Mansions, Monuments and Museums of the Plaza de Jerónimo Páez in Córdoba

While exploring the historic quarter of Córdoba, Spain, admire the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo and Casa del Judío before you stop in the archaeological museum.

It’s easy to understand why Córdoba’s entire historic quarter earned its UNESCO World Heritage Site designation in 1985. As Wally and I explored the narrow cobblestone streets of la Judería, the city’s former Jewish quarter, our wanderings led us to charming plazas that opened up to reveal historic homes and restaurants with inviting outdoor seating, where you can sit and relax with the locals. 

Among these squares is Plaza de Jerónimo Páez, named after a descendant of the influential Cordobesan family responsible for the Renaissance-style Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo and the equally historic Casa del Judío. Having endured years of neglect, the plaza was renovated in the 1990s, when the archaeological museum was expanded.

During the city’s era of Roman occupation, known as Corduba at that time, this square served as the entertainment district, boasting one of the largest theaters in the empire. The partial remains of this historic structure are now displayed beneath the modern Archaeological and Ethnological Museum of Córdoba, located next to the atmospheric 16th century Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo.

From palace gardens to private residence to school to museum, the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo has had a rich history.

Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo

What initially caught our attention as we walked through the square was the gloriously decayed sandstone façade of the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo family — aptly named, considering their surname, Castillejo, translates to “Little Castle” — which is essentially what this home was.

A pair of life-size marble korai, female figures dressed in long tunics, and a Corinthian capital with acanthus leaves creates a striking vignette.

This lovely Roman mosaic includes motifs such as interlaced Solomon’s knot, vines, pomegranates and crescent-shaped pelta shields.

One of the many beautiful Mudéjar-style niches with scalloped arches within the palace courtyard — and the equally dashing Wally. 

The residence was renovated in the 16th century by Luis Páez de Castillejo and stands on the grounds of what were once the gardens of Ybrahim Ben Nacer Alfaqui’s palace. In 1538, he commissioned the prominent Spanish architect Hernán Ruiz II to oversee the redevelopment of the main courtyard, Renaissance-style façade and sculpted railing of the main staircase. Ruiz II collaborated with his father, Hernán Ruiz the Elder, on the contentious construction of the Capilla Mayor within the Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba.

The silhouettes on the cloth added a modern art feel to this area of the courtyard.

Besides serving as the Páez de Castillejo residence, the building was used as a school at the end of the 19th century, known as the Polytechnic Academy. And in 1959, it became the Archaeological and Ethnological Museum of Córdoba.

This impressive sculpture, known as the Thoracata of Córdoba and named after a type of Roman battle armor, depicts the massive torso of a hero — possibly Aeneas in his escape from Troy — wearing an intricate breastplate adorned with a pair of griffins.

Its exterior is similar to Ruiz II’s work on the Puerta del Puente, the principal gateway to the Roman Bridge in town, and, like the monument, was designed in the style of a triumphal arch. Among its notable features are a pair of porticos supported by Doric columns, with heroic figures positioned between them. Above the entablature, classical figures hold the family coat of arms. This imagery aimed to immortalize the Páez de Castillejo family as the living embodiment of discipline, loyalty and self-sacrifice to the people of Córdoba. 

This staircase features a sandstone railing designed by Hernán Ruiz II as well as a Roman mosaic depicting rearing horses drawing a chariot.

Be sure to go through that gorgeous gateway — it’s free and only takes a short while to stroll around the courtyard.

Initially, Wally and I stood there, gawking and uncertain about entering, but after we saw a man speaking to the guard stationed at the entrance, we decided to ask about the building. The guard informed us that it’s an extension of the modern archaeological museum and welcomed us to take a look around the interior courtyard. We walked around the first courtyard, which is dedicated to Roman archaeology, including mosaics and sculptures. However, unlike the adjacent institution, the artifacts on display here are not clearly marked.

Although it’s not open to the public, the exterior of Casa del Judío is worth pausing to take a look at.

Casa del Judío

Over the centuries, the enigmatic building located across from the Palacio de los Páez de Castillejo has been inextricably linked to the Castilian royal family and the generations of noble lineages connected to them, including the Sousa, Haro, Armenia and Cárdenas families.

Originally a Mudéjar palace, the stately manor is also called the Palacio del Duque de Medina Sidonia, or the Palace of the Duke of Medina Sidonia. For, it was within these walls that the bastard son of Juana de Sousa and Henry II of Castile, Enrique de Castilla y de Sousa, aka the first duke of Medina Sidonia, was born.

While eating at La Cavea, we spotted a cool couple in front of the Casa del Judío.

Although it’s not open to the public, you can still admire its ceramic-tiled roof, vibrant fuchsia bougainvilleas and square tower with a hipped roof enclosed by a latticework screen. To the left of the doorway, sheltered by greenery, is a bronze bust perched atop a marble plinth immortalizing the Roman poet Marcus Annaeus Lucanus (39-65 CE), better known in English literature as Lucan. 

Lucan was the nephew of the philosopher-statesman Lucius Annaeus Seneca (Seneca the Younger). He attracted the favorable attention of the Roman emperor Nero but conspired with Gaius Calpurnius Piso in a scheme to assassinate Nero and install Piso as his successor. Ultimately, its failure led to Lucan’s arrest and his subsequent suicide at the age of 26. 

Today the home is more commonly referred to by locals as la Casa del Judío, or in English, the Jew’s House, in reference to Elie J. Nahamias, a Judeo-Greek businessman and its most recent owner, who passed away in 1994. Nahamias was a descendant of the pre-exile Sephardic communities that inhabited the Iberian Peninsula and assembled an impressive library of printed books and manuscripts spanning six centuries of Jewish history. His collection is held by the Library of the Alliance Israélite Universelle based in Paris, France. And although the property is privately owned by his children, you can still admire its beautiful exterior.

A cute location and a good option if you want a snack or drink while visiting the archeological museum — but otherwise you can find better food elsewhere in town.

Café-Bar La Cavea

The center of the square is taken up with a casual resturant, with tables placed under the shade of trees (with white umbrellas an additional barrier from the heat when needed), all sitting amid broken remnants of Roman columns. When we stopped by, there was live music, with a performer taking up station by the fountain.

Beware choco! Although our Spanish friends say it’s actually good, this one was rubbery and flavorless. If you really want to cringe, do a search for “cuttlefish.”

While the café gets points for its setting, the food didn’t impress us — especially since we ordered calamari but where told they had choco instead, which is very close. Imagine our dismay when we discovered that it not only looked like and and was practically the size of a bleached, deflated football, it tasted like one, too. (Wally had also made the mistake of Googling what cuttlefish look like, which didn’t do him any favors). I was recovering from heat stroke, so he choked down as much choco as he could before giving up.

Detail of an intricately carved Mudejar relief featuring sebqa work, a decorative technique characterized by the repetition of geometric and vegetal forms.

Hidden Gems

Our wanderings through the historic Plaza de Jerónimo Páez offered glimpses into Córdoba’s rich history, through its ruins, artifacts and storied mansions. This square is no longer the bustling entertainment district it was when it was home to one of the largest theaters in the Roman Empire. But it still captivates visitors with its antique structures and inviting energy. Be sure to admire your surroundings before you head into the archeological museum, which is worth visiting. –Duke

Plaza de Jerónimo Páez

 

Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba: Local Artists Through the Ages

Looking for things to do in Córdoba, Spain? Take a detour at the Cordoba Museum of Fine Arts and explore the city’s historic and artistic legacy.

The Cordoba Fine Arts Musuem is unassuming but provides an educational diversion for an hour or so. One gallery is dedicated to the works of sculptor Mateo Inurria and his works, including Les Tres Edades de la Mujer (The Three Ages of Woman) from 1923.

While looking for things for Wally and me to do beyond the remarkable Mosque-Cathedral of Córdoba, I stumbled upon an image of a room featuring a vibrant yellow totemic sculpture. The picture, which intrigued me, was from the Turismo de Córdoba website and was one of the galleries inside the Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba (Cordoba Fine Arts Museum). 

Colt Fountain in Plaza del Potro is an homage to the livestock that was once sold here.

Plaza del Potro: Where Livestock (and Sex) were Sold

The modest museum is tucked into a courtyard off the Plaza del Potro (Colt Square) and a short walk from where we were staying at Los Patios del Pañuelo. While commonly called a square, the plaza has evolved over time and is now a rectangle that stretches down to the Guadalquivir River. It contains two monuments: a fountain crowned with a sculpture of a rearing colt (hence the “potro” in its name), balanced atop a pineapple-shaped vase, and a statue of the archangel San Rafael, the city’s patron saint. 

Fun fact: Once a bustling hub for livestock traders, artisans and travelers, the square included the Posada de Potro (Colt Inn), a medieval brothel that was frequented by celebrated Spanish novelist Miguel de Cervantes. The author mentions the inn in his novel Don Quixote, referring to it as a “den of thieves.”

Sadly, the inn (a nicer way of saying whorehouse?), has since closed. Today, the storied property is home to the Centro Flamenco Fosforito, a small museum dedicated to renowned singer, Antonio Fernández Díaz, aka Fosforito, and the art of flamenco. 

To reach the museum, Wally and I went through a passage on the exterior of the former Franciscan Hospital de la Caridad (Charity Hospital), where the words “Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes” are carved in stone above the doorway. Once inside, we found a peaceful courtyard with a fountain surrounded by orange trees and a pair of busts. One pays homage to the museum’s first director, painter Rafael Romero Barros, while the other honors novelist, diplomat and politician Juan Valera. 

You enter the museum courtyard through the arched doorway seen here, underneath the fancy writing.

Andalusia is filled with charming courtyards, and this one doesn’t disappoint, with its beautiful stonework paths.

The museum’s collections span centuries and encompass paintings, drawings, sculptures and engravings by Cordoban artists from the 16th to the 21st century. 

After purchasing our entrance tickets, we noticed the bronze head of Gonzalo Fernández, the “Gran Capitán,” attributed to sculptor Mateo Inurria. 

Fernández earned his nickname “the Great Captain” by leading successful campaigns during the Conquest of Granada and the Italian Wars while serving the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella.

Cabeza de Gonzalo Fernández de Córdoba para el Monumento al Gran Capitán (Head of Gonzalo Fernández of Córdoba for the Monument to the Great Captain) by Mateo Inurria, 1915

Notice how the head of this statue is marble while the rest of it is bronze? The original metal head can be found in the Fine Arts Museum, though we’re not sure what prompted this odd decision.

Fun fact: This is the original head of an equestrian monument in la Plaza de las Tendillas, the town’s main square. For some reason, it was replaced by a head sculpted from white marble, in contrast to the rest of the figure.

You can start your exploration of the museum by turning left into the room covering the Baroque period and seeing religious art reappropriated by the government.

The Baroque in Córdoba 

We began our tour of the museum in Room IV, which held a number of impressive ecclesiastical works made at the height of Baroque painting in Córdoba. During this period, artists like Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra embraced naturalistic realism, employing chiaroscuro—the use of light and dark to emphasize the emotional narrative in their works. 

