New Light on Canaanite-Phoenician Pottery

Abstract

As announced in the introduction (1–6), Dalit Regev’s New Light on Canaanite-Phoenician Pottery focuses on groups of pottery that were not recognized as Canaanite-Phoenician before the research undertaken by Regev. Her aim is to examine the continuity “from Bronze to the Iron Age and beyond” of the “Canaanite-Phoenician” pottery tradition. The main research material were the “Canaanite-Phoenician” vessel forms in the eastern Mediterranean, while the western Mediterranean is considered to have produced “different interpretations of the Eastern forms” (1). Instead of a “narrow conservative definition” of Phoenician pottery, understood as ceramics made in Phoenicia during the Iron Age, the author proposes a much wider definition, considering as Phoenician pottery the local pottery groups around the Mediterranean made with Phoenician forms, techniques, and traditions. An obvious example is Punic pottery produced by Phoenicians settled in North Africa.It is also clear that the predecessors of Phoenician pottery in the Levant was the Canaanite pottery of the Middle Bronze and Late Bronze Ages. Regev rightly points out that the development of Phoenician pottery, including its predecessors and its continuation in the Persian and Hellenistic periods, are excellent example of longue durée. This is especially true for the “Red Slip group” and “some of the coarse-ware shapes” (amphorae) (3). However, when it comes to the section on the ware (“Phoenician vessels, whether coarse or fine, were often made of the same ware” [4]), the author clearly does not distinguish between the fabric (a matrix composed of clay minerals and inclusions added by the potter) and the ware (composed of two elements: the fabric and specific surface treatments). A ware can be shared by different fabrics. Unfortunately, this defect is perpetuated throughout the book.Chapter 1 (7–18) presents the Phoenician vessel assemblage and its distribution. The first part treats “the pottery groups and etymology” ([7]; apparently meaning “terminology”) and attempts to define the nature of the Phoenician presence in the Mediterranean. The four important topics considered by the author are: existence of multiple workshops, aspects of commercial networks, Phoenician rituals and their attributes, and processes of cultural changes such as Hellenization. This section of Chapter 1 is accompanied by figures 1–5, illustrating the corpora of “Canaanite-Phoenician” pottery in individual periods: the Bronze Age (fig. 1), Iron Age (fig. 2: lacking captions for nos. 44–62), Persian period (fig. 3), Hellenistic period (fig. 4), and Roman period (fig. 5, where, however, nos. 2 and 6 are Byzantine/early Islamic rather than Roman).The second part of this chapter is entitled “The Phoenician Assemblage and Distribution”; it mentions Phoenician shapes in both fine and coarse ware (13) of which the latter should more properly be described as plain ware, if we bear in mind that there exists the important category of so-called Phoenician Semi-Fine ware. The author rightly emphasizes the impact of Phoenician (material) culture on the Mediterranean, eloquent expression of which is the “orientalization” of Greek material culture during the Geometric period. Another statement that cannot be contested is that there existed “special relationships” between Phoenicia and Cyprus (15). However, maintaining that “Cyprus was Phoenician but influenced by Greek culture as well as the cultures of Asia Minor” (15) proves a lack of understanding of the early history of the island and of the very nature of its culture. In addition, the statement that Phoenician factories “continued to produce Phoenician pottery on Cyprus until the Late Roman period” (!) (15) sounds very controversial (reference to “Regev 2020” is certainly not sufficient). It is one thing to recognize distant echoes of Phoenician tradition in the pottery shapes of the late Roman period, but quite another to call them “Phoenician pottery.”As regards the Hellenistic period, Regev emphasizes different distribution patterns of the Eastern Sigillata A (ESA) ware (considered as a Phoenician product of international reach) and the coarse ware, respectively. The latter, which unlike the ESA was Phoenician-oriented, embraced amphorae and amphoriskoi (both forms de facto representing