Designers of an Empire

Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte died 200 years ago last week. He is one of few military leaders who left an artistic legacy that is recognisable and influential, the Empire Style. But he didn’t create it himself. It was crested for him by a couple of French architects and designers who are regarded by many as the original gay designer couple. I mentioned them only briefly in my recent Flower Power article “A Divine Headdress”. They are Charles Percier (1764-1838) and Pierre Fontaine (1762-1853).

Pierre Fontaine was the elder and longest lived of the two. He was born in Pontoise, to the north-west of Paris, into a middle-class family of architects and designers. His father, also called Pierre, was the engineer of the fountains and hydraulic system at the Château de L’Isle-Adam, home of the Prince of Conti (grandson of the Prince of Conti who was elected King of Poland-Lithuania).

Young Pierre was 16 years old when he went with his father to work at the chateau, which was just 10 kilometres from Pontoise. Pierre’s keen interest and natural ability at architecture was noticed by the chief architect of the fountain project and he helped to expand Pierre’s experience by allowing him to copy some of the designs and to join the workmen in the construction work.

In 1779 Pierre went to Paris to study at the Académie Royale d’Architecture. Pierre came second in the Prix de Rome in 1785. This was a competition for the Académie students which offered a five-year scholarship in Rome to the winner. Although he didn’t win in 1785 Pierre was awarded the scholarship in 1787 when the awarding of that year’s prize was delayed. Interestingly, his design that can second was for a sepulchral monument for the kings of France (below). It was influenced by the design for Isaac Newton’s cenotaph, about which I wrote in March.

It was while Pierre was at the Académie that he met Charles Percier who went on to win the Prix de Rome in 1786, the year between Pierre coming second and him being awarded the Rome scholarship.

Charles Percier had a very different upbringing to that of Pierre Fontaine. His mother Marie-Jeanne was a seamstress and laundrywoman and his father Denis was a gate-keeper, but Charles’ childhood was anything but typically working-class. Both of his parents worked for the French royal family. His mother worked for Queen Marie Antoinette and his father worked at the moat bridge near the Tuileries, the palace in Paris.

Charles, like Pierre, showed artistic talents as a child. He could draw the uniforms of the palace guards and soldiers in perfect detail, and he was soon put into the classes of the palace art tutor. This led to him being enrolled into the Ecole Royales Gratuite de Desins at the age of just 7. This was a free school for children from modest or poor backgrounds who had a shown clear aptitude for art and design. Charles soon gained a reputation as a skilled draftsman, even before he entered the Académie Royale d’Architecture at the age of 15.

Even though Percier and Fontaine, as the duo later became known, as if a single entity, met at the Académie it was only when they both began studying in Rome that they started working together. They shared a studio and travelled around the region concentrating on the classical architecture. The neo-classical style was all the rage in Europe and Percier and Fontaine would go on to develop it further. They were so inseparable that fellow students called them “the Two Etruscans”, the Etruscans being the civilisation that evolved into ancient Roman.

Percier and Fontaine made a pact in Rome based on mutual respect and confidence. They pledged to stay single and never marry. It is this pact that forms the basis of the idea that they were, or became, a “gay” couple as we would recognise today.

All was going well in Rome. Then in 1789 the French Revolution threw Fontaine’s life into turmoil. His parents, both reliant on royal employment, were out of work and penniless. Fontaine returned to Paris to try to support them. Percier remained in Rome, but soon hostility towards the French forced him to return to Paris also and he moved in with Fontaine.

Their architectural designs kept them employed until 1792 when Percier was offered the job of scenery designer and supervisor at the Paris Opera. Fontaine, who had recently moved to England to get away from the Revolution, was brought back to France by Percier who insisted that if he was to take the post at the Paris Opera then Fontaine must be appointed with him.

During their four years at the opera Percier and Fontaine continued to work of other projects. This brought them to the attention of one of their neighbours, none other than Josephine Bonaparte, the wife of Napoleon (who had yet to be declared emperor). Together, Percier and Fontaine were engaged to work on Josephine’s residence, the Château de Malmaison outside Paris.

At the start of the project they met Napoleon himself. Napoleon soon became a huge fan of their work and employed them to redecorate the Hôtel des Invalides, a veteran’s home that had been damaged during the Revolution. The success of both projects led Napoleon to appoint Fontaine as official government architect. In a reciprocal manner to the opera position Fontaine said he wouldn’t do it unless Percier was appointed with him.

Between 1801 and 1814, when the post of government architect was abolished and the post of Paris city architect was created, Percier and Fontaine worked on most of the famous buildings that are still familiar to us today – the Louvre, Fontainbleau, Versailles, the Élysée Palace and the Tuileries.

Napoleon dismissed Percier in 1804, which upset and offended Fontaine, but the two continued to work together and Percier was also able to pursue other projects.

Although Fontaine kept to the pact he and Percier made in Rome to remain unmarried he fathered an illegitimate daughter by Sophie Depuis, an artist he and Percier employed to colour the illustrated plates of one of the books they wrote on architecture.

