A Dove, an Omphalos, and a Mystery: What’s on This Hydria?

Contributed by Selene Xu ‘27

In the fall of 2024, I reached out to Dr. Ryan Wheeler to learn more about the collection of Ancient Mediterranean artifacts that I knew were housed at the Peabody. I didn’t yet know the extent of what the collection contained, or what sort of project I might want to take on, but I knew I wanted to learn more, and that I wanted to help the Peabody learn more, too, by enhancing its catalog records. Dr. Wheeler shared with me a catalog of the objects that the Peabody houses, including a folder with all their photographs. After taking a quick look, I found myself drawn to this hydria:

Hydria (jug) housed at the Peabody Institute, 1989.984.4.2.

This is where I chose to focus my independent research. Initial identification of the Ancient Mediterranean collections at the Peabody was provided by Dr. Laure Marest, then a curator at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. She described 1989.984.4.2 as a “hydria (jug) with a man and a woman holding a dove above an omphalos”, made from red-figure ceramics, dating to the late 4th century BCE, and attributed to the Hellenistic period in the Campanian region. This served as my starting point, and the direction for my research: to learn more about this type of pottery, and to identify who this man and woman might be.

I began by researching the history and evolution of Hellenistic vessels (ceramic containers produced during the Hellenistic period, roughly from the late 4th to the 1st centuries B.C.E., used for practical, ritual, or decorative purposes), from proto-geometric and geometric techniques to black-figure and, finally, red-figure, the technique used for this artifact. Red-figure pottery eventually took precedence over black-figure because it allowed artists to leave figures in the clay’s natural red while painting the background black. Instead of laboriously incising details, artists could draw them more freely, making the technique better suited to naturalistic depictions of anatomy, garments, and emotion. I also researched the different types of Attic pottery, or pottery produced in the region of Attica, Greece, especially in Athens, which became a major center of Greek vase production. These forms included hydriai, lekythoi, amphorae, kraters, and many more. In doing so, I learned that a hydria is a three-handled water jar, typically with two horizontal handles for lifting and one vertical handle for pouring.

Understanding the broader historical and artistic context of the pot assisted my hypotheses of the figures’ identities. Since the woman on the right is holding a dove, I predicted that she was Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty, whose sacred animal is the dove. After finding more vessels online with Aphrodite depicted and comparing them with the illustration on this pot, I was confident that the well-decorated lady with her hair tied in a bunch, open beaded cap, earrings, necklace, and bracelets was Aphrodite.

close up image of a painting on a greek vessel, showing a woman holding a dove out toward a man wearing a laurel wreath
A closer view of the front of the hydria’s shoulder, with the now-identified Aphrodite.

Then came the most challenging part: identifying the man on the left of the hydria. At first glance, there was nothing symbolic about the figure, except that he stood casually beside Aphrodite, showing no sign of reverence typically expected toward a goddess, therefore implying that he may be a god himself. I searched online databases and museum collections for depictions of various gods on Attic pottery and for their characteristics. Then, I remembered, too, that Dr. Marest had described the large object in between Aphrodite and this man as an “omphalos.”  Originating from the Ancient Greek word “ὀμφαλός,” meaning “navel,” an omphalos symbolizes the center of the world, glory, and birth and death in the Classical and Hellenistic periods. I later learned that the omphalos was also a marble monument discovered at Delphi, Greece, a religious sanctuary dedicated to Apollo.

close up image of a painting on a greek vessel, showing an omphalos
Close up on the omphalos.

Thinking about the relationship between the omphalos and Apollo, the fact that fillets (decorative bands of cloth often used as religious offerings), which adorn the omphalos, were often offered by worshippers consulting Apollo’s oracle, and the laurel wreath commonly worn by the nude Apollo, I suspected that this man could be Apollo. After researching more vessels online with depictions of Apollo, I found various similarities in the iconography, such as Apollo holding a staff in a print at the British Museum.

close up image of a painting on an ancient greek vessel, showing a man wearing a laurel wreath and leaning on a staff
A laurel wreath, a staff, and an omphalos with fillets.

