Clive Orton

An investigation of the fractal properties of flint microwear images

Abstract This paper reports on an investigation into the fractal dimensions of flint microwear images which has been carried out in an attempt to resolve the existing controversy over the possibility of identifying microwear types from visual inspection of high magnification images, and describes a new method for flint microwear image analysis based on fractal geometry. Fractal dimensions of surface images, which are known to relate well to human visual perception of roughness, have been computed for various types of microwear. No significant correlations have been found between the fractal properties of the digital flint images and the contacted materials.

Production and Distribution

When we consider the significance of an assemblage from a particular site we are then faced with the problem of placing the assemblage in its wider context. It is natural to try to compare the sites assemblage with those from contemporary sites in the immediate area, and perhaps also further afield, which brings us face to face with the problems of the interpretation of distributional evidence, which may be more complex than is often recognised (Fulle 1997). It may even be possible to identify local means of distribution, such as market-place barter (Abbott et al. 2007). The last thirty years have seen the widespread adoption of Geographical Information Systems (GIS) and associated technologies into archaeology (see, for example, Wheatley and Gillings 2002; Conolly and Lake 2006). This period can be divided into two phases: a simple ‘mapping’ phase, using the technology to produce location and distribution maps faster, and sometimes better, than could be done ‘by hand’. Some practitioners allowed the possibilities to run away with them, and were decried for producing visually attractive ‘pretty pictures’ which did not actually enhance the message that they were trying to convey, and may even in extreme cases have obscured it. The second phase is more analytical, and seeks to interpret rather than just admire the patterns that can readily be produced; the approach sometimes goes by the name of Geographical Information Analysis (GIA) (see O’Sullivan and Unwin 2003). Adoption of this phase has been much slower, for reasons that should become apparent below.

Pottery in Archaeology: Classification of Form and Decoration

Introduction Traditionally, the archaeological study of pottery was the study of pottery forms and typology, and in some parts of the world it still is. The analysis of pottery forms and decoration has a long history and has been in the vanguard of the development of the discipline. There are, however, many difficulties encountered in studying forms, especially if you are trying to extract information from small sherds or trying to make a quantitative study. There are many different ways of classifying forms. The choice depends partly on the existing conventions within your area of study and partly on the aims of your study. It also depends on the use to which others may wish to put your data and on the character of the collection under study. USES OF FORM DATA Certain aspects of a vessel’s form are determined by its intended function. Thus, if you were making a storage jar you would have to think about the capacity, the stability of the vessel, its strength when full, means of sealing the contents and perhaps means of moving the full vessel. You would arrive at a completely different set of criteria if you were making a drinking vessel or one for use in cooking. It is therefore reasonable to divide an assemblage into basic functional classes, which might then lead to knowledge of the activities carried out on the site. Of course, not every vessel was used entirely for its originally-intended purpose, and there were and are many types of vessel which were reused having fulfilled their original purpose. Amphorae and oil jars are good examples. Roman amphorae were used as ovens, as containers for all sorts of goods and even for burials. Italian oil jars of eighteenth and nineteenth-century date were widely used in Jamaica as water containers. Thus, there are dangers in assuming that the presence of vessels of a particular functional class on a site implies that a certain activity took place there.

Pottery in Archaeology: History of Pottery Studies

Introduction Pottery tends to arouse strong emotions in archaeologists: they either love it or hate it. For some it has an indefinable fascination, and is potentially full of information, which has to be teased out by careful and painstaking study. At the other end of the scale, it is seen as the most common of archaeological materials, whose main functions are to slow down the real business of digging, fill up stores, and behave as an archaeological black hole for post-excavation resources. Between these extremes there is a whole spectrum of opinion: some, for example, see pottery as an unavoidable chore, a material to be processed as quickly as possible before being reburied (either in the ground or in a store), rather like low-level nuclear waste. A sign on a laboratory door that read ‘Danger: pottery processing’ satirised this view. Others take a more mystical view, believing the humblest sherd to be full of the most amazing information – ‘Show them a piece of worn pottery and its the rim of a centurions favourite cup’ (read in a local newspaper) – which only the pottery specialist, as some sort of guru, can unlock. There is an element of truth and an element of caricature in each of these descriptions. While it will be clear where our feelings lie, our aim in this book is to take a balanced view of the potential contribution of pottery studies to archaeology, neither too optimistic nor too pessimistic. To do this, we first need to look at the history of our subject, on the grounds, familiar to archaeologists, that to understand the present we first need to study the past. It is natural for archaeologists to attempt to divide their material into chronological phases; the history of archaeology in general, and of ceramic studies in particular, is no exception. Shepard (1956, 3) saw three phases, but she did not try to put dates to them: the study of whole vessels as culture-objects, the study of sherds as dating evidence for stratigraphic sequences and the study of pottery technology as a way of relating more closely to the potter. Matson (1984, 30) applied two of Willey and Sabloffs (1974) phases – the Classificatory-Historical Period (1914–60) and the Explanatory Period (1960 onwards) – to American ceramic studies. Van der Leeuw (1984, 710–18) saw three phases: the typological (up to 1965); the ‘three levels of research’ (1965–80), continuing the previous tradition, with a ‘micro’ level below it and a ‘macro’ level above it; and the ‘study of the cultural element’ (1980 onwards).

