by Sean Sabye Russell T. Gordon’s color lithograph entitled Hot Dog Bridge (figure 1) figures a monumental hot dog as a structure spanning two rust-colored rock formations, framed by a perfectly arched, almost tangible rainbow. The background of the image is filled with a bright blue sky, dotted with cotton candy clouds shaped by the negative space of the print. Russell mobilizes the ironic idealism of the scene, the lithographic nature of the piece, and the keystone role of the hot dog bridge to comment on the absurdity of the values we come to imbue with importance in America, specifically in relation to capitalism and accessible democracy. The vibrancy of the blue sky and rainbow, as well as the dental whiteness of the clouds, calls to mind the utopian qualities of advertising and, more generally, media in post-war 1950s America. Within the context of this period, the hot dog evokes the industrialization of consumer products, food included, that flourished then (and continues to flourish today). The machine of capitalism rewards manufacturers who can perpetually churn out consistent iterations of the same product. Though the nutritional quality of the hot dog remains questionable at best, its consistency is undeniable. As a lithograph, the piece’s replicability mirrors the replicability of the hot dog, remarking on how the greed of capitalism may come to infect a sphere such as art with the same mechanization it applies to mass-produced food. Comprised of meat trimmings, hot dogs make use of meat that would otherwise be discarded once choice cuts of chicken, beef, or pork are gathered and sold. Their “leftover” status means they can be purchased cheaply, making them a popular choice for efficiently feeding large groups of people. The highest and lowest socio-economic classes in the United States consume the hot dog, saturating its image with a lack of discrimination and a wealth of democracy. The hot dog’s association with celebrations of American culture and independence, whether that be baseball games or July Fourth barbeques, further adds to its symbolic relationship with uniquely American ideals. Forming the hot dog into this essential structure, Gordon exposes the historical idolization of the tenets of American democracy. Our nation claims to apply its statutes to all its citizens equally. Gordon, a Black man who experienced America before, during, and after the civil rights movement of the 1960s, knew this widely disseminated “fact” was (and still is) a systematic deception on some level. An unhealthy level of patriotism, of romanticizing the aspects of American democracy that make it special, teaches the socially and economically privileged to turn a blind eye to the negative features of our nation that have never leaked into their daily awareness of “the American dream.” To Gordon, putting a hot dog on this stony pedestal is as ridiculous as holding American democracy as an untouchable paragon. Gordon’s Hot Dog Bridge plays with our contextual understanding of food symbolism to satirize the sanctity with which emblems of American democracy and capitalism are popularly portrayed. America’s unhealthy obsession with economic efficiency and apotheosized vision of its own governing principles endanger the singularity of artistic creation and the ensured equality of its inhabitants. Maintaining a healthy skepticism surrounding the remarkable characteristics of the United States leaves room for critique and improvement of the systems we must mutually exist within. The symbolic role of the bridge, a structure offering access to previously unreachable space, requires further analysis, specifically how it could be interpreted through the lens of American immigration policy.

by Laura Tinkler Apollo, from the 'Apollo Bath,' is a porcelain figure from a centerpiece set, originally depicting the Greek god Apollo attended by six nymphs. In this piece, Apollo sits clad in laurels and partially clothed in a loose fabric, seated amidst water-worn rocks and a rock face adorned in flowers. The figure's posture, right arm outstretched and left foot unsupported, suggests Apollo is entering the water below. Notably, the back of the piece is bare, suggesting the piece is intended to sit against a wall or barrier, as viewers are only intended to see the front of the piece. Similarly, in this case, the letters on the bottom, "H" and "I," are not there to be viewed but rather to instruct how to order the figures in the set, and likely obscured by the dishes and foods the figures are placed. This piece draws from the sculpture 'Apollo served by the Nymphs' (1667-1675) by François Girardon, which depicts a life-sized version of a similar scene set in marble, originally placed in the Apollos's Bath Grove in the Garden of Versailles (François Girardon). Girardon sculpted this for Louis XIV, 'the Sun King,' who often associated himself with Apollo, the God of peace, the arts, and the sun, as an expression of power and cultural authority. Similarly, 'Apollo Bath' was manufactured by the Meissen, a porcelain manufactory favored by royals and aristocratic patrons (Nichols). Much like Louis XIV's association with Apollo, 18th-century royals and aristocrats sought to establish a parallel between their own authority and the symbolism of Apollo, reflecting their quest for power and cultural influence. WORKS CITED François Girardon. Palace of Versailles. (2021, July 1). https://en.chateauversailles.fr/discover/history/great-characters/francois-girardon. Nichols, S. (n.d.). AT TABLE: HIGH STYLE IN THE 18TH CENTURY. Carnegie Museum of Art. https://carnegiemuseums.org/magazine-archive/1996/sepoct/feat5.htm.

by Patrick Kaper-Barcelata This sake cup, from the 20th century, is attributed to the Japanese artist, Senzan. Sake, an alcoholic beverage made from fermented rice, has for centuries held deep significance in Japanese tradition and culture. Sake often plays a central role in religious rituals, offered to the gods at Shinto shrines before being communally enjoyed in feasts. Beyond religion, sake forms an important part of celebrations, social events, and work culture. Sake is intended to be enjoyed in the company of others, and it is customary to fill others’ sake cups as a show of conviviality, respect, and hospitality. While Japan has distinct social stratification determined by age and social status, the communal nature of sake drinking attenuates these barriers, acting as a unifier of people. Made of porcelain and adorned with a blue and red glazed plum branch, this cup builds on a tradition of Japanese porcelain starting in the 17th century. Originally reserved for domestic elites and wealthy foreigners, porcelain products became more accessible as Japan industrialized production and began exporting greater quantities to the United States and Europe through the 19th and 20th centuries. The delicate material, limited volume, and small opening of this cup classifies it as an ochoko cup, ideal for sipping. Ochoko cups tend to mask the acidity of sake and bring forward its sweetness. Emphasizing a clean, crisp flavor over depth and complexity, ochoko cups are suitable for multiple types of gatherings but not usually favored for ceremonies or very formal events. They must be regularly refilled, contributing to a friendly and social atmosphere. Across contexts and through various mediums of consumption, sake has continued to connect Japanese across social strata. Works Cited “Japanese Porcelain.” Diagnostic Artifacts in Maryland, https://apps.jefpat.maryland.gov/diagnostic/Porcelain/PorcelainWareDescriptions/Japan esePorcelain-intro.html. “Sake in Japanese Tradition and Culture.” Japanese Sake, Japan Sake and Shochu Makers Association,https://japansake.or.jp/sake/en/basic/sake-tradition-culture/.

by Olivia Stoll I encountered this Kiddush cup as part of a larger display of historical cups at the Ackland. The intricate engravings on the surface suggest that ancient feasts likely valued the Kiddush cup as something sacred. The cup was created by Hieronymus Mittnacht, a German silversmith specializing in Jewish goods. Silver was analogous to wealth in the 18th century, so objects crafted out of silver have inherent value. We can’t know much about the family that owned this cup other than they were wealthy and Jewish. The engraved letters are Hebrew characters that connect the cup, as the title indicates, to Jewish ceremonies. We could imagine how this family might have incorporated the Kiddush cup into their lives using contemporary understandings of Kiddush. In Judaism, Kiddush is a ritual performed (most often) to commence Shabbat meals. Like any good feast, the meal begins with everyone gathered around the table. Before people eat the food, they must complete Kiddush to “Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy” (Exodus 20:8). Then, a blessing is recited over wine (or grape juice) in the special Kiddush cup. The engravings on the Kiddush cup pictured above could contain some verses from Kiddush prayer; however, there is no standard design for Kiddush cup engravings. After the prayer, everyone takes a sip from the cup. Like most cultural/religious feasting rituals, Kiddush is communal. Sharing what is typically a personalized dish (such as a cup) is a less common practice. Because the cup is sacred and a centerpiece of prayer, the dish is crafted with extreme care. The materials are rich and the engravings are deliberate, enhancing the sanctity of the object. WORK CITED Chabad-Lubavitch Media Center. “Kiddush - Wine Before You Dine.” Chabad.org, 2011, https://www.chabad.org/library/article_cdo/aid/610626/jewish/Kiddush.htm. Accessed 3 October 2023.

