Mapping the spatial configuration of kinship: baking at a Cretan village in the late 19th-early 20th c.

A big aspect of the House Poetics project is trying to figure out the extent to which the spatial blueprint we discover archaeologically can be correlated to the actual social patterning of kinship (or house) relations.

A really interesting option emerged in the course of a parallel (and related) approach to assemblages (of the Deleuzian kind), where I looked at bread making as a chaîne opératoire linked with pottery making  (a collaboration with Despina Catapoti, appearing in print during 2020 in the Journal of Material Culture).

In the process of that I did some ethnographic work mapping the distribution of bread ovens in a mountainous village in Crete, linking them to local genealogies as recounted to me by villagers and members of my own family. A key finding was that while households would operate through a ‘nuclear family’ scheme, with separate residence and ownership of land and resources, in practice and for certain routine activities, such as bread making, they would regularly pool resources and use shared facilities, like the bread ovens. Not every nuclear family household would own a bread oven, but every nuclear family household baked with the same regularity (approximately every 2-3 weeks). Different families would have access to a shared bread oven, on the basis of extended kinship, but many families made use of bread ovens on the basis of neighbouring residence (although in a village of such a small size, kinship ties among all villagers were pervasive, and therefore, even though people might have shared bread ovens with non-immediate relatives, they still probably had some form blood or kin-through-marriage relation).

The most interesting finding of this comparison, was that while ownership of resources was distinct, i.e. each family had its own house, land and other moveable property, access to facilities like bread ovens [necessary for the daily subsistence of each family] was shared, and what’s even more striking, shared smoothly, without conflict. An informal ‘booking’ system was at place, where each family would ‘book’ baking time each week, but more common was the pooling together of resources into large-scale bake offs: so, each family would bring their own portion of grain and they would also get the equivalent in baked goods, but they would contribute fuel and labour co-operatively so that the bread required by each different family in several weeks would be made in one baking event. This kind of event did not have the indexical features of what we often like to call ‘feasting’ in the archaeological record (although the precise meaning and material correlates of feasting are continuously re-assessed in recent scholarship)  as it was more mundane and regular, however, it involved fairly large numbers of people, as most of the ‘nuclear’ families involved would comprise at least between 5 and 8 members, who would all participate in various ways and would need to be fed during the process.

The other aspect that was of interest was the spatial arrangement of these ovens in distinct neighbourhoods around the village; I was able to map at least 5 surviving structures, whereas I also collected information about 5-6 others that were no longer in existence. This set of data requires a lot more analysis, but from a first look, it seems that oven structures were shared both within the broader kin group which did not always reside in close proximity, and amongst neighbours, who resided close to one another without sharing kin ties. The sharing of resources like the bread ovens was thus regulated both by functional necessity, i.e. needing to bake regularly, and convenience, i.e. needing a facility in relatively easy access. At the same time though, ‘patterns of sharing’ were evident, where families would have their ‘regular’ oven,  whether access to that was provided through kin membership, or through neighbourhood residence; so family X would regularly bake in Oven A, even though they were not immediate blood relatives; while Family Y would only bake at their maternal bread Oven B, even though it was a long way from their actual house.

The warmth of affective ties emerging through this sharing was striking in all the oral testimonies collected. This kind of emotional connection is not easily detected ‘in the ground’, from the material residue we deal with archaeologically, but it can be grasped through the long-term engagement with such practices, and this, archaeology can ‘recover’ well.

House Poetics goes to New Orleans (January 2018)

The joy that is MSCA has a really healthy research budget which means that it is possible to go to conferences again, and even venture a little further afield than usual. For this first foray of House Poetics into the conference circuit, I decided to present an ethnographic aspect of the project at the Society for Historical Archaeology Annual Conference, (Landscapes, Entrepôts, and Global Currents, New Orleans, USA, 3-7 January 2018) ; partly because the archaeological component is still in the process of gathering data and does not have many results to present at this stage; and partly because I was interested in finding out how colleagues working in completely different regions and periods deal with similar research questions, such as those addressed in House Poetics.

Some of these questions involve understanding the new role archaeology is (or should be) playing within the local communities. The call for more symmetrical approaches in archaeology is well-established (e.g. see Shanks 2008; Olsen & Witmore 2015) and has over the years extended beyond the analysis of archaeological  material to encompass the relations we, as archaeologists, have with the contemporary communities where our archaeological practice takes place. In Greece, such relations are far from symmetrical and the co-existence of archaeology, the state and the public can range from reluctant, to confused and thorny at the best of times (loads of excellent work has already been written on this, e.g. Hamilakis 2007; Tziovas 2014). In the context of the House Poetics project my main angle in engaging with these questions has to do with boundaries: the boundaries of the community, the boundaries of what is considered ‘ours’, the boundaries outside which otherhood is situated and how these intersect with official archaeological directives.

The more interesting outcome of this was to listen to work on collaborative co-creation of content and knowledge about the past between specialists (archaeologists/historians) and local communities. The vibrancy of the interactions was awe inspiring and brought hard to home that this aspect is largely missing from the Greek context (but great advances with loads of exciting archaeological ethnography projects have been made in recent years; e.g. Kyriakidis & Anagnostopoulos 2016). Listening to colleagues working in the ‘New World’, where the experience of colonialism has been pervasive and has, as a result, influenced and drove forward more collaborative approaches in doing archaeology with and within the community, made me realise that what I was grappling with (in the Greek context) was a twofold understanding of ownership (which is a central concept in the consideration of House societies; I also have a long standing interest on the idea of ownership).  I was arguing that the current and the most common understanding of ownership (of the past; of archaeological resources; of memory) has been what can be best described as gate keeping, relying on asymmetrical conditions of access and control. This approach has not favoured close collaboration of archaeologists and ‘the public’; if anything, it has fostered a frosty and suspicious co-existence. On the other hand, ownership as shared responsibility, custodianship and care is a much more fruitful way of creating and nurturing collaborative conditions of trust. This is something that Houses deeply rely on (and I continue to be fascinated by).

PS: The music in New Orleans was out of this world!