I wrote up my findings for the Peabody Institute and created slides of my research to present my findings to others. After coordinating with Dr. Lainie Schultz (Peabody Institute), Dr. Elizabeth Meyer (Instructor, Phillips Academy Classics Department), and Dr. Paige Roberts (Director, Phillips Academy Archives and Special Collections), I am so grateful to have had the opportunity to present my findings in person at the “History Up Close” event on April 30th, open to the Phillips Academy campus. The excitement of this experience also came from learning from the audience, many of whom asked very thoughtful questions about not only the iconography on the hydria but also the iconology, which gave me clearer next steps for my research.

three people standing around an ancient greek pot, looking and discussing
Selene presenting her research at the “History Up Close” event. Photo by Jessie Wallner.

Never would I have thought that I would have this amazing opportunity as a high schooler. I am also extremely grateful that this experience sparked my interest in archaeology, inspiring me to expand my research on Attic pottery even beyond the Peabody.

New Leadership and New Initiatives at the Andover Anthropological Society

Contributed by Aaron Bai ’27 and Barrett Kim ’27

Hi, I’m Aaron Bai, and I’m an upper (11th grader) at Phillips Academy. I’ve always been interested in history and the humanities. As a child, I would spend hours in the school library reading books on mythology and history from cultures all around the world. As I grew older, I would read and even write about interesting topics in my free time, from the Garamantes during the Roman Empire to modern extremism in the Sahel. I have come to believe that only through studying human culture and society throughout its history can we better understand who we are and how we came to be. Though the present may differ considerably from the days of Lucius Cincinnatus or George Washington, for instance, their legacies and the similarities in the challenges and decisions we face make it such that uncovering their stories unmasks more of our own.

Following my interests, I chose to work at the Peabody for my work-duty requirement during my lower year (10th grade). This turned out to be a great decision— I had the rare opportunity to help organize, document, and analyze the Peabody’s vast collection of artifacts, from Neolithic stone tools to Native American ceramics. Working closely with these objects allowed me to engage directly with material history and learn the stories behind them in a unique and deeply meaningful way. This year, with work duty completed, I have continued to volunteer at the Peabody every week, helping research and document its collection of coinage from the Ancient Mediterranean, which serves as an amazing window into the societies and belief systems of the ancient world.

Given my interest in anthropology, I joined the Andover Anthropological Society last year, a student club here on campus, and later applied to take on a leadership position. Now serving as co-president of the club, I hope to raise awareness of this remarkable resource at our school and expand opportunities for students to engage with the Peabody and the collections there, whether through open houses, workshops, or research projects. It may even be worthwhile exploring engagement beyond the student body, such as inviting local schools to participate in open houses or lectures. In any case, I am very excited and look forward to working with the Peabody on these initiatives.

A group of people standing around tables, looking at coins laid out on trays and talking.
Aaron sharing his coin research with members of the Phillips Academy campus.

My name is Barrett Kim, and I’m an upper (11th grader) at Phillips Academy interested in biological sciences, though what draws me most isn’t exclusively the science, but the philosophical questions of how we got here.

I came across anthropology very spontaneously. A friend mentioned a research project through the Andover Anthropological Society, specifically exploring gender dynamics in Indigenous artifacts. Their hard work and insightful research immediately fascinated me. Around the same time, I was reading Orwell, Bradbury, and Salinger, writers who kept returning to the same warning: societies fail when they forget their own past. Anthropology felt like the applied, real-life version of the messages those books portrayed. If you want to understand where humans are going, you must understand where we’ve been. Anthropology turned out to be the perfect intersection of biology and sociology, two fields most people treat as completely separate.

Coming into Phillips Academy, I had no idea what anthropology was; however, after exploring the field and its importance, I felt like I had to help share what I learned. This desire to inspire others made me pursue a leadership role with the club and the Peabody Institute, not because I had everything figured out, but because I wanted to guide others into learning anthropology’s importance.

Looking ahead, I’m really excited to work with the Peabody. We have a professional archaeological institute on our campus, and most students walk right past it. Next year I want to help encourage students to use this valuable resource to explore our past and shape the understanding of our futures. Working with Aaron, we envision a place where genuine questions can be passionately explored, and where the work we do helps expand people’s worldviews.

Three young men standing in a row at a table, looking at ancient collections of bone and stone.
Barrett (left) at a Peabody event organized by the Phillips Academy Biology Club.

In the Dean of Archaeology Office

Contributed by Lainie Schultz

In January of this year, Peabody Institute staff were kicked out of the Peabody Institute building as the start of renovations loomed near. Fortunately, construction elsewhere at Phillips Academy meant that the Dean of Students moved into new digs, leaving available their suite in the basement of George Washington Hall to claim as our temporary-own. A Goldilocks fit, the space had five desks available for five Peabody folk, plus a bonus meeting room for meetings.

