(Q).
Normal practice when handling ancient artifacts is to move carefully and minimize any sudden movements. Shaking the object is definitely not encouraged. But that’s exactly what we—a group of museum curators and conservators—did when this exquisite Greek black-glazed kantharos (wine cup) was temporarily removed from display during the reinstallation of the Getty Museum’s antiquities collection at the Getty Villa. One of just a handful of “rattling cups” that survive from the fifth and fourth centuries B.C., we wanted to learn more about how it was made.(1) Although we were eager to find out what was below the surface of the cup, we started by examining its exterior. The kantharos’s distinctive shape, with profiled lip, tall foot, and elegant, upward-sweeping handles, is characteristic of black-glazed pottery made in the second half of the fourth century B.C., and replicates the form of luxury vessels in metal. Although the cup is currently catalogued as South Italian, the shape—and its striking decoration—are also typical of Athenian manufacture, and it may in fact have been produced there.(2) During the fourth century B.C., Athenian pottery was both imported into southern Italy and imitated by local craftsmen. The best South Italian versions were meant to be difficult to distinguish from Athenian examples, and we are continuing to investigate where ours may have been made. A Greek inscription applied in gilt around the rim reads: ΚΑΣΤΟΡΠΟΛΥΔΕΥΙΚΕΣ (“KASTORPOLYDEUIKES”). Kastor and Polydeukes were twin sons of Zeus—known together as the Dioskouroi—and were worshipped as protectors of sailors, horsemen, and chariot racing.(3) The inscription indicates that the kantharos was dedicated to them, perhaps as thanks for—or in hope of—safe passage at sea or a successful race. The gold decoration supports this idea: because each brother split his time between Mt. Olympus and Hades, they were often represented by stars, depicted here beneath the cup’s rim. Further, the wreath, garlands, and bucrania (skulls of... The ancient wine cup is probably made of: - clay - not enough information - metal - gold
(A).
clay


(Q).
Yes, it's actually happened to me before. Let me explain before I get called irresponsible, or incapable of having a dog, or incompetent, My dog is my baby, since the day I got her we've been inseparable. I learned from this mistake and have taken every precaution to prevent it from happening again. She was uninjured luckily, but I was freaking traumatized. I have a SUUUUPPPPEEEERRR long driveway, so I usually drive my truck to the end to check my mail, and on this particular day, I was out in my yard playing with Roxie, I saw the mailman drive by through my fence, and so we walked back to the house, I grabbed my keys, and off we went. This wasn't too long ago, maybe May, so it's hot, typical North Carolina weather, maybe 92 and some change, so my windows are down, because I drive a 13 year old black truck, so it's hot as hell, and it makes it hard to breathe. The AC works, it just takes time to kick in, and number 5 (my highest AC setting) does not work. As I'm driving down, I'm going maybe 5 miles an hour. I'm petting Roxie with my right hand when I feel her jerk out of my reach and I hear a bush rustle, I look to the passenger side, slam on brakes (because the last thing I want is to hurt my baby) and put the truck in park. Sure enough, my mom and her Chihuahua were out in the front yard, and Roxie, being her playful self jumped out and ran. She scared the absolute shit out of me, so now when I drive with her in the car, the window stays shut or cracked. Lesson learned. What was the temperature that day? - it as around 92 degrees - it was raining - not enough information - it was about 70 degrees
(A).
it as around 92 degrees


(Q).
One of the more surprising objects in the Getty Villa’s newly reinstalled gallery of later Roman sculpture is a marble bust of a youth leaning out of a circular frame, mounted high on the gallery wall. J. Paul Getty originally acquired this particular sculpture in 1973, but it has been off view for many years. The recent reinstallation of the Getty Museum’s antiquities collection at the Villa provided the opportunity to resurrect many such objects from storage and put them on display. Bringing this strange object back to the public eye enabled us to ask—and answer—several questions about it. Who—if anyone—does it represent? When was it carved? Where was it made, and how did it end up in Los Angeles? In preparation for its display, we researched and reinterpreted the object, exploring both its ancient function and modern history. In its new display, this object is fittingly surrounded by other examples of late Roman sculpture from the third and fourth centuries. Its inclusion in this gallery was not always a given, however, as the figure was long misidentified as a portrait of young Caracalla, who at ten years old became joint emperor with his father in A.D. 198.(1) But recent scholarship questioned the Caracalla identification and the object’s date, suggesting it was carved at least a hundred years later.(2) In light of this research, curator Jens Daehner pushed to reexamine the sculpture and consider including it in the reinstallation. In early 2015, the Antiquities Department brought this tondo and many other potential objects for the new galleries out of storage for viewing, providing curators, conservators, mount makers, preps, and registrars a chance to approve and prepare artworks for possible display. After the storage viewing and subsequent research, we updated the object record to conform with what scholars had suggested: this is not a second-century portrait of Caracalla but a fourth-century bust of a youth or divinity. To answer our next question of who the tondo represents, we then had to take a... Where was the marble portrait first displayed? - In second-century Rome - With second-century Roman artwork - In A.D. 198 - not enough information
(A).

With second-century Roman artwork