Announcer: This is a Getty Podcast.
Host: What covers over seventy one percent of the
earth’s surface, but is a huge challenge to carry home?
It’s water!
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!
How long does it take you to get a sip of water?
Maybe it’s the time it takes to walk to the kitchen
and turn on the sink.
Or the time it takes to go from the classroom to the
hallway water fountain.
Or maybe you’ve already got a water bottle in arm’s reach.
We all need water to survive, so as people built towns and
cities, we had to find ways to bring water along with us.
Today’s object was one tool people used for that.
It’s a special type of Greek water jug called a hydria.
Like many others from this period, this water jug was
painted with a beautiful scene.
This time, with three women, wearing a kind of draped
tunic called a “chiton.” [women laugh] They’re getting
ready, holding jewelry, mirrors, and other objects.
Lucky for us, one of these ladies is dying to spill.
Woman on the Hydria: Rumor has it, you’re interested
in some ancient gossip.
[women laugh]
Well, get yourself a glass and come on over, Sugar, because
we might be on a water jug, but we’re here to spill the tea.
First up, get a good look at us!
We’re on a type of vase called a “hydria” which ancient Greeks
used to carry water around.
Back before indoor plumbing, it was the only
way to stay “hydria-ated.”
Alright—tough crowd.
Look, if you’re gonna be rude, you can go.
We’ve got plenty to gossip about amongst ourselves.
There are three of us ladies painted on this
hydria, after all.
I’m the one who has had the luxury of sitting for the past
two thousand, four hundred years, ever since we were
made back in Athens, Greece.
The women on either side of me?
They had to stand this entire time.
[aside] Do you ladies need a water break?
Other Woman: Nah, we’re good.
Thanks, Doll.
Woman on the Hydria: Our hydria was probably used for special
occasions, such as festivals or when company came over.
Sort of like having special plates for Thanksgiving instead
of using your everyday set.
Our hydria is a little smaller than a volleyball.
That's smaller than your regular, everyday hydrias, which
had to be large to make sure you weren't running to the water
fountain a hundred times a day.
Some hydrias are twice our size!
We're also more decorated than everyday Hydrias, which
were usually just plain clay.
Our hydria is mostly painted black, except for
us, the three figures, that are a gorgeous red color.
How did the Greeks make us so striking?
Honey, it’s all about terracotta.
Terracotta means “baked earth” and the earth around Athens
had a lot of iron oxide in it.
The iron gives our vase a distinctive red color.
To add decoration, pottery workers painted with a mixture
of clay and water called “slip.” The slip was barely visible
when it was first added on.
But never underestimate the power of turning up the heat!
As potters carefully heated and cooled their creations,
trapping and releasing oxygen and smoke, the slip would
react differently from the unpainted areas of the pottery.
As a result, the unpainted areas would stay red, while
the painted areas would turn a stunning shade of black.
For generations, Athenian potters would leave the
backgrounds red and use slip to paint figures in black.
But one day, about two thousand, five hundred years ago, some
unknown artisan had an idea!
Instead of painting the figures and leaving the
background red, this potter decided to reverse it.
Soon, the new style took over, and terracotta
was decorated with the background in black, while
the figures remained in red.
[applause]
And that’s how we’re styled, Darling.
Like the look?
You can try it yourself.
What would it be like to draw a picture only by
coloring the background?
And what would you choose to depict?
Greek potters painted everything from epic mythological heroes
to mundane scenes of daily life.
Now, the picture might be the first thing that catches
your eye about our vase, but keep looking and you’ll also
notice three distinct handles.
Two stick out on the sides and one sticks out on the back.
The two side handles were used to hold the Hydria while
filling or carrying water, while the back handle made it
easier to pour the water out.
Now, where might that water come from?
Some people might journey to a nearby river.
Others might find a natural spring that
came up from the ground.
Over time, Greeks developed basic plumbing, and were able
to transport the water from the countryside to a communal
fountain in a town or city!
To protect these fountains from the weather, they
would sometimes build covered pavilions—think
big stone columns holding up a simple roof.
These buildings were called “fountain houses.” And,
Honey, it was very important work, carrying water from
a fountain house back home.
It’s easy to forget these days, when you can just turn
on a tap in the kitchen, just how often we use water.
Not to mention, how much water we all use!
Up for a little experiment?
Do you think you can calculate how much water you use in a day?
I sure hope you’ve flushed the toilet.
That’s about 2 gallons of water right there—each time!
Taken a shower?