Inmaculada Concepción (Immaculate Conception) by Juan Antonio de Frías y Escalante, 1667

El Sacrificio de Isaac (The Sacrifice of Isaac) by Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra, circa 1650

The majority of these artworks were acquired from convents during La Desamortización, a period from 1835 to 1868, when the Spanish government seized monastic properties belonging to the Catholic Church, turning them into “national assets,” which were then sold at public auction to the highest bidder.  

One of the most coveted artistic projects after 1600 was the creation of 24 paintings for the altars of the cloister at the Franciscan Convent of San Pedro el Real by Antonio del Castillo. These canvases depict episodes from the life of Saint Francis de Assisi. In the museum’s painting, the scene depicts an angel holding the newborn saint above a baptismal font. 

Bautismo de San Francisco de Asis (Baptism of Saint Francis of Assisi) by Antonio del Castillo y Saavedra, circa 1664

Fun fact: The oil painting is signed “Non fecit Alfar” (Alfaro didn’t do it). This signifies that Castillo won the commission over his competitor, Juan de Alfaro y Gámez. How delightfully petty!

Bendición Sánchez by Julio Romero de Torres, 1904

The 18th and 19th Centuries in Córdoba 

The next gallery we visited contained works from the 18th and 19th centuries, predominantly featuring local landscapes, portraits and still lifes by the museum’s founder, Barros. 

Bodegón de Naranjas (Still Life With Oranges) by Rafael Romero Barros, 1863

The Baroque style eventually yielded to Rococo, and around 1775, in the wake of the Lisbon earthquake, it shifted once more, leading to a wave of local artists embracing Romanticism. Around this time, the Escuela Provincial de Bellas Artes was established, and within its walls, Barros emerged as a prominent figure. 

Barros assumed a dual role as both director and mentor to a group of art students, including Tomás Muñoz Lucena, Rafael Hidalgo de Caviedes and Inurria. Among them were his sons, Enrique, Rafael and Julio Romero de Torres.

Un Recuerdo de África, Novia Sefardí (A Memory of Africa, Sephardic Bride) by Rafael Romero Barros, 1878

Columbus Leaving the Mosque by Rafael Romero Barros, 1886

The painting Columbus Leaving the Mosque by Rafael Romero Barros was inspired by a poem by the Duke of Rivas titled “Romance of a Great Man.” It depicts Columbus leaving the Mosque-Cathedral after prayer and encountering his future mistress, Beatriz Enríquez de Arana, for the first time. According to legend, she brought Columbus to her home to protect him from mocking children who regarded him as a madman for seeking royal backing for his voyage to the New World.

We were pleasantly surprised to discover there was quite a large collection of modern art as well.

Art in the Modern Era: 20th Century and Beyond

Throughout the 20th century, local artists changed their styles to suit prevailing tastes, shifting from Realism to Modernism to Regionalism. They drew inspiration from contemporary artists like Rafael Botí, Pedro Bueno and Ángel López, who delved into Impressionism and Fauvism. In contrast, individuals like Antonio Rodríguez Luna and Alfonso Ariza embraced avant-garde movements such as Cubism, Abstraction and Expressionism.

Sin Título (Untitled) by José Duarte Montilla, 1981

El Cante (Flamenco Song) by Julia Hidalgo Quejo, 2005

La Fuente del Patio del Museo (The Fountain in the Museum Courtyard) by Rafael Botí Gaitán, 1990

Mujeres Vela (Sail Women) by Antonio Rodríguez Luna, 1945

A key figure among this group of artists was the sculptor Inurria. The museum has a room dedicated to his works.

Un Náufrago (A Castaway) by Mateo Inurria, 1890

While exploring the gallery, I was captivated by a peculiar painting by Ginés Liébana. His dreamlike piece Buenas Mujeres para ser Caballos (Good Women to Be Horses) was painted in 1979. Liébana creates a surreal scene by combining elements: a woman’s head adorned with a flower-covered hat on a horse’s body. He integrates local landmarks, such as the rearing colt of the Plaza del Potro and the figure of the Archangel Rafael, into this otherworldly landscape.

Buenas Mujeres para ser Caballos (Good Women to be Horses) by Ginés Liébana, 1979

Fun fact: Liébana contributed his distinctive style to Cántico, an avant-garde artistic magazine led by poet Ricardo Molina. The publication used poetry and illustration to challenge the status quo during the Franco dictatorship. 

Faded religious frescos and graffiti scribbled by hospital patients line the staircase.

Stairway to Heaven: Frescoes and Graffiti

The staircase leading to the upper floor includes graffiti that most likely was the work of hospital patients. One of these is a labyrinth with seven concentric circles surrounding a central point—visible beneath a monochromatic mural of Saint Jerome. 

On the rear wall, a religious scene depicts Christ on the Cross between the Virgin and Saint John the Evangelist. Flanking this central image is Saint Jerome, clutching a stone for beating his breast in penitence, and Saint Francis of Assisi in prayer. 

El Retablo de la Flagelación (Altarpiece of the Flagellation of Christ), circa 1500

Gothic and Renaissance Art in Córdoba 

The Gothic movement gained popularity in Córdoba in the late 14th century. However, it wasn’t until the 15th century that painters’ guilds flourished, distinguishing Córdoba from other Andalusian cities, such as Sevilla and Granada.

This environment was conducive to establishing major workshops by artists, including Alonso Martínez, Pedro de Córdoba, Jorge and Alejo Fernández, and Baltasar del Águila. Under the reigns of Charles V and Phillip II, local art underwent a transformation, departing from Gothic influences and embracing new expressions of Renaissance humanism. This worldview focused on the nature and importance of humanity that originated from the study of classical antiquity.

Here you can see an altarpiece from the chapel of a hospital founded in the 14th century by alderman Antón Cabrera and his wife, Beatriz de Heredia. The facility closed down in 1837. 

El Retablo de la Flagelación (Altarpiece of the Flagellation of Christ) is a superb example of the Córdoba school’s work and showcases the unknown artist’s adept use of Renaissance techniques. The composition of the figures reflects the Northern European style, popularized through engravings, and the panel as a whole draws inspiration from a similar painting produced by the German artist Martin Schongauer around 1480. 

Its side panels depict Saint John the Evangelist and Saint Anthony of Padua on the right, and Saint Anthony Abbot and Saint Francis of Assisi on the left, each with their distinctive iconography.

Fun fact: The artwork was initially misattributed to Alonso de Aguilar due to the mistranslation of a document accompanying the piece when it was acquired by the museum in 1866. 

Retrato de Joaquín y Rafael Mir de las Heras Niños (Portrait of Joaquin and Rafael Mir de las Heras Children) by Enrique Romero de Torres, 1905

A Life Fit for a Museum

The final gallery featured the exhibition Museum Worthy Life, dedicated to painter Enrique Romero de Torres (yes, the entire family had serious skills). After his father, Rafael, passed away in 1896, Enrique stepped up to run the museum as the director and curator. His responsibilities for the next 30 years kept him from dedicating himself entirely to painting. But under his direction, the renovations and expansions of the museum were carried out, with him paying for part of the works and donating, along with his brothers, paintings by his father. 

Take a quick lesson in local art history at the Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba, from Baroque to modern.

Listen, there are a lot of things you’ve gotta do in Córdoba, including La Mezquita, the Alcázar and the Palacio de Viana (not to mention taking a picture of the Roman Bridge). But if you have some free time, I recommend visiting this museum. Admission is only 1.50 euros (about $1.60) and is free to EU passport holders. The curation of each gallery is well thought out, ensuring an easy and enjoyable experience. Plus it’s a cool experience that will expose you to the artistic talents of Córdoba. –Duke

Museo de Bellas Artes de Córdoba 

Plaza del Potro, 1
Centro, 14002
Córdoba
Spain

 

Why Vitellius, the Little-Known Roman Emperor, Haunts Artistic Masterpieces

The legendary glutton pops up in numerous works of art throughout the centuries. Renowned classicist Mary Beard unravels the mysteries behind Vitellius’ ubiquitous appearances in artworks and sheds light on the significance of his portrayal. 

Most people nowadays aren’t familiar with Emperor Vitellius — but he was once well known as a depraved glutton.

Chances are you’ve never heard of Emperor Vitellius — he ruled the Roman Empire for just eight months in 69 CE during the civil wars that followed the overthrow of Nero. 

But despite his brief reign, Vitellius left a lasting impression — though not necessarily a positive one. Of course, that’s nothing out of the ordinary when it comes to Roman emperors. 

Like many of his cohorts, Vitellius was known for his vices, particularly his gluttony. His signature dish, the Shield of the Goddess Minerva, was a concoction that included livers of pipefish, peacock brains, flamingo tongues and lamprey innards. Umm, I’ll pass, thanks. 

Not surprisingly, the adjective “Vitellian” was once commonly used to describe something that was over-the-top and outlandish.

In addition to his gluttony, Vitellius was reputed to be a sadist, quoted as having said, “The stench of a dead enemy is wonderful. The stench of a dead fellow citizen is even better.” 

Mary Beard, a famous classicist, and author of the new book Emperor of Rome: Ruling the Ancient Roman World

And “in his spare time, he was a sexual pervert,” quipped Mary Beard, one of the most renowned classics scholars and author of the book SPQR, during a lecture at the Art Institute of Chicago. 

Beard didn’t get into it, but let’s just say Tiberius gave Vitellius the nickname Tight Ass — and it had nothing to do with being stingy. 

The Feast in the House of Levi by Paul Veronese, 1573

The painting has not one but two figures modeled after Emperor Vitellius!

Vitellius: The Where’s Waldo of the Ancient World

Despite his lackluster reputation, Vitellius’ image has been copied, reinvented and reincorporated into Western art for centuries. Beard explored the significance of this often-overlooked figure and why he continues to pop up in art even today.

Take, for example, Paul Veronese’s painting The Feast in the House of Levi from 1573. Painted in Venice for a religious order, it was originally intended to depict the Last Supper. But when the Inquisition objected to this representation because it included animals, a jester, Germans and a server with a bloody face, Veronese changed its name to another feast from the Bible.

Beard pointed out a figure in the painting who’s gazing across at Jesus, utterly transfixed. It’s none other than Vitellius. So what’s he doing in there? 

It’s revealing a major coup for Christ. “Here, Jesus is converting one of the most despicable, immoral Roman emperors ever,” she explained. 

But, strangely enough, that’s not the only Vitellius in the artwork. His face also shows up as a server. “This is a clever spin on Vitellius’ gluttony because here we see one of Rome’s biggest overconsumers being turned into a server himself,” Beard said. 

If you want to show depravity, as Thomas Couture did in his 1847 work The Romans in Their Decadence, you need look no further than Emperor Vitellius, whose face can be found below the topless woman on the left.

In Thomas Couture’s painting The Romans in Their Decadence (nicknamed The Orgy) from 1847, Vitellius creeps up again. He’s shown in the midst of a pile of drunken revelers, so comatose he doesn’t even notice the naked woman near him.