by Caroline Gwaltney Pictured above is a cup known as a Kylix. The Kylix is meant to serve wine and is served along with another ceramic called a Krater. The Krater was a larger vessel that transported the wine. They diluted the wine in the vessel and poured it into the Kylix. The cup was used during a drinking party where mostly, if not only, males attended. The party was known as a symposium, a social celebration in Greece that was important to their social culture at the time. A symposium was a party thrown for several types of celebration. A popular game played with the wine they served in the Kylix at the party called Kottabos. Kottabos is when the guests throw wine at a target. The style of art for this Kylix is known as Red figure. The red figure was a popular style of vase painting from 500-323 BCE. The background is painted black, and the figures are left unpainted and in natural clay. The black paint makes for more fluid lines and contributes to the beautiful art. Something to note: males are drawn with beards when they are older and without beards when they are younger. The Kylix creates a connection between storytelling and feasting. While the men at the symposium enjoy a cup of wine, they can simultaneously enjoy the story being told on the cup. The large surface of the cup allows for the layers of wine to be thin, and the art to appear while drinking. The nude man featured on the top is balanced on a platform with a bow and arrow. He is different from the men on the bottom of the cup because ¾ of his face is shown instead of the ½ side view on the rest of the men. The men on the bottom are displayed all together as if they were at a symposium. One man is holding another hunched over (not pictured) while he appears to be sick. Myths were highly valued in Ancient Greek culture, and that shows in the connection between feasting and storytelling. It is clear the symposiums were valued because one is depicted here on the kylix shown above. These symposiums were a place where men could sit back, relax, and drink wine together. In their social gatherings, storytelling was still present. WORKS CITED “Ancient Greek Eye Cups by Zarifah Nawar.” Academus Education, Academus Education, 29 June 2020, www.academuseducation.co.uk/post/ancient-greek-eye-cups-by-zarifah-nawar. Hernandez, Alicia. “Archaeologies of the Greek Past.” Symposium, 2007, www.brown.edu/Departments/Joukowsky_Institute/courses/greekpast/4890.html. “Kylix.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., www.britannica.com/art/kylix. Accessed 11 Oct. 2023.

by Lan Vy Phan Among the pieces we viewed at the Ackland Museum, my favorite piece was “Apollo, from the Bath of Apollo centerpiece.” This small porcelain sculpture, depicted from an elevated perspective, portrays Apollo emerging from the water partially undressed. The intricate details on the figurine, such as the inclusion of flowers that reflect Baroque artistic elements and the depiction of pores on the submerged rock below, emphasize the aquatic setting. Initially, I had not expected for it to be directly related to the feast at all. Historically, this piece was part of a set of sculptures meant to adorn a dining table, and it stands as the sole surviving fragment of this collection. We only know what the other pieces look like from the molds of the collection found in the factory. Observing the sculpture from all angles, it becomes evident that there is no elaboration on the back, suggesting that these sculptures were likely meant for a U-shaped table arrangement. The absence of detail on the back underscores the notion that there was no need for ornamentation where guests would not see. The sculpture captures Apollo in a poised stance, with his hand outstretched, appearing as if he is preparing to leap, perhaps into a bowl of wine. These small statues, like the one of Apollo, were inspired by classical motifs and likely commissioned to showcase the opulence and grandeur of the owner's lifestyle. These exquisite sculptures served as a testament to the lavishness of the feast's host, highlighting their ability to procure such extravagant decorative pieces. Furthermore, our museum guide enlightened us about how these sculptures doubled as conversation starters. This aspect reminded me of scenes from the film "Parasite," in which elaborate plates were used as ornamental displays, rather than for consumption. It underscores the idea that a part of the dining experience is not solely focused on the culinary offerings but also extends to the artistry and decor on display. What you choose to exhibit on your dining table can be as significant as what you serve, whether it's for the purpose of entertainment or to demonstrate your prowess as a host. From this experience, I gained further insight into the intersection of art and feasting in the past. The meticulous detailing and placement of small sculptures on a dining table tells a story of opulence, grandeur, and the importance of aesthetics in the context of a feast. It relays the host’s desire to showcase their luxurious lifestyles and spark engaging conversations among their guests through the display of such exquisite pieces.

by Emily Shih The kylix cup with athletes from 430 BCE (Figure 1) and the rummer cup from 1710 (Figure 2) are two distinct drinking vessels that provide intriguing insights into the feasting and drinking cultures of their respective times. Despite being separated by over two millennia, they share common themes in their historical significance and the role they played in communal gatherings. The rummer cup represents a period in which feasting and social drinking were highly ritualized and marked by elegance. This ornate vessel, often adorned with intricate engravings and decorative elements such as grapes, was a symbol of affluence and sophistication. This particular rummer cup is made of silver with gilt coated on the inside. Its design catered to the pleasure of sipping fine spirits, enhancing the feasting experience. These cups were typically used in taverns and affluent households, where individuals gathered for conviviality and camaraderie, enjoying various alcoholic beverages. In contrast, the kylix cup with athletes from 430 BCE embodies an earlier period, ancient Greece, where feasting and athletic competitions were integral to social and cultural life. The kylix's shallow bowl and two horizontal handles made it ideal for sipping wine during a symposia where men reclined, drank, and engaged in discussions and entertainment. The cup's exterior featured scenes of athletes engaged in various sports, reflecting the Greek emphasis on physical prowess and the celebration of the human body. The kylix cup is wider and shallower than the rummer cup and would have required the server’s focus and muscular strength to lift the cup, further emphasizing the Greeks’ appreciation for human athleticism and agility. Wine could have easily been spilled from the kylix and the Greeks may not have minded due to the setting’s more informal nature. On the other hand, the rummer cup’s narrower and deeper divot represents the European’s appreciation for cleanliness and may have appreciated a more robust cup to prevent any spillage over guests’ expensive clothes. Both cups tell a story of who the guests at the feasts may have been; the kylix cup served affluent close-knit friends while the rummer cup served to impress sophisticated nobles. From a feasting perspective, both cups served as vessels for the consumption of alcoholic beverages, albeit in vastly different cultural contexts. The rummer cup evokes a sense of refinement and status, enhancing the experience of feasting in the 18th-century European upper class. In contrast, the Kylix Cup from ancient Greece emphasized the physical and intellectual aspects of feasting, with athleticism and philosophical discourse being central components of symposia. Just like modern-day cups and silverware, the rummer cup from 1710 and the kylix cup from 430 BCE represent the evolving nature of communal gatherings and the diverse ways in which different societies celebrated their cultures through food and drink. Their ornate patterns contribute to each feasts’ purpose—whether it is to celebrate, socialize, display status symbols, or to simply be a vessel for beverages, both cups allow for a deeper appreciation of humanity’s tapestry of cultures and the ways in which people have used them to enhance the experience of community and bonding.

by Davin Lee The Senzan sake cup produced in Japan during the 20th century provides a unique historical perspective on the social dynamics of food and drink of that era. Once an isolated and highly traditionalist country, Japan saw many changes during the 19th and 20th century. Imports from trading expansions after the Meiji restoration opened the country up to many external influences, especially in art. We see the western and chinese influence in this sake cup, as it possesses a stem reminiscent of western cups and cobalt blue porcelain adornments that originated in China. Gone is the idea of wabi-sabi design, where the imperfections in art are appreciated as indications of the fleeting nature of existence, and instead are replaced with the amalgamation of cultural influences booming at the time. The cup is perfectly symmetrical, and appears sterile and finely finished. There is a lack of traditionalism indicative of the shift towards industry and ‘westernization,’ a concept that only grew stronger after the country lost in the Pacific Theatre of the Second World War. Sake has been an important aspect of Japanese culture since the Yayoi Period 2500 years ago. During traditional weddings it is consumed by the bride and groom in turn from the same cup to signify their bond. In the kaiseki, a feast of small dishes meant to balance each other without overconsumption, sake or tea serves as the main drink. Even in the modern era, it is common practice for salary men to drink sake together at night, often playing drinking games or singing. The drinking of sake plays a major role in the way people share time and company in Japan. It is a unifying element that may transcend class or familiarity and serves as a means to get to know someone and enjoy in a shared pastime of drinking. The design of the cup indicates that the role of sake has begun to shift around the time it was created. Along with Western and Chinese influences came the popularization of beer. The cultural significance of sake, the traditions surrounding its drinking, and the design of the vessels meant to hold it were changing rapidly. In most traditional Japanese designs, there is a deep intention in the way each thing is crafted and is supposed to be represented. This is why if you examine sake cups of, for instance, the Azuchi–Momoyama period, you will see that clay is used and the cup appears more rustic and unadorned. With the death of Shintoism, lessening devotion to kami, as well as various external influences, Japan shifted to a more secular belief system. This is evident in the more market-forward style lacking the transcendentalist elements of past designs. Though still an important piece of glassware in every home, this cup marks the halfway point between the old and the new. Works Cited Ulak, James T. “Azuchi-Momoyama Period.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., www.britannica.com/art/Japanese-art/Azuchi-Momoyama-period. Accessed 2 Oct. 2023.

