Showing posts with label Nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nature. Show all posts

Ancient Greek Technology and the Antikythera Mechanism








































I just stumbled across this New Yorker article from 2007. The discovery and X-ray scanning of the Antikythera Mechanism highlights the French sociologist Jacques Ellul's argument that our modern relationship with technology is fundamentally different from how man has encountered technology in the past--that the ancient Greeks possessed a much more developed technological capacity then we are aware and simultaneously understood a critical danger in its application and exerted self-mastery to limit its control over their lives and society. If this is the case, then perhaps it is no accident that we have almost no knowledge of the Greek's seemingly sophisticated level of technological development. Likewise, it is a call for us to consider how we harness our technology, or to what extent our technology has totally enslaved us.

From the New Yorker article:

"The Greeks are thought to have possessed crude wooden gears, which were used to lift heavy building materials, haul up water, and hoist anchors, but historians do not generally credit them with possessing scientifically precise gears—gears cut from metal and arranged into complex “gear trains” capable of carrying motion from one driveshaft to another. Paul Keyser, a software developer at I.B.M. and the author of “Greek Science of the Hellenistic Era,” told me recently, “Those scholars who study the history of science tend to focus on science beginning with Copernicus and Galileo and Harvey, and often go so far as to assert that no such thing existed before.” It’s almost as if we wished to reserve advanced technological accomplishment exclusively for ourselves. Our civilization, while too late to make the fundamental discoveries that the Greeks made in the sciences—Euclidean geometry, trigonometry, and the law of the lever, to name a few—has excelled at using those discoveries to make machines. These are the product and proof of our unique genius, and we’re reluctant to share our glory with previous civilizations...

...But, if the Greeks did have greater technological sophistication than we think they did, why didn’t they apply it to making more useful things—time- and work-saving machines, for example—instead of elaborate singing automatons? Or is what we consider important about technology—which is, above all, that it is useful—different from what the Greeks considered worthwhile: amusement, enlightenment, delight for its own sake? According to one theory, the Greeks, because they owned slaves, had little incentive to invent labor-saving devices—indeed, they may have found the idea distasteful. Archimedes’ claws notwithstanding, there was, as Keyser notes, cultural resistance to making high-tech war machines, because “both the Greeks and the Romans valued individual bravery in war.” In any case, in the absence of any obvious practical application for Greek technology, it is easy to believe that it never existed at all.

From Jacques Ellul's book, The Technological Society:

"The Greeks, however, were the first to have a coherent scientific activity and to liberate scientific thought. But then a phenomenon occurred which still astonishes historians: the almost total separation of science and technique. Doubtless, this separation was less absolute than the example of Archimedes has led historians to believe. But it is certain that material needs were treated with contempt, that technical research was considered unworthy of the intellect, and that the goal of science was not application but contemplation. Plato shunned any compromise with application, even in order to forward scientific research. For him, only the most abstract possible exercise of reason was important. Archimedes went even further. True, he rationalized practice and even made 'applications' to a certain degree; but his machine was to be destroyed after it had demonstrated the exactness of his numerical reckonings.

"In their golden age of science, the Greeks could have deduced the technical consequences of their scientific activity. But they did not wish too. Walter asks: "Did the Greeks, obsessed with harmony, check themselves at the very point at which inquiry ran the risk of going to excess and threatened to introduce a monstrosity into their civilization?

"This was the result if a variety of factors, most of which were of a philosophic nature. For on thing, theirs was a conception of life which scorned material needs and the improvement of practical life, discredited manual labor (because of the practice of slavery), held contemplation to be the goal of intellectual activity because it represented an aspect of brute force and implied a want of moderation. Man, however humble his technical equipment, has from the very beginning played the role of sorcerer's apprentice in relation to the machine. This feeling on the part of the Greeks was not a reflection of a primitive man's fear in the face of something he does not understand (the explanation given today when certain persons take fright at our techniques). Rather, it was the result, perfectly mastered and perfectly measured, of a certain conception of life. It represented an apex of civilization and intelligence.

