I was overjoyed to create this scroll on the occasion of Mestra Esperanza Susanna Flecha’s elevation to the Order of the Mark. Design and scroll by me, based on a compilation of a few late-16th century Italian engravings. Text by Ollam Lanea inghean Uí Chiaragáin, in the style of Torquato Tasso’s Amyntas. Fuller writeup still to come.

Let her arrows never fail her quiver, nor wild deer depart the woods, for Esperanza Susanna Flecha fears no want of sport, nor of prowess. Thus we name her a companion of the Order of the Mark. Done this 13th of September, AS LX at Stierbach’s Birthday by Abran King and Anya Queen, most gracious monarchs of fair Atlantia’s shores and lands.

I had so much fun creating Mistress Anubh de Mona’s Laurel scroll. Design, metal- and woodworking by me, based on extant Iron Age Celtic cauldron fragments and La Tène metalwork as well as extant ogham-bearing artifacts. Words by Etaíne na Preachain. Fuller writeup still to come.

A triskele blue upon a silver egg in field of azure
Signs Anauved of Mona. Like Cerridwen, she tends cauldrons,
brings new life to ancient knowledge: past-age feasts reborn.
Bark seethes, to bend and mark with linden stitch.
From wort well-stirred with spoon made quick by forest gifts,
She brews to welcome guests and gladden hearts.
Near Lughnasadh, this 6th of August, A.S. LX,
Atlantia’s monarchs Abran and Anya, on her bright head bestow
the Order of the Laurel.

I was honored to be asked to provide a scroll on the occasion of Master Lewin de Partone’s elevation to the Order of the Mark. Design, leatherwork, painting, and wordsmithing all done by me, guided by the Gotland Picture Stone GFB1061 at the Gotland Museum, with text informed by that found on Norse runestones. A fuller writeup is still to come.

Abran and Anya had these runes carved for
Lewin de Partone,
bow-master and battlesteward,
to praise his aim and might.

They elevate his mastery with a Mark,
and raise his personal standard
where on sky lies a silver stag,
and on green lies a silver bear,
their toothy horizon silver-rent,
all looking left.

Done this
6th day of the 8th month,
AS LX
where Penn’s woods call our armies home.

I was absolutely overjoyed to create this scroll for Master Seamus McRay, one of the Premiere members of the Order of the Mark. Wordsmithery by Lanea Inghean Uí Chiaragáin, scroll created by me. Design based on The Book of Mulling and the MacDurnan Gospels, both Irish Insular manuscripts of the second half of the 8th century into the 9th. Much fuller writeup on its way.

Quiver bristling with keen-tipped shafts,
Linden well shaped, swan fletched to fly true,
Vane laced by sinew’s trace, string taut,
Neatly nocked and drawn to anchor’s place,
Eye bright finds the sight before the arrow is loosed,
Then flies, and soundly strikes home
In target, or prey, or ill-fated foe
Who heard naught but the whispering string’s fell song.

Let all good gentles know that a master
Marksman stalks Atlantia’s forests
Filling the kingdom’s larders with goodly game
And guarding our shores and borders from all threats.
Thus do Abran King and Anya Queen,
Just and worthy sovereigns of Atlantia’s lands
Proudly name Seamus McRay
A master of range, and hunt, and battlefield,
A Premiere most worthy to join the Order of the Mark.

I was honored to create the scroll for Count Rǫndólfr ormstunga lǫgmaðr, when he stepped down from his first reign as King. Designed and painted by me, based on stones found in Sweden’s Köpingsvik’s church and what we know of Norse runestone coloration. Words by Ollam Lanea inghean Uí Chiaragáin. Fuller writeup to come.

Under the jutting seat of the sun,
where the waves crash on our shore,
This defender of Atlantia served as both
A ring giving reconciler of the folksvaldi
And Osprey feeding helm-shaker.
Let him rest now, and another lift this burden
From the Hawk’s seat.

Jarl Rǫndólfr strides the shoreline, 
Eyes blazing, tensed for battle,
Shore beast’s bane – Kraken’s kin

Sepia-stained raiment
Drapes the battered shoulders, 
Sun bleached woolen girdle
Binding his cloak of Skogul–
Encircling him–the heroe’s mark. 
Pelting rain drenches all 
the wave-hewing raven feeders
Vying for Atlantia’s throne

Name him Jarl Rǫndólfr Ormstunga Lǫgmaðr
Done by Abran King and Anya Queen at their coronation
This fifth day of April, AS LIX.

I was delighted to create the scroll for Owain Weale’s Pelican elevation. Design, calligraphy, and illumination based on an 11th century Welsh manuscript called the Rhygyfarch (Ricemarch) Psalter, and text based on a 12th century Welsh poem by Owain Cyfeiliog called “Hirlas Owain”, all done by me. Full writeup to come.