That might be between 15–20 gallons.
And then of course there’s all the water that’s used
by drinking or cooking or cleaning dishes!
Now, can you imagine having to carry every
gallon of water you used?
Honey, my arms are tired just thinking about it.
But it wasn’t all bad news.
For some women, getting water had a silver lining.
Society expected Greek women and girls to stick close to home.
So while getting water from a fountain house was
a daily chore...it was also a social occasion!
In the days before podcasts, FaceTime, and social media,
if you wanted to know what was what, you had to get it
straight from the source.
In fact that reminds me—did you hear what happened
between Helene and Anastassia?
No?
Oh my goddess, well...
Helene and Anastassia were daughters of two
rival potters in Athens.
Groups of craftsmen usually worked in the same area of town.
In Athens, potters were in the Kerameikos district
near the edge of the city.
You’d think that two families living in the same part of
town, working in the industry might have enough in common
that they would become friends, but no such luck.
Whether it was fear over losing customers or
professional jealousy, feuds popped up constantly.
In fact, a Greek proverb about rivalries used
potters as its metaphor!
Even the philosopher Aristotle wrote about “Potter against
Potter.” And I assure you, he was not talking about wizards...
All this to say, while potters were known to be competitive,
Helene and Anastassia did not share their fathers’ spite.
They had met as children while their mothers gathered
water, and were now just old enough to go themselves.
They tried to time their trips so they could play and
talk together while walking back from the fountain house.
But then, a whole week went by without Helene seeing
Anastassia even once!
Hey, look, life gets busy; you know how it is.
It was the week of the festival, after all!
At least, that’s what Helene told herself the first time
Anastassia didn’t show.
But after a few days, Helene started to get worried that
Anastassia was avoiding her.
That day, Helene went to the fountain house twice: once for
the day’s regular water with her large hydria, and then a second
time with us to pick up extra water for celebrating with.
There was still no sign of Anastassia.
As Helene waited in line for water from the fountain house
with other girls and women, she looked down sadly at the hydria
in her hand...and she saw us!
Yes, that’s right.
The three of us, red-figures on black, all
chatting with each other.
And Helene realized that she shouldn’t make assumptions,
when she could just ask.
Okay, she couldn’t ask about Anastassia outright.
Word might get back to her father about the friendship
with his rival’s daughter, and then where would they be?
But the power of gossip is real—and really important.
Helene squared her shoulders and charged into the fountain
house to make small talk.
To get the hot goss she needed, Helene first needed to lend
a sympathetic ear...or hand.
She joined with two young women discussing
a new play by Sophocles.
She held a toddler as the mother filled her water jug and
chatted about the cost of wool.
She listened to a servant complain about how many
parties her employers wanted to have that winter.
And then, as Helene was helping an elderly woman carry her
hydria home, Helene got the gossip she really needed.
The elderly woman was Anastassia’s grandmother!
And she was only there because Anastassia had twisted
her ankle the week before.
Anastassia would be alright, but she was not supposed to get out
of bed at all for twenty days.
This was the newest cure recommended in a recent book by
the trendy doctor Hippocrates.
Maybe you’ve heard of him—does the Hippocratic
Oath ring a bell?
Anyway, Helene breathed a sigh of relief.
Anastassia wasn’t mad at her after all!
That night, Helene came up with a plan to see her friend.
Helene made sure to go on multiple trips to the fountain
house again the next day.
When she saw Anastassia’s grandmother there, she offered
to carry the old woman’s water again, and this time, got to
sneak in and see her bedridden friend for a short time.
We were placed on a small table and watched the two
friends as they caught up on a whole week’s worth of gossip.
There’s nothing like an in-person hang, is there?
They decided then and there to find a way to temper
their fathers’ rivalry so they wouldn’t have
to sneak around anymore.
But that’s a story for another time.
Phew, am I parched from all that chatting.
Anyone have some water?
Hello?
Anyone?
Host: I hope you enjoyed learning about Greek
pottery and water!
Join us next time when a spirited Satyr
gem does his thing.
To see photographs of the hydria and learn more,
visit our website at Getty dot edu slash podcasts.
This episode was written by Claire Hupy and
produced by Zoe Goldman.
Hailey Wu Chow voiced our hydria figure.
Theme music, mixing and sound design by Alexandra Kalinowski.
Christopher Sprinkle is executive producer.
Special thanks to curators Ken Lapatin, Judith Barr, Hana
Sugioka, and David Saunders.
Catch you next time!