"Here we find the supreme Greek virtue, ἐγκράτεια (self control). The rejection of technique was a deliberate, positive activity involving self-mastery, recognition of destiny, and the application of a given conception of life. Only the most modest techniques were permitted--those which would respond directly to material needs in such a way that these needs did not get the upper hand."

A reconstruction of the Antikythera mechanism by Michael Wright:


A Halcyon Morning


The pasture across from our house in a blanket of mist this morning. These mornings are starting to get a bit chilly, even if the days are still hot.

Reading the Intelligible City


Come by @blankspacegoshen this evening for a series of presentations by local designers. Oddly, I won't be talking about motorcycles! The event is free and starts at 5:00. #design #urbanism #morphology #blankspace #goshenindiana

Letter to Malcolm: Chiefly on Krier

Dear Malcolm,

All traditional architecture is not necessarily classical. The classic is the very best of a tradition. Jefferson's capitol would be an example of a classical building because it not only hearkens back to former classical buildings, but has itself become a classic. It is so because in it Jefferson took a previous example, namely the ancient Maison Carrée at Nîmes, and made it thoroughly modern for the new seat of provincial government in Virginia. In this example lies part of the answer to your question about the practical uses for classical architecture in the modern world.

Classicism is not un-modern. One of my professors in fact describes classicism as the "other modern." Modernism, the ideology that has held architecture around the world in a death grip since the 1920's, was based in the denial of all previous models and sought to replace them with the paradigm of the machine. The "international style" is a good example of such a mentality based in the desire for a new, unsullied architecture, fitting form to function. All but a few anachronistic modernists have long since left the machine slogan behind, however its influence can still be seen in even the tamest new construction.

Traditional architecture, on the other hand seeks to work with and continue local traditions, to render the urban order of the city more intelligible, and to tell the user and passer-by about itself through its form. Part of this process involves the adaptation of the way things have been done in the past to suit current needs. In other words, it does what buildings have always done until roughly eighty years ago. In opposition to many modernist buildings which are often either completely inexplicable to anyone but their designer, or hideous blights on the land, (or more often both) the traditional building seeks to be a good neighbor. Being a good neighbor entails a willingness to have a dialogue with one's surroundings, not to be offensive, to understand one's place in the order of the city, and most importantly to contribute to the public good. This means that in a Western city such as Richmond, the provincial capitol will be the most important building, traditionally ornamented with a fully expressed order, etc., all at an appropriate scale. Lesser buildings take their cue from this and are ornamented in a way that tells the story of the city. Classical buildings like the State Capitol are the best of these good neighbors.  

So, perhaps another question might be "what are the practical uses of an architecture that refuses to look to the past and continues to build indefensible, un-neighborly buildings? Of course I have made this seem very cut-and-dry. There are many current architects who seek to use the modernist language in a communal, legible way, with varying success. I would argue, however, that such efforts are inherently futile.

I am not sure what exactly you mean by the resources and processes originally used, but your question does raise an interesting question: how do we recover the skills and traditions of a building craft ignored for the last half century? One of the main difficulties with such an undertaking is the difficulty of mastering many of the required skills of the traditional architect and builder. Many of these traditions have been protected or rediscovered in the preservation field. There are several institutions around the world, my school among them, which seek to continue and spread the skills and traditions of the last 2700 years.

If you would like to know more about traditional and classical architecture and urbanism I would recommend the book, Architecture: Choice of Fate, by Leon Krier. It is a great place to start understanding classicism in a modernist world.

Please let me know if you have any other questions.