Or – could it be a meeting room for classes? Lore tells of Peabody staff moving into the School Room on the Abbot Academy campus for the first phase of building renovations. To continue teaching classes, staff valiantly packed up boxes of collections, carrying them from classroom to classroom along with all their teaching supplies: gloves, ethafoam, trays, and, goodness help them, laptops.

I wasn’t at the Peabody yet, so I have only heard the tale. It sounded very impressive and intrepid and like quite the adventure, and every lazy bone in my body knew I wanted nothing to do with it. And so, with my colleagues, I began carefully planning every piece of furniture we would bring over to our GW bonus room, with every permutation of every collections activity thought out. We measured twice and cut once, determined to make this suite available for teaching.

There is nothing more satisfying than a carefully considered plan that actually goes exactly as intended. Is it sometimes maybe slightly cramped? Yes. Does it always work? Yes. Am I a little smug? Oh, heck, yes.

Trying our hands (and waists and legs) at some new instruments with MUS410 Your Musical Brain.

Meeting the Inuit who met the Vikings with HSS100B Sojourns Across a Connected World.

Prepping for the ceramics studio with ART302 Clay and the Ancestral Pot. (What? Room to stand up and walk around? Incredible.)

Imagining the world of the New Testament with PHR330 New Testament.

Want to see more? Come on by! We accept you.

Hanford and Time Zero

Submitted by John Bergman-McCool

Hanford and reactor as seen from across the Columbia River. PHOTO: by nblumhardt 

In the late 1940s, former Manhattan Project scientist and Nobel Prize chemist, Willard Libby, developed a powerful tool for dating archaeological remains using radioactive decay. Organic materials, such as wood, absorb radioactive carbon-14 isotopes from the environment. Upon death C-14 decays at a steady rate of ½ every 5,730 years, a phenomenon called a half-life. To simplify the process massively; the remaining C-14 in organic remains can be measured to determine the date of death.

This dating method was complicated by nuclear testing, which doubled the amount of C-14 in the environment. The global impact of human activity on the climate and environment, including nuclear testing, led to the proposal of a new geologic era that began in 1950, the Anthropocene. Although not officially accepted as a new epoch due to lack of consensus regarding the start date, there is no denying the atomic age has changed the planet.

When I was a baby archaeologist, freshly graduated with an undergraduate degree, the second project I worked on was an archaeological survey on the Hanford Nuclear Reservation in Washington State. The Hanford site was part of the Manhattan project and home to reactors and processing plants that supplied plutonium to the military during the Second World War. After the war, plutonium production at the site was fueled by the cold war arms race and continued for almost thirty years. It is now considered the most contaminated site in America.

Map of the Hanford Site: DEPARTMENT OF ENERGY

By the time I worked at the Hanford Site, the reactors were decommissioned and entombed in steel sarcophagi, a process called ‘cocooning.’ Cleanup at the site had been going on for decades. Our survey area, though large, was located far away from the reactor sites. From my perspective, the nuclear reservation was huge, seemingly empty and very quiet.

The survey project covered thousands of acres and included mile-long transects. The landscape of the Columbia Plateau is beautiful. The ground is covered in sandy soil and dotted with sage brush. On hot days the smell of sage is dizzying.

We found and recorded can dumps, historic artifact scatters, and a handful of isolated stone tools. The area has an Indigenous history that dates back at least 11,000 years. More recently, the site was used as ranch land and was home to homesteads, farmsteads, and townsites. When the site was commissioned, the existing communities were evicted and the towns razed.

If I had concerns about working on a nuclear reservation, hours of safety training helped quiet some anxiety I had going into the project. I was still new to archaeology, so my attention was mostly focused on learning and doing a good job. We had one heat-exhaustion scare, so hot temperatures seemed like the project’s most pressing danger.

However, one day while working on the banks of the Columbia River, where the post-eviction remains of the town of Hanford looked like they were bulldozed into the river, nuclear activists in kayaks came close enough to ask us what we had witnessed on the site. This encounter, along with others like test wells and magenta and yellow barricades denoting radioactive hazards cut through the seeming normalcy of the project.

My memories of the project at Hanford have been freshly recalled because I’ve been listening to the Time Zero podcast. Time Zero tells the tale of the nuclearized world. Its creator, Sean J Patrick Carney is an artist, writer, and composer.