Charles Percier died in 1838 and left Fontaine grief-stricken. Fontaine continued to work as Paris city architect and interior designer at the Louvre and Tuileries until he resigned at the age of 86. He was buried with Percier and another close associate, Clarles-Louis Bernier (1755-1830), who worked with them at the Paris Opera and the Louvre. Their joint grave monument was designed by Fontaine.

Percier and Fontaine perfected the artistic style that became known to us as Empire Style. Evolving from the previously popular Directoire and Ne-Classical styles it became very distinctive. Even when Egyptian elements crept in, Empire Style remained the style that defined the Napoleonic era.

Flower Power: A Divine Headdress

There are many flowers and plants that have influenced art and decoration. A lot of them appear because they are sacred or symbolic. Two that are both are the lotus and the papyrus.

There are several species of lotus, often confusingly referred to by the name of a different plant, the water-lily, and they feature significantly with the papyrus in the art of Egypt and Asia. The white and blue lotus have particular significance in ancient Egypt.

It is believed that the Egyptians were the first to turn floristry into a profession. They made garlands and arrangements for banquets and rituals, processions and burials. The lotus and papyrus figured prominently, thought the lotus was the most sacred flower in their religion.

The lotus features in the creation myths. A giant lotus was said to emerge from the muddy waters of the Nile before time began. From it rose the sun, Ra, creating the first day. The association with the Nile, where it grew in abundance, gave rise to the flower’s representation as a symbol of life, regeneration and fertility. If it wasn’t for the Nile ancient Egypt would not have existed. More specifically, it was the annual Nile floods that washed over the surrounding lands.

The ancient Egyptians created an annual festival to celebrate these floods. It is still a holiday today called Wafaa El-Nil. I wrote about this festival in August 2018 and explained how the floods were given their own god, Hapi.

Because ancient Egypt and the Nile were divided into Upper Egypt/Nile and Lower Egypt/Nile Hapi became a dual deity, both aspects represented as both male and female. His Upper Egypt/Nile name was Hapi-Meht and his Lower Egypt/Nile name was Hapi-Reset. In my 2018 article I also mentioned that each Hapi had a headdress made of his sacred plants. Hapi-Meht wore a headdress of lotus flowers and Hapi-Reset had a headdress of papyrus fronds. Sometimes both Hapis are depicted together, as in the picture below which I used in my article on the Nile floods. Hapi-Meht is on the right and Hapi-Reset is on the left. They are tying their symbolic plants to the Nile represented by the upright bar.

The lotus and papyrus both became major elements in Egyptian architecture. Most of the huge columns you can still see at sites like Luxor are stylised bundles of lotus and papyrus stalks. At the top of the columns are stylised lotus flowers and papyrus fronds. These types of column have their own architectural names – lotiform and papyriform. Hapi’s lotus was used more often than papyrus in wall decoration and furniture. They became the archetypal Egyptian design element.

In the late 18th century ancient Egypt became popular among the nations of Western Europe. The Napoleonic Wars had spread to Egypt and the famous Battle of the Nile in 1798 made people like Horatio Nelson national heroes. Napoleon in particular is responsible for the first Egyptian Revival in art by instructing a scientific expedition to draw and paint everything they saw, including wall painting and hieroglyphics. When the drawings arrived back in France and were published they cause a sensation. It was just the sort of decoration people were wanting to replace the tired old neo-classicism that had dominated the century.

This Egyptian Revival outlived the short Empire Style, the mixture of neo-classicism and Egyptian design created by (the probably gay couple) Charles Perrier and Pierre Fontaine. The lotus and papyrus were used in both styles. The Egyptian Revival spread across Europe and the Atlantic to America and for several decades Egyptian architecture was more popular than classical Greek and Roman.

Gradually tastes began to change again and Egpyt lost its appeal. But it re-emerged in spectacular style with the discovery of King Tutankhamun’s tomb in 1922 sparking off the Second Egyptian Revival, again in France. This time another art style was becoming popular and the revival merged seamlessly into it. That style was later called Art Deco.

The simple shapes and outlines of Art Deco seemed to be perfect for the stylised lotus and papyrus designs from ancient Egyptian. The result was some of the most iconic buildings, decorations, furniture and jewellery produced during the 1920 and 30s. It even influence film and theatre. Hapi’s sacred plants became a common source for Art Deco design. The whole Art Deco-Second Egyptian Revival can be represented perfectly in the image below of the papyrus-inspired elevator doors in the Chrysler Building in New York.

Hapi and the other Egyptian gods and deities have rarely been used as design elements but Hapi’s sacred plants, the lotus and papyrus, have become familiar to the modern world through Napoleon’s invasion of Egypt and Tutankhamun’s tomb.

A Star-Gayzing Cenotaph

On this day in 1727 (in the Julian calendar that was in use in England at that time) Sir Isaac Newton died. Some of you, like myself, may have seen his tomb in Westminster Abbey, London, but if a French architect called Étienne-Louis Boullée (1728-1799) had got his way Newton would also be commemorated in a colossal 150 meter (492 feet) diameter spherical cenotaph in Paris. I’m glad I haven’t decided to publish this article tomorrow, April Fool’s Day, because you’d probably think it was a hoax.

