Category: Roman

I was standing in a dusty courtyard in Syracuse last summer, squinting at a limestone threshold where a Roman paving stone met a much later medieval repair, when it hit me how much we misunderstand the concept of order. Most…

Last summer, while I was tucked into a corner of a crumbling villa near Syracuse, I found myself tracing the faint, weathered grooves in a limestone slab. Most people walk past these sites looking for grand columns or marble gods,…

I was kneeling in the damp dust of a villa near Ostia last Tuesday, my knees aching in that familiar way, when I realized I had spent twenty minutes photographing nothing but a single, misplaced corner of a tuff block….

I was kneeling in the damp dust of a basement in Ravenna last autumn, my flashlight beam cutting through decades of grime, when I found it—a faint, rhythmic indentation in a single, sun-baked course of masonry. Most people walk past…

I was kneeling in the dust of a site near Ostia last Tuesday, my knees aching against the uneven ground, when I saw it: a single, jagged fracture in a stretch of ancient opus caementicium. Most people walk past these…

I was crouched in a narrow service corridor near the ancient waterfront, the smell of damp tuff and centuries-old dust thick in my throat, when I saw it: a modern patch of cement aggressively forced into a gap where Roman…

I was kneeling in the dust of a small thermopolium last summer, my fingers tracing the edge of a chipped marble counter, when I realized how much we get wrong about these ruins. Most tourists walk through the gates looking…

I was kneeling in the dust of a site near Ostia last summer, my knees aching against the grit, when I saw it: a section of wall where the Roman brickwork transitioned into a crude, hurried patch of lime mortar….

I was kneeling in the dirt outside a site near Pompeii last autumn, my knees aching from the damp, when I realized how much we get wrong about the past. Most guidebooks treat roman housing and the domus as if…

I was kneeling in the damp dust of a villa outside Pompeii last autumn, my flashlight catching the jagged edge of a broken pilae stack, when it hit me how much we get wrong about ancient comfort. Most textbooks treat…