the Semi-Fine, and not coarse, ware). During the Hellenistic period both classes of pottery were rare (virtually absent) on inland Judean sites. The statement that “excavations at Paphos . . . have yielded a fair amount of Phoenician coarse ware” (18) is certainly not true (indeed, it lacks any reference).Chapter 2 (19–53) contains comprehensive and fairly well-organized information on the Phoenician amphorae as descendants of the Canaanite vessels. The rather lengthy introduction to the shape development and distribution (19–26) is very useful, even if it contains some generalizations without providing evidence such as, “The Phoenician amphora was produced and exported at least until the 7th century CE” (21), a period in which one would normally speak about the shape’s distant Phoenician roots. The chronological development(?) of the form in the eastern Mediterranean is illustrated by fig. 6, which groups examples dated between the Middle Bronze Age IIB and the seventh century CE. The question of “identifying marks” on Phoenician amphorae is discussed concisely in this chapter (23–26). However, it is a complicated matter that certainly requires much further study.This discussion is followed by a diachronic survey of amphorae: the Early and Middle Bronze Age (fig. 6:1), Late Bronze Age (fig. 6:2–3), Iron Age (fig. 6:4–18), Persian (fig. 6:19–21), Hellenistic (fig. 6:22–23), and Roman periods. The latter era is divided into the early Roman period (mid-first century BCE–fourth century CE, fig. 6:24–26, even though the early Roman period does not reach beyond the mid-second century CE) and the late Roman/Byzantine period (fig. 6:27–29). Some details of these divisions call for a comment. Specifically, a painted Egyptian amphora of the Iron Age (fig. 6:18) can hardly be identified as a Phoenician one. Moreover, within this very period there is a significant overlap between the Phoenician and Judahite jar forms (it is only for the Roman period that the author admits influence of the inland “sack-shaped body” tradition on that of the “rounded Phoenician amphora” [44]). Furthermore, amphorae fig. 6:17 and 6:19, attributed to the Iron Age and Persian period respectively, are definitely of the same type. Finally, jar fig. 6:29 from Susita originates from the early Islamic and not the Byzantine period. In fact, the author notes that Phoenician models were still recognizable in the amphorae of Coptic Egypt well into the Islamic period. The author states that “Phoenician coarse ware dating to the Hellenistic period was first defined as a group at Akko-Ptolemais . . . (Regev 2000, 2004)” (40), while in fact it was first recognized at Tel Anafa and published in 1997 (Berlin 1997: 9–10, not included in the bibliographical references), which is a serious oversight. On p. 47, “Jerome Comments on Isa” should read “Jerome, Commentary on Isaiah.” In a fairly comprehensive discussion on the so-called Gaza amphorae (Gaza jars) of the late Roman/Byzantine period (49–50), a serious mistake ought to be noted: there was no manufacturing center of Gaza jars in Cyprus, and the reference in the text (49: Demesticha and Michaelides 2001) is to a kiln in Paphos that produced the so-called Late Roman Amphora 1 type, but not Gaza jars.Interesting albeit concise remarks concerning the “manufacturing centers and patterns of distribution and imitation” of Phoenician forms (51) in the west (Sicily and Sardinia, Northern Africa, and Iberian Peninsula) are contained in the Conclusions (51–53, and fig. 7: “Canaanite-Phoenician Amphorae in the West,” with examples dating from the eighth century BCE until the late Roman period).Chapter 3 (55–126), entitled “Decorated Ware” discusses “the main four groups of surface treatment applied to the Canaanite-Phoenician pottery” (55), whose forms may be either plain or decorated. The chapter comprises nine sections marked by roman numerals I–IX; note that there is no Section VIII in the author’s counting. The “styles of decoration” are the Red Slip, Bichrome, and Black-on-Red. Considering the “Red Slip Pottery as a Phoenician Ethnic-Religious Symbol” (Section II of Chapter 3 [56–61]) seems an exaggeration, given the fact that presence of a red slip characterizes, for example, many table-pottery forms of the Ammonite period in Transjordan. One cannot deny that there indeed existed a set of vessel shapes used