Best,
Clipstock

The Villa Lante in Fall


 Looking down from the Silver Age to the Golden Age of human Invention
 The famous Water Chain

 The table of water in the Silver Age
 The back door of the right pavilion


Looking down the Via Barozzi to the old borgo of Bagnaia

North Manitou Island

The Manitou Islands lie about eight miles off the coast of the Lelenau peninsula of Michigan. Both islands were used for timber and small-scale farming. The North Island housed a U.S. Coast Guard Station which is still standing and the South Island provided the best sheltered harbor between Chicago and Machinac. During the late nineteenth century both islands were used as refueling points for steamers. Small communities formed around the lumber camps and docks, but the majority of the island's residents seem to have been homesteaders with anywhere from two to twenty acre farms in secluded areas of the islands. During the 1880's a small resort association of Chicago businessmen grew on the western coast of the North Island where about ten of the cottages can still be seen in ruins. Today both islands are part of the Sleeping Bear Dunes State Park and are designates as wilderness areas. 

While the South Island can be a day trip and provides tours of its lighthouse, beautiful dunes and several campgrounds, the North Island is completely wild except for about twelve acres surrounding the Ranger Station and dock. As soon as you have reached the wilderness area you can camp just about anywhere that is more than 300 ft from the water.  

Historic Fishtown in Leland, where the ferry to the Manitou Islands departs.
Traditional fishermen inspect the engine of the Joy, one of Fishtown's two working Michigan "fish tugs." 
Looking astern in the Manitou Isle, the ancient ferry that serves the North Island.

The Ranger Station, Caretaker's cottage and Boathouse from the dock. 
We camped on the northern end of the island near the John Maleski farm.


The stars were fantastic on the clear nights, the Milky Way shining through the walls of the tent. We had front row seats for the Perseid meteor shower which was occurring for several of our nights on the island.
Lunch
Blackberries at the Paul Maleski Farm

This Painted Turtle was here for the berries as well. 
Dinner on the third night was exceptional: orzo with dried zucchini, carrots, tomatoes, parmesiano and olive oil. 
A massive ant nest.
Our Bivouac.


Some of the local flora.

Lake Manitou is a surprisingly large lake in the very center of the island. 
On our fourth day on the island I took my fishing rod on the two-mile ordeal through mosquito infested forest and swamp leading to Lake Manitou. I had hiked over to the lake two days earlier and talked to a fisherman who said he had been catching 20-30 18+ inch smallmouth. Looking at the map I had imagined Lake Manitou would be more of a small pond surrounded by swamp, when in fact, the lake is quite large. The bottom runs out shallow a good forty to fifty feet and then abruptly drops off. My fly rod and floating line proved itself incapable of reaching the trophy bass which apparently wait in the cool about thirty feet down. 
One of the few people I saw on the island.

The water is unbelievably clear.
A freshwater muscle in the soft silt that surrounds the lake.
All that remains of one of the biggest farms on the island.
Walking down from Swenson's farm to the Ranger Station.
The beautiful shingle barn now used by the Ranger Station. 
An amazingly cow-like combine.
Coast Guard patrolling the beach on a rather interesting looking machine. I wonder if the Vintagent could identify it from this snapshot.
Coast Guard Station next to the Boathouse.
The Boathouse
This is the original Beebe-McLellan Surfboat from the Island. 
The Story of the Surfboat is too amazing not to repeat here. Apparently, "oar and wind driven surfboats were used by the U.S Coast Guard Life-Saving Service prior to the introduction of motorized lifesaving craft. The Beebe-McLellan type surfboats were self-bailing, had sealed air compartments, a water ballast tank, a centerboard and could carry a sail rig. This is the only known original boat of this type and is believed to have once been assigned to the North Manitou Island U.S. Life-Saving Station. The boat was  constructed in 1908. A girl's camp on Elk Lake acquired the boat in the early 1920's and it sailed until the mid-1950's when it was placed on a cradle, a roof added, the self-bailing and ballast tanks removed, to become a playhouse Noah's Ark. A fully rigged reproduction Beebe-McLellan Surfboat is on display at the Sleeping Bear Point U.S. Life-Saving Station Maritime Museum at Glen Haven, Michigan." A rather appropriate use for a lifeboat...

A last view of the island from the ferry. 
The return voyage was extremely choppy with six foot swells. Several people were seasick.