An American magazine declared this work “the greatest sermon in paint ever rendered,” Beard told us. It was even suggested that a reproduction of it should be displayed prominently in every school in the United States — naked woman and all.

The canvas is filled with sprawling, drunken revelers in various states of undress. While it’s showing a graphic depiction of Ancient Rome’s moral decline, there was also a contemporary message to it: People viewed it as an attack on the disparities of wealth in France at the time and the blatant immorality of the bourgeoisie.

Vitellius Dragged Through the Streets of Rome by Georges Rochegrosse, 1883

The emperor ruled only briefly, and met a gruesome end — beaten, impaled on a hook and thrown into the Tiber River.

“If you knew what happened to Vitellius at the very end, when he’d lost power — dragged through the streets, tortured, beaten to death, impaled on a hook and thrown into the Tiber — if you knew that, I think you’d see in this figure a strong hint that this scene of debauchery and the modern lifestyle it evoked was doomed,” Beard said. “A very nasty punishment was around the corner.”

This painting, by Jean-Léon Gérôme, was once known as Hail, Caesar! We Who Are About to Die Salute You — until it was spotted that the emperor was actually Vitellius.

And there’s Jean-Léon Gérôme’s 19th century painting of the gladiatorial games — a representation that’s said to have inspired director Ridley Scott’s Gladiator. It’s a painting known as Hail, Caesar! We Who Are About to Die Salute You. But if you zoom in on the emperor, it’s — sure enough — none other than Vitellius. There’s no doubt; it’s even got his name painted below him. 

The title changed to Gladiators Before Vitellius. “Now, learned pedants, of which I know there are some in the audience, may have spotted a historical problem here,” Beard said, “which is this is clearly in the Coliseum, but the Coliseum wasn’t yet built by the reign of Vitellius.”

The legendary Grimani Vitellius, which pops up in numerous paintings, has a shocking secret.

Busted! The Grimani Vitellius

So why does Vitellius keep showing up in artworks? 

For the most part, we can thank a bust that’s become known as the Grimani Vitellius.  

This famous ancient image of Vitellius was excavated in Rome in the early 16th century under the direction of Cardinal Domenico Grimani and was bequeathed by him to the city of Venice upon his death in 1523.

“Now, I am by no means the first to spot how ubiquitous the Grimani Vitellius is,” Beard continued. But what was the significance? “Why copy this image of Vitellius? What extra does it bring to your painting if you include him? What ideological or moral register is at work?”

The Grimani Vitellius bust became the perfect symbol of an amoral glutton — which is why it has been copied hundreds of times from the 15th century on.

Boy Drawing Before the Bust of a Roman Emperor by Michael Sweerts, circa 1660

The bust itself even appears in paintings, such as Boy Drawing Before the Bust of a Roman Emperor by Michael Sweerts, from the mid-1600s.

“You can say this is just a convenient visual source to copy,” Beard said. “But I think you miss a lot if you don’t also think `Vitellius.’ When people use recognizable faces in paintings, they usually do it for a reason. And they expect you to recognize it.”

There could be a darker intent in this work, Beard suggested. “Anyone who knew anything would surely have said, Why on Earth did they put this little innocent lad to draw that sexually perverted monster — even if he is the acme of the craft of sculpture. And I can’t help thinking … there are bigger questions about the potentially corrupting force of art.”

But that fat fuck is having the last laugh. The Grimani Vitellius isn’t even a portrait of Vitellius! Technical details, such as the way the eyes have been drilled, make it clear that it dates from the 2nd century and cannot possibly be Vitellius. 

The bust, also known as the Pseudo-Vitellius, actually depicts an unknown Roman probably from the 120s or 130s CE who, by coincidence, was unfortunate enough to look very much like the coin portrait of the emperor. 

A gold coin depicting Vitellius. The emperor’s depiction is what led to the mislabeling of the Pseudo-Vitellius bust.

Emperor Vitellius: The Art World’s Fascination With an Infamous Ruler

It’s fascinating to think that this bust, which was not even of Vitellius, spread like wildfire and has had such a lasting impact in art. 

So the next time you’re wandering through an art gallery or museum, keep an eye out for Vitellius. Thanks to Beard, I predict he’ll have a comeback. –Wally

Fashion in Full Bloom at Billy Porter’s Extravaganza at the Phipps Conservatory

A journey through the impressive Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens in Pittsburgh, where the latest exhibit, Flowers Meet Fashion: Inspired by Billy Porter is a fusion of flora and fabulousness. Strike a pose!

Duke, Mima and Papa were so inspired by the Japanese Garden at the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, they decided to only speak in haiku.

I’ll say it: The Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens puts Chicago’s Garfield Park Conservatory to shame. It was definitely one of the highlights of our trip to Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, where we spent a delightful long weekend with my parents. This stunning gem of Victorian-era architecture, adjacent to Panther Hollow in Schenley Park, has captivated guests for more than a century — and is sure to do so for years to come.

Visitors to the Phipps are greeted by a towering figure standing in front of a pink neon sign that reads, "You are an Icon." The skirt is made of petal-like layers. If you look closely, you can see hidden details, such as a map of Pittsburgh and song lyrics from the musical Kinky Boots.

From Roots to the Runway

Throughout the year, the conservatory changes themes seasonally, and our visit serendipitously coincided with the opening day of their summer show, Flowers Meet Fashion, a celebration of native son Billy Porter's local roots, his sartorial style and his love of flowers. 

For those of you who don’t know, Porter is an Emmy, Grammy, and Tony award winning performer and fashion icon. Billy is well known for his bold, creative and androgynous style, and is a tireless advocate for LGBTQ+ rights. According to the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette, the seeds for the show were sown in the summer of 2021, when Porter returned to the City of Champions to direct the movie Anything's Possible, a coming of age romantic comedy about a trans girl in her senior year of high school. While shooting scenes at the conservatory, Billy found common ground with the personnel and decided to become a board member.

As Billy wrote in his memoir, Unprotected:

I didn’t have the words for any of this at the time, just a child's awareness that people carried themselves differently in different clothing, that fashion could affect a profound transformation, on the outside and inside both.

The Phipps purchased a few favorites from past exhibitions to add to their permanent collection, including American glass sculptor Dale Chihuly’s Goldenrod, Teal and Citron chandelier. The stunning sculpture hangs in the atrium, where it can be enjoyed by all visitors.

A Welcoming Homage to Porter’s Pittsburgh Roots

Our experience began on the ground floor of the airy glass-domed Welcome Center, where a 7.5-foot-tall silver mannequin positioned near the entrance stood wearing a voluminous black gown. Entitled “Home Grown: Planted Roots,” the garment was designed by Madison Michalko, one of six professional costume designers tapped to create pieces for the show.

Michalko found her muse in Billy’s gender-fluid style and in the state of Pennsylvania. The bodice of the dress is shaped like a keystone, the state’s official symbol, accented with gold buttons and white mountain laurel blossoms, the state flower. The wide-brimmed hat is a nod to the crystal-fringed one Porter wore at the 2019 Grammys and features strands of LED lights that flicker like lightning bugs, the state insect.

This tuxedo dress by Damian Dominguez is a powerful statement about the importance of self-expression and the freedom to be who you are. The top is an homage to Mister Rogers, while the skirt is a nod to Dominguez’s Mexican heritage.

Palm Court: The Dress That Defied Convention

The four of us took an elevator up to the first of 14 interconnected conservatory pavilions and entered the spectacular Palm Court. The palms grow in the central and largest room of the conservatory, which reaches 65 feet in height, is 60 feet wide and 450 feet long. 

Holding court before us on a raised platform was a stunning dress by Mexican-American costume designer and Carnegie Mellon University alumnus Damian E. Dominguez. The look was inspired by the now-iconic black velvet tuxedo gown and matching bolero jacket designed by Christian Siriano for Porter to wear at the 2019 Academy Awards. Porter’s ensemble pushed boundaries and raised a few eyebrows at the somewhat restrained awards show. 

Like Siriano’s dress, Dominguez’s gown is also made from velvet but features a red tuxedo jacket in a nod to another Pittsburgh native, Fred Rogers. The hand-embroidered skirt includes a yellow bridge, as well as marigolds and dahlias, a nod to the designer’s heritage and the traditional full skirts of Mexico, where Dominguez’s parents were born.

Carnegie Mellon students Chloe Brown, Huixin Kang, and Jen Tepe reimagined a 1960s pantsuit that takes inspiration from the late British fashion designer Alexander McQueen's iconic Sarabande dress.

Sunken Garden: A Beacon of Hope

Our next stop was the Sunken Garden, which was filled with the colorful and creative designs by students from the Fundamentals of Costume Design class taught by Susan Tsu, professor of design at Carnegie Mellon, Porter’s alma mater. The students had been asked to read his memoir and then work in teams to create designs that reflected different aspects of Porter’s life and career. 

We paused to admire the sheer white pantsuit with crocheted fungi created by Chloe Brown, Huixin Kang and Jem Tepe. The designers explained that the fungi are a botanical metaphor for Porter’s exploration of his identity and his journey to self-reliance.

Could there be a pea in this pod? Caifeng Hong and Katherine Chung’s design was out of this world. 

Caifeng Hong and Katherine Chung’s look was inspired by the theme of contrast and rebirth. The dress is made of olive green netting layered over a green silk organza gown and collar that conceals the face of the mannequin. The contrast between the light and airy netting and the heavy and luxurious organza creates a sense of movement and energy. The collar, meanwhile, adds a touch of mystery and intrigue. The overall effect is a dress that is both ethereal and otherworldly, evoking something extraterrestrial.

Carrie Anne Huneycutt and Evan Riley’s collaboration was Somewhere Over the Rainbow, celebrating Porter's legacy as a trailblazing figure in the LGBTQ+ community. 

Carrie Anne Huneycutt and Evan Riley collaborated on the third look, entitled “Statue of Liberation.” The corseted dress is enveloped by a shimmering rainbow that soars above the mannequin’s head and is held aloft by a torch made of colorful fabric strips. The “flames” emanating from the torch represent Porter’s passion, determination and generosity of spirit.

Cathy Trostle-Olivar's dazzling Egyptianate look floats above the water of the Victoria Room. 

Fit for a Queen: From Camp to High Art 

In the Victoria Room, a luminous costume rose from the waters. The look was designed by Cathy Trostle-Olivar and was inspired by Porter’s glittering gold Egyptian sun god Ra costume at the 2019 Met Gala. The theme that year was camp, which Porter said can sometimes be seen as “cheesy.” However, when executed properly, it can ascend to “the highest forms of fashion and art.” The pavilion uses blue Egyptian lotus aka waterlily and tall stately papyrus to great effect. 

Three bronze maiden statues by Edmond Amateis, which originally stood within niches in the walled garden of the local Mellon estate, hold court among the formal French garden at the back of the Broderie Room.

The Broderie Room: The XIV Factor

Modeled after the formal period gardens of French chateaux during the reign of Louis XIV, the Broderie Room takes its name from the French “parterre de broderie,” a type of garden arrangement translated as “embroidery of earth.” This style of garden design came from a time when nature was considered a force to be tamed. 