Carney tells the story of nuclear development through the eyes of Indigenous and non-native activists, historians, downwinders, artists, and archaeologists. Rather than a dry retelling of the history of nuclear development, the people and locations he presents keep the content engaging. At times the podcast delves into a critique of pop culture and at other times revisits catastrophes both well-trodden and lesser known.

As an example, growing up in eastern Washington State, I heard whispers of cancers attributed to but never concretely pinned to the Hanford site. Time Zero briefly covered the Green Run, the 1949 planned release of radioactive Iodine-131 from Hanford that would allow the government to develop technologies for tracking nuclear particles in the environment.

A National Parks Service history of the Green Run explained that the experiment was botched, releasing twice the amount iodine than planned. Unforeseen weather conditions blew the particles all across central Oregon and eastern Washington. While this release was considerable, the total amount of radioactive iodine over the three decades of work at Hanford was nine thousand times that of the Green Run.

The podcast is dense and full of too many facts to recount in this blog. If you are a fan of reading, the podcast has an accompanying Substack with free access. It includes images that provide context for readers and listeners alike.

The relevancy of Time Zero is particularly potent now, as the tech sector is seeking energy for data centers central to the development of AI technologies. Nuclear is often mentioned as a clean and safe option and advocates of nuclear energy argue for ramping up construction of new power plants.

Yet, the history of nuclear technology across the world, and in the United States specifically, includes instances of removal and contamination of people caused by extraction, production, and testing of nuclear products. As Carney and his Indigenous collaborators point out, no one in the U.S. has borne the burden of the Atomic age more directly than the Indigenous communities.

Indigenous lands have been and still are considered expendable to the nuclear industry. Most of the uranium mining, bomb-testing, and planned storage of waste materials has targeted Native lands. It’s a legacy that is at risk of being repeated if the tech industry is to be believed.

The Anthropocene dawned somewhere between 300 and 70 years ago. The lasting impact of the epoch is outsized compared to its young age. Half-lifes of spent nuclear fuel are geologic in scale and almost unfathomable. Plutonium decays at a rate of ½ every 24,100 years. It will be considered safe in 240,000 years. Uranium decays at ½ every 4.46 billion years (roughly the age of our planet). Nuclear’ s longevity is probably the most impactful takeaway from Time Zero.

Go check out the podcast and site. Though the material is heavy, there is hope that comes from art and activism.

Time Zero website:

https://timezeropod.substack.com/

Testing on native lands:

https://nuclearprinceton.princeton.edu/nuclear-weapons-testing

The Green Run:

https://www.nps.gov/articles/000/the-green-run.htm

Robot Reading

Contributed by John Bergman-McCool

AI seems to be everywhere these days. A recent real-world example of AI creep came during this year’s Super Bowl where roughly 25% of the ads that aired were about AI or utilized AI to generate ad content. In general, the ads promised increased productivity and greater inclusion of AI in our everyday lives.

Aside from the occasional Google Lens image search, I haven’t found a productive use for artificial intelligence in my everyday life. A recent study of ChatGPT interaction logs illustrated that, by rank, people engage AI most for creative composition, “romantic” role-playing, planning, and as a source of general information. Productive uses for AI, including coding and academic composition, came in farther down the list.

In my work at the Peabody, I engage in data management tasks that are repetitive or deal with large amounts of data. I have learned to use Excel tools to make my work more efficient (VLOOKUP- if you know, you know). However, some tasks are more complicated and in recent years we have explored AI as a tool for processing them.

Example of catalog card with provenience information to extract.

One such complicated process is transcribing institutional records. We have roughly 50,000 catalog cards that are associated with our collections that were accessioned between the 1930s and 1970s. These cards hold valuable information on provenience and provenance for our collections and should be included in our database. Extracting the text from these cards would normally require time-consuming transcription of text by hand into an excel document.

As an example, in 2019 we were awarded an Abbot Academy Fund grant to hire a temporary staff member to transcribe our handwritten accession books. The process took a little over a year and, eventually, three staff members were tasked with completing the project. By comparison, the catalog cards would likely take just as much or more time to process.

Unlike the handwritten ledgers, the typed catalog cards have the benefit of being able to be converted to searchable text through the use of Optical Character Recognition (OCR). Many of us have converted a PDF into a searchable document with OCR. The technology is standard in many PDF readers these days.

