
Archaeological ‘jigsaw' reveals 2,000-year-old Roman wall paintings
An excavation in London has revealed one of the largest collections of painted Roman wall plaster to be discovered in the capital.
Archaeologists have spent four years working on thousands of fragments of shattered plaster discovered at a site in Southwark, near London Bridge station and Borough Market, in 2021 to painstakingly piece together the artwork of a high-status Roman building.
It is believed the frescoes once decorated at least 20 internal walls between AD 40 and 150, before the building was demolished and the wall plaster dumped into a pit before the start of the third century.
But now the reconstruction of the wall art has shed further light on high society in Roman Britain.
The paintings – which display bright yellow panel designs with black intervals, decorated with beautiful images of birds, fruit, flowers, and lyres – demonstrate both the wealth and taste of the building's owners, according to the excavation team at the Museum of London Archaeology (Mola).
Yellow panel designs were scarce in the Roman period, and repeating yellow panels found at the site in Southwark were even scarcer, making the discovery extremely rare.
Among the fragments is rare evidence of a painter's signature – the first known example of this practice in Britain.
Framed by a 'tabula ansata', a carving of a decorative tablet used to sign artwork in the Roman world, it contains the Latin word 'fecit' which translates to 'has made this'.
But the fragment is broken where the painter's name would have appeared, meaning their identity will likely never be known.
Unusual graffiti of the ancient Greek alphabet has also been reconstructed – the only example of this inscription found to date in Roman Britain.
The precision of the scored letters suggests that it was done by a proficient writer and not someone undertaking writing practice.
Some fragments imitate high-status wall tiles, such as red Egyptian porphyry – a crystal-speckled volcanic stone – framing the elaborate veins of African giallo antico – a yellow marble.
Inspiration for the wall decorations was taken from other parts of the Roman world – such as Xanten and Cologne in Germany, and Lyon in France.
It took three months for Mola senior building material specialist Han Li to lay out all the fragments and reconstruct the designs to their original place.
He said: 'This has been a 'once-in-a-lifetime' moment, so I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness when I started to lay the plaster out.
'Many of the fragments were very delicate and pieces from different walls had been jumbled together when the building was demolished, so it was like assembling the world's most difficult jigsaw puzzle.
'I was lucky to have been helped by my colleagues in other specialist teams for helping me arrange this titanic puzzle as well as interpret ornaments and inscriptions – including Ian Betts and the British School at Rome – who gave me their invaluable opinions and resources.
'The result was seeing wall paintings that even individuals of the late Roman period in London would not have seen.'
Speaking to the Today programme on BBC Radio 4, Mr Li said: 'When you are looking at thousands of fragments of wall paintings every day, you start to commit everything to memory.
'You are sometimes working when you are sleeping as well.
'There was one time that I thought that this fragment goes here, and I woke up and it actually happened – so you could say I was working a double shift.
'But it's a beautiful end result.'
One fragment features the face of a crying woman with a Flavian period (AD 69-96) hairstyle, hinting at the time period it may have been created.
Work to further explore each piece of plaster continues.
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Léon Krier obituary: architect who designed Poundbury
Léon Krier once described himself as 'an architect, because I don't build'. As a minority voice in his profession who deplored the modernism that had dominated postwar architecture, Krier said he had made himself redundant. He assumed that he would remain a 'utopianist' for the rest of his life. Then he met Prince Charles (now the King). By the mid-Eighties the Prince of Wales was the British architecture profession's public enemy No 1 after a speech in 1984 in which he described a proposed extension of the National Gallery as a 'monstrous carbuncle on the face of a much-loved and elegant friend'. Charles and the London-based architectural theorist and academic Krier were destined to meet. They did so at an exhibition in 1986 to present Krier's masterplan to restore a Georgian quarter of London's Spitalfields that was under threat from modern development. Krier's elegant drawings acted like catnip on the royal visitor. 'He [Charles] said, 'Let's talk',' recalled the Luxembourg-born Krier, who wore slightly dandified Edwardian-style outfits topped off by his trademark silk scarves and had the air of a central European intellectual. 'And then he [Charles] said 'Would you like to be my consultant on architecture and particularly on urbanism?' and I said, 'Wow, my God. How could I refuse.' And then we'd meet at strange times and places. Like 3am with some Russian princess in Chelsea.' He remembered feeling touched by the 'desperate, even tragic ring' to Charles's voice when lamenting architecture. Charles had continued to blame architects for ruining postwar Britain, but in 1988 seized his chance to develop his own urban Arcadia on 400 acres of land, near the Dorset town of Dorchester, owned by his Duchy of Cornwall. The development would be planned in rigorous accordance with Krier's 'New Urbanist' principles of human scale. No building could be more than five storeys and would be configured in traditional street patterns. Houses and businesses would exist cheek by jowl. 