Music Monday: Perelman, Morgan, and Turrentine

The last couple of weeks have been hectic, but afforded me a few good opportunities to listen. There’s nothing like long flights, restless jet lagged afternoons, and protracted editing sessions to free up time to listen to music.

I’ll generally listen to anything that William Parker and Matthew Shipp dream up and their most recent album, Synesthesia (2026), with Ivo Perelman on sax and Bobby Kapp on drums is a good one and a provocative follow up to their 2019 album Ineffable Joy. Perelman playing feels introspective here with probing tones set against Shipp’s gentle instigations and Parker’s and Kapp’s rhythmic encouragement. It’s the kind of music that makes you stop and listen. Check it out: 

This week was Lee Morgan’s birthday (July 10th, I think) and that inspired me to listen to some of his later albums. I was once again drawn to his final recording, The Last Sessions (1971) which like much of his later work, teased new directions that his untimely death would forestall. I’m particularly fond of Bill Harper on sax and wonder how his more adventurous tendencies would have inspired Morgan. The album opens with Harper’s “Capra Black,” which is a favorite of mine: 

https://music.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_nOdycS_tFSPEYY0OCvpaZiNQBiDYZsoAU&si=Zc4aSrdLY9zcxxkT

Finally, for some reason I decided to listen to Stanley Turrentine’s soul jazz classic Rough ’N’ Tumble (1966). If pressed, I’d say there’s nothing remarkable about this album, but Turrentine is great on it and Blue Mitchell (who is a favorite of mine) sounds like Blue Mitchell (especially when recorded by Rudy Van Gelder): 

As a postscript: you should all listen to Father Tabakis’s album Paradise Metal (2026) and check out this little story on it.

Three Things Thursday: Vibe Coding, Half-Frame, and Digital Archaeology

One of the simple pleasures of jet lag is getting a couple more hours of work time in the morning. This is both my best work time and when I’m least likely to get interrupted. As I noted yesterday, this is good timing because my to-do list after my summer research leave is pretty intimidating right now (and in the summers, I much prefer to go for a run or a ride in the afternoon even if I’m sleepy than trying to muscle through a couple more hours of work).

Of course, I could be using this free time to get a jump on my copy edits for the day, but instead, I’m writing a blog post and thinking about making coffee. It’s 3:30 am!

Thing the First

Over the last year or so, I’ve been working on an article on the history of North Dakota Quarterly for a short contribution to the Edinburgh Companion to the Regional Magazine. My piece will focus on the first 23 volumes of NDQ (from 1910/11-1933). You can get the drift of this work here.

Early on, I used Google Notebook LM to create an index of the 500+ articles in those volumes. Since these articles accounted for nearly 3 million words, it seemed like a good time to try to leverage LLM to help me do some remote reading. As I started to mess with the index, I noticed that there were gaps and inconsistencies. This wasn’t surprising. I realized that the robots were not entirely reliable, got bored, and were prone to hallucinations. As I worked with the index and the corpus, I corrected lots of little mistakes and made my index more reliable. 

This summer, I was introduced to the practice of “vibe coding” by buddy Richard Rothaus. He used Claude Code to create on the fly some very useful interfaces for our work. For example, convinced Claude to transcribe and organize information from the artifact inventory cards and embedded that in the photos of the artifacts. Then he created a cool little search tool that allowed us to search for artifacts based on not only their numbers, but also the transcribed summaries embedded in their metadata. In other words, we could search for “globular cooking pot” and it would find all the images of globular cooking pots for us. This was immensely useful as we worked to study the afterlife of the Roman bath.

This inspired me to use Claude to re-analyze the 23 NDQ volumes. I asked it to run rigorous “quality assurance” checks on the index of authors, titles, and volumes. It found about 20 some odd article that I missed and some other little mistakes (I had missed around 5% of the total number of articles). I also refined the categories that I developed with Google Notebook LM and collapsed nine of them into six.

