Artemis of Ephesus, Goddess of Fertility, 2nd Century
In the mid-1700s, Charles III of Bourbon (1716-1788), King of Naples, began exploring the towns buried by Vesuvius and combined some of those finds with works of art he moved from palaces in Rome and Parma he inherited from his mother, Elisabeth Farnese (1692-1766), Queen of Spain. His son, Ferdinando IV (1751-1825), moved the treasures into a building that originally was a 16th-century riding school and later the university. Today the structure serves as the National Archaeology Museum or Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli (MANN).
The mosaics from Pompeii were my favorite part of the museum, but, unfortunately the galleries containing the largest mosaics were closed temporarily for renovation. No photos appear here of the outside of MANN because it was completely covered by scaffolding, possibly removed by now.
While ancient Romans favored wearings togas, tunics, stolas and pallas, many of their gods tended to frolic shamelessly in a bacchanalian existence, cavorting and coupling in fashions far from puritanical.
Giant head of a horse, Donatello, bronze, 1456-1466
Atlas holding the celestial sphere, 2nd century
detail of Memento Mori, Pompeii, with death atop the butterfly representing the soul balancing on a wheel of fortune
cockfight mosaic
fresco from Pompeii of the god Priapus, who threatens thieves with rape, is found in the Gabinetto Secreto
Athena Farnese, 430
Pan
Eros with Dolphin, 2nd century
Nilotic Landscape, mosaic from the House of the Faun in Pompeii
Dionysus and Eros
Meridian Line
Medusa from Casa dell Vestali in Pompeii
Bacchus
Sarcophagus with depiction of drunken Hercules joining Dionysus in a procession, 2nd century
Nilotic Landscape, mosaic from the House of the Faun in Pompeii
Apollo Citharist
Pan and Daphnis
cockfight mosaic
Kneeling Barbarian, 1st century
mosaic from the House of the Faun in Pompeii
Artemis of Ephesus, goddess of fertility, 2nd century
Table support, 2nd century, Villa Madama. “On it is depicted the Homeric myth of Scylla gripping Ulysses’ sailors. The sea-monster that emerges from the woman’s body, her arm thrown haphazardly over her head, encircles in the loops of her fish-like tail the lifeless body of a man. Meanwhile the three dogs’ heads that emerge from her stomach wreak destruction on other shipwrecked sailors who struggle in the waves. A centaur is depicted on the opposite side… a small cupid seated on her back….”
Atlas holding the oldest known representation of the celestial sphere, 2nd century
This is evident throughout the impressive museum, but even more so in the Gabinetto Secreto, or Secret Cabinet. In this gallery clearly marked with a warning as to its mature content, one finds the more pornographic-seeming artifacts from Pompeii and erotic objects of the Borgia Collection. The only one of the above images shot in the Secret Cabinet is that of the enormously endowed god Priapus, kind of an X-rated scarecrow threatening evil-doers with rape.
Hola my Teresa, I’m thinkin’ of you now in San Antonio.
I have 27 dollars, and the good luck of your picture framed in gold.
Tonight I’ll put it all on the fighting spurs of Gallo del Cielo,
Then I’ll return to buy the land Pancho Villa stole from father long ago
Gallo del Cielo by Tom Russell
Men lay down their bets on their roosters on this plate produced in San Antonio by San Jose Pottery.
I’ve listened to Joe Ely weaving the sad tale toward the inevitable death of El Gallo countless times. It’s tragic, but I dismiss it as more of a folk tale than a current event.
After all, one of my favorite possessions is a cockfighting plate produced in San Antonio by Ethel Harris’ San Jose Pottery.
And I find it amusing to reflect on San Antonio’s rough and tumble past as evidenced in the pages of the 1911-1912 edition of The Blue Book, a visitors’ guide to the city’s red light district. In addition to a multitude of brothels just south and west of City Hall, there were at least two cock pits – Ogden’s and Monterrey – located on South Santa Rosa. I even incorporated their ads in one of my Blue Book series of prints:
The Blue Book No. 2. The Blue Book's listings for cock pits on South Santa Rosa Avenue in downtown San Antonio is combined with images of roosters and a period map of the area. Edition of 25. 10 1/4 x 3 1/4 inches.
“Mayor Callaghan crowed at City Hall during the week, but spirited fights could be found just two blocks to the west on weekends.”
The palenque, or cock pit, in Real de Catorce
The palenque, or cock pit, in the former ghost town of Real de Catorce remains one of my favorite landmarks to explore. But that is made easier because I was not with my husband and his younger brother when they stumbled upon men placing their bets on an actual cockfight there.
During one of our jaunts to Mexico, I tried to convince my husband we should buy the ruins of the palenque in Mineral de Pozos, a former ghost town near San Miguel de Allende, to incorporate in a retirement home for us (one of many ill-conceived notions expressed during more than three decades of marriage from which he wisely has managed to divert my attention until common sense returned, albeit always on a fleeting basis).
"A Competitor and His Cock," Haiti, June 2010, photograph by Vic Hinterlang
Our friend Vic pulled out his camera in Haiti this past June to document a cockfight at Delmas 31. When he lagged on posting a follow-up, I feared he was hooked and was out training a cock of his own. But my fears were groundless; he simply was flying back to Austin.
Cockfighting is something I prefer to pretend only occurs in the past tense, or, at least, takes place in some other country. The world is becoming a kinder, more gentle place (dream on, Gayle). But, in support of this argument, Spanish Catalonians recently enacted legislation drawing an end to their deeply entrenched tradition of bullfighting.
Periodically, media intefere with my naive theories. The other day, I made the mistake of reading Brandi Grissom’s coverage of cockfights, and their aftermath, outside of Dallas for Texas Tribune.
One by one, Domanick Muñoz pulled bloody and battered bodies out of a pile of feathers, claws and beaks. Roosters that were still gasping for life….
The posted videos are not for the faint of heart. Grissom makes it impossible to continue in a state of denial. Cockfighting is not something that should be included in “It’s a Texas thing.”
Update Posted on March 17: Oscar Barajas, who recently wrote a post about his father’s disappointing cock, forwarded this link to “La Muerte de un Gallero.”
Update on May 22, 2011: Bobby Jones calm defense in Texas Monthly of his livelihood, breeding game birds, seems blood-chilling to me. “Harvesting” is the professionals’ word for cockfighting:
…what goes on at harvesting facilities is no different from what you see at a golf course, the rodeo circuit, or a bass tournament. It’s a gentleman’s wager, like betting on a football game.
As part of his explanation of legitimacy, he claims that gaffs for cockfighting were brought over on the Mayflower. But, his best point is:
No, what I’d like to see is a law that gives rural counties the power to decide what they want, instead of being told what to do by people in cities. Why are people in areas like Houston and Dallas, where there’s practically no morality, able to dictate what we do in rural areas, when they know nothing about it?
Postcards from Barton Springs 