple practices. Basic mainte­
nance measures-such as clearing vegetation and supervising workers on
site-can emerge as equally important for preservation as some of the
more elaborate and costly proposals for physical conservation.
This point can be even more dramatically demonstrated when
discussed in relation to visitor management. The effect of poorly behaved
visitors can be catastrophic in just a short time. Simple observation of the
visitors can elucidate patterns of behavior. Who has not observed visitors
casually roaming through sites who, when they thought they were unob­
served, climbed on walls, posed for pictures on sculpture, picked up loose
mosaic tesserae as souvenirs, or carved their names in the stones? The
undisputed fact is that ill-behaved visitors can do more damage to a site
in one afternoon than will take place in ten or even a hundred years of
natural weathering.
These and many other visitor management problems are easy to
resolve . They simply require systematic observation by managers and the
consequent application of suitable management measures. The possible
solutions are relatively simple and inexpensive, and they do not involve
high technology. Yet the impact in terms of preventive care and of long­
term preservation of the site is impressive. Similarly, observation of
visitor flow patterns can result in a greatly enhanced design for a system
of visitor management.
Consideration of physical interventions-stabilization, anastylosis,
restoration, or reconstruction-is central to the management strategies. As
the options are considered within the framework of management plan­
ning, a few general principles should be kept in mind:

1 . Any intervention must be consistent with the significance of

the place and its management policy. Intervention for the sake
of appearing to "do something" can be very dangerous and
can, in fact, destroy one or all of the values of the site. This
situation is perhaps especially likely when conjecture is used
as the basis for restoration or reconstruction, or when restora­
tion processes destroy other important values (archaeological
value, for example).
 A P LA N N I N G M O D E L F O R T H E M A NAG E M E N T OF A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 25

2. Physical interventions are often experimental, with disastrous

long-term consequences, especially if the solution demands
overly elaborate maintenance and monitoring practices that
require skills or tools that are not available locally or that
cannot be guaranteed over the long term.
3. Physical conservation solutions need to be approached with
care and, indeed, with suspicion in most cases. The rule of
thumb is that the best solution is the least possible intervention.

Although this article does not deal with them in detail, there are
other management strategies that may be relevant at particular sites and
therefore must be designed as well. These include

1 . in-depth exploration of aspects of significance and condition

not covered fully during the initial phases;
2. maintenance and updating of records;
3. appropriate physical conservation strategy;
4. maintenance and protection of physical fabric;
5. control of encroaching development or potentially conflicting
management practices;
6. control of research, including the establishment of policy
regarding research activities (i.e., excavation) that will be
allowed on site (this policy should be in accordance with the
conservation policy and should ensure that the significant val­
ues of the place are not damaged);
7. visitor use and interpretation;
8. infrastructure development both on site and external to the
site, if external development affects the values of the site;
9. curation and conservation of movable artifacts;
1 0 . ongoing consultation with or involvement of particular
relevant groups (Pearson and Sullivan 1 99 5 : 2 1 1-12).

Much of site management is simple common sense. The real value of the
C onclusions
planning process presented here is that it can be used to pull together,
strengthen, and add to local planning principles and practices. The outline
of steps must be used and adapted by local planners who have the required
background, information, and expertise.
Management planning need not be a long, involved process
expected to solve all the major problems of a site at once. The level of
planning should fit the capability of the site managers to work through the
issues with key stakeholders and to implement realistic solutions. Planning
should move in small, discernible steps from the known situation to an
improved one.
Although planning and management can be a big undertaking and
involve an intensive use of resources, it need not be so. The collaborative
method described in this article-by which the basic values, issues, and
26 S u l livan

solutions are drawn from the key players-can be both inexpensive and
effective, if given careful attention and planning.
Management planning must be carried out by local groups rather
than by external experts, although such experts may facilitate the process.
It is the local planner who has the expertise and ability to involve key
interest groups.
Because management policy must involve all key interest groups
to be effective, it follows that there may be some compromise and some
apparently imperfect or incomplete solutions with this method. It also fol­
lows that without this involvement, the most technically and ideologically
perfect plan may not be implemented. It is the responsibility of the plan
coordinator (ideally, the local manager) to work through all the issues with
the key interest groups in order to produce a plan that substantially
improves the situation on the site. Management is often unglamorous and
unfashionable. It seldom gets people academic recognition or promotions,
because if it is done well, the outcomes seem so obviously right that it
appears that anyone could have done the job. Yet making difficult things
seem easy is the nature of true management genius.
While the management process described above applies to a single
site, it can also be used in a broader context-regional or national-to plan
the overall management of a group of important places. In fact, in the
absence of such regional understanding and planning, it is often difficult to
plan effectively for a particular site. For the managers, however, the crucial
step is to begin where the resources and goodwill can be directed to pro­
tect a site. Even individual and simple plans can be powerful exemplars­
for a district, or for an entire region.

1. In many places the management responsibility is split between agencies or individuals or

Notes indeed is so fragmented that it cannot really be said to exist. If this is the case, it is in itself a
problem that must be addressed during the preparation of the plan.

2. Involvement of the local population can also change their outlook, educate them about
aspects of significance, and make them more sympathetic to conservation.

3. This is often called a SWOT analysis-that is, an analysis of strengths, weaknesses, opportuni­
ties, and threats.

Australia ICOMOS (International Council of Monuments and Sites)

References 1992 The nlustrated Burra Charter. Ed. Peter Marquis-Kyle and Meridith Walker. Sydney:
Australia ICOMOS.

Pearson, M., and S. Sullivan

1995 Looking after Heritage Places: The Basics of Heritage Planning for Managers, Landowners, and
Administrators. Melbourne: Melbourne University Press.
 27

Management Considerations at a
Mediterranean Site: Akrotiri, Thera

Christos Doumas

H E S I T E O F A K R O T I R I is located at the southern end of Thera,

T or Santorini, the southernmost island in the archipelago of the

Cyclades, approximately sixty nautical miles north of Crete. Due
to its strategic geographical position, Thera played an important role in
the history of the Aegean. The activity of the now dormant volcano
located on this island had a maj or influence on developments on the
island and in the Aegean region in general. The archaeologist Spyridon
Marinatos attributed the collapse of the Minoan civilization on Crete to
one of the volcano's eruptions at the beginning of the late Bronze Age
(around the mid-seventeenth century B.C.E.) (Marinatos 1 939). This
eruption, the magnitude of which is estimated to have been about four
times that of Krakatoa, submerged a large part of Thera and buried the
remaining areas under a thick mantle of volcanic ash. After a systematic
survey of the island, Marinatos chose to excavate close to the modern
village of Akrotiri, where he believed a large city was buried-perhaps
the only one on the island during the Bronze Age.

From 1 967 until his death in 1 974, Marinatos directed a maj or excavation
Recording and
at Akrotiri to verify his theory (Marinatos 1 967-73) . During this period,
Documentation excavations were carried out at a frenetic pace, at the expense of docu­
mentation and conservation of the site and the finds. The photographic
documentation, for which Marinatos was personally responsible, could be
characterized as adequate. However, the complete lack of plans and draw­
ings of the excavated sectors, as well as the lack of detailed daybooks,
diminishes the value of the photographic archive, since it is extremely
difficult to relate it to the rest of the excavation data.
Since 1 975 a conscious effort has been made to ensure the fullest
possible documentation, which appears annually in the Proceedings of the
Archaeological Society in Athens (Praktika tes en Athenais Archaiologikes
Etaireias). All the information from the field is recorded on a cartographic
grid with precise geographical coordinates. In parallel, all stages of the
excavation process are described and drawn in detail. Recently an
AutoCAD software system was introduced to assist in the timely and
28 Doumas

complete documentation of the excavation data. Finds are inventoried and

photographed and some of them recorded graphically. The photographic
archive includes all the documentation of the excavation procedure, archi­
tectural elements, stages of conservation and interventions, movable finds,
and so forth. The graphic archive consists of maps, survey and topo­
graphic plans, excavation drawings and sketches, architectural drawings,
drawings of the finds and plans, and drawings of the modern facilities on
site. Separate inventories are kept for each category of finds, such as pot­
tery, metal objects, lithic artifacts, bones, shells, floral remains, and so on.
For safety reasons there are two sets of these archives, one located
on site and a second kept at the Archaeological Society at Athens. At
present an electronic database is being designed to facilitate the handling
and use of the information.

Akrotiri has values that make it an archaeological site of speCial cultural

Significance of the Site
significance. The various areas of significance can be categorized as
scientific, historical, aesthetic, social, and economic.

S cientific value

The site has scientific value since it can provide information on geological,
climatological, environmental, and other phenomena. Nearly four thou­
sand years ago, the inhabitants of Akrotiri faced many problems found in
modern societies, which they resolved by means of seismic-protection
measures, drainage plans, and architectural and engineering solutions. The
study of the volume and nature of ejecta from the volcano, as well as of
the manner of their deposition, has enabled scholars today to determine
the mechanism and the magnitude of the eruption (Doumas 1 978; Hardy
1 990). The diversity of materials recovered from the excavation has con­
tributed Significantly to the improvement of methods and techniques of
dating and the determination of provenance. The site has also contributed
to the study of problems confronted by today's high-technological society.
For example, the metal objects buried in the volcanic strata offer the possi­
bility of studying the migration of trace elements in order to provide data
useful to the quest for the safe burial of nuclear waste.

Historical value

Figure 1 Equally important-if not more important-is the historical value of

Tripod table. This exquisite round tripod table Akrotiri. The site has been inhabited since Neolithic times (Doumas 1983;
is one of the rare examples of furniture from
Sotirakopoulou 1 996). From about the middle of the fifth millennium
the houses of the sixteenth century S.C.E. at
Akrotiri. It was recovered by pouring plaster
B.C.E., it developed gradually from a coastal village of fishermen and farm­
of Paris into the hollow left in the volcanic ers to an urban settlement; before the middle of the second millennium
ash by the decomposed wooden original. The B.C.E . , it had become one of the most important harbor towns in the east­
process of decomposition caused displace­
ern Mediterranean. The site has provided new information concerning the
ment of the inlaid decoration of ivory rings,
now mixed in the cast.
development of town planning in the Aegean, the process of urbanization,
and the ancient levels of technical and scientific knowledge, international
relations, and culture in general. Information about architecture, ship-
 M A NA G E M E N T C O N S I D E RAT I O N S AT A M E D I T E RR A N E A N S I T E : A K R O T I R I , T H E R A 29

Figure 2, near right

Ostrich egg rhyton. For the prehistoric inhabi­
tants of the Aegean, ostrich eggs were an
exotic commodity, imported from eastern
Mediterranean lands. Two eggs found in
Room Delta 16 had been converted into rhy­
tons (ritual libation vessels) by the application
of faience attachments-a neck at the top
and a rosette around the pouring hole at the
bottom. These vessels were found together
with hundreds of clay vases both imported
and local, as well as imported marble and
alabaster vessels, in a room that, judging from
its street-level window, or counter, and the
classification of its contents according to size,
shape, material, provenance, and so on, could
be considered a sixteenth-century-s.c.E. shop
for such commodities.

Figure 3, far right

Canaanite jar. Canaanite jars are among the
indisputable imports to Akrotiri from the east­ building, hydrodynamics, aerodynamics, astronomy, and mathematics is
ern Mediterranean. One of the three six­ obtained, directly or indirectly, by study of the excavation data from the
teenth-century-s.c.E. examples found so far,
site (Doumas 1 990). Designs of pieces of furniture that have been recov­
it is decorated with a circle enclosing a cross,
marked in the soft clay with the finger before
ered by means of casts add to our information about the standard of living
firing. Curiously, this motif, a well-known sign of the Bronze Age Aegean society (Fig. 1 ) . The literacy of this society is
of both Cretan scripts (Linear A and Linear B), attested by finds such as the clay tablets or the pots bearing inscriptions in
was also used in the Old Canaanite alphabet
Linear A script. Many imports from the eastern Mediterranean bear wit­
to render the letter teth. Both vessel and sign
reflect contacts between the Aegean and the
ness to the contacts of that world with the Aegean, connections that are
eastern Mediterranean. In particular, the also reflected in the works of art (Figs. 2, 3). Moreover, a recent entomo­
sign may be indicative of the common pool logical discovery offers a new view of early Aegean history. The cocoon of
from which the letters of the early alphabet
a wild silkworm found in a j ar may be indicative of silk production and
were drawn.
could explain the transparent appearance of some of the clothing worn by
women depicted in the wall paintings (Fig. 4) (Panagiotakopoulou et aI. ,

Figure 4
Fresco fragment. Women are often depicted
wearing delicate, diaphanous garments in
Aegean wall paintings. The recent discovery
of a wild-silkworm cocoon in a jar at Akrotiri
suggests that silk might have been produced
in Akrotiri in the sixteenth century s. c. E. and
that diaphanous materials could have been
made of silk and not of linen, as has
been assumed.
30 D o u mas

n.d.). These are a few of a long list of examples that give historical value
to the site of Akrotiri.

Aesthetic value

In addition, excavations at Akrotiri have yielded unique examples of

Aegean Bronze Age art of extraordinary aesthetic value. Works of early
Cycladic marble carving and sculpture (Doumas 1 983:27-28; Doumas
1 992a : 1 8 1-85, pIs. 77-79), middle and late Cycladic pictorial pottery, and
large-scale painting in the form of wall paintings that decorated private
houses and public buildings bear witness to the artistic tastes of the site's
inhabitants and support one of its most important values, the aesthetic or
artistic (Figs. 5-8) (Doumas 1 992b). These works also illustrate the techni­
cal achievements of the age, the flora and fauna, the everyday activities
and occupations, as well as the spiritual concerns and human problems of
the Bronze Age Aegean (Fig. 9) (Doumas 1 987; Marinatos 1 984).

Figure 5 , a bove
Marble figurine. Marble figurines were
fashioned in the Cyclades during the third
millennium B.C.E. Their meaning for their
creators may remain a mystery to us forever.
Nevertheless, they represent the earliest artis­
tic manifestation of the Aegean Bronze Age;
their aesthetic quality is highly esteemed by
modern art historians, as demonstrated by
their distribution in collections and museums
around the world. The fact that Akrotiri has
so far produced almost all the characteristic
types created during the entire millennium
indicates the major role of Thera in the
Figure 6 , a b ove Figure 7, above
development of the early Cycladic civilization.
Marble vase. Early Cycladic sculpture was Figurative pot. Incised figures appeared as
not restricted to figurines. Marble vases are decoration in the Cyclades as early as the
another artistic manifestation of the third­ third millennium B.C.E. These painted decora­
millennium-B.c.E. Cycladic islanders. Artists tions characterize the pottery of the middle
were often inspired by the natural world and the early phases of the late Bronze Age
around them, as this jar suggests: its body (middle and late Cycladic)-i.e., the first half
imitates the form of a sea urchin. of the second millennium B.G.E. Migrating
birds, heralds of the new season, and dol­
phins, constant companions of sailors, were
among the favorite subjects. This is one of the
special middle Cycladic class of vases called
"swallow jugs," quite common at Akrotiri.

Figure 8, l eft
Figurative pot. Designed for the transport of
perfumed oil and wine, this stirrup jar is an
early invention of the late Cycladic period.
While many had geometric or linear decora­
tion, they were often covered with animal or
floral motifs.
 M A N AG E M E N T C O N S I D E RAT I O N S AT A M E D I T E R R A N E A N S I T E : A K R O T I R I , T H E R A 31

Figure 9
The Saffron Gatherers. This large wall painting
shows one of the economic activities of the
prehistoric Therans that was practiced by
women. The scene depicted reveals a facet
of Aegean daily life that would otherwise be
unknown: education. The young girl on the
right is trying to imitate the moves of her
instructress / initiator on the left, who demon­
strates them for her. One can clearly see the
young novice's anxiety as she labors under
the severe gaze of her supervisor-Is she
doing it properly?

Social value

The values of the site mentioned above combine to create a further one
for modern society, a value that can be characterized as social. Through
the site and the wide range of finds, a part of the remote history of the
Aegean can be better understood, giving the site great educational
value for the public. Education allows what one author has called the
"mastering of the cultural values of the past by each person rather than
by only some individuals. By mastering these values and the creative time
of past epochs that they represent, reutilizing it most efficiently and
developing it further, man makes his contribution to the priceless
treasure of eternity" (Baller 1 984:8).

Economic value

The development of tourism, which can be considered part of the

education process, gives Akrotiri an economic value for the islanders of
Thera. The inhabitants of Akrotiri and the entire population of the island
expect the site to be an inexhaustible source of economic development.

The burial of the entire city in ancient times under thick deposits of
C ondition of the Site
pumice and volcanic ash has preserved many buildings up to the second
and sometimes even the third story (Fig. 10). However, the walls built with
stones, clay occasionally mixed with broken straw, and timber have lost
their original cohesiveness due to the disintegration of all organic matter
32 Doumas

Figure 10

Walls with horizontal zones. The final phase

at Akrotiri is represented by buildings that are
of high quality, both architecturally and struc­
rurally. Horizontal zones of ashlar stones­
stringcourses-slightly projecting from the
wall, designated the level of each floor.
Vertical poles and horizontal beams (now
replaced by concrete) constituted a timber
framework incorporated in the walls of every
building. They bear witness to the antiseismic
technology developed in Thera over the
millennia.

(Figs. 1 1 , 12). The state of preservation is not as good as it first appears,

and the ruins are very vulnerable. Moreover, due to earthquakes or other
factors, various structures (walls, doors, windows, staircases, and so on)
are no longer in their original position.
Quite often, traces of organic materials like fauna and flora,
pieces of furniture, baskets, leather, and so on, remain buried under the
volcanic ash, and they require special conditions, staff, and techniques to
be rescued and recorded.

The condition of the site and its significance present a number of con­
Management Environment
straints as well as opportunities that affect its management.

Figure 1 1
Negatives of two door frames that were
impressed in the volcanic materials. Wooden
structures (such as door and window frames
and antiseismic timber frameworks) that are
bearing elements need to be replaced before
excavation can proceed, in order to protect
the solid, heavy walls above.
 M A NA G E M E N T C O N S I D E RAT I O N S AT A M E D I T E R R A N E A N S I T E : A K R O T I R I , T H E R A 33

Figure 1 2
Concrete replacement o f a pier-and-door par­
tition (polythyron). The excavators have cre­
ated a support for the wall above the frame, as
well as preserved the distorted form of the
structure resulting from earthquake or gen­
eral damage to the building.

The extent of the site presents a maj or challenge, since the

currently exposed area represents but one-thirtieth of its estimated total
surface . The protection of the totality of the archaeological area has cre­
ated conflict between the site and the local inhabitants, who have been
restrained from the full use of their properties.
The high degree of preservation of the architectural remains-as
mentioned above, up to two or three stories in places-affects any plan for
their conservation. Yet the physical condition of the ruins is very delicate,
and their exposure to the elements would result in their total destruction.
The protective roof that was built over the excavated area has become an
obstacle to the full documentation of the site (no aerial photography is
possible, for example) and disturbs the natural environment (Fig. 1 3 ) . In
addition, maintenance of the roof in the damaging environment of the

Figure 1 3
Protective cover over the site. The extensive
roof over the whole excavated part of the site,
though it protects the ruins, has drawbacks.
Among them are high maintenance, the cre­
ation of less than optimal conditions for visi­
tors and staff, and intrusion on the landscape.
34 Doumas

area (due to the acidity of the volcanic ash and to salt from the nearby sea)
is a maj or concern. The canalization of the quantities of rainwater col­
lected from the extensive roof is another related problem.
Following the great eruption of the volcano in ancient times, tor­
rents of rainwater destroyed many of the buildings and created a ravine
that divided the site in two. The management of the site must take into
consideration the dynamics of this ravine .
The fragile condition of individual elements-such as walls,
doors, windows, and staircases-presents a challenge for their mainte­
nance. The creation of facilities needed for the conservation and storage
of the wide variety and large quantities of finds inevitably disturbs the
immediate environment of the site.
The thousands of visitors who come to the site daily during the
summer months have a great impact and are a source of management con­
cern (Fig. 1 4). Infrastructure work, such as the opening of roads, the cre­
ation of parking lots for the ever-increasing number of vehicles, and the
construction of facilities for the growing number of visitors cause serious
disturbances, not only to the immediate environment of the site but also
to the entire island.
The crowding and circulation of visitors among the fragile ruins
are potential dangers to both visitors and materials. The presentation of
the site is constrained by the necessity to limit visitor access to the ruins
and to the movable finds and by the limited space available on site for
graphic and other kinds of information.
These constraints challenge the decision makers to find solutions
that will address the problems, conserve the Significance of the site, and
create better methods and techniques of conservation and presentation­
as well as enable the training of specialists, the education of the public,
and the creation of j obs.

Figure 1 4
Tourist-season visitor traffic. Thousands of
visitors walk daily through the ruins under
the metal roof in the heavy tourist season
(April through November). Temporary walk­
ways created to prevent damage to the monu­
ments hamper both circulation of visitors and
the guiding of large groups.
 M A NA G E M E N T C O N S I D E RAT I O N S AT A M E D I T E RR A N E A N S I T E : A K R O T I R I , T H E R A 35

The importance of the site of Akrotiri, not only for the specialist but also
Management Policy
for the general public, has made it a major tourist attraction. Various inter­
national scientific congresses and wide publicity in the mass media have
made it almost a pilgrimage destination in the Aegean. However, as with
many archaeological locations, the social value of the site seems to be per­
ceived by many only in economic terms. The media, for example, have
mainly been concerned with promoting Akrotiri as a tourist asset. The
number of true educational programs made by the various television net­
works has been pitifully small.
Moreover, with the exception of some special organized groups,
the great mass of tourists visit the site because the tour operators have
included it in their schedules. This uncontrolled and unprogrammed
exploitation of Akrotiri's economic value creates serious problems for the
site (many related to the safety of visitors) as well as problems of conser­
vation and protection of the monuments. The large number of visitors
also creates problems of movement and deployment of the personnel cur­
rently involved in the ongoing archaeological investigation. The impossi­
bility of providing sufficient information on site and of creating facilities
nearby to do so prevents most visitors from being adequately informed
about the cultural significance of the place they are visiting. It is clear,
therefore, that these conflicts will not be resolved unless the process of
managing the site is well planned and coordinated.
Nevertheless, the experience acquired over the last three decades
has led to certain successful measures. The protection and maintenance of
the site have been ensured by the designation of an extensive area as one of
archaeological importance and by its partition into three zones, determined
by proximity to the archaeological site itself. Zone I surrounds the expro­
priated archaeological excavation area and constitutes the first buffer for
the archaeological site. Only traditional agricultural activity is permitted
within this zone. Zone II encompasses an area where it is possible that
there are antiquities, and the only buildings permitted are small structures
for agricultural needs. In reality, a number of what are actually houses have
been built near the beach under the guise of being farmers' sheds. The land
included in the outermost zone, Zone III, has no restrictions on its use.
Other measures implemented over time have addressed specific
problems. These have included the extensive expropriation of land around
the excavation proper; the temporary diversion of the streambed a few
meters west by the construction of a subterranean conduit at a higher
level; the roofing of the excavated area; and the creation of various walk­
ways for the circulation of visitors. Other conservation challenges have
been met by the development of special excavation techniques and the
creation of on-site storage facilities and laboratories for immediate conser­
vation of finds. 1
In order to accommodate circulation and to present the site to
visitors, explanatory texts and graphics have been placed along the walk­
ways; however, in order to prevent congestion, no more than three guided
groups are allowed on site at any given time. At the end of each digging
season, the excavators working on the site also organize seminars for the
36 D o u mas

island's professional guides, so that they are aware of the new finds and of
the progress of the research, and can better inform visitors, as well as
assist in the conservation of the site.
Special programs for the education of the island's inhabitants have
been organized by the excavation staff in collaboration with the Idryma
Theras P. M. Nomikos Foundation. Seminars for the schoolteachers on the
island have been received with great enthusiasm, and organized visits of
school groups to the site, guided by archaeologists, have proved to be
appreciated by schoolchildren of all levels.

Experience obtained through the implementation of the measures dis­

Future Management
cussed above has identified certain opportunities for the future manage­
Strategies ment and conservation of the site. It has been determined that one of the
most serious threats is the watercourse that ran through the archaeologi­
cal site before excavation commenced, and its permanent diversion is a
matter of priority. The westward extension of the excavation has exposed
the modern subterranean conduit intended to divert the waters of the
ravine, and this conduit now constitutes an immediate threat to the site­
it could burst or overflow during heavy rains.
In the case of Akrotiri, the conflict between protection of the
archaeological heritage and the economic interests of the local population
is intense. The designation of the area as a protected archaeological zone
has not met with the inhabitants' approval. On the one hand, it has pre­
vented them from developing tourist enterprises near the archaeological
site, while on the other, it has restricted land use for some families who
have no other property. Moreover, the restrictions created by the protec­
tive designation have drastically reduced the demand for land in this area:
land prices around the site are ridiculously low, particularly when com­
pared with the astronomical sums paid elsewhere on the island. Thus,
however much the local inhabitants appreciate the importance of the
archaeological site, they inevitably see it as an obstacle to the touristic
development of their community and to the upgrading of their economic
status-goals that are being achieved on the rest of the island.
The managers of the archaeological site have a strong interest in
improving relations with the people of Akrotiri. Talks with the municipal
representatives and the people most affected have led to the agreement
that more land should be expropriated around the site, since the state is
the only potential buyer of the land in the archaeological zone. In addi­
tion, the authorities responsible for assessing properties for expropriation
have agreed to increase the monetary evaluation of land in the archaeo­
logical zone, so that those deprived of their property will be able to
replace it without serious loss.
A regional planning study is in progress, undertaken by the exca­
vation staff in collaboration with the Greek Ministry of Environment and
Public Works. This proj ect envisages the creation of parking areas some
distance from the archaeological site, as well as two-way approach roads
that will eliminate the traffic j ams of today. In parallel, the project foresees
 M A NA G E M E N T C O N S I D E R AT I O N S AT A M E D I T E R R A N E A N S I T E : A K R O T I R I , T H E R A 37

the definition of zones where activities related to tourism can be devel­

oped without alteration to the community's traditional nucleus, which
fortunately has remained unspoiled.
The roof covering the site has suffered considerable damage
over the three decades since its construction, and its replacement is
urgently needed. A European Union research project under the general
title of Archaeological Sites Protection Implementing Renewable Energy
(ASPIRE) has been completed, and its pilot implementation has been
successfully achieved (Figs. 1 5- 1 7). The plans call for replacing the roof

Figure 1 5
Pilot application o f new roofing plan: internal
view of the pilot roof. A pilot application of
the new protective covering has demonstrated
not only that conditions will improve for peo­
ple working or walking under the new roof,
but also that its appearance both inside and
outside will be aesthetically superior, unifying
the broken aspect of the natural landscape.

Figure 1 6
Pilot application of new roofing plan: external
view of the pilot roof (see Fig. 1 5).
38 D o umas

Figure 1 7
Pilot application of new roofing plan. The
unobtrusive design blends into the surround­
ing environment (see Figs. 1 5 . 16).

with another that will be adapted to the natural environment and that will
use ecologically sensitive forms of energy and materials-sun, water,
wind, and earth. The new roof will protect monuments and visitors from
the sun and carbon dioxide, while providing localized air-conditioned areas
for visitors and excavators. The construction of the new roof has been
included among the projects of the Greek Ministry of Culture to be
financed by European Union programs.
The project to replace the roof has prompted the study of a series
of measures that can be taken to minimize the conflict among the site's
various values. Under the new roof, a network of main and secondary
walkways will facilitate the circulation of a large number of visitors. These
new circulation modes and patterns will reduce the dangers to both visi­
tors and ruins. Located a few meters above the ruins and alternating with
overpasses, the walkways will offer better perspectives over the site, and
visitors will be able see the interiors of buildings and view the layout of
the ancient settlement.
Thematic exhibitions of finds from the site will be arranged at
intervals along the perimeter walkway, so that the visit to the site becomes
more than a brief episode during a tourist's summer vacation. It is hoped
that these presentations will provide a substantial introduction to the
world of the Aegean Bronze Age.2
The roofed area will be converted into a "living" museum, which,
with modern communication technology, will be used to educate the visi­
tor in an entertaining way. Ongoing evaluation is planned through ques­
tionnaires for visitors, guides, tour operators, travel agents, members of
the local community, and scholars. The information thus gathered will
help in the continued improvement of visiting conditions.
If the above goals are realized, the archaeological site at Akrotiri
will become a place of education and recreation. However, the achieve­
ment of these two objectives requires the governmental bodies responsible
for education and tourism to participate in the cost of operation and main-
 M A NA G E M E N T C O N S I D E RAT I O N S AT A M E D I T E R R A N E A N S I T E : A KR O T I RI , T H E R A 39

tenance o f the site. With secure financial support, the excavation, scientific
research, and conservation can proceed at a steady pace. The development
of individual research projects to process the finds should provide answers
to the still-open questions of historical scholarship and conservation. At
the same time, the site could develop into a school for young scholars and
a training ground for excavation and conservation techniques. And finally,
opportunities for new jobs will emerge from the various activities that will
arise from the effective management of the site.

1. Three such laboratories now exist at Akrotiri-one for mending and conserving pottery, one
Notes for metallic objects and other materials, and one for wall paintings.

2. Some of the themes suggested for these exhibitions are the island's geological history; its envi·
ronment (climate, fauna, flora); the everyday occupations and activities of the inhabitants of
prehistoric Thera; the inhabitants' diet and dress, technical and protoscientific achievements,
ideology and beliefs; and their relations with the rest of the world (see also Doumas 1993).

Baller, E.
References 1984 Communism and Cultural Heritage. Moscow: Progress Publishers.

Doumas, Christos
1983 Thera: Pompeii of the Ancient Aegean. London: Thames and Hudson.

1 987 H :::: £0"'1\ 3 Kat Ot KuavoKE<jlaAOt (HT1V tEXVTl tTl� El1\pa� (E Xeste 3 kai oi
kyanokephaloi sten techne tes Theras; Xeste 3 and the blue-headed people in the art
of Thera). In E1 Amr
ivf/, rO/1ot; 1:1/11/rLKOt; rw 1:QV Ka8f/rf/nj N1Ko).ao IT)'c1rwva

(Eilapine, tomos timetikos gia ton Kathegete Nikolao Platona; Eilapine, volume in
honor of Professor Nicholas Platon), 1 5 1-59. Heraklion: Demos Herakleiou.

1990 The elements at Akrotiri. In Thera and the Aegean World Ill: Proceedings of the Third
International Congress, Santorini, Greece, 3-9 September 1 989, ed. D. Hardy, vo!' 1 , 24-30.
London: Thera Foundation.

1992a AvacrKa<jl1\ AKPOltTlpiou El1\pa� (Auaskaphe Akroteriou Theras; Excavation at

Akrotiri, Thera). ITpaKrlKc1 rf/t; eV A8ryvatt; ApxalO).Or1Kryt; Era/peiat; (Praktika tes
en Athenais Archaiologikes Etaireias; Proceedings of the Archaeological Society
in Athens).

1992b The Wall-Paintings of Thera. Trans. Alex Doumas. Athens: Thera Foundation.

1993 Archaeological sites as alternative exhibitions: The case of Akrotiri, Thera. European
Review 1 (3):279-84.

Doumas, Christos, ed.