by Ethan Leonard The motto of the 1905 Lewis and Clark Centennial Exposition in Portland, Oregon was “Westward the Course of Empire Takes Its Way.” While the exposition was primarily focused on displaying the triumphs of American westward expansion, in the tradition of the great World’s Fairs of the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries, the great powers of Europe and Asia also furnished lavish exhibitions of their cultural and technological prowess, including France, Italy, Japan, Germany, and Austria-Hungary. Commenting on the latter, a correspondent for the Brush and Pencil artistic journal noted that “unlike the other national historical reproductions at the Fair… the Austrian home was quite modern” (Smith 9). Though the Austrian exhibit, itself designed by the renowned Art Nouveau architect Leopold Bauer, was adorned with vibrant works of the modern Secessionist movement alongside a variety of other works by artists representing the Empire’s innumerable ethnic cultures, “the most notable features were, of course, the Bohemian glassware and porcelain exhibit. The famous Bohemian glasswares, always so attractive to the lovers of the beautiful, showed in sixty different shades and colors the high progress constantly being made by manufacturers of the country” (Smith 11). Westward the Austrian Empire, only thirteen years away from its tumultuous dissolution, brought its finest glasswares from its northern reaches. While it is unlikely that the cup and saucer currently displayed at the Ackland Museum would have found itself alongside the masterworks selected for display at the Lewis and Clark Centennial, it nonetheless holds functions as an artifact of the complex intertwining of empire, art, modernity, and affluence which defined the same vanished world of the Habsburg Empire that amazed attendants of the 1905 Exposition. The piece was manufactured in Bohemian village Steinschönau, now the town of Kamenický Šenov in the Czech Republic. At the dawn of the Twentieth Century, however, Steinschönau and its surrounding towns boasted a prestigious collection of Fachschule, technical schools for the arts, which, under the auspices of the significant German minority in what was then the Austro-Hungarian imperial province of Bohemia, were renowned for their beautiful glassworks (Wiegelt & Christensen 48), the demand for which stretched as far as the Ottoman Empire (Bengisu & Bengisu 83). That the glassworks produced in Steinschönau cast such a wide net of influence is unsurprising considering that Bohemian crystal had been a treasured commodity since at least the Eighteenth Century, being employed as a decorative material in architectural triumphs as prestigious as Versailles and Monticello (Singerton 214). What makes the Ackland piece of particular interest is that it appears to belong to a set. The piece is wheel carved, suggesting some level of industrialized production, although it should be noted that, even at its most prestigious, it was not uncommon for Bohemian glass to be cut (Levetus 68). Despite this, the use of wheel carving coupled with the fact that sets of glass and porcelain were a commonly sold product across Europe in 1905 allows one to view in the Ackland piece a glimpse of the social, cultural, and economic world of the late Austro-Hungarian Empire. In the case of the latter, the decades preceding the piece’s manufacture, the Austrian Empire had undergone a rapid, albeit uneven, economic sprint forward (Cvrcek 24). This period of economic development, aided by a prolonged period of political and bureaucratic reorganization, gave rise to a distinct bourgeoisie and middle class element in Austria-Hungary, particularly in the Empire’s urban centers (Jelavich 80). Moreover, the increased integration of trade within Austria-Hungary allowed for goods produced in the periphery of the Empire to flow into its urban centers (Schulze & Wolf 671). Understanding the economic conditions in which the Ackland piece was produced and purchased allows one to understand its significance as an indicator of a lost historical world. In the design of the object itself, one may find embedded the cultural landscape of urban bourgeoisie Austria-Hungary, an aspect most prominently featured in the art-nouveau filigree which adorns the cup and its accompanying saucer. The decorative vines and flowers call to mind a muted, more pedestrian, stylistic rendition of the works of Alphonse Mucha or Koloman Moser, Secessionist artists who embodied a modernist thrust in Austrian culture. One of the founding imperatives of the Secessionist Movement, so named for its heavily publicized divorce from the orthodox Association of Austrian Artists, was a desire to provide a refuge for modern man from the confines of a chaotic modernity (Shorschke 217). Traces of this impulse may be found in the function of the object itself: a teacup which represents a leisurely and social form of activity, along with the painted botanical flourishes, seemingly grapes, that harken back to the premodern decadence of Greece and Rome. For the urban bourgeoisie of the late Empire, liberal and modernist in temperament, yet also fighting a losing battle against the political forces of ethnic nationalism, social democracy, and reactionary populism (Schorske 118), the alluring premodernism offered by the Secessionist artists, made easily accessible in the form of mass produced objects of leisure, bore a particular salience. The slippery archaeological power of objects, to at once possess a material permanence and a contextual significance, is a condition which remains true for the Ackland piece. The social context in which objects are used and produced, in this case by the bourgeoisie of the late Austro-Hungarian Empire, is what allows them to serve as sites of profound historical excavation. Part of this lies not merely in the object itself, but in the tension which exists between the various qualities of an object, between form and function, between the uniquely crafted and mass produced. How these tensions manifest is what allows one to decode the significance of an object as an artifact of a distinct social world (Miller 129-130), to unspool it into the various threads of social, economic, and cultural life which become bound up in it. In examining the various historical forces which lie hidden in the Ackland piece, hopefully it has been demonstrated how even seemingly mundane objects can be indicative of a vast historical tapestry. Works Cited Bengisu, Murat, and Füsun Erdoğanlar Bengisu. “Beykoz Glassware and Elements That Shaped It in the Nineteenth Century.” Design Issues, vol. 29, no. 1, 2013, pp. 79–92. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/24267104. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Cvrcek, Tomas. “Wages, Prices, and Living Standards in the Habsburg Empire, 1827-1910.” The Journal of Economic History, vol. 73, no. 1, 2013, pp. 1–37. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41811499. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Jelavich, Barbara. Modern Austria: Empire & Republic. Cambridge University Press, 1980. Levetus, A. S. “THE RENAISSANCE OF DESIGN IN CENTRAL EUROPE: With Special Reference to Glass and Rugs.” The American Magazine of Art, vol. 21, no. 2, 1930, pp. 65–71. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23931373. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Miller, Daniel. Material Culture or Mass Consumption. Blackwell, 1987. Shorske, Carl. Fin-De-Siecle Vienna: Politics and Culture. Vintage Books, 1979. Schulze, Max-Stephan, and Nikolaus Wolf. “Economic Nationalism and Economic Integration: The Austro-Hungarian Empire in the Late Nineteenth Century.” The Economic History Review, vol. 65, no. 2, 2012, pp. 652–73. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/41475601. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Singerton, Jonathan. “EPILOGUE: ‘I Am Happy Only When I Can Find a New World for Myself’: The Residue of Revolution in the Habsburg Lands, 1787-1795.” The American Revolution and the Habsburg Monarchy, University of Virginia Press, 2021, pp. 214–28. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv2524xbn.16. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Smith, S. L. “Austrian Art at the World’s Fair.” Brush and Pencil, vol. 15, no. 1, 1905, pp. 9–11. JSTOR, https://doi.org/10.2307/25503764. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023. Weigelt, Hilde, and Erwin O. Christensen. “Modern German Glass.” The American Magazine of Art, vol. 24, no. 1, 1932, pp. 35–48. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/23935688. Accessed 13 Oct. 2023.

by Carson Jolly The Kylix cup is a uniquely constructed drinking vessel that plays an essential role in ancient Greek culture. At first glance, the width of the bowl may lead someone to believe it holds a substantial amount of liquid. In reality, the cup is much shallower, giving insight into its rich history. At some Greek social gatherings or feasts, one might find a Kylix cup at the table filled with wine (Sheffer). The wine would be poured into the cup by someone outside of the feast in order to make sure that no one saw the image at the bottom of the bowl. This image would be similar to those on the outside of the cup and was the core focus of a game called Kottabos. In the game, the Kylix cup would be passed around the table and everyone would take turns flicking dregs of wine from the cup into a target at the center of the room. When the dregs of wine hit the target, the room would erupt with cheers. This action was done until the cup was empty and the image at the bottom was revealed. The image would often depict mythological stories, heroic deeds, or cultural symbols that were relevant at the time. These visuals served as conversation starters during the gathering; encouraging discussions, storytelling, and the sharing of cultural knowledge. As a result of the specialized purpose of the Kylix cup, it was mainly used in upper-class feasts (Wiki). Feasts like these were grand events, usually brought on by holidays or festivities. This made the Kylix Cup a vital aspect of the event as everyone wanted to play Kottabos. Sometimes, the festivities of the feast were discussed more than the food itself! (Wiki). Heroism, storytelling, and mythology were mainstays in Greek culture, so the images on Kylix cups can give creative insights into the time period in which they were made. Furthermore, Kylix cups help add a festive dynamic to feasts as people couldn’t wait to see what was at the bottom of the cup! Works Cited Clarke, Jim. “The Wild Ancient Greek Drinking Game That Required Throwing Wine.” Atlas Obscura, Atlas Obscura, 21 Feb. 2018, www.atlasobscura.com/articles/kottabos-ancient-greek-wine-spilling-game. Sheffer, Chelsey. “Kylix: Role in Culture.” Encyclopædia Britannica, Encyclopædia Britannica, inc., 2020, www.britannica.com/art/kylix. “Kylix.” Wikipedia, Wikimedia Foundation, 19 Oct. 2023, en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kylix.