Let the cup-bearer fill the horn full joyously,
by the great bright fire’s light and torches gleam,
and bring a brimming draft of mead to the hand of Owain Weale,
for the depth of their service.

Pour out the sweet strained drink,
whose brew is foaming like to Atlantia’s sea,
& toast this orb weaver
who knits Our land with fibers of connection.

Bring this spinner of webs the horn of honor,
and give to them in this shining court of Randall of the golden spear & Iul’iana of the silver sword
a white-plumed bird,
great in its generosity & wise in its countenance.
Let their arms,
per chevron purpure & sable, a chevron argent & in base a wheel Or,
be Pelican-lofted,
so none shall e’er match them.

Pronounced this 1st day of March, AS LIX.
where Kingdom Arts & Sciences flow.

I was delighted to create a scroll for Master Geoffrey d’Ayr of Montalban’s (Bish’s) Golden Dolphin award. Calligraphy, illumination, and 16th century verse by me. More complete writeup to come.

Beyond the salted shore,
Throughout this seafoam land,
Where pilgrims sail on masse
The gate to pass
And coffers pour
Their contents on the sand,

As steady as the tide,
A bishop’s effort flows.
Sets right a listing field,
So even keeled,
A helpful guide,
He serves, uplifts, and knows.

So now in gleaming word,
Abran and Anya here
Bestow a golden fin,
A pod of kin,
On may the third
When sixty makes our year.

giddy up

Leonardo da Vinci. This man sketched…a lot of horses.

Horses standing.

Horses rearing.

Horses jumping.

Horse heads, horse legs, horse butts.

In the 2004 art book, “Leonardo da Vinci: Sketches and Drawings” there is an entire chapter dedicated to the subject, with 26 images of horses included¹. The 2019 Royal Collection Trust exhibition “Leonardo da Vinci: A Life in Drawing” featured 22². In his chapter within the former, Johannes Nathan writes about the importance of horses in the Renaissance, including (or especially) due to their use in warfare. Leonardo was fascinated by exploring warfare, expecially its emotion³. The rendered battle between horsemen in the background of the Adoration of the Magi demonstrates his enthusiasm.

But this fascination is only part of the picture.

THE BACKGROUND

disegno

Let’s set the scene.

In 15th–16th century Italy there was an emphasis in draftsmanship, an approach which held that good drawing was the root—not only of all quality artistic endeavor, but of measuring the world⁴. In part, this emphasis existed due to the growth of Renaissance humanism, which looked to the ancient world for examples of how to live and how to reconcile religion with the changing world, and in so doing reorient humanity within the cosmos⁵. Humanism was a perspective through which artists would explore nature through their art, and draftsmanship (disegno in Italian) was the first step. (I have a lot more to say about Humanism in my post about Kolfinna’s scroll⁶.)

In his “Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects”, noted artist, groupie, and early modern hype man Georgio Vasari writes “This disegno, when it brings forth a creative idea from our critical faculty, requires a hand ready and able, thanks to years of study and practice, to draw and to express well whatever thing Nature has created, with a pen, a stylus, a charcoal stick, a pencil. . . .⁷” In this atmosphere, Leonardo would have been well trained in disegno.

Studying the form with measurements and scientific principles was part of his and many others’ practices. The horse at right, drawn by Leonardo’s master Andrea del Verrocchio, possibly as preparation for a bronze equestrian statue, is a perfect example. (Compare it with a similar drawing of a horse in profile by Leonardo, below.)

When I started this project, I didn’t have the right context. Based on his modern reputation, I “knew” that Leonardo was as an artistic genius who combined art and science. I “knew” his legacy lie in observation, measurement, and technical expertise, and I “knew” that he drew to invent and discover his world. And due to the concept of disegno, I knew he would have made these explorations through drawing.

So when I first began researching this scroll, I assumed that the preponderance of horses was merely due to his study of the animals for anatomical purposes—for an exploration of truth, in the High Renaissance humanist vein. Exploration without intention. After all, this is a man who dissected cadavers to learn anatomy. I had bought hook, line, and sinker into the story of Leonardo-as-genius that has come down to us from Vasari through successive generations, all of whom put their own spin on his biography for their own reasons.

In the process of researching, however, I learned that this story is misleading.

In 1482 Leonardo was commissioned to create a monument in honor of the late Duke Francesco Sforza. It was intended to be greater than life size, and the technical logistics of potentially casting such a large figure in one piece with the lost wax method entranced Leonardo so much that the commission dragged on and on. He had gone so far as to make a twenty-four foot tall terracotta model, but…

The work was never finished⁸.