First of all, let’s get Newton’s sexuality out of the way. In 2013 I wrote about Newton’s probable place on the lgbt spectrum (very apt description bearing in mind his work on the spectrum and rainbows). Very little information is available to say for sure how Newton would have identified his sexuality, assuming he ever thought about it. Thinking about it and labelling it seems to be a very modern thing to do. In 2013 I was content, and still am, to place him in our modern “queer” category without putting any other modern gender or sexuality label upon him. No doubt historians and scientists will be debating the subject for centuries.

As far as Newton’s scientific reputation is concerned there is no doubt. He was hailed as a champion of reason over superstition, which is ironic because he believed in astrology and witchcraft (not the modern Wiccan faith which didn’t exist in his day). After his death many architects and artists began designing tombs and monuments for him. Only Westminster Abbey was deemed appropriate for his official state tomb.

The Westminster tomb and the other un-built monuments emphasised Newton’s contribution to science, which was invariably illustrated with images of ancient Greek gods and religious symbolism. The colossal design by Étienne-Louis Boullée in 1784 did away with most of this un-scientific and superstitious decoration (except for thousands of cypress trees, symbols of mourning in the ancient Greek religion). The design used simple shapes, primarily the sphere. Below is one of Boullée’s drawings.

In the words of Dr. Patricia Ricci, Associate Professor of the History of Art and Director of the Department of Fine Art at Elizabethtown College, Pennsylvania, “Its controversial theme, enormous size, and innovative design doomed the project from the start.” If it had been built it would have been the tallest building in the world at 150 meters (480 feet) tall, about 8 meters (26 feet) taller than the then record holder, Strasbourg cathedral.

The main feature of the cenotaph was the 150 meter sphere. Visitors would have entered the building at ground level and walk up a large staircase into a tunnel that led right into the centre of the structure. There visitors would be surrounded by the huge hollow interior. If visiting during the daytime people would see the whole surface of the sphere around them display an accurate portrayal of the stars and constellations. This was achieved by each star being a hole in the sphere where sunlight shone through. At night-time the interior was lit by a huge lantern inside an armillary sphere at the very centre.

You could say that this cenotaph was the largest planetarium ever designed, though no planets were represented within it and it was static. Speaking of planetaria, even though Boullée’s design never got off the page it inspired the design of a real modern-day planetarium, the Hayden Planetarium at the Rose Center for Earth and Space in New York, part of the American Museum of Natural History. The Hayden Planetarium was built in 2000 and is 27 meters (87 feet) high.

The Hayden Planetarium

Even it we cannot say exactly if Sir Isaac Newton would identify himself on the lgbt spectrum, his unbuilt cenotaph has indirect links to modern lgbt astronomers thought the Hayden Planetarium. The Associate Director is Brian Abbott who does talks and presentations there. The planetarium currently has a writer-in-residence, the gay British playwright Stephen Laughton. He is working with Dr. Rebecca Oppenheimer, Curator of the Department of Astrophysics at the American Museum of Natural History, a planet-hunter and discoverer of the first brown dwarf star. They are researching and collaborating in the development of a new play.

Finally, if Boullée had been able to build Newton’s cenotaph it may have been located where the Eiffel Tower is today. Below is an artist’s impression of how it would look if you could visit it.

I’m going to have a few days break for the Easter holidays. I’ll be back on April 10th when we’ll be looking at how a floral headdress inspired Napoleon and the art deco movement.

The 2 Billion Dollar Funeral

Could this have been the most expensive funeral in history? I haven’t looked closely at all the funerals of all the heads of world powers (i.e. Russian tsars, Egyptian pharaohs, etc.) but I suspect their costs would reach into the millions. The funeral we look at today cost billions, and it’s the funeral of Alexander the Great’s male lover/companion, Hephaestion.

Some historians doubt there was a sexual relationship between Alexander and Hephaestion. They both grew up in societies where same-sex activity was a part of their youth and it is certain they both would have participated willingly in it. But we’ll leave that debate for another time. There is no doubt that their friendship was strong enough for Alexander the Great to organise a funeral for Hephaestion that was more spectacular than his own father’s, which was spectacular enough. As the Greek historian Diodorus Siculus wrote in his 1st century BC: “He showed such zeal about the funeral that it not only surpassed all those previously celebrated on earth but also left no possibility for anything greater in later years”.

There’s one slight problem with Diodorus’ statement. He wrote it two centuries after Hephaestion’s funeral took place. He was copying earlier, now lost, sources. The earliest known account is by a contemporary of Alexander’s called Cleitarchus. However, Cleitarchus was a bit of a sensationalist and historians believe most of the events his included in his biography of Alexander were over-embellished. Having said that, there’s nothing to indicate that Cleitarchus was making it up.