in the Phoenician marzeah ritual (socio-cultic gatherings). This, however, does not mean that the same forms were excluded from domestic use. Moreover, it is very doubtful that in the Hellenistic and early Roman periods the ESA vessels were specifically destined for use in ritual banquets as Regev seems to suggest (56; the example of Delos). One should note the relative rarity of ESA ware among the Nabataeans, people famous for their ritual banqueting, which contradicts the opinion of the author. On the other hand, Regev rightly points out the striking resemblance between the Phoenician red slip (“Samaria ware”) and the ESA as regards both the ware (properly: the fabric) and the ceramic shapes.It is definitely true that cultural Phoenician identity survived well into the Roman period, yet the comment of the author that the reason for its disappearance between the fourth and seventh centuries CE was “persecution within the Christian Roman Empire and later by the Muslims who offered death or conversion” (57) does not sound reliable, and all the more so since Regev does not provide any evidence for this claim.Section III (62–92) is devoted to the “Red Slip: Bronze Age Tradition, Iron Age Standardization, ESA and Terra Sigillata.” The discussion is illustrated by two figures, one of which (fig. 8) aims at demonstrating, based on select examples, the continuity of the Red Slip open forms from the Middle Bronze Age to the Roman period as represented by the “RLW” (the correct term is African Red Slip ware) of the second to fourth centuries CE. The other one (fig. 9) shows a number of vessel shapes (both closed and open) in Red Slip ware considered related to Canaanite-Phoenician material culture: they range in date from the Middle Bronze Age to the third century BCE and come from both the eastern and western Mediterranean. In addition, there are several color photos of select examples of Red Slip ware, mainly of Iron Age II date (photos 11–24).The Red Slip pottery of the Iron Age, apparently descended from the Red Burnished pottery of the Middle Bronze Age (which allegedly first occurred in Early Bronze Sidon), is identified as “Phoenician,” that is, manufactured in Phoenicia and distributed by the Phoenicians. The best examples are the “Samaria bowls” of the Iron Age II, initially present only on Phoenician coastal sites, as well as in Samaria and Hazor, before they gained wider distribution during the eighth century BCE. In the seventh/sixth century BCE their burnished red slip was replaced by red slip of lesser quality. For the Persian period, Regev notes two lines in ceramic production: the continuation of red slip (assuming appearance of a dull red coating), and red-and-black-banded (“Band-Painted”) pottery. Contrary to the opinion of the author, however, Red Slip ware existed in Cyprus during the Archaic II and Classical periods in a degenerate form and constituted only a small fraction of the ceramic wares. Regev also mentions early Hellenistic Red Slip pottery of Beirut, which may be considered a link between the Iron Age Red Slip and the ESA. Perhaps a reference to some Persian-to-Hellenistic-period ceramics from Tell Keisan (Briend and Humbert 1980; Młynarczyk 2001) would be worthwhile to add as well.A lengthy discussion (79–87) is devoted to the ESA, the earliest red-gloss pottery group in the sigillatae family. It comprises the terminology, history of research, technological characteristics as well as those of decoration. The latter (according to Regev) links the ESA with earlier Phoenician fine ware. In her attempt to bridge the gap between the Persian-period red-slipped ware and the Hellenistic ESA, the author advocates the introduction of the ESA as early as the late third century BCE (83). This hypothesis, however, is based on unpublished and unconfirmed data from rescue excavations in Akko, supported by a couple of objects from Gezer found in a layer broadly dated to the third/second century BCE, which is still insufficient evidence by which to place the first occurrence of the ESA in the third century BCE. The finds from Gezer, referred to by Regev (83) would represent ESA forms 1 and 20. Interestingly, the same forms in early ESA (“pre-ESA”?) ware were found in Sha‘ar ha-Amakim in a context securely dated by co-occurring imported ceramics to the first half of the second century BCE (Młynarczyk 