I don’t speak French, but I think that this photo of Wally and Mima is très mignon. 

This fabulous footwear is a wink to the 2013 musical Kinky Boots, which Porter starred in, and a reminder that sometimes the most unexpected things can save the day. 

While visitors are discouraged from throwing coins into the many ponds and water features throughout the conservatory to protect the flora and fauna, a wishing well can be found here. 

Chihuly’s celestial Desert Gold Star sculpture provides a brilliant blast of color amid the green hues of desert flora.

These flowers are so whimsical, they could have been plucked straight out of a Dr. Seuss book.

Gallery Room: Blooming With Creativity 

Visual arts students from CAPA 6-12, a local creative and performing arts school, have transformed the Gallery Room at Phipps Conservatory into a whimsical wonderland. Using papier-mâché, the students have created larger-than-life flowers and animals that are sure to delight visitors of all ages.

The Gallery Room showcases a collection of critters created by local students.

The centerpiece of the exhibit is a towering salvia spike that nearly reaches the ceiling. The spike is made up of hundreds of individual flowers, all of which have been carefully hand-crafted by the students. And in the center of the room, a menagerie of amphibians and animals frolic in a whimsical forest.

These looks made from plant material by Phipps master gardeners were so avant-garde, they could be on the red carpet at the Oscars.

South Conservatory: “Hort” couture

The sound of camera shutters and the strobe of flashbulbs add a fun theatrical element to the red carpet vibe of the South Conservatory room. Wally spoke with one of the friendly conservatory staffers, who informed him that the topiary models were created by the master gardeners at the Phipps. The nature-inspired garments were fashioned from plant material sourced and crafted onsite at the conservatory and are so stunning, they would impress the judges on Project Runway.

The first mannequin featured a dried leaf hat in the shape of a lady slipper orchid, and a full skirt fabricated from clusters of blue hydrangea flowers contrasted by a form-fitting acid green palm frond bodice.

This look, inspired by a tetra fish, is sure to turn heads — even underwater!

The second look reimagines the scales of a neon tetra fish. Blue-painted magnolia leaves create a fish scale pattern on the jacket and hood, while salal leaves were used for the pants. Marigold-colored staghorn ferns are transformed into the cuffs and lapels, and painted monstera leaves create the “tail fin.” The deep-sea diver-like boots are made of upcycled accession tags, the metal labels that are issued to plants when they become part of the Phipps collection.

Well, this look is one fashion-forward way to channel your inner bird (note the nest atop its head and the dress details made of pheasant feathers).

The third look uses salal leaves trimmed with pampas grass and a dried grapevine garland to create drama and height, encircling the mannequin's waist and head like a bird’s nest. Completing the look are upcycled accession tag bracelets and white pheasant tail feathers.

The woman Wally had spoken with about the topiary models also told him about the Tropical Forest Conservatory, a 12,000-square-foot, 60-foot-high space located behind the South Conservatory. If she hadn't, I think we might have walked right by it, which would have been a shame. The incredible space is home to the immersive Tropical Forest Hawai'i, showcasing a variety of endemic and native species from the state. 

As soon as we stepped inside, we were transported to another world. The air was humid and warm, and we were surrounded by lush vegetation, with towering native trees and cascading waterfalls. 

This lettuce-covered look was a showstopper. I sure hope there’s an opening under the hat so the fish can eat!

The Serpentine Room: Salad Days and a Surprise 

As we made our way past the final five costumes, found in the Serpentine Room, I was unsure which look I liked best. But once I saw the aquaponics dress, I knew without a doubt that it was my favorite. The ingenious installation was a truly innovative and sustainable design. The clear acrylic body contained live goldfish, and the hoop skirt was made of living lettuce. A placard explained that the lettuce cleans the water and maintains a healthy ecosystem for the fish, whose waste, in turn, fertilize the plants. It was a truly beautiful — and functional —  piece of art.

Drag queen Thee Suburbia’s ruby red dress is a tribute to Porter’s uplifting message and blooms with the power of positivity.

Brooklyn-based drag performer Thee Suburbia designed the ruby red dress. She was inspired by a personal encounter with Porter, who spoke to the entire crew about the importance of lifting one’s surroundings, while working on a music video shoot for his song “Children.” Thee Suburbia’s gown pays homage to Porter’s attire that day as well as his words. The bursting blooms are a metaphor for the power needed to be an uplifting and inspiring force. It’s a friendly reminder to Phipps visitors that we can make the world a better place by lifting each other up.

Mindy Eshelman’s sustainable suit and cape is a sartorial love letter to Pittsburgh and our planet.

Next up was a white mandarin collar suit and oxblood-lined cape designed by Mindy Eshelman, associate professor of costume design at Carnegie Mellon. The sustainable, locally sourced and upcycled vintage piece was a perfect reflection of Porter’s deep connection to Pittsburgh, as well as the possibilities for our collective future — one in which caring for the planet is imperative. The look has been paired with vintage brooches, including flowers for Phipps, bees recalling our interconnectedness with the natural world, and butterflies symbolizing personal transformation. 

NYC performer Gloria Swansong’s designs evolved from the long-established pageantry of drag queen balls, a parade of gender expression and aesthetics.

To close out the show, New York City drag performer Gloria Swansong served up two stunning looks inspired by the underground 1980s ballroom scene. Category is: Botanicals Eleganza.

The first was an Old Hollywood-style gown made of shimmering blush pink silk organza. The sleek form-fitting dress was adorned with silk roses handmade in NYC by M&S Schmalberg.

The second look was an iridescent bouquet sleeve dress, a beautiful and meaningful tribute inscribed with the names of ballroom legends to honor their contributions to the community.

Don't forget to stop and “Strike a Pose” in front of the Instagram-friendly pink and green vertical wall before you leave the Serpentine Room.

Café Phipps: Lunch Break  

We arrived at the conservatory at 10:30 a.m. and were starving by noon. My dad and I are both notorious for getting hangry, so the four of us headed over to Café Phipps, which is located in the Welcome Center, across from the gift shop.

After taking a look at the elevated and healthy menu options, we agreed to have lunch there. The menu featured a variety of dishes made with fresh, seasonal ingredients. Wally and I shared a spinach and kiwi salad and a Hawaiian pulled pork sandwich. Both were delicious and satisfying.

Another Chihuly work, Celadon and Royal Purple Gilded Fiori, captures attention at the center of the Tropical Fruit and Spice Room.

Chihuly’s vibrant glass installation, Cattails, can be found nestled amongst the lush greenery of the Palm Court. 

The Porter-inspired show is a delightful experience, where talent and collaboration flourish. Whether or not you make this summer’s show, though, the Phipps is a feast for the senses. 

Be sure to find the Longfellows by Hans Godo Fräbel in the Orchid Room.

The Lowdown

Flowers Meet Fashion: Inspired by Billy Porter is on display at the Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens until June 25. 

Admission is $21.95 for adults; $19.95 for students over 18 and seniors 62 and older; $13.95 for children ages 2-18; and free for Phipps members and children under 2. 

A bronze sculpture of Scottish poet Robert Burns, holding a plow and contemplating a mountain daisy, stands outside one of the Victorian glasshouses at the Phipps Conservatory.

Phipps Conservatory and Botanical Gardens 

1 Schenley Park Drive 
Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
USA

 

Fábrica la Aurora: Textile Factory Turned Art and Design Center

A popular stop in San Miguel de Allende, the Fábrica la Aurora spins a new yarn as a complex filled with antique shops, galleries, artist studios and restaurants. 

La Fábrica la Aurora, an old textile factory, is a winding complex filled with art of all sorts.

San Miguel de Allende is a town with art in its DNA. There are galleries galore and shops full of colorful folk art. But we knew that one of the places we had to add to our itinerary was the Fábrica la Aurora. It just sounded so interesting: It’s a former textile mill that has been converted into a vibrant arts center. A remnant of Mexico’s industrial era, the factory was built at the turn of the 20th century and featured the best technology of the time. The complex operated for nearly 90 years producing percale (a fabric often used for bedsheets), muslin and flannel, before closing for good in 1991 — that is, until it was reimagined as an arts center in 2004.

We took one look at the mask wall at the front of Casa Michoacana and knew we had to go in.

Walk This Way: Shopping Stops on the Way to Fábrica la Aurora 

Whenever we can, we walk on foot in the cities we stay, and I’m especially glad we did so in SMA — otherwise we might have missed Casa Michoacana, an incredible shop filled with folk art that we passed on the way to the Fábrica. Many of the items here are made by artists from the state of Michoacán but also include a few from other regions of the country, too. You will find a collection of ceramic piñas of all sizes, multi-tiered candelabras, innumerable masks, wood carvings and more. The staff was patient and informative, and it was here that we found a variety of changos, black clay vessels used for storing mezcal in the shape of a monkey, and purchased one.

The owners also run the sister shop with the same name, a bit farther down, on the opposite side of the street. Look for the sign with two hands and an archway decorated with handpainted flowers.

“The renovation retains the building’s industrial character, with open spaces, concrete floors, high ceilings, steel casement windows, exposed pipes and more than a few industrial artifacts, including massive mechanical looms.”

We wanted to get this alebrije — but there’s only so much space in our home.

We did, though, find room to bring back a chango mezcalero!

As we walked along Calzada de la Aurora and crossed a puente (bridge), we paused to admire a carved Colonial-era Cantera stone cross. The crucifix features an INRI plaque at the top and so-called Arma Christi (Weapons of Christ), including glyphs of Christ’s face, a nail and a ladder — items linked with Christ’s crucifixion. 

If you walk to La Aurora, you’ll cross a bridge with this cross. It depicts the Arma Christi, the collection of artifacts related to the Passion of Christ.

Here’s your sign (literally) that you’ve arrived at La Fábrica la Aurora.

Art Park in front of La Fábrica la Aurora

Just a few minutes later, we passed an oxidized Cubist sculpture of four converging figures and a sign marking the entrance to Fábrica la Aurora. The park-like grounds contain additional sculptures, including Oso Grizzly by Francisco Esnayra, a striking work of art composed of a series of metal bands in the shape of a bear. It majestically stands in place on a patch of mulch amongst the trees, while the sculpture Looking for Balance by Rodrigo de la Sierra features a trio of his childlike Timoteo characters precariously balancing on an unsupported ladder. 

Oso Grizzly by Francisco Esnayra

Looking for Balance by Rodrigo de la Sierra

La Aurora’s historic façade includes its central archway with metal lettering and wrought iron gate.

The Dawn of a New Fold as an Art Makers Outpost

Most of the original structure of La Fábrica remains intact. Its brick façade is punctuated by Cantera stone arches, made from quarried volcanic rock. Its central entrance has a wrought iron gate and metal lettering spelling out “La Aurora” above. The arts and design center was founded by a quintet of creative forces: Francisco Garay, Christopher Fallon, Mary Rapp, Merry Calderoni and DeWayne Youts. In addition to showcasing local and expat artists’ works, there are also places to eat. A burger joint named El Grandpa & Son occupies one side of the front and can be seen through the aforementioned arches. There’s also a café called Geek & Coffee tucked away somewhere. We didn’t happen to stumble upon it during our visit — the complex is quite large and meandering. 