Depending on which ancient historian you read a total of between 10,000 and 12,000 talents were spent on the funeral. Estimates put this as equivalent today of between 2 and 3 billion US dollars. Not all of this came out of Alexander’s own “pocket”. He sent messengers to every city in his conquered territories of Persia requesting them to send as much money as they could to help give Hephaestion the send-off he thought he deserved. The cities seemed to have had no problem with this and responded enthusiastically and generously.

At the same time Alexander ordered that all sacred fires should be put out in Persia until after the funeral. This was a custom when a Persian king died, which gives another indication of Alexander’s feelings for Hephaestion.

Now that the financing had been arranged Alexander began panning the funeral itself. As Diodorus wrote (in the quote given above) he threw himself into the arrangements with zeal. A couple of years ago I mentioned that the ancient Greeks often celebrated someone’s death with funeral games – athletics and sport. The funeral games in honour of Hephaestion were held in Ecbatana, the city in which he died in October 324 BC. During this time a huge funeral procession was being gathered and Hephaestion’s body was being prepared and embalmed. When the games were over the funeral procession made its way to Babylon City.

The huge procession arrived, perhaps around what our modern calendar would call New Year. The funeral pyre on which Hephaestion’s body would be burned was still under construction. It was massive. Alexander had chosen an architect called Stasicrates (sometimes called Cheirocrates and Dinocrates) to design and build the pyre. Stasicrates was well-known for laying out the plan of Alexandria in Egypt, reconstructing the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus (turning it into one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World), and he even planned to carve a huge statue of Alexander the Great into the side of Mount Athos until Alexander himself objected. So, you can see what sort of funeral pyre Stasicrates was likely to come up with, and he didn’t disappoint.

Stasicrates’ plans were so big that he needed to knock down about a kilometre of the city walls to make enough room for it and the surrounding “spectator” area. The pyre itself was a square structure, each side being about 180 meters (590 feet) in length. On top of that were five more square structures, one on top of the other like a ziggurat, a stepped pyramid. When complete the structure was said to have been 58 meters (193 feet) tall.

Each side of the pyre was richly decorated in statues and sculptures made from wood and clay. Most of these were painted and gilded so that the whole thing shone and gleamed in the daylight. All around the ground floor were carved 240 life-size ships’ prows with statues of archers and armed men on the decks.

On the level above torches about 8 meters (26 feet) tall were attached to the walls, with golden wreaths around their handles, snakes coiled around the base of each one, and huge eagles with outstretched wings hovering over them.

On the next level up were carved animals representing a wild hunt.

On the next level was a scene representing a legendary battle between the centaurs and a tribe called the Lapiths. All of which was covered in gold.

The penultimate level also had gold statues – bulls alternating with lions.

Around the top level were arms and armour of the Greek and Persian armies.

Right on top were statues of sirens. These were hollow to allow the attendants who sang the funerary laments to stand inside. No doubt there were ladders running up through the whole structure for them to get up and down before the whole thing was set on fire.

None of the ancient sources say that the pyre was actually lit, and several modern historians, including the eminent ancient historian Robin Lane-Fox, doubt the funeral ever took place as planned. However, back in 1904 the archaeologist Robert Koldeway uncovered areas of burnt ground among the ruins of Babylon. This, he theorised, might have been the site of the pyre and that the funeral took place as intended.

After the pyre had been extinguished Hephaestion’s remains were placed in a magnificent tomb. The mystery is where? No-one is sure, but we do know that Alexander the Great had little time to continue to mourn for his lover as he himself died a couple of months after the pyre was built. Some archaeologists have suggested that Hephaestion’s tomb is in Greece.

The image at the top shows an artist’s impression of what Hephaestion’s funeral pyre might have looked like. It was painted around 1900 by F. Buracz and Franz Jeffe. Even though it was a temporary structure it would have been a magnificent sight, situated on the banks of the River Euphrates in the shadow of the famous Wonder, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon (though some historians doubt the Gardens existed in the form most popularly imagined).

In an age long before inner-city skyscrapers any structure towering as high as Hephaestion’s pyre would have struck awe into the Babylonians, It could easily be called the 8th Wonder of the Ancient World.

The Godmother of Egyptology

Today is International Archaeology Day. Arguably the most influential archaeological subject is Egyptology. The names of ancient pharaohs and gods are household names. It has influenced everything from Napoleonic furniture to Hallowe’en costumes. Hundreds of films and books based on ancient Egypt are highly popular.

Last Hallowe’en I revealed how the curse of the Egyptian mummy was created by the most popular Victorian novelist, the bisexual Maria Correlli (1855-1924). The establishing of Egyptology as a separate science owes a great deal to another Victorian queer novelist, the openly lesbian Amelia Edwards (1831-1892).

Amelia Ann Blanford Edwards was the only child of Thomas and Alicia Edwards, a retired army officer and the daughter of an Irish barrister. Amelia was home-schooled by her mother and governesses and was a prodigious child, writing poetry and stories before she was 14 years old. She was also a very talented artist, a skill she would later utilise to illustrate her popular travel books.