The most ambitious project though was to create an interface that would allow me to use semantic search on the text of these 23 volumes locally on my Mac. I’ve developed a two-tier search that queries short (100-200 word) summaries of each article and then once it finds likely matches, queries the entire text of the articles and provides me with OCR text from the articles. There have been some hiccups, but we’re getting there.

If I can get this to work, the natural next step is to scale this to allow me to do this for ALL the NDQ volumes.   

Thing the Second

Much to the chagrin of my colleagues this summer, Richard Rothaus and I chatted about photography. As readers of this blog know, my dad was an avid photographer and over the last three or four years, I’ve started to take more and more photos (and think and write about photography more frequently). 

I’ve so far avoided doing much with film and stuck mainly to digital photography (this parallels my lack of interest in vinyl for my stereo). This summer, I decided that I wanted to dip my toe in the film waters and purchased a refurbished Olympus PEN EE-2 half-frame camera from the 1970s. It is a very cool little mechanical camera that uses a selenium solar cell to switch the camera between two shutter settings: 1/40 or 1/200. You set the aperture based on ISO.

It’s half frame so it takes twice as many photos for each role of 35 mm film. The photos are vertical like a phone photo so there is a degree of familiarity for someone like who has returned to taking photos only after phone-based pocket cameras have become the norm. I am pretty excited to play with this some alongside my dad’s Nikon DSLR and my usual swarm of digital cameras. I’ll do all I can to avoid turning this into “Bill’s Self-Indulgent Mediocre Photography Blog.”

Thing the Third

I’ve accepted an invitation to the Center of Hellenic Studies to give a paper at a conference on digital archaeology in September. The organizers (and more on this as it develops) suggested that I do something on “Slow Archaeology” or “Punk Archaeology.” As the age of AI appears — at least momentarily — upon us, it seems worth revisiting these arguments. More than that, my recent book and my paper with David Pettegrew in the JFA a year ago, have nudged along my thinking on these topics. I have a slight idea that the notion of fragmentation might be relevant on a conceptual or even theoretical level (especially in light of Byung-Chul Han) and some of my thinking about conviviality in practice (through Ivan Illich).

Right now, I have a couple of months to come up with an idea, but I need to come up with a title over the weekend… stay tuned. 

Writing Wednesday: Eating the Wolf One Bite at a Time

After a day of getting my feet on the ground from almost two months of summer research leave, I am confronting the fact that the rest of the world didn’t stop when I was away. I have a to-do list and it’s terrifying.

I’m trying to apply the old saying: shoot the wolf closest to the sled and eat the elephant one bite at a time. 

I have three things to get sorted this August.

First, I need work through the copy edits on my most recent book length manuscript. As readers of this blog know, I’m not necessarily a careful writer. I leave words out (I try to think that these are simply sub-vocalized texts), lose track of syntax during revision, and simply forget what it was that I was trying to say. This means that even my best versions of a manuscript are … pretty raw. Fortunately, most of the revisions tend to be easy for an experienced copy editor and I don’t think this will take long.

Second, this summer, the last bits of the second volume dedicated to our work at Pyla-Koutsopetria finally arrived. All that needs to happen now is that I put the volume together. Because this project has quite a few “stake holders,” we need to circulate the manuscript to the current excavators of the site, the former excavators of the site, and at least one of the book’s editors who has stepped back from the project (for peace of mind, if nothing else). The plan is to get it out to the press for peer review by the end of the summer.

Third, I promised to write a book review of Anna Magdalena Blomley, A landscape of conflict? Rural fortifications in the Argolid (400–146 BC). It’s a good, but so far relatively boring book to read. This isn’t the fault of the author, but rather my own attenuated attention span and the press’s decision to use columns (which I find simply inexcusable in the 21st century [even as I’m on the eve of publishing my second book with a press that insists on using columns]). In any event, this has to happen in the next week or two no matter how annoyed I am about format. 

So, the open vistas of research time is officially over, and professional time has begun with the tick-tick-ticking of the real world chasing me for the rest of the summer… I’ll eat the wolves one bite at time.

Travel Tuesday

I’m en route back to Grand Forks (aka Grand Borks) and have a few thoughts about travel this year.