The front courtyard before you enter the sizable complex filled with galleries and studios.

The renovation retains the building’s industrial character, with open spaces, concrete floors, high ceilings, steel casement windows, exposed pipes and more than a few industrial artifacts, including massive mechanical looms that were used for the production of cloth from cotton. 

An industrial Zinser loom tucked among one of the galleries at La Fábrica la Aurora

Wandering the Maze of Fábrica la Aurora

The first shop we stopped into was Cantadora Antigüedades, which specializes in arte popular and ephemera from the 16th to 19th centuries. A figure depicting Jesus riding a donkey, possibly used during Easter week processions, stands outside the store entrance. 

By this time, Wally and I were both craving a snack, and the relaxed and casual open-air Café de la Aurora was the perfect spot. I tried a mango smoothie that incorporated a large dose of ruby red chamoy sauce, which was refreshing. If I had to describe the flavor, I would say that it was simultaneously sweet, spicy and tangy — the chile on the glass rim was a nice touch. What’s chamoy, you ask? The popular condiment is a combination of dried chiles, mangoes, apricots or plums and lime juice that’s added to flavor hard candy as well as drizzled on fruit. 

Just beyond the café, were the cutest vistas of potted plants arranged along the old factory wall.

Lotería imagery decorates this wall at La Fábrica la Aurora.

Can you see why Wally was obsessed with these vignettes?

One shop in the Fábrica, La Buhardilla, purchased a trove of items in 2004, including letters, sketches, paintings and clothing from an eccentric lawyer in Mexico City that were alleged to have once belonged to the surrealist Mexican artist Frida Kahlo. 

These artifacts are well-documented in the fascinating book Finding Frida Kahlo. The personal effects were said to have been originally acquired from Abraham Jiménez Lopez, a woodcarver who received them in lieu of payment for frames he had made for Kahlo. While many experts question their authenticity and say that the objects are fake, I’d like to believe that at least some of them are real. 

This kitty seemed to share our taste in art.

A modern-feeling wing of art galleries toward the back of La Fábrica

After resting and refueling, we ventured into another annex, where we saw a small black and white cat slinking through one of the galleries. We wandered into Manuk Galeria, which was founded by Mexican artist Lourdes Rivera. I suspect we were drawn to this gallery in particular because of its well-curated assortment of contemporary and folk art-inspired pieces.

Artwork on display at Manuk Galeria at the back portion of La Fábrica

While there, the compelling work titled Neblina (Fog), by self-taught artist Erik García Gómez, caught my eye. The painting features a stylized animal (pig? dog?) and spotted albino snakes. According to the artist’s bio, his main source of inspiration comes from the town he grew up in, San Cristóbal de las Casas, and memories of his grandmother, who was a village healer. 

Neblina by Erik García Gómez

A menagerie of heads from a sculpture workshop led by Juan Luis Potosí

The whimsical Travesías sin Rumba by Ernesto de la Peña Folch sits atop a pedestal outside CSEIS gallery. 

Italian for “the Spice,” Le Spezie lives up to its name — the spice of life, that is. This design shop features a mix of handicrafts from Mexico and other regions of the world. Colorful metal roosters, distressed painted furniture, sofas and accent cushions upholstered in colorful fabrics are all for sale here. Also of note is a range of industrial and hammered copper lighting fixtures. I especially liked the painted wood Kamadhenu, the wish-fulfilling Hindu cow goddess, sitting atop one of the cabinets. 

What’s not to love? The Kamadhenu is part woman, part cow, with the wings of an eagle and the tail of a peacock.

The last space Wally and I walked through was Rise, a store featuring the works of Argentine graphic designer Lucas Rise and a clothing line created by his wife and business partner, Giuliana Vastarella. Rendered in jewel-tone hues, his works have been digitally printed onto textiles, with a few resembling kaleidoscopic Rorschach tests. Rise works in a nontraditional manner by using cabinets as his canvas, combining geometric forms, each meticulously painted by hand. 

A steampunk-looking apparatus with oversized gears, a remnant of the textile factory, shares a space with Rise. 

Over the years, La Fábrica has expanded its galleries and studios as places where both national and international artists can create and sell their work. It’s a short distance from the historic center of San Miguel de Allende, and if you’re like the two of us, you can easily spend a fun afternoon going from one gallery to the next. –Duke

A statue of a rearing horse stands in the parking lot of the arts center.

Fábrica la Aurora

Calzada de la Aurora s/n
San Miguel de Allende
Guanajuato
Mexico 

 

Pilgrimage to Marfa, Texas

Seeking spirituality in the mystical town that modern artist Donald Judd helped build. 

Sleepy Marfa, Texas: Try the sotol at the Marfa Spirit Co. (on the left) and get your caffeine fix at the Sentinel coffee shop (to the right).

On Sunday we wake to our alarms set for 7:30 a.m. We crawl out of bed, run to the bathroom, throw on clothes — no time to brush teeth or make coffee. We’re not leaving town just yet. In fact, this is one of the reasons we arrived in the first place. I draw the bedroom curtains open in a panic. Phew. Okay, we’re okay — we have time. The sky is still an indigo gradient spreading across the Davis Mountains in the distance. And of course it is: The sun doesn’t rise until 7:50 something. 

We’re headed across town to the Chinati Foundation for an annual sunrise viewing of Donald Judd’s 15 untitled works in concrete. 

A ranch horse outside of Big Bend National Park

“It’s all about the light.”

— A random mom to her child, at the Chinati Foundation

All sense of anxiety — to be on time — flees once we arrive. Folks park their cars along the main road leading to the foundation’s gates. People seem to be getting out of their cars and making their entrance in slow motion. Maybe they’re hungover from the free booze at the arena last night. Maybe they also had to skip the coffee this morning. Or maybe this place is just demanding our slow presence, asking us to be aware. 

The 15 works in concrete are actually 15 separate arrangements of concrete rectangular prisms stretching north to south in a straight one-kilometer line. There are 60 boxes in total. Each unit contains the same dimensions, 2.5 by 2.5 by 5 meters, and is built with concrete slabs 25 centimeters thick. Each work plays with shape and light — some with units arranged into triangles and others into rectangular patterns; some with three in a group, others with six. Throughout the works, the individual units showcase variety. Some are completely closed boxes and others allow light and air to permeate: sometimes on the long sides, sometimes on the short ends. 

The light changes everything when viewing Donald Judd’s untitled concrete works in Marfa, Texas.

There’s a stillness in the air this morning. Not creepy or eerie. Just still. Calm. As we descend the path leading to the sculptures — every step leaving new, prickly grass burs stuck to our boots — I can tell the sun has broken above the horizon. I can’t see it behind the pony wall of clouds, but I know it. The once-indigo sky is getting brighter and lighter by the moment. Fog in the distance is becoming more obvious and the dew on the desert grass is catching the light. 

Judd’s works, finished in 1984, can be found on a former military compound.

Once we get down to the long line of concrete boxes, I know I want us to walk south. There’s a small hill at the end. It’s the only place on campus where you can see all 15 works at once. On a mission, in a race against time — I wasn’t sure how quickly the sun would rise above the clouds — we led the march atop the hill. And then we just stood there. Watching other observers and observing ourselves. Resting. Waiting. I wanted this perspective for when the light rose above the clouds and spilled out onto the land and through the sculptures. 

The gorgeous scenery in nearby Big Bend National Park

Donald Judd’s Mission and My Personal Pilgrimage 

For a long time I’ve struggled with what it means for something to be spiritual or to be a spiritual person. I’ve identified as nonreligious since my early 20s, shortly after coming out. I think growing up in an evangelical family made me believe that anything spiritual was inherently related to God. And when I left the Southern Baptist church, I had no intention of going back or being associated with religion ever again. I didn’t want to talk about spirituality, much less think about it — it was all tied up in terrible church experiences.

Though, the first time I watched the sun creep above the horizon, stretch its golden light across the surfaces of the Judd pieces and pour a warm glow throughout the Texas desert, it clicked. I thought, “This is spiritual.”

The entrance to the Chinati Foundation’s John Chamberlain Building

Throughout his career, Judd was interested in ideals of autonomy (a key principle of minimalism), both for the artist and for the artist’s works, hence his anti-museum philosophy and developing this middle-of-nowhere campus for creating and showing his work and that of his contemporaries. For the sculptures, though, a driving concept was his interest in space — how an object takes up and contains space and how an object can be permanent and site-specific. Or as Judd put it, he was interested in “specific objects.” I interpret “specific” to mean both mathematical but also unique to the space in which the object resides.

All of Judd’s sculptures demand your awareness of the space around them, either through scale, texture, color, reflective qualities, placement or some mixture of attributes. 

I’m so drawn to the concrete works because they practically beg you to fall in love with the light and land around them. The Brutalist forms cast geometric shadows, sharp lines amid desert grasses, prickly Texas dirt and a soft view of the Davis Mountains on the horizon. It’s an emotional juxtaposition asking you to consider yourself against the land, by way of the art itself. It’s a manmade proposition with an unavoidable spiritual consequence. 

Inflection Point by Darren Almond (2022) frames the entrance to the Hetzler Marfa gallery property.

If you get the opportunity to visit Marfa, here are tips from someone who has visited five times since 2015.

4 Tips to Get the Most Out of Marfa

1. Get the full Judd experience.

Some people are drawn to Marfa by the quirky allure of a small art town in the middle of nowhere, or by the iconic Prada Marfa installation (26 miles outside of town, LOL), or by the rentable bohemian trailers and yurts of El Cosmico. And many of them have no clue about the Chinati Foundation or who Donald Judd was. It’s sad not just because they’re missing out on a key contribution to modern art history, but also because without Judd’s arrival, Marfa would likely still be in collapse after Fort D.A. Russell was decommissioned in 1949 (the main site of Judd’s campus).

The Judd Foundation

I love visiting Marfa during the annual Chinati Weekend, when the foundation opens its doors to the public for self-guided tours, and the town’s shops and galleries hold special hours for the influx of visitors. 

Outside of that early October weekend, I do recommend visiting when Chinati hosts a sunrise or sunset viewing and also making an appointment for a full collection tour (a four-and-a-half-hour experience).

Caleb’s husband, Brennan, reading the exhibition guide at Ballroom Marfa gallery during Chinati Weekend Open House in 2022

The Judd Foundation — the organization charged with preserving Judd’s living and working spaces, libraries and archives in NYC and Marfa — also provides rich tours of the artist’s other sites throughout town.  

Slow down and forgo your expectations. You’re on Marfa time.