2009: 101–3, fig. 4:7, 9, 11). The date of ca. 160 BCE as the alleged first occurrence of the ESA in Cyprus and in Athens (84) would fit the observations from both Gezer and Sha‘ar ha-Amakim, but this important information lacks any bibliographic reference.Apparently, Regev cannot decide on the chronology of the ESA when she states that the “production [of the ESA] first began in the northern Levant before the mid-2nd century BCE” (88). Moreover, in the captions to fig. 10 with select forms of the ESA (specifically, forms 1, 2A, 4A, 6, 17B, 20, 5A, 22A, 23), all of them are inexplicably placed within the same time range, third century BCE to first century CE. Contrary to the figure’s heading (“Canaanite-Phoenician Eastern Sigillata A”), vessel nos. 10–13 represent the African Red Slip ware of the Roman period. Ultimately unfounded is the author’s claim that graffiti occasionally present on the bases of the ESA vessels were batch marks (83), when in fact they were initials or monograms of the vessel owners. On the contrary, the idea of Phoenician control of the trade in the ESA, supported by its distribution, sounds reasonable. Finally, the author also mentions regional spheres of production for different kinds of sigillata. In her summary, Regev states once again that the ESA is in fact Phoenician pottery, emphasizing its similarity to the Red Slip Phoenician ware of the Iron Age. Remarks on the Red Slip tradition in Cyprus (90) lack precision: by the fourth century BCE this ware was extremely degenerated and hardly identifiable as such, while the so-called Cypriot Sigillata (ESD) made its first appearance before 100 BCE rather than the first century BCE as claimed by Regev (90).According to her Phoenico-centric stance, Regev claims that a number of red-slipped wares identified in different parts of the Levant (Arabia, Cyprus, Egypt, Northern Mesopotamia) should be recognized as “belonging to a single, continuous Phoenician tradition” (91). As regards the “Colour Coated bowls” in Cyprus, one should remember that the Color Coated ware was not confined to the bowls, and that it was manufactured in many regions, including the Asia Minor coast and the Aegean, each of them recognizable by particular fabrics. The author also states that during the Hellenistic period “ESA was still considered a Phoenician religious marker in the Levant” (91), a claim that she does not support with evidence.Section IV (93–104 and fig. 11) considers Bichrome ware, the decoration style of which appears in Levantine pottery during the Middle Bronze I period (tombs in Sidon). The author rejects the existence of “Philistine” (or “Ashdod”) ware specific to Philistine culture (95), defining this pottery as a splinter-off of the Canaanite-Phoenician one. She also criticizes M. Artzy’s view that the home of Bichrome pottery was Cyprus. She boldly states: “In my view, an alien ethnic group known as the ‘Philistines’ never existed, so there never was a Philistine material culture” (97). Indeed, she believes that the “Philistines” were in fact Canaanite seafarers. Regev provides no evidence for this very controversial claim.Section V (105–13 and fig. 12) is devoted to the “Banded Ware of the Late Iron Age to the Persian Period.” Unfortunately, this “ware” (“pottery group”?) lacks adequate description. It seems that Regev connects Band-Painted pottery with the “East Greek” pottery (105), which is highly imprecise. This section contains some confusing information. In the author’s opinion, there are “three Phoenician Iron Age Red Slip groups (the Burnished Red Slip, the Black-on-Red and the Bichrome)” (107). However, the banded decoration, the simplest decoration pattern possible, cannot be understood as a marker of any material culture. Instead, it occurred variously with many wares such as the Cypriote White Painted, Bichrome, Black-on-Red, and “East Greek” bowls, to name just a few. The alleged “Banded ware” is hardly a separate group!Section VI (114–17) presents the Black-on-Red ware from which, as it seems, the author excluded open forms, apparently moving them to the hybrid category of “Banded ware” instead. She describes the Black-on-Red ware as “a mix of Red Slip and Bichrome ware” (114), a controversial definition that is not supported by any evidence. The discussion on the origin of the Black-on-Red ware is still ongoing, with