by Zoe Kathryn Wall While this cup seems to be one of the more ordinary vessels on display at the Ackland Art Museum, the history of its creation reveals its artistic inspiration and deep connection to North Carolinian history. This cup was created by James Henry Owen in the early 1920s for Jugtown Pottery in the Seagrove region of North Carolina. It is most likely composed of clay sourced right from the ground in Moore County—the red clay visible can be found in Piedmont topsoil, and grey clay is present in nearby creek beds. The cup’s surface visibly contains small particles that break up the smoothness of the clay, giving it a somewhat unrefined appearance. Perhaps the artist understood that the appeal of his final piece would not be diminished by clues to the origin of its medium. This cup is an earthenware cup, meaning that it has been fired at a low enough temperature that the clay is not completely sealed. It was fired in Owen’s own workshop. His kiln would have been wood-fired and suited to producing earthenware. This firing technique also resulted in the mottling of the cup’s lead glaze. Lead glazing would have sealed the porous clay to allow the consumer to enjoy their beverage of choice without any liquid soaking into the cup’s sides. Owen’s choice of lead glazing was common in the early American pottery scene; it also results in complete transparency of the surface of the cup, again drawing the viewer’s attention to the rich details in the clay itself. This style of cup—wide, low, with a flared top—is called a “Confederate cup” because this style was the cup ordered for the Confederate army at the time of the Civil War. This cup, which is viewed as a part of history, was created by Owen as a nod to an even earlier history. It is large for a regular cup, and the mouth is very wide, which inspires curiosity regarding the intention of its design. Would the shape hamper the user’s ability to drink from this cup without spilling? These features give the impression that this cup would have been used casually, but Owen’s intention behind the piece ensures its respect. The artist’s choice of clay, firing, and shape when creating this vessel links it to the history of the land it was obtained from. JH Owen was hired to create pottery for Jacques and Juliana Busbee starting in 1917 until his death in 1923, shortly before the couple opened the original Jugtown pottery shop. His workshop was just one-eighth of a mile from Jugtown pottery if one traveled through the woods. Every piece that Owen created was made in his workshop and fired in his kiln. The cup on display was made by his hands in his own shop—a closer look at the inside of the cup’s lip will even reveal a small plastic print created by the release of his finger. This mark disrupts the precise, even lines left on the hand thrown surface, reminding the user of the cup’s creator. Owen only stamped some of his works, so this may be the only indicator of his personal touch. His descendants now run Jugtown Pottery, preserving their heritage that enriches North Carolina history. This cup may have had everyday usage, serving coffee or tea to its owner. It is not refined in its looks and is therefore most likely not for special occasions. It is easy to imagine this cup’s presence among the breakfast spread on a typical morning, filled with coffee, and sitting alongside an individual reading the paper. The cup’s commonality is its most essential feature—it allows the viewer to visualize how it was created and understand where it came from. Works Cited The Editors of Encyclopaedia Britannica. “Earthenware: Handcrafted, Glazed, Fired.” Encyclopedia Britannica, 20 July 1998, www.britannica.com/art/earthenware. Owens, Pamela. Text message to Zoe Wall. 10 Oct. 2023. “Pottery Makers of the Owen and Owens Families.” Potters For The North Carolina Pottery Center, Blogger, 25 January 2009, http://pottersforncpc.blogspot.com/2009/01/pottery-makers-of-owen-and-owens.html. Weaver, Ardath Goldstein. “State Art Medium of North Carolina: Clay.” NCpedia,State Library of North Carolina, 28 June 2013, https://www.ncpedia.org/symbols/artmedium#:~:text=The%20red%20clay%20potters%20in,to%20porcelain%20and%20ceramic%20pottery.

by Chantel Gillus The cup and saucer by Fachschule Steinschönau embodies the stereotypical feminine, dainty cup that’s used for fancy occasions. Surveying the delicacy of the cup, one would think that this is a cup that was made for and meant to be used by a woman or girl when drinking tea or coffee. With its cherry and leaves carved around the saucer and the cup, and yellow flowers circling the rim of the saucer, it has a graceful essence to it. Additionally, the smallness of the cup creates the assumption that it can be used by a child. Because of this, it delivers a sense of nostalgia as it reminds me of the cup and saucer I used in my childhood. As a child, I had a small cup and saucer like the one pictured above. Instead of a transparent cup covered in cherries and flowers, my cup and saucer were all white with molded red tiles around the rims. It was a cup and saucer that my grandparents reserved for me at their house when I would come to visit. When we’d wake up in the morning, my grandfather would brew the coffee and they’d give me the tinier cup and saucer, whilst they had bigger, more adult-like mugs. Then, we’d drink our morning coffee together, with my grandmother and I enjoying our coffee with creamer and sugar, and my grandfather drinking his black. Looking at an item from history can take you back to your own history. It’s a look through time on both ends; through the historical lenses of the cup and the past in which you’ve lived. It awakens memories deep inside that you may have forgotten. As a viewer, you’re able to associate this item with another object and/or memory that was impactful to you in your childhood. Steinschönau’s cup and saucer has an aura of innocence, and it can be a reminder of an innocent time as well. Likewise, Steinschönau’s cup and saucer illustrate a fantastical, romantic image that makes it look like it would be placed in or created for a fairytale. Teacups or small coffee mugs are often showcased in fairytales, which are tales directed towards children. Even at Walt Disney World, there’s a children’s ride called the Mad Tea Party, also known as the spinning-teacups ride, which is based on the Mad Hatter’s (Ed Wynn) tea party in the children’s film Alice in Wonderland (Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske 1951). Alice in Wonderland has a motif of tea in its story and sometimes, tea cups are associated with innocence. Alice in Wonderland is a coming-of-age story as Alice (Kathryn Beaumont) matures throughout the film transitioning from a young, naive girl to a woman. In Tim Burton’s 2010 version of the tale, there’s a flashback scene of Alice (Mia Wasikowska) as a young child in Wonderland engaging in a polished, bright, and light-hearted tea party with lots of sweet treats. When she returns to Wonderland as an adult, the tea party is now dim, disorderly, and less festive with broken tea cups and seemingly spoiled food. The dull tea party looks like it hasn’t been tended to in many years because it’s been forgotten and left behind by Alice who hasn’t visited Wonderland since she was a little girl. It’s a metaphor for Alice’s loss of innocence and imagination she once had as a child. Tea cups are fragile like innocence itself and you have to be careful not to break it. You have to be cautious to not expose it to any harm, danger, or negativity because if you do, there’s no putting the cup back together. Just like when innocence is lost, there’s no regaining it. Like the graceful, feminine, and innocent nature of Steinschönau’s cup and saucer, heedfulness is required when handling such a gentle entity. Works Cited Alice in Wonderland. Dir. Clyde Geronimi, Wilfred Jackson, Hamilton Luske. Perf. Kathryn Beaumont, Ed Wynn, Jerry Colonna, Verna Felton. Disney Plus, 1951. Streaming. Alice in Wonderland. Dir. Tim Burton. Perf. Mia Wasikowska, Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Anne Hathaway. Disney Plus, 2010. Streaming.

by Yuejia Zhang This rummer was made in Sweden c. 1710, during the Great Northern War (1700–1721) against a combined force of Northern European countries. Before that time, Sweden had held great power in northern Europe; however, its power waned due to its agrarian-based economy (sweden.se). Swedish royal families and the aristocracy of the time had a notable preference for silver utensils as a way to showcase their wealth and status during the war (Tonglishi.com). This rummer perhaps would have been one such utensil on display in a Swedish house. This shift in perception towards silver utensils provided the impetus for the development of Swedish silverware craftsmanship in the 1700s. Silver is one of the precious metals which function directly as a form of currency. The intrinsic monetary value of silver endows the silver utensils with value beyond their utilitarian purpose. As could be seen at the neck of this rummer, there are tiny holes where the bulged decorations are placed. Although rummers are originally intended to be drinking wares, these openings indicate that the purpose of this rummer is not for holding liquids (otherwise, the liquids will spill out). Presumably, its sole purpose was to serve as a symbol of authority and economic affluence. Moreover, the size of this rummer, in addition to the material, may signpost the superior status of the owner. The rummer has a generous volume compared to other drinking utensils, which conveys the idea of excessive consumption and ample supply despite the lack of resources faced by the Swedish economy at the time. The material and size of this rummer showcase the bubble of opulent indulgence and social standing within the backdrop of a struggling Swedish economy. It serves as the symbolic artifact that perpetuates the illusion of Swedish affluence and power. Works Cited History of sweden – more than vikings: Official Site of Sweden. Sweden.se. https://sweden.se/culture/history/history-of-sweden How Swedish silver craftsmanship innovates and develops? Tonglishi.com http://www.tonglishi.com/news/22155.html

by Savanna Mathis Sake is an alcoholic wine of Japanese origin created through the process of fermenting rice. Because of Japan’s location, much of Japanese culture and religion centers around the appreciation of nature and what it has to offer. Rice is one of the many products of nature that has become a staple in Japan. Because of the significance of rice in Japan, Sake and many other rice products are considered the most extravagant offerings that can be presented to the gods. Sake is also a culturally significant drink in Japan for bring people together through different festivities such as weddings, New Year’s, and more. Sake cups come in a variety of shapes and sizes. They can be made from a variety of materials as well, including silver, glass, porcelain, and more. Sake cups not only elevate the drinking experience, but they also display the craftsmanship and creativity of Japanese artists as many of the cups are extremely ornate in design. Ceramics are often a popular choice for Sake cups as they can be crafted with almost any design and provide an elegant appearance to Sake drinking. Sake Cup pictured above was crafted by the artist Senzan somewhere in Japan in the 20th century. The cup is made of porcelain and depicts what appears to be the branches of a tree of plums. This design is a unique addition to the cup as plums are a popular pairing with Sake. The cup ultimately represents the drinking of Sake as a bonding aspect of life in Japan. The process brings people together and praises Japanese culture and identity. Works Cited “The Beauty and Craftsmanship of Japanese Sake Cups.” Suigenkyo Online Store, Suigenkyo Online Store, 29 June 2023, suigenkyo.store/blogs/column/the-beauty-and-craftsmanship-of-japanese-sake-cups. “Sake in Japanese Tradition and Culture: JSS.” Japan Sake and Shochu Makers Association | JSS, 14 Jan. 2022, japansake.or.jp/sake/en/basic/sake-tradition-culture/.