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First, travel is karmic. My flight home from Cyprus last year was an epic clusterfuck which involved two overnights and late flights. This year, I managed to change my itinerary at the last minute to a better itinerary (and to avoid a 75 minute layover in the Athens which would make it impossible to make a connecting flight), flights were all one time, seats were great, and while I still hate travel, it was not bad.

Second, one my flight from Athens to Cyprus in the spring, we were joined by a group of Special Olympic athletes who had just represented Cyprus at some competition. They were incredibly joyful. I’m not prone to respond to joy as an emotion (except among dogs), but this group made the last leg of a long trip from Grand Forks to Cyprus into something that I’ll remember for a long time. On my flight from Cyprus to Athens on the first leg of my flight home, we were joined by 70 Cypriot high school students and some number of chaperons and teachers. These students were excited, and they were teenagers. But, more notably, they were well behaved, the adults with them managed them effectively, and aside from a certain amount of “standing around in inconvenient places,” they were great. I was impressed. 

Three, a colleague of mine this summer told me that he “rawdogged” a 3 hour graduation ceremony; that means, no kindle, no podcast or music, no snacks, no sudoku, just sitting there. (There is something profoundly inefficient about this, but I suppose that can be said about all ceremonies). That prompted me to become fascinated by folks who rawdog long international flights. It’s pretty common for me not to watch a movie on a long flight and sometimes to not listen to music. A few times, I’ve never taken my seat back entertainment screen off the welcome, but this is rare and I usually spend long flights reading and try to sleep (unsuccessfully). I never work on flights. That’s the tax that I charge for making me travel. The idea of rawdogging a long flight or a graduation ceremony and the competitive culture that has emerged around it is fascinating. It’s not enough to digital detox or foster one’s inner life, but we have to make it a game!

Fourth, I’ve been thinking about how dreadful the experience of travel is these days. On the one hand, a good bit of what makes travel dreadful is fueled by a certain amount of xenophobia which has fostered bombastic displays of security theater (rivaling something imagined in a Murakami novel). There is alignment between those who are terrified of others and “security” and those who don’t trust the government. As a result, airport security and passport control always feels understaffed and lines are long confirming the inability of the “government” to perform efficiently. To make matters worse, travel demonstrated the failure of capitalism to provide genuinely humane experiences: fares are expensive, and flights are uncomfortable, tedious, and gross. Between paranoia and capitalism, travel is dehumanizing. This should be enough to discourage people from traveling.

Ideally, this aligns with the left’s periodic efforts to promote greener, more environmental conscious lifestyles. One could imagine a day when air travel becomes so unpleasant, so expensive, and so time consuming, the average person just gives us and stays home. Maybe they plant a garden instead of traveling, maybe the lean into the idea of a “staycation,” maybe they pick up a restorative hobby, do things to make their community better, or read a book rather than board a flights. (To be honest, I don’t know what normal people do and why a normal person would travel outside of economic or social necessity [e.g. family, medical care, risk of violence, and so on]). It seems like there is a chance for these two groups to sync up and to valorize staying at home in ways that achieve both of their goals.

Finally, I’m tired and almost home…. 

Photo Friday: Last Photos from Greece

It’s my last photo Friday from the Mediterranean and most of the photos are from a quick trip to the Argive Heraion, Nafplio, and the pyramid at Elleniko. 

It’s impossible not to take a cool landscape photo from the Argive Heraion. 

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Most of my shots at Nafplio were slightly out of focus for some user-related reason, but even an out of focus squirrel occasionally finds a nut.

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The pyramid at Elleniko is also endlessly photogenic.

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End of the Season Work

There’s this perennial issue with archaeology (at least how I practice it): writing mostly happens toward the end of a field or study season and this is exactly when my energy and motivation is lowest. As a result, writing final reports tends to be a slog not because I don’t enjoy writing about archaeology, but because they come at the very time when my energy levels are low and I’m starting to look forward to going home.