Amelia’s popularity as a writer began long before her interest in Egyptology. Her fiction – novels and short stories – made her a celebrity to rival Maria Correlli (both outsold Charles Dickens). I’ll return to Amelia’s fiction writing in December, specifically her ghost stories, but for today let’s concentrate on her “Egyptian period”.

Amelia came from an era and social background in which well-educated, reasonably well-off ladies like herself would travel around Europe with a female companion. One year, 1873, she and a companion were in France during a particularly miserable wet summer, so they decided to head south to warmer climes and Egypt. Amelia was instantly entranced by the whole Egyptian culture. She sailed up the Nile with a group of fellow travellers to Abu Simbel (in its original location before being relocated block by block in the 1960s).

Amelia discovered a small chamber buried in the sand and proceeded to records its contents and draw the vivid wall paintings in her sketch book. Amelia wrote up her Egyptian experiences in published them in “A Thousands Miles Up the Nile” in 1877, containing many of her own drawings, including the one below of Abu Simbel. This book is probably the biggest best-seller she ever wrote.

As with the majority of European travellers to Egypt Amelia collected and bought many ancient artefacts, including several mummified hands. It wasn’t long, however, before she realised the danger of this popular “hobby”. In her book she wrote that many Egyptian site were being spoiled or destroyed by the actions of travellers and tourists and the neglect of local authorities.

At that time in Egypt’s history the country was in economic decline and couldn’t afford to pay for serious excavations and research. In 1882 Amelia banded together with Reginald Stewart Poole, the Curator of Coins and Medals at the British Museum, to found the Egypt Exploration Fund. Both were elected honorary joint secretaries. Donations trickled in and by January 1883 the fund was able to send its first expedition to Egypt.

One of the archaeologists to benefit from the Fund was Flinders Petrie, who would go on to become Britain’s greatest Egyptologist and founder of modern archaeological methods. He and Amelia became firm friends and in her will Amelia ensured that Petrie would be the first person to be appointed the first ever Professor of Egyptology.

The appointment has a very interesting back story. Amelia, being a woman in Victorian England, found it difficult to get support from the male-dominated academic and scientific establishment. She got no help from the British Museum other than the voluntary assistance from Reginald Poole. At the time of her death University College London was the only institution which offered and gave the same degrees to woman as it did to men. Amelia laid down in her will that £2,500 should go towards setting up a chair in Egyptology there – as long as it wasn’t held by anyone from the British Museum. Shortly before her death, when she became seriously ill, she added a clause stipulating that the post should not go to anyone over the age of 40. Flinders Petrie was 39 and the only experienced archaeologist who fit the criteria.

Apart from being hugely popular for her Egyptology, travel writing and ghost stories Amelia also enjoyed an equally hugely successful lecture tour of the USA in 1889-90. This raised a lot of money for the Egypt Exploration Fund.

Amelia spent her last years in a little village called Westbury-on-Trym with her partner and companion Ellen Drew Braysher (1804-1892). They were buried together in Henbury near Bristol, their graves later being designated Grade II listed status. Historic England, the country’s leading heritage organisation, placed the grave on their Pride of Place list of significant lgbt sites in 2016.

As well as leaving £2,500 to University College London for the chair in Egyptology Amelia also left them her personal collection of artefacts and library. They formed the basis of what is now called the Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology. Obviously, it is named after Flinders Petrie, or Sir Flinders Petrie as he became, but the museum would not exist at all if Amelia Edwards hadn’t given her collection to found it. It annoys me that the museum isn’t named after her.

The Petrie Museum has long been a place I have wanted to visit. Back in 2010 it produced a special museum trail called “Beyond Isis and Osiris: Alternate Sexualities in Ancient Egypt”. Although comparatively small in area the museum has thousands of items on display and the trail picked out 14 of them that illustrate the variety of sexual and gender attitudes among the Egyptians, from their ancient gods to Alexander the Great.

The trail originated in a series of talks given in February 2008 for LGBT History Month UK by John J. Johnston, who was a teaching assistant at University College London while studying there for a PhD in Egyptology. The talks proved so popular that Johnston formed them into the “Beyond Isis and Osiris” trail. Below is a video of Johnston talking about his trai. Johnston became Vice-Chair of the Egypt Exploration Society (to which the Egypt Exploration Fund had been renamed in 1919) shortly afterwards and held the position until 2015.

Perhaps when covid restrictions are lifted and we can move around freely once more I’ll finally make it down to London and visit the museum founded by Amelia Edwards, the woman known as the Godmother of Egyptology.

80 More Gays Around the World: 3) Greek Wonders

Last time on “80 More Gays”: 4) Sir Frederick Ashton (1904-1988) left the fights and royalties to his ballet “Les Patineurs” to 5) Brian Shaw (1928-1992), for whom Ashton created a role in a ballet based on the life of 6) Tiresias, who was blinded by 7) Athena.

One of the variations in the myths of 6) Tiresias is that 7) Athena blinded him as punishment for accidentally seeing her bathe naked. This seems to have been first written down by the poet Pherecydes in the 450s BC.