by Claudia Opper Print by Jane O'Neal. Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. Seemingly suspended in air, a persimmon is the prominent subject of this Jane O’Neal print. Though the work shows a singular food item, its presence in the frame is provocative. Representing the fruit larger than life accentuates the aging process that happens immediately after picking a persimmon off a tree. Consequently, it invites viewers to ponder an important aspect of a feast: even when dishes are stripped to their most simplistic forms, to eat we must kill. The fruit is propped up so that the stem and leaves point towards the spectator. In an analysis of the O’Neal gallery where this work originally appeared, Shana Nys Dambrot remarked, “Eerily, it is also clear that nothing on display is still alive.” The shriveled leaves appear to already be brown at the edges. Instead of focusing on the plump, juicy flesh fit for consumption, one is asked to consider the part of the fruit that is not edible, but also is imperative nonetheless. This calls into question an interesting process in the act of dining and feasting. Food is necessary for sustenance, for human life. Yet, in order for humans and other animals to fuel themselves, they must consume organic matter. There is much precedent in showing sacrifices required to eat in literature and film. In a work as fundamental as the Old Testament’s Genesis, a stay in the Garden of Eden was given up for a bite of the forbidden fruit. In more recent years, the townspeople in the film Chocolat (2000) trade in tradition for the enjoyment of chocolate. O’Neal focuses on a more rudimentary connection between feasting and trade-offs. By prominently displaying the part of the persimmon that once allowed the fruit to form, one realizes that the fruit has been plucked from its life source for the purpose of nourishing someone else. While people may more commonly associate killing as part of the food preparation process when meat is involved, harvesting produce can also be viewed as an act of where something must be cut off from its life source before it can be used in a meal. Seeing one piece of isolated fruit invites thoughts about how much time and energy was involved in creating and killing what serve as basic ingredients that might otherwise be ignored when feasters are inundated with the remaining components of a feasting experience. So why a persimmon? Why was the persimmon chosen to convey these messages of life, decay, and sustenance? O’Neal has not directly commented on her choice of subject. Although not a staple fruit in America, persimmons are native to Asia and have been grown in the Mediterranean for over a century (Morton). Known as kaki in Japanese, the persimmon is especially prevalent in Japan (“The Many Uses of the Delicious Kaki (Japanese Persimmon”). There, it is prized for both being ready-to-eat as soon as one cuts into the fruit and for its many uses post-fermentation. Since the fruit holds value soon after it is separated from the Earth and once it has time to chemically change after a fermenting process, the persimmon appears as an excellent choice for showing how all meals include trade-offs; even produce must be separated from its energy source in order to then to provide sustenance for feasting animals. Works Cited Dambrot, Shana Nys. “Jane O’Neal.” Nihilesentimentalgia, 27 Feb. 2012, nihilsentimentalgia.com/2012/02/27/%E2%94%90-jane-oneal-%E2%94%94/. Morton, Julia F. “Japanese Persimmon.” Japanese Persimmon, Purdue, 2020, hort.purdue.edu/newcrop/morton/japanese_persimmon.html. “The Many Uses of the Delicious Kaki (Japanese Persimmon).” Japan Info, 7 Dec. 2015, jpninfo.com/35207.

by Aly Worthem Diego Rivera, The Fiesta of Santa Anita (La Fiesta di Santa Anita),1926, photo-mechanical halftone relief print in red, from a drawing. Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. A principal artist of the Mexican Modernist movement of the 20th century, Diego Rivera created The Feast of Santa Anita only a few years after the end of the Mexican Revolution (1910-1920). As depicted by Rivera, the feast is not a celebration of consumption, but rather of community-building, a reverence for nature, and thoughtful preparation of the feast itself. Artists such as Rivera were critical to the creation of a national identity and consciousness that was inherent to the Revolution (Kennicott), and it is therefore significant that Rivera chose to focus on Aztec ritual and celebration in this piece. The expressionless, stock characters that populate this work imply that the sacredness of the feast is not in the individuality of the participants, but rather in the community building it allows. The lack of individuality of the characters fosters a sense of unity, in contrast with one of stereotyping or Othering, that was lacking in the post-Revolution years. The involvement of man, woman, and child in this piece furthers this idea that the community, rather than individuality, is what has made this feast day sacred. We can see these motifs of togetherness and the sacredness of the feast in movies such as The Hundred Foot Journey or Big Night in which the feast is first and foremost a cultural celebration, and to lose that cultural identity would be to submit to an anti-feast. Characteristic to Rivera’s art, the Calla Lily in this piece is a tribute to Aztec heritage as the flowers were commonly sold in markets on the days leading up to feast (Maureen Gilmer). Interestingly, the Calla Lily is not native to Mexico, but it’s prominence in Rivera’s art has created an ownership of the flower in Mexican consciousness, therefore indicating that the feast is not a singular event but an ideal to be continuously sought after. The simple lines in this work, specifically of the flowers, implies that the feast necessitates sharing and celebrating nature’s simplicity. Finally, preparation, rather than consumption is essential to this piece. Similar to the movie Babette’s Feast, the care put into the preparation is what has made the feast a special meal. The act of feasting is not just one of consumption, but must include the preparation as well. While the people dancing in the background may be the actual consumers of the feast, Rivera’s positioning of those preparing the feast in the foreground elevates their, often overlooked, essentiality to the feast. Works Cited Kennicott, Philip. “Artists Helped Make the Mexican Revolution an International Phenomenon.” Washington Post, 27 Dec. 2016, https://www.washingtonpost.com/entertainment/museums/artists-helped-make-the-mexican-revolution-an-international-phenomenon/2016/12/26/2f344fde-c953-11e6-8bee-54e800ef2a63_story.html. Maureen Gilmer. “True-Blue Bloomers Colorful Calla Inspired Mexican Muralist: [Final Edition].” Journal – Gazette, Jan 04, 2004, pp. 2F. ProQuest.

by Rosie Robbins "Dance in a Garden". Nicolas Lancret, French, 1690-1743, oil on canvas. Ackland Fund. Conservation treatment for this painting, completed in 2009, was made possible by the generous support of the Tyche Foundation. Ackland Art Museum, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Through specific details of Dance in a Garden Nicolas Lancret illustrates that an outdoor feast contains the power and authority to break aristocratic folk out of their constricting norms. The garden allows this particular feast to foster community and a spirit of celebration. The classic elements which typically makeup an elite feast, such as the sweeping ballroom, or champagne on ice are disregarded in this painting and replaced with stream chilled refreshments, and nature’s carpet. With the help of the forest, the guests are invited to taste what they constantly crave; sweet freedom. Traditionally, upper-class feasts were known to prioritize the quality and quantity of the food itself. The host of these gatherings would often use the food to communicate their wealth or even to provide the guests with pleasure. Lancret portrays that freedom can be found in a counter feast by turning the focus from the food to the music and movement in the Garden. The long table holds only a small bowl of fruit and is disregarded by every guest. Revealing that the food itself is not what demands to be feasted on, instead the dance becomes the main course for the hungry partygoers. The dance is unconfined by marbled walls and falls in the foreground of the feast; delivering pleasure to all. The dancers’ movements and the trees surrounding them sway with delight. The guests body language insinuates a lack of elitist snobbery for they are entranced by the couple’s liberation. The musician keeps in step with the pace of the party through the cadence of his merry tune and the resourceful servant finds a nearby stream to keep the alcohol optimally chilled for the guest’s consumption. These details reveal that nature blurs the hard line which usually exists between the aristocrats and the outside world. This feast gives restricted individuals the space to move around without reservation, which allows for the painting to be a spectacle of freedom. It’s important to note an alternate interpretation based on the way that the two workers (musician and bartender) are painted in dark shadows on the outskirts of the celebration. Lancret, could be communicating that aristocratic feasts are diacritical rather than communal. Rather than collective freedom, there is an element of exclusion which is present and suggests that not all are invited to share in the feast. The freedom to feast appears to be exclusive, and designated only for the privileged. In the novel Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert, Emma and Charles have an outdoor wedding feast at the Rousalt family farm which raises similar themes to those present in Lancret. Flaubert goes into great detail to describe the various modes of transportation which deliver the guests, explaining that they arrived: “in carriages, in one-horse chaises, two-wheeled cars, old open gigs, waggonettes with leather hoods and the young people who were from the nearer villages in carts, in which they stood up in rows, holding on to the sides so as not to fall” (Flaubert, pg. 23). The initial journey over to the banquet proves to be extremely cramped. The guest’s are imprisoned in their carts and cars and are crushed in number and capacity. Their physical situation corresponds to their emotional confinement. These folks are hungry for physical and emotional freedom, and the outdoor feast at the Rousalt farm will prove to liberate them. Once the vehicles arrive at the front of the farm, the text states that the guests: “got down from all sides, rubbing knees and stretching arms” (Flaubert, pg. 23). The way that Flaubert documents the process of travel, from elite household to the acreage on the estate, symbolizes the freedom that can be found in an outdoor feast. Works Cited: Flaubert, Gustave, 1821-1880. Madame Bovary : Mœurs De Province. Paris: Tallandier, 1967.