Compounding this more is that I use writing as both a way to think through problems (and build testable hypotheses) and as a way to produce arguments. This means that I have to write to think through a problem properly as well as to produce an argument. (As an aside, I’ve always admired scholars who can produce an argument and hold it in their head rather than have to work it out on the page.) The problem with this is that as I work out the argument, I often diagnose problems with it or come to recognize that I need additional evidence to make it effective. By the end of the season, the opportunities to gather additional evidence meet the realities of diminishing time and energy! I’m sure a similar situation confronts my colleagues who work in archives.

Over the next four days, I’m frantically writing, collating images, creating lists of things to do both when I get home and next season. My delusional goal is to come home with two papers in various states of readiness: one on the kiln (and surrounding areas) at Polis in Cyprus and one on the Early Medieval settlement at Isthmia. The latter is in much more provisional shape than the former (and also involves more moving parts as it is part of a larger project). 

My to-do list this week:

1. Process images for the kiln article by removing their background and making sure that they are publishable quality.

2. Prepare the final data version for the context pottery data collected over the course of the Isthmia study season.

3. Write a description of the stratigraphy and context for material in Room X of the Roman bath.

4. Work with Scott Moore, our ceramics expert, to complete drafts of the catalogue of Early Medieval handmade and slow wheel made cooking pots from Isthmia and Roman fine and cooking ware from Polis.

5. Pack and do a bit of shopping while trying to enjoy my last days in the Mediterranean.

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Writing Wednesday: Rooms VIII and VII in the Roman Bath at Isthmia

I spent the last couple of days traveling from Greece to Cyprus and getting settled back into a slightly different routine for the final week of my summer research leave. This week is truly Janis-faced with part of our energy going to taking the final photographs for the our work here at Polis and part of it writing up a report on the work we just completed at Isthmia. 

Among the various goals that we had at Isthmia, one was to sort out the stratigraphy and depositional history of Rooms VIII and VII in the Roman bath. These are important in part because Room VIII has “the e-shaped feature” building into its west wall which we have associated loosely with the Early Medieval activity at the site. Room VIII also saw a late renovation which involved the installation of a clay floor prior to the robbing out of its east and south walls. After the walls were robbed out, an apsidal building, also associated with the Early Medieval settlement, was built across the robbing trench. In other words, this part of the Roman bath has connections to the Early Medieval settlement and the final phases of activity at the bath, and its final renovation.

This is what the text looks like for this kind of writing:

Room VII and VIII

Room VII and VIII were excavated in 1976 and 1977 with 1977 being the more careful campaign. In 1976, MCO excavated two trenches through Room VII from north (Room VI) to south. These trenches were excavated as three baskets. One 76-MCO-035 cut through the destruction debris in trenches 76-13,14, and 15; 76-MCO-036 removed material atop the mosaic floor in Room VII and combined it with material in Room XII and further south with Trench 76-13 being in Room VII and 76-14 in Room VII; and 76-MCO-037 took material immediately above the floor in Trench 72-15 which captures the southeastern corner of Room VII. The latest material from 76-MCO-036, which was presumably the lowest level of destruction debris and from the floor of Room VII included a Late Roman cook pot (76-MMO-036.10) of 7th century date (Hammond #364). The destruction and collapse debris included a significant quantity of later material including Slavic ware, Group N bases, and micaceous cooking pots.

In 1977, Tr 77-8 produced similar assemblages with Early Medieval material appearing on the surface and in destruction layers (77-SET-045 and 77-SET-046 respectively). It is suggestive that 77-SET-046 which was amid the destruction debris did not produce any material later than the Early Medieval period. The levels closer to the mosaic floor (77-SET-43, 77-SET-44, 77-SET-47, 77-SET-48), however, produce a generic Late Roman assemblage with relatively little diagnostic material that would allow us to date the floor level more narrowly than 4th-7th century. In light of this assemblage, there is reason to suspect that some of the latest material excavated from the floor in 1976 reflects under-excavated destruction debris rather than material resting on the mosaic floor prior to the collapse of the walls. Nevertheless, this material comes from throughout and the lowest levels of collapse indicates that it was not thrown in after the building had fallen down, but rather during the process of collapse.