Both Tiresias and Athena also appear in the epic poem “The Odyssey” by Homer, both taking on the role of advisor to Odysseus. Tiresias appears when Odysseus summons up the spirits of the dead in the hope that they may provide directions to get him back home. He had been advised that he must not speak to any ghost, even that of his mother, until he had spoken to the spirit of Tiresias first.

Tiresias explains to Odysseus that his difficult journey home was being manipulated by the god Poseidon as punishment for blinding his Cyclops son. He offers advice on how to tackle future dangers and warns Odysseus of the difficult affairs back home with the many unwanted suitors of his wife Penelope.

Athena was also keen to advise Odysseus, as well as his son Telemachus. On several occasions she appeared to them in the form of a man. The Greek gods were frequent shape-shifters. Only on very rare occasions did they change gender temporarily. This is in contrast to several Asian deities whose transgender manifestations tend to be permanent.

Athena’s transformation was to disguise her identity rather than as an expression of her sexuality. She chose to appear in the form of one specific person, a friend of Odysseus called Mentor. The two friends had served in the army together, and when Odysseus went off to fight in the Trojan War he left Mentor to watch over his palace, his wife Penelope and is son Telemachus.

Whether the real Mentor was any good as a guardian is uncertain, but it was Athena in his form who encouraged Telemachus to stand up to his mother’s unwanted suitors. She, as Mentor, also suggested to Telemachus that he should find out what had really happened to his father.

The role of Athena as Mentor came to be regarded as a model for the type of personal advisor that now bears his name. I wonder how many people who regard themselves as a mentor realise they are following in the footsteps of female deity who transformed herself into a man for the purpose.

Athena also had an important influence as the patron of the city of Athens. A legend tells how the founder of the city, rather unusually, didn’t name it after himself but said it would be named after the god who gave the city the best gift. Athena and Poseidon stepped up to the challenge. Poseidon hit the ground with his trident and produced a never-ending supply of water – salt water. Other myths say he created the first horse. Athena, on the other hand, created the first olive tree. The citizens chose the olive tree as the best gift and named their city Athens.

Athens is the home to one of the most magnificent temple sites in ancient Greece dedicated to Athens, and the most famous. The Parthenon stands proudly on top of the Acropolis and had several huge statues of Athena which have long since been destroyed. At least three statues of Athena were made by the same artist, 8) Phidias (living 5th century BC), often stated to have been the greatest sculptor in ancient Greece, and the man who created a style that is still being copied in modern buildings.

Phidias acted as chief architect and designer of the temple complex on the Acropolis. It is his most famous work, but another work that has also long since been destroyed, earned a spot on the famous list of the Seven Wonders of the World. This was another massive statue, this time to Zeus, in the temple at Olympia where the ancient Olympics took place. During my 2012 Olympic Countdown series I wrote about this statue and the fact that Phidias carved a little inscription onto it saying “Pantarkes is gorgeous”. Pantarkes was one of Phidias’s apprentices, aged around 12, who was also his eromenos – boy lover. Pantarkes was also the boys wrestling champion at the Olympic Games of 436 BC, the year before Phidias completed his statue of Zeus.

Today the Seven Wonders are well-known. Before Phidias’s day, however, only three of the Wonders on the traditional list were in existence – the Great Pyramid at Giza, the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and the Temple of Artemis at Ephesus. No-one listed any Wonders until over 300 years after Phidias died and there was never any consensus of what went on the list until the Renaissance and the invention of printing and the spread of printed books. There may easily be some long lost list of Ancient Wonders that included Phidias’s temple complex on the Acropolis and its huge statues in addition to his statue of Zeus.

Some ancient writers, however, didn’t share the view that these structures were anything to wonder at. They regarded them as evidence of the tyranny of rulers. One of these writers was the famous Aristotle. He criticised the construction of all huge monuments and buildings, even temples, because their construction meant taxing the citizens to pay for them. That’s not entirely true and Aristotle is over-simplifying the motives of the rulers who constructed them. But it’s a criticism that is still often levelled in modern times when new, big construction projects begin.

Among the structures Aristotle criticised were the pyramids, the monuments in Corinth and the statue of Zeus in Athens (not the same at the statue at Olympia by Phidias), among others. Aristotle singled out one tyrant by name in his list, 9) Polycrates of Samos (d.522 BC).

Next time of “80 More Gays”: We develop a psychological complex and visit the opera to see the revival of an ancient king.

Saving the Nation's Heritage

The UK is celebrating its annual Heritage Open Days this weekend. This is an occasion where historic sites who normally charge an entrance fee, or are in private ownership and not open to the public, open their doors free to all visitors.

Unfortunately, there are many sites that have long been demolished. An example of this is my own Nottinghamshire, Clumber House. This was the main country residence of the Dukes of Newcastle. Lord Arthur Pelham-Clinton, son of the 5th Duke, lived there for a time.