1978 Thera and the Aegean World: Papers Presented at the Second International Scientific Congress,
Santorini, Greece, August 1 978. Vo!' 1 , pt. 1 (geosciences), 2 1 -3 6 1 . London: Thera and the
Aegean World, 1 9 78-80.

Hardy, D., ed.

1990 Thera and the Aegean World III: Proceedings of the Third International Congress, Santorini,
Greece, 3-9 September 1 989. Vo!' 1 . London: Thera Foundation.

Marinatos, Nanno
1984 Art and Religion in Thera. Athens: D. and J. Mathioulakis.
40 Doumas

Marinatos, Spyridon

1939 The volcanic destruction of Minoan Crete. Antiquity 1 3 :425-39.

1967-73 Excavations at Thera. Athens: Archaeological Society at Athens.

Panagiotakopoulou, E . , P. C. Buckland, P. M. Day, C. Doumas,

A. Sarpaki, and P. Skidmore

n.d. Silk and corron in the Aegean Bronze Age: A new find from Thera and a reevaluation
of evidence. Antiquity. Forthcoming.

Sotirakopoulou, P.

1996 Late Neolithic pottery from Akrotiri on Thera: Its relations and the consequent
implications. In Die Agiiische Friihzeit, ed. E. Alram Stern, 58 1-607. Vienna:
Osterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften.
 41

Reconstruction of Ancient Buildings

Hartwig Schmidt

N E 0 F THE M 0 S T famous German visitors to Italy in the eigh­

O teenth century was Johann Wolfgang von Goethe ( 1 749-1 832).

He arrived in Rome in November 1 786; a few days later he noted
in his diary: "Let's admit, however, it is a sour and sad business to pick the
old Rome out of the new one, but one has to do it nevertheless, and can
hope for invaluable satisfaction. One meets traces of a magnificence and of
a destruction, both of which are beyond us" (Goethe 1 976: 1 1 7) . 1 His words
anticipate a problem that today's visitors of ancient sites still face-ruins
can be difficult to understand without the benefit of interpretation.
Many travelers-fascinated by ancient ruins-visited eighteenth­
century Rome on the grand tour. Guides, called ciceroni, led visitors
through the sights. The mix of fact and fiction in their explanations varied
from guide to guide. Around the middle of the century, archaeologists,
who had become interested in the ruins of Rome, began excavating and
restoring them, attempting historic reconstruction of original buildings.
This endeavor, which could be achieved theoretically on the drawing
board, failed in reality because there were seldom enough remaining traces
and clues.
During excavations that were started in 1 800 in the Roman
Forum, architects of the French Academy in Rome proposed the recon­
struction of the Arch of Titus (Fig. 1 ) , only the center of which was in
fairly sound condition. First, in 1 809-10, Auguste-Jean-Maria Guenepin
produced an exact record of the building. Then, in 1 8 12, the dismantling
of the arch was begun. In 1 8 1 7 the architect Raffaele Stern ( 1 7 74-1 820)
initiated a project of research and excavation that was finally completed
twelve years later by Giuseppe Valadier ( 1 762- 1 839). These architects
incorporated the original remains into a complete reconstruction of the
ancient building; in fact, even today, the arch appears from a distance to
have survived fairly intact. A closer examination, however, reveals
differences between the original, damaged portion in the center and the
newer parts in the outer areas.
To identify the new parts visually, the architects used a method
that can be considered exemplary even today. While the new building
42 Schmidt

Figure 1 elements were, of course, created to the original scale, they were rendered
Giovanni Battista Piranesi, View of the Arch of as simplified shapes and produced in a material different from the original.
Titus, ca. 1 770. Etching, 47 X 71 em. Resource
Despite the patination of the new parts since the reconstruction, it is
Collections, Getty Research Institute for the
History of Art and the Humanities, Los still possible to distinguish between original and supplemental elements
Angeles. This image of the ruined Arch of (Fig. 2a, b). Of course, it is much easier for a visitor to comprehend a
Titus gives an idea of how difficult it must complete structure than a building in a ruined state. Archaeologists,
have been to imagine, from the state of the
however, are only interested in the original parts.
ancient ruins, their former, intact appearance.
On the left is the entrance to the Farnese
The condition of the Roman Forum today illustrates another
Gardens, in the background the ruins of the problem inherent in all reconstruction: Archaeological ruins once corre­
Roman Forum. The remains of the triumphal sponded to and harmonized with their original surroundings. When
arch had already been freed from their
reconstructed, however, these complete new structures are often difficult
medieval superstructure and buttressed by
masonry on the left.
to integrate into the existing setting. This problem is very evident in the
case of the Stoa of Attalos on the Athenian Agora, rebuilt by the American
School of Classical Studies in Athens between 1 953 and 1 956. The large
size of the newly erected, complete hall presents a jarring contrast to the
low ruins of the ancient structures that surround it (Fig. 3).
The Stoa of Attalos, a present of Attalos II (r. 1 59-1 3 8 B.C.E.), king
of Pergamon, to the city of Athens, was erected in the second century
B.C.E. Only small fragments of the building have survived the ravages of
time (Fig. 4). The skillful reconstruction carried out by the American
School used building materials available in ancient times. Since the new
building had to accommodate storerooms, a museum, and workrooms for
 R E C O N S T RU C T I O N O F A N C I E N T B U I L D I N G S 43

Figure 2a, b archaeologists, modern installations of water, gas, and electricity were
Arch of Titus, Rome. From a distance (a) the
provided. For safety, the restorers used concrete in the ceilings rather than
arch looks today as if it has survived intact
reproducing the original wooden-beam construction. The rooms of
through time. A closer view (b) reveals, how­
ever, considerable damage in the central parts, ancient shops on the building's ground level were adapted to house a
which can be clearly differentiated from the museum. Given the general condition of the building as well as the mod­
newer, reconstructed parts in the outer areas. ern installations, visitors should understand that the structure is not, in
The new elements were constructed in
fact, authentically ancient. Even so, tour guides report that it is often
simplified shapes, as seen in the Corinthian
capitals and in the unfluted column in the difficult to rid tourists of their romantic notion that Socrates once rallied
right corner. The new elements were also ren­ his students around him on the very steps on which the modern visitors
dered in different materials-for example, are standing (Fig. 5).
travertine has been substituted for the original
Historic buildings are invaluable sources for historic research. Not
marble. While it is still possible today to dis­
tinguish between the original parts and the
only do they embody data but they are also authentic, tangible remains of
reconstructions, to the uncritical observer the the past that have survived through history. This history is manifested in
arch appears intact. the signs of aging and the injuries left by use, alteration, and destruction­
evidence that documents the passage of time. Some of the damage can be
repaired, and lost parts can be replaced. The result, however, is not a more
complete ancient building but, instead, a modern creation.
Toward the end of the nineteenth century, archaeologists began
to formulate rules to ensure the authenticity of ruins and prevent their
falsification. Nicolaos Balanos ( 1 860-1 942), who led the re-erection of the
AcropoliS in Athens from 1 895 to 1 940, described his working method,
which he called anastylosis, as the reassembly of existing but dismembered
parts (Balanos 1 938). He contrasted his method with reconstruction-the
re-creation, with new materials, of parts that no longer exist. His concept
44 Schmidt

Figure 3
The reconstructed Stoa of Attalos in the
Athenian Agora. The Stoa of Attalos, origi­
nally built around 1 50 B.C.E. , was recon­
structed between 1953 and 1956. The building
appears enormous in relation to the surround­
ing small dwellings and sparse remains of
other ancient buildings. The structure has
modern water, gas, and electrical installations
so it can serve its current function as office,
storage, and museum space for the American
School of Classical Studies in Athens.

Figure 4
Ancient foundations of the Stoa of Attalos
prior to reconstruction. In 1952, when the site
was excavated, the foundations of the ancient
structure were preserved over the whole
length of the building, and the walls stood at
their full height in two places.

Figure 5
Front of the reconstructed Stoa of Attalos.
The stairs of the crepidoma are used as a rest­
ing place by modern visitors. Although the
imposing building is obviously a modern
reconstruction, tour guides report that
tourists commonly hold the anachronistic
notion that the stoa is authentically ancient.

of anastylosis was established in 1 9 3 1 in the Recommendations of the Athens

Conference; later it was also embodied in The Venice Charte r, which laid
down binding principles for the conservation and restoration of monu­
ments (ICOMOS 1 964, 1 965; see Appendix A). The Venice Charter states that
"ruins must be maintained and measures necessary for the permanent con-
 R E C O N S T RU C T I O N O F A N C I E N T B U I L D I N G S 45

servation and protection of architectural features and of objects discov­

ered must be taken. Furthermore, every means must be taken to facilitate
the understanding of the monument and to reveal it without ever distort­
ing its meaning. All reconstruction work should, however, be ruled out a
priori. Only anastylosis, that is to say, the reassembling of existing but
dismembered parts, can be permitted. The material used for integration
should always be recognizable and its use should be the least that will
ensure the conservation of a monument and the reinstatement of its
form" (ICOMOS 1 964, 1 965 : art. 1 5 ) .
The simplest form o f anastylosis i s the re-erection o f columns.
Yet even this most benign of all reconstruction procedures can fundamen­
tally alter a structure's appearance. Between 1 922 and 1 930, when Balanos
re-erected the fallen columns on the northern side of the Parthenon, he
completely changed the appearance of the building and, at the same time,
nearly erased the evidence of the 1687 explosion that tore a gaping hole
in the colonnade (Figs. 6, 7) .

Figure 6
Nineteenth-century view of the Parthenon,
Athens, showing extensive damage to the
colonnade. This 1 890 photograph taken from
the northwest records the broad gap created
when columns collapsed from an explosion
in 1687.

Figure 7
The Parthenon after the repairs of 1922-30.
This photograph shows the Parthenon as it
appeared following the anasrylosis carried out
by Nicolaos Balanos. Columns were re­
erected and the architraves and frieze
replaced. Missing parts were produced in
masonry and plastered with a cement mortar.
It remained in this condition until recent
years, when new conservation work was
undertaken.
46 Schmidt

There is a serious danger that, through ignorance or the applica­

tion of unsound methods of restoration and anastylosis, restorers can
distort ruins and destroy their integrity as documents. Such erroneous
interventions result in a loss of value. To safeguard against these risks,
The Venice Charter rejects reconstruction on excavation sites, considering
anastylosis as the only permiSSible type of intervention.
A re-erection, when done strictly as anastylosis, differs visually
from a reconstruction that introduces new materials. The Library of
Celsus in Ephesus is a good example of anastylosis. While Friedmund
Hueber, who re-erected the structure from 1 970 to 1 978, adhered to the
principles of The Venice Charter, he found it necessary to stabilize the
building with reinforced concrete and some new columns. The building
does not look like a historical forgery; nevertheless, it is, in fact, a
recently created, modern "ruin" (Figs. 8-1 1 ) .
Visitors close t o the monument can easily detect that i t i s only
a partial re-erection, consisting mainly of the magnificent facade of
columns. There has been no attempt to reconstruct the whole building,
as in the case of the Stoa of Attalos. The work was limited to assembling
the marble elements when their original positions could be determined.
The rough stone masonry at the back was not reconstructed, and the
building remains in a partially ruined condition (Fig. 12).

Figure 8 Figure 9

The Library of Celsus in Ephesus during the The Library of Celsus seen at the end of the
excavations in 1905. Architects put together Street of the Curetes. The magnificent marble
the remaining architectural elements to get an facade was restored between 1 970 and 1978 by
idea of the appearance of the original Roman Friedmund Hueber and V M. Strocka, who
building. Some of these elements are today in incorporated original stones found on the
museums in Vienna and Istanbul; they are site, copies of architectural members that had
either missing in the modern reconstruction been removed into museum collections, and
or replaced by copies. new pieces needed for structural stabiliry. The
seventeen-meter-high facade dominates the
surrounding ruins and attracts the attention
of tourists.
 R E C O N S T RU C T I O N O F A N C I E N T B U I L D I N G S 47

Figure 1 0 , a bove Even so, the re-erection of the seventeen-meter-high facade

The Library of Celsus and its immediate sur­
changed the character of the entire archaeological site, and the Library
rounds. Even after the 1980-89 reconstruction
of Celsus has become the most prominent ruin of Ephesus: it towers over
of the Gate of Mazaus and Mithridates (on
the right) and the Tetragonos Agora (not the remains of all other structures, and since they are lower, their apparent
visible), the library dominates the site. importance is diminished. Although the intent and methods of reconstruc­
tion differ from those of the Stoa of Attalos, the reconstruction has cre­
Figure II, a b ove right ated the same problem-a misleadingly dominant structural presence.
The Library of Celsus viewed from below. A
In this light, it is logical to ask if there are valid reasons for
close look reveals the use of original, broken
reconstruction and whether reconstructed ruins can have a viable exis­
elements as well as the treatment of new
areas. The impression created is that of a tence. There are good reasons to reconstruct structures, but none of
ruined building. them are justified within a true archaeological site. In contrast, in an
approach known as "experimental archaeology," reconstruction is occa­
sionally employed to test archaeological theories. The Lejre Historical­
Archaeological Research Center, founded in 1 964 by Hans-Ole Hansen in
Lejre, near Roskilde, Denmark, is a well-known interpretation of this idea
(Hansen 1 982). In Lejre various excavations yielded data about materials
and their use; this information was used as a basis for the reconstruction
of three prehistoric villages (Fig. 1 3 ) .
Another example o f experimental archaeology, carried out in
the 1 93 0s, is the reconstruction of a Bronze Age settlement in
Unteruhldingen, on Lake Constance in Germany (Fig. 1 4) (Reinerth
1 980: 12). The full-scale models are based on the interpretation of data
from excavations at various sites. Although many of the archaeological

Figure 1 2
The Library of Celsus viewed from the
side. The reconstruction focused mainly on
the facade; the rest of the structure remains
in ruins.
48 Schmidt

Figure 1 4
Reconstruction of a Bronze Age settlement at
Unteruhldingen, Lake Constance, Germany.
Information gathered from excavations in
Buchau at the Federsee, fifty kilometers away,
Figure 1 3 was used by Hans Reinerth in 1931 to create
Lejre Historical-Archaeological Research this full-scale model, which, it is now known,
Center, near Roskilde, Denmark. This aerial is not historically accurate.
view shows the site where three prehistoric
villages have been re-created based on infor­
mation about materials and their uses that has
been gathered from various excavations.

hypotheses that guided the reconstruction have since proved incorrect, the
settlement is still a major tourist attraction. It appears that visitors can be
interested in fanciful and attractive exhibitions, even when they know that
such exhibitions are neither authentic nor SCientifically accurate.
How people have lived in the past is a matter of great interest to
the public. Some methods of presenting archaeological sites can convey
ancient ways of life more comprehensively than architectural reconstruc­
tion. Such an example is an installation at a shopping center that was built
from 1 976 to 1 9 8 1 in York, England, above the excavation of a Viking
settlement dating from the tenth century (Fig. 15). At the basement level,
visitors can view a re-creation of life in the time of the Vikings, composed
of the settlement's remains supplemented with furnishings and fittings.
The substantial flow of visitors through the Jorvik Viking Centre-900,OOO
a year-bears witness to the fascination that this sort of presentation can
engender. Visitors take a thirteen-minute ride through the exhibition in
small cars, learning how the former inhabitants and their surroundings
looked "on a day late in October in the year 948 in the Viking-time [of]
old Yorvik," as the brochure declares (Jorvik Viking Centre 1 992). The
individual figures, which are immobile wooden carvings, inhabit surround­
ings that have been re-created in the greatest possible detail-even includ­
ing noises and odors. In addition to the historical exhibit, a reconstructed
excavation site re-creates for visitors the archaeological work that took
place here. This component is intended to convey to visitors the fact that
all the reconstructions are fictitious, and that they reflect interpretations
based on very vague information. However, it is unclear if this clarification
is effective.
 R E C O N S T RU C T I O N O F A N C I E N T B U I L D I N G S 49

Figure 1 5
Jorvik Viking Centre, York, England. A shop­
ping center was built in 1 9 76-81 above the
excavation of a tenth-century Viking settle­
ment. Two of the rows of buildings were
reconstructed to correspond to archaeologists'
conjecture about how they were originally
built. The "Vikings" are wooden models.

The type of comprehensive presentation seen at the Jorvik

Viking Centre was first developed in the United States. Such installations
are often called historic site museums or open-air museums on historical
sites. Prime examples are Yorktown and Colonial Williamsburg in Virginia,
where colonial North America is re-created. Another such site is Plimoth
Plantation, an outdoor museum complex that attempts to recreate the
Pilgrims' first settlement as it stood in 1 627, seven years after their arrival
in North America (Fig. 16) (Plimoth Plantation 1 994). The individual
houses and their furnishings are not authentic, nor is the location, since
the museum is situated in modern-day Plymouth, some distance from
the original settlement. The employees of the site-called "interpreters"­
dress in historically accurate costumes, performing normal chores while
they explain their work, in order to make life in the past as accessible as

Figure 1 6
Plimoth Plantation, Plymouth, Massachusetts.
The museum complex attempts to re-create
the Pilgrims' first settlement at Plymouth
Rock, where they landed in 1620. Individual
houses and their furnishings have been re­
created five kilometers from the original
landing site. Employees-called "inter­
preters" -dress in historical costumes and
perform everyday chores while explaining
their work to visitors.
50 Sch m i d t

possible to visitors. The absence of authentic obj ects led to the develop­
ment of this form of presentation, which has as its main focus the telling
of a story rather than the exhibition of historical materials.
Jorvik Viking Centre and Plimoth Plantation are fictional worlds
created for visitors. These parks with historical themes meet a certain
demand in a society with leisure time and income available for visual
entertainment. In the modern world, heritage professionals should accept
that nontraditional methods of historical education are valid. The ideals of
authenticity and originality are not an issue in such places-entertainment
is. The values of experimental archaeology, however, are not transferable
to authentic archaeological sites.
Reconstruction, then, falls in the realm of tourist attractions, and
as such should not be part of archaeological sites. Activities on authentic
sites should be restricted to measures that preserve historic buildings and
monuments: conservation, restoration, and anastylosis. Only these prac­
tices can ensure the unaltered preservation of the historical remains,
thereby safeguarding their integrity as authentic records of history. In
addition to yielding important scientific data, archaeological sites bear
witness to the transitory nature of all human creations. The handling of
ruins, therefore, should respect their nature . Their presentation should be
responsible and modest and incorporate signs of aging. Archaeological
practices should try to achieve a long-lasting conservation. They should
not aim for sensational presentations as a means of attracting visitors.

1. "Gestehen wir es jedoch, es ist ein saures und trauriges Geschaft, das alte Rom aus dem
Note neuen herauszuklauben, aber man muLl es denn doch tun und zuletzt eine unschatzbare
Befriedigung hoffen. Man trifft Spuren einer Herrlichkeit und einer Zerstorung, die beide uber
un sere Begriffe gehen" (Goethe 1 976: 1 1 7).

Balanos, Nicolaos
References 1938 Les monuments de l'Acropole: Relevement et conservation. Paris: C. Massin.

Goethe, Johann Wolfgang von

1976 Italienische Reise. Ed. Jochen Golz. Berlin: Rutten and Loening.

Hansen, Hans-Ole
1982 Lejre Research Center. Lejre, Denmark: Lejre Historical·Archaeological Research Center.

ICOMOS (International Council of Monuments and Sites)

1 964, International Charterfor the Conservation and Restoration of Monuments and Sites.
1 965 Venice: ICOMOS.

Jorvik Viking Centre

1992 Guidebook. York, England: Jorvik Viking Centre.

Plimoth Plantation
1994 A Pictorial Guide. Plymouth, Mass.: Plimoth Plantation.

Reinerth, Hans
1 980 Pfahlbauten am Bodensee. 1 2th ed. Oberlingen: August Fexel.
 51

The Presentation of Archaeological Sites

Renee Sivan

VE R Y Y EA R , public interest in the archaeological heritage along

E with the ease of modern travel are bringing visitors to heritage

sites by the millions. In some places, in fact, the desire to attract
tourism has become one of the major driving forces behind the develop­
ment of such sites. At the same time, national and international authori­
ties, as well as concerned heritage professionals, are becoming increasingly
aware of the need to find new measures to preserve archaeological
remains. This necessity, as well as the need to make visitors' experiences
richer and more meaningful, has focused attention on the ways in which
historical sites are interpreted and presented to the visiting public.
Monumental archaeological sites, common in the Mediterranean
region, are often particularly impressive, attractive, and memorable. For
decades, reconstruction of ruins was thought to be a good method for
protecting physical remains and making sites understandable to visitors.
Unfortunately, all too often, expensive reconstruction was mainly the
expression of the planners' creativity and bore little connection to a site's
original form. While some of these reconstructions were no doubt intrigu­
ing, they did not always result in clear or accurate interpretations of the
historical evidence; today, many of them compromise the historical and
aesthetic integrity of the sites and raise important questions about infor­
mation that is being transmitted to visitors.
Despite the significance of some sites and despite the fascinating
histories associated with them, visitors can find their appearance disap­
pointing. Heritage professionals recognize that archaeological sites hold
historic data whose integrity must be respected and that neglecting their
conservation leaves them unprotected and subject to deterioration, decay,
and vandalism. In addition to providing important benefits to visitors, the
presentation and interpretation of sites are becoming accepted means of
conservation as well.
The presentation of a site should aim to bring history to life by
use of the remaining archaeological evidence. And, at the same time that
it portrays the reality of the past, the presentation should allow visitors to
grasp the effect of the passage of time by creating direct visual contact
with the site. In other words, the presentation should enable visitors to
52 S i van

become involved with, and to communicate with, the ruins and to gain a
sense of their meaning.
In his Travels in Hyperreality, Umberto Eco has pOinted out that,
while fakes lack historical authenticity, they can possess "visual reality,"
and that many people, regardless of "historical reality," believe that what
they can see is real. Some presentations, particularly those relying on
reconstruction, falsify archaeological reality. A reconstructed ruin does not
bring back the original structure; rather, it is a new, different-but very
"real"-modern creation. Without doubt, the more complete an architec­
tural structure, the more power and comprehensibility it has for the
viewer. But visitor impact and understanding are not the only considera­
tions in the presentation of a site, and these goals cannot be allowed to
override completely other factors. Heritage professionals have the addi­
tional obligation to protect the scientific value of the archaeological
record. The presentation of a site, therefore, should make it attractive,
visually stimulating, and thought provoking while maintaining historical
accuracy and respecting the integrity of the ruins.

Every site is unique, both in its present and past realities. The appropriate
Principles of Site
interpretation depends on the physical evidence that has survived. A suc­
Presentation cessful presentation that is accurate, sensitive, and attractive takes into
consideration the size of the site, its physical importance, and its aesthetic
value. A professional, after evaluating these elements, must make decisions
about the message that should be conveyed, the story that should be told,
and the methods that will best allow this to be achieved.
The optimal method of making a site hospitable and attractive is
to begin by considering it in its entirety. Its presentation can be enhanced
through the extensive use of the physical remains and the landscape that
surrounds them to communicate the site's human history. After all, sites
are the remains of societies that were real and alive; they are not simply
strata and ruined monuments-and in any case, most visitors are more
interested in human stories than in architectural history. The ruins are
reflections of political struggles, cultural fashions, technological skills,
artistic expressions, religious beliefs, and other aspects of human behavior.
The challenge of interpretation is to bring all this forth; to focus exclu­
sively on architectural elements would be to shortchange visitors by telling
them an incomplete story.
It is important to recognize that there is no such thing as an obj ec­
tive presentation: All presentations are based on interpretive choices, and
these choices combine to tell a story. It is up to the presentation profes­
sional, in consultation with other specialists, to select which particular
story will be told.
Indeed, most sites have more than one story to tell. In most cases,
the remains of a site favor the telling of one particular story, although
some important historical events have left no physical traces. In certain
instances, it might be possible to tell parallel stories, but care must be
taken not to confuse or overwhelm the visitor. Most visitors arrive at a site
 T H E P R E S E N TAT I O N O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 53

with limited knowledge of its history, and they spend a relatively short
period of time there.
The amount of information that the presentation conveys will
often depend on the size of the site and the relationship between the
physical remains and the history being told. A large site generally has
spaces that provide for an intermezzo in the tour, places where the visitor
can reflect and absorb the information provided. One such site is Beth
Shearim, an important Jewish necropolis from the third or fourth
century C.E. The large cemetery is composed of dozens of catacombs
containing carved or engraved Jewish symbols and Hebrew, Aramaic, and
Greek inscriptions, as well as hundreds of sarcophagi with pagan depic­
tions. In order to maintain the quiet atmosphere of a cemetery, no inter­
pretation is located inside the catacombs. Instead, in other places on the
site, subjects (such as the meaning of Jewish symbols) and themes (such
as pluralism and tolerance as reflected in a place where Jewish and pagan
motifs are found side by side) are developed for visitors. The interpretive
plaza is the first of a series of breaks provided for visitors; the presentation
contains metallic photographic presentations, models, and aluminum
panels as visitor guides (Fig. 1 ) .
Presentations should keep intervention o n the site t o a minimum,
keeping the remains as the principal "actors" rather than using them
simply as stage design. Some presentation techniques currently in fashion
can overwhelm the archaeological remains. One such technique, called
"reversible reconstruction," is intended to create an illusion of volume or
to hint at the original dimension of a structure with modern materials
such as textiles or metal. These creations can produce a stronger visual
impact than the original vestiges, and the visitor, who cannot help but
focus on the new structures, often overlooks the real site.
In contrast to this method, appropriate presentations allow the
remains to hold the focus of attention. Sometimes the re-erection of one
column in situ will suffice to communicate the scale of a temple. In other
instances, a properly positioned statue (or even a replica) can help visitors
imagine the entire environment.

Figure 1
Interpretive plaza at Beth Shearim, Israel, an
important Jewish necropolis from the third or
fourth century C.E. The interpretive plaza is
the first of a series of intermezzos provided
for visitors. There are metallic photographic
presentations, models, and aluminum panels
to inform visitors.
54 S i van

An intelligent treatment of the surroundings can also contribute

to the understanding of ruins. Many sites in the Mediterranean originally
contained substantial architectural structures of durable materials, such as
stone, and the elements that have survived the passage of time are found
scattered about. Sometimes simply creating clearings around key elements
that have remained in situ can assist visitors to visualize the original con­
tours and spaces of buildings. These visual definitions can be intensified by
differentiating interior from exterior spaces or by delineating rooms within
a structure, through the use in certain areas of materials different from
those found on the site, such as gravel. A site does not have to be trans­
formed for the desired message to be effectively conveyed.

The individual or group responSible for presentation will spend time

Methods of Site
studying it and will eventually possess a deep understanding of the site as
Presentation a whole. In contrast, most visitors arrive with little knowledge and under­
standing of the site. Along with choosing the story to be told and the
amount of information to be transmitted, presentation profeSSionals
should select methods and techniques that will convey a broad vision of
the archaeological space and its history.
Once the story has been selected, the site presenter must choose
the place and the means to tell it. Various locations on or near the site can
become the theater for the story. Likewise, there are many choices (and
more are becoming available daily through new technologies) for the
method or medium of presentation. The selection of location and methods
will depend on the site. Some sites with abundant remains do not lend
themselves eaSily to in situ interpretation, because signage or other appara­
tus could interfere with the ruins. One such site is Beth Shean, a biblical,
Roman-Byzantine site located in the Jordan valley (Fig. 2).
A visitors center, a place close to the site where information can be
made available, can be extremely helpful. Many techniques-animated films
and holograms or other three-dimensional interpretations-allow large
amounts of information to be communicated in clear and attractive ways.

Figure 2
Ruins at Beth Shean, Israel. The interpretive
model and signage, which are placed adjacent
to the ruins, do not intrude upon the visitors'
view of the ruins themselves. When such
presentations are located in such a way that
they are in direct dialogue with a site, they
can be very effective .
 T H E P R E S E N TAT I O N O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 55

A stop at such a center, however, should not substitute for the

visit to the site. Instead, presentations at the center should prepare the visi­
tor and provide sufficient information to make the contact with the actual
site more enj oyable. It is of little use to display models of houses, theaters,
or any other structures in the center unless the visitor at the same time
has a direct view of the site. If this arrangement is not possible, the time
elapsed between the viewing of such models at the center and a later con­
frontation with the original remains (which can often be disappointingly
meager) makes it difficult for the untrained visitor to put the information
to good use . In addition to being an opportunity to provide background
information, visitors centers can be seen as places where the site visit can
be planned. They should provide information about guided tours, routes
for independent touring, and other practical matters.
Once inside the archaeological area, visitors should be encouraged
to concentrate on the site itself. Certain sites, due to their size or nature,
can be easily interpreted with the help of pamphlets or audioguides. Clear
and well-edited pamphlets, with little text and many supporting images,
can act as effective mediators between visitors and the site. Information
can also be conveyed very effectively by means of well-designed interpre­
tive panels in situ, as long as they are unobtrusive, concise, and attrac­
tive-and not steeped in academic rhetoric.
Some presentation techniques can be used to suggest an environ­
ment through either visual elements or sound, and they can be employed
in areas of sites where there are few or no remains. These techniques can
stir the imaginations of visitors and generate a stream of associations: thus
they can arouse curiosity as well as enhance understanding. For example,
near the ruin of a church, synagogue, or mosque there might be the sound
of prayer; near an ancient fountain, that of running water.
In the past, three-dimensional presentations consisted mainly of
models of sites or edifices. Recent technological developments, however,
have enlarged the choice of methods to help visitors visualize the life of
an ancient site. These elements can convey detailed, even scholarly, infor­
mation, and they can do so without diminishing the authenticity of the
site, since they do not impinge upon the remains.
Effective methods include models, dioramas, and multimedia
presentations that evoke the atmosphere of the past, located in such a way
that they are in direct dialogue with the site. When these elements are
located close to a site instead of being isolated in a distant structure, visitors
are able to relate the information to what they are actually seeing, and that
information can assist them in visualizing the site at another time. These
techniques have the additional advantage of not requiring much written
text, so that visitors are free to concentrate on what is visible around them.
Such methods of visual presentation that evoke the ancient life of
a place can be seen at Avdat, an ancient site in the Negev Desert of Israel,
which has a long history of use. In order to re-create daily life during vari­
ous periods, Avdat is presented through a variety of methods, including
replicas, environmental sculptures, models, graphic panels, and interpre­
tive environments (Figs. 3-8). Since various stories are told in this large
and difficult site, with a long circuit and extreme temperatures, the use of
a variety of presentation methods maintains visitor interest.
56 Sivan

Figure 3 , right
Environmental sculptures, Avdat, Israel.
Avdat was founded by the Nabateans in the
fourth century B.C.E. as a way station on the
Spice Route from Arabia to the Mediterranean
port of Gaza. During the Byzantine period,
Avdat flourished; the city was fortified, and
churches were erected on the acropolis. The
inhabitants' main income was derived from
agriculture, primarily wine production. The
sculptural installation depicts a caravan
arriving at the city.

n:m l
WINE PRESS

Figure 4a, b
Wine press at Avdat. The environmental presenta­
tion, made of treated metal, at the left in the
overview (a), and the interpretive panels (b), made
of artificial stone, require no maintenance.

a b

Figure 5 a ,
Church of Saint Theodore, Avdat. The inter­
pretive model of the original structure of the
church is located in situ so that the visitor can
find references between it and the remains of
the original structure (a). The model (b) is
made of bronze, to discourage theft and van­
dalism and to minimize maintenance.
 T H E P R E S E N TAT I O N O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 57

Figure 6
Wine cellar cave, Avdat. Cement replicas
simulating pottery are used in places where
ancient jars were found during excavation.