Pottery in Archaeology: Craft Specialisation and Standardisation of Production

Introduction In discussing craft specialisation, we are looking for evidence for the organisation of the production of pottery in a social context and for ways in which this may have changed over time. A model or typology for the organisation of production is provided by van der Leeuw (1977), in the form of five stages (or ‘modes of production’) of increasing scale and intensity: household production, individual industry, household industry, village industry and large-scale industry. This is modified by Peacock (1982) for the study of Roman pottery, by the addition of a second dimension, representing the degree of official or elite participation, in the form of military/official production and estate production. Costin (1991, 8−9), followed by Costin and Hagstrum (1995, 620), develop this second dimension further by the idea of ‘attached’ and ‘independent’ types of specialists, each of which could operate at a range of scales. She also uses the concept of the degree of specialisation (the ratio of producers to consumers), and four aspects which can be used to characterise production – context, concentration, scale or constitution and intensity. These are important in breaking the link between scale and intensity of production, a model which has been criticised by others (e.g. Feinman 1999, who challenged the original model as too ‘monolithic’ by giving examples of high-intensity craft production at a domestic scale [96]).

Pottery in Archaeology: Assemblages and Sites

In this chapter we will examine some issues concerning the formation of archaeological deposits and the ceramic assemblages they contain. First, we will consider one of the more important of the factors governing the relationship between the ceramics in use and those recovered from archaeological contexts – the use-life or life expectancy of the material. The value of sherd-link data is next discussed, followed by considerations of pottery collected from field walking and the role of quantification in the examination of site-formation problems. Pottery Life Expectancy There is a small but valuable body of ‘ceramic census data’ collected by ethnographers and others detailing the types of pottery in use in individual households, which archaeologists have drawn upon in several ways as an aid in their interpretation of archaeological assemblages (Kramer 1985), although Tani and Longacre (1999) argue that the inventory method overstates mean use-life. The most useful of these studies provide lists or inventories detailing not only the types and numbers of vessels in use in particular villages, compounds or houses but also records of their age; from the latter may be derived estimates for the life expectancies of vessels of various forms or functions. An early study by Foster (1960) of life expectancy of pottery in Tzintzuntzan (Mexico) identifies five basic factors influencing breakage rates: (i) the basic strength of the vessel; (ii) the vessel function – its use as a cooking vessel, water jar, storage jar and so on; (iii) the method of use, such as the type of stove; (iv) the context of use – the care taken by the user, the activities of children, animals and so on; (v) the cost of the vessel.

Pottery in Archaeology: The Potential of Pottery as Archaeological Evidence

Aims The aims of this chapter are to look at the archaeological uses made of pottery in the various phases of study described in Chapter 1, to see which have stood the test of time, to point the reader forward to chapters that will deal with such themes in more detail (Part III) and to provide a general rationale for the practical approaches described in Part II. Clearly, not all assemblages, or even all sites, will yield evidence of all the types to be described below. Discernment is needed to know what sort of questions can reasonably be asked of a particular group of pottery – this is best (perhaps only) learnt by experience, but we hope that the theoretical discussions of Part III will help the reader to avoid the twin pitfalls of under- and over-interpretation. It is nevertheless true that when excavating and recording pottery we do not know all the questions that are likely to be asked of it, and that therefore some ideas of ‘good standard practice’ in recording and summarising pottery assemblages are very useful, although they may be augmented by special information to meet special needs. We hope to provide such practices in Part II, without giving the reader the claustrophobic feeling of a rigid system fixed for all times and all places. We should make it clear before starting that just because an idea belongs to an earlier phase of study, or paradigm, that does not mean it is of no use to todays worker.

Spatial Analysis in Archaeology.

Preface 1. Introduction 2. Archaeological distribution maps: a quantified approach and associated problems 3. Point pattern analysis 4. Some models for settlement patterns 5. The distribution of single artefact types 6. The association between distributions 7. The relationship between sites and other features 8. Conclusion Appendix Index.