Various attempts have been made over the years to use OCR to extract the text from our catalog cards. The process is complicated because, in the case of these cards, a block of text is useless unless it can be related to the field it originated from. OCR is also an imperfect technology; it can include a lot of errors. Despite these problems, it can be helped with a bit of training.

Normally, OCR spits out text in a single block, which is not helpful for isolating fields of text. It also includes many errors.

PA students embarked on the first attempt to read and extract the catalog card data. They created a computer program which read and extracted text from the cards and placed the text in corresponding fields. Even better, their model could be trained through the use of Machine Learning thereby improving the program’s accuracy over time. OCR, on its own, utilizes pattern-recognition which does not qualify as Artificial Intelligence. Once Machine Learning was incorporated the program fell squarely within the realm of AI.

This is an example of the PA student’s program user interface. The output could be improved by editing the text fields above the image of the catalog card.

Output from the program was quality checked by humans; this was one of my weekly tasks when I first started working at the Peabody. In theory, the errors I and others corrected were fed back into the program. Once the output was loaded, the program would improve with subsequent readings.

Unfortunately, the student who spearheaded this program graduated and the project fizzled out without seeing results from the Machine Learning. Not long after, I found that I was consistently going to the catalog cards for provenience information. I realized that the project had serious benefits for our data management and I decided to take it on in my free time.

I found Tesseract OCR, a free and powerful tool for extracting text from images. I learned to use it in concert with tools to target specific areas of the cards so that the extracted text could be associated with its field of origin. The results were not great, so I learned how to improve the quality by correcting errors and feeding them back into the program. I basically recreated a very crude, inelegant and less functional version of the student program.

Early training showed that the program was probably not going to improve without a lot of input. I decided to stop working on the project at that point.

In the intervening years, AI tools have been developed that can read text with greater accuracy. We learned of a museum professional using Microsoft’s Power Automate to read catalog cards. We reached out and got a basic roadmap for how we could make the program work.

Very briefly, the AI Hub within Power Automate allows you to create a visual workflow that skips the need to write code. In addition to the workflow, I trained a model on ten examples of catalog cards. The training process allows you to select fields for the model to read. With the model trained and a workflow created, I was able to generate an Excel document where the extracted fields would be output.

The process of understanding how to set up the workflow, how to trigger it, and how to send the output into Excel were challenging. It required tinkering and several YouTube videos to get it function. It was not easy, but it was achievable, eventually.

And now, the Peabody has entered the AI age. If you need any advice on how to set up a workflow for reading documents, please feel free to reach out to me. Best of luck in your AI exploits.

This Year 125 Years Ago

Contributed by Lainie Schultz

  • Photograph of Queen Victoria with Illustrated London News masthead and headline "Death of the Queen".
  • 32 cent US stamp with drawing of Margaret Mead and Samoan designs and palm tree in background.
  • Artwork depicting British and Japanese on one side, Boxers on the other, firing guns.
  • Street in Melbourne decorated with flags and garlands, with giant arch stretching across road and reading "Melbourne Rejoices in the Commonwealth".
  • Photograph of Booth's vacuum cleaner on city street, with horse harnessed and people gathered.
  • Drawing of jug within which is text "Jagtime Johnson's Ragtime March Characteristic Two-Step Fred L. Ryder" and comical drawings of five men in various poses
  • Team photograph of the 1901 Chicago White Stockings
  • Photograph of the Nobel Peace medal, obverse
  • Advertisement for the 1901 Kidder Steam Runabout motor vehicle, showing woman sitting in driver's seat
  • 1901 Chicago White Stockings.

Hitting a major birthday like a 125th is no small thing. Even institutions established to preserve history in perpetuity – like, say, an archaeology museum – rarely last even a fraction of that time. The Robert S. Peabody Institute of Archaeology reaches this milestone on March 21, and it offers a moment for introspection: how did we manage to make it this long? What has the Peabody done in that time? What from our past continues to inspire us today – whether as something we seek to sustain or that guides us toward new directions?

I hope you aren’t now looking at me to answer any of these questions. These are thoughts to let tumble around the entirety of this anniversary year, and beyond. (Possibly we should all start our quasquicentennial with a (re)reading of “Glory, Trouble, and Renaissance at the Robert S. Peabody Museum of Archaeology” – because, yes, Emma, I am fancy!).

