Announcer: This is a Getty podcast.
Host: Don’t walk—run!—to listen to this episode.
This week, we’re hearing from a lamp with an unusual
shape—it’s a pair of feet!
Welcome to If Objects Could Talk, a podcast where art
and artifacts get to leave the museum vault and tell
their side of the story.
Thanks for joining us as we bring objects into the light!
Speaking of light: what do you do when it gets dark outside
and you need to see inside?
I bet you just flip a switch and presto!
More light!
But it’s not just the overhead lights in your home
that make things brighter.
It’s the glow of electronic devices, flashlights powered
by batteries, streetlights, car headlights, and the
brilliant, bright lights of big city skyscrapers.
We are rarely ever truly in the dark.
In ancient Rome, things were very different.
Apart from a big harvest moon and twinkling stars, the nights
were very, very dark and all you had were torches and oil
lamps to help illuminate it.
Today’s feet-shaped lamp was made in Asia Minor
in the first century CE.
It’s ok to laugh—he's really leaning into being the
clown of the museum vault.
Feet Lamp: Mi, mi, mi! The people want to hear from meeee!
Oh, don’t mind me, just doing some vocal warmups,
which is extra important for a pair of feet.
You know, it was starting to seem like I wasn’t going
to get my turn to share my story, which would be a shame
because I’m such a de-LIGHT.
Get it?
Because I’m a lamp?
[laughs] I crack myself up!
But not too much though!
I am made out of clay, too much cracking would be a disaster!
What was I talking about again?
Oh, yeah!
In ancient times there was no electricity, so lamps
like me were all the rage!
[applause]
Business owners used oil lamps to light their buildings
and the nearby streets.
Noblemen used lamps to light their paths when
they were out after dark.
Soldiers used them to light military forts.
But enough about those ordinary lamps, let's talk
about how a star was made.
Get it?
Because I GLOW like a star?
Whew, I am so good!
Ok, picture it: I was nothin’!
Just a ball of damp clay.
But then I was pressed into a mold and I took my shape:
a pair of sandaled feet.
I still have all ten of my toes, even 2000 years
later, if you're curious.
Then I was baked in a hot oven and my soft surface became hard.
I was ready for action!
To use me, oil was poured into holes at the top of my
feet right where a pair of ankles would be and the wick
was placed into an opening where the big toes touch.
The wick was usually a bundle of fibers like linen or
papyrus twisted together.
And the oil was usually a plant oil like olive oil.
Basically, anything you might put in a salad dressing
today could get me going.
A little flame would race down the wick and viola!
Lights on, baby!
A little bit more dramatic then just flipping a
switch, don't you think?
I'm pretty unique, as far as lamps go.
Some lamps were modeled after animals, people doing silly or
serious people things, gods and goddesses, or even funny faces.
There were lamps shaped like a foot, but a pair of feet?
In sandals?
Like me?
That's something to be admired.
And
if I'm being honest, laughed at, too.
[laughter] When my wick was lit, I looked like someone
walking on hot coals!
And you can't see it now but I used to be glazed red,
so I really used to glow.
That glazing process helped me keep liquids, like oil, in.
No leaking from me!
Yeah, I was quite the way finder as well.
I had a handle so people could grab me and do things like
make their way to the bathroom in the middle of the night.
It was in those moments I was grateful I didn't have a nose.
Sadly
my handle has since broken.
I won't say WHO did it, but it was someone with two left
feet and butter fingers.
I was made in Asia Minor, which at the time was part
of the Roman Empire and that Empire [laughs] was huge!
Huge I tell ya!
At its height, around 100 CE, and when I was made, the
Roman Empire stretched from Britain in the Northwest
to Egypt in the Southeast.
I came from somewhere in the middle.
I was kept in a beautiful domus or house.
It wasn’t very large, but it was impeccably
designed and decorated.
The home had no outside-facing windows,
as to not attract thieves.
However, it did have a large atrium, or central indoor
space, that was open at the roof to let in light and air.
My owner, Albus, was a freedman.
He was once enslaved but was granted his freedom and made
a comfortable life for himself as a vendor of fine goods.
He then later became a merchant, supplying goods
for other vendors’ stores.
Albus was a modest man and tried not to call too much
attention to himself, but every once in a while he loved to
have long dinner parties with friends and business associates.
Dinner parties were very popular in ancient Rome.
They were held in the triclinium, which translates
to “three couch room,” because it had three couches
arranged in a U-shape.
While eating, Romans reclined on these couches.
They always dined barefoot, which was so strange to
me...at least put some sandals on, ya know?
Anyway, in the hours that could pass during a dinner, the
triclinium could go from full daylight to complete darkness.
So, for the latter part of the meal, lamps lit the
space, casting a soft glow on faces, and created short paths
towards the food and drinks.
I was kept going and glowing on a lamp stand until the last
guest cleared the threshold.
During one particular dinner party, the guests were so
loud that they woke Albus' seven-year-old son, Rufus.
Little Rufus promptly fumbled in the dark house
in search of his father.
He used the sound of laughter and the faint light to find
his way to the triclinium.
When Rufus saw his father reclining, he approached him
boldly and told him he could not sleep with all of the noise
he and his guests were making!
His father and guests laughed at his fearlessness.
A fine example of a free man.
Albus told Rufus that if he could not sleep, he should play!
Albus used my light to make shadow puppets on
the wall to the delight of his son and his guests.
[cheering]
Yeah, have you ever done that?
Used your hands to make shadow puppets on the wall?
It’s very easy!
All you need are your hands, a wall, and a light.
Not me though, I am retired!
A small bedside lamp or flashlight work great.
No oil needed!
Put one hand between the light and the wall so
that you can clearly see the shadow of your hand.
Now go ahead and give yourself a wave!
By changing the shape of your hand, you can make
animals, birds, and other characters come to life.
How would you make a bunny?
A bird?
A dog?
Now here comes a real challenge: what about making
puppets with your feet?
I bet if you put your heels together and stuck
your feet out you could make a smelly butterfly!
Albus was incredible at making shadow puppets.
Just one bright idea after another.
First he made a soaring eagle, then an angry toad,
and then a mischievous hare hopping along the walls!
The shadow puppets that Albus created and his accompanying
noises made them come alive and delighted his guests.
All that playing made the dark evening seem brighter.
Pretty soon all the guests were trying their hand,
literally, at making shadow puppets, and creating
stories for one another.
It was the longest dinner party Albus ever had.
But it didn't matter, the night was brilliant!
Made even more perfect with his son by his side.
After all, Rufus was the light of his father’s life!
[Laughs] Get it?
LIGHT of his life?
I gotta million of 'em!
I’ll share more next time.
Host: I hope you enjoyed learning about
Roman homes and lamps!
Join us next time when a very fancy cat
slinks into the studio.
To see photographs of the feet lamp and learn more,
visit our website at Getty dot edu slash podcasts.
This episode was written by Tocarra Elise and
produced by Zoe Goldman.
Todd Schick voiced the lamp.
Theme music, mixing and sound design by Alexandra Kalinowski.
Christopher Sprinkle is executive producer.
Special thanks to curators Ken Lapatin and Judith Barr
and educator Lilit Sadoyan.
Catch you next time!