In 1505 Leonardo began “The Battle of Anghiari”, a huge wall painting (54 x 21 ft) in the Sala dei Cinquecento, used by the Medicis as a reception room. (His rival Michelangelo was supposed to paint the opposite wall, but since Leonardo’s side had better light, he didn’t want to be shown at a disadvantage.) According to his diary the weather turned when he was just beginning, ruining the cartoon (the full-size paper template used by wall- and fresco-painters to transfer their designs) and the conditions, so…

The work was never finished⁹.

In 1506 Leonardo returned to Milan to begin work on a commission by Sforza’s greatest rival, Gian Giacomo Trivulzio, for an equestrian funerary monument, a commission secured largely on the back of renown from the unfinished Sforza monument listed above. This new monument was based on the initial drawings for the Sforza horse, but also included tomb decoration. We’re aware of the commission only through financial documents and sketches, because—whether through political machinations or personal issues, and…

The work was never finished¹⁰.

Even the treatise On Painting was a work in progress when his mortal clock ran out¹¹. Fundamentally, in spite of touting himself as a sculptor when he sold his services to elite patrons, we have zero uncontested proof of finished sculptures¹².

This knowledge granted me two gifts.

gift one: i’m not leonardo

First, I learned that my initial apprehension at using an exemplar by Leonardo was, perhaps, misplaced. Rather that having to beneficently grant myself grace for not emulating his results perfectly due to our vastly different training and situations—the “oh, but he’s Leonardo da Vinci, how could I ever match him” mindset—I developed a clearer picture of as Leonardo as a flawed and relatable human, and this allowed space for both of us to embody our own creative styles with equal validity.

For instance, as discussed above I learned that our friend Leonardo had a real lack of follow-through. The reasons for this are debated. Perhaps he preferred to research and prep and plan, in the Italian Renaissance distinction of “concetto” vs “mano”¹³ (which, as I settle into middle-age, I find relateable). Perhaps it was a result of stifling perfectionism (with his history as a recognized young talent, I wouldn’t be surprised #giftedkid). Or perhaps—as at least one art historian has suggested—he had ADHD¹⁴.

Whatever the reason, we are left with a lot of sketches of horses, a lost treatise on their anatomy, and no finished sculptures. The hype created by Vasari has developed into a fiction of perfection, of untouchability. But knowledge punctures this lionized myth.

gift two: context

And secondly, research uncovered the context of many of these horse sketches.

They weren’t created purely for artistic discovery, theoretical as some physics. I already mentioned briefly that Leonardo was fascinated by emotion and warfare and this translation through horses. But the context is pragmatic: they were made as preparatory drawings for further artwork like murals, paintings, and sculptures. They were created in pursuit of something more tangible.

(And they would have been. If he’d have finished them.)

And this makes a lot of sense to me, a 20th–21st century artist. After all, doing ample prep drawings was something I was taught in school, too. Counter to the popular notion of Leonardo exercising his artistic genius just for the sake of itself, he was doing it precisely for the same reason I would do it. Alongside the revelation that Leonardo was just as prone to dropping a project as any number of neurodivergent artists venting about executive dysfunction on TikTok, was the reminder that his training emphasized being prepared as well.

With these two new humanizing nuggets of knowledge buoying me, I could lean further into creation without feeling beholden to Leonardo’s legacy.

THE FIGURES

Human though we both might be, there are definitely some difference between us.

Leonardo da Vinci was surrounded by horses from birth.

I was not.

Leonardo da Vinci was working in the workshop of a master artist by the age of 14.

I was not.

Leonardo da Vinci was a master in a guild of artists and doctors by the age of 20.

I was not.

What I do have is 40-some-odd years’ of experience with dry media, and a pretty engrained sense of my own style. So I tried to respect Leonardo’s while being true to my own. Leonardo’s objective was an expression of equine form in preparation for a sculpture. Mine was an award. I’m not here to make copies; I’m here to make art in celebration of my friend.

neigh? yay!

At right is the primary sketch on which I based my scroll.

According to the museum record¹⁵, this horse was done as a preparatory drawing for Leo’s forthcoming mural of The Battle of Anghiari in the Great Council Chamber of the Palazzo della Signoria in Florence. As I listed above, whether due to melodramatic weather or his own proclivities he never finished it, and about 60 years later Georgio Vasari himself was commissioned to complete the painting¹⁶. Still, Leonardo’s prep work remains for us to explore.