Figure 7

Environmental presentation at the wine mer­

chant's house, Avdat. In some instances, there
was insufficient material evidence to tell a
given story. Only literary sources, and some­
times anachronistic ones, were available for
the early period of the Nabateans. An artist
was commissioned to create interpretive,
humoristic sculptures.

Figure 8
Environmental presentation at Avdat, depict­
ing a goatherd and his charges.

Dioramas or multimedia presentations can also provide answers

to the many questions that puzzle visitors to archaeological sites. Not all
visitors are interested in physical features, methods of construction, or
architectural styles; in fact, many want to know the original function of
the structures and how the ancient residents went about their daily lives.
58 S ivan

After all, humans like to learn about their own kind rather than commune
with mute stones.
Interpretive presentations designed primarily to illuminate the
activities of the ancient inhabitants can be seen at Tel Dan, a biblical
archaeological site located in Upper Galilee (Figs. 9-1 1 ) . Other possibilities
are presented when sites are sheltered; in such instances, obj ects or repli­
cas can be used particularly effectively. However, while it is true that more
techniques can be used on these sites than in open-air ones, such presenta­
tions must still be carefully planned and deSigned. Displaying obj ects in
the precise location in which they were discovered can illustrate the
process of excavation, but the practice is not an effective way to interpret
the past. Objects or replicas can instead be used to hint at the original
function or character of the spaces (Figs. 6, 12). However, the presentation
of finds in display cases tends to transform a site into an exhibition hall

Figure 9

Interpretive panel at the main gate, Tel Dan,

Israel. This Canaanite royal city was one of
the first Israelite settlements in Canaan; it
served as an important ceremonial site from
the ninth to the seventh century S.C.E. The
only information available to assist in inter­
pretation of the site consists of narrative pas­
sages from the Bible. The panel, made of
metal, incorporates relevant biblical texts.

Figure 1 0
Stainless steel reconstruction of the altar,
Tel Dan.
 T H E P R E S E N TAT I O N O F A R C H A E O L O G I C A L S I T E S 59

and-if the material remains uninterpreted-can convey little historical

information.
Sites often have large spaces with few or no remains; these places
are particularly suited for more creative activities. Some activities include
opportunities for visitors to try their hands at ancient craft or production
techniques associated with the site.
In spite of the wealth of techniques available today, there are sites
that do not lend themselves easily to interpretation-and yet they might
have an important story to tell. In such instances, theatrical guides can be
effective. Guides can represent the historical period presented; in other
cases groups of actors can be stationed along various parts of the visitors'
route, reenacting events related to the site. In contrast to traditional tour
guides, theatrical guides do not recount the history of a site or explain
ruins; instead, they generally speak from ancient texts or deliver addresses
that evoke ancient times.
The methods discussed above are just a few examples of the possi­
bilities for presenting and interpreting an archaeological site. The available
solutions are as wide-ranging as human imagination and creativity, and
new technologies are continually increasing the choices. Even so, regard­
Figure 1 1 less of technology, creativity, and innovation, a presentation should not
Housing for holograms, Tel Dan. The relevant impinge upon the integrity of a site. It is important not only to interpret
biblical narrative passages (see Fig. 9) were
the past but also to protect the archaeological heritage, leaving it intact
not considered sufficient to explain to visitors
the importance of a site that does not have for the benefit of future generations.
any prominent archaeological features other
than a large stone bema that was used for
sacrifice. Th;s installation, located next to
the altar, houses a hologram that illustrates
the rites thought to have been performed at
the altar.

Figure 1 2
Restored room in the Herodian Quarter of
the Old City, Jerusalem. This Old City site
encompasses a residential quarter from the
Herodian period, which extended from the
first century S.C.E. to the first century C.E. In
addition to the original mosaic floor, the
restored room contains some reconstructed
furniture and objects that were found in situ.
PA R T T W O

Three
Mediterranean
Sites
 63

Introduction to Part Two

U R I N G T H E C O U R S E of the conference, the organizers arranged

D visits to three archaeological sites. These were chosen to give the

participants opportunities to consider specific issues relating to
the challenges of management and conservation at complex heritage sites.
The places selected-Piazza Armerina, Knossos, and Ephesus-represent
a range of scientific, aesthetic, historical, and social values. All three loca­
tions have acquired considerable economic value by attracting large num­
bers of visitors. Decisions made over time have, intentionally or not, given
priority to certain values, and the results of the decisions are reflected in
many features of the sites as they are now presented to visitors. During
the conference, the sites were not held up for evaluation but served instead
as examples to provoke thought and discussion about various ways to
resolve significant issues.
As the conference progressed and as the group traveled from
Piazza Armerina to Knossos to Ephesus, the issues under discussion
become more numerous and intricate, reflecting the increasing complexity
of the sites. Piazza Armerina is the location of an important Roman villa,
where the conservation and presentation of the magnificent mosaics have
been given priority in many management decisions; other features, there­
fore, have played a less prominent role in the presentation. Knossos pre­
sents an interesting case of a site reconstructed according to the vision of
one archaeologist. It is now recognized that some of the conjectures that
guided that work early in the century were erroneous and that some of
the interventions are adversely affecting the condition of the original
remains. The reconstruction itself, however, has acquired historical value
and now ranks as an element of significance in the management of the
site. The urban site of Ephesus is among the most important in the
Mediterranean region; as such, its Significance is determined by a vast
array of values-scientific and aesthetic, as well as social. Still under exca­
vation, it is visited by more than one million tourists every year. The
management of a site of this magnitude is a complicated undertaking that
must address in a balanced way the preservation of all the elements that
make the site important.
64

Before each site visit during the conference, participants prepared

for the experience by attending an illustrated presentation by an archaeolo­
gist on the Getty staff. Each presentation included an account of the main
values of the site, a brief history of modern interventions, and a discus­
sion of some of the management issues created by current conditions. In
each case particular issues were selected to illustrate some of the most
common challenges faced by site managers. These presentations are repre­
sented by the following articles.
 65

The Roman Villa at Piazza Armerina, Sicily

Nicholas Stanley-Price

H E L A T E R O M A N V I L L A of Piazza Armerina in Sicily is particu­

T larly known for its outstanding mosaic floors. Few general surveys
of Roman art and architecture published in the past thirty years
fail to mention the villa. All guidebooks to Sicily and much of the
promotional material for the island's tourism direct the visitor toward
this attraction.
The site is at the locality known as Casale in central southern
Sicily, some four kilometers southwest of the historic town of Piazza
Armerina. At an elevation of 550 meters above sea level, the Villa del
Casale lies at the foot of low hills that are immediately to its north and
east. To the north, the valley of the Nociara River provides some flatland
where it emerges from the hills, but only to the south and southwest does
the landscape open out into extensive vistas of good arable land.
Most of the remains visible today at the Casale site belong to a
late Roman villa constructed probably during the period of 300-330 C.E.
(Ampolo et al. 1 97 1 ; Kahler 1 973). The villa had been preceded by an
earlier villa (known as the Villa Rustica) of the first and second
centuries C.E. Remains have recently been found that indicate an inter­
mediate phase between these two historical episodes, dated to a period
between the second and fourth centuries (De Miro 1 988).
Philological evidence appears to link the Roman town site of
Philosophiana, mentioned in the Antonine Itinerary as a way station on the
Catania-Agrigento road, and the Roman remains found at the locality still
known as Sofiana, located six kilometers south of the villa (Adamesteanu
1 988). The Villa del Casale has been linked in turn to the existence of this
way station on the principal Roman road in the area.
It is not known how long the Roman villa of the fourth century
remained in use. Ceramics of the Byzantine, Arab, and Norman periods
have been found on the site, together with, in places, associated building
remains. Since the main excavations (by G. V Gentili) have never been
fully published and since the excavator devoted most of his attention to
the Roman mosaics, it has been necessary to reconstruct the nature of
post-Roman occupation on the site from the few reports available and
66 S tanley - Price

from more recent, limited excavations (Ampolo et al. 1 9 7 1 ; Wilson 1 983;

De Miro 1 988).
Some reuse of the Roman buildings seems to be attested for the
Arabo-Norman period (eleventh to thirteenth centuries), and stray finds
suggest activity at the site in the Aragon period (fifteenth to seventeenth
centuries). Other finds date from the eighteenth century, by which time
the Roman remains are being reported by antiquarians (e.g. , Leanti 1 76 1 ) .
Some o f the Roman villa's walls survive today u p t o a height o f about
eight meters, and they have probably always been exposed, even if
obscured by woodland and vegetation.
The nonorthogonal plan of the villa is not unusual for large
Roman villas (Fig. 1 ) . It has been explained as the result of a single concep­
tion with a vanishing point off-site to the north (Ampolo et al. 1 9 7 1 :
plan B ) o r a s the result o f organization, intentional o r not, "around a
generalized radial composition of strongly focal character" (MacDonald
1 986:274). The ground rises gradually from west to east; the basilica is at
the highest point of the excavated area (Fig. 1 , no. 58).
The official visitor would presumably have arrived at the monu­
mental entrance of three arches (no. l l a) and, gradually ascending, would
have passed through the courtyard (no. 1 1 b), the entrance vestibule (no.
1 3 a), the main peristyle (no. 1 9), and the great corridor (no. 36b), finally
reaching the basilica (no. 58) (Settis 1 975) .
The villa, built as a single-story building, was constructed
primarily of mortared rubble walls faced with irregular pieces of local
brownstone. The great majority of excavated floor surfaces consisted of
mosaic pavements, half of them figured. The floor of the basilica, in
contrast, had a magnificent decoration in opus sectile, while the open
courtyards were often paved with brick (see Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos
1 982:pl. 32, for the distribution of different types of floor surfaces through­
out the site). It is estimated that some thirty-five-hundred square meters
of mosaics have been uncovered at the site. In addition, although scarcely
mentioned by the main excavator, almost all rooms in the villa buildings
had either marble facings or painted frescoes on their walls. Marble
statuary would have served as additional decorative elements, but little
has survived.

The site of Piazza Armerina has been and continues to be the subject of
Significance of the Villa at
numerous scholarly studies because of the many unanswered questions
Piazza Armerina about its original owner and precise function. Moreover, with the massive
increase in tourism since the Second World War, the site of Piazza
Armerina has become widely known to a lay audience. Because of its con­
tinuing fascination for scholars and the steadily increasing flow of visitors
that it receives, Piazza Armerina presents a number of issues of general
relevance for the conservation and management of ancient sites.
The villa has a number of values that together constitute its wider
significance. These values can be broadly classified into the categories of
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 67

Oval
peristyle
C;

0 46 �

"
::

Original entrance

10

"New excavations"

: ::
. :=::::::
.
': ' :::: :: .
" • . ;J
to::-.

12
,::
- ,:
. :.':.':.. .. .
....... .II'
:::: ::: ::: ..
: .
�
.. " - '" ./
;.

.:. -!,,/
'
' - " '::
::::: :::.::
::: :.

3. Dressing room in baths 21. Entrance hall to baths 46. Oval peristyle
4. Baths frigidarium 22-26. Service rooms 57. Three-apsed hall
1 1a. Original entrance 27-30. Residential apartments 58. Basilica
l Ib. Entrance courtyard 33-34. Service rooms 59b. Latrine
13a. Entrance vestibule 36. Great corridor 35. Triclinium
14. Latrine 37-39. Apartment of domina
19. Main peristyle 40-45. Apartment of dominus

Figure 1
Plan of the villa at Piazza Armerina (after Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1982). Site elements are

designated numerically; the functions of selected elements are listed in the key above.
68 S tanley-Price

( 1 ) historical, (2) aesthetic, (3) scientific, and (4) social and symbolic. The
site has also, of course, an economic value and an educational value;
these, it might be argued, are derived values, since they depend on those
already listed.

Historical value

While the historical value of the Piazza Armerina villa lies partly in its
floor mosaics, its primary importance is its contribution to the understand­
ing of late Roman society in SiCily and the Roman Empire. The mosaics
constitute one of the largest and most complete series of mosaic floors
extant in a late Roman villa (Figs. 2, 3 ) . The subjects depicted provide
extensive information about contemporary activities such as hunting and
the capture and transport of large animals to the entertainment venues of
Rome. In the themes depicted and in the conventions used, they provide
important parallels with mosaics found in North Africa. The discoveries at
Piazza Armerina are a prime reference point for the student of Roman
floor mosaics.
When the villa was first excavated extensively, its size and wealth
were quite unexpected for the late Roman period in Sicily. Its value as a
unique discovery survived until the excavation, in the 1970s, of two other
Roman villas in Sicily. The villas at Patti on the north coast and at Tellaro,
south of Syracuse, have proved to be of similar dimensions to that of Piazza
Figu r e 2, below
Armerina and to have equally fine mosaic floors (Voza 1976-77, 1980-8 1 ) .
Detail from the Labors of Hercules mosaic in
The uniqueness o f Piazza Armerina led t o arguments i n earlier
the three-apsed hall (see color plate I d).
scholarship for an imperial ownership of the villa (e.g. , Settis 1 975), and
Figure 3, below right if this were the case, its historical value would be exceptional. Following
Detail from the Great Hunt mosaic in the great the other villa discoveries in Sicily, however, the ownership of Piazza
corridor. The figure at the lower left has been
Armerina is now more often attributed to a Roman of senatorial rank
interpreted as the emperor or the owner of
the villa, flanked by two attendants (see color (e.g. , Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1 982). Nevertheless, the existence of a
plate I C). villa as sumptuous as Piazza Armerina in late Roman SiCily-whatever its
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z Z A A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 69

ownership-was previously unsuspected, and its discovery has required a

reinterpretation of the history of this province and its place in the Roman
Empire of the time.
Also of historical importance is the philological evidence for con­
necting the Roman settlement at the locality called Sofiana, south of the
villa, with the Philosophiana of the Antonine Itinerary. If this link is valid,
and if the villa at Piazza Armerina can be related in the same way, as
Carandini's study Filosofiana proposes, then the villa's existence is
grounded in historical records (Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1 982).

Aesthetic value

The villa of Piazza Armerina has strong aesthetic value that derives from
its location and from the beauty of the mosaic floors. The immediate envi­
ronment of the villa is unexpectedly verdant, even in summer, for this area
of inland Sicily (Fig. 4). The hills that rise above the site from the north­
east to the northwest form part of the southern extremity of the Heraean
range, which in antiquity was covered in oak forests, as was noted by the
classical author Diodorus Siculus (4.84 . 1 ) . Today the hills are covered with
pine, and cypress, oak, eucalyptus, alder, and hazel species are common
around the site. The setting, with its wooded hills, shaded valleys, and
rich, arable lands to the south, led Cesare Brandi to write of its ''Arcadian
beauty," reminiscent more of Tuscany than of Sicily (Brandi 1 956).
The villa is best known for its beautiful mosaic floors (Figs. 2, 3).
Found in relatively good condition, many floors have been lifted and reset,
and lacunae have been integrated with ancient tesserae. As a result, for
the most part, the floors present complete images for the visitor to
appreciate and enjoy.
The protective enclosures erected over the ruins of the villa were
designed not only to protect the mosaic floors but also to enhance their
aesthetic appeal within an enclosed space. The enclosures, because they

Figure 4
Setting of the villa and its protective enclo­
sures, seen from the southwest. The location
of the villa at the foot of wooded hills is an
important aesthetic value of the site.
70 S t anley-Price

are translucent, allow the verdant surroundings of the site to be glimpsed

from inside, thus associating the villa's internal functions with the external
world. The design also aimed to convey an impression of the original
internal volumes of the Roman structure, thus stimulating the visitor's
appreciation of how the villa must once have looked to its occupants.

Scientific value

The villa continues to be the obj ect of numerous scholarly studies as to its
original ownership, its historical development, its architecture, and its
mosaic floor decoration. Several monographs (Kahler 1 973; Carandini,
Ricci, and De Vos 1 982), many articles, and a number of symposia (e.g.,
Garraffo 1 988) have been dedicated to its study.
These studies reflect both the historic and the scientific value of
the villa. The challenges for preservation presented by the excavated villa
have given rise to additional scientific investigations. Studies on methods
of flood control and on the interior microclimate of the enclosures have
been carried out at the villa (Bartolotte and Caputo 1 9 9 1 ) . The villa also
provides an instructive example of the evolution of techniques used in the
preservation of floor mosaics since the 1 940s, from traditional restoration
practices to modern approaches involving documentation, materials analy­
sis, and reversible treatments.

Social and symbolic values

The social and symbolic value of the villa at Piazza Armerina lies princi­
pally in the beauty of the mosaics as a source of pride to local inhabitants
and to Sicilians in general. The town of Piazza Armerina announces itself
as the "Citta dei Mosaici," and the local tourism office promotes the villa's
mosaics as one of the area's principal attractions. There is, of course, an
economic value to the site, in the form of tourism revenue to the local
community. This factor should not be overemphasized, however, since most
of the tourism is transient, and many visitors include the site as part of a
day's excursion without spending time (and therefore money) in the town
of Piazza Armerina. Even so, the local sale of souvenirs with motifs from
the mosaics is a well-developed business. At the regional level, as a tourist
attraction, Piazza Armerina joins other sites in Sicily such as Agrigento,
Selinunte, and Segesta in the promotional literature and other media.
Another important social value lies in the depiction of Roman life
and leisure in the mosaic floors of the villa. Nonspecialist visitors can
immediately identify with many of the scenes represented-the "bikini
girls" mosaic being only the most obvious example. Whatever the relation­
ship between today's reality and that of the Roman past, the visitor's ten­
dency to associate the two suggests an empathy with the past that is the
first step toward an enhanced appreciation of the cultural heritage .
Since values are ascribed to places rather than being inherent in
them, a list of values of the Roman villa at Piazza Armerina would have
been different if drawn up forty years ago by those concerned with the
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 71

excavation and preservation of the remains. The difference in point of

view is highlighted below in the discussion of issues raised by interven­
tions at the villa. Moreover, the solutions adopted for protection of the
villa have at times revealed a conflict, or at least an incompatibility,
between the values that were to be preserved.

The villa has been subject to a series of interventions (excavation, restora­

History of Interventions
tion, protection) since its modern rediscovery (see chronological outline,
p. 74) . The maj or part of the remains of the villa visible today were exca­
vated by Cultrera and Gentili in the 1940s and 1 950s. Efforts to protect the
excavated remains started with the reburial policy followed by Pappalardo
in 1 8 8 1 and then evolved toward the erection of protective roofs and
enclosures over remains left visible after excavation (Pappalardo
1 88 1 : 1 73 ff.). Modern interventions have consisted of small-scale excava­
tions (to resolve specific questions raised by earlier investigations) and of
conservation work that addressed problems caused by earlier treatments
and by a natural disaster, the flooding of the site in 1 99 1 .
In 1 8 8 1 Pappalardo appears to have begun excavations in areas
where ancient walls were visible above ground level: the entrance gate
(Fig. 1 , no. l l a), the basilica (no. 58), and the three-apsed hall (no. 57). A
trench was also opened in the oval peristyle (no. 46). Pappalardo's decision
to dig in the area of the three-apsed hall was determined by reports of
buried mosaics previously discovered and destroyed by treasure hunters.
A four-by-four-meter trench in the southeast corner of the central hall
(no. 5 7a) uncovered part of the Labors of Hercules mosaic at a depth of
2 . 1 0 meters.
Suspecting the presence of a late Roman villa, Orsi dedicated two
years ( 1 929-30) to the Villa del Casale in an attempt to explain the pres­
ence of the large-scale mosaics uncovered by Pappalardo. Orsi and Carta
reopened and enlarged the Pappalardo trench in the three-apsed hall,
uncovering an eight-by-eight-meter area of the Labors of Hercules mosaic
(Orsi 1 934).
In 1 935 new funding made it possible for Cultrera to launch a
new proj ect of excavation aimed at gradually uncovering the villa that was
now proved to exist and leaving the remains permanently exposed. After
three campaigns ( 1 935-3 7), which lowered the level of the archaeological
deposit by five meters without producing immediate results, Cultrera, in
1 93 8-40, completely exposed the floor plan of the three-apsed hall. In
1 940-43 he went on to uncover the eastern half of the oval peristyle
(Fig. 1, no. 46), as well as rooms 49 and 36c and the walls of room 3 5 . At
the same time, having decided on visible preservation of the mosaics,
Cultrera had Piero Gazzola design and erect a roof over the three-apsed
hall (Gentili 1966:pl. 1 ; Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1 982:endpapers).
In 1942-43 the mosaics in the three-apsed hall (now roofed) were
restored. Most sections were lifted, set on new cement bases, and fixed to
the floor with numerous iron pins. Lacunae were filled in with cement,
72 S ta n l ey - Price

and the mosaics were cleaned with pumice. However, several of the lifted
mosaics were not replaced in situ for lack of funds. Severe problems
involving loss of cohesion of the tesserae had been caused by visitors and
guides throwing hydrochloric acid on the mosaics to remove encrustation
and make them more legible (Bernabo Brea 1947). Conservation work on
the mosaics continued from 1 942 to 1949, although it was interrupted in
1 943 with the landing of the Allies in Sicily. The Allied Military Command,
through its Subcommission on Monuments, Fine Arts, and Archives, made
the continuation of the work possible in 1944.
The extensive excavations by Gentili started in 1950, when he
uncovered most of the south wing of the villa, taking advantage of
Cultrera's having lowered the level of the archaeological deposit. The
renewed work at the site was this time at the initiative of the Comune of
Piazza Armerina, with public funding from the regional government of
Figu r e 5 , below Sicily. Gentili then moved north to expose the remaining part of the villa
Entrance vestibule and peristyle of the villa
as seen today (Figs. 5, 6). While the first plan of the completely exposed
before the construction of the enclosures. The
villa was published by Gentili in 1956, it is dated 1 953-which gives an idea
wooden planks served as walkways to protect
the mosaics. of how fast Gentili cleared the archaeological deposit covering the north
section of the villa (Gentili 1956).
Figure 6, below right Since Gentili's excavations, two attempts have been made to
South wing of the central peristyle after the
recover stratigraphie information to further the understanding of the
re-erection of columns and before the con­
struction of the protective enclosures. The occupation sequence on the Casale site. In 1970 Carandini opened several
peristyle garden has since been replanted. test trenches in the main peristyle, baths, and basilica and managed to date
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 73

securely the construction of the late Roman villa to 300-320 C.E. All previ­
ous structures had been leveled to prepare the site for the new palatial villa
built on four different levels. The bath complex was built on the same
alignment as a previous bath building belonging to the first-century Villa
Rustica or to a second-century phase of it (Ampolo et al. 1 9 7 1 ) .
The second series o f renewed excavations was carried out
between 1 983 and 1988 by the Soprintendenza Archeologica of Agrigento,
directed by Ernesto De Miro and Graziella Fiorentini. They provided firm
evidence for the phases of occupation before and after the construction of
the late imperial villa (De Miro 1988).
The renewed excavations by Carandini in 1970 were undertaken
within the villa's core area, where the protective enclosures designed by
architect Franco Minissi were already in place. Minissi's protective enclo­
sures, still present today, consist of a lightweight metal skeleton sheathed
with translucent panels of plastic (Fig. 7). J Minissi aimed "to form anew
Figure 7
Aerial view of the villa from the southwest, (not reconstruct) the room-areas corresponding to the different mosaics"
showing the extent of the protective enclo­ using only material that was obviously new. His intent was to protect the
sures. The large roof in the center back­ mosaics from the weather while retaining maximum light and enabling visi­
ground (covering the basilica), deliberately
tors to see all the mosaics without walking upon them (Minissi 1961 : 1 3 1) .
omitted in Minissi's design, was not built until
1 977. The line of an aqueduct cuts the slope Since the erection o f the protective enclosures i n the late 1950s,
of the hill above the villa buildings. conservation interventions have addressed maintenance and materials
74 S tanley-Price

Chronological outline o f use, rediscovery, and

modern intervention for the Roman Villa del 1 88 1 L . Pappalardo digs for mosaics i n area o f three-apsed hall (Fig. 1 , no. 57) and
Casale at Piazza Armerina. Excluded are at main entrance (no. l l a). Trenches backfilled. Pappalardo makes report to
ancient interventions, such as repairs to Comune of Piazza Armerina (Pappalardo 1 88 1 ) .
mosaic floors, and the reuse in Norman times
of Roman structures, as well as antiquarian 1929-30 P. Orsi and R . Carta excavate three-apsed hall (no. 5 7 ) and a necropolis on
references to the presumed site of the villa. Mount Mangone, immediately to the north of the villa. Much publicity given
to mosaic finds, which are reburied (Orsi 1934).

1 935-45 G. Cultrera completes clearance of three-apsed hall, oval peristyle (no. 46),
and part of corridor (no. 36c). P. Gazzola erects protective roof over three­
apsed hall. Mosaics lifted and restored (Cultrera 1 936, 1940; Bernabo
Brea 1 947).

1 950-54 G. V Gentili clears rest of villa that is visible today. Long report on first
two campaigns (Gentili 1950, 1 952a, 1 952b); otherwise most of work
unpublished. Further mosaic consolidation; columns re-erected and restored.

1 95 7-60 F. Minissi constructs protective enclosure and walkways; some wall

rebuilding required. All mosaics after restoration protected with roofs.
Basilica (no. 58) remains exposed. Artificial lighting system installed. Site
opened to visitors (Minissi 1 961).

1 970 C. Ampolo, A. Carandini, G. Pucci, and P. Pensabene excavate test trenches

to retrieve stratigraphic data (Ampolo et al. 1971).

1 972 E. De Miro and F. Minissi propose site museum in town of Piazza Armerina
(not realized) (De Miro and Minissi 1 972). Soprintendente G. Voza
undertakes conservation measures: upslope water diversion channel;
substitution of deteriorated material on Minissi's protective roof
(Soprintendenza 1 994).

1 977 Soprintendenza undertakes roofing of basilica (omitted by Minissi)

(Soprintendenza 1994).

1 982-88 Soprintendenza improves site drainage; substitutes materials on Minissi's

protective roof (Soprintendenza 1994).

1983-88 Soprintendenza conducts "new excavations" in 1983 (E. De Miro) and in

1 986-88 (G. Fiorentini) in area southwest of villa entrance, to check villa
phases. 1983 campaign published (De Miro 1 988).

1 987 Regional conservation center, Palermo, makes proposals for mosaics

conservation (Soprintendenza 1994).

1991 Regional conservation center, Palermo, conducts study of microclimatic

conditions at site (Bartolotte and Caputo 1991). Soprintendenza conducts
emergency treatment of mosaics, wall paintings, and opus sectile floor
following flood of villa due to poor drainage (Scognamiglio 1 992a, 1 992b;
Soprintendenza 1 994).

1 992 Soprintendenza conducts conservation project on villa wall paintings

(Soprintendenza 1 994).

1993-95 Soprintendenza conserves opus sectile floor of basilica and mosaics in three­
apsed hall and other rooms of villa.
 T H E R O M A N V I L L A AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 75

replacement for the enclosures, deterioration of the mosaic floors and wall
paintings, and damage caused by flooding (see chronological outline, p. 74).
The most urgent intervention followed the extensive flooding of
the villa site on 13 October 199 1 , when exceptionally heavy rains through­
out southern Italy caused widespread damage. The whole villa was inun­
dated with water and mud to a depth of up to half a meter. The regional
conservation center in Palermo undertook emergency cleaning of the
mosaics and submitted a report with wide-ranging recommendations for
improving site drainage, for documenting all previous interventions, for
consolidating the mosaics, and for removing the protective enclosures
because of the adverse micro climates they created (Scognamiglio 1 992a,
1992b). Some of these recommendations concerning the mosaics and wall
paintings have since been implemented.

The various interventions (excavation, conservation, protection, and so

Issues Raised by the
on) over the past one hundred years have raised a number of issues. These,
Interventions or similar issues, are relevant to a large number of archaeological sites in
the Mediterranean region. Many of these issues can be classified into four
problem areas: ( 1 ) distortion of our understanding of an ancient site by
the dominant research interests of previous investigators; (2) the protec­
tion of mosaics in situ through roofing; (3) the design of translucent
enclosure buildings for ancient remains; and (4) the design of visitor itiner­
aries that-while compatible with conservation obj ectives-successfully
inform the visitor.

Distortion of our understanding of an ancient site by the

dominant research interests of previous investigators

Helped by the clearance of the deep overlying deposit by the preceding

excavator, Cultrera, Gentili was able to expose a large series of outstand­
ing floor mosaics in a relatively short time. As a result, the villa at Piazza
Armerina has become famous to scholars and visitors alike for its mosaics.
For both groups, however, the excavator's concentration on the floor
mosaics resulted in the loss of most of the ancillary information that
would assist in understanding their context. A scholarly publication of
the many campaigns of excavation work has not appeared; nor are most
of the movable finds from the excavations available for study.
The site of the Villa del Casale is usually viewed today as a single­
phase Roman villa-whereas it is known that it featured several phases of
occupation and reoccupation into the medieval period. Reconstructions
(from reports and visible remains on site) of the subsequent phases of
occupation (Wilson 1983 :fig. 23) show how much was discarded during the
leveling of the archaeological deposit to reach the mosaic floors.
One central issue raised by the main excavations at the villa is
the importance of documenting and publishing all excavated material and
subsequent interventions. While records of earlier interventions are today
76 S tanley - Price

often found to be inadequate, it is nevertheless necessary to understand

the climate of thought regarding scholarship and preservation that
prevailed at the time. It is also important to retrieve as much information
as possible that was overlooked in the past because of research priorities
that differed from those of today; Carandini and coworkers have done
this for the villa (Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1 982). Since knowledge
about sites and historical information evolve over time, visitors to
ancient sites must be told how information about them is acquired
and how the visible remains might present a picture that does not
reflect past realities.

Protection of mosaics in situ through roofing

The roof erected over the three-apsed hall in 1 9 4 1 -42 consisted of a

wooden frame covered with clay tiles supported by massive brick pillars
(Fig. 8) (Gentili 1 966:pl. 1 ; Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1 982: endpapers).
The curvilinear walls of the building were restored in part to help
support the new pillars. The design was later criticized by Cesare Brandi,
who thought it made what should be a sumptuous room look like a
hayloft. The visitors could see the mosaics only by walking on them or
by climbing a wooden observation tower built at the entrance to the
shelter (Brandi 1956). Gazzola's roof covered the outstanding mosaics of
the three-apsed hall, but with the continuation of excavations, many
more mosaics were exposed and required protection.
The construction of Gazzola's roof in the 1 940s raises
important questions concerning the protection of floor mosaics in situ.
Figure 8 How can protective roofs or shelters be designed to protect mosaics from
Protective roof (in background) constructed the weather while also allowing them to be easily seen? C an a new roof
over the three-apsed hall in 1941-42 by Piero
be designed that does not have an adverse aesthetic impact on the site­
Gazzola. The roof was later demolished when
by dominating the landscape, for instance?
Minissi"s protective enclosures were built in
the late 1 950s. The mosaic floors are covered Furthermore, when continued excavation reveals many
with sand for protection. additional areas requiring protection, the first roof erected may need
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I NA , S I C I LY 77

Figure 9
Protective enclosure of the vestibule seen
from the northwest. Wall panels of sheet
glass, which have replaced the original corru­
gated plastic sheathing material, have encour­
aged heat buildup.