2. Know that Marfa operates on Marfa time, and the town is always changing.

Planning for trips is not in my nature. I hate it. But your trip to Marfa needs planning. For one, there is a limited number of places to eat, drink and stay (see also: gentrification in Marfa). Second, that list of places is always changing. If you read a list of things to do from this year, I can guarantee it will be outdated in less than 12 months. And finally, a business’ hours of operation are far from predictable. We passed a bookshop with a posted sign reading, “Hours: We Give Up! Check: FB, IG and Marfa Group” (a private forum on Facebook). That’s the vibe everywhere — don’t trust Google, or even a business’ website. Check their social.

Sunrise in Marfa, Texas, from Caleb and Brennan’s Airbnb

3. Dress for the desert.

Think of those early fall days when you’re excited to wear layers. Because that’s what you’ll need: layers. Hot days and cool nights, because desert. Buy your cowboy hat before you visit. They’re cheaper outside of town. And consider making the two-hour drive south to Big Bend National Park. If you go, be prepared for a hike, literally.  

Horses seen on a run just west of town

4. Realize that getting there is a beautiful trek. 

Jenny Moore, Chinati’s former director, said, “You can get from New York to Paris, seated and eating dinner, faster than you can get from New York to Marfa. So, you got to make the commitment to come here.” That’s the truth. The two closest major airports, El Paso and Midland-Odessa, are each about a three-hour drive north. Whether you fly into El Paso or make the six-and-a-half-hour drive from Austin, Interstate 10 is bound to be on your route, taking you through the Chihuahuan Desert. Take it all in: the grasslands, the basins and plateaus; and watch the sky reach from one end of the Earth to the other. –Caleb Fox

Families playing by the Rio Grande river at Big Bend National Park

One of Caleb’s favorite desert plants, the ocotillo, at Big Bend National Park

 

A Tour of the Malecón Sculptures in Puerto Vallarta

You might recognize Caballero del Mar (The Boy on the Seahorse), but here’s a cheat sheet for the other statues along the PV boardwalk.

Wally has a seat and imitates his favorite sculpture on the Malecón, the creepy, cool La Rotunda del Mar (The Roundabout of the Sea).

If you spend any time in Puerto Vallarta, you’ll inevitably find yourself strolling along the Malecón, the boardwalk that lines the Bahía de Banderas. It’s not an old-fashioned wooden boardwalk as you might see in the States; it’s a wide concrete promenade lined with tourist shops, massive restaurants and clubs blaring music. It’s where everyone in PV goes to congregate, acting as a town square for tourists and locals alike.

You’ll have to get used to being constantly called out to (“hassled” is perhaps too harsh a word, but one you might be using after a few days). 

““Malecón” is simply the Spanish word for a waterfront promenade.”

The Malecón stretches for about a mile, from the edge of the Zona Romántica, over the Cuale River, and on into Centro, the center of town, up to the Hotel Rosita on Calle Treinta y Uno de Octubre. Its first incarnation was as a breakwater built in 1936 and named the Paseo de la Revolución. It later became the Paseo Díaz Ordaz before getting enlarged and becoming the Malecón as we now can experience it. (In fact, “malecón” is simply the Spanish word for this type of waterfront promenade.)

The iconic Los Archos (The Arches) that are now there are a replica, as the originals were damaged in 2002 by Hurricane Kenna. The first were built during the colonial period and brought from a hacienda in Guadalajara.

Los Archos frame Bahía de Banderas and the spit of land called Nuevo Vallarta, where many of the big resorts and hotels are located.

When you want to get some exercise, perhaps in the late afternoon, when the sun isn’t blazing down so fiercely, take a tour of the public sculptures that line the Malecón. 

Bailarines de Vallarta (Dancers of Vallarta) by Jim Demetro, 2006

Fun fact: The couple is performing the jarabe tapatio, the Mexican hat dance, which originated as a courtship ritual. 

San Pascual Bailón by Ramiz Barquet, 2008

Fun fact: The 16th century Spanish Franciscan friar, aka Paschal Baylón, became the patron saint of cooks.

La Fuente de la Amistad (The Friendship Fountain) by James “Bud” Bottoms and Octavio González Gutiérrez, 1987

Fun fact: The sculpture was a gift from Puerto Vallarta’s sister city, Santa Barbara, California. The dolphins symbolize peace, protection and brotherhood between the two cities.

The artists were inspired by a myth of the Chumash, a native people from what’s now Southern California. The Earth goddess, Hutash, created a rainbow bridge to connect the Chumash from their island to the mainland. And even though she warned those crossing not to look down, some did, losing their balance and falling. But as they plummeted into the ocean, the goddess transformed them into dolphins so they would not die.

Caballero del Mar (The Boy on the Seahorse) by Rafael Zamarripa, 1976

Fun fact: The first statue to be erected on the Malecón, it has become a symbol of the city. 

Triton and the Nereid by Carlos Espino, 1990

Fun fact: In Greek mythology, Triton was the son of Poseidon, the god of the sea, and nereids were sea nymphs who would help sailors during storms.

Lluvia (Rain) by Jovian, 2020

Fun fact: The artist says, “I tried to present a man with open arms as a symbol of openness, positively receiving what the world offers him with a gesture of happiness and fulfillment, eyes looking up into the rain without that affecting his peace but rather enjoying the water that falls on his body and making him feel free and alive.

That is what Vallarta is for me: a city with great openness, which welcomes locals and strangers with open arms. I have never known another city where people who come from other places feel so at home.” 

En Búsqueda de la Razón (In Search of Reason) by Sergio Bustamante, 2000

Fun fact: Another of our faves, this statue divides its audience — some think the mother is pleading with her children to come down, while others think she’s encouraging them to explore new heights.

La Rotunda del Mar (The Roundabout of the Sea) by Alejandro Colunga, 1996

Fun fact: These strange steampunk creatures, a fantastical mélange of humans, animals and tech tools, are inspired by the folk tales the artist heard as a child. Incidentally (and perhaps not surprisingly?), this is Duke and my favorite sculpture along the Malecón.

Naturaleza Como Madre (Nature as Mother) by Tapatio Adrián Reynoso, 1997

Fun fact: If the shape confuses you a bit, it’s a wave that’s becoming a woman…while balancing on a snail shell. 

Unicornio de la Buena Fortuna (Unicorn of Good Fortune) by Aníbal Riebeling, 2011

Fun fact: No surprise, given its name, but it’s said to be good luck to touch it. In fact, the city had to raise the base to help deter people from climbing on top of it for pictures.

El Sutil Comepiedras (The Subtle Rock-Eater) by Jonás Gutiérrez, 2006

Fun fact: No one knows why exactly this man wants to eat rocks (as if there’s anything subtle about that), aside from the fact that he’s supposed to be a magician.

The statue is a great spot to watch the Voladores de Papantla spin around a pole on ropes attached to their feet. These “Flying Men” are part of an ancient ritual.

La Nostalgia by José Ramiz Barquet, 1976

Fun fact: One of the oldest on the Malecón, placed there in 1984, the sculpture is inspired by the love story between the sculptor and his wife, Nelly Galván-Duque Tamborrel. The couple met but then lost touch for 27 years before meeting again and getting married.

The Millennia by Mathís Lídice, 2001

Fun fact: There’s a double-helix DNA strand at the bottom to show that humans evolved from the sea alongside octopi, fish, frogs and lizards. This is followed by the French Charlemagne, the king of the Francs, bearing a sword, then the pre-Columbian poet-king Nezahualcoyotl. And the future is represented by a woman releasing a dove of peace.

So take a break from sunbathing, get a little culture and take some fun photos — it’ll give you an excuse to avoid the incessant hawkers trying to lure you into a sale. –Wally

The Cool Confines of the Luxor Museum

Whether you need a break from exploring the temples of Luxor and Karnak to escape the heat or just want to take a virtual tour, the Luxor Museum is filled with amazing statues and reliefs of King Tut, Akhenaten and other famous pharaohs, as well as Egyptian gods including Amun, Sobek and Sekhmet.

Not too many travelers bother with the Luxor Museum — but that’s a mistake.

A processional route over a mile and a half long once connected the temples of Luxor and Karnak. There’s talk of renovating and reopening this roadway, and it would be an impressive sight, lined with noble sphinxes, with the glittering water of the River Nile twinkling off to one side. To be honest, though, I can’t imagine that long of a walk, with no shelter from the sun god Ra’s blazing heat. 

After you’ve explored Luxor or Karnak Temples, though, you can escape the intense sun with a visit to the Luxor Museum. Even though it’s situated about a 20-minute walk from Luxor Temple, partway to Karnak, it seems as if not too many tourists add this to their itinerary. 

When we suggested it to our guide, Mamduh, he looked a bit surprised, as if we might have been the first people he’s had make the request.

“If you want to see a lot of the statues that once filled the temples of Ancient Egypt, you’ll have to visit a museum.”

The interior is a cool, sleek white space with angles that give it a surprisingly modern feel. It’s not too large of a space, which means you can see the entire collection in an hour or so. 

Guides aren’t allowed to lecture about the various exhibits. So Mamduh, who had been with us all week, educating us on Ancient Egyptian culture and archeology, from Aswan up to Luxor, had to shift his role. He was no longer our teacher; he became a friend exploring the museum with us. Judging from the sparkle in his eye and his childlike sense of wonder, he hadn’t spent much time in the museum and looked at this as an opportunity to increase his education.

The mummified remains of Ramesses I have a colorful past, including a stint at Ripley’s Believe It or Not! in Niagara Falls, Ontario. Unlike at the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, you can actually photograph this mummy.

Where Are the Statues of Ancient Egypt?

The temples of Ancient Egypt, once packed with statues, are now sadly bereft of these works of art. I often remarked to Duke how much I wished the niches, sanctuaries and pedestals were still home to the statues that once adorned them. If you want to see these statues, you’ll have to visit a museum — and the one in Luxor fittingly houses numerous carvings that were unearthed at the nearby temples of Karnak and Luxor.

Before we started wandering the museum, we stopped into an auditorium to watch a short documentary about Thebes (the ancient city where Luxor now stands). The fim had a grainy, bootlegged quality that revealed how woefully outdated it is. It reminded Duke and me of the film reels we used to watch in elementary school. To be honest, I don’t recall much about it. If time is limited, this is definitely something you could skip.

Here’s a brief tour of the Luxor Museum, showcasing some of our favorite artifacts.

Senusret I (circa 1971-1926 BCE)

Limestone 

Part of the colossal pillar of Pharaoh Senusret I from the White Chapel at Karnak, the structure was built to commemorate the first anniversary of the Sed Festival, held during the 30th year of his reign. Senusret is depicted in the traditional form of the god of the afterlife, Osiris, with arms folded across his chest and holding an ankh, the symbol of life, in each hand. 

Senusret III (1878-1840 BCE) 

Quartz 

This quartz head, found at Karnak, sporting the double crown and false beard, captures the humanity of the great Twelfth Dynasty ruler. His heavy-lidded eyes and supposed slight smile (I don’t really see it) represent  a break in the sculptural tradition of Egypt’s Middle Kingdom. 

Amenenhat III (1841-1792 BCE)

Black granite

Check out that look of disgust! Stern features like this were typical of the Middle Kingdom statuary.