Room VIII

Room VIII was excavated in 1977 in a series of east-west trenches (77-1, 77-5, and 77-8; check this!) the surface and destruction collapse included significant quantities of handmade and slow wheel made wares. The northern part of Room VIII was excavated in 1977 as trench 77-1. The quantity of wall collapse and the size of wall fragments found in the upper levels of this trench revealchunks of mortar with preserved wall plaster. It is worth noting that most of the material found in these upper destruction levels dates to the Roman, Late Roman, and Early Medieval periods. In this way, it appears consistent with the destruction debris in Room VII and in Room IX.

The latest material in the destruction debris in this area 77-CSS-011 includes rather undiagnostic Late Roman material and this seems to continue to the clay floor with the material excavated above the floor recorded as 77-CSS-015, 77-CSS-016, 77-CSS-017, and 77-CSS-018. These basket consists largely of Late Roman material: spirally grooved and wheel ridges body sherds (as well as micaceous water jar fragments). There are kitchen and coarse ware rims including the Aegean Cooking Pot fabric (Hammond no. 302; 5th century) in 77-CSS-015, 77-CSS-017, and 77-CSS-018. This deposit appears to continue through the robbing trench on the eastern side of the trench (that is between Room VIII and VII). This means that 77-CSS-021 (which must equal 77-CSS-022 and 77-CSS-023) was probably deposited at the same time as the rest of the floor deposit. This is significant because it indicates that the floor and the trench opened after the robbing of the east wall were exposed to the same depositional processes. This suggests that someone removed the roof of the building systematically and then robbed out the east wall. The destruction debris then in this trench must have come from the collapse of the western wall of the room.

Tr 77-5 is to the south of Tr 77-1.The destruction debris that extended from the surface (77-CSS-029) appears to end on a lens of black earth, which the excavator removed as a separate basket (77-CSS-31). It yielded very little pottery. Beneath that was another level of collapse (77-CSS-30 and 32) which produced parts of the room’s Early Medieval and Slavic assemblage. There are then another series of debris levels (Level 3: 77-CSS-33 and -35; Level 4: 77-CSS-34; Level 5: 77-CSS-35 and -38, -39 [no finds]; Level 6: 77-CSS-37). Destruction Level 7 (77-CSS-41, -45, -46, -47, -51 [this is under fragments of the wall and basket 45]) is very close to the floor and characterized by a sandy soil (77-CSS-40 seems similar and at a similar elevation) and the floor is reached at 77-CSS-42. Destruction Level 8 seems to be the same as the “floor fill” (77-CSS-49). The floor deposit from 77-CSS-042, reached under level 48 as 77-CSS-49 and from under basket 46 as 77-CSS-50 appear more or less contemporary with the floor levels in Tr 77-1 which is to say a generic Late Roman date. 77-CSS-042 produced a flu tile presumably from the wall of Room IX.

This trench also featured a series of test trenches designed to establish the date of the clay floor. The most productive of these, 77-CSS-024, largely produced small fragments of pottery that suggest a broadly “Late Antique date” (2nd-4th) for the repavement of Room VIII. Two of the fragments appear to come from pitchers (IPR 77-011 and 77-012) which may date as late as the 5th or 6th century based on very loose comparisons to the vessel IPR 70-082 (which, in turn, is comparable to the Agora V, L26 via Sanders 2026). The fragments of these vessels, however, are too small to make a completely convincing comparison.

Another trench to the south of 77-5 was then opened, 77-8. Much like trenches 77-5 and 77-1, this trench features a series of levels of destruction. The first subsurface basket is 77-CSS-66 much like the destruction level baskets from 77-5, this produced both Early Medieval kitchen wares and Slavic ware and seemingly parallels the kinds of material coming from similar levels of destruction debris in 77-5. Levels CSS-067, -069, -071, -072 are more layers of destruction debris. The red, sandy fill comes out at 77-CSS-070, -075 and -076 (which might be an under excavated basket which includes -075). The eastern part of 77-8 extends to into Room VII and shows that the red earth fill near the surface of Room VIII continues into Room VII. This suggests that both Room VIII and Room VII lost their roofs (and the wall between them) before their west and east walls (respectively) collapsed inward. In trench 77-8, two contexts (-086 and -091) runs through the foundation trench of east wall of Room VIII and sits atop a level of black fill (-085). This black fill may be related to the collapse of a wood roof. The floor levels in this trench are 77-CSS-088 and 77-CSS-101. They appear to have produced largely Late Roman material although there is some sign that CSS-088 might be contaminated.