Instead, I want to go all the way back to the beginning. If we are going to ask how far the Peabody has gone, we have to know where the Peabody started. This makes me wonder: What was the world the Peabody was born into? What did 1901 look like? With the help of Google, below is an absurdly partial snapshot of life as the Peabody came onto the scene.

[Word of warning: despite my best intentions, it turns out that when you’re doing a Google search, in English, with an internet connection in MA, and an education obtained almost entirely in the US, Canada, and Australia; and when you’re trying to find examples of events that you think will be “recognizable” and “interesting” – you end up with a pretty biased list. You would almost think from my snapshot below that the only noteworthy things to happen came out of the US and Great Britain (which I think is wrong?). Please bear in mind AAALLLLLL the other places and people and happenings not remotely referenced here while reading.]

In no particular order and with truly no claims of significance:

A lot a lot a lot of people died. Some of these deaths were noted by historians, and even the general public. These included: Queen Victoria (at the time the longest reigning monarch of Great Britain); President William McKinley (the third US sitting president to be assassinated); and Cecil Franklin Patch Bancroft (the 8th Principal of Andover’s Phillips Academy).

A lot a lot a lot of people were born. Even more than the number of people who died. Eventually history would care about some of them. These included: Louis Armstrong, Walt Disney, Hirohito, Langston Hughes, Margaret Mead, and Ed Sullivan.

As typical, there were far too many military engagements. Such as: the Second Boer War in South Africa (then ongoing); the Philippine-American War (then ongoing); the War of a Thousand Days/Colombian civil war (then ongoing); and the Boxer Uprising/Yihetuan Movement in China (formally ended with the signing of the Boxer Protocol).

Other political-type stuff happened: The six British colonies of Australia federated to form the Commonwealth of Australia. The US’s Platt Amendment made Cuba a US protectorate. The US and Great Britain signed the Hay-Pauncefote Treaty, giving the US exclusive right to build and manage a canal in Panama. In his first annual message to Congress, US President Theodore Roosevelt stressed the need to treat Native Americans as individuals rather than as members of separate sovereign nations, and to break up tribal funds in the same way allotment broke up tribal lands.

We got some cool new technologies: Guglielmo Marconi sent the first transatlantic radio transmission; it said “S.” The first United Kingdom Fingerprint Bureau was established at Scotland Yard, using Edward Henry’s classification system; it worked way better than phrenology. Hubert Cecil Booth patented a dust removing suction cleaner and started offering mobile cleaning services; his vacuum was large enough to frighten horses (it was also drawn by horses. This sounds messy). Satori Kato introduced his vacuum-dried coffee granules – aka instant coffee – at the Pan-American Exposition in Buffalo, NY. (Also where President McKinley was shot. Yikes.).

There was a bunch of art and culture: Beatrix Potter published the Tale of Peter Rabbit. Elisabeth Förster-Nietzsche posthumously published her brother Friedrich’s The Will to Power. H.G. Wells got it close with The First Men in the Moon (would have nailed it with first man on the moon…). Anton Chekhov’s play “Three Sisters” premiered at the Moscow Art Theatre. Vincent Van Gogh had his first retrospective, in a gallery in Paris. Pablo Picasso had his first major exhibit, also in a gallery in Paris. Sergei Rachmaninoff composed Piano Concerto No. 2; Claude Debussy offered Pour le piano; and Edward Elgar started his Pomp and Circumstance series with Marches No. 1 and 2 ( graduation ceremonies had no idea what was coming for them). But Americans REALLY loved parlor ballads, ragtime, and marching band music; they still could not get enough of Sousa’s Band’s Stars and Stripes Forever.

Are sports art and culture? Let’s just call it sports: The Winnipeg Victorias edged out the Montreal Shamrocks to win the Stanley Cup. Fútbol Club Atlético River Plate was founded in Argentina. The American League was established and the Chicago White Stockings (adorable!) won the first AL pennant. The Pittsburg Pirates took the National League pennant.

The first Nobel Prizes were awarded in Stockholm to Wilhelm Röntgen (Physics), Jacobus Henricus van ‘t Hoff (Chemistry), Emil von Behring (Medicine), Sully Prudhomme (Literature), and jointly to Frédéric Passy and Jean Henry Dunant (Peace).