Ramesses III (1550-1532 BCE)

Graywacke

This cult statue of Ramesses III, the last great warrior king of the New Kingdom, wears a short wig surmounted by the double crown. One part of the sculpture, which decorated the Precinct of Mut at Karnak, was discovered in the 1930s by the Oriental Institute of Chicago. The other was unearthed in 2002 by an expedition team from Johns Hopkins University. 

Thutmose III (1490-1436 BCE)

Graywacke

Shown eternally youthful, Thutmose III is wearing a belt with his cartouche, an oval carving with the pharaoh’s name in hieroglyphics.

Amun-Min relief (1490-1436 BCE)

Limestone

Look at those colors, still so bright after thousands of years! The chief deity Amun is merged with the fertility god Min. The relief, from Deir el-Bahari, was destroyed during the Amarna period and restored by a later pharaoh.

Unknown officer (1440-1400 BCE)

Sandstone 

This uninscribed Eighteenth Dynasty painted statue depicts an officer wearing a shebyu collar. While these necklaces were often worn by New Kingdom pharaohs, they were also given as a reward for valor or distinguished service.

Amenhotep II relief (circa 1426-1400 BCE)

Red granite

Amenhotep II was particularly proud of his prowess as an athlete and warrior. He’s shown shooting arrows through a target. In the inscription, he boasts of being so much stronger than normal men that he uses copper for target practice rather than wood, through which his arrows pass like papyrus.

Sobek and Amenhotep III (circa 1386-1353 BCE)

Calcite, Egyptian alabaster

The crocodile-headed deity holds an ankh to bestow life to the youthful ruler. The statue was usurped by Ramesses II.

Iwnit (1405-1367 BCE)

Diorite, possibly

This statue of Iwnit, a minor goddess from the Amduat and consort to the god Montu, was created during the reign of Amenhotep III. With dimples at the corner of her mouth, which give the impression of a fleeting smile, some call this the Mona Lisa of Karnak.

Amenhotep III (circa 1386-1353 BCE)

Quartzite

This New Kingdom figure of Amenhotep III was originally adorned with gold that was removed in antiquity, leaving some rough spots visible where armlets once were. 

Sekhmet

Gray granite  

The war goddess Sekhmet personified the fierce protective aspects of women and was known as the Mistress of Dread (coolest nickname ever?). In the New Kingdom she belonged to a group of goddesses known as the Eye of Ra. Here she’s shown with a broken sun disk above her head.

Amenhotep, son of Hapu (1400 BCE) 

Granite 

This statue of a seated scribe with stylized fat folds represents Amenhotep, son of Hapu, an important official under Pharaoh Amenhotep III. A palette with two inkwells, one for red and one for black, hangs over his left shoulder. As overseer of all the king’s works, a post he reached later in life, he was responsible for many of Amenhotep’s ambitious building projects. Like Imhotep, he became deified after death. 

Wall painting of Amenhotep III (circa 1386-1353 BCE)

Painted stucco

Sadly, all that’s left of this wall painting from the tomb of an official are fragments. The image shows Pharaoh Amenhotep III seated under a canopy, with his mother behind him and his enemies beneath him, a position of power. If you want to see what this would have looked like in full, the facsimile painted in 1914 by Egyptologist Nina de Garis Davies can be viewed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. 

Amenhotep III (circa 1386-1353 BCE)

Granodiorite 

This sculpture from north Karnak depicts the kneeling figure of Pharaoh Amenhotep III, a popular figure at the Luxor Museum. Holding a pair of flails, the king is kneeling during his coronation by the god Amun-Ra, whose now-missing hand would have originally rested upon Amenhotep’s crown. 

Temple wall of Amenhotep IV aka Akhenaten (circa 1380-1335 BCE)

Sandstone

This partially restored wall from a razed temple dates from the first five years of Amenhotep IV’s reign. The fragments,  known as talatat, were used as filling material and removed from the interior of the ninth pylon at Karnak. This scene depicts the so-called Heretic King and his wife Queen Nefertiti worshipping the multi-armed Aten, with images of daily life associated with the temple storehouses, workshops and breweries.

Akhenaten (circa 1380-1335 BCE)

Sandstone 

These are the remains of a colossal statue in the easily identifiable Amarna style (which we both love) found east of the Amun-Ra temple precinct, in an open court dedicated to the solar god Aten, built by Akhenaten in the third year of his reign. The colossi were knocked down and left in situ during the reign of Horemheb. During an excavation in 1925, Henri Chevrier, chief inspector of antiquities at Karnak, uncovered 25 fragments.

Tutankhamun sphinx (1347-1336 BCE)

Calcite

The face of this sphinx from Karnak Temple appears to bear the features of King Tut — most noticeably in the eyes and chin. This likeness wears a nemes headdress and originally had human arms that held a vase. 

Tutankhamun as Amun (1347-1336 BCE)

Limestone

Amun, the patron deity of Thebes, is depicted in the form of the legendary Boy King. Tutankhamun restored the cult of Amun (and the other gods) after the death of monotheistic, monomaniacal Akhenaten.

Atum and Horemheb (circa 1300-1292 BCE)

Diorite

The militaristic Pharaoh Horemheb kneels before the solar deity Atum, offering two nw jars. Atum is seated on a throne, holds an ankh and wears a long wig and a curved false beard, topped with the double crown of Egypt. Carved into the side of the throne is the sema tawny, lung and windpipe, symbolizing the union of the two lands (Lower and Upper Egypt). The well-preserved artwork was discovered in 1989, buried beneath the solar court of Amenhotep III at Luxor Temple. 

Seti I (1323-1279 BCE)

Alabaster

Wally thinks the spot where his penis would be was a light switch. Seti I was a warrior king like his father Ramesses I before him. He was the husband of Queen Tuya and the father of Ramesses II also known as Ramesses the Great. A passionate builder, he’s responsible for the hypostyle hall at Karnak. 

Nebre (circa 1292-1189 BCE)

Sandstone

This work was discovered at a fortress that protected the western border of Egypt from the Libyans. Nebre served as a commander under Ramesses II and held multiple titles, including troop commander, charioteer of the king, overseer of foreign lands and chief of the Medjay, an elite police force. He holds the staff of office, topped by the lion head of Sehkmet, goddess of war. –Wally

 

A Visual Tour of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo

Take a virtual tour to see our favorite statues of famous pharaohs and tomb relics.

If you can’t actually visit the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, do the next best thing: Virtually tour some of the exhibits below

It’s bad enough that I’ve been self-quarantined inside our home for a week and a half now, with no end to this isolation in sight. On top of that, I seem to have contracted the dreaded coronavirus, with lingering symptoms of COVID-19. 

To make matters worse, I’ve had to cancel a mini-sabbatical to Spain, where I had planned to visit my good friends Jo and José in Málaga, fulfilling my dream of experiencing Semana Santa and touring the colorful towns of the South of Spain, with their charming Moorish influence. 

Plus, it’s looking as if Duke and I will also have to forgo our trip to Athens and the Greek Isles this spring as well. 

“Most of us find ourselves looking for ways to live vicariously, to continue to explore the world — even if that means virtually. ”

Like many of you, travel is what we look forward to. In many ways, it’s what makes life worth living. Planning a trip abroad gives Duke and me something to dream about. In a time when the world wasn’t so chaotic, our future travels would be what got us through tough times. Now we have no idea when we’ll be able to take a vacation again. The world is on lock-down, frozen in place. It’s not a comfortable feeling, and the real extent of the crisis might not be apparent for weeks or even months.

With so much time on our hands, most of us find ourselves looking for ways to live vicariously, to continue to explore the world — even if that means virtually. 

Here’s a photographic tour of the Egyptian Museum in Cairo, showcasing some of our favorites statues, sarcophagi and other works of art. (To get a feel for the delightfully dilapidated museum, read Duke’s write-up.)

A gray granite statue of Ramesses II as a child protected by the god Horus, depicted as a falcon.

The fragmented sculpture of the goddess Mut and her husband, the chief god Amun, is composed of 79 pieces. The head of the goddess was discovered by French Egyptologist August Mariette in 1873. Other parts were unearthed during additional excavations in the Temple of Amun-Re at Karnak and sent to the museum, where they were reassembled.

The colossal figures of Amenhotep III, who ruled around 1386-1353 BCE, and his wife Tiye survey the great hall of the Museum of Egyptian Antiquities. The statue was discovered at Medinet Habu. Tiye, whose arm wraps around her husband's waist, is the same size as the king, demonstrating her equal status as a powerful and influential queen.

This statue, carved in a variety of sandstone known as graywacke, shows the Fourth Dynasty Pharaoh Menkaure wearing the crown of Upper Egypt. The king, who was born in 2532 BCE, is flanked by the goddess Hathor (left), crowned with a solar disc between cows horns, and Anput (right), the personification of the 17th nome, or district, of Upper Egypt. Note the jackal above her, referring to her husband, the god Anubis.

A realistic-looking sycamore wood figure with white quartz and resin eyes from the Fifth Dynasty, depicting a khry-heb, or lector priest, named Ka-aper. He was responsible for transcribing religious texts and reciting hymns in the temple and at ritual festivals.

Skeleton of a dog. Ancient Egyptians were known to sacrifice and mummify a variety of animals.

An alabaster statue of the high priestess Amenirdis, who held the title of God’s Wife of Amun during the Twenty-Fifth Dynasty. She’s wearing a diadem of cobras and holding a small whip, or flagellum, bent to resemble a lily.

A row of small stone sarcophagi stand in front of a chipped wall typical at the Egyptian Museum

A statue of Meryre and his wife Iniuia. Meryre began his career under the reign of Akhenaten, the so-called Heretic King who ruled from 1353-1336 BCE in the Eighteenth Dynasty, as steward and scribe of the Great Temple of the Aten in Armana, Akhenaten’s capital city, and later as high priest at the temple of Aten at Memphis.

Dwarves commanded respect in Ancient Egypt, thought to possess divine gifts. One of the much-loved gods of the time, Bes (right), was depicted as a dwarf.

A granite sarcophagus lid of a dwarf named Djeho from the Thirtieth Dynasty. Inscriptions on the lid indicate that he was employed to dance at burial ceremonies connected to the sacred Apis bull.

This painted limestone head of Hatshepsut originally belonged to one of Osiride statues resembling the god of the underworld, Osiris, at Deir el-Bahari, the female pharaoh’s mortuary temple.

This granite sphinx was one of several that once stood at Hatshepsut’s mortuary temple. This remarkable woman ruled Egypt, first as co-regent for her nephew/stepson Thutmose III and subsequently as pharaoh.

Another sphinx of Hatshepsut, this one painted limestone. It’s believed to have originally stood at her mortuary temple. Unusual for Ancient Egypt, her face is surrounded by a leonine mane.

A detail of the outermost shrine that enclosed the sarcophagus of Tutankhamun. Composed of gilt plaster over wood with a faience inlay, it bears protective symbols: the djed, or spine of Osiris, and the tjet, or Isis knot.