Figure 1 0
Protective enclosure over the three-apsed
hall. The original corrugated plastic sheathing
material has been replaced with sheet glass.
The false ceiling can be clearly seen (cf. Fig. 12).

to be reconsidered or even demolished (as was the case with Gazzola's

roof) . Should "first" roofs be deliberately designed to be low in cost and
easily dismantled?

Design of translucent enclosure buildings

for ancient remains

The protective enclosure buildings designed by Minissi were intended

to protect the mosaics while also allowing visitors optimal viewing
(Figs. 9, 10) (Stanley-Price and Ponti 1 996). These separate aims required
some compromises in the design that allowed the reconciliation of tech­
nical conservation requirements and aesthetic considerations.
On the conservation side, in order to avoid the potential heat prob­
lem (a "greenhouse effect") posed by a translucent structure in the Sicilian
78 S ta n l ey - Price

Figure 1 1 , a b ove
Glass louvers for ventilation of the protective
enclosures. The louvers are one of a series of
measures for reducing heat buildup inside the
protective enclosures. These measures have
had only partial success.

Figure 1 2 , right
False ceiling made of plastic panels,
designed to help reduce heat buildup. These
ceilings also suggest the original internal
volumes of the rooms of the villa, as seen
here in the octagonal frigidarium in the baths
(Fig. 1, no. 4). climate, Minissi proposed to air-condition the structure; no funds were
available, however, to implement this proposal. Despite a number of design
features to reduce heat transmission (Figs. 1 1 , 12), the heat buildup inside
the two enclosures (the main peristyle area and the separate three-apsed
hall enclosure) can at times be intense. The resulting high temperatures can
be intolerable to visitors, who have been known to faint.
As for the archaeological remains, the absolute high values and,
especially, the daily and seasonal fluctuations of temperature and relative
humidity are likely to contribute to deterioration (Scognamiglio 1992b).
Even so, it can be argued that the villa's mosaics are in much better
condition today, after forty years of enclosure, than if they had been left
exposed to the elements.
From the point of view of aesthetic presentation, Minissi's
design aimed to convey an impression to visitors of the interior
volumes of rooms containing mosaics and to allow visitors to see the
mosaics without walking on them. The use of a translucent enclosure
material led to the problem of shadows falling across the mosaics, despite
measures taken by Minissi to avoid this effect (Fig. 1 3 ) . Moreover, the
translucent material allows plenty of natural light to illuminate the
mosaics-arguably much more than they would have originally received.
The strong natural illumination of the mosaics and the system of walk­
ways enabling the spectator to gaze downward at them appear to be so
successful that few visitors look upward at the recreated volumes of the
enclosure building (Fig. 14).
 T H E R O M A N V I L L A AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 79

Figure 1 3 , a b ove The translucent enclosures at Piazza Armerina raise questions

Shadows cast by the corrugated plastic side
regarding conservation, cost, and aesthetics. From the conservation point
panels installed by Minissi in the 1 950s.
of view, the risk of creating a greenhouse effect by enclosing ancient
Minissi aimed to provide maximum light for
viewing of the mosaics and to avoid the cast· remains within a translucent structure is a serious one. In exacerbating
ing of shadows on them. His solution was not temperature and relative humidity fluctuations, this type of solution can
fully successful. The consolidated wall that
promote cycles of expansion and contraction of materials (potentially dam­
supports the visitor walkway can also be seen.
aging particularly where original and new materials are in contact) and

Figure 1 4, a b ove right

cycles of crystallization and dissolution of soluble salts. This risk can be
Metal walkways that allow visitors to view the attenuated by the installation of well-designed climate control systems. The
mosaics without walking on them. These costs of climate control need to be considered along with the replacement
walkways-installed in the 1950s-are still in
costs of the materials of the protective structure (in this case, plastics).
use today and cannot easily accommodate
As for aesthetics, this type of solution offers opportunities to
large numbers of visitors at peak periods. The
false ceiling above and the sheet glass wall design a structure that is aesthetically compatible with the environment of
panels filter the midmorning sun unevenly. the ancient remains and that re-creates some idea of the original volumes
of the enclosed spaces. The solution employed at the villa raises other
important questions concerning appropriate light levels for viewing
ancient mosaic floors and the best way for mosaics to be seen without
being walked upon. These questions-which essentially ask whether the
modern visitor experience should mimic original conditions of the' site­
are further developed below.

Design of visitor itineraries that-while compatible with

conservation obj ectives-successfully inform the visitor

The system of raised walkways, which rest upon the consolidated wall
tops of the villa's rooms, enables visitors to see all the mosaics without
walking upon them (Fig. 14). The protective enclosure suggests to some
extent the original interior volumes of the rooms containing mosaics,
though it is uncertain whether many visitors appreciate this point (Fig. 1 5).
80 S tanley - Price

Figure 1 5
Supports o f the protective enclosures
designed to suggest the interior volumes of
the original building (see also Fig. 14). Here,
at the northwest angle of the main peristyle,
the support also represents the form of a col­
umn capital. Minissi's aim was "to form anew
(not reconstruct) the room-areas correspond­
ing to the different mosaics" (Minissi
196 1 : 1 3 1 ).

Both of these goals influenced Minissi's original design. With the benefit
of hindsight and with today's changing perspectives, the solution adopted
in the 1 950s raises a number of issues concerning visitor access and
interpretation.
The modern visitor can view all the preserved floors that have
been uncovered-more, in fact, than a Roman visitor to the villa would
probably have seen. However, the aesthetic presentation of the
outstanding floor mosaics is achieved at the expense of an accurate
historical interpretation of how a Roman villa functioned. The fixed
visitor route follows the wall tops of a series of rooms; however, by
so dOing, it cannot simulate original patterns of movement in the
ancient villa.
In recent years, visitors, instead of arriving through the
monumental entrance of the villa (Fig. 1, no. l l a), have arrived from the
north on a route that takes them past the furnaces of the bath complex
and a latrine (no. 1 4)-hardly the approach that a distinguished Roman
visitor would have taken. The peristyle, around which Roman inhabitants
and visitors would have walked, can be viewed only from afar by the
visitor; so too the important basilica.
To understand the villa, visitors must depend on information
from a guidebook or from the tour guides who escort groups. (The official
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 81

Figure 1 6
Crowds of midmorning visitors at the villa
in May 1995. The fixed itinerary created by
the walkways built in the 1950s is no longer
adequate to serve the number of visitors­
as many as two thousand per day at peak
periods.

English-language guidebook i s Gentili's [1 966] .) There i s almost n o written

or visual information provided on the site-information that might, for
instance, illuminate the functions of the rooms.
The priority given to aesthetic presentation of the mosaics over
the simulation of original routes of movement through the villa is under­
standable given Minissi's aim to create a "special kind of museum round
exhibits which were already in place" (Minissi 196 1 : 1 3 1 ) . Moreover, many
historical questions-even the functions of several rooms-remain unre­
solved, and so relatively little information can be presented to the visitor
with confidence. Another issue raised by the fixed visitor route within
the main enclosure-one that could not be foreseen by the decision makers
of the 195 0s-is the carrying capacity of the walkways. As a result of
the advent of mass tourism (Fig. 16), at peak periods, the opportunity to
experience the mosaics-carefully designed by Minissi and his
colleagues-is at risk of being lost in a single-file mass surge of
visitors toward the only exit.
In summary, the protective enclosures constructed at the villa
forty years ago raise some general issues for site management today.
Foremost of these is the reconciliation of conservation and presentation
objectives in a site management plan. Both aesthetic and historical values
need to be incorporated into the presentation of floor mosaics (or any dec­
orative surfaces). Open questions are whether the design of modern visi­
tor itineraries should mimic the probable access patterns of the original
occupants of the site, and whether the viewing conditions of, for example,
ancient mosaics should attempt to imitate original conditions or should
instead be optimized for the convenience of the modern-day visitor.
Finally, the need to accommodate to day's mass tourism emphasizes the
necessity of upgrading visitor facilities designed several decades ago.
Others have argued that the protective enclosure and visitor itin­
erary designed forty years ago should now be considered obsolete, since
they cause damage to the site's remains and provide an unsatisfactory
visitor experience. If so, the many issues that this solution attempted to
82 S tanley - Price

resolve in the 1 950s are no less immediate today-both for Piazza

Armerina and for ancient sites in general.

The author owes a particular debt to Dr. Gianni Ponti, who researched
Acknowledgments
the history of interventions at the villa, facilitated local liaison in Italy, and
accompanied the author on research visits to Piazza Armerina for the
preparation of this study. The author is also indebted to Dr. Gianfillipo
Villari, soprintendente of the Soprintendenza ai Beni Culturali e Ambientali
di Enna, for much help and for allowing access to unpublished reports in
the soprintendenza's archives; and to other members of the staff who
helped provide information about the villa: Dr. Enza Cilia Platamone, the
architect Rosa Oliva, Dr. Anna Bombaci, the architect Claudio Meraglia,
and the surveyor Liborio Bellone. In Rome, the architect Franco Minissi
was very helpful in discussing his work at the villa, as was Professor
Andrea C arandini. The author is grateful to all those mentioned for
helping make this study possible.

1. Perspex, manufactured by ICI of the United Kingdom.

Note

Adamesteanu, D.
References 1988 Sofiana: Scavi, 1 954 e 1 9 6 1 . In La villa romana del Casale di Piazza Armerina: Atei della IV
Riunione Scientifica della Smola di Perfezionamento in Archeologia Classica dell'Universitd di
Catania, ed. Salvatore Garraffo, 74-83. Cronache di Archeologia, vol. 23. Catania:
Istituto di Archeologia, Universita di Catania.

Ampolo C . , A. Carandini, G. Pucci, and P. Pensabene

1971 La Villa del Casale a Piazza Armerina: Problemi, saggi stratigrafici ed altre ricerche.
Mt'langes de l'Ecole Franraise de Rome, Antiquite 83: 1 4 1-28 1 .

Bartolotte, A . , and V. Caputo

1991 Piazza Armerina-villa romana del Casale: Indagine microclimatica. Laboratorio di
Fisica, Centro Regionale per la Progettazione e il Restauro, Palermo.

Bernab6 Brea, L.
1947 Piazza Armerina: Restauri dei mosaici romani del Casale. Notizie degli Scavi di
Antichitd, 252-53.

Brandi, C.
1956 Archeologia siciliana. Bollettino dell'Istituto Centrale del Restauro 27-28:93-100.

Carandini, A., A. Ricci, and M . De Vos

1 982 Filosofiana: The Villa of Piazza Armerina. 2 vols. Palermo: S. F. Flaccovio.

Cultrera, G.
1936 Scavi, scoperte e restauri di monumenti antichi in Sicilia nel quinquennio 1 93 1- 1 935.
Atei della Societd ltaliana per il Progresso delle Scienze 2(3): 6 1 2 .

1940 Sicilia, Piazza Armerina: Notiziario di scavi, scoperte, studi relativi all'[mpero Romano.
Bollettino Comunale di Roma 68: 1 29-30.
 T H E R O M A N V I L LA AT P I A Z ZA A R M E R I N A , S I C I LY 83

De Miro, E.
1988 La Villa del Casale di Piazza Armerina: Nuove ricerche. In La villa romana del Casale di
Piazza Armerina: Ani della IV Riunione Scientifica della Scuola di Perfezionamento in
Archeologia Classica dell'Universita di Catania, ed. Salvatore Garraffo, 58-72. Cronache di
Archeologia, vol. 23. Catania: Istituto di Archeologia, Universita di Catania.

De Miro, E., and E. F. Minissi

1 972 Progetto per il Museo di Piazza Armerina. Musei e gallerie d'Italia 1 7 .

Garraffo, S., ed.

1988 La villa romana del Casale di Piazza Armerina. Atti della IV Riunione Scientifica della Scuola
di Perfezionamento in A rcheologia Classica dell'Universita di Catania. Cronache di
Archeologia, vol. 23. Catania: Istituto di Archeologia, Universita di Catania.

Gentili, G. V.
1950 Piazza Armerina: Grandiosa villa romana in contrada Casale. Notizie degli Scavi di
Antichita, 291-335.

1952a La villa romana del Casale di Piazza Armerina. In Atti del I Congresso Nazionale di
Archeologia Cristiana, Siracusa, 1 9-24 settembre 1 950, 1 7 1-82. Rome: "L'Erma" di
Bretschneider.

1 952b I mosaici della villa romana del Casale di Piazza Armerina. Bollettino d'Arte 37:33-46.

1 956 La villa imperiale di Piazza Armerina. In Atti del VII Congresso Nazionale di Storia
dell'Architettura, 24-30 settembre 1 950, 247-50. Palermo: II Comitato.

1 966 The Imperial Villa of Piazza Armerina. Guidebooks to the Museums, Galleries, and
Monuments of Italy, no. 87. 3d English edition. Rome: Istituto Poligrafico dello Stato,
Libreria dello Stato.

Kiihler, H.
1973 Die Villa des Maxentius bei Piazza Armerina. Monumenta Artis Romanae, vol. 12. Berlin:
Mann.

Leanti, A.
1761 L o stato presente della Sicilia. Palermo: Francesco Valenza Impressore della S s . Crociata.

MacDonald, W. L.
1986 The Piazza Armerina villa. Appendix to The Architecture of the Roman Empire. Vol. 2,
An Urban Appraisal, 274-83. New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press.

Minissi, F.

1961 Protection of the mosaic pavements of the Roman villa at Piazza Armerina. Museum
1 4 : 1 3 1-32.

Orsi, P.
1934 Romanita e avanzi romani in Sicilia: Piazza Armerina. Roma 1 2:255.

Pappalardo, L.
1881 Le recenti scoperte in contrada Casale presso Piazza Armerina. N.p.

Scognamiglio, M.
1992a Emergency intervention on flooded mosaics at Piazza Armerina. International
Committee for the Conservation of Mosaics Newsletter 9: 1 7-18.

1992b Piazza Armerina: Villa romana del Casale. Centro Regionale per la Progettazione e il
Restauro, Palermo.
84 S tanley - Price

Settis, S .
1975 Per l'interpretazione di Piazza Armerina. Melanges de l'Ecole Franraise de Rome
87:873-994.

Soprintendenza ai Beni Culturali e Ambientali di Enna

1994 Interview by author, Enna, Italy, March-September.

Stanley-Price, N. P., and G. Ponti

1 996 Protective enclosures for mosaic floors: A review of Piazza Armerina, Sicily, after forty
years. Paper presented at the Sixth Conference of the International Committee for the
Conservation of Mosaics, 24-28 October, iu Nicosia, Cyprus.

Voza, G.
1 976-77 La villa romana del Tellaro. Kokalos 22-23:572-73.

1980-81 Villa romana di Patti. Kokalos 26-27:690-93.

Wilson, R. J. A.
1983 Piazza Armerina. London: Granada Publishing.
 85

la

Plates J a-d
Roman villa of Piazza Armerina, Sicily, Italy.
The general view of the baths (a) shows the
enclosures erected to protect the site's mosaic
floors, which are among the most complete in
a late Roman villa. The Great Hunt mosaic
(b, c) is protected by roofing and is viewed
both from ground level and from an elevated
walkway. The Labors of Hercules mosaic,
shown in detail (d), is another of the villa's
most important artworks.

Ib
86

Ie
87
 88

2a

Plates 2a-d
The palace of Knossos, Crete, Greece, exca­
vated and reconstructed by Arthur Evans
beginning in 1900. The North Lustral Basin
(a) and its restored internal columns (b) show
how modern strucrures now dominate the
site. The original Griffin Fresco, very little of
which was actually preserved, was "restored"
in 1 9 1 3 , and three copies (c) were later added
around the Throne Room. These frescoes,
like the copy of the Cupbearer Fresco (d) in
the South Ptopylaeum, as well as the rest of
the palace, are largely modern creations.

zb
 89

zd
90

3a

Plates 3 a-e
Ephesus, Turkey. The Greco-Roman ciry of
Ephesus (a), seen from Mount Coressus; in
center foreground is the upper ancient ciry;
the modern town of Sel�uk is seen in the
distance. Ephesus retains its integriry as an
ancient landscape and as an example of
Hellenistic and Roman architecture and urban
planning. The restored Library of Celsus (b)
is the site's most prominent structure; other
remains (c) evoke the romantic pastoral
qualiry of ruins overgrown by nature. The
enigmatic tumble of architectural pieces in
Domitian Square (d) both confuses and
intrigues visitors, while the monumental
theater (e), recently restored, today occasion­
ally serves as an entertainment venue, pend­
ing a final decision on its conservation and
future use.
 91

3b

3c
92
 93

Knossos

John K. Papadopoulos

N 1900 A RT H U R J O H N E VA N S embarked on a full-scale excavation

I at the prehistoric site on the Kephala Hill at Knossos and immediately

came across the remains of the building he was to call the Palace
of Minos (Figs. 1-4) . 1 The discovery, later referred to as "the find of a
lifetime" (Horwitz 1 9 8 1 ; Evans 1 943; Harden 1 983), brought to light a
hitherto-unknown civilization, dubbed the Minoan. Early in this century,
Evans not only excavated the site but boldly transformed the monument­
through restoration, reconstruction, and reinforced concrete-into one
of the most frequently visited archaeological sites in the Old World.
The original Neolithic settlement, probably dating to before
7000 B.C.E., as well as the later palace at Knossos, are situated on the low
hill of Kephala, approximately five kilometers southeast of Heraklion
(Candia).z The greater archaeological area of Knossos (Fig. 2), as defined
by Hood and Smyth ( 1 9 8 1 : 1 ) , is significantly larger than the immediate
palace site; it covers an area of some ten square kilometers, being just
under five kilometers north to south, with a maximum width of three
kilometers east to west.3 This area includes the settlement site of Knossos,
in its various phases, as well as most of the cemeteries of all periods. Only
a small portion of this area is exposed today as part of the archaeological
site; this portion includes, in addition to privately owned plots of agricul­
tural land, six modern villages.4 Intensive building in recent years has
transformed the northern part of the area into a suburb of Heraklion.
Nevertheless, it has been remarked that "perhaps no other region of
ancient settlement in Greece has been so thoroughly explored as this area
of some ten square kilometers" (Hood and Smyth 1 98 1 : 1 ) .
A s a large settlement and cemetery site o f many periods, Knossos
raises a variety of issues and shares many of the problems inherent at all
sites with a long and continuous occupation history. At the same time,
despite almost a century of excavation and study, the site is best known,
among both specialists and the broader public, for its remarkable central
building, conventionally called a palace (Fig. 3) (Graham 1962; Cadogan
1976; Hagg and Marinatos 1 987; cf. Castleden 1 990). This building, discov­
ered early in the history of investigations at the site and extensively
explored, is one of the earliest ancient buildings to have been restored to
94 Pap a d op o u l o s

Gramvousa RODOPOU PENINSULA A e g e a n

Bay
of AKROTIRI PENINSULA
•
Kisam os
Phalasarna
­
- Kisamos Chania
·
• Nerokourou
Polyrrhenia

Omalo Plain
- Rethymno
W h i t e M 0 u n t a n s ·
· Eleutherna
Armeni
+ Pahnes 2,453
Lissos .
S a m a T i a C •

G 0 r g e R Monastiraki
E
Psiloriti 2,456 +

Ayia Triada
• • Phaistos
'
Kami1 an. •
•
Kommos
•
Odigitria •
Lebena

KILOMETERS L i b a n
y

Figure 1 such a scale and extent, particularly to the level of the upper stories.5
Map of Crete showing locations of
The work on its restoration was commenced immediately after the epoch­
major sites.
making discoveries of its excavator. Indeed, the excavation, interpretation,
and restoration of the palace are inseparable from the work and vision of
Evans-so much so that his restoration has itself assumed historical
importance.

The site of Knossos, and more particularly the Bronze Age palace, has
Significance of Knossos
great Significance, as well as current relevance, as seen from various per­
spectives. The importance of the site derives primarily, of course, from the
many spectacular finds made there, but beyond that, Knossos has a large
role in the local, national, and popular image, as well as a strong economic
impact on the region.

Historical value

Because it brought to light a hitherto-unknown prehistoric civilization,

Knossos has a strong historical value. It is the site of one of the earliest
complex societies in Europe-one that enj oyed extensive foreign relations,
not only with the Greek mainland but also, in particular, with the Near
East and Egypt. In addition, the excavations at Knossos have yielded abun-
 KN O S S O S 95

• Modern town or city

00 Modern city with archaeological site
s e a
• Archaeological site
+ Mountain peak (in meters)

Cape Sidero
•
Tylissos Heraklion
• •
Knossos Dreros . Olous
•
Mt Juktas 811
+
00 Archanes Kar hi · Siteia Ayia Photia
P Ayios Nikolaos • • •
• • Bay of Mochlos
Palaikastro
· . Chamaizi
L a s i t h i
T
Vathypetro Lato Mirab ello Pseira
·
E
+ 2 , 1 48 Vrokastro
• •
•
Kavousi
+
Ornon 1 ,237
Achladia
•
•
M o lt n t a n s Gournia
.
Praisos
Zakro
Gortyn + Thripri 1 ,476
• Syme . Vasilliki
• Makryyialos
.Platanos Myrtos •
Ierapetra
· I!!
Chondros Kalonero Bay

Kouphonisi

a
e
s

dant evidence of advanced technology in various materials; they have also

brought to light the earliest known syllabic script in the Aegean (Linear A)
and the earliest verified written Greek (Linear B), Knossos is the earliest
and largest Neolithic site on Crete and one of the earliest permanent set­
tlements on any of the Mediterranean islands, It has also been a large
urban nucleus in various periods from the Bronze Age, beginning perhaps
as early as the later third millennium B,C.E" through the early Iron Age,
and into the Classical, Hellenistic, and Roman periods, There are also
important remains spanning the Byzantine period up to the Arab conquest
of Crete (ca, 827 C.E, ) , at which time Heraklion became the capital of the
island, Although the settlement at Knossos was at its most extensive dur­
ing the Palatial period of the Bronze Age, during the late Hellenistic
period, and, again, during early Roman times, it was an important settle­
ment for an exceptionally long period of time-at least seven thousand
years (Evely, Hughes-Brock, and Momigliano 1 994),

Scientific value

The historical Significance of the site gives Knossos great scientific value as
the type site of Minoan culture and one of the cornerstones for the tradi­
tional chronology of the Aegean and parts of the eastern Mediterranean
in the Bronze Age, The palace and its surrounds have been the obj ect of
96 Pap a d op o u l o s

\
' Roman amphitheater
'\

� ,,
'. ,." < , }�� CJi �
\ Roman basilIca
\\
\

-- "
-�,,- �-- % \\-:. - ' ,

Villa � <:::; ,�; ..

....
;
Dionysos ,,",

, -L /
�.

... 0
Q 0 '0,
r
00 0
0
0- 0

\ .,

Figu re 2
Part of the gre ater area 0f the archaeological
'
site of Kn ossos, showing some 0f the more
' ent remains
promm , outSl'de the palace,
 KN O S S O S 97

54

53

I
I
Site of 1
Northwest \
House

West Court
2'

Chancel Screen
Conjectural walls

_Actual or certain walls

A-C West Magazines 18. Throne Room 38. Court of the Stone Spout
I-XVlIl West Magazines 19. Inner Sanctuary 39. Magazines of the Giant Pithoi
l . Kouloures 20. Stepped Porch 40. East Bastion
2, 2 ' . Altars 21. Tripartite Shrine 41. Corridor o f the Draughtboard
3 . West Porch 22. Lobby of the Stone Seat 42. Northeast Hall
4-1 1. Corridor of the Procession 23. Temple Repositories 43. Northeast Magazines
5 . Southwest Porch 24. Pillar Crypts 44. Room of the Stone Drainhead
6. Stepped Portico 25. Grand Staircase 45. Magazine of the Medallion Pithoi
7. South Terrace 26. Hall of the Double Axes (King's Hall) 46. Corridor of the Bays
8, 8 ' . South Propylaeum 27. Queen's Hall 47. Early Keep
9. South Corridor 28. Queen's Dressing Room 48. North Entrance Passage
10. South Porch 29. Court of the Distaffs 49. North Pillar Hall
1 1 . Priest King Relief 30. Service Staircase 50. North Gate
12. Site of the Greek temple 31. Southeast Bathroom 51. North Lustral Basin and Initiatory Area
13. Bathtub with Linear B Tablets 32. Shrine of the Double Axes 52. Northwest Portico
14. Long Corridor of the West 33. Southeast Lustral Basin 53. Theatral Area
Magazines 34. Lobby of the Wooden Posts 54. Royal Road
1 5 . Deposit of Hieroglyphic Tablets 35. East Portico 55. Northwest Entrance?
16. Corridor of the Stone Basin 36. Lapidary's Workshop
1 7. Anteroom of the Throne Room 37. Schoolroom

Figure 3
Plan of the palace of Knossos (after A. Evans).
98 Papa d op o u lo s

Figure 4 prolific scholarly research in many areas-including archaeological,

Knossos viewed from the east in 1 902, two
historical, philological, art-historical, anthropological, and scientific-both
years after Evans started his excavations. The
soil dumps on the eastern slopes of the site,
for the Bronze Age and for earlier and later periods.
which were visible in 1 90 1 , have been moved.
The Throne Room has been roofed (see Symbolic and associative values
Fig. 7), a retaining wall for the Central Court
has been built, and various parts of the Crete is the setting for numerous Greek myths, and of these, many are
Domestic Quarter have been partially enacted against the elaborate backdrop of the palace of Knossos. The
restored or consolidated.
symbolic and associative values of the site have defied the passage of time
to such an extent that although Minoan Knossos was lost from human
view, it was never lost from human memory. The legendary Minos, son of
Zeus and Europa, featured prominently in later Greek accounts as the first
person to organize a navy, through which he controlled the greater part
of the Aegean, where he also established the first colonies; 6 he lived on
even in death as one of the great judges of the underworld (Bazant
1992:5 70-74). Pasiphae, the Minotaur, and Daidalos's many devices and
creations-including the labyrinth and his subsequent human-powered
flight from Crete with his son Ikaros-were well known in Classical Greek
tragedy, as well as in Greek, Roman, and even modern tradition and
iconography (Morris 1992; Farnoux 1993). So too were Theseus and his
slaying of the Minotaur, aided by Minos's daughter Ariadne. Although
ahistorical, or myth-historical, these traditions add to the allure and
significance of the site. It is perhaps no coincidence that some of the earli­
est modern travelers to Crete were most interested in the legendary
labyrinth of Daidalos.

Aesthetic value

Modern activities on the site have enhanced the aesthetic value of

Knossos, which attracts most current visitors to the site. Whatever its
 KNOSSOS 99

accuracy, Evans's restoration of the palace conveys an idea of the original

building, with its various complex and multifunctional architectural units.7
A heightened aesthetic sensibility and high-quality artisanship
are evident in the original architectural design, masonry, and fittings and
in many of the numerous finds, in a variety of materials, now in the
Heraklion Museum. Foremost of these are the frescoes, among the earliest
monumental wall and floor paintings in Europe, replicas of which were
set up in various parts of the palace-though seldom in their original posi­
tions. In addition, Knossos is a pleasant place to visit, not least for the trees
that Evans planted all around the palace to create a green zone. The palace
site is located on a hill-in part natural, in part constructed-with views
of the surrounding countryside. The aesthetic value of the site and of the
greater landscape is enhanced by these symbolic and associative values.
The design and aesthetic qualities of the palace and of the many
finds excavated there, such as the frescoes and the floral and marine motifs
on Minoan pottery, have had an influence on the art and architecture of
the early twentieth century, particularly the Art Nouveau and Art Deco
movements of Europe and North America (Bammer 1 990).

Social value

The site of Knossos today means many things to many people, particularly
in Greece. The social value of the site is reflected in the fact that Knossos
is an undeniable source of national, especially Cretan, pride. Because they
are so recognizable, images of restored parts of the palace and especially
of individual finds-frescoes, bronzes, pottery, and other media-have
been used as emblems in a variety of modern products, ranging from
souvenirs and the famed natural produce of Crete to logos of major
shipping companies.
Knossos is the second-most-visited site in Greece and one of the
most-visited archaeological sites in the world (Tables 1-7 present a sum­
mary of visitor traffic in Knossos and other main sites in Greece). It there­
fore represents an important economic resource, both on a national level,
through intake at the gate, and on a local level. The effects of mass
tourism trickle down to all aspects of the local economy, such as tourist
agencies, hotels, taxi drivers, restaurants, and stores.

The palace site at Knossos has had a long and varied history of excava­
History of Excavation and
tion and interventions, including restoration and conservation, which
Interventions can be divided into six main phases, as discussed below.

History of the palace site before 1 900

The earliest excavations at the site were by Minos Kalokairinos, who exca­
vated for three months, beginning in December 1 878 (Haussoullier 1 880;
Aposkitou 1 979; Brown 1986; Hood 1 987). His soundings exposed part of
the central portion of the west wing of the palace, and his finds drew
much attention at the time (Haussoullier 1 880; Stillman 1 880-8 1 ; Fabricius
100 Pap a d op o u l o s

Table 1 The most-visited sites in Greece, 1 990-93. The Acropolis at Athens and Knossos

hold the firm position as the two most-visited sites in Greece.

Rank 1990 1991 1992 1993

Acropolis, Athens Acropolis, Athens Acropolis, Athens Acropolis, Athens

2 Knossos Knossos Knossos Knossos

Delphi Epidauros Undos Undos

4 Epidauros Delphi Epidauros Epidauros

Mycenae Undos Delphi Mycenae

Sources: Data are largely derived from records kept by the Greek Ministry of Culture. particularly the Ephoreia of

Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities at Heraklion; they are supplemented by material presented in Dr. Clairy Palyvou's

studies on Knossos.

Table 2 Number of visitors to five major sites in Greece, 1 990-93. These figures document a
ri;e in the number of visitors to Lindos, on the island of Rhodes, and thus the growing popu­
larity of sites on Greek islands as opposed to those on the mainland. The significant drop in
the number of visitors in 1991 reflects the impact of the Gulf War on tourism in the region,
although by and large, the tourist industries of Crete and of Greece in general do not appear
to have been as adversely affected as those of other eastern Mediterranean countries.

Site 1990 1991 1992 1 993

Acropolis, Athens 1 ,402,367 812,519 1 ,063,997 1 ,063,997

Knossos 706,306 5 1 5,615 689,055 660,5 1 6

Undos 419,187 290,964 402,086 423,253

Epidauros 540,596 297,528 369,081 358,853

Delphi 590,736 292,033 3 5 5,900 338,500

Sources: See nQ[e to Table 1 . Data are approximate; they are mainly based on ticket sales and therefore represent the min-

imum of visitors. Not included are visitor statistics for Sunday or public holidays, when entrance to Greek museums and

archaeological sites is free of charge. On certain Sundays (especially those connected with public holidays) there are

thousands of visitors to Knossos and other sites. These figures do not include school groups, students, and scholars.