In other odds and ends: J.P. Morgan incorporated U.S. Steel as the first billion-dollar corporation. Mr. Walgreen opened the first Walgreens. The first successful loop-the-loop roller coaster opened on Coney Island (it was called the Loop-the-Loop). Connecticut set the first speed limit law (12 mph in cities; 15 mph on country roads) and forced cars to stop if they were scaring horses. Schoolteacher Annie Edson Taylor celebrated her 63rd birthday by going over Niagara Falls in a barrel and surviving, proving…something?

Immediately closer to home: fifteen young women graduated from Abbot Academy, and William Clarence Matthews graduated from Phillips Academy. No one knew it yet, but Matthews would go from leading the batting average on Harvard’s baseball team to playing on the Burlington, Vermont team of the Northern League, making him the only Black player in any white professional baseball league at the time. When he was barred from playing in the Major League he had to settle for being a lawyer instead, eventually getting appointed to the Justice Department by President Calvin Coolidge. Big mistake, MLB. Huge.

Andover baseball team, 1901. Archives & Special Collections, Phillips Academy, Andover, Mass.

Finally, Churchill House was moved a block down Main Street, to make room for construction of the Peabody Institute building. And the rest is history.

[For more on gallery images: Illustrated London News; Margaret Mead stamp; British and Japanese forces engage Boxers in battle; Melbourne Rejoices in the Commonwealth; Booth’s vacuum cleaner at work, 1903; Jagtime Johnson’s Ragtime March; 1901 Chicago White Stockings; Nobel Prize medal; 1901 Kidder Steam Runabout; 1901 Circle]

January 2026 Building Update

Contributed by John Bergman-McCool

With construction in our building slated to start this month we have been busy packing up the Peabody. The collections are staying onsite in the recently renovated basement, but everything else that isn’t nailed down from the first floor through the attic has been moved to our temporary office in George Washington Hall (known on campus as “GW”) or to an offsite storage facility.

In addition to packing, we have taken steps to protect the collections during construction. Though very little construction is planned in the basement, renovations in the rest of the building will inevitably result in dust and small bits of debris in the collections areas. To keep everything clean, and avoid weeks of post construction cleaning, we have covered the metal shelving in plastic sheeting. The library has been prepared in a similar fashion.

This week, we made the move to our temporary office in the former Dean of Student’s Office in GW Hall. We’re thankful to have been welcomed by many of our new neighbors. Stop by and say hi if you are in the area.

Now for some pictures of the preparations:

Room 207:

Library:

South Gallery:

Hornblower Gallery:

Basement:

Why We Started the AAS Blog

Contributed by Jack Angelo ’26

Homepage of the AAS blog site

My name is Jack Angelo and I am a board member and Blog Lead in Andover’s Anthropological Society, a student club we created here at Phillips Academy last year. I first became interested in Anthropology because of the many different topics it could cover, allowing someone to perform curiosity-based research about whatever subject matter interests them. When the other board members and I created the club, we knew most of our members’ research and curiosity would be directed towards our more major projects working in tandem with the Peabody Institute. But, understanding that the larger, focused research projects did not allow total intellectual freedom for the whole club, and that it did not spread our club’s messaging to the whole campus, we decided to create the Andover Anthropological Society Blog Site.

Our blog has now run for almost nine months and has served as an amazing display of the various topics our members are interested in, such as Corporate Consumerism in America, The Rise of Digital Tribalism, and the History of Art in Quarantine. Each post reflects what genuinely interests our writers, allowing people to contribute to the club without having to take part in our larger projects. In this way, the blog has developed into exactly the kind of free representational space we hoped for.

Additionally, the blog is a public source for anybody to read to understand our club’s messaging or to just further their interest in anthropology. We wanted to make sure that what we’re doing in AAS isn’t limited to the people who show up to meetings. By putting our work online, we’re giving the whole Andover community access to the topics we’re exploring and the research our members are doing. If someone’s curious about anthropology but doesn’t know where to start, or if they just want to read about a specific topic, the blog is there for them.

Ultimately, the AAS Blog is about making anthropology accessible. We wanted to create something that anyone could engage with, regardless of whether they’re in the club or have any background in the field. By keeping our work public and covering topics that connect to everyday life, we’ve built a resource that’s open to the entire Andover community.

Archaeology with No Thumbs

Contributed by Lainie Schultz

Sometimes it’s hard to be an archaeologist. You tell people what you do and watch their excitement dim as you say “No. Not dinosaurs.”  Sometimes people think you’re Indiana Jones, so that’s a little better, but then you have to explain that actually looting’s not ok, and maybe we should discuss the ethics of collecting? Plus, you’ve never once fought a Nazi. (You do, however, wear an awesome hat.)