There are several conclusions that proceed from this reconstruction of the later history of Rooms VIII and VII.
 

1.     Room VIII was apparently damaged at some point and the floor was replaced with a clay floor. It is appealing to imagine that the clay floor replaced a mosaic one which was perhaps damaged by the collapse of the vaulted roof. Alternatively, there may have been a decision to renovate the floor of this room, as there were late bath renovations, including (does the date work?) modifications to heat Room III.  Excavation below the clay floor suggest that it was installed sometime in the 2nd-4th century (based on the presence of micaceous water jars and middle- to later- Roman pitchers in the fill beneath the clay floor), but this material could be part of an earlier fill dating to the previous floor. It is critical to note is that the clay floor of VIII has been carefully joined to the floor of Room VI, including the placement of tesserae on the threshold of the door to Room VI, indicating this floor was placed for a functional bath (Gregory 1993, 290-291).

2.    The amphora deposit in Room IX appears to date to the 5th century (at earliest) indicating that the floor of Room VIII was open at this point allowing access to the amphoras placed amid the hypocaust of Room IX.

3.    At some point the east and south wall and the roof of Room VIII were removed. This was after the installation of the clay floor and the amphora deposit in Room IX. Part of the building continued to stand, however, and the robbing trench and the floor of Room VII and Room VIII was covered with a layer of red earth.

4.     The “E-Shaped Feature” stands against the west wall of Room VIII in the red earth fill. This dates this to after the robbing of the east wall of the room because the red earth fill runs through the robbing trench. It indicates that the west wall of Room VIII continues to stand even as the red earth is deposited in the trench. 

5.     The apsidal structure south of Room VIII runs atop the robbing trench of the south wall of the room, but appears more or less at the same level as the floor of Room VIII and the e-shaped structure and the line of tiles.

6.     The west wall of the Room VIII collapses covering the E-Shaped Feature and the apsidal structure with successive lenses of debris. This collapse is one of our best indicators of the abandonment collapse of the bath. While there was some 5th century (?) roof and wall collapse in the eastern rooms, this was a result of the deliberate robbing of walls.  The abandonment collapse of the bath does not come until after the early Byzantine settlement.  The area of the E-shaped features and apsidal structure are thus one of the best preserved abandonment deposits in the bath.

Photo Friday: Corinthia

Today is the last day of work at Isthmia for this season, and I went out to get some photos of the Roman Bath that we’ve been studying. These aren’t the sexiest photos, but they give you a sense of the building that we’re studying and the landscape.

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I took some flower photos this week too.

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A Quick Thursday Post: Photos of a Fountain

My colleague Richard Rothaus and I have been including the Hadji Mustafa fountain on our afternoon walks around the village of Corinth. In fact, we visit it so often that we’ve become friendly with the local working dogs (but not too friendly) who protect a flock of sheep nearby.

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I’ve been working on getting a good photo of the fountain with uneven success (usually because I do things like forget to change my camera’s ISO settings or insist on shooting wide open or some insanity).

I’ve tried to shoot it with my little Sigma with varied, largely unsatisfying results:

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I’ve gotten close with my big Sony:

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Mostly, though Richard and I talk about the days when the Isthmia dig van stopped at the fountain to fill up water tanks and when we’d stop on the way into the field to fill up our water bottles. 

We also talk about Pierre MacKay’s little article on the fountain that appeared in the Hesperia in 1967. I have my students read it in Greek history class because it is a lovely little article on a pretty fountain that doesn’t try to do any more than is necessary. It’s only four pages and it’s worth a read.