production locales both in Phoenicia and Cyprus, as admitted by Regev, who nevertheless stresses “the clear Phoenician characteristics of this group” (117).Section VII (118–26) is entitled “Black Slip: Ritual and Domestic Use.” Omitting the question of their possible use, Regev presents Black Slip Phoenician vessels of the Iron Age II (fig. 14) with the aim to establish a link between this Iron Age II ware and Attic Black Gloss ware (for which she invents the abbreviation “ABG”). The discussion leads the reader toward the idea that the latter not only had Phoenician roots but may have been manufactured and distributed by Phoenician potters, a suggestion that lacks evidence. On the other hand, the author is right in pointing out that some vessel shapes may have appeared in the Attic ceramic repertoire under Phoenician influence. However, Regev does not distinguish between the slip and the glaze, an important technical distinction, and mistakenly refers to Black Slip Phoenician pottery as “Phoenician black-glazed” (sic) pottery (121). One should also object to the statement that there existed “a Levantine-produced black-slipped pottery in the early Hellenistic period” (121). By this the author apparently means the so-called Hellenistic Black-Slip Predecessor (BSP, a term coined by Slane 1997), which actually is not a predecessor of the ESA but rather was produced alongside the early repertoire of the red-slipped ESA, around the mid-second century BCE. It is an unfortunate mistake when the author places the site of Ai Khanoum in Babylonia instead of Bactria (123).A section on the Gray Slip ware in Iberia (123–24), eighth–fifth/fourth centuries BCE, considers pottery with gray-burnished surface made in Portugal and Spain as a local variant of the Phoenician tradition. Another section (124–26) is devoted to the “Hellenistic Black Slip” ware, which the author considers as being related to “Phoenician Fine ware.” It begins with the statement that “glazed ware is a term usually applied to Greek pottery” of which “the best-known group . . . is Attic Black Glaze.” This is a rather belated explanation by the author that the so-called glaze (properly: gloss) of the Greek pottery is something different from the true vitreous glaze (124). Further, the use of the abbreviation “BSP” for “Black Slip Pottery” (125) is an error: in fact, it denotes the “Black-Slip Predecessor” of the ESA (Slane 1997). The “black burnished bowls” (abbreviated “BBB” by the author) of the sixth–fifth centuries BCE, originally considered to represent Ammonite pottery of an Assyrian origin, are presented as Phoenician pottery (125), unfortunately without sufficient justification. Also, in the author’s opinion, the Campana ware of Italy originated in the Phoenician pottery tradition rather than in the Attic Black Gloss ware.Section IX of this chapter is a short paragraph (126) mentioning “Decorated Fine Ware in the West,” which allegedly repeats all the styles of decoration present in the eastern Phoenician pottery.Chapter 4 (127–60) is devoted to the “Canaanite-Phoenician Coarse Ware” to the exclusion of commercial jars discussed separately before in Chapter 2. Two reservations should be made: firstly, the author does not distinguish between the coarse and the semi-fine ware, the latter being close to the so-called fine (that is, decorated: painted, slipped or glazed) ware, just devoid of decoration. Secondly, the discussion is not confined to the plain (“coarse”) ware; it also includes examples of decorated wares (Bichrome, “banded,” Red Slip, Black-on-Red), which repeat the shapes of plain vessels. This chapter focuses on vessel forms grouped according to their possible usage and consists of three parts.Part 1 lists the forms of vessels defined as domestic, specifically jugs (their shapes illustrated in fig. 15, all of them dating from the Iron Age II period) and cooking pots (fig. 16), the latter actually representing coarse ware sensu stricto.Part 2 presents vessel forms classified as “commercial” (fig. 17): small containers for medicinal and scented substances such as juglets, bottles (note that the “Bulbous bottle” in photo 50 is almost identical to “Ridge-neck jug” in photo 46!) and amphoriskoi. A major percentage of these vessels is decorated, yet they are classified as “coarse ware” ! The coarse-ware Phoenician amphoriskoi of the