Not an archaeologist. (Via ChatGPT. I didn’t even need to prompt the pyramid.)

Some would argue this is the greatest real-world problem archaeologists today face. Incredibly, hope for the field has finally arrived – and it’s all thanks to LEGO.

FIRST® LEGO® League (FLL) is a global program designed to encourage children in hands-on STEM learning. Among its major activities is the FIRST LEGO League Challenge, an annual competition for students aged 9-16 that has them working in teams to design, build, and code their own LEGO robot and complete a research-driven Innovation Project that identifies and solves a real-world problem related to a specific scientific theme. This year, the Challenge theme was UNEARTHED, inviting FLL teams to learn about the field of archaeology, identify a real-world problem faced by archaeologists, and propose an innovative solution.

Never have archaeologists been so popular! As soon as the Challenge kicked off, the Peabody began receiving requests from teams hoping to meet with an archaeologist and find out what challenges they’d want to see solved. And, of course, we weren’t remotely alone in this. I had a lot of fun this fall checking in with colleagues at other institutions, as we collectively realized how big the FLL Challenge is. The Society of American Archaeologists (SAA) even convened a panel of experts (including our own Ryan Wheeler!) for a webinar specifically designed for participants in the UNEARTHED season, just to help manage all the requests people were receiving. Exploring Archaeological Challenges: A Webinar for FIRST® LEGO® League and Robotics Teams was recorded and posted on the SAA’s YouTube channel, massively eclipsing in viewership all the channel’s other recordings combined.

We also heard from teams once they had their projects and were ready for feedback on the problems they’d selected and the solutions they’d proposed. Projects broadly sought either to help archaeologists do their jobs more easily with sustainable solutions, or to help non-archaeologists better understand the field and access archaeological information. Ideas included such products as a Swiss Army trowel, and an artifact cleaning and processing machine with residue-testing capabilities. They sought to help people grasp the size of ancient monuments through comparison with a football stadium for scale, and harnessed the sun to power absolutely anything you could imagine. They ranged in size, scope, and ambition, and all were far more sophisticated than I have represented here.

We might have initially been both a little concerned and a little amused when we first learned about this competition (an FLL reel Ryan found on Instagram had a lot more fire and explosions than we generally like to associate with archaeology!), but the projects that teams have come up with have truly been impressive. Most impressive of all has been the amount of thought and attention these young students have put into learning about the field of archaeology, and the care they have put into making it better for the future. I can only imagine what might be the long-term impacts of this program on the next generation of archaeologists.

Though perhaps their biggest problem will be convincing people that, no. Usually they do have thumbs.

Knees help, too. (Made with ChatGPT)

Trapping a giant

Contributed by John Bergman-McCool

In a past blog post, I shared that we regularly monitor glue traps for signs of insect activity around our building. The traps are not a method for controlling insect populations, rather, they alert us to the presence of unwanted pests that pose a danger to the collections. When unwanted bugs are found we have a set of tools we can employ to remove them while minimizing risk to the health of our collection and colleagues. These tools include vacuuming and freezing collections.

Now, I imagine that many readers (probably most of you) are not excited by pictures of bugs, but earlier this fall, we trapped an unknown insect that I felt was worthy of the spotlight.

Unknown Beetle removed from glue trap for easier identification

This remarkable beetle is the largest insect that I’ve seen in our traps. Beyond it’s massive size, any new or unknown bug is cause for excitement for a few reasons. First, we typically see the same three or four insects throughout the year. Second, we need to find out whether the insect is cause for alarm.

I snapped a few pictures and loaded them into Google’s ‘search by image’ function. Pretty quickly I learned that this guy is a Hermit Flower Beetle (or that is my best guess). They pose no danger to the collection. The larva live inside dead or rotting logs and play an important role in recycling wood and the nutrient cycle. The adults are frequently found around flowers. Somehow this one wandered into our building and ended up in one of our traps.

The University of Minnesota Extension webpage is a helpful identification resource

Unfortunately, once in our trap, the beetle died and became a food source for a carpet beetle, an insect we absolutely do not want in our collection. Even if an insect is not actively detrimental, it can always pose a risk.

Previously unknown Hermit Flower Beetle still in glue trap with carpet beetle outlined in red