Its rendering style is not quite the Mannerist art of a century later, a technique developed by followers of Michelangelo which exaggerated musculature toward unreality. (One artist said another’s Hercules looked like “a sack full of melons”¹⁷, which I find particularly entertaining; I’ve always described Michelangelo’s “anatomy” as a sack full of bowling balls. (Cellini? I’m with you on this.)) But Leonardo’s horse is definitely a progenitor of that style, with the rippling definition of its thighs and knobbliness of its joints. I did my best to communicate the same anatomy, but at some point the texture and color of the chalk and my deep dislike of trapped bowling balls got the best of me, and I declined to attempt a 1:1 replication in lieu of something more true to myself and the scroll I was creating.

so sketchy

Leonardo could not have drawn this figure, as it stands, from life¹⁸. Far from a static pose, the twist indicates motion and emotion, and could only have been assembled from separate elements. The rear legs are planted, but Leonardo is trialling various front legs to create the desired effect. He frequently worked this way; we have early examples of primary sketches in silverpoint made more solid with pen and ink, and later sketches of chalk followed by ink. Delicate alternates of position laid out in less-definitive media and finalized with permanence.

Then as now, these quick sketches were common. Called “primo pensiero” (first thought) or “scizzo” (quick) sketches¹⁹, in my experience they can function anywhere from a visual brainstorm, to a visual experiment, to a demonstration of a plan. Subsequent sketches can help build up toward increasingly final renders, as we see in situations where Leonardo switches medium from charcoal to ink.

His drawings for the Svorza monument, the greater-than-life-size bronze horse statue described above which he designed but never finished, likewise show an iterative style which relies upon small changes as well as large²⁰. Based on the similarity of the multi-legged sketches, it seems reasonable to deduce that his aim was to assemble a figure which met all of his needs. While these needs are naturally going to be different than those of a massive, single lost wax sculpture, still Leonardo was cognizant of the shape of the figure in space, as well as that space within the picture frame.

alert the media

Our pal Leo had access to a specific color of red chalk which I do not²¹. I’d wanted a chalk that matched the precise color he’d used (not pastels, since the museum record specified chalk—which is far more prevalent than pastels, especially at this early date²²—and I wanted to respect that) and which offered the contrast and clarity he developed. And when I couldn’t source one, instead I blended together a few different colors of chalk, aiming at a similar result.

But I could elevate the chalk rendering with a second layer—a common technique at this place and time.

There is a pair of drawings of his, a rendering dated to c.1510–12 and another on the reverse of that same folio dated to c.1517–18, which appear to be a preliminary plan for two separate equestrian monuments—neither of which he completed²³. Both drawings consist of a chalk base underneath a very loose sketch of a horse in ink. I really like how the first one in particular combines the definition of mass communicated by the chalk, with the energy and outline described by the ink.

My result is a layer of red-brown chalk beneath a dark brown ink sketch, a ghostly lancer mounted on an emerging animal, aimed toward a flash of gold.

sharp composition

A horse is a horse (of course of course), but this award required representation of what it is: a golden lance.

The sketchy indication of a rider from my exemplar could easily be armed. So I just needed an appropriate weapon. What I decided on is no invention; it’s a loose depiction of a 15th century lance currently held at The Met, indicated by light lines of ink and highlighted in gold. I think it does precisely what it needs to, without being overly rendered.

As a bonus, the diagonal line enhances the composition, drawing the eye down toward the signatures with a dramatic and definite slash, as if to say: it is done.

THE WORDS

could be verse

I’ve gotta be honest: I’m not a poet. My poetry experience is limited to an unusual amount of recreational sonnet-making and not much else. (Ask me sometime about all the ones I wrote as metatextual webcomic response back in the day, all of which have—for better or worse—been lost to time.)

But Epy isn’t only an equestrian, they’re also a musician. In fact, they play early music, and they’ve even arranged and recorded a multitrack/multi-instrumental song to perform with on their horse. So rather than write a simple scroll text, I wanted to write one and set their word fame to verse.

I chose a rispetto.

A rispetto is verse form from 15th century Tuscany consisting of two quatrains, with the rhyme scheme abab / ccdd²⁴. Descriptions of its meter vary; some sources say tetrameter, some say pentameter, and some say hendecasyllabic. As far as I can tell, this discrepancy appears to be related to language and time period, and can be somewhat unpicked by its development.

Originally, the Tuscan rispetto was poetry of the people, a verse form based upon the octave, whose cousin became the sonnet²⁵. Both of these are pentametric in English and hendecasyllabic in Italian²⁶. This descrepancy is logical; different meters lend themselves more easily to different languages due to their natural rhythms. With my limited Italian, I can easily see why the odd-numbered syllable at the end of a line might suit. And iambs apply easily to the rhythms of spoken English, which makes iambic pentameter a natural choice for its sonnets and octaves.

That being said, the earliest rispetto in English that I could find is George Gascoigne’s (1535-77) six stanza poem “The Lullabye of a Lover”, which uses tetrameter²⁷.

Sing lullaby, as women do,
Wherewith they bring their babes to rest,
And lullaby can I sing too
As womanly as can the best.
With lullaby they still the child,
And if I be not much beguiled,
Full many wanton babes have I
Which must be stilled with lullaby.