Table 3 The most-frequented sites during winter months, 1 994. Ta ble 4 The number of visitors to the
The pattern showing the growing popularity of island sites (see Athenian AcropoliS, as well as to the
Table 2 ) is reversed during the winter months, when boat sched­ three most-visited prehistoric sites in
ules are limited. Undos, heavily visited during the summer, does Gree�e, 1 99 1 .
not appear, and Knossos drops to fifth place. Sites on the main­
land, easily accessed by bus, maintain a steady stream of visitors Site Visitors
during the winter.
Acropolis, Athens 812,519

Rank Site January-March 1 994 Knossos 5 1 5,615

Mycenae 274,262
Acropolis, Athens 1 02,620
Phaistos 107,330
2 Delphi 25,700

3 Epidauros 23,687 Sources: See note to Table 2.

4 Mycenae 22,530

5 Knossos 1 9,777

Sources: See note to Table 2.

 KNOSSOS 101

Table 5 Number of visitors to Knossos and Table 6 Quarterly number of visitors to

Phaistos, the two most-visited archaeological Knossos and Phaistos, 1 99 1 .

sites on Crete, 1987-89.

Quarter ( 1991 ) Knossos Phaistos

Year Knossos Phaistos 4,362

January-March 1 1 ,778

1987 617,917 1 60, 1 60 April-June 169,953 33,9 1 1

1 988 675,600 169,980 July-September 285,949 5 1 ,3 5 7

1989 652,895 1 70,960 October-December 76,077 1 7 , 700

Sources: See note to Table 2. Sources: See note to Table 2.

Table 7 Monthly ticket sales at Knossos, 1987-94.

1 987 1988 1 989 1990 1 99 1 1992 1 993 1994

January 1 , 700 4,3 1 0 2,344 1 ,847 1 , 784 1,617 2,644

February 2 , 1 00 3 , 1 53 2,690 1 ,043 1 ,522 1 , 1 82 1 ,724

March 1 1 ,4 1 7 14,554 22,846 10,300 8,888 5 ,3 1 6 7,602 1 5 ,609

April 72,800 66,900 53,300 68,780 25,862 73,884 60,925 67,3 14

May 83,900 84,300 87,700 89,400 59,262 94,048 76,921 94,087

June 8 1 , 1 00 86,300 77,700 89,200 84,829 86,6 1 3 79, 1 5 6 9 1 ,899

July 109,200 1 05,300 92,700 105,947 1 1 6,492 106,500 102,952 1 1 2, 1 96

August 88,400 128,200 1 1 1 , 700 1 32,598 84,829 1 22,699 1 24,668 129, 5 1 7

September 86,800 96,400 1 0 1 ,900 1 1 0, 8 5 1 84,628 1 08,994 1 06,355 1 1 0,089

October 74,300 75,600 83,800 77,701 67,746 79,675 35 ,696 53,407

November 8,000 9,950 9,700 12,863 6,827 5,643 10,654 10,459

December 2,200 4,040 4 , 1 86 3 , 630 1 , 503 2,377 2,788 2,612

Total 6 1 8, 1 1 7 675,344 652,995 706,304 543,756 689,055 6 1 0, 5 1 6 691,557

Sources: See note t o Table 2. (Figures prior t o March 1987 are not available.)

1 886; Evans 1 894). Kalokairinos chanced upon several inscribed symbols

on gypsum blocks, now referred to as "masons' marks"; it was these
marks, perhaps more than anything else, that drew Evans to the site.8 He
first visited the site in 1 894, quickly purchased the land, and set about
planning its excavation; for a variety of political and economic reasons,
however, he was not able to begin until 1 900 (Evans 1 899-1 900:4-5; Hood
and Taylor 1 98 1 : 1-2) .

Excavations and activities of Arthur Evans,

phase 1 (circa 1 900- 1 9 1 3 )

Apart from a nine-year gap bridging the First World War, and several
shorter periods of hiatus, Evans excavated the site from 1 900 to 1 93 0 .
From the point o f view o f restoration and conservation, his activities may
102 Pap a d op o u los

be divided into two broad phases separated by the war. The first phase saw
the full-scale excavation of the site. The main part of the palace was
uncovered during the first six seasons, from 1 900 to 1905 (Fig. 4), and the
results were promptly presented in detailed annual preliminary reports
(Evans 1 899-1900, 1 900-1 90 1 , 1901-2 , 1 902-3 , 1 903-4, 1 904-5) .
By modern standards the excavations left a lot to be desired, par­
ticularly the pace with which the work was conducted and the fact that a
great deal of archaeological material, especially pottery, was discarded.
Nevertheless-because Evans from the beginning worked closely with a
capable team of specialists-the excavations were remarkably ahead of
their time.9 A large observation tower, which also served for photography,
was soon built by the excavators at the southeast edge of the Central
Court (Brown 1 983 : 1 8, fig. 3; Evans 1 900-1 90 1 :96-97, pI. 2). This allowed
for a level of photography rarely seen in contemporary archaeology. The
meticulous photographic record kept by the excavators, now housed in the
Evans Archive at the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford, included an aerial view
of the palace that was published in 1 93 5 (Evans 1935 :pt. 1, xxvi-xxvii).
Although this first phase of Evans's work at the site was largely
devoted to excavation, the conservation of various parts of the palace
became a pressing problem from the very beginning. This was particularly
the case for two of the most prominent sectors of the palace, the so-called
Throne Room (Figs. 5-12) and the Residential, or Domestic, Quarter
surrounding the Grand Staircase (Figs. 1 3-20) . 1 0 By 1 92 7 Evans stated,
"Knossos, as was remarked by a German colleague, has passed through
three 'periods' of conservation-marked respectively by the use of
wooden supports, of iron girders, and of ferro-concrete" (Evans 1 927:262).
The first phase of Evans's intervention is that of wooden supports and
iron girders.
One of the earliest and most spectacular discoveries of the first
season, the Throne Room presented problems of conservation from the
start (Figs. 5 , 6). When a gypsum floor, benches, and fresco fragments

Figure 5
Throne Room during excavation, 1900. This
photograph, touched up with white ink, was
published as the main illustration of the
appeal brochure issued by the Cretan
Exploration Fund in 1 900 (see Brown 1 983:36,
pI. 14). Note the poor state of preservation at
the time of excavation.
 KN O S S O S 103

Figure 6
Throne Room viewed from the east in 1900,
after the first year of excavation. The discov­
ery in situ of parts of the gypsum floor and
wall frescoes made it evident that some form
of immediate protection from the elements
was necessary. Evans stands in front of the
tent in the background.

were discovered, it was clear that some sort of protective cover for the
Throne Room was urgently needed. The first roofing solution was com­
pleted in 1 90 1 . It consisted of a flat roof supported by brick pillars along
the sides. Columns-constructed of wooden slats, covered with plaster,
and painted-were fitted into positions formerly occupied by Minoan
columns, where they supported a timber framework. The structure was
further protected by wrought iron railings and iron gates (Fig. 7). In 1 904
the flat roof was replaced by a more permanent structure with a pitched
roof supported by metal girders (Fig. 8). The loft of the building was fitted
with shelving and used as "a kind of reference museum" (Brown 1 983:42);
it saw service for quite a number of years before being replaced in 1 930
by a massive structure of reinforced concrete, which attempted to convey
an idea of the original (Figs. 9, 12). Although providing a solution for the
Throne Room, the various structures of this phase protected only a small

Figure 7
First protective roof over the Throne Room,
viewed from the southeast, 1 90 1 . The flat roof
was supported by brick pillars along the sides
and by interior columns that were made of
wooden slats, covered with plaster, and
painted. The interior columns, which sup­
ported a timber framework, were fitted into
positions occupied by the original Minoan
columns. For protection, the enclosure was
fitted with wrought iron railings and iron
gates. The protective structure covered only
the Throne Room; most of the extensive exca­
vation was exposed to the elements.
 104 Pap a d o p o u los

Figure 8
Second roof over the Throne Room, viewed
from the southeast, 1904. The earlier flat roof
(Fig. 7) was replaced by a more permanent
structure with a pitched roof supported by
metal girders. The loft was fitted with shelv­
ing and served as a reference museum.

Figure 9
Throne Room viewed from the southeast,
1930. The functional second shelter for the
Throne Room (Fig. 8) was replaced by a mas­
sive structure of reinforced concrete based on
Evans's idea of the original Minoan building.
This included the construction of the entirely
modern upper story, used as a "picture
gallery" for copies of frescoes from various
parts of the palace. The newly restored
Stepped Portico, Throne Room complex, and
West Portico of the North Entrance Passage
can be seen.

Figure 1 0
Throne Room, Anteroom, and Stepped
Portico after excavation, 1 900. The fragility of
the original fabric of the monument can be
seen in the prerestoration state of the Throne
Room and its immediate surrounds.

Figure 1 1
Interior of the Throne Room as restored in
1930. Three copies of the Griffin Fresco were
added to the original, fragmentary griffin dis­
covered in situ in 1 900. The restoration is dra­
matic in the degree to which it transformed
the excavated remains of the area (Figs. 5, 6)
(see color plate 2c).
 KNOSSOS 105

Figure 1 2
Throne Room complex and the Stepped
Portico, viewed from the east after restora­
tion, 1 930. There is a substantial difference
between the excavated remains (Fig. 10)
and the result of the restoration. The new
concrete structure was laid directly onto the
original fabric.

portion of the excavated area, and substantial areas on the west side of
the palace, including the West Magazines, were left exposed (Brown
1 983 :pls. 32, 33a-c).
Other conservation and consolidation work conducted during the
early years included the construction of a large retaining wall, built on the
east side of the Central Court by 1 902 (Fig. 4). In 1 903 the Theatral Area
was consolidated and restored with a retaining wall on the north side
(Fig. 2 1 ), and in 1 904 a stone shelter was erected over the Magazines of
the Giant Pithoi (Hood and Taylor 1981 :4).
The excavation of the Grand Staircase and the Domestic Quarter,
with evidence of upper floors preserved in places, presented formidable
problems (Hood and Taylor 198 1 :2-5; Brown 1983:77-84). Photographs of
the area taken in the course of excavations show the poorly preserved and
friable nature of many of the exposed remains (Figs. 1 3 , 1 4). Stairs and
floors that had partially caved in, along with collapsed windows and door­
ways originally supported in antiquity by wooden beams, necessitated
immediate attention and support. The first solution was to prop up fallen
architectural members with wooden supports (Fig. 14), and by the end of
1 902, much had been done on the consolidation of this area of the palace

Figure 1 3
Area o f the Grand Staircase during excava­
tion, 1 90 1 . The poorly preserved and friable
nature of many of the exposed remains of the
Domestic Quarter can be seen. This unique
and important part of the site required imme­
diate attention. Evans found significant evi­
dence of upper floors: stairs and floors that
had partially caved in, as well as collapsed
windows and doorways supported in antiquity
by wooden beams.
 106 Pap a d op o u lo s

Figure 1 4, a b ove (Figs. 1 5 , 1 6) . Further maj or work o f restoration was undertaken i n this
Domestic Quarter viewed from the east, 1 9 0 1 .
area in 1 905, as well as in 1 908 and 1 9 1 0 (Fig. 1 7) . Part of this work con­
From left to right are the Hall o f the Double
Axes, part of the stairs leading to the upper
sisted of replacing or repositioning landing blocks and other fallen archi­
East-West Corridor, and the Lobby of the tectural elements, while part required the replacing of earlier wooden
Wooden Posts. The first solution to the prob­ supports with iron girders (Fig. 1 7) . A number of stone columns (plastered
lem of collapsed floors, stairs, windows, and
over, painted, and fitted into original sockets) had replaced the earlier
doors was the use of wooden supports to
prop up fallen architectural members. This
wooden supports. 11 Moreover, a good deal of rebuilding in stone had been
area was restored in 1928 (see Fig. 1 8). undertaken, with the additional support of iron girders set in cement in

Figure 1 5 Figure 1 6
Area of the Grand Staircase, 1 902-5. This bird's-eye view from the west, Area of the Grand Staircase, the Hall of the Double Axes, and the
taken from the observation tower, shows the wooden supports that have Queen's Megaron, 1 902. Wooden supports were used for stabilization
been put into place in the East-West Corridor, as well as the lower and consolidation.
flights of stairs. In this early stage of the work, attention was given to
stabilization and consolidation, largely achieved with wooden supports.
 KNOSSOS 107

Figure 1 7 the place of the original architraves and beams. Despite these develop­
Grand Staircase during restoration, 1 9 1 0 . The
ments, however, the reinforced concrete roofing over parts of the area­
wooden supports initially used to stabilize the
structures (see Figs. 1 5 , 16) were replaced a
especially the larger halls-was not realized until after 1 922.
few years later by iron girders. Arthur Evans, It was also during this phase that Evans planted trees all around
dressed in white, is seen at the upper center the site, in order to set off the palace from the surrounding landscape. The
right; next to him stand Duncan Mackenzie
trees began to appear in photographs of the site taken after 1 904.
(wearing a pith helmet), Evans's assistant and
In a number of publications, Evans stressed the need to address
supervising field archaeologist, and the archi­
tect Christian Doll (wearing the wide­ the problems of conservation at the site (Evans 1927, 1 93 5 : 1- 1 8 ) . An
brimmed hat). exceptionally wet winter in 1 904 led to the collapse of part of the Grand

Figure 1 8
Lobby of the Wooden Posts after restoration,
viewed from the east, 1928. The period
berween 1 922 and 1930 saw the most radical
reconstruction work. During this time the site
was transformed from poorly preserved ruins
(Fig. 14) into a multistoried concrete vision
of the past.
108 Pap a d o p o u los

Staircase; this event, in turn, threatened much of the Domestic Quarter,

and Evans felt that "to avert the ruin thus threatened demanded nothing
less than heroic measures" (Evans 1 904-5 :23). Although in this first
phase of activity, Evans was basically concerned with consolidation, the
extremely perishable nature of the excavated materials led him to believe
that more invasive interventions were required. 12 At the time this position
was strongly supported by many of his contemporaries (Karo 1 959 : 1 6-27),
although his interventions of 1 922 to 1930 (described below) were to later
become very controversial.

Activities of Arthur Evans, phase 2 ( 1 922-1 930)

This was the period of the most radical reconstruction, during which the
site was transformed from poorly preserved ruins into a multistoried con­
crete vision of the past. In comparison to the first phase, the resumption
of activities in 1 922, after the First World War, saw a series of smaller
soundings, whereas the restoration of the palace continued with increased
momentum (Hood and Taylor 1 9 8 1 : 3-4). 0 Evans aimed to provide the
visitor with an impression of how parts of the palace might have looked in
their heyday, sometime in the early part of the late Minoan period. He set
forth his reasons for the restoration, which he referred to as reconstitution,
in a paper read before the Society of Antiquaries of London (Evans 1 927).
His reconstruction aroused much controversy at the time, and it has con­
tinued to do so ever since. 14
While the use of wood and iron characterized the reconstruction
work of the first phase, during this second phase, ferroconcrete was used
extensively, with serious consequences. In his 1 927 paper Evans stated,
"The new facilities afforded by the use of reinforced concrete made it pos­
sible not only to renew in a more substantial form the supports of upper
elements in the west section of the palace, but to profit by a better under­
standing of the meaning of existing remains" (Evans 1 927:264). In 1 922
and 1 923, portions of the upper floor over the West Wing and the staircase
associated with the Stepped Portico were restored (Brown 1 983 :pls. 25,
27a). Further reconstruction was undertaken in 1 925 at various points of
the palace at the south and southwest sides of the Central Court (Hood
and Taylor 1 9 8 1 :5).
The west side of the South Propylaeum was restored in 1 926,
where a replica of the Cupbearer Fresco was installed. Most of the work
of restoration on the Grand Staircase and the Domestic Quarter was
undertaken in 1 928. The Loggia of the Grand Staircase was restored and
roofed over, and a replica of the Shield Fresco was executed (Brown
1 983 :pl. 56c); a replica of the Dolphin Fresco was set up in the Queen's
Megaron. In the same year the whole Hall of the Double Axes, including
the porticoes, was roofed over with reinforced concrete, and the upper
floor was relaid at its original height (Brown 1 983 : 83) (Figs. 19, 20). In 1 929
the Southwest Columnar Chamber was erected above the Southwest Pillar
Crypt, several of the West Magazines were roofed over, and the North
Lustral Basin was restored (Fig. 22) (Hood and Taylor 1 9 8 1 :5)Y
 KN O S S O S 1 09

Figure 1 9
Restored upper story of the Domestic
Quarter, 1928. This bird's-eye view from the
west, taken from the observation tower,
shows that the restorations extended to the
second stories of some structures. This photo­
graph can be compared to Figure 16, which
shows the area after partial restoration but
before the 1 928 erection of the second story.
The roof over the lower story was built of
reinforced concrete.

Figure 20
South colonnade of the restored Hall of the
Double Axes, viewed from the south after the
work of 1 928. The entirely modern columns
are based on images from Minoan frescoes.
During the work of the 1920s, some parts of
the palace were restored on the basis of frag­
mentary, and often little-understood, Minoan
iconography.

Figure 2 1
Theatral Area after consolidation and restora­
tion, viewed from the northwest, 1930. One
of the areas worked on during the first phase
of intervention, the Theatral Area was consol­
idated and partially reconstructed. The north
supporting wall was rebuilt; missing slabs of
the northeast section of the southern flight of
steps were restored; and a number of sunken
slabs were partially raised. The restored parts
are indicated in an early published plan (Evans
1902-3: 103, fig. 68).
 1 10 Pap a d op o u los

Figure 22
North Lustral Basin viewed from the north­
west, as restored in 1929. Parts of the palace
were restored according to the architectural
fashion of the day. Consequently, they are
considered by some to be the best -preserved
and finest examples of Art Deco and Art
Nouveau architecture in Greece.

The work of reconstruction was brought to a climax in 1 930 with

the completion of the Throne Room and the North Portico overlooking
the North Entrance Passage. The Throne Room was roofed over for a
third time to achieve its present form (Figs. 9, 1 1 , 12); this included the
construction, in reinforced concrete, of the entirely modern upper story,
used as a picture gallery for copies of frescoes from various parts of the
palace (Brown 1 983 :42)_ In the Throne Room itself, three additional copies
of the Griffin Fresco were added to the earlier griffin, restored in 1 9 1 3 by
Edouard Gillieron (Fig. 1 1 ). Providing one of the main entrances to the
palace, the North Entrance Passage, largely cleared in 1 900-1 90 1 , was
restored and rebuilt in 1 930, complete with a restored replica of the
Charging Bull Fresco set up in the portico built on top of the restored
west bastion (Figs. 23, 24). The west facade of the palace was also radically
transformed in the restorations of 1 930 (Figs. 25, 26)_

Figure 23 Figure 2 4
Portion of the North Entrance Passage as first Portico o f the North Entrance Passage,
exposed after excavation, viewed from the viewed from the north-northeast, 1 930. As
north-northeast, 1 90 1 . The later reconstruc­ part of the reconstruction of the excavated
tion of these excavated remains was to rely remains (Fig. 23), a copy of the Charging Bull
heavily on conjecture (Fig. 24). Fresco was installed in the portico.
 KNOSSOS III

_ , ��
---=-:-
- "'
"7' �
" �.
.:;. .::p.-
--;;;- � ..::
� �

.�
- .-
-

-. "';,Jt
' -.... ..... "
�

Figure 2 5 Figure 2 6
West Court and west facade o f the palace, West Court and west facade o f the palace,
viewed from the south-southwest after 1904 viewed from the southwest after 1 930. The
and before 1930. The original foundation of reconstructed wall of the palace was built
the wall of the west facade of the palace is in concrete directly on the original fabric
seen sometime before the completion of (Fig. 25). The weight of the new materials on
restoration in 1930 (Fig. 26). Perhaps more so the deteriorated archaeological remains has
than for any other archaeological monument exacerbated their process of decay.
in the Mediterranean, the restoration of the
palace (as distinct from the preserved remains
of the original building seen here) has devel­
oped its own historical identity.
Aftermath of the Second World War

Immediately after the Second World War, Nikolaos Platon and R. W

Hutchinson conducted an initial campaign of cleaning and conservation;

Platon also undertook a major campaign of repairs in the palace between
1 95 5 and 1 960 (Hood and Taylor 1 98 1 : 5 ; with brief annual accounts in
Kretika Chronika). After the war, various parts of the palace were roofed
over. The area above the Royal Magazines on the east side, for example, as
well as part of the upper floor built by Evans over the West Wing, was
roofed in concrete (Hood and Taylor 1 9 8 1 :5). 16
During this period, the problem of the future responsibility for
the site, including its maintenance, was addressed. In 1 926, at the age of
seventy-five, Evans transferred all his personal rights-in the palace; in his
personal house on the site, called the Villa Ariadne; and in the Knossos
estate-to the British School of Archaeology at Athens, with the necessary
assent of the Greek government. 1 7 To supplement income derived from
the estate (wine, olives, oil, and grain), Evans established securities toward
the maintenance of the site and created an endowment for a curator. It
was hoped that the arrangements of 1 926 would provide for all emergen­
cies, since the total endowment was estimated to yield £350 a year, and
until 1 9 4 1 the endowment was supplemented by the income from the
estate. During the Second World War, however, the estate fell out of culti­
vation, and the increasing costs in the period immediately after the war
made it impossible for the British School to maintain its activities at
Knossos. In 1 95 1 the Managing Committee of the school proposed to the
Greek government, through the British Embassy in Athens and with the
concurrence of the British Foreign Office, to hand over the palace with the
villa and the freehold estate held in trust for its maintenance . The offer
1 12 Pap a d op o u los

was accepted by the Greek government o n the centenary o f Evans's

birth;18 since 1 95 1 the Greek Archaeological Service has been entirely
responsible for the conservation and maintenance of Knossos.
The problem of the maintenance of the site, particularly in light
of the growing number of visitors, was deemed serious enough to war­
rant mention in a 1 9 5 1 article in the Times of London that states: "There is
also the problem of future maintenance. Growing suburbs of Herakleion
(formerly Candia) are already within walking distance; a vast sanatorium
will soon break the skyline; while restaurants, cafes, and shacks, with noc­
turnal radio, occupy adjacent freeholds which the school cannot afford to
buy out. At week-ends and festivals, which are frequent in Crete, the
palace is thronged by hundreds of local visitors, many of whom regard it
rather as a recreation ground than an ancient site, and need supervision if
damage is to be avoided" (Myres 1 95 1 : 7) .

Recent excavations

Much supplementary archaeological work has been carried out on the

immediate palace site. Most of it has focused on closer study and reinter­
pretation of materials excavated by Evans, including closer scrutiny of the
photographs, plans, drawings, notebooks, and labels of the early excava­
tors.19 More recent excavations have concentrated on the Minoan town, as
well as on the pre- and post-Minoan areas in and around the palace.
Although excavations in the area of the site beyond the palace
were initiated in 1 900 by D. G. Hogarth (Hogarth 1 899-1 900), and much
work-in terms of both excavation and restoration-was conducted by
Evans himself (Evans 1 9 1 1-14), the great extent of the site assured future
researchers of new discoveries. Many of these were made in the years fol­
lowing the Second World War, and they continue to be made.20 Recent
excavations have pushed back the prehistory of the site to an even more
remote past, in addition to clarifying much of the history of the site in the
pre-Palatial Bronze Age. The Neolithic settlement of Knossos, mostly
located below the palace itself and first uncovered by Evans, was excavated
more thoroughly by J. D. Evans between 1 95 7 and 1 970 (Evans 1 964, 1 97 1 ,
1 994; Warren e t al. 1 968; Furness 1 953). During these excavations, large ­
areas of the Central Court, as well as smaller parts of the West Court and
elsewhere, were investigated (Hood and Smyth 1 98 1 :6). Early Iron Age,
Greek, Hellenistic, Roman, and early Byzantine Knossos prior to the Arab
invasion have received much attention in the years since Arthur Evans, and
numerous excavations have been conducted in the area beyond the palace
(Brock 1 957; Coldstream 1 973; Sackett et al. 1 992; Hood and Smyth
1 98 1 : 1 6-27; Myers, Myers, and Cadogan 1992 : 1 45-46).

Recent conservation, maintenance problem s ,

a n d future plans

The most recent conservation and maintenance efforts at Knossos have

focused on repairs to Evans's reconstruction and on visitor management.
 KN O S S O S 1 13

The extensive use of reinforced concrete earlier in this century, the process
of natural weathering, and the incidence of mass tourism have combined
to create a difficult conservation challenge-not only for the fabric of the
original monument but also for that of Evans's restoration. In certain
parts of the reconstructed palace, the concrete poured almost seventy
years ago has decayed, exposing many of the reinforcing iron girders,
which have themselves begun to decay, thereby threatening the entire
structure (Fig. 27). In other parts of the palace, reinforced concrete was
used in places where it proved to be structurally unsoundY Moreover,
because he often poured concrete directly onto original remains, Evans's
interventions are largely irreversible. This practice has necessitated recent
repair, consolidation, and additional support, not only to the original fab­
ric but also to Evans's restorations.
A second source of problems is the arrival of mass tourism on
the site. The onslaught, especially during the summer months, of large
groups of visitors, many of which arrive at the same time because of their
tour schedules, has placed great pressure on both the original fabric of
the monument and on the structural integrity of the restoration.
Expanses of original paving, for example, have been much eroded, both
by natural weathering and by foot traffic; in many formerly paved areas,
all that survives is the concrete setting poured by Evans around original
flagstones (Fig. 28).
Many other parts of Evans's restoration have also been adversely
affected by direct human contact (Fig. 29). Sections of the palace have been
closed to public access for some time for repair, and a visitor management
plan is needed. Almost fifteen years ago the Greek government declared its
intent to proceed with such a plan, and in 1993, the study subsequently
commissioned was carried out by Dr. Clairy Palyvou. Although funding for

Figure 2 7
Detail o f exposed and decaying iron supports
in the roof of the Domestic Quarter, 1 994.
The extensive use of reinforced concrete ear­
lier in this century, the natural process of
weathering, and mass tourism have combined
to create a difficult conservation challenge,
not only for the fabric of the original monu­
ment but also for that of Arthur Evans's
restoration.
1 14 Pap a d op o u los

Figure 2 8
East-West Corridor o f the Domestic Quarter,
viewed from the west, 1994. While the origi­
nal paving slabs have been largely eroded by
natural weathering as well as foot traffic, the
concrete poured in 1928 is often much better
preserved. Damage and wear, the effects of
which are seen here, have prompted the
recent conservation of both the original fabric
of the palace and that of Evans's restoration;
moreover, these concerns necessitated a visi­
tor management plan.

Figure 2 9
Visitors i n the Central Court, viewed from
the northwest, 1994. Largely the product of
a single man's vision and interpretation, the
palace is one of the best-known and most­
visited archaeological sites in Greece and the
Mediterranean (see Tables 1-7). Because of
similar tour schedules, large groups of
visitors arrive during the summer months at
the same time; their onset has placed great
pressure both on the original fabric of the
monument and on the structural integrity of
the restoration.

its implementation was approved by vote in 1 995, the plan has not yet gone
into effect.zz Future plans for the palace have also been strongly influenced
by a growing literature on various technical advances-such as an improved
understanding of the physical properties of the original fabric, as well as
seismic hazard assessments (see, among other recent studies, Papageorgakis
and Mposkos 1 988; Makropoulos, Drakopoulos, and Tselentis 1988;
Brachert 1 99 1 ; Moraiti and Christaras 1 992).
 KNOSSOS 1 15

An archaeological site like Knossos has many values, some of which have
Issues Addressed
already been mentioned. When decisions are made about a site, attempts
to uphold all the values can create immediate conflicts; problems can also
arise later when certain values are given preeminence over others. In the
case of Knossos, many of the key issues that require attention stem from
the reconstruction and restoration carried out by Sir Arthur Evans. The
restoration, one of the largest and earliest of its kind, has placed the his­
torical and scientific values in conflict with some of the social and eco­
nomic values. The need to balance the historical values of a site and its
surroundings with the demands of mass tourism is an issue common to
many archaeological sites in the Mediterranean. At the same time, the
example of Knossos emphasizes certain issues more clearly than others.
Among these, the following may be singled out for discussion.

Prominence given to one historic phase

Evans's restoration, although in part representing an amalgam of various

Minoan phases, disregards significant earlier and later remains at the site.
The casual visitor-and often even the specialist-can forget that Knossos
is the largest Neolithic site on Crete (the excavated Neolithic remains are
largely reburied under the Central and West Courts of the later palace)
and, along with Gortyna, is one of the two largest Greek and Roman sites
on the island. During the early Iron Age ( 1 1 00-600 B.C.E.), Knossos may
have been a large and thriving urban nucleus (Coldstream 1 991). Evans's
restoration not only neglects the historical significance of the site during
other periods but, in fact, actively hides their remains. Similarly, of the
numerous monuments excavated within the vicinity of the palace, the
ones that have been restored are mostly of the Minoan period.

Extent and accuracy of the restoration

The scale and extent of Evans's reconstruction and restoration have posed
a number of problems for the subsequent study of the original remains. In
certain parts of the monument, it is difficult to distinguish original archi­
tectural elements from restored ones, and in other parts it is often difficult
to establish whether original elements incorporated in the reconstruction
are in their original positions or have instead been moved from elsewhere .
Indeed, the impact of these problems on future research on the original
remains was a concern expressed as early as 1 927 by the preSident of the
Society of Antiquaries of London.23
The question of the accuracy of the restoration in light of current
research and knowledge has received much attention. Because of the
meticulous photographic records kept by the excavators, and especially
of the detailed notebooks of daily activities maintained by Duncan
Mackenzie, Evans's assistant and supervising field archaeologist, it is
possible to reconstruct, to a certain extent, some of the elements of
Evans's restoration. It is clear, for example, that some details of the restora­
tion are wrong-the position of certain frescoes, even the number of floors
in parts of the monument.24 Moreover, some parts of the palace were
1 16 Pap a d op o u l os

restored on the basis of fragmentary, and perhaps little-understood, Minoan

iconography, whereas others were restored in the light of the architec­
tural fashion of the day. This is most noticeable in the area of and around
the Throne Room, parts of which closely resemble Art Nouveau and Art
Deco buildings of the 1 920s (see especially Figs. 12, 22). Furthermore,
although Evans's expressed aim was to preserve the record of the upper
floors of the building revealed by the process of excavation (Evans
1 927:258), the use that some of the restored upper stories were put to
was not always commensurate with Minoan practice. A good example is
the "picture gallery" above the Throne Room, an entirely modern upper
story used for the display of replicas of frescoes from various parts of the
palace.

Introduction of modern building materials

Related to the issue of accuracy, but itself a source of further problems,

is the heavy reliance on reinforced concrete, a material alien to the original
building. Regarded by Evans as a virtual panacea, reinforced concrete
permitted more substantial solutions than wood or iron girders could
afford.z5 Quite apart from the issue of the compatibility of reinforced
concrete with the original fabric of the monument is the whole question
of reconstruction in permanent or semipermanent materials that do not
permit reversibility.