'Timeless' materials of stone, brick and wood would be used. No one could be more than 15 minutes away from all the amenities they might need and even their place of work. Car use would be minimal. To reduce the urban sprawl he so deplored, he proposed reintroducing terraced housing that had become anathema to the modernists. It was a social experiment to disprove so much of the postwar urban redevelopment that replaced traditional street patterns and market squares with dual carriageways through town and city centres surrounded by residential tower blocks and the zoning of residential and commercial uses that created car-dependent suburban sprawl. 'Modernism is a totalitarian ideology which, like all dogmatism, is based on unprovable assumptions,' Krier said. About a year after starting on the project, Krier presented his masterplan for Poundbury, replete with Italianate piazzas linked by tree-lined streets. The plan was strong on details, from elaborate lampposts to wrought-iron fencing. Alarmed staff at the Duchy of Cornwall warned Charles that Krier's plans would be far too expensive. Krier countered that the rise in values would justify the cost in the long run. According to Clive Aslet's recent book King Charles III: 40 years of Architecture, the duchy appointed the surveyors Drivers Jonas to 'rein Krier in'. Krier had walked away from many other projects for less. 'He was gentle but uncompromising in everything he did, preferring to withdraw than be drawn into political skirmishes, inhuman bureaucracy or pollute his designs,' said his wife Irene. Matters came to a head at the prince's home, Highgrove, in Gloucestershire, when Krier, Christopher Jonas and Charles looked at the plans laid out on the large dining table. 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Planning permission for phase one was achieved in 1991. Britain was in the midst of a property crash, which many smugly predicted would scupper Poundbury — especially as Krier had ignored the advice of property experts and sited affordable housing alongside the more expensive private properties. As the buildings started to rise up in 1993, the profession went to war on Poundbury. It was sneeringly described as a 'Toy Town' pastiche of neoclassicism with its portentous porticos and public squares. A critic in this newspaper once said: 'If Hallmark were to film a Christmas movie in Britain, Poundbury would be an ideal setting.' Yet over the years the community has continued to thrive. There are now some 4,500 people living there, with 185 businesses sustaining 2,300 jobs. Poundbury has been visited by architects, planners and developers from all over the world. 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Archaeological ‘jigsaw' reveals 2,000-year-old Roman wall paintings
Archaeologists have spent four years working on thousands of fragments of shattered plaster discovered at a site in Southwark, near London Bridge station and Borough Market, in 2021 to painstakingly piece together the artwork of a high-status Roman building. It is believed the frescoes once decorated at least 20 internal walls between AD 40 and 150, before the building was demolished and the wall plaster dumped into a pit before the start of the third century. But now the reconstruction of the wall art has shed further light on high society in Roman Britain. The paintings – which display bright yellow panel designs with black intervals, decorated with beautiful images of birds, fruit, flowers, and lyres – demonstrate both the wealth and taste of the building's owners, according to the excavation team at the Museum of London Archaeology (Mola). Yellow panel designs were scarce in the Roman period, and repeating yellow panels found at the site in Southwark were even scarcer, making the discovery extremely rare. Among the fragments is rare evidence of a painter's signature – the first known example of this practice in Britain. Framed by a 'tabula ansata', a carving of a decorative tablet used to sign artwork in the Roman world, it contains the Latin word 'fecit' which translates to 'has made this'. But the fragment is broken where the painter's name would have appeared, meaning their identity will likely never be known. Unusual graffiti of the ancient Greek alphabet has also been reconstructed – the only example of this inscription found to date in Roman Britain. The precision of the scored letters suggests that it was done by a proficient writer and not someone undertaking writing practice. Some fragments imitate high-status wall tiles, such as red Egyptian porphyry – a crystal-speckled volcanic stone – framing the elaborate veins of African giallo antico – a yellow marble. Inspiration for the wall decorations was taken from other parts of the Roman world – such as Xanten and Cologne in Germany, and Lyon in France. It took three months for Mola senior building material specialist Han Li to lay out all the fragments and reconstruct the designs to their original place. He said: 'This has been a 'once-in-a-lifetime' moment, so I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness when I started to lay the plaster out. 'Many of the fragments were very delicate and pieces from different walls had been jumbled together when the building was demolished, so it was like assembling the world's most difficult jigsaw puzzle. 'I was lucky to have been helped by my colleagues in other specialist teams for helping me arrange this titanic puzzle as well as interpret ornaments and inscriptions – including Ian Betts and the British School at Rome – who gave me their invaluable opinions and resources. 'The result was seeing wall paintings that even individuals of the late Roman period in London would not have seen.' Speaking to the Today programme on BBC Radio 4, Mr Li said: 'When you are looking at thousands of fragments of wall paintings every day, you start to commit everything to memory. 'You are sometimes working when you are sleeping as well. 'There was one time that I thought that this fragment goes here, and I woke up and it actually happened – so you could say I was working a double shift. 'But it's a beautiful end result.' One fragment features the face of a crying woman with a Flavian period (AD 69-96) hairstyle, hinting at the time period it may have been created. Work to further explore each piece of plaster continues.