His verse that sounded to my ears less polished than an iambic pentametrical sonnet. Less studied, and more natural. More like the extemporaneous poems that the originals were said to be. (The original octaves could be performed by dueling poets, like early modern rap battles²⁸.) So when I wrote Epy’s poem, I chose a quadrameter. I think it’s fitting that when the verse was read in court, it sounded playful, skipping and light, sing-song like a child’s poem.

It didn’t sound like deep literature. It sounded like joy.

In terms of content, I found various sources which discussed the different forms of love which the rispetto might evoke, and different moods and environments the rispetti might describe. (Sometimes literal environments; nineteenth-century poet Augusta Webster wrote, among others, rispetti using imagery of rivers, the four seasons, and fisher folk on a beach.²⁹) But most inspiring to me in this situation was Theodore Watts Dunton’s 1881 sonnet—again, evolutionarily very similar to the rispetto—in which he “which presented the idea of the sonnet as being made up of two parts which are linked together like the flow and ebb of a wave. According to this model, the octave of the sonnet presents a thought and the sestet goes on to make a comment upon some aspect of this thought³⁰.

I liked this idea instinctively, because it allowed the form of the poem to be reflected in the meaning. As such, I constructed my verse in two parts. The first,

In Epy rides, and with a song
this Armiger, their effort rare,
Pengelly named, with skill so strong,
a Golden Lance we bid them bear.

sets up this theoretical moment. Epy approaches the scene or the court, riding in appropriately armed, laden with name and honoriffic. Then follows the second half, the ebbing of the wave:

So Ragnar King he sets our scene,
with Mary Isabel our Queen,
in Fifty Eight to great acclaim
here March the two and sing their name.

As the wave ebbs, it drops upon the sand the story of the king setting the scene, partnered by his queen. The requisite date of the scroll text is snuck in with doubled meaning, as “March the two” serves both as a verb-and-noun phrase as well as a date: the second of March, AS 58.

I have aeons of experience with pentameter, but one foot less in meter somehow equates to more than a foot of meaning. The constraints required me to be a bit acrobatic with the language, which was both fun to craft and elicted a more playful result, which rather matches the bouncing feel of the rhythm. I wouldn’t be surprised if I added rispettos to my repertoire in future. They’re quite fun to write.

script

The script is based on Leonardo’s famous “mirror writing”.

Ordinarily I select characters from exemplars myself to assemble a script (often using a visual research application called Tropy³¹), but Kolfinna offered her previously-extracted ductus compilation
so I didn’t have to reinvent the wheel³². One upside to using a famous artist as an exemplar is that using someone’s ductus can save me a lot of time.

The big downside is that it meant I failed completely to take into consideration the proportions of Leonardo’s handwriting, the x-heights and ascenders and descenders and typical interlinear spacing. It changes the final look, but as I’ve previously mentioned: this is an homage, not a copy. And as I’ve also previously mentioned: I’m not a forger. Fundamentally this is my hand’s version of Leo’s hand.

For whatever reason, I find reading and writing backward quite easy, so I had fun with that part, too.

THE RESULT

why art history?

I entered into this project with the same overawed impression of Leonardo Da Vinci as lives in the popular consciousness. But it turned out there was a palpable gulf between what I thought I knew about Leonardo, and what researchers currently think. And doubtless if I continue to research him for this or other projects (which seems likely), I will learn even more and gain more context.

I’m neither Leonardo, nor a 19th century student on the Grand Tour. I’m a modern person with a specific goal. In attempting to copy one of his sketches 1:1, I would have done both myself and that goal a disservice. If i’ve learned anything over my decades of making art, it’s that each piece has its own objective, and no matter the goal of my reference, it’s best to keep the context of my own work in mind.

This proves the worth of researching the context of the art we emulate. If I hadn’t delved in, I would have tried to sublimate my style, diminishing myself. I would have simply tried to replicate a Leonardo horse sketch without asking why there were so many to choose from. And if I hadn’t asked why there were so many, I wouldn’t have learned about his intention to create his mural and his full-size sculpture. If I’d simply copied, I wouldn’t have this new picture of who Leonardo actually was as an artist, cleared slightly of the mythos created by Vasari, history, and Leonardo himself. I wouldn’t have learned about his lack of followthrough, or asked hard questions about reputation, self-advertisement, legacy, and “genius”.

And I wouldn’t have felt such relatability for someone with a cartoon turtle named after him.

above all

It was a particular pleasure to be asked to create this scroll for Epy, to honor my friend with artwork and words. I’ve known them for a number of years; we live in the same camp at Pennsic, and even before they moved in, we lived in the same neighborhood. So I’ve had ample opportunity to witness just how damn hard they work. The award—one of very few Golden Lances granted in Atlantia—was long in coming and is well-deserved.