by Alexis Mutter Belshazzar’s Feast is a satirical lithograph created by French artist Charles Joseph Travies de Villers in 1834. The piece is based on Rembrandt’s Belshazzar’s Feast, which depicted the king of Belshazzar and his guests at a feast. Rembrandt’s work in turn portrayed the scene of Belshazzar from the Bible. The work of Travies was produced four years after Louis-Philippe came into reign and discontent of the government within those few years can noticeably be seen in his portrayal of the monarchy and his council. At the point in time that the lithograph was made, France was working towards stability. For nearly a half-century, the nation underwent destruction during the French Revolution and Napoleonic wars spanning 1789 to 1815 (Hunt, 2004). In the aftermath of such desolation, Louis XVIII was named as the restoration King, only to die while in reign in 1824. Charles X, the brother of Louis XVIII, took the seat as the King of France for a short six-year reign until he abdicated in 1830. Louis-Philippe took the throne after Charles X and advocated his liberal policies while adopting the title of “King of the French” (Price, 2007). At first he was very much loved and supported, but Louis-Philippe’s government strayed from its liberal foundation and became increasingly more conservative. His regime saw the crumbling of working conditions as well as a widened income gap, leading to an economic crisis in the last year of his reign. The horrific economic crisis that led to rebellion was rooted in five Parisian banks closing within the decade as well as nearly fifty mills closing in Mullhouse, a leading industrial capital (Dunham, 1948). As Dunham addressed it in Unrest in France, “the Revolution had not caused the crisis. It merely intensified a crisis that already existed.” Needless to say, Travies found humor in Louis-Philippe’s situation was in and wanted to publish his work in La Caricature, a satirical Parisian paper that did not always have the support of the government because of its censorship violations. To analyze Belshazzar’s Feast, an understanding of the original reference needs to be established. The feast of the king of Belshazzar is first mentioned in the Book of Daniel. In addition to the verses written at the bottom of Travies’s lithograph, Daniel states that Belshazzar is to have “profaned holy vessels looted from the temple.” The king of Belshazzar and his guests interrupted at their feast by the hand of God spelling out a phrase that loosely translates from Hebrew into “This will not last forever” (KJV, Daniel 5:1-4). Around 1636, Rembrandt portrayed this scene in his painting suitably titled Balthazar’s Feast. Rembrandt’s work, more so than the Book of Daniel, served as the primary influence for Travies’s satire on the story in relation to France’s politics occurring at the moment (Colby). In the Bible and Rembrandt’s work, the hand of God was foretelling the downfall of Balthazar’s reign, his death, and the approaching elimination of his empire (Bomford et al.). This foretelling can also be applied to Travies’s work in which God is warning Louis-Philippe of his downfall that will come about due to the revolution of 1848 (Colby). His demise, which was predicted in Travies’s work, came about because of the disapproval from citizens as the government gradually became conservative and Socialists began to revolt (Dunham). The frequent use of the feast of Belshazzar in many artistic depictions of demise give way to the potential of Travies’s painting being compared to modern films. The aspect of the feast in Belshazzar’s Feast represents a lavish occurrence that soon becomes, in a way, the last supper. Such transformation is reflected in Scott and Tucci’s Big Night. The theme of these two works demonstrates the materialistic value people place on events and how that acts as a distracter to the detrimental reality awaiting them, which can ultimately result in failure. In Big Night the two protagonists, Primo and Secondo, prepare a grand feast to save their failing authentic Italian restaurant. After preparing a feast for the guest of honor, in Travies’s work the “guest” of honor would be Louis-Philippe, there is a warning that their restaurant would soon be foreclosed because there would be no redemption. The happiness of Primo and Secondo’s reign over their kitchen would be dampened by the looming of foreclosure in the future. Similarly, the warning of failure evidently shocked Louis-Philippe in Travies’s work. The significance of food in both of these works highlights the strong opposing forces that feasts present. In one aspect there is an extravagance about the entire ambiance of the situation, as feasters nearly bathe in the luxuriousness of the feast. On the other hand there is a deterioration of identity and confidence that can suddenly transform the motive of the feast into the deprivation of richness and culture. In a beautiful manner, both Belshazzar’s Feast and Big Night demonstrate the conversion of one extremity of feast to the other. Works Cited: Big Night. Dir. Campbell Scott, Stanley Tucci.” Rysher Entertainment: 1996, Film. Bomford, D., Brown, C., and Roy, A.. Art in the Making, Rembrandt. London: National Gallery Publications, 1988. Print. Colby, Robert. Personal Interview. 23 09 2010. <http://www.ackland.org/art/collection/search/Result.php?accession=2000.10.6>. Daniel. The Holy Bible King James Version: 1611 Edition. Hendrickson Publishers. Dunham, Arthur. “Unrest in France in 1848.” Journal of Economic History 8. (1948): 74-84. Cambridge University Press, 1948. Web. <http://www.jstor.org/stable/2113565>. Hunt, Lynn Avery. Politics, Culture, and Class in the French Revolution. University of California at Berkeley, 2004. Print. Price, Munro. The Perilous Crown : France Between Revolutions, 1814-1848. London: Macmillan, 2007. Print.

by Alexis Rose In Men Eating, the people are not in a formal situation. Three of the men are wearing happi or a cotton robe-like vest. This could symbolize that the three men are all working together for the same festival performance or to show that they are workers in the same place. The man wearing the long kimono has a rope around his waist and something resembling a sheath can be seen coming from him. The sitting man is the only one wearing pants. They seem like a mixed group of people, yet they all have the same hachimaki, a Japanese headband, in common. Generally, the hachimaki are made having a similar motif to the happi they will be worn with. Men Eating was taken by Felice Beato, an Italian-British photographer who mainly took photographs of East Asia. Men Eating was made during a time when “orientalist” ways of portraying and patronizing Japan was popular in Europe and the United States. This albumen print was originally in black and white and was later tinted, presumably also by Beato. The overall main colors are the blue from their clothes and the brown from the ground, basket and other background items, although they are slightly faded. Most of the objects seem to be in proximity to the man serving the food for convenience. Only one person has food, one person has a teacup and another one is reaching for one. Compared to the other food related objects, only the teapot is oddly out of reach from the man wearing pants.

by Mary Scott Brisson Russell Gordon’s Hot Dog Bridge offers a visual interpretation of food’s bridging capabilities. Food facilitates connection and bonding amongst individuals. Sharing a meal creates common ground and fosters an environment for people to come together, converse, experience fellowship, and grow closer. The placement of Gordon’s hot dog between two canyons serves as a metaphor for food’s ability to act as a catalyst for an exchange of thoughts, laughter, questions, and conversation. In many cases, sharing a meal with others bridges gaps created by cultural, religious, or socioeconomic status barriers. Moreover, the title of the piece further suggests how hot dogs specifically can act as “bridges” in the metaphorical sense. Gordon’s choice to use a hot dog as a bridge speaks to America’s long-enduring relationship with the food. Hot dogs exist as a common and beloved American food often associated with sporting events, barbecues, picnics, and school lunches. This ubiquity makes them a symbol of inclusivity and American culture. Furthermore, hot dogs maintain affordability and simplicity, thus typically making them accessible to people of all varying backgrounds. Their informality also reveals the relaxed nature of social gatherings that provide them, which works to create an unpretentious and inclusive atmosphere. Finally, hot dogs’ ability to take on customizations affords everyone the opportunity to personalize the food according to their different taste palates. In Gordon’s image, the hot dog becomes a symbol of shared moments, traditions, a cure to cultural barriers, and connections formed from food in America. The image demonstrates the idea that a food as simple as a hot dog possesses the ability to serve as a bridge to unite people, regardless of their identity, and create a special form of community. His choice of colors further reveals the happy nature often associated with food and eating. His choice to include a rainbow, often a universal sign of inclusivity, illustrates how the artist himself understands hot dogs’ purpose and importance within American culture.