Historical identity of Evans's restoration

Perhaps more so than for any other archaeological monument in the

Mediterranean, the restoration of the palace at Knossos-as distinct from
the original building-has developed its own historical identity. Largely
the result of one man's vision and interpretation, the palace is one of
the best-known and most-visited archaeological sites in Greece and the
Mediterranean (Tables 1-7). Evans's restoration has irself assumed histori­
cal Significance; this is nowhere more obvious than in the most recent con­
servation at the site, which has focused on repairing and consolidating the
reinforced concrete poured by Evans. There has even been reluctance to
cut down any of the trees planted by Evans, even ones that have interfered
with recent excavations or that threaten various parts of the palace.

Long-term maintenance of the site

The example of Knossos raises the question of responsibility for long-term

conservation and maintenance-an issue common to many Mediterranean
archaeological sites where excavations have been conducted by members
of foreign schools or institutions. The excavations at Knossos constitute
one of the most visible, long-term projects undertaken by a foreign school
in Greece. Following Evans, several generations of British scholars worked
on the palace itself, as well as on many other buildings and cemeteries of
various periods at the site. Although the scholarly work on Knossos,
including a long list of prestigious publications, has been mainly carried
out by members of a foreign school, the direct responsibility for conserva-
 KNOSSOS 1 17

tion and maintenance has fallen since 1 95 1 on the shoulders of a national

authority, the Greek Archaeological Service. This history raises the issue of
the role currently played, or to be played, by foreign institutions in the
protection of the cultural resources of a host nation.

This study would not have been possible without the support and coopera­
Acknowledgments
tion of the Greek Ministry of Culture and, particularly, of the director of
antiquities, Dr. Yiannis Tsedakis, and his staff. Among others, Dr. Jordan
Dimakopoulos discussed various aspects of the project during its early
stages and provided much useful advice. From the very outset, the gener­
ous and unstinting support of the Heraklion Ephoreia assured its success.
Special thanks are due to the ephor for prehistoric and classical antiquities
at Heraklion, Dr. Alexandra Karetsou. She gave freely of her time and
energy and placed at the author's disposal all the various records and other
information pertaining to Knossos and its surrounds (especially the infor­
mation provided in Tables 5-7), as well as providing access to all parts of
the archaeological site. Thanks are also due to the members of her staff,
particularly Dr. Georgios Rethemiotakis. Various members of the British
School of Archaeology at Athens have contributed greatly to the project.
In this respect, thanks are due to the successive directors of the school,
Dr. Elizabeth French and the late Dr. Martin Price, and especially to
Dr. Colin Macdonald, the Knossos curator. Together Dr. Macdonald and
Dr. Rethemiotakis were instrumental in facilitating the conference site
visit. The extensive archives of Sir Arthur Evans, including the excavation
daybooks and the original photographs, now held in the Ashmolean
Museum, Oxford, were placed at the author's disposal by the keeper of
antiquities, Dr. P. R. S. Moorey; thanks are owed to him, as well as to
Dr. Andrew Sherratt and Dr. Michael Vickers, senior assistant keepers.
From the very outset of this project, the author has benefited greatly
from numerous discussions with Dr. Clairy Palyvou, to whom he is most
grateful. He has drawn heavily on both her encyclopedic knowledge of
Minoan architecture and, particularly, her detailed knowledge of Knossos.
Finally, the author wishes to thank his colleagues Dr. Martha Demas and
Dr. Nicholas Stanley-Price for the pleasure of their company, as well as for
initiating a novice into the mysteries of site management.

1. Thus the title of Evans's four·volume account of his excavations at Knossos (Evans 192 1 ,
Notes 1 928. 1930. 1935). The building o n the Kephala Hill was interpreted a s a palace soon after the
original excavations by Minos Kalokairinos; thus Heinrich Schliemann. Wilhelm Dorpfeld.
and Ernst Fabricius thought that the remains uncovered by Kalokairinos belonged to a
Mycenaean palace (Evans 1899-1900:4; cf. Haussoullier 1 880; Fabricius 1 886). The American
W J. Stillman believed the remains to be the legendary labyrinth (Stillman 1 880-8 1 ) . For the
contemporary excavations in the town and cemeteries. see Hogarth ( 1 899-1900).

2. The site is located at 3 5 ° 1 8 ' north. 2 5 ° 1 0 ' east. See further Myers. Myers. and Cadogan
( 1 992 : 1 34-36). including a brief summary of the geomorphology of the area. The physical
environment of the Knossos area is also overviewed by Roberts in Hood and Smyth ( 1 9 8 1 :5);
see also Hood and Taylor ( 1 9 8 1 : 1).
118 Pap a d o p o u l o s

3. The area stretches from the road bridge over the streambed north o f Ayios Ioannis i n the
north to Spilia in the south, and from the summit of Ailias (Ayios Elias) on the east to
Fortetsa in the west (Hood and Smyth 1 98 1 ) .

4. These are clearly marked o n the map (Hood and Smyth 1 9 8 1 ) and include the modern vil­
lage of Knossos (formerly Bougada Metochi) west of the palace; Makryteichos on the west
bank of the Kairatos, northeast of the palace; Fortetsa, Ambelokipi (Teke) and Ayios Ioannis
to the west and north; and Kallithea (Babali) to the northeast.

5. As early as 1 92 7 Arthur Evans could claim, 'i\lthough in the work of conservation and recon­
stitution of the upper stories new lines have been recently struck out at Pompeii, at Ostia,
and elsewhere, it may be fairly said that they have followed the example already set on the
site of Knossos, where the work has now proceeded with successively improving methods
for twenty-six years" (Evans 1 927:258).

6. Much of this is related by the Athenian historian Thucydides ( 1 .4), writing in the fifth cen­
tury B.C.E.

7. The reaction of most modern visitors-including those of the conference-to Evans's

interventions is sympathetic, if not favorable. See the comments in Stanley-Price and
Sullivan ( 1 995).

8. Evans was particularly interested in an early form of Aegean writing, predating alphabetic
Greek; see Evans ( 1 894:270-372; 1899-1900). He writes, "The curious signs on the gypsum
blocks seemed to have a bearing on the special object of my investigations, the existence,
namely, in Crete of a prehistoric system of writing" (Evans 1 899-1900:4). Evans's expecta­
tions were rewarded with the discovery of Linear B tablets from the first season of excava­
tions. See also Evans ( 1 908, 1 909).

9. Among the specialists was Duncan Mackenzie (Fig. 1 7) , Evans's assistant and the supervising
field archaeologist responsible for much of the excavation documentation; he was recently
described as one of the first scientific workers in the Aegean (Brown 1983: 19; Momigliano
1 995). As architects, Evans also employed Theodore Fyfe ( 1 900-1904) and later Christian
Doll ( 1 905-10) (Fig. 1 7). It was Fyfe who drew the first general plan of the site (published in
Evans 1899-1 900:pls. 1 2 , 13); he later went on to become the director of the Cambridge
School of Architecture (1 922-36) and was the first to publish a paper fully devoted to the
conservation and restoration of the palace (Fyfe 1 926). C. C. T. Doll, then architectural stu­
dent of the British School at Athens, was responsible for the massive task of restoring the
Grand Staircase of the Domestic Quarter (see Evans 1 904-5:23-26; 1927). Evans was also
able to afford the services of the Swiss artist Emile Gillieron-who first visited the site as
early as 1 900-and later of his son Edouard, who were both responsible for restoring the
frescoes. The elder Gillieron served as professor of drawing to the royal Greek court; he also
ran a business in Athens making copies of ancient works of art. Even the first foreman of
the excavation, Gregorios Antoniou, brought from Cyprus, was an experienced excavator,
having spent his youth robbing tombs in Cyprus; in later years he assisted D. G. Hogarth on
excavations in Cyprus and Crete (Brown 1983: 1 5) .

10. See Hood and Taylor (1981 :5). The names used b y Evans for the various parts o f the palace
are often hypothetical, even fanciful; although they can sometimes be bewildering, they have
been in constant use by scholars throughout this century and thus have entered into com­
mon archaeological usage (Hood and Taylor 1 98 1 :7). For this reason, they are considered to
be proper names, rather than descriptive references to the site.

11. The wooden columns were modeled after those depicted in various fresco fragments discov­
ered in 1 904. Many of the iron girders, imported to Crete at great expense, had fallen into
the harbor during their unloading at Heraklion (Brown 1 983:81).

1 2. See Shaw ( 1 97 1 ) . The fragility of the remains is vividly described by the Italian anthropolo­
gist Angelo Mosso. In 1 907 he wrote, with reference to the Minoan palace of Phaistos, exca­
vated by the Scuola Archeologica di Atene e delle Missioni Italiane in Oriente:

The alabaster, from its exposure to the weather, has lost the ivory polish and
transparency, and has now the grey shade of melted silver. The water which has
flowed over it has dried up the azure and roseate veins which had had the effect of
 KN O S S O S 1 19

arabesques upon a pearl-coloured ground. I grieved to think that I was probably

the last to contemplate the rose-tinted squares of this fine pavement, and I felt both
sad and uneasy as I walked upon the slabs, which creaked and splintered as if it
were a thin layer of ice upon the marble. Some of the blocks are black as velvet
from the action of fire, while others are pure white, and have become like sponge
beneath the corroding rain, giving the effect of snow on ice or of hailstones
heaped up in a ditch after a storm.
Within a century the palaces of Ph<£stos will exist no longer, and the ruins
will only be seen in books. These witnesses of prim<£val civilisation are inevitably
condemned to disappear; everything even to the last vestige will crumble to dust
and be dispersed by the wind, or will be dissolved into mud, which the rivulets of
rain will carry far off to trouble the waters of the river.
In a few years' time nothing will remain but a limestone skeleton; the
alabaster stairs will be destroyed, the decoration of the pavements and the incrusta­
tion of the walls will have vanished.
In perplexity we watch the ruin of the ruins. The clouds and the sun will
devour the sacred relics of that civilisation which was the mother of our own. The
vision of these remains brought back to the light has been like a flower which has
bloomed unexpectedly to show us the beauty and perfume of pre-Hellenic art-it
will disappear sadly, inevitably, but its fragrance, its fruitful germs will last beyond
the limits of time. (Mosso 1 907:66-68)

13. Although Mackenzie still served as Evans's assistant, much of the work of reconstruction
was supervised at this time by the architect-draftsman Piet de Jong. Appointed in 1922,
de Jong went on to serve as Knossos curator ( 1947-52) and was involved with the site until
his death in 1967 (Brown 1983:30).

14. For contemporary criticisms of Evans's work, see the published discussion in Evans
( 1 927:266-67); see also Picard ( 1 932:3-18, 49-60, 105-16) and Graham (1962, especially p. 26).
For a more recent view, see Bintliff (1984). It is interesting to contrast the view of the youth­
ful Hazel ffennell (her spelling), who visited the site in 1922 (prior to the extensive use of
reinforced concrete) and was greatly unimpressed by the ruins; her thoughts on the site are
quoted in Brown ( 1 983: 58).

1 5. It was also during this phase, on the evening of 26 June 1926, that a severe earthquake struck
the area, at a time when Evans and his team were at Knossos. The site itself, including the
restorations completed up to that time, was not adversely affected. The same was not true,
however, for the Archaeological Museum of Heraklion, which housed the more important
finds from Knossos and numerous other sites in Crete. The most telling photographs of the
damage caused to the museum and to individual objects within it were published in the
newspaper the Sphere ( 1 926 : 1 37).

1 6. It should be noted that since 1955, all roofing has been constructed of lightweight translu­
cent material supported on thin steel poles.

1 7. Evans built the Villa Ariadne for himself near the site in 1 906-7 (its construction was super­
vised by Christian Doll, and it incorporated many of the same architectural details used in
the reconstruction of the palace) (Brown 1983:30; Powell 1973). In 1931 Evans returned to
Crete and, with John Pendlebury and Piet de Jong, excavated the Temple Tomb. His final
visit to the site was in 1935, when he was honored with a ceremony and the unveiling of the
bronze bust dedicated to him; the bust still stands in the West Court. He died six years later,
at the age of ninety, at his home on Boars Hill at Oxford.

1 8. A useful account of these transactions was published in an article written by Professor Sir
John Myres ( 1 9 5 1 :7). Among other things, Myres states, "The visitors' fees imposed by the
Greek Government went to the Department of Antiquities, not to the school." Myres
appears to imply that the British School may have been able to maintain the site if it had had
access to the income from visitors' fees.

1 9. See, among many other studies, the following monographs: Popham ( 1964, 1970); Palmer
and Boardman (who present opposing views) ( 1 963); Palmer ( 1 969); Raison ( 1 969, 1988);
Hallager ( 1 977); Niemeier ( 1985); and Driessen ( 1990). Numerous articles on the subject are
listed in Myers, Myers, and Cadogan ( 1 992 : 1 4 1-42).
120 Pap a d o p o u l o s

20. For a recent bibliography see Myers, Myers, and Cadogan ( 1 992 : 1 42-43). For a complete sur­
vey of the Knossos area in the Bronze Age, see Hood and Smyth ( 1 98 1 :6-15); see also vari­
ous papers in Evely, Hughes-Brock, and Momigliano ( 1 994). For the excavation of the
"Unexplored Mansion," see Popham et al. ( 1 984).

21. For example, reinforced concrete was used in the restorations to represent woodwork, as well
as other materials (Fyfe 1926:479). The fact that concrete was used to reproduce or replace
wood, even in those parts where the original woodwork served a structural function that
concrete could not duplicate, has resulted in problems unforeseen by Evans and his collabora­
tors. These problems stem from the fact that concrete does not behave like wood or like
other materials used in the original construction. The recent repairs to the South House at
Knossos under the supervision of the Heraklion Ephoreia of Antiquities are a case in point;
those repairs have largely focused on consolidating and supporting Evans's restorations.

22. The plan prepared by Dr. Palyvou, which in part entailed designing a route (or routes) for
visitors to the site of the palace of Knossos, essentially aimed to provide special passageways,
ramps, and wooden stairs in order to minimize the direct contact of visitors both with the
original fabric of the monument and with Evans's restoration. The plan catered to tourist
groups as well as to single visitors, and it offered several alternative routes, of varying dura­
tion, around the site. It also aimed to provide more information for the visitor on the site.
An announcement of the plan, estimated to cost 120 million drachmas, was published in the
Greek press on 24 November 1994 (see, for example, Kathimerini 1 994). According to the
press reports, the minister of culture and the general secretary of the Ministry of Culture
had approved the spending of 100 million drachmas on the project. As recently as 31 May
1 996, however, there was little progress, and a number of archaeologists and other workers
responsible for the site issued a statement urging the commencement of maintenance work
on the monument (see AegeaNet 1 996).

23. In the discussion following Evans's paper, the president of the sociery noted that "caution
was necessary, as repairs might be taken in the future for original work" (Evans 1927:267).

24. The position of the Dolphin Fresco, for example, restored above the door of the Queen's
Megaron, has been questioned by Robert Koehl, who has argued that it was more likely a
floor fresco from the story above (Koehl 1986). Elsewhere, the various phases of the recon­
struction of the Stepped Portico, south of the Throne Room, that led up from the Central
Court to the upper floor, or Piano Nobile, were carefully recorded in a series of photographs
dating from 1 904 through 1 930 (Brown 1 983: pls. 25-27; see also Figs. 7-12 herein). In addi­
tion to the steps leading to the upper floor, a further flight gave access either to a second
floor or to the roof. With regard to this flight, Brown states, "Mackenzie thought, probably
wrongly, that two slabs forming a 'seat' in the Room of the Chariot Tablets were steps from
here" (Brown 1 983:42).

25. The use of reinforced concrete (beton arme) is praised and discussed in detail in Evans ( 1 927);
compare Fyfe ( 1 926:479).

AegeaNet
References 1 996 Summary report, cited I June at AegeaNet
(http: // www.duke.edu / web /jyounger / aegeanet.html).

Aposkitou, M .
1979 MivwS KaAoKalplvos . EKaw XPOVLa OltO nlv ltPro't1l ovacrKa<l>il TIis Kvwcrcrou
(Minos Kalokairinos: Hekato chronia apo ten prote anaskaphe tes Knossou;
Minos Kalakairinos: One hundred years since the first excavation of Knossos).
Kretologia 8 : 8 1 -94 .

Bammer, A.
1990 Wien und Kreta: Jugendstil und minoische Kunst. Jahrbuch des Osterreichen
Archdologischen Instituts 60:29- 1 5 1 .
 KNOSS O S 121

Baiant, J.
1992 Minos I. In Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae, vol. 6, 570-74.
Zurich: Artemis.

Bintliff, J. L.
1984 Structuralism and myth in Minoan studies. Antiquity 58:33-38.

Brachert, T.
1991 Der Verfall minoisch-mykenischer Naturgips-Inktustationen. Restauro: Zcitschrift fur
Kunsttechniken und Museumsgragen 3 : 1 79-82.

Brock, J. K.
1957 Fortetsa: Early Greek Tombs near Knossos. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Brown, A.
1983 Arthur Evans and the Palace of Minos. Oxford: Ashmolean Museum.

1986 I propose to begin at Gnossos. Annual of the British School at Athens 8 1 :3 7-44.

Cadogan, G.
1 976 The Palaces of Minoan Crete. London: Methuen.

Castleden, R.
1 990 The Knossos Labyrinth: A New View of the "Palace of Minos" at Knossos. London:
Routledge.

Coldstream, J. N., ed.

1 973 Knossos: The Sanctuary of Demeter. London: British School of Archaeology at Athens.

1991 Knossos: An urban nucleus in the Dark Age? In La transizione dal Miceneo all'Alto
Arcaismo: Dal palazzo alla citrd. Atti del Convegno Internazionale a Roma, 14--1 9 marzo 1 988,
ed. D. Musti et aI., 287-99. Rome: n.p.

Driessen, J.
1990 An Early Destruction in the Mycenaean Palace at Knossos: A New Interpretation of the
Excavation Field-Notes of the South-East Area of the West Wing. Acta Archaeologica
Lovanensia Monographiae, vol. 2. Louvain: Katholieke Universiteit Leuven.

Evans, A. J.
1894 Primitive pictographs and a prae-Phoenician script, from Crete and the Peloponnese.
Journal of Hellenic Studies 1 4 :270-372.

1 899-1900 Knossos: Summary report of the excavations in 1 900. 1. The Palace. Annual of the
British School at Athens 6:3-70.

1900-1901 The palace of Knossos: Provisional report of the excavations for the year 1 9 0 1 . Annual
of the British School at Athens 7: 1-120.

190 1-2 The palace of Knossos: Provisional report of the excavations for the year 1902. Annual
of the British School at Athens 8: 1-124.

1 902-3 The palace of Knossos: Provisional report for the year 1903. Annual of the British School
at Athens 9: 1-153.

1903-4 The palace of Knossos. Annual of the British School at Athens 1 0 : 1-62.

1904-5 The palace of Knossos and its dependencies. Provisional report for the year 1905.
Annual of the British School at Athens 1 1 : 1-26.
122 Pap a d op o u l o s

1 908 The diffusion of pictography and its bearing on the origin of script. In Anthropology and
the Classics: Six Lectures Delivered before the University of Oxford, ed. R. R. Marett, 9-43.
Oxford: Oxford Universiry Press.

1909 Scripta Minoa: The Written Documents of Minoan Crete with Special Reference to the Archives
of Knossos. Vol. 1 , The Hieroglyphic and Primitive Classes with an Account of the Discovery of
the Pre-Phoenician Scripts, Their Place in Minoan Story, and Their Mediterranean Relations.
Oxford: Oxford Universiry Press.

1 9 1 1-14 The "Tomb of the Double Axes" and associated group, and the Pillar Room and ritual
vessels of the "Little Palace" at Knossos. Archaeologia 6 5 :59-94.

1921 The Palace of Minos. A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan
Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos. Vol. 1 , The Neolithic and Early and
Middle Minoan Ages. London: Macmillan.

1927 Work of reconstitution in the palace of Knossos. Antiquaries journal 7:258-67.

1 928 The Palace of Minos. A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan
Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos. Vol. 2, pts. 1 , 2 . London:
Macmillan.

1930 The Palace of Minos. A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan
Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos. Vol. 3, The Great Transitional Age in
the Northern and Eastern Sections of the Palace: The Most Brilliant Records of Minoan Art
and the Evidence of an Advanced Religion. London: Macmillan.

1935 The Palace of Minos. A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan
Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos. Vol. 4, pts. 1, 2. London:
Macmillan.

Evans, J. D.
1964 Excavations in the Neolithic settlement at Knossos, 1 957-1960, Part 1. Annual of the
British School at Athens 59:132-249.

1 971 Neolithic Knossos: The growth of a settlement. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society
37(2):95-1 1 7.

1 994 The early millennia: Continuiry and change in a farming settlement. In Knossos: A
Labyrinth of History. Papers Presented in Honour of Sinclair Hood, ed. D. Evely, H. Hughes­
Brock, and N. Momigliano, 1-20. Athens: British School at Athens.

Evans, Joan
1943 Time and Chance: The Story of Arthur Evans and His Forebears. London: Longman's,
Green.

Evely, D., H. Hughes-Brock, and N. Momigliano, eds.

1 994 Knossos: A Labyrinth of History. Papers Presented in Honour of Sinclair Hood. Athens:
British School at Athens.

Fabricius, E.
1 886 Alterthiimer auf Kreta. 4. Funde der mykenaischen Epoche in Knossos. Mitteilungen des
deutschen archiiologischen [nstituts in Athen 1 1 : 13 5-49.

Farnoux, A.
1 993 Cnossos: L'archeologie d'un reve. Paris: Gallimard.

Furness, A.
1953 The Neolithic pottery of Knossos. Annual of the British School at Athens 48:94-134.
 KN O S S O S 123

Fyfe, T.
1 926 The palace of Knossos: An example in conservation. Journal of the Royal Institute of
British Architects, 26 June:479-80.

Graham,]. W
1 962 The Palaces of Crete. (Rev. eds., 1969, 1 987.) Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.

Hiigg, R., and N. Marinatos, eds.

1987 The Function of Minoan Palaces. Proceedings of the Fourth International Symposium at the
Swedish Institute at Athens, 10-16}une 1 984. Stockholm: Svenska institutet i Athen.

H allager, E .
1977 The Mycenaean Palace at Knossos: Evidence for Final Destruction in the IIIB Period.
Stockholm: Medelhavsmuseet.

Harden, D. B .
1983 Sir Arthur Evans: A Memoir. Oxford: Ashmolean Museum.

Haussoullier, B.
1880 Vases peints archalques decouverts a Knossos (Crete). Bulletin de correspondance
he/Unique 4 : 1 24-27.

Hogarth, D. G.
1 899-1900 Knossos: Summary report of the excavations in 1 900. 2 . Early town and cemeteries.
Annual of the British School at Athens 6: 70-85.

Hood, S.
1987 An early British interest at Knossos. Annual of the British School at Athens 82:85-94.

Hood, S., and D. Smyth

1981 Archaeological Survey of the Knossos Area. Oxford: British School at Athens.

Hood, S., and W. Taylor

1981 The Bronze Age Palace at Knossos: Plans and Sections. London: Thames and Hudson.

Horwitz, S. L.
198 1 The Find of a Lifetime: Sir Arthur Evans and the Discovery of Knossos. New York: Viking.

Karo, G.
1959 Greifen am Thron. Erinnerungen an Knossos. Baden-Baden: B. Grimm.

Kathimerini
1994 Kathimerini (Athens), 24 November.

Koehl, Robert B.
1 986 A marinescape floor from the palace at Knossos. American}ournal of Archaeology
90:407- 1 7.

Makropoulos, K. c . , J. K. Drakopoulos, and G. A. Tselentis

1988 Seismic hazard assessment and its contribution to the ancient monument protection­
a case history in Greece. In The Engineering Geology of Ancient Works, Monuments, and
Historical Sites: Preservation and Protection, Proceedings of an International Symposium
Organized by the Greek National Group of the IAEG [International Association of Engineering
Geology], Athens, 1 9-23 September 1 988, ed. P. G. Marinos and G. C. Koukis, vol. 3 ,
1265-7 1 . Rotterdam: A . A. Balkema Publishers.

Momigliano, N.
1 995 Duncan Mackenzie: A Cautious Canny Highlander. In Klados: Essays in Honour ofJ. N.
Coldstream, ed. C . Morris, 163-70. London: Institute of Classical Studies.
1 24 Pap a d o p o u l o s

Moraiti, E., and B . Christaras

1992 Weathering of marly and biogenic limestones used in the antiquities of Crete, Greece:
Stratigraphy and mechanical consideration. In La conservation des monuments dans Ie
bassin mediterranee. Actes du 2eme symposium international, Geneve, 1 9-21 novembre 1 991,
ed. O. Oecrouez, J. Chamay, and F. Zezza, 483-92. Geneva: Musee d'art et d'histoire.

Morris, S. P.
1992 Daidalos and the Origins of Greek Art. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press.

Mosso, Angelo
1907 The Palaces of Crete and Their Builders. New York: G. P Putnam's Sons.

Myres, J.
1951 The palace a t Knossos: British estate offered t o the Greek government. Times
(London), 14 July.

Myers, J. w., E. E. Myers, and G. Cadogan

1992 The Aerial Atlas of Ancient Crete. Berkeley: University of California Press.

Niemeier, w.-O.
1 985 Die Palaststilkeramik von Knossos: Stil, Chronologie und historischer Kontext.
Archaologischen Forschungen, vol. 1 3 . Berlin: Mann.

Palmer, L. R.
1969 The Penultimate Palace of Knossos. Incunabula Graeca, vol. 33. Rome: Edizioni
dell' Ateneo.

Palmer, L. R., and J. Boardman

1 963 On the Knossos Tablets. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Papageorgakis, J., and E. Mposkos

1988 Building stones of the Minoan palace of Knossos. In The Engineering Geology of Ancient
Works, Monuments, and Historical Sites: Preservation and Protection, ed. P G. Marinos and
G. C. Koukis, vol. 2, 649-59. Rotterdam: A. A. Balkema Publishers.

Picard, C.
1932 Au pays du griffon: Cnossos ressuscitee. La revue de l'art 4 1 : 3-18, 49-60, 105-16.

Popham, M . R.
1964 The Last Days of the Palace at Knossos: Complete Vases of the Late Minoan fIlB Period. Lund,
Sweden: Carl Bloms Boktryckeri.

1970 The Destruction of tile Palace at Knossos: Pottery of the Late Minoan IIIA Period. Goteborg,
Sweden: P Astrom.

Popham, M. R., et al.

1984 The Minoan Unexplored Mansion at Knossos. London: Thames and Hudson.

Powell, O.
1 973 The Villa Ariadne. London: n.p.

Raison, J.
1 969 Le grand palais de Knossos: Repertoire photographique et bibliographie. Incunabula
Graeca, vol. 34. Rome: Edizioni dell'Ateneo.

1 988 Le palais du second millenaire a Knossos. Vol. 1, Le quartier nord. Etudes cretoises, vol. 28.
Paris: P. Geuthner.
 KN O S S O S 125

S ackett, L. H . , et al.
1 992 Knossos: From Greek City to Roman Colony. Oxford: British School at Athens.

Shaw, J. W.
1971 Minoan architecture: Materials and techniques. Annuario della Scuola Archeologica di
Atene 49 (n.s. 33).

Sphere
1 926 The Sphere, 31 July.

Stanley-Price, N., and S. Sullivan

1 995 Conservation of archaeological sites in the Mediterranean region: A conference
organized by the J. Paul Getty Trust. Conservation and Management of Archaeological Sites
1 : 1 27-3 1 .

Stillman, W. J.
1 880-8 1 Extracts from letters of W. J. Stillman, respecting ancient sites in Crete. In
Archaeological Institute of America: Appendix to the Second Annual Report of the Executive
Committee, 41-49.

Warren, P. M., M. R. Jarman, H . N. Jarman, N. J. Shackleton, and J. D. Evans

1968 Knossos Neolithic, Part 2. Annual of the British School at Athens 63:239-76.
 127

Eppesus

Martha Demas

U R I N G T H E R O M A N I M P E R I A L P E R I O D, Ephesus had attained

D sufficient ascendancy over her sister cities in the region that her
citizens could proclaim her "the first and greatest city of Asia
Minor." Ephesus achieved this status by virtue of being the capital of the
Roman province of Asia, the largest emporium of the region, and a show­
case of magnificent public buildings and temples, including the famed
Temple of Artemis. Nearly two millennia later, Ephesus can once again
claim primacy-now, however, as the "first and greatest" tourist attraction
in the region. The twentieth-century pursuits of archaeology and tourism
have revitalized the fortunes of this ancient city in a way that could not
have been anticipated even a few decades ago. How long Ephesus will
sustain its new preeminence as a tourist mecca and still retain its integrity
as an archaeological site of great historical significance will depend on
decisions made in the present about how best to manage this rich
inheritance from the past.

The ruins of Ephesus lie at the heart of the Aegean coast of Turkey,
Location and Context
whose shoreline is visible from the island of Samos. Once linked to the
sea by its large inland harbor, Ephesus is now seven kilometers from the
coast and fifteen kilometers from the modern harbor town of Ku�adasl.
The largest modern city of the region, izmir, is seventy-five kilometers to
the north. The modern-day visitor to Ephesus arrives by sea to Ku�adasl
(often via Samos) or overland from izmir.
The designation Ephesus is generally understood to refer to the
main urban core of the Roman city, whose remains are visible today
nestled between Panayirdag (Mount Pion) and Biilbiildag (Mount
Coressus). This area, which was the center of activity in the region for
centuries during the Hellenistic and Roman periods, has now become the
focus of visitors and archaeologists. However, to define Ephesus in such
limited geographical terms is to ignore a long and rich history encompass­
ing two millennia of almost continuous inhabitation. The term Ephesus,
as used in this article, refers to the larger cultural-historical area that
includes not only the Roman city but the Artemisium (comprising the
128 Demas

Temple of Artemis and its immediate surrounds), Saint John's Basilica,

the Isa Bey Mosque , and other monuments in and around the modern
town of Sel<;:uk, as well as the House of Mary in the mountain forest
south of the ancient city (Fig. 1 ) .

The complexity and challenge o f protecting and managing Ephesus lie in

Significance of Ephesus
its scale, the monumentality and diversity of its architecture, the variety of
approaches employed in restoration and interpretation of its monuments
in the course of its history of modern interventions, and the number of
tourists who now visit the site. Overriding all these challenges, however, is
the need to reconcile the multiplicity of often conflicting values attributed
to Ephesus today by those who have an interest in the site or who benefit
from it in one way or another.