NOTES

1. Frank Zöllner, ed., Leonardo Da Vinci, 1452-1519: Sketches and Drawings (Taschen, 2000) 26–39. ︎
2. “Leonardo da Vinci: A Life in Drawing,” Royal Collection Trust, 2019, https://www.rct.uk/collection/exhibitions/leonardo-da-vinci-a-life-in-drawing. ︎
3. Johannes Nathan, “Studies for equestrian monuments and horses”, in Leonardo da Vinci: Sketches and Drawings, ed. Frank Zöllner (Taschen, 2004), 26. ︎
4. Noah Charney and Ingrid Rowland, The Collector of Lives (WW Norton, 2018), 42, Apple Books. ︎
5. Sharon Bailin, “Invenzione e Fantasia: The (Re)Birth of Imagination in Renaissance Art” Interchange 36, no. 3 (September 2005): 261. ︎
6. “Kolfinna’s Laurel”, posted February 19, 2023, https://mydwynterstudios.com/kolfinnas-laurel. ︎
7. Translated in Charney and Rowland, Collector, 46. ︎
8. Charney and Rowland, Collector, 197. ︎
9. Charney and Rowland, Collector, 5–6. ︎
10. Emily Hanson, “Inventing the Sculptor: Leonardo Da Vinci and the Persistence of Myth” (MA thesis, Washington University in St Louis, 2012), 50–51, https://openscholarship.wustl.edu/etd/765. ︎
11. Robert Wallace, The World of Leonardo, 1452-1519 (Time-Life Books, 1975), 57, http://archive.org/details/worldofleonardo100wall. ︎
12. Hanson, “Inventing”, 1. The “Budapest Horse” is possibly his, though its attribution is still being debated. See Zoltán Kárpáti, Leonardo Da Vinci and the Budapest Horse and Rider. (Museum of Fine Arts Budapest, 2018), https://www.academia.edu/37830649/Leonardo_da_Vinci_and_the_Budapest_Horse_and_Rider. ︎
13. Hanson, “Inventing”, 47. ︎
14. Charney and Rowland, Collector, 192. ︎
15. “A Rearing Horse”, Royal Collection Trust, https://www.rct.uk/collection/search#/31/collection/912336/a-rearing-horse. ︎
16. Charney and Rowland, Collector, 9. ︎
17. Charney and Rowland, Collector, 3–4. ︎
18. Nathan, “Studies”, 26. ︎
19. “Preparatory drawing during the Italian renaissance, an introduction”, Khan Academy, https://www.khanacademy.org/humanities/renaissance-reformation/high-ren-florence-rome/beginners-guide-high-ren/a/preparatory-drawing-during-the-italian-renaissance-an-introduction. ︎
20. Hanson, “Inventing”, 35, as well as many visible examples. ︎
21. “Chalk”, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, https://www.metmuseum.org/about-the-met/collection-areas/drawings-and-prints/materials-and-techniques/drawing/chalk. ︎
22. “The Eighteenth-Century Pastel Portrait”, The Metropolitan Museum of Art, September 2010, https://www.metmuseum.org/toah/hd/papo/hd_papo.htm. ︎
23. “”Recto: A study for the Trivulzio monument. Verso: A study for an equestrian monument”, Royal Collection Trust, 2019, https://www.rct.uk/collection/search#/41/collection/912356/recto-a-study-for-the-trivulzio-monument-verso-a-study-for-an-equestrian-monument. ︎
24. P. Caruana Dingli, “Rispetti and sonnets: the Anglo-Italian context of Augusta Webster’s later poetry (1881-1893).” Journal of Anglo-Italian Studies 5 (1997): 127–128. ︎
25. Dingli, “Rispetti and sonnets”, 127–129. ︎
26. For the octave form, see Giovanni Kezich, “Extemporaneous Oral Poetry in Central Italy.” Folklore 93, no. 2 (1982): 194; for discussion of Chaucer’s first translation of a Romance language form to iambic pentameter in the late 1370s, see Martin J. Duffell, “‘The Craft So Long to Lerne’: Chaucer’s Invention of Iambic Pentameter.” The Chaucer Review 34, no. 3 (2000): 271. ︎
27. “The Lullaby of a Lover”, Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/56369/the-lullaby-of-a-lover. ︎
28. Kezich, “Extemporaneous Oral Poetry”, 195. ︎
29. Dingli, “Rispetti and sonnets”,131–133. ︎
30. Dingli, “Rispetti and sonnets”,134. ︎
31. “Tropy”, https://tropy.org. ︎
32. “Ffernfael of Carleon: Master of Defense Scroll”, Meisterin Kolfinna Valravn, June 3 2023, https://sites.google.com/view/kvalravn/scribe/2023/04-mod-ffernfael-of-carleon. ︎

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bailin, Sharon. “Invenzione e Fantasia: The (Re)Birth of Imagination in Renaissance Art.” Interchange 36, no. 3 (September 2005): 257–73. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10780-005-6865-3.