by Meg Van Cleve Still Life with Hunting Trophies, an oil painting by the Dutch artist Jan Weenix, depicts a hunting scene that focuses primarily on the dead animals, or “trophies,” of a hunt. While the hunters themselves inhabit the background of the painting, the spoils of the hunt are on full display as larger-than-life figures inhabiting the immediate foreground. There is no question as to the fate of these animals; the bloody mouth of the deer and the limp neck and bodies of the two birds emphasize the finality of their death. Weenix paints these animals with ornate detail and care, highlighting the softness of the deer’s coat and the intricate feather pattern of the large white bird. Their bodies are illuminated by a soft light, shining also onto a strategically placed rifle decorated with red tassels, in case the viewer is at all questioning the intent of the hunt. However, there is a life to the scene despite physical indicators of death, exemplified by the lush background of flowers, grapes, and foliage, along with the living animals, like the monkey and dog, that visually sandwich the dead carcasses. Memento mori is a Latin terminology meaning, literally, “remember you must die” (Pound). This concept is popular throughout art history, but especially in the still life movement as artists contrast vivacious life with markers of death and dying. The presence of a memento mori is a visual and philosophic reminder of the ephemerality of life, suggesting a need to acknowledge the dark parts of death in the midst of celebrating life. Still Life with Hunting Trophies portrays the primality of securing food, an act that takes one life in the quest of supporting another. Death is an integral part of the feast, and this fact is both beautiful and unsettling. The activity of the hunters and their animal counterparts does not detract from the sobering reality of death in the foreground, and Weenix captures both with complexity and honesty. Through the use of memento mori, Still Life with Hunting Trophies shows the duality of feasting and of worldly nature, punctuated by life and equally punctuated by death. WORK CITED Pound, Cath. "Lush 17th-Century Paintings Are Striking Reminders of Mortality." Artsy, Artsy, 2019, https://www.artsy.net/article/artsy-editorial-lush-17th-century-paintings-striking-reminders-mortality.

by John Ligtenberg “Wine is a Mocker,” a 1670 Dutch print by Hendrik Bary after Frans van Mieris, is part of a popular genre of didactic art which depict scenes with multiple, anonymous characters engaged in everyday activities. In this work, a sleeping woman and a mischievous, pot-pouring man are engaged in opposite activities, and yet are given equal importance, which complicates the genre convention of deriving a single moral from the art, and instead makes a critique of two different, but equally reprehensible, effects of drinking. The two characters are as far apart as can be. A woman sleeps while a man with a roguish expression empties the contents of his bowl over her head, and it is unclear which character, the sleeping woman or the man, is influenced by wine, or whether both of them show a different aspect of drunkenness. In the latter case, the woman is in a drunken stupor and therefore vulnerable, but the even, soft lighting on her skin gives her beauty. On the other hand, the man’s humorous face is rendered terrifying by harsh lighting; the dark shadow of his nose over his left eye reminds one of a black eye, and his expression is that of a flamboyant jester. Thus the play of light in the image captures two different effects of drinking, neither of which is flattering to the recipient.

by Suejette Black and Katelyn Liu George Cruikshank, 1792-1878, British. "Virgo- Unmatched Enjoyment". Etching. Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. The William A. Whitaker Collection, 70.31.36 Cruikshank was a well-known British caricaturist and book illustrator. His caricatures were often of British social life or politics and he was one of the most famous satirists of his time. His other notable works include illustrations for Charles Dickens and illustrating the first English translation of Grimms’ Fairy Tales. In this small print of “Unmatched Enjoyment,” a close inspection reveals a playful depiction of ladies enjoying an afternoon tea surrounded by several pets, including cats and birds, but mostly dogs. The British take on tea is shown by the accompaniment of sugar cubes and scones. Reflective of the title of piece, it seems to be expressing the love the British have for their afternoon tea hour and is complemented by the pleased faces of the ladies in the etching. Keeping in mind Cruikshank’s style of satire, however, one might look more closely at the the piece and find a different interpretation, other than just the pleasure of tea. In the cartoon, the butler says, “Bless these young ladies! how happy they they all do seem to be! Bless their little hearts.” It is clear that the ladies in the print, though, are not young, in fact, they seem to be a variety of middle-aged women. During Cruikshank’s career, afternoon tea was a relatively new concept, only coming about in the 1840s to be accessible for the working-class of England. It is possible he is making a commentary on these elderly women in England thinking too highly of themselves and the excessive lifestyle these women lead. They seem to transform the simple act of drinking tea into a sort of party. Perhaps Cruikshank may be commenting on the trendiness of afternoon tea culture, highlighting how even middle-aged, middle-class women are quick to jump on board with whatever passing fad happens to infiltrate the upper echelons of English social spheres. The superfluous attendance of all their dogs indicates the intentionality invested in maintaining a facade of interesting and extravagant social lives.

by Jennifer Na, Tatiana Farmer, and Jack Wang Louis-Charles Gautier-Dagoty French, 1746-after 1787 "Suite of Six Knots of Ribbon Adorned with Flowers" (Cahier de six Noeuds de Rubans, Ornèe de Fleurs), 1770 Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill The William A. Whitaker Foundation Art Fund The beauty of flowers has been an essential part of human civilization. We use flowers across cultures in many different ways. Aesthetic beauty, ingredients in food, symbols of love, virginity, even death. The importance we attribute to the flower’s beauty have led to mankind’s search for new colors and varieties. In the Suite of Six Knots of Ribbon Adorned with Flowers print, the common English rose is a hybrid between Chinese and Persian varieties. Its allure is the result of people’s attraction to the new and exotic. However, Europeans’ widespread implementation, or implantation, of this flower into gardens and subsequent aesthetic uses indicates acculturation and acceptance of the exotic into the dominant culture. The interchange of ideas and goods between cultures are not always associated with harmony and consent. The Chinese tea plant, for example, was secretly stolen by a British spy and taken back to Britain for cultivation. China was certainly unwilling to allow the British to have their own means of producing such a valuable export good. Perhaps the hybrid rose we see in the catalogue above comes from a similarly illegitimate background, the story behind this delicate flower is as mysterious as the artwork itself. Little is known about this piece of artwork. The writings in the book suggest that it is some sort of advertisement, but for what purpose? Is this intricate network of knotted ribbon and rose an art piece for a wealthy estate? Or is it the centerpiece of a lavish party? The significance of the six roses are unknown and the use of the book is equally unclear. The book itself could be for sale as well as the content inside of it. On the first page, we have a six-knotted ribbon entwined with roses. We can assume the ribbons are colorless to accentuate to the red flowers entangled in them, delicate additions which emerge amongst the foreground of otherwise monochromatic etchings. The printed rendition of the ornate decoration implies dimension through its hatching and shading, yet exudes grace instead of gaudiness because of the fine line details. The rest of the book also contains bicolored prints advertising more items for sale, which confirms the idea of its being a catalogue. These prints give an insight into the trends of adornment and decoration in eighteenth-century France. The adoption of the common English rose into French haute fashion indicates the transculturation that occurs through trade, further complicated by the Eastern origins of the hybridized plant. The dainty appearance of roses and ribbons veils the complex and sometimes shady history of transculturation.

by Kerry Walsh Honoré Daumier was a French lithographer who over the course of his lifetime drew over 4,000 lithographs. These lithographs were mainly satirical, and appeared in his French satirical newspaper, La Caricature. Daumier enjoyed criticizing the French government, and also the members of legal professions (judges, attorneys, etc.). One of his lithographs, Hippophagia (1857), gathered a lot of backlash because it advocated for the consumption of horsemeat. At the time of its publication, France was trenched in social disorder and chaos. The government had still not recovered from its monarchial overthrow during the French Revolution of 1789, and with the Industrial Revolution making fast changes to Europe, France struggled to keep up. Instead of becoming a successful empire like Britain, France experienced long bouts of starvation, leading France’s impoverished social class to buy horse meat because of its vast availability and cheap prices. However, though horse meat was not a taboo in France, the consumption of horse meat is a taboo elsewhere around the world. Daumier’s lithograph demonstrates that horse meat is edible, and should not be condemned otherwise. Many critics of horse meat complain that it is too tough, but that is generally due to the meat being overcooked. Instead, one should look at the health benefits of horse meat—it is high in caloric value and in protein. Originally a critique of the French government, Daumier’s lithograph can also be portrayed as his argument for the consumption of horse meat.

by Jennifer Lyu Tracing as far back to 1600 B.C. during the Shang Dynasty, the intricacies and structure of the Chinese wine vessel has become a tool for historians to discover the importance of wine and its many uses throughout Chinese history. The wine vessel was first commonly used in rituals as a channel through which the living and the dead may communicate to allow the strengthening of ancestral ties and the preservation of family tradition and culture. If you look closely to the marks on this specific vessel, there are spiral designs incorporated around the base. Many historians believe the Chinese saw the cyclical nature of these spiral designs as a symbol of unity or the blending of different elements together to create a dynamic whole. The elements of the living and the dead, reality and mythology are, in effect, all becoming connected as one entity, thus bringing one closer to family traditions and the great divine. Wine also became popular among kings and noblemen of Ancient China. This elite class often drank wine for the purpose of leisure and enjoyment. However, excessive drinking and indulgence by kings, such as Di Xin of the Shang Dynasty, led them to neglect their royal duties and gradually steered the dynasty to its downfall. Lastly, it was soon discovered that wine’s bitter, sweet, and pungent elements gave it the abilities to kill all pathogens and act as a healing mechanism to treat many diseases and illnesses. Medicinal wine became well known as a preservative for kings’ corpses, as well as a treatment for snakebites, carbuncles, and other itches.