Archaeological and historical values

The archaeological and historical values of Ephesus to generations

of scholars and archaeologists are well known and documented. The
Artemisium, the Roman city, and the religious monuments have been
the greatest focus for scholarly and archaeological activity over the last
century and more of investigation. 1 They offer both scholars and visitors
the opportunity to witness the physical evolution of a place over two mil­
lennia and to contemplate the vicissitudes of that history. Of particular
interest in this respect are the many shifts in the location of the city and its
eventual demise in response to the progressive silting up of the harbor­
the economic lifeline of Ephesus.
The historical significance of Ephesus lies in its importance as one
of the twelve cities of Asia Minor founded by the Ionians in the tenth cen­
tury B.C.E. and home of one of the most important and long-lived sanctu­
aries of the ancient world, the Artemisium. Established at least as early as
the eighth century B.C.E. and maintaining an ascendancy in the ancient
world through the initial incursions of Christianity, the Artemisium was
regarded as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.
During the Roman imperial period, Ephesus was the capital of
the province of Asia and was one of the largest and wealthiest of the Asia
Minor cities. With its large inland harbor, it became the great mercantile
center of the region. The well-preserved remains of this vast city have
provided scholars with a wealth of information about private, religious,
and civic life in the Hellenistic and Roman periods and late antiquity.
Despite the loss of its magnificent harbor through silting, Ephesus today
retains to a high degree its integrity as an ancient landscape and as an
exemplar of Hellenistic and Roman architecture and urban planning (Fig. 2).
Archaeological investigations of the religiOUS monuments, in
conjunction with historic texts and inscriptions reflecting the rise of
Christianity, have also contributed significantly to our understanding of
the early history of Christianity and religious architecture in the region.
 EPHESUS 1 29

Aya Soluk
Hill

20
Ancient .of
harbor

KEY
I. Saint John's Basilica
2. Isa Bey Mosque
3. Artemisium
4. Ephesus Museum
5. Stadium
6. Church of Mary
7. Theater
8. Lower (Commercial) Agora
9. Temple of Sera pis
1 0. Ce1sus Library
1 1 . Gate ofMazaus and Mithridates
12. Temple of Hadrian
13. Terrace Houses
14. Fountain ofTrajan
15. Street of the Curetes
16. Memmius Monument
17. Monument ofSextilius Pollio
18. Upper (State) Agora
19. City walls
20. Church of the Seven Sleepers

Figure 1
Plan of Ephesus-Sel�uk.
130 Demas

Figure 2
General view of Ephesus. Ephesus retains
much of its integrity as an ancient landscape
and a model of Hellenistic and Roman archi­
tecture and urban planning. From the
Hellenistic city walls on Biilbiildag (Mount
Coressus), the plan of the City-with its
streets, agora, theater, public buildings, and
private houses-is readily apprehended (see
color plate 3a).

Social value

In the hierarchy of cultural values attributed to Ephesus, social value

ranks very high. The modern town of Sel<;uk derives its identity and sense
of purpose to a large extent from its physical proximity to Ephesus and its
role as caretaker of the ruins and host to the multitude of tourists who
visit the site every year. The cultural heritage of Ephesus is a source of
pride to local inhabitants.
It is, however, the role of Ephesus as the venue for social and cul­
tural events that is critical to understanding the social value of the place
for the local population as well as for transient visitors. Three of the
ancient monuments have long served a modern social purpose. The great
theater of Ephesus has been the venue for two maj or festivals-the Sel<;uk­
Efes Festival, which features traditional Turkish dancers and musicians,
and the International izmir Festival, which attracts classical musicians and
international superstars who regularly fill the theater to its capacity of
twenty thousand (Fig. 3). For the past thirty-three years, a traditional local
festival-known as the Camel Wrestling Festival-has been held every
January in the ancient stadium, making it the longest-running and most­
popular Ephesian event of recent times (Fig. 4). Since its restoration in
1978, the Library of Celsus has been used for a variety of more intimate
social gatherings and cultural events. These festivals and other events have
enhanced the social and cultural life of the local population and have made
the site once again part of the civic fabric of a community.
More subtle in its implications is the limited, but direct, contact
between Greece and Turkey at the level of everyday interaction among
ordinary people. Tourist boats shuttle visitors to Ephesus, taking them
from the island of Samos to the harbor town of Ku§adasl, in a modern
reenactment of the ancient links between these two places. Ephesus is
also a persistent reminder of the ancient culture that once dominated
the region and continues to inform its interpretation in the present.
Contemporary ties, through the ancient city, allow for an awareness-as
well as a degree of familiarity and acceptance-between two modern
cultures that are severed by political events.
 EPHESUS 131

Figure 3

Spectators filling the theater at Ephesus dur­

ing a performance. For many years the theater
was the venue for the International izmir
Festival, which attracted international super­
stars who regularly filled it to its capacity of
twenty thousand. Thus the monument was
once again incorporated into the social and
civic fabric of a community.

Figure 4
Stadium at Ephesus. The ancient stadium has
long been the venue for a popular local event,
the Camel Wrestling Festival, which has
enhanced the value of Ephesus for the local
population.

Symbolic value

As the principal representative of the Hellenistic and Roman cities that

once thrived on the coast of Asia Minor, Ephesus is recognized as a
symbolic link between Turkey and Europe. For instance, the Library of
Celsus-as an embodiment of European values-is used in the marketing
campaign for tourism in Turkey, accompanied by the slogan "Discover the
Undiscovered Europe." At a time when Turkey has been striving to obtain
entry to the European Community, the importance of such national sym­
bols is manifest. At the local level, however, it is the over-life-size statue of
the Ephesian Artemis, with her strong links to the Anatolian goddess
Cybele, who holds pride of place in the modern town of Sel<;uk.
On a more mundane but pervasive level is the use of the name
Ephesus for product identification and commercial establishments; the
term "Efes" (for cigarettes, beer, shops, and so on) provides name recogni­
tion and signifies quality.
132 Demas

Religious value

The history of Ephesus encapsulates to an extraordinary degree the his­

tory of religion in the eastern Mediterranean: pagan, Christian, Muslim,
From a single vantage point one can overlook the three monuments that
symbolize this history: the Artemisium, Saint John's Basilica, and the
Mosque of Isa Bey (Fig. 5). While the pagan worship of Artemis has no
more than historical value in the present, the early Christian monuments
and events at Ephesus still animate the use of the place today and endow
it with contemporary religiOUS value. This is especially true of the two
monuments associated with the Virgin Mary.
The Church of Mary (also referred to as the Double Church or
Council Church) is the place historically associated with the Council of
Ephesus held in 43 1 C.E., at which Mary's role as Mother of God was
debated and affirmed; every October since 1 986, a commemorative mass
has been held in the partially restored ruins of the church (Figs. 6, 7). The
so-called House of Mary (Meryem Ana Evi), a few kilometers south of the
ancient city center, has even greater emotive appeal as the place where,
according to certain ecclesiastical traditions, Mary spent her final days. As
Figure 5
Monuments symbolizing the religious history an important center of Marian worship, the House of Mary receives hun­
of the eastern Mediterranean. From a single dreds of thousands of religious pilgrims-Christian and Muslim-every
vantage point, a visitor can overlook three year, thereby carrying on a venerable tradition established by Mary's pagan
monuments: the pagan Temple of Artemis
predecessor, Artemis (Fig. 8).
(foreground), the Christian Basilica of Saint
John (left), and the Muslim Mosque of Isa
Many other monuments at Ephesus have sustained religious asso­
Bey (right). During much of the year, the ciations, despite a lack of historical validation. These include the Grotto of
re·erected column from the Artemisium is Saint Paul on the slope of Biilbiildag, Saint Paul's Prison, the Tomb of
the only sign of this monument's existence,
Saint Luke, and the Church of the Seven Sleepers on Panayirdag.
since the rest of the remains are covered by
water. The column also serves as a nesting
place for storks. Aesthetic and natural values

Not only does Ephesus retain much of the integrity of its ancient topogra­
phy, it also preserves much of the romantic, pastoral quality of ruins in

Figure 6
Church of Mary, Ephesus. Although only
partially restored, the church remains a
ruin among ruins, with its historical value
left intact.
 EPHESUS 133

Figure 8, a bove
House of Mary, outside Ephesus. While the
monument-fully reconstructed as a chapel in
the 1 950s-has extraordinary religious value
as a center for the veneration of the Virgin
Mary, it has little historical value. The regular
use of the place for masses is consistent with
its religious significance.

Figure 7, a bove nature-the aesthetic value that attracts so many visitors to archaeological
Commemorative mass in the Church of Mary.
sites. By virtue of their status as protected areas, archaeological sites often
In recognition of the church's religious value,
a mass is held annually in the partially
become de facto, unplanned ecological preserves, protecting the natural
restored ruins. value of a place-sometimes to the detriment of the cultural values-by
serving as a refuge for flora and fauna. The Artemisium, whose low-lying
ruins are flooded each winter, provides a seasonal habitat for waterfowl
and other aquatic wildlife. The single re-erected column of the temple
provides a new residential outpost for the storks of the area (Fig. 5), who
had long used the Byzantine aqueduct in Sel«;:uk for nesting, as remarked
upon by John Turtle Wood in 1 870: "The first stork appeared on one of
the piers of the aqueduct at Ayasalouk. It was soon followed by others, till
every pier was occupied by a pair. Sometimes a quarrel took place, and
there was a fight for the possession of a pier, for the sake perhaps of the
old nest, which they leisurely built up again with sticks and twigs brought
from the surrounding fields" (Wood 1 877: 1 60).

Economic value

The parallel development of Ephesus-Sel«;:uk-Ku�adasl as a tourist attrac­

tion and recreational center has brought a measure of prosperity to the
region and has given the site its economic value. There has been a steady
increase of visitors to Ephesus: from 276,000 in 1 960 (when the first
statistics were compiled) to a peak of nearly 1 . 7 million in 1 988 (Fig. 9).
 134 Demas

Ephesus is today the most-developed site in the region. The Municipality

of Selc;:uk. the tourism industry, local businesses, and the national treasury
all benefit directly or indirectly from the attraction of Ephesus to tourists.
scholars, and archaeologists. However. as in many other places, the local
and national authorities who are responsible for the protection and main­
tenance of the site derive little direct economic return from this bounty.

During the century-long transformation from abandoned ruin to tourist

History of Interventions
mecca, Ephesus has borne silent witness to the vicissitudes of twentieth­
century archaeological and restoration theory and practice and to the
growth of the tourist industry. This transformation constitutes the history
of modern Ephesus, whose legacy is as important to the long-term
preservation of the site as that of ancient Ephesus.2

Period 1 : 1 863-1 895

Ephesus has been a compelling presence for adventurers, pilgrims, scholars,

and archaeologists for many centuries. What drew the interest of early
travelers and of pilgrims on their way to the Holy Land were the associa­
tions of Ephesus with the Artemisium and with early Christianity. The
ruins of the city had always been partly visible, and what was not visible­
the Temple of Artemis, in particular-was endlessly imagined by early
visitors; indeed, "the memory of the past may perhaps have led them to
indulge too freely their imagination whilst contemplating the few silent
walls which remain" (Fellows 1 8 3 9 :274) . Early descriptions of the area
reveal it as a sleepy. provinCial, malaria-ridden place, long cut off from the
rest of the world. Nothing could be further from today's "sun and fun"
image of the region than Edward Falkener's description of Ephesus in
1 845: "The city of Ephesus is . . . a desert place: the 'candlestick has been
removed out of this place,'-the flame, the swords, and the pestilence have
done their part; and the land is guarded by Divine vengeance from the
intrusion of thoughtless man, by the scorpion and centipede, by marshes
infested with myriad of serpents, and by attendant fever, dysentery, and
ague" (Falkener 1862:5-6) .

Figure 9
Visitor statistics for Ephesus. Visitor levels 1.8

climbed slowly throughout the 1970s and 1 .6

accelerated rapidly in the 1 980s to attain a
1 .4
peak of 1 .692.000 in 1988. The vulnerability
of tourism to political events is seen in the 1 .2
�
sharp drops in 1974-75. in response to the 0
;.:::l 1 .0
Cyprus crisis. and again in 199 1 . during
1
the Gulf War. � 0.8
8
�
0.6

0.4

0.2

0
1 960 1 965 1 9 70 1 975 1 980 1 985 1 990 1 995
 EPHESUS 135

The railway line from Smyrna (izmir) to Aya Soluk (Selc;uk), com­
pleted in 1 863, opened the region to the outside and made possible the
first real archaeological investigation of Ephesus, which was undertaken
by J. T. Wood from 1 863 to 1 874 (Wood 1 877). The search for the
Artemisium, which drew Wood to Ephesus, constitutes the historical and
archaeological focus for this period (Figs. 1 0 , 1 1 ) . Although Wood found
the remains of the temple in 1 869, the elucidation of the history of the
Artemisium, which spans over a thousand years, has continued almost
unabated to the present. These continuous efforts attest not only to the
difficulties inherent in excavating this low-lying site, which is covered with
water much of the year, but also to the fascination the place holds for
scholars and public alike.3

Period 2 : 1 8 95-1 922

The next period in Ephesus's modern history began in 1 895, at the begin­
ning of Austrian involvement, which continues to the present under the
auspices of the Austrian Archaeological Institute. Although investigation

Figure 1 0
Searching for the Artemisium. The search
for the fabled Temple of Artemis attracted
early travelers to Ephesus, but it was not until
the arrival of John Turtle Wood in 1 863 that
the location of the temple beneath centuries
of accumulated silt was revealed. Unearthing
the historical record of Ephesus was to
remain the principal activity at the site for
nearly a century.

Figure 1 1
Reconstruction of the Temple of Artemis.
Wood's 1 877 reconstruction on paper of the
Temple of Artemis is one of many that have
been done-both before and after the discov­
ery of the physical remains. One advantage of
reconstruction on paper is that it can be easily
updated as new information and alternative
interpretations emerge.
136 Demas

o f the Artemisium continued and was enhanced by D. G. Hogarth's

discovery in 1 904 of a so-called foundation deposit of gold and ivory, the
emphasis began to shift toward the urban center and the Roman public
buildings. Much of the lower Roman city (from the Library of Celsus to
the Harbor Baths) was investigated at this time. Despite a hiatus in the
work during and immediately after the First World War ( 1 9 1 4-20), this
period witnessed extensive, large-scale clearing to reveal the major monu­
ments and the main outlines of the city. In the course of the clearing,
fallen columns were set upright and architectural elements were moved or
stored, but no serious attempts were made to restore the monuments.
Interest in the religious monuments of the Ephesus region was
given new impetus at this time with the excavation of Saint John's Basilica
under G. Sotiriou ( 1 92 1 -22), initiated by the Greek government during
its brief occupation of Asia Minor. The fascinating modern history of
the House of Mary began in 1 89 1 -92, when M. Poulin, superior of the
Lazarists of Smyrna, discovered the ruins of a building in the forest south
of Ephesus; this structure answered to the description of the House of
Mary, as revealed in the early-nineteenth-century vision of a German
nun, Anna Katharina Emmerich. To the inhabitants of the nearby village
of �irince-the oft-proclaimed descendants of the EpheSians-the site had
long been a place of pilgrimage on 15 August in commemoration of the
Assumption of Mary. With the rediscovery of the place by the outside
world, annual pilgrimages sanctioned by the archbishop of Smyrna began
from izmir in 1 896 and from abroad in 1 906.
'The end of this period coincides with the end of a long chapter
of Greek presence in the region, of which Ephesus itself is a symbol.

Period 3 : 1 923-1 953

In 1 923 a new era in modern Turkish history was ushered in with the
proclamation of the Turkish Republic. Behind this changed political sta­
tus was a new national consciousness that had altered in one important
respect the way archaeologists pursued their profession. This was the pro­
hibition in 1 907 against the transport from Turkey of any excavated finds,
a stricture that put an end to the removal of significant architectural and
sculptural pieces from the site of Ephesus, which hitherto had been
exempted. Among the more significant pieces removed to various muse­
ums in Vienna were statues from the Library of Celsus and the Parthian
reliefs reused in the fifth-century fountain at the base of the steps of the
library (Fig. 1 2); architectural members from the so-called Rundbau on
Panayirdag and from the Octagon on the Street of the Curetes; and
altarpieces from the Artemisium.
Excavation of Roman public buildings continued on a limited
scale, but from 1 936 to 1 95 3 , there was an interruption in work, principally
as a result of World War II. Despite the limited activity, this period marks
the beginning of a shift toward a more publicly oriented posture. As late
as 1 936, a traveler to the site could write of Ephesus that it "stands dignified
and alone in its death . . . with no sign of life but a goatherd leaning on a
broken sarcophagus or a lonely peasant outlined against a mournful
 EPHESUS 137

Figure 1 2 sunset. Few people ever visit it. Ephesus has a weird, haunted look."4
Library o f Celsus during excavation, 1903. Romantic hyperbole aside, Ephesus at this time was far from being a
The Parthian frieze (seen in the middle
destination spot for other than the intrepid traveler. Toward the end of
ground) formed part of the fifth-century
reuse of the building; it was removed to this period, however, two events occurred to create a public persona for
Vienna, where it is currently housed in the Ephesus. In 1 9 5 1 the site of Ephesus was officially opened to visitors-a
Neue Hofburg. sign that tourism had begun to play a role in decisions that would be made
about the site. The proclamation of the dogma of the Assumption of
Mary in 1 950 inaugurated a new chapter in the history of the House of
Mary. In 1 95 1 , in anticipation of increased visitation, Turkish authorities
constructed a road to the ruined building, and private organizations initi­
ated its reconstruction as a chapel.

Period 4: 1 9 5 4-1 970

This postwar period saw renewed activity in the investigation of Ephesus,

prinCipally of the monuments of the upper city, from the Terrace Houses
to the Magnesian Gate. This period also marks the beginning of restora­
tion and reconstruction at Ephesus. Monuments that underwent partial
or full restoration or reconstruction during this period include the
Church of Mary ( 1 956, 1 960s); the Baths of Scholastikia ( 1 956-5 8); Saint
John's Basilica ( 1 95 7); the Street of the Curetes ( 1 95 7); the Temple of
Hadrian ( 1 95 7-59); the odeon ( 1 960s); the Fountain of Traj an ( 1 962-63 );
the Gate of Hercules (1 962); the Memmius Monument ( 1 963); the theater
( 1 965-75); the Monument of Sextilius Pollio ( 1 966); and the Fountain of
Domitian ( 1 9 70-7 1 ) . 5
138 Demas

Figure 1 3
Temple o f Hadrian. The restoration o f the
Temple of Hadrian, undertaken in the 1 950s,
attempted to reinstate the historic and artistic
integrity of the monument by presenting a
comprehensible and harmonious whole. Not
all elements were incorporated into the
reconstruction, since some (such as the frieze
on the pronaos) were considered too fragile
or too valuable. In some instances, they were
replaced by copies made of white cement.

Figure 1 4
Monument of Memmius, Ephesus. The 1963
restoration of the Memmius Monument
attempted to convey the fragmentary nature
of monuments and their history of abandon­
ment, collapse, and destruction. Unlike the
treatment of the Temple of Hadrian (Fig. 1 3),
which invites the viewer to imagine the
monument in its original form, this approach
emphasizes the destruction wrought by the
cenruries. The reconstruction deliberately
uses concrete because of the contrast berween
its roughly texrured finish and the smooth
marble surface of the extant original remains.
Since many of the original members are
missing, the placement of extant pieces only
alludes to the original composition of the
monument.

Three of these projects illustrate the diverse approaches taken to

the problem of presenting an incomplete monument.
The earliest restoration was that of the Temple of Hadrian
( 1 9 5 7-59). This work exemplifies a conceptual approach that was to
become rather standard restoration methodology, one that would later be
promulgated in 1 965 in The Venice Charter (see Appendix A) . The intent of
the restoration was to make the monument comprehensible and to present
a harmonious whole-to reinstate the monument's historic and artistic
integrity. To this end, copies of missing elements and those considered too
precious or fragile to be displayed in their original contexts (such as the
frieze on the pronaos) were incorporated into the temple. White cement
was used for the copies so that they would harmonize with, yet be distinct
from, original materials (Fig. 1 3).
Only a few years later, the restoration of the Memmius
Monument ( 1 963) reflects a very different approach (Fig. 1 4). In this
instance, the intent was not to present a harmonious whole but to convey
the fragmented nature of monuments and their history of abandonment,
collapse, and destruction (Bammer 1 98 1 , 1988 : 1 66ff. ) . While the Temple of
Hadrian invites the visitor to believe that two thousand years have passed
 EPHESUS 139

the monument by without effect, the Memmius Monument tells the story
of those intervening years. A deliberately provocative intervention, the
reconstruction of the Memmius Monument used concrete, the rough­
textured finish of which boldly asserts itself against the smooth marble
of the extant original remains. Since many of the original members were
missing, the placement of extant pieces only alludes to the original
composition of the monument. A similar approach was taken with the
restorations of the Monument of Sextilius Pollio (1 966) and the Fountain
of Domitian ( 1 9 70-7 1 ) .
The approach taken with the Fountain o f Trajan (1962-63) was
an attempt to make a fragmentary monument legible without reconstruct­
ing it (Fig. 1 5 a, b). Since most of the vertical elements were missing, the
restorers placed the horizontal elements on truncated supports. The result
is a presentation of the extant elements of the monument without consid­
eration of its architectural integrity or legibility.
More numerous than these three distinctive projects was the
type of "restoration" work whose impetus was primarily to impose some
Figure 1 5a , b
Fountain of Trajan. This restoration approach degree of order on the chaos that was revealed upon excavation of a
attempts to make a fragmentary monument collapsed city of stone (Fig. 16).
legible without reconstructing it. Since most
It is perhaps no coincidence that during this first period of
of the vertical elements were missing, the
restoration, tourism became a significant factor, with visitation climbing
horizontal elements were placed on truncated
supports. This arrangement defies under­ slowly and steadily, from 276,000 in 1 960 to 5 1 4,000 in 1 969. In response
standing by most visitors, who are neither to this increase, the Ephesus Museum in Sel<;:uk was opened in 1 964 for
versed in the nuances of restoration philoso­ the display of objects, sculpture, and architectural elements from the
phy nor skillful in relating what they see in
excavations. With the 1 967 visit of Pope Paul VI to the House of Mary,
three dimensions (a) to the two-dimensional
reconstruction drawing (b, after H. Pellionis) the status of this place as a pilgrimage site was enhanced, and visitation
found in guidebooks and on interpretive signs. increased further.

a
1 40 Demas

Figure 1 6
Excavations in the upper city, 1 950s. A major
impetus for much of the "restoration" activity
at a site such as Ephesus derives from the
need to impose some degree of order on the
chaos that is revealed upon the excavation of
a collapsed city of stone.

Period 5: 1 97 1 -present

In this period, research interest began to move away from civic life and
public buildings to an exploration of everyday life and private houses, on
the one hand, and to an investigation of the site's early history, on the
other. More restoration projects, some of very large scale, took place
during this period. These included the Library of Celsus ( 1 970-78); the
Terrace of Domitian ( 1 976-77); the Gate of Mazaus and Mithridates
(1 978-89); the East Stoa of the Marble Street (1 983-84; 1 988); the public
latrines (in the Baths of Scholastikia) (1 989); and the Gate of Hadrian
( 1 989-). Other restorations, begun in earlier years, continued: the the­
ater (1 988, 1 992); the Church of Mary ( 1 985); and Saint John's Basilica
( 1 974-93). Another proj ect begun during this period was the construction
of a shelter over the Terrace Houses ( 1 979-85).
The Library of Celsus is the best known of the many restorations
at Ephesus; along with the statue of Artemis, it has become one of the
principal symbols of the site (Fig. 1 7). Even though it was originally exca­
vated in 1903, the decision to restore the library was not taken until 1 970.
The restorers used The Venice Charter as their philosophical guide and
referred to their intervention as an anastylosis (see Schmidt, herein, for a
discussion of the Library of Celsus). 6 From the outset the intention was to
restore only the highly ornamented facade, leaving the interior walls as
excavated. The restoration was predicated on the assumption that today's
visitors do not want to see romantic ruins-as exemplified, for instance, in
the Temple of Serapis-but prefer to see the monument as it looked in
ancient times. The restoration was further rationalized on the basis of its
research value for scholars. In 1 978 the project was extended to include the
adjacent Gate of Mazaus and Mithridates, with the intention of creating
an architectural ensemble around the central court of the Celsus Library.
The other maj or intervention project during this period was the
construction of a permanent shelter to protect the Terrace Houses
 EPHESUS 141

Figure 1 7
Library of Celsus, 1993. The restoration of
the monument in the 1 970s was undertaken
on the assumption that today's visitors would
prefer to see it as it looked in ancient times
rather than as a romantic ruin. Since the com­
pletion of the restoration, the library has
become one of the principal symbols of
Ephesus and the primary attraction for visitors.

Figure 1 8
Terrace Houses at Ephesus, with temporary
sheltering. Shortly after excavation, the
houses were covered with temporary roofing
designed to protect the remains from the
weather without obscuring the complex.

(Wiplinger 1 990; Schmidt 1 988). These terraced, urban apartments contain

wall paintings and mosaic floors left in situ, which, together with the
many objects recovered, provide a vivid picture of the everyday life of
wealthy Ephesians. The houses were excavated over a twenty-five-year
period ( 1 960-85) and protected with temporary roofing until the construc­
tion of a permanent shelter began in 1979 (Fig. 1 8) .
142 Demas

Figure 1 9
Terrace Houses after final sheltering. In 1979
the construction of a permanent shelter,
intended to cover all of the excavated houses,
was started. Because of controversies that
arose about its scale and visual intrusiveness,
the new shelter was completed over only rwo
of the upper terrace apartments. The perma­
nent shelter over the two terrace houses,
flanked by a pair of modern, high-powered
cranes, rypifies the trend toward massive and
costly interventions at archaeological sites
that are primarily aimed at interpreting
monuments to visitors.

The shelter attempts to reconstruct the space of the original

rooms through use of intersecting gabled roofs that make reference to the
ground plan. Reinforced concrete pillars support concrete girders and a
ring beam, which defines the perimeter of the complex and supports a
wooden roofing truss with red tiles (Fig. 1 9) . New wall construction was
carried out in brick (Schmidt 1 988:90ff.). Even though it was originally
intended to cover all of the excavated houses, the shelter was completed
over only two of the upper terrace apartments because of controversies
about its scale and visual intrusiveness. The houses have only periodically
been opened to the public-primarily because the mechanism and
resources to keep them open have been lacking.
These two proj ects exemplify a new phenomenon at Ephesus
and in the world of archaeology-the trend toward massive and costly
interventions in direct response to the demand for interpretation of
monuments to the visiting public. The costs of these proj ects often far
outstrip the resources available for the traditional archaeological pursuits
of excavation, study, and publication, as well as for the less visible work
of maintenance.
During this period there was also renewed interest in the restora­
tion of religious monuments. Inspired by a vision of the Virgin Mary, the
philanthropist George Quatman sponsored further restoration work with
the Ephesus Museum in Sel<;:uk at the Church of Mary, the House of Mary,
Saint John's Basilica, and the Church of Saint John Prodromos in the
nearby village of �irince. Another papal visit to the House of Mary, by
John Paul II in 1979, further reinforced its importance as a pilgrimage site.
Visitor levels at Ephesus continued to climb slowly throughout
the 1 970s (from 5 1 4,000 to 5 78,000) and accelerated rapidly in the 1 980s to
attain a high of 1 ,692,000 in 1 988. Then visitor numbers gradually fell off,
to 1 , 3 72,000 in 1 994. The vulnerability of tourism to political events is dra­
matically illustrated in the visitor statistics from Ephesus. Sharp drops in
visitation occurred in 1 9 74-75, at the time of the Cyprus crisis, and again
in 1991 during the Gulf War; visitation has not yet rebounded to previous
levels, possibly because of national political disturbances in the area in
1 992-93 (Fig. 9).
 EPHESUS 1 43

The increase in tourism and the concomitant restoration of indi­

vidual monuments were the impetus for the extensive use of the monu­
ments-particularly the theater, stadium, and Celsus Library-for musical
concerts, local festivals, and other events.
Responding to the high number of visitors, authorities under­
took management initiatives-first in 1 970, in conjunction with the u. s.

National Park Service, which resulted in the Ephesus Master Plan (U.S.
National Park Planning Project 1 970), and again in 1 979, under a coopera­
tive program initiated by the Ministry of Culture. Implementation of these
plans-which call for the creation of infrastructure for tourism (new park­
ing areas, shuttle systems, and access routes), a new administrative struc­
ture, and a proposed reopening of the late-Roman-period harbor channel
to allow access from the sea-has been impeded by lack of resources and
the plans' unrealistic goals. Paradoxically, the one proj ect that has been
implemented was not envisaged in the plans and was not even acceptable
to the authorities responsible for the site-but it was favored by other
local interests. This was the construction of an airstrip within a buffer
zone near the ancient ruins and adjacent to the harbor channel.

The issues that emerge most forcefully from a review of the modern
Issues Raised by the Site
history of Ephesus are those that result from the variety of approaches
that have been employed in restoration and interpretation of monuments,
from the use of ancient monuments in a modern context, and from the
challenges posed by mass tourism.

Approaches to the restoration of monuments

One of the distinctions of Ephesus is that it displays a variety of

approaches to the problem of making a ruined monument "whole" or
"legible"-that is, to the restoration and interpretation of monuments.
Ephesus is a veritable laboratory of restoration philosophies and practices,
and its monuments illustrate radically different conceptual approaches.
The Temple of Hadrian and the Library of Celsus attempt to restore
wholeness and integrity to the monument along the lines advocated in The
Venice Charter (Figs. 1 3 , 1 7) . It is a harmonious approach, in bold contrast
to the deliberately disharmonious statement made by the Memmius
Monument (Fig. 1 4), the Fountain of Domitian, and the Monument of
Sextilius Pollio. Nature has achieved her own version of the scarred and
maimed monument in the untouched ruins of the Temple of Serapis
(Fig. 20). The Fountain of Trajan sacrifices comprehension to authenticity
in the attempt to re-erect a monument lacking vital elements without
reconstructing those elements (Fig. 1 5a, b).
This eclectic approach to the restoration and interpretation of
monuments at Ephesus is organic and unplanned-the result of individual
decisions made without reference to any overriding plan, guidelines, or
framework for the site. Together with the various rationales behind a par­
ticular intervention (whether it be to further research, to attract visitors,
to make a philosophical or political statement, or to respond to a religious
1 44 Demas

Figure 2 0
Temple o f Serapis. Unreconstructed, the
Temple of Serapis is nature's own example of
a scarred and maimed monument that dis­
plays its history of abandonment and collapse.
The remains of the temple exemplify the
"romantic" ruin, whose value is principally
aesthetic rather than didactic.

vision), these restorations have become part of the modern history of

Ephesus-so much so, in fact, that many restored monuments are more
interesting as modern interpretations of ancient monuments than they are
as illustrations of ancient Roman buildings. While this modern history of
the monuments has value in its own right, it raises a number of questions:
How are decisions made and communicated to the public? Do the restora­
tions provide a consistent and meaningful experience for visitors? Should a
modern intervention be retained, even if subsequent research shows it to
be incorrect? and Does the modern history of a site have value equal to
the ancient history?
The Artemisium poses different questions. The Temple of
Artemis, one of the most important monuments at Ephesus, has been the
subject of investigation for over a century. And yet it is largely an "invisible"
monument, whose single re-erected column is often the only sign of its
existence (Figs. 5, 21). The value of the temple lies in its research potential
for scholars and in its symbolic power for visitors as one of antiquity's
Seven Wonders of the World. But how can these values best be interpreted
to the public when so little remains visible?

