Archaeological Views: Going to Pot: The Love-Hate Relationship of an Archaeologist and Her Pottery

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Pottery is both the bane and the blessing of the archaeologist’s work. On the one hand, it is often ubiquitous to the point of uncontrollability; on the other hand, it is this very trait that makes it so valuable for archaeological research. Pottery has played a role in determining just about every facet of archaeological study: chronology, ethnicity, trade, prestige, building function, social complexity, level of technology, gender, age, cultic activity, mortuary beliefs—in short, almost every aspect of human culture and behavior we can imagine. More than any other artifact, pottery tells us how ancient people interacted with their environment and with each other.

From the earliest stage of modern archaeological research, the indestructibility of simple potsherds gave them a role far beyond anything that their makers would have imagined. Ceramic research developed more or less in line with the major theoretical trends in archaeology. The initial stage, beginning in the second half of the 19th century, used pottery as a means of identifying cultures, establishing chronologies and developing models of interregional connections. The equation was “pots equal people,” and pottery became an important part of the culture-historical approach of archaeological analysis. Along with the development of the “New Archaeology” of the 1960s, pottery was viewed as an integral part of social and economic organization, playing a critical role in man’s adaptation to his environment. The equation now became “pots equal tools.” Yet another development, part of the Post-Processualist archaeology movement, attempted to use pottery to understand more abstract aspects of culture, such as individual actions and beliefs. To the other equations, “pots equal symbols” was added.

Most pottery studies today take something from each of these approaches, attempting to use them to understand better the past societies that made, traded, used, broke and discarded these pots. Finely made luxury vessels may catch the eye and certainly play an important role in archaeological research, but, in fact, it is the plain quotidian vessels that have the greatest value for determining not only the time period or region in which they were made, but also the minds and behaviors of the people who made them.

When inundated with the ocean of sherds and vessels that are collected during the average excavation, an archaeologist must decide upon the desired research goal and make a decision as to which approach, or approaches, can be best used to achieve this goal. In many cases, limitations of budget and time (and sometimes, patience) dictate what approach is used. In any pottery study, the multitude of questions that can be asked is always tantalizing, even if the answers are sometimes unattainable. What was the regional distribution of a particular pottery type? How was it conveyed—through trade, gift-giving, maybe as part of a bride’s dowry? Was it a man, woman or even a child who made the vessel, and how did this impact that person’s identity or status within society? Do different types of cooking pots represent different cuisines, or are they signs of different ethnic groups? Was pottery production controlled by a centralized elite authority, or was production spread among simple households? Did having a certain type of jug on her shelf give the Canaanite housewife from Megiddo a higher status than her jealous neighbor? Why were certain vessels deposited in tombs? And were these made special for the burial ritual, or were they everyday vessels? The fascinating questions are countless, and making the mute sherds “talk” can be a real challenge.

In what ways can pottery help the archaeologist gain better insight into the social and ideological past? Some of the answers can be found in the technology of pottery making. While it can be considered a mere technical act, the way pottery is made opens a window onto the people who made and used it. The choices that go into making a pot are virtually endless, and ethnoarchaeological evidence shows that different groups tend to make different choices about how pots are made. A group’s “technological style” serves as a kind of calling card for the archaeologist, a card which, if carefully examined and read, can then be analyzed and interpreted. The type of clay from which a pot was formed, whether it was hand-made or wheel-made, whether it was fired in a pit or kiln, whether it was painted or left plain—all are technological “fingerprints” that represent the individual choices made by the people behind the pots.

Having worked with ancient pottery for the past 20 years, I am constantly amazed by the wealth of 079possibilities these seemingly insignificant pieces of fired clay provide to the archaeologist. It’s difficult to describe the thrill I get from finding the fingerprint of the potter still preserved in the clay, or from noticing the special “trick” the potter used to finish the rim or hide a crack in the base. You can feel her pride in her craft, or her disappointment at failure. Sometimes, I even feel like I can “see” the woman who used a cooking pot, the child who drank from a flask or the soldier who smashed a jar.

Although there are many venerable male pottery researchers, it is interesting how many pottery studies in Israel are conducted by women. When faced with the vast data that accumulate in an excavation, there is a tendency for men to prefer to analyze architecture, stratigraphy and special finds, while women are often left “doing the dishes.” Gender stereotypes aside, it seems to me that women often simply have personality traits that are better suited for the study of pottery, namely patience, thoroughness and empathy. Much of the ancient pottery of the Bronze and Iron Ages in Israel was made by women. It is fitting that it is mostly women who study and bring that pottery back to life for us today.

Pottery is both the bane and the blessing of the archaeologist’s work. On the one hand, it is often ubiquitous to the point of uncontrollability; on the other hand, it is this very trait that makes it so valuable for archaeological research. Pottery has played a role in determining just about every facet of archaeological study: chronology, ethnicity, trade, prestige, building function, social complexity, level of technology, gender, age, cultic activity, mortuary beliefs—in short, almost every aspect of human culture and behavior we can imagine. More than any other artifact, pottery tells us how ancient people interacted with their […]