by Markella Patitsas The kylix is a drinking cup specially designed for use in ancient Greek symposia, or drinking parties. The sensual design of the cup, with its gentle curves and painted representation of a voluptuous woman, evokes the erotic atmosphere that surrounded symposia. Flute-girls, prostitutes, drinking games, and lovers’ play all contributed to the symposium being known as a setting for revelry and amorous spectacles. In Plato’s Symposium, however, the attendees turned towards a philosophical discussion of nature of love, or eros, and each of the seven speakers, offer their own perspectives on the subject. The discussion culminates in Socrates’ speech on the “ladder of love”- a metaphorical ladder by which one translates their physical attraction to beauty into a divine yearning for beauty, and communion with the form of love itself. The speech makes it clear that beauty and love are inseparable, and are in fact, mutually dependent. This idea has etymological origins and words such as “to kalos” (“the good” or “the beautiful”) capture the close relationship between love and beauty. Since the Greeks believed outer beauty reflected one’s inner qualities, they put great care into their appearances. The depiction of a woman and her mirror on this kylix reveals that a tradition of vanity was embedded in Greek drinking rites.

by Martha Isaacs This jūbako box, equipped with a handle for efficient carrying, emerged in Japan as a device for transporting meals to elite social events, such as theatre productions or cherry blossom festivals. Jūbako boxes derived from bentō boxes, which originated in the fifth century when samurai and warriors needed to carry rice from home on long journeys. The boxes developed into wooden lacquered boxes during the Azuchi-Momoyama Period from 1568 to 1600, and meals could be served in such structures for tea parties and social gatherings This jūbako box likely originates from the late 18th century in the Edo period of Japan, when samurai became the ruling class and jūbako boxes became more luxurious, filled with sesame seeds and side dishes for upper-class recreational outings Particularly ornate jūbako boxes, often decorated with fruit or oyster designs such as the box above, surfaced during special occasions to entertain guests or host special ceremonies Lacquerware gained its value from its difficult crafting, for the lacquering process required thirty-three stages, including preparing the wood, applying powdered clay to hide the texture, and several applications of high-quality lacquer, a heat resistant material from rhus verniciflua tree’s sap. The jūbako box, complete with a striking red interior, demonstrates shu lacquer made from adding cinnabar coloring. Often decorated with gold and silver or the owner’s crest, these containers did not provide commonplace meals for Japanese masses, but served as special objects saved for holidays such as New Year’s celebrations.

by Josh Green Johann Joachim Kändler German, 1706-1775 Apollo, from the ‘Apollo Bath’ centerpiece, c. 1748 Porcelain with clear glaze 21 3/16 in. (53.8 cm) Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Gift of the William E. Shipp Estate, by exchange 2012.7 Apollo, from the ‘Apollo Bath’ centerpiece is a porcelain sculpture of the god Apollo reclining on a flower-covered rock. Apollo sits partially clothed with his right arm outstretched and his head encircled by laurel leaves. Apollo is a fitting subject for such a centerpiece as he is the god of music, poetry, and other fine arts (Apollon). Originally, the sculpture was part of a set that included a number of nymphs designed to surround the reclining god, but all elements except the centerpiece have been lost to history (European Art). It is likely that this particular piece was designed for a dessert table, as floral imagery was especially popular for dessert centerpieces. Interestingly, the centerpieces of dessert tables used to be created from sugar until porcelain was readily available in Europe (Nichols). For many years porcelain was imported from China, with pieces often designed and produced with European style and taste in mind. However, beginning around 1710, artists in the German Meissen factory learned to produce porcelain and began creating works of art like the Apollo (Naturalistic Spoon). Johann Joachim Kändler, the artist who created this particular piece worked at the Meissen factory for over 40 years after leaving the service of King Augustus II of Poland (Naturalistic Spoon). During his life, he was one of the most well-known porcelain sculptors in Europe. Works Cited Atsma, Aaron J. “Apollon,” Theoi Greek Mythology. Retrieved from http://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Apollon.html. Manners, E & H. “European art of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.” (No. 2.2.2015). Ackland Art Museum. Retrieved from http://www.europeanporcelain.com/archive/d/a-figure-of-apollo-modelledby-joachim-kaendler/103344. Nichols, Sarah. “At table: High style in the 18th century.” Retrieved from http://www.carnegiemuseums.org/cmag/bk_issue/1996/sepoct/feat5.htm Yamauchi, Seiji. “Johann Joachim Kändler/ Kaendler (1706-1775),” Naturalistic Spoon. Retrieved from http://cefiro.main.jp/Johann_Joachim_Kaendler.html

by Maggie Rutherford The Kiddush Cup was completed by Hieronymus Mittnacht in 1761 and was intended for use by Jewish families celebrating Shabbat. Judaism, rich in ceremonial observances enacted through halakhah (the law that shows “the way”), employs certain sacred feasting tools for the sake of commemorating religious truths. Objects like the Kiddush cup perpetuate tradition through their artful form and function. The physical nature and spiritual significance of Minnacht’s cup conjure notions of the Sabbath (seventh-day rest) and ofmenuha (the life to come). A Hebrew phrase reading, “Guard the Sabbath day and keep it holy as the Lord God commanded you” is engraved around the cup’s rim, suggesting the holiness of Shabbat. Additionally, and perhaps more importantly in an analytical sense, its octagonal nature seems to represent the idea of menuha, or remaining in God’s presence. An annual “eighth day” holiday in the Jewish tradition that encompasses menuha as an extension of Shabbat is that of Shemini Atzeret, which follows the weeklong “Feast of the Tabernacles” during the season of atonement. The cup in its entirety characterizes Jewish hope found in the present life and in future deliverance. Celebration of this hope in drinking wine from the Kiddush Cup evokes “a delight to the soul and a delight to the body,” to use Heschel’s words in The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man. Participating in the Kiddush ritual reaped a pious pleasure for owners of this cup, a physical and religious nourishment emerging from such holy feasting. Halakhah, expounded through Shabbat (and the usage of the Kiddush cup), led Jewish families to consider menuha and the ultimate abidance in the presence of their God. Reference Heschel, Abraham Joshua. “The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man.” New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1951. Web. 5 Apr. 2015.

by Tommy Moorman Kylix (Drinking cup) with Woman, Bather, Satyr, and Maenad, c. 400 BCE. Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. A kylix is a Greek drinking cup with a wide brim and shallow bowl. The cup stands on a short stem on the bottom, and attached at the sides are two handles. The particular kylix that we are looking at is decorated on the sides and on the inside of the bowl with images of reclining drinkers. Kylices were associated with symposia: occasions where male Greek citizens gathered to drink and be social. The figure in the bowl is playing a favorite game of the symposium, kottabos, in which one flings wine from one’s cup at another person. In ancient Greece, wine and drinking were viewed as evidence of humanity’s capacity for rationality and empathy, as well as for self-destruction. Leon Kass, in his book The Hungry Soul, argues that wine has the capacity to relieve stress and facilitate positive relationships with others, but at the same time brings our latent animalistic tendencies to the surface. The Greeks seem to understand this, as evidenced by the characters in Plato’s symposium. The characters of the play all gather to drink together and bond over the shared enjoyment of wine, yet the wisest of them, Socrates, does not get drunk. Conversely, the drunkest character of the story, Alciabades, makes a fool of himself. The construction and imagery of this kylix displays a friendly attitude towards wine in Greek culture, while the Symposium suggests that the Greeks were aware of the hidden dangers of drinking.

by Abhishek Das Unidentified Artist Chinese, Qianlong reign, 1736 – 1795 Plate with Topographic Views, c. 1745, porcelain Ackland Art Museum, The University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill Gift of Richard D. Pardue, 2011.19 From the period of 1736 to 1795, China was ruled by a dominant leader of Yongzheng descent, named Qianlong. During his reign, China experienced a period of success in various aspects of society, including education, agriculture, politics, and art. Qianlong, as a successful emperor, commissioned hordes of people from China and some from Europe to create art pieces. This heavy artistic influence in China came to life in the form of various sculptures and royal architecture, and other objects, including forms of silverware, plates, fabrics, and other household items, and they were commissioned for both European and Chinese artists. This decoration on this plate appears to be European in style, as we can see from the coat of arms at the bottom of the plate. The image of a coat of arms is directly European, emphasizing the transculturation of European art forms in a Chinese setting. Additionally, the animal image at the top of the plate depicts a banner and lion figure that were consistent with European art in the late Middle Ages. On the sides of the plate, images of Western-style ships crossing a body of water can be representative of Europeans in the process of transculturation as they come to China on ships to bring their forms of art and forms of life. The center of the plate features a largely European landscape, including the terrace images and Gothic architecture that are principally European. This plate is a prime example of the merging of European and Chinese art forms.