A diorite statue of the Fourth Dynasty Pharaoh Khefren, who may have ruled around 2558-2532 BCE, seated on a throne, protected by the outstretched wings of a falcon, a symbol of the god Horus. The eagle is on the back, so you unfortunately can’t see it from this angle.

A statue of the lion-headed goddess of war, Sekhmet. Don’t let her calm expression fool you: She could be violent and was given various titles, including Mistress of Dread, Lady of Slaughter and She Who Mauls.

This compact granite block statue depicts Senenmut, the favored official and director of building works under Hatshepsut, who reigned from 1479-1458 BCE, during the Eighteenth Dynasty. Senenmut held many roles, one of which was tutor to Hatshepsut’s daughter, Princess Neferure. The strange style of statuary was common for tutors. The head of the young royal emerges from Senenmut’s cloaked, protective form.

Model soldiers carrying shields and spears from the tomb of a pharaoh. Fun fact: The bravest soldiers were given amulets shaped like flies, to show that they had stung the enemy.

Funerary models carved of wood show scenes from everyday life. Placed in a pharaoh’s tomb, they assured that he would have all he desired, including food and drink, in the afterlife.

A gray granite statue of Tutankhamun depicted as Khonsu, a moon god whose name means Wanderer, son of Amun and Mut. The Boy King wears the sidelock braid of youth and is holding a crook, flail and djed pillar.

A 2nd millennium BCE funerary stele found at Abydos that may or may not depict a ruler named Sobekhotep and his wife.

This red granite statue depicts Ramesses II (left) and the creator god, Ptah (right). Ptah held a close relationship to the primeval god Tatenen, whose name means Risen Earth, referring to the primordial mound that emerged from the watery chaos at the beginning of the world. –Wally

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10 More Museums You Can Virtually Tour

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The Egyptian Museum
Tahrir Square Rd.
Cairo, Egypt

The Glorious Decay of Karnak Temple

The sprawling temple complex in Luxor is considered one of the greatest architectural feats of all time.

Areas like this on the massive temple grounds of Karnak evoked Ancient Rome for Wally

For much of the history of Ancient Egypt, Karnak was the epicenter of worship, situated in the great city of Thebes (modern-day Luxor). Over 3,000 years ago, 30 or so pharaohs each wanted to put his or her stamp upon the temple, adding structures and elements, on and on through the centuries. In less-prosperous times, like the reign of Ramesses VI, the pharaoh simply recarved the additions made by his predecessor, Ramesses IV, and claimed them as his own. And Horemheb replaced King Tut’s name with his own on several monuments at Karnak, in a bid to sever all ties with the heretical lineage of Akhenaton. 

The site sprawled, and today it is the largest surviving religious complex in the world.

“The great temple complex of Karnak was where Hatshepsut first started her genderbending iconography — all before she declared herself pharaoh.”

So much of Karnak as it is today began during the reign of that fascinating figure Hatshepsut, a female pharaoh who ruled during the 15th century BCE. Before her, Karnak was mostly mud brick but she embarked upon an ambitious construction program that included rebuilding Karnak with sandstone, making it more permanent and the basis of the massive complex we can still explore to this day. 

The scale of these massive columns is difficult to describe without experiencing it yourself

Wally loves exploring ancient temples so much, he just had to jump for joy

I’ve mentioned before that a large part of the charm of visiting Egypt is that each temple has something utterly unique about it, and for Karnak it’s the massive scale of the site. In addition, because its stones were plundered for other construction projects, much of the complex lies in a semi-ruined state, which evoked Ancient Rome to me. It’s fun to clamber past large fragments of stone as you explore the temple.

Rows of sphinxes welcome you to Karnak

A Tour of Karnak

We call the temple Karnak today, but that name came from a nearby village, el-Karnak. In ancient times it was known as Ipetisut, “the Most Select of Places.” The main part of the temple was dedicated to that great god, Amun (aka Amon, Amen), who was responsible for fertility and whom Egyptians trusted to keep their country prosperous.

Other, smaller, temples surrounded it, such as the one to Mut, the mother goddess and Amun’s consort.

Admission costs 150 Egyptian pounds, or less than $10, per person. You enter Karnak through an avenue of sphinxes bearing the heads of rams to honor Amun. Between each of their leonine paws, their chins resting on his head, stand small statues of Pharaoh Ramesses II, who commissioned the project.

Ram-headed, lion-bodied sphinxes protect diminutive statues of Ramesses II between their paws

Past these stone guardians, to the right, is a shrine to house the solar barque, used to transport the statue of the god during festivals. Built by Ramesses III, the exterior is lined with statues showing the pharaoh in mummy form with arms crossed to draw a connection with the god Osiris, ruler of the afterlife.

There’s much to explore at Karnak, so be sure to give yourself a couple of hours at least

The Great Hypostyle Hall

Pass under the Second Pylon to come to Karnak’s Great Hypostyle Hall, row upon rows of papyrus columns — 134, in fact. Unlike many other Ancient Egyptian temples, this colonnade is predominantly open-roofed. Blue sky can be seen above, and the sun blazes down upon you. Historians posit that this airy hall was the site of a ceremony called “uniting with the sun” and is supposed to resemble the primeval swamp, part of the creation myth.

The open-air nature of the Great Hypostyle Hall hints at the worship of Amun as a sun god

It’s near impossible to fully comprehend how gigantic some of these columns are, as you stand on the ground, gazing up. But the columns stand six stories high, and it’s said that some of the capitals, or tops, would fit 50 people!

An avenue of sphinxes once led all the way to Luxor Temple, two miles away — and there’s talk of restoring it

In ancient times, statues of deities would have been placed throughout this forest of columns. That’s one of the things that bummed me out most about these temples. As awesome as they are, most are devoid of statuary. I suppose they’ve been relocated to museums around the world — though I wish they had kept at least a few here and there. 

That being said, Karnak is one of the few sites in Egypt where you’ll see quite a few statues on the grounds, though most are of pharaohs not gods. 

You’ll spot quite a few statues as you wander Karnak

Pharaoh after pharaoh repurposed materials to rebuild portions of Karnak over the centuries

Reliefs cover the exterior of the hall, one showing Ramesses II’s Battle of Kadesh, which ended as a stalemate — though the pharaoh proclaimed victory. This was his favorite piece of revisionist history. He depicted his “triumph” at numerous temples, including Karnak, where he had a poem carved that told of his miraculous victory over the Hittites. His army was about to be defeated, but his father, the god Amun, made him invincible — and he single-handedly vanquished 2,500 of his enemies. 

Hatshepsut depicted herself as a pharaoh blessed by the gods on one of her obelisks, now on its side by the Sacred Lake

The great temple complex of Karnak was where Hatshepsut first started her genderbending iconography. A carving shows her wearing a masculine wig and the atef crown, which sported ram’s horns and two feathers — all before she declared herself pharaoh.

It’s truly astounding that the Ancient Egyptians found a way to carve obelisks from a single stone and raise them, where they remain standing, thousands of years later

Obelisks: The Sun Made Stone

Obelisks were the most impressive of architectural feats. Carved from a single block of red granite, the top halves of them were covered in electrum, silver-gold sheets beaten flat. There was no stronger tie to the solar cult than these tall, thin structures resembling the sun’s rays, and, indeed, the metal caught the light, blinding onlookers.

One of the obelisks Hatshepsut erected at the site honors her patron deity, Amun, whom she once served as his “wife.” The inscription reads, in part: “I know that Karnak is Heaven on Earth, the sacred elevation of the first occasion, the eye of the Lord to the Limit, his favorite place, which bears his perfection and gathers his followers.”

Love among the ruins, Wally and Karnak style

A couple of obelisks tower above visitors to this day, and I’m not ashamed to say I was a little freaked out standing beneath them, imagining how easily they could become off-balanced and come crashing down upon us. 

In fact, one obelisk does lie on its side, though it was probably done so purposefully. It’s on these remains, in front of the Sacred Lake, that you can see depictions of Hatshepsut as pharaoh. 

No swimming allowed! The Sacred Lake was where priests would cleanse themselves before rituals

The Sacred Lake

The lake supplied Karnak with water, in part for its priests to cleanse themselves for rituals. 

Nearby is a statue of a scarab (a word that sounds a whole lot cooler than “dung beetle”). Our guide Mamduh told us we should circle it three times for good luck, and a guy on Flickr complains: “Crazy tourists circumambulate — 3 times for luck, 7 times for love, and 10 times for wealth. Makes it hard to get a decent photo.”

Join the throng and walk in circles around the statue of Khepri, the scarab god, by the Sacred Lake. It’s said to be good luck

This is also where you’ll find a café, where we met up with our guide, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee. He tried to convince us that hot beverages are better for your body in extreme heat, but we ignored his advice and went for ice-cold waters and ice cream treats.

Hatshepsut and Thutmose III make offerings to Amun in the carvings inside the Red Chapel

Hatshepsut’s Red Chapel

Egyptologists gush about Hatshepsut’s Red Chapel, but I don’t get it. To me, it’s not all that impressive, especially compared to all the other marvels found throughout the country, from massive colonnades to towering statues. It’s just a rectangular-shaped building.

Inside this deep red quartzite chapel in the heart of Karnak, Hatshepsut depicted herself as a male ruler. In fact, her images are difficult to tell apart from those of her nephew and co-pharaoh, Thutmose III.

Much like Hatshepsut’s, King Tut’s reign was stricken from the official record

After Hatshepsut’s death and toward the end of his reign, Thutmose III began a campaign to obliterate his co-ruler’s legacy. At Karnak, he took apart her sacred Red Chapel, leaving its bricks in rubble piles nearby. And at the Eighth Pylon, Thutmose III reassigned two colossal statues of Hatshepsut as pharaoh to his father, Thutmose II. The idea was to connect himself with the traditional patriarchal lineage — and hopefully have everyone forget the unconventional time he shared Egypt’s throne with a woman.

In 1997, the French Institute undertook the challenge of rebuilding what they refer to as la Chapelle Rouge. Today you can visit the Red Chapel, and hopefully you won’t have the space crowded with tourists and a woman doing an Instagram photo shoot out the back.

Beyond the Red Chapel, at the back of Karnak, off to the left, you can wander through Thutmose III’s Festival Hall.

Off to the side of the complex is the Akh-Menou, or Thutomose III’s Festival Hall, featuring tentpole columns

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After exploring the rest of the complex, Duke and I wandered past the Sacred Lake, out to the Tenth Pylon. The gateway was closed off, but beyond was once an avenue of sphinxes that led to the Temple of Mut. The road took a turn and joined up with another avenue of sphinxes, this one leading all the way to Luxor Temple, two miles away. Everyone’s abuzz at the prospect of renovating and reopening that avenue — though it didn’t appear much progress had been made when we visited. –Wally

The temple grounds are a mishmash of architecture from many different pharaohs’ reigns

Much of Karnak lies in ruins

Hatshepsut built the Eighth Pylon, making it one of the oldest parts of the temple complex

Historic renderings of Karnak

Even if you don’t read French, this map can help you navigate the Karnak complex