The 1930s in the UK saw a change in the fortunes of the landed gentry and aristocracy. Many men from these families had been killed in World War I and left estates with no-one to inherit them. Various death duties and inheritance taxes rose astronomically and people who inherited a stately home couldn’t afford to keep them. That’s what happened to Clumber. The Duke of Newcastle couldn’t afford to keep the house so he had it demolished in 1938. Fortunately, the chapel, stables, stately entrance gates and the longest lime tree avenue in Europe survive, as do the extensive grounds, and they form the present Clumber Park. My family spent many happy days out at Clumber Park when I was young, and my sister worked in the garden nursery for a few years. We are also fortunate in having lots of photographs of both the inside and outside of Clumber House, so it’s possible to create a scale model, as you see in the video below.

Many more stately homes were demolished in the early 20th century. Thankfully a lot have survived and most are in public ownership, either with the National Trust or English heritage, or belong to charitable trusts. Many people have had pivotal roles in the preservation of these buildings, and of many, more ordinary buildings. Here are two men from the lgbt community who are celebrated as saviours of our nation’s heritage.

First of all there is James Lees-Milne (1908-1997). He was an architectural historian who has been described by Hugh Montgomery Massingberd, a renowned historian and genealogist, as the man who “almost single-handedly saved what we now take for granted as the national heritage”.

James was himself a member of the landed gentry, the son of a self-made cotton baron who bought Wickfordham Manor in Worcestershire which James inherited in 1949. After graduating from Oxford with a history degree (and a string of gay lovers, including the young John Gielgud), James went to work as political campaigner for his relative Sir Oswald Mosley. During that time James met another lover, Harold Nicolson of Sissinghurst. It was Harold who was instrumental in getting James a job at the National Trust.

The National Trust was formed in 1895. Its main focus was on preserving open spaces and parkland. In 1936 they formed the Country Houses Committee which aimed to preserve buildings as well, and James Lees-Milne was appointed at is first secretary. With his family, social and sexual connections he got to visit many private stately homes. From the moment he took up his post James embarked on a mission to save as many building from demolition as possible. He was too late to save Clumber House. He hoped to persuade owners to donate their houses to the National Trust when they inherited them, free of any death duties.

There were successes and losses. He was unable to persuade the Marquess of Bath to donate Longleat House to the Trust, but years later the Marquess’s son opened the house to the public in 1949.

One of James’s successes was Cliveden House, which is now a National Trust hotel. Also, like a lot of other stately homes around the country, whether owned by the National Trust or not, Cliveden has been used as the setting for films and television dramas. My favourite use of Cliveden is in “Carry On, Don’t Lose Your Head”.

But heritage is more than stately homes. Even as James Lees-Milne has been credited with saving hundreds of stately homes from the bulldozer there are other people who were looking at urban and ordinary buildings. One of these men died just a few weeks ago and he has been credited with helping to save the urban landscape of Georgian London.

Colin Amery (1944-2018) was also an architectural historian. He held many appointments, including being an advisor to the Prince of Wales and Director of the World Monuments Fund in Britain. Colin’s career began with the Town and Country Planning Association, from which he progressed to being an editor of the “Architectural Review” and a prolific writer of ooks on architecture.

Activism was also one of Colin Amery’s fortes. During the 1960s and 1970s towns and cities across the UK were demolishing large areas of “old” buildings to make way for redevelopment and new concrete block buildings. Colin was appalled at the loss of many perfectly good pre-modern buildings. In London’s East End Colin joined other leading architectural historians in campaigning against redevelopment of the historic Spitalfields area.

Colin co-founded the Spitalfields Historic Buildings Trust. In 1977 he joined a sit-in at two 18th-century weavers’ houses and saved them from demolition. In 1981 he joined another sit-in at a Flemish-style building in Spital Square. Other buildings were saved and Spitalfields is now seen having one of the most significant collection of Georgian houses in Greater London, saving the architectural past of the weaving industry for future generations.

Colin was also keen to renovate buildings for himself, which was the reason he appeared in a television series called “Location, Location, Location” in September 2012. The premise of the programme is to take a couple who wish to move house and take them round three other houses selected by the programme’s presenters. The couple then had to chose one to buy, or not, if they don’t like any of them.

Colin Amery and his partner Robin Balance had lived apart for a few years and decided to buy a new house together which they could live in and renovate. Colin and Robin didn’t feel any of the houses the programme’s presenters selected in Cuckfield, Surrey, were what they were looking for. Fortunately, they found another house themselves and moved in. They married in 2014.

Many more people have helped to maintain the UK’s heritage. Whether historians, landowners, members of the public donating to charity, or the Heritage Lottery Fund, there is so much around us that people regard as worthy of keeping. Sites important to the lgbt community are no exception. They have joined thousands of other sites to which the governments in the UK and USA have given special protected status. The Stonewall Inn in New York received protected status a few years ago, and so are a couple of historic gay pubs in London.

Even though the Heritage Open Days are free to the public let’s hope that a new generation, or even an older one, can see hidden parts of our heritage that are worth saving and which remind us all that the past is the only way we have got to the present.