Figure 2 1
Artemisium during the summer months.
Despite its historical significance and popular
appeal as one of antiquity's fabled Seven
Wonders of the World, the Temple of
Artemis is largely an invisible monument.
During the winter, when it is submerged in
water (Fig. 5), its single re-erected column is
often the only sign of its existence.
 E PH E S US 145

Modern use of ancient monuments

The use of ancient monuments at Ephesus for public events and cere­
monies has had considerable social and religious value for the local popu­
lation and foreign visitors, and it also has potential economic value for
local and national authorities (Figs. 3, 4) . Modern use, however, is often
very different from the original use of the monument and may even
endanger it, contribute to its deterioration, or require the addition of new
materials to ensure its current stability or modern function. There may
also be an inherent conflict between the social and economic values
derived from the use of the monuments and their historical value.
How should we define "appropriate use" of an ancient monu­
ment? What are the criteria and limits that should be applied? Are they
universal? How do we balance conflicting values in making decisions about
the use of a monument? The monuments at Ephesus have recently been
closed to visitors and use because of concerns about stability, safety, and
potential damage. Such concerns, as well as the undercurrent of contro­
versy that has surrounded the monuments' use from the outset, highlight
the necessity of addressing these issues in a comprehensive manner prior
to making decisions about use.
The use of ancient monuments for religious purposes illustrates
the difficulties of reconciling different values. Religious associations with a
monument frequently have their origins in ambiguous traditions. The
associations that adhere to Saint John's Basilica (the tomb of the saint), the
Church of Mary (venue for the Council of Ephesus in 43 1 C.E. ) , and the
House of Mary (the final residence of the Virgin Mary) all have tenuous
links to historical events, but there is little evidence to substantiate these
associations. One might even claim that the more tenuous the connection,
the more tenacious the belief. In these cases, the religiOUS value of the
monuments-as a focus of contemporary religiOUS belief-may conflict
with the historical record and, therefore, with the interpretation and use of
the monument in the present. These factors set the scene for a battle
between historian and religious devotee for the heart and soul of the
monument. And in the face of strongly held religious beliefs, the historical
veracity of the association loses its meaning.
One of the presumptions that prevails among champions of par­
ticular values is that one value must win out over the other. In cases of
conflict, however, reconciliation of values lies not in favoring one over the
other but in finding a balance that can accommodate present differences
and future changes in the values attributed to a monument. The Church of
Mary is an example of such a reconciliation of historical and religious val­
ues (Figs. 6, 7).

Tourism and management

Tourism is undeniably one of the major driving forces behind the develop­
ment of archaeological sites such as Ephesus. To a large extent, excava­
tion, restoration, and use of monuments are all being spurred on by the
perceived needs of tourists. Allowing tourism to set the agenda for much
1 46 Demas

Figure 2 2
Theater a t Ephesus. Restored a s a historic
monument, the theater was never sufficiently
stabilized for modern use, although it served
as the venue for two major festivals (see
Fig. 3). In recent years, the instability of the
structure has created concern about the safety
of visitors and the conservation of the monu­
ment. The theater is now often closed to visi­
tors, pending a decision on how it should be
conserved and used (see color plate 3e).

of what happens on a site without ensuring the mechanisms to cope with

an influx of visitors has ultimately proved to be self-defeating. The shelter
over the Terrace Houses is a case in point. The principal rationale behind
the construction of the shelter was to interpret these well-preserved
houses to the public . A tour of the houses provides one of the most infor­
mative and interesting experiences at Ephesus. And yet the intimate spaces
of these domestic interiors are not amenable to mass tourism-so they
have remained closed to visitors since 1 989.
An imposing restoration proj ect such as the Library of Celsus acts
as a magnet at a site, drawing the visitor inexorably toward its preemi­
nence. The impact of a magnet monument on the use of a site can be
significant. Visitors who are drawn to the Celsus Library find themselves in
a cuI de sac now that access to the adjacent agora is closed; thus the flow
of traffic through the site's most-visited area is severely impeded. The exis­
tence of such imposing monuments as the Library of Celsus and the
Terrace Houses has the further effect of encouraging excessive visitation
to some parts of the site while leaving others neglected.
In many respects Ephesus has become a prisoner of its own suc­
cess and a victim of rising expectations. Mass tourism has diminished the
quality of the visitors' experience, contributed to the deterioration of the
monuments, and severely strained available resources for maintenance of
the site. Unable to staff the site adequately and stabilize monuments, the
authorities have been forced in recent years to periodically close off large
areas and important monuments-such as the theater (Fig. 22)-to visitors
and use . The goose that laid the golden egg for so many years is in danger
of becoming barren.
A site like Ephesus encourages us to take the long view. A survey
of the modern history of Ephesus over the last 1 3 0 years shows the evolu­
tion of clear trends. Starting with the initial investigations in 1 863, archaeo­
logical excavation was the dominant-often the sole-activity for almost
ninety years. Here was the archaeologist's paradise: never-ending discover­
ies and few distractions or obstacles to hinder the pursuit. By the early
1 950s, however, we see the first signs of another constituency-the curious
visitor-about to intrude on paradise (Fig. 23), and in the late 1 950s, a new
activity-restoration-that would transform the landscape of paradise.
 EPHESUS 147

The confluence of these forces led to the extensive use of the ancient mon­
uments for social and cultural events. Thus was born a new trend, as "gen­
teel" visitation was transformed into mass tourism, and academic
restoration gave way to megaprojects designed in part to feed the tourist
machine. In this new world, archaeologists have become only one of many
constituencies vying to define the significance of Ephesus.
It is difficult to gauge the next trend; it seems certain, however,
that Ephesus cannot survive on its present course for another twenty years
without a mechanism to contend with the rapid change and increasing
complexity that characterize this new world. Conservation and manage­
ment strategies afford such a mechanism, and they may well be the
emerging trend of the future. However, they will require vision and deter­
mination to withstand powerful contending pressures-in order to keep
the significance of Ephesus intact and allow it to flourish well into the
next millennium.

Figure 23
The ubiquitous visitor. Is he contemplating
the vicissitudes of Ephesian history, nursing
a headache caused by sunstroke, or striIGng
a pose for posterity? Is he aware that his
action-repeated by thousands of others­
will damage his seat? The lack of understand­
ing about the expectations of visitors to
archaeological sites is a serious impediment
to the development of effective policies.
1 48 Demas

The author wishes to gratefully acknowledge Selahattin Erdemgil, Anton

Acknowledgments Bammer, Ulrike Muss, Stefan Karwiese, Mehmet Erol, and Fr. Joe
Buttigieg for their generosity in sharing their time, knowledge of Ephesus,
and hospitality during the preparation of this paper and visits to the site.
Dr. Ulrike Muss undertook the background research and compilation of
references, information on the monuments, and images, which together
form the backbone of this article.

1. An accessible, brief overview of the history of Ephesus, early Christianiry, the Artemisium,
Notes and recent discoveries can be found in Monde de la Bible ( 1 990:2-48).

2. For a history of the discovery of Ephesus and the Austrian excavations at the site, see Miltner
( 1 958a:307-14, 1958b), Alzinger ( 1 962), Oberleitner and Lessing ( 1 978 : 1 69-93), and Wiplinger
and Wlach ( 1 996). Wohlers·Scharf ( 1 994) presents all the official documents and international
agreements relating to the excavations of Ephesus.

3. Bammer (1984) provides a historical perspective on the search for the Artemisium; see also
Bammer in Monde de la Bible ( 1 990:8-15) for a recent overview.

4. H. V Morton as quoted in Bean ( 1 966: 160).

5. For descriptions and critiques of many of the restoration projects, see Miltner ( 1 958a, 1 958b,
1959:1-10), Bammer ( 1 988 : 1 66ff.), Monde de la Bible ( 1 990:33), and Schmidt ( 1 993).

6. For a technical description, philosophical discussion, and critique of the Library of Celsus pro·
ject, see Hueber ( 1985 :398ff., 1989: 1 1 1-19), Hueber and Strocka ( 1 975), Fehr ( 1 9 8 1 : 1 07-25),
and Bammer ( 1 9 8 1 , 1 98 8 : 1 66ff.).

Alzinger, Wilhelm
References 1962 Die Stadt des siebenten Weltwunders: Die Wiederentdeckung von Ephesos. Vienna:
Wollzeilen-Verlag.

Bammer, Anton
1981 Architektur und Klassizismus. Hephaistos 3 :95-106.

1 984 Das Heiligtum der Artemis von Ephesos. Graz, Austria: Akademische Druck- und
Verlagsanstalt.

1988 Ephesos: Stadt an Flu} und Meer. Graz, Austria: Akademische Druck- und Verlagsanstalt.

Bean, George E.
1 966 Aegean Turkey: An Archaeological Guide. London: Ernest Benn.

Falkener, Edward
1862 Ephesus and the Temple of Diana. London: Day and Son.

Fehr, Burkhard
1 98 1 Archaologen, Techniker, Industrielle: Betrachtungen zur Wiederaufstellung der
Bibliothek des Celsus in Ephesos. Hephaistos 3 : 1 07-25.

Fellows, Charles
1 839 AJournal Written during an Excursion in Asia Minor. London: John Murray.

Hueber, Friedmund
1985 Antike Baudenkmaler als Aufgabengebiet des Architekten. In Lebendige
Altertumswissenschaft. Festgabe for Hermann Vetters. Vienna: Adolf Holzhausens Nfg.
 EPHESUS 1 49

1 989 Die Anastylose-Forschungsaufgabe, Restaurierungs- und BaumaBnahme. Osterreichische

Zeitschriftfor Kunst und Denkmalpjlege 43 : 1 1 1-19.

Hueber, Friedmund, and V. M . Strocka

1 975 Die Bibliothek des Celsus: Eine Prachtfassade und das Problem ihrer
Wiederaufrichtung. Antike Welt 4: 3ff.

Miltner, Franz
1958a Ephesos, die Stadt der Artemis und des Johannes: bsterreichs Ausgrabungsstatte in
Anatolien. Atlantis 30:307-14.

1958b Ephesos, die Stadt der Artemis und des Johannes. Vienna: Franz Deuticke Verlag.

1 959 Denkmalpflege in Ephesos. Osterreichische Zeitschrift fur Kunst und Denkmalpjlege

1 3 : 1-10.

Monde de la Bible
1 990 Ephese, la cite d'Artemis. Le Monde de la Bible. Archeologie et histoire (May/June):2-48.

Oberleitner, Wolfgang, and Erich Lessing

1978 Ephesos. Vienna: Carl Ueberreuter Verlag.

Schmidt, Hartwig
1988 Schutzbauten: Denkmalpjlege an archaologischen Statten. Stuttgart: Konrad Theiss Verlag.

1993 WiederauJbau: Denkmalpjlege an archaologischen Statten. Stuttgart: Konrad Theiss Verlag.

U.S. National Park Planning Project

1970 Master Plan for Protection and Use: Ephesus Historical National Park. N.p.: U.S. National
Park Service.

Wiplinger, Gilbert
1990 Restaurierungsprojekte in Ephesos. In Echo. Festschrift forJ. B. Trentini. Innsbruck:
Universitat Innsbruck.

Wiplinger, Gilbert, and G. Wlach

1996 One Hundred Years of Austrian Research. Vienna: Bi.ihlam-Verlag.

Wohlers-Scharf, Traude
1994 Die Geschichte der Grabung Ephesos. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang Verlag.

Wood, John Turtle

1 877 Discoveries at Ephesus, Including the Sites and Remains of the Great Temple of Diana.
London: Longmans, Green.
 151

A P PE N D I X A

Summary of Charters Dealing with the

Archaeological Heritage

Martha Demas

Recommendations of the Madrid Conference ( 1 904)

These brief recommendations, the result of the Sixth International
Congress of Architects, constitute an early attempt to set down principles
of architectural conservation. The recommendations emphasize the
importance of minimal intervention in dealing with ruined structures, and
of finding a functional use for historic buildings. The document sets forth
the principle of unity of style, which encourages restoration according to
a single stylistic expression.

Recommendations of the Athens Conference ( 1 93 1 )

The conclusions of the Athens Conference, organized by the International
Museums Office, were drafted at the end of the conference on restoration
of historic buildings held in Athens in 1 93 1 . This document introduced
such important conservation concepts and principles as the idea of a com­
mon world heritage; the importance of the settings of monuments; and
the principle of reintegration of new materials. The recommendations
were ahead of their time in calling for the reburial of archaeological
remains when their conservation cannot be guaranteed, but they were
shortsighted in their recommendation of the use of reinforced concrete
for consolidation of ancient monuments.

Carta del restauro italiana ( 1 9 3 1 )

The principles set forth in the Carta del restauro reflect Italian conservation
theory and practice. They were established by the Advisory Council for
Antiquities and Fine Arts in 1 9 3 1 to guide restoration work carried out by
private and public agencies in Italy. This document and Italian restoration
theory in general were major sources of the ideas later expressed in The
Venice Charter.

Recommendation on International Principles

Applicable to Archaeological Excavations ( 1 956)
This document, adopted by the General Conference of Unesco in
1 956, established international principles governing the protection and
152 Demas

excavation o f archaeological sites. With respect t o conservation, the docu­

ment recommends the provision of funds for site maintenance; the careful
supervision of the restoration of archaeological remains; a prohibition
against removal of monuments without consent; and a provision in the
deed of concession to excavate, for the guarding, maintenance, and con­
servation of the site and its associated objects. The recommendation is
not legally binding but has often served as a model for national legislation
governing excavation.

International Charter for the Conservation and Restoration

of Monuments and Sites (The Venice Charter) ( 1 964, 1 965)
The Venice Charter codifies the internationally accepted standards of
conservation practice relating to architecture and sites. The document­
first developed at the Second International Congress of Architects and
Technicians of Historic Monuments, held in Venice in 1 964-was
officially adopted by the International Council of Monuments and Sites
(ICOMOS) in 1 96 5 . It sets forth principles of conservation based on the
concept of authenticity and the importance of maintaining the historical
and physical context of a site or building. The Venice Charter has been
the most influential international conservation document for the past
quarter century.

Convention Concerning the Protection of the World Cultural

and Natural Heritage (World Heritage Convention) ( 1 972)
The World Heritage Convention was adopted in 1 972 by the General
Conference of Unesco. It promotes an international perspective on cul­
tural heritage by inviting member states to nominate heritage places of
outstanding universal value as World Heritage Sites. It is intended to
encourage national efforts at protecting cultural and natural heritage and
to promote international recognition and cooperation in safeguarding the
heritage of the world. Another publication, Operational Guidelines for the
Implementation of the World Heritage Convention, was issued in 1988. These
guidelines outline the criteria that a site must meet to be included on the
World Heritage List.

Charter of Cultural Tourism ( 1 976)

The Charter of Cultural Tourism is the result of the ICOMOS Tourism
Commi�tee seminar on contemporary tourism and humanism, held in
1 9 76. It outlines an approach to cultural tourism that recognizes sites and
monuments as sources of economic benefit and cultural education. The
approach encourages educating tourists (including children, the tourists of
the future) about the value of monuments and training those responsible
for developing and implementing tourist use of heritage sites.
 ApPENDIX A 153

Australia ICOMOS Charter for the Conservation of Places

of Cultural Significance (The Burra Charter) ( 1 979)
The Burra Charter is a national charter that establishes principles for the
management and conservation of cultural sites in Australia. The charter
was adopted by Australia ICOMOS in 1 979. The charter is particularly
important for its definition of cultural significance and for the process set
forth for using cultural significance to manage and conserve cultural sites.
It provides an example of how international principles can be adapted to
the values and needs of a particular nation or of particular cultural groups
within that nation.

Charter for the Protection and Management of the

Archaeological Heritage (ICAHM Charter) ( 1 990)
This document, the work of the ICOMOS International Committee on
Archaeological Heritage Management (ICAHM), is among the most recent
of international charters. It was created in response to the increasing
threats to archaeological sites worldwide, especially from looting and land
development. The charter attempts to establish principles and guidelines
of archaeological heritage management that have global validity and can
be adapted to national policies and conditions.

Charter for Sustainable Tourism ( 1 995)

This charter emerged from the World Conference on Sustainable Tourism
held in 1995. It holds that tourism development must be sustainable-that
is, "ecologically bearable in the long term, as well as economically viable ,
and ethically and socially equitable for local communities." Achievement
of this goal will require respect for the fragility of the cultural and natural
heritage, recognition of local interests, contribution to the local economy,
acceptance of participation from all sectors and levels, and creation of
appropriate planning and management mechanisms. The charter also calls
for the diversification of opportunities and forms of tourism, a reduction
in tourism's environmental impact, and the adoption of codes of conduct
by the tourist industry.
 1 55

APPEND I X B

Conference Participants

The entries below reflect affiliations of participants at Aicha Ben Abed

the time of the conference. Chercheur
Institut National du Patrimoine
Selma Al-Radi Tunis
Institute of Fine Arts Tunisia
New York University
Pierre Bikai
New York, New York
Director
U. S.A.
American Center of Oriental Research
Suad Amiry Amman
Director Jordan
RIWAQ Centre for Architectural Conservation
Ghazi Bisheh
Ramallah
Director General
Palestine
Department of Antiquities
Camille Asmar Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities
Directeur General Amman
Direction Generale des Antiquites Jordan
Beirut
Anna Maria Bombaci
Lebanon
Dirigente Tecnico Archeologo
Sid Ahmed Baghli Responsabile Sezione Archeologica
Chef de Cabinet Soprintendenza per i Beni Culturali e Ambientali di
Ministere de la Culture Enna
Algiers Enna, Sicily
Algeria Italy

Anton Bammer Anthony Bonanno

Oberrat Professor and Head
Osterreichisches Archaologisches Institut Department of Archaeology
Vienna University of Malta
Austria Msida
Malta
Panagiotis Barmpalias
Head, Programming and Design Office Mounir Bouchenaki
National Tourism Organization of Greece Director, Division of Cultural Heritage
Athens Unesco
Greece
 156

Mohammed Boukli-Hacene Christos Doumas

Directeur Adj oint, Sites et Monuments Historiques Professor of Archaeology
Ministere de la Culture Department of Philosophy
Algiers University of Athens
Algeria Athens
Greece
Brigitte Bourgeois
Conservateur du Patrimoine Amir Drori
Service de Restauration des Musees de France Director of Antiquities
Versailles Israel Antiquities Authority
France Jerusalem
Israel
Neritan Ceka
Director Cevat Erder
Qendra e Kerkimere Arkeologjike Professor
Tirana Faculty of Architecture
Albania Middle East Technical University
Ankara
Demos Christou
Turkey
Director
Department of Antiquities Roman Fernandez-Baca Casares
Nicosia Director
Cyprus Instituto Andaluz del Patrimonio Hist6rico
Consejeria de Cultura
Miguel Angel Corzo
Junta de Andalucia
Director
Seville
The Getty Conservation Institute
Spain
Los Angeles, California
U. S.A. Abderrazak Gragueb Chatti
President Directeur General
William D. E. Coulson
Agence Nationale d'Exploitation et de Mise en Valeur
Director
du Patrimoine Archeologique et Historique
American School of Classical Studies
Tunis
Athens
Tunisia
Greece
Sophocles Hadjisavvas
Abdelaziz Daoulatli
Curator of Ancient Monuments
Directeur General
Department of Antiquities
Institut National du Patrimoine
Nicosia
Tunis
Cyprus
Tunisia
Suzy-Marie Hakimian
Matilde De Angelis d'Ossat
Chef de la Section des Musees
Archaeologist
Direction Generale des Antiquites
Soprintendenza Archeologica di Roma
Beirut
Rome
Lebanon
Italy
Donald R. A. Hankey
Martha Demas
Architect
Acting Director, Special Projects
Gilmore Hankey Kirke Ltd.
The Getty Conservation Institute
London
Los Angeles, California
United Kingdom
U.S.A.
 ApPENDIX B 157

David Harnik Vassilis Lambrinoudakis

General Director Professor of Archaeology
Israel Government Tourist Corporation Faculty of Philosophy
Jerusalem University of Athens
Israel Athens
Greece
Uta Hassler
Archaeologist Colin MacDonald
Karlsruhe Knossos Fellow
Germany British School of Archaeology at Athens
Knossos, Crete
Zahi Hawass
Greece
Director General of Giza Pyramids and Saqqara
Supreme Council of Antiquities Margaret Mac Lean
Cairo Director, Documentation Program
Egypt The Getty Conservation Institute
Los Angeles, California
Vassos Karageorghis
U.S.A.
Director
Archaeological Research Unit Kamel O. Mahadin
University of Cyprus Chairman
Nicosia Department of Architecture
Cyprus University of Jordan
Amman
Abid Keramane
Jordan
president Directeur General
Operateur National Algerien du Tourisme Alessandra Melucco-Vaccaro
Algiers Soprintendente Archeologo
Algeria Ministero per i Beni Culturali e Ambientali
Rome
Hermann Kienast
Italy
Assistant Director
Deutsches Archaologisches Institut Phryne Michael
Athens Director-General
Greece Cyprus Tourism Organisation
Nicosia
Amos Kloner
Cyprus
Director of Bet Guvrin Project
Bar-Han University Demetrios Michaelides
Jerusalem Associate Professor
Israel Archaeological Research Unit
University of Cyprus
Manolis Korres
Nicosia
Director
Cyprus
Parthenon Restoration Project
Ministry of Culture Anthony Pace
Athens Curator
Greece National Museum of Archaeology
Valletta
Marc Laenen
Malta
Director-General
ICCROM
158

Clairy Palyvou Renee Sivan

Architect-Archaeologist Cultural Tourism Consultant
Athens Jerusalem
Greece Israel

Guri Pani Giora Solar

Architect Director, Conservation Division
Institute of Cultural Monuments Israel Antiquities Authority
Tirana Jerusalem; and
Albania Director Designate, Special Projects
The Getty Conservation Institute
John Papadopoulos
Los Angeles, California
Associate Curator of Antiquities
US.A.
The J. Paul Getty Museum
Malibu, California Edmond Spaho
US.A. Vice Minister for Tourism
Ministry of Construction and Tourism
Jerry Podany
Tirana
Conservator of Antiquities
Albania
The J. Paul Getty Museum
Malibu, California Nicholas Stanley-Price
US.A. Deputy Director, Training Program
The Getty Conservation Institute
Georgios Rethemiotakis
Los Angeles, California
Assistant Director
US.A.
Heraklion Museum
Heraklion, Crete Sharon Sullivan
Greece Executive Director
Australian Heritage Commission
Hartwig Schmidt
Canberra
Professor
Australia
Technische Hochschule Aachen
Aachen Daniel Therond
Germany Principal Administrative Officer
Council of Europe
Francesco Scoppola
Strasbourg
Architect
France
Soprintendenza Archeologica di Roma
Rome Marta de la Torre
Italy Director, Training Program
The Getty Conservation Institute
Fayez Shoukry
Los Angeles, California
Undersecretary for Planning
US.A.
Egyptian Tourist Authority
Cairo Marion True
Egypt Curator of Antiquities
The J. Paul Getty Museum
Valter Shtylla
Malibu, California
Director
US.A.
Institute of Cultural Monuments
Tirana
Albania
 ApPENDIX B 159

Timocin Tulgar John Walsh

Archaeological Consultant Director
Ministry of Tourism The J. Paul Getty Museum
Ankara Malibu, California
Turkey U. S.A.
 161

Authors

Marta de la Torre has been the director of the Training Ptogram at the Getty Conservation

Institute since 1985. From 1 9 8 1 to 1985 she was coordinator of Special Projects of the
International Council of Museums in Paris. She studied art history at George Washington
University and management at the American University.

Margaret Mac Lean has been director o f the Documentation Program a t the Getty Conservation

Institute since 1993. Prior to this appointment, she was senior coordinator of the Training
Program of the GCI, and earlier, she was executive director of the Center for Field Research at
Earthwatch. She studied anthropology, archaeology, and architecture at the University of
California, Berkeley.

Sharon Sullivan is the executive director of the Australian Heritage Commission. She was previ­

ously with the New South Wales National Parks and Wildlife Service. Having studied history and
prehistory, she has taught cultural heritage management in the United States, Australia, and
China, and has developed natural heritage conservation policies in Australia.

Christos Doumas has been professor of archaeology at the University of Athens since 1980 and

was with the Department of Antiquities for twenty-five years. He studied history and archaeology
in Athens and London. He is a member of Academia Europaea, Society of Antiquaries (London),
the German Archaeological Institute, ICOMOS, and the Archaeological Society at Athens. He is
currently director of the excavations at Akrotiri.

Hartwig Schmidt has been professor of conservation of historic buildings at the Faculty of

Architecture of the Technical University in Aachen, Germany, since 1993 . From 1979 to 1983 he
carried out a research assignment at the German Institute of Archaeology in Berlin, studying the
conservation of archaeological sites. In 1 984 and 1985, he was head of the research group at the
Institute of Conservation in Berlin. From 1 985 to 1993 , he was head of the Research and
Documentation Center at the University of Karlsruhe, working on the special research program
Conservation of Historically Important Buildings. He is a member of ICOMOS and of several
professional groups in conservation.

Renee Sivan is a heritage presentation specialist, museum planner, and developer of historical

sites. She is in charge of presentation and interpretation of major archaeological sites developed
by the Israel National Parks Authority and the Israel Government Tourist Corporation. In addi­
tion, she lectures on heritage presentation at Haifa University, Haifa, as well as at academic insti­
tutions in Europe. For fifteen years, she served as chief curator of the Tower of David Museum of
the History of Jerusalem. She obtained her master's degree in archaeology at the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem, where she taught archaeology for seventeen years.

Nicholas Stanley-Price is now an independent consultant in cultural heritage preservation. He

studied ancient history and prehistory at Oxford University, completing a doctoral dissertation on
1 62

the early settlement of Cyprus. After ten years of archaeological fieldwork and administration in
the Middle East, he was on the staff of the International Centre for the Study of the Restoration
and Preservation of Cultural Properry (ICCROM) in Rome, from 1 982 to 1986. He was depury
director of the Training Program at the Getry Conservation Institute from 1 987 to 1 995.

John K. Papadopoulos is associate curator of antiquities at the J. Paul Getry Museum. Before his

appointment in 1 994, he was depury director of the Australian Archaeological Institute at Athens
and assistant professor of archaeology at the Universiry of Sydney. He is also depury director of
the excavations at Torone in northern Greece.

Martha Demas joined the Getry Conservation Institute in 1990 as a fellow in the Training

Program. In 1992 she joined Special Projects, where she is currently serving as project manager.
She studied Aegean archaeology at the University of Cincinnati and historic preservation at
Cornell Universiry.
 163

Illustration Credits

Grateful acknowledgment is extended to the following institutions and individuals for permission
to reproduce the illustrations in this volume.

Color Plates

Plates l a, Ib, Za-Zd, 3b, 3d, 3e: G. Aldana / GCI. Plate I e: Erich Lessing/ Art Resoutce, N.Y.
Plate I d: Scala/ Art Resource, N.Y. Plates 3a, 3c: Photographs by M. Demas.

Part One

Doumas, "Management Considerations at a Mediterranean Site: Akrotiri, Thera"

Figures 1-17: Courtesy of the Archaeological Society in Athens, Excavations at Thera.

Schmidt, "Reconstruction of Ancient Buildings"

Figure I : Courtesy of the Getty Research Institute for the History of Art and the Humanities,
Resource Collections, Los Angeles, Calif. Figures Za, zb, 3, 5 , 9-IZ, 14: Photographs by
H. Schmidt. Figure 4: Courtesy of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens, Agora
Excavation. Figures 6, 7: Courtesy of Deutsches Archaologisches Institut, Athens. Figure 8:
Courtesy of bsterreichisches Archaologisches Institut, Vienna. Figure 1 3 : Courtesy of Lejre
Research Center, Lejre, Denmark. Figure 1 5 : Courtesy of York Archaeological Trust for
Excavation and Research Limited, York, England. Figure 1 6 : Courtesy of Plimoth Plantation,
Plymouth, Mass.; photographer: Gary Andrashko.

Sivan, "The Presentation of Archaeological Sites"

Figures I-Z, 9-I Z : Photos courtesy of R. Sivan. Figures 3-8: Photos by Gabi Laron; used with
permission.
Figure I : Beth Shearim, Israel; a project of the Israel National Parks Authority, 1 996;
interpretation and conceptual design: Renee Sivan; design: Dorit Harel, Harel Designers; models:
Adam Braun, Tip Top Studio. Figure Z: Beth Shean, Israel; a project of the Beth Shean Tourist
Development Authority, the Israel Government Tourist Corporation, the Israel Antiquities
Authority, and the National Parks Authority, 1 996; interpretation and conceptual design: Renee
Sivan; design: Dorit Harel, Harel Designers; model maker: Pessah Ruder. Figures 3-8: Avdat,
Israel; a project of the Israel National Parks Authority, 1993; interpretation and conceptual design:
Renee Sivan; set and graphic design: Dorit Harel, Harel Designers; artists: David Gershtein, Yael
Calderon; model maker: Pessah Ruder. Figure 9: Tel Dan, Israel; a project of the Israel
Government Tourist Corporation and the Israel Antiquities Authority, 1994; interpretation and
conceptual design: Renee Sivan; set and graphic design: Ronit Lambrozo. Figure 10: Tel Dan,
Israel; a project of the Israel Government Tourist Corporation and the Israel Antiquities
Authority; conceptual design and conservation architecture by Giora Solar. Figure I I : Tel Dan,
Israel; a project of the Israel Government Tourist Corporation and the Israel Antiquities
Authority; interpretation and conceptual design: Renee Sivan; designer: Ronit Lambrozo.
Figure I Z : Jerusalem, Old City; a project of the Jewish Quarter Reconstruction and Development
Company, 1983; interpretation and presentation consultant: Renee Sivan; design: Dorit Harel,
Harel Designers; architect: Yoel Bar-Dor.
1 64

Part Two

Stanley-Price, "The Roman Villa at Piazza Armerina, Sicily"

Figure 1 : After Carandini, Ricci, and De Vos 1982:fig. 2; courtesy of S. F. Flaccovio Editore,
Palermo. Figure 2: Scala/ Art Resource, N.Y. Figure 3: Erich Lessing/ Art Resource, N.Y. Figures
5, 6: Courtesy of Fototeca Unione, American Academy in Rome. Figure 7: Courtesy of Foto
Aeree, Turin, Italy. Figure 8: Duncan Edwards / National Geographic Image Collection. Figures 9,
ll, 1 2 : G. Aldana/ GCI. Figure 10: N. Stanley-Price / GCI. Figure 1 3 : Courtesy of Unesco, © 1 9 6 1 .
Figures 14-1 6: Photographs b y N. Stanley-Price.

Papadopoulos, "Knossos"

Figure 1 : After Myers, Myers, and Cadogan 1992:2-3; courtesy of j. W. Myers. Figure 2: After
Hood and Smyth 1 9 8 1 , courtesy of the British School at Athens. Figure 3: After A. j. Evans,
courtesy of the British School at Athens. Figures 4-26: Courtesy of the Ashmolean Museum,
University of Oxford. Figures 27-29: Photographs by j. Papadopoulos.

Demas, "Ephesus"

Figures 2, 6, 20-22: Photographs by M. Demas. Figures 3, 7, 8: Photo Tuncer, Sel�uk. Figure 4:

Courtesy of Ephesus Museum, Sel�uk. Figures 5, 12, 15b, 1 6, 1 8 : Courtesy of Osterreichisches
Archaologisches lnstitut, Vienna. Figures 10, II: After Wood 1877. Figures !3-1 5a, 1 7, 19, 23:
G. Aldana / GCI.