Only then is a vessel used for cooking, storage, and transport. Great cooks say the secret is love and tears, just like archaeological field and lab work.
It seems that they saw these high and foreboding mountains as less of a barrier and more of a conduit.
The laboratory’s working hypothesis is that many of the settlements near Mendoza were seasonally occupied by people who spent the rest of the year on the other side of the Andes.
Were potters traveling with raw materials or finished vessels? Or did they not bring anything with them and make new vessels with local materials?
Marsh, Cecilia Frigolé, and Rosa Moyano from Laboratorio de Paleo-Ecología Humana and Facultad de Ciencias Exactas y Naturales write the final entry in the series dedicated to The Senses and Aesthetics of Archaeological Science.
Responses follow from co-editors of the issue, Andrew Roddick and Colleen Morgan. Marsh, Cecilia Frigolé, and Rosa Moyano Here in Mendoza, Argentina, the last few years have been lively times for science-ing ceramics.
Besides the classic field interactions with sherds during survey and excavation, we have been exploring a variety of laboratory approaches to ceramics, such as petrography, experimental reproductions, Atomic Absorption Spectrophotometry (AAS), and X-ray Fluorescence (XRF).
The basic idea is to identify materials used by potters and to see if they were made locally or not. Beginning around two-thousand years ago, hunter–gatherers (or pastoralists?
It is not simple to identify potting ingredients from archaeological sherds.
Potters move around, collect materials from different places, and mix them together.
The materials themselves could be geological mixtures.
A kiln’s heat renders a transformation that turns the whole into more than the sum of the parts. The spices might not even matter that much, but instead how much time it spent simmering.