Around the World in Another 80 Gays : Part 24) Stressed-out in the Park

In the previous “Another 80 Gays” : 48) Vaclav Fiscer (b.1954) and 49) Sir Michael Bishop, Lord Glendonbrook (b.1942) were airline bosses who sold their companies to Lufthansa, whose Senior Vice President, 50) Sadiq Gillani, previously worked for an airline in Rio where Lufhansa re-opened their routes to fly athletes to the 2016 Olympics, some of them competing in Flamengo Park, designed by 51) Lota de Macedo Soares (1910-1967).

Flamengo Park, one of its several alternative names, is Rio de Janeiro’s largest public park. It incorporates many sporting areas, gardens, a museum, an art gallery and a beach along Guanabara Bay in the shadow of Sugarloaf Mountain. In 2012 it became a UNESCO World Heritage site. In 1960 the site was just a huge landfill area. It was where several hills had been flattened and the soil dumped along the bay in order to construct the ever-growing road network.

The Governor of Guanabara State, Carlos Lacerda, had embarked on a programme of urban regeneration. Almost immediately on taking up office he appointed 51) Lota de Macedo Soares to his administration. Lota was known as an influential figure in local architecture and design, even though she had no formal training. She had worked with one of Rio’s leading architects and was virtually self-taught. What Lota was especially good at was coming up with an idea, a design, and assembling a team of other designers, architects and builders to bring her vision to reality.

Governor Lacerda asked her what ideas she had for improving Rio’s less developed areas. The story goes that Lota was with the governor in his apartment when asked this. She pointed straight out of the window to the landfill area along the bay and said “Give me that and I’ll turn it into Central Park” (referring to New York’s Central Park, of course).

And so it was that Flamengo Park came into being. After designing the whole park Lota gathered around her a group of top architects, builders and landscape designers to put the fine details onto her plans. Among the design elements was an airport and the planting of over 11 thousand trees. Below is a Youtube video of a drone flight over Flamengo Park filmed in November 2016. It gives you a good idea of just how big the park is.

However good Lota’s vision and organisational skills may have been she was not a politician, and Governor Lacerda soon had other matters to deal with, leaving Lota to deal with the Rio city bureaucracy on her own.

Fortunately, in her private life Lota was not on her own, though she was not without her share of stress. In 1951 she met and fell in love with an American, 52) Elizabeth Bishop (1911-1979). The two met during Elizabeth’s travels around the world. She had only intended to stay in Rio for a couple of weeks and ended up staying for fifteen years.

When the two met Elizabeth was a well-known poet in the US. She had only published one book of poetry, “North and South” published in 1946 (though she had other poems published in student magazines when she was a university). Elizabeth found Brazil fascinating and began to study Latin-American literature and her was later was influenced by its poets. The first published work after moving to Rio was a “sequel” to “North and South” called “Poems: North and South – A Cold Spring”, published in 1955. The following year it won the Pulitzer Prize for poetry.

The Flamengo Park project dominated Lota’s life when it began in 1960. She spent a lot of time personally supervising the work but Elizabeth didn’t really like Rio city centre and remained in their Lota-designed home about an hour’s drive away. Despite her happiness Elizabeth was prone to alcoholic binges that put a strain on the relationship. Another was the stress Lota felt over her battles with Rio bureaucracy. Both problems were to lead to Lota’s bouts of depression.

In 1966 Elizabeth took up a post as Writer in Residence at the University of Washington in Seattle. To ease her loneliness she began a relationship with another woman. After Elizabeth returned to Brazil Lota found out and their relationship became tarnished. Elizabeth began to travel around Brazil before deciding to return to the US to find work.

However much Lota hated Elizabeth over her affair in Seattle she felt their own relationship was worth salvaging. The continuing stress over bureaucratic interference over the management of Flamengo Park seemed to be unbearable without Elizabeth. Lota travelled to New York to see Elizabeth and try to get their relationship back on track. Their meeting was friendly and promising, but short-lived. On the second morning Elizabeth found Lota collapsed in a coma. She was rushed to hospital but Lota died several days later. Suicide was the official cause of death.

Elizabeth was devastated, even more so after Lota’s family began accusing her of being the cause of Lota’s death. Elizabeth’s return to Brazil was not a happy one and she moved permanently back to the USA.

Elizabeth’s later career was spent mainly in lecturing rather than writing. For a major poet she wrote comparatively little but she received many fellowships and awards, including the Pulitzer Prize I mentioned above and also the Order of Rio Banco from the Brazilian government.

Perhaps the appointment which highlights the significance of her work to Brits like myself was that of Elizabeth’s appointment as Consultant in Poetry at the Library of Congress in 1949-50. This title doesn’t resonate with the British as much as the commonly used alternative title of US Poet Laureate.

The US has been appointing its Consultants in Poetry/Poets Laureate since 1937. Among them have been Sir Stephen Spender, Robert Frost and Robert Lowell. Unlike the UK there have been more than one female US Poet Laureate. Elizabeth Bishop was the third. In the UK there has been only one, the current Poet Laureate, and the only openly lesbian one – 53) Dame Carol Ann Duffy (b.1955).

Next time : We have no time to rest on our laurels before going through the agony of singing.