Caruana Dingli, P. “Rispetti and sonnets: the Anglo-Italian context of Augusta Webster’s later poetry (1881-1893).” _Journal of Anglo-Italian Studies 5_ (1997): 125-142. https://www.um.edu.mt/library/oar/handle/123456789/82677.

Charney, Noah, and Ingrid Rowland. The Collector of Lives. New York, NY: WW Norton, 2018. https://books.apple.com/us/book/the-collector-of-lives-giorgio-vasari/id1215382287.

Duffell, Martin J. “‘The Craft So Long to Lerne’: Chaucer’s Invention of Iambic Pentameter.” The Chaucer Review 34, no. 3 (2000): 269–88.

Griswold, William, and Linda Wolk-Simon. Sixteenth-Century Italian Drawings in the New York Collections. Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1994.

Hanson, Emily, “Inventing the Sculptor: Leonardo da Vinci and the Persistence of Myth”. MA thesis, Washington University in St. Louis, 2012. https://openscholarship.wustl.edu/etd/765.

Kárpáti, Zoltán. Leonardo Da Vinci and the Budapest Horse and Rider. Museum of Fine Arts, Budapest, 2018. https://www.academia.edu/37830649/Leonardo_da_Vinci_and_the_Budapest_Horse_and_Rider.

Kezich, Giovanni. “Extemporaneous Oral Poetry in Central Italy.” Folklore 93, no. 2 (1982): 193–205.

Kemp, Martin. “From Mimesis to Fantasia: The Quattrocento Vocabulary of Creation, Inspiration and Genius in the Visual Arts.” Viator 8 (January 1977): 347–98. https://doi.org/10.1484/J.VIATOR.2.301573.

Maurino, Ferdinando D. “Italian Popular Poetry: Origin and Definition.” Journal of the Folklore Institute 7, no. 1 (1970): 36–46. https://doi.org/10.2307/3814230.

“The Project Gutenberg eBook of Lives of the Most Eminent Painters Sculptors & Architects, Volume IV. by Georgio Vasari.” https://www.gutenberg.org/files/28420/28420-h/28420-h.htm.

Tristano, Richard M. “‘In the Guise of History’: History and Poetry in Cinquecento Italy.” Viator 44, no. 3 (September 2013): 369–95. https://doi.org/10.1484/J.VIATOR.1.103489.

da Vinci, Leonardo, and Jean Paul Richter. The Notebooks of Leonardo Da Vinci. Courier Corporation, 1970.

Wallace, Robert. The World of Leonardo, 1452-1519. Time-Life Books, 1975.

Zöllner, Frank, ed. Leonardo Da Vinci, 1452-1519: Sketches and Drawings. Taschen, 2000.

Christoph King and Adelhait Queen had these runes carved to praise Skinna-Steinarr,
Þegn of strength and honor, warrior of the weapon-meeting.
Mark this day with a golden chain, and name him kappi.

Raise high his battle standard Or, a troll purpure on a chief embattled sable a sword Or.
So we say this 7th of September, AS LIX.

why art history?

This isn’t my first runestone rodeo. A few years ago I designed a piece¹ for Arnoddr’s Chiv scroll.
Nor is this my first transliteration piece. I’ve done a few, including Kolfinna’s Golden Dolphin³.
This was not my first time carving wood, or composing vocatives⁴.

But just because I had experience with these things didn’t mean it was going to be a retread.
The time frame of this scroll was different.
The language was different.
The materials were different.

And so, even though the subjects were familiar, I was going to have to do the reading.

One benefit of studying art history is being able to be specific. The more you know, the more context you have, and the more context you have, the better you can disambiguate between similar exemplars.

So. Let’s talk about exemplars.

stones

Like most collections, extant runestones can be sorted in myriad ways.

For at least a hundred years⁵, researchers have been sorting runestones, often to help shed light on the beginning of Christianity in the area by establishing their dates. During the twentieth century, they’d done this through careful, deep reading of linguistics and runes, but when these methods proved to be insufficient Anne-Sofie Gräslund published a method of characterization on stylistic grounds⁶.

The six categories, which overlap in time, and are pertinent throughout Sweden⁷, are:

Bird’s-eye-view (BEV)

Pr1

Pr2

Pr3

Pr4

Pr5

(BTW, if you’re looking for data on existing runestones, Runor is a great destination. There’s a wealth of searchable data on each scroll, including inscription texts. The site is in Swedish, but if you don’t know Swedish, Google Translate is your friend.)

It’s Gräslund’s method of sorting existing runestones into these six overlapping groups which tells us most about designing our own stone.

