17-05-2025
Art from the ashes
This painted scene from Akrotiri reveals life in a Minoan trading port 3500 years ago. Photo: supplied
A few years ago while cruising the Aegean, we sailed into the massive crater, now an arm of the sea, that formed when Santorini erupted. It was a disaster that had a serious impact on Europe's earliest civilisation, which was centred at Knossos on the southern coast of Crete.
Santorini prospered as a trading port, dealing, among other commodities, in the then vital supplies of copper from Cyprus and exporting obsidian, a volcanic glass with a cutting edge like a razor.
But about 3500 years ago, there were ominous rumblings and tremors that warned of impending disaster. The eruption must have been accompanied by an almighty bang, for the crater is 10km wide and the remnants of the island were covered in thick volcanic ash.
As we saw last week at Herculaneum, such eruptions are a godsend for archaeologists, but unlike Vesuvius, Santorini gave sufficient warning for the residents to get out. The town they abandoned has been revealed through excavations, and no skeletons have been found.
Visitors today to this town, known as Aktrotiri, can walk down the narrow streets past stone-built houses that still stand two stories high. They can view the basement cellars where great ceramic jars that would once have been filled to the brim with olive oil and wine still stand. Impressive traders' houses remain virtually intact, and one of the outstanding features of the wealthy and sophisticated inhabitants was their love of art. They decorated their walls with magnificent painted scenes of their vibrant island home.
One of my earliest digs in the Aegean was at the Palace of Minos, at Knossos, where Sir Arthur Evans had revealed Minoan art at its best, featuring scenes of dancing dolphins and acrobats vaulting over wild bulls. But I find the Akrotiri frescoes even more impressive for their depictions of daily life.
One of these shows ocean-going trading vessels sailing past a pod of dolphins. Another brings to life the mute stones. We can admire the houses and their occupants at the windows and on their patios looking out over the harbour. Four men are there, heaving on the oars as the tillerman chooses his course. On the hills above, a leopard is ready to grapple with two fleeing deer. Flowers bloom in the wheatfields.