Hellenistic period enjoyed very wide distribution, probably for their contents. Regev carefully examines their distribution pattern and rightly considers the absence of amphoriskoi at western Phoenician sites as proof for the lack of direct contacts with the eastern Phoenicians at that time. As regards relations between Cyprus and Phoenicia, however, the statement that “the Phoenicians never ruled over Cyprus” (148) is obviously false: it is a well-known fact that some of the Cypriot kingdoms of the Cypro-Archaic and Classical periods were ruled by Phoenician dynasties, to mention just Kition, Tamassos, Idalion, and probably Lapethos.Part 3, “Ritual Vessels” (149–59), deals with three groups of ceramic forms: (1) “Kraters, Urns and Small Jars” (figs. 18–19), (2) “Oil Lamps” (fig. 20) with rather interesting remarks regarding their use in funerary rituals, and (3) “Tripod Bowls” (fig. 21) with consideration of their respective materials (stone, ceramic, metal).Chapter 5, entitled “Special Cases” (161–80), presents select pottery groups that the author wishes to add to the “corpus of the Canaanite-Phoenician pottery.” They include Red Lustrous wheel-made pottery of the Late Bronze Age, “small jars” allegedly of Hittite inspiration (figs. 23–24), bent bottles of the Iron Age (fig. 27), and “Philistine” bent bottles of the eleventh century BCE.Chapter 6, “Conclusions” (181–86), is divided into “General Notes,” “Notes on Pottery,” and “Closing Remarks.” Regev, from her Phoenico-centric point of view, repeats several statements and hypotheses expressed in the previous chapters. In her fervent desire to promote the “magnitude of Canaanite-Phoenician culture”(181), she claims that “the existing literature kept in the archives and libraries of European monasteries has supported this obsolescent narrative, which served the purpose of the Church in asserting that the origin of Western civilization lay in Europe and not in the Levant, an area dominated by infidel Canaanites, Jews, and Muslims” (181–82), a claim for which Regev provides no proof and which is far-fetched.Endnotes (187–88) and references (189–217) follow. The latter are plentiful; however, while profusely quoting her own works, the author omits some literature relevant to Phoenician pottery, including at least two books published in recent years: Wicenciak 2016 and Michniewicz and Młynarczyk 2017. An old but monumental (and still useful) volume on Phoenician Tell Keisan (Briend and Humbert 1980) is not mentioned at all. The index (218–23) is poorly organized, without any distinction between subjects, pottery categories, and place names.In conclusion: The book offers a rich survey of pottery forms and wares hypothetically or actually related to the Canaanite-Phoenician repertoire. The very term “Canaanite-Phoenician” is fully justified in the light of archaeological data, although it is not necessarily to be extended to include material from the western Phoenician (“Punic”) sites. New ideas presented by Regev, be they acceptable or controversial, provide plentiful material for potential discussion. However, many of the author’s hypotheses and statements are not sufficiently documented and lack bibliographic citations, which are crucial for a well-informed discussion. Illustrative material is abundant, yet some deficiencies should be pointed out. First of all, the figures illustrating particular groups of pottery lack references in the text (with the exception of fig. 7), an omission that makes it difficult for the reader to follow the discussion. Also, both the “List of Photos” (xi–xii) and the photo captions lack sources. Other deficiencies of the book are the author’s continuous misunderstanding of the difference between the ceramic fabric and the ware (only minimal description of actual fabrics can occasionally be found).While the book sheds some new light on the role of the Phoenician ceramic tradition in the development of Mediterranean pottery, it overestimates the role of Phoenician elements in Roman- and late Roman-period ceramic production. Nevertheless, due to its plethora of information, the book will be useful on the condition that the reader remains critical when encountering some of the author’s more controversial theories. For the same reason, this book it is not necessarily to be recommended to beginners in the study of Mediterranean pottery.