According to her system, the stylistic features of Pr1 include⁸:

• dense, compacted, slightly angular overall impression
• round eyes
• round ears on top of head, joined by other curls which make it look like a crown
• open mouth, with thick upper lip, sometimes crossed by a line that makes it look twisted⁹
• blunted lower lip
• often a rolled up tail
• no feet or extra snakes
• a curve to the overall ribbon which follows the line of the stone
• if two animals, they cross over. a single animal typically doesn’t
• presence of a union knot: generally
• presence of a cross: very frequent
• Good examples: U 32, U 160, U 201, U 276, U 324, U 430, U 611, U 785,
  U 964, U 1066.

Stylistically, these features as a whole occur so frequently together that when a broken piece of carving is found, researchers confidently assume the rest of the stone will follow the same format¹⁰. My overall design was taken directly from the stone designated U 328¹¹, chosen because its overall shape worked perfectly for my board and very little adjustment was necessary. But where change was required, I used the list above and the examples at below as a guide. Having the parameters as set by someone deeply knowledgeable about this subject area meant that I could be confident I knew what I was looking at, which then meant that I knew I was creating a runestone design that was consistent with its historical forerunners, head to tail.

head to tail

As you can see from the image of my original exemplar at right, its heads fit perfectly into the Pr1 classification with their round eyes, twisted upper and blunted lower lips, and their finger-like ears and crest. So even with the small adjustments I was making to the original designs, I wanted to make sure the result still fit within gamut.

An easy way to do that was to create an assemblage of heads from Pr1 runestones, and keep those within vision as I drew. If when I was done I cast my eyes over the assemblage and it seemed like mine would fit in, I knew the job was a good’n.

The tail was marginally easier. There seemed to be two main types with the Pr1 subset, a thumb-like C curve or a single roll, so I used one of each across the two ribbons.

buckle up

The original stone featured a large cross, as do many of this type. But since that was inappropriate for this context, I decided to take the opportunity to bring in a nod to knighthood by turning one of the ribbons into a white belt.

There were several examples of 10th–11th century buckles from Gotland (Sweden) at the British Museum. Each had a gentle outward bow at the sides, and two of three had a slight curve along the top, which provided a reliable type example. I kept the rendering abstract to fit the style; while these days we might be accustomed to art displaying realism and depth, it would be inappropriate to draw the tongue as if it rested on the outer edge, its tip eclipsing but not crossing. (It would have been something else entirely if I had chosen to treat the tongue like a snake and have it weave through other elements, but for various reasons, I decided not to do that.) The result is simple, with the appropriate visual legibility for a scroll.

And runestone legibility, evidence suggests, is helped with color.

pigment of your imagination

The runestones were originally painted¹².

A search in the Runor or Runedata¹³ rune text databases for the word “paint” comes up with a large handful of Viking Age references—and that’s only when searching that single, specific word. [link] Doubtless other textual evidence exists behind different language, such as that on Sö 206¹⁴: “Here shall these stones stand, reddened with runes”. Kitzler Åhfeldt describes how the runestones at Köpingsvik church, preserved by their reuse, still retain their original pigment¹⁵. Harrison and Svensson go one step further, telling us about their red lead, their chalk, their soot and their ochre¹⁶ and their imported cinnabar¹⁷, and more. The copy of the Jelling stone displayed at the 2013 Vikings! exhibit at the National Museum of Denmark was painted in bright colors, based on traces of pigment found in the originals¹⁸. And the repainted red, black, and white Urnes-style stone found at the Resmo church, currently located at the Swedish History Museum,¹⁹ is a striking example of the visual result when color contrast is prioritized.

All this is to say that I wasn’t going to leave the carvings blank.

The runestones are predominately the red, white, and black of red lead, chalk, and soot, as mentioned above. For the yellow, I was guided by the yellow on the Jelling Stone repaint above, which, lacking access to pigment analysis, is most likely yellow ochre, but based on its intensity could also be orpiment (arsenic sulfide). Orpiment was available and commonly used for pigment until the 19th century, so it’s plausible. But again, without a test I just can’t say. You can’t judge a pigment by its color, after all²⁰. And that’s likely even more true for runestones than it is for manuscripts.

A purple was necessary for SCA heraldic reasons, so I tried to make it as natural-pigment-y as possible by taking the saturation down. As long as it didn’t stick out too much, I was satisfied. (Just another one of those times when a historical truth has to yield to a SCAdian need.)

back to back

In fact, the heraldry side required creativity in a number of ways.

Our SCA heraldry is rooted in a very different time and style than the 10th-11th Scandinavia of this scroll. As such, it was necessary to find ways to check all the mandatory heraldic boxes, but do so within the correct world of the scroll. Sometimes when making this sort of translation it’s not hard at all to find a stylistic equivalent. And other times, it requires bending just a little bit, one way or the other.

Runestones are (usually) organically shaped. And so frequently, their carvings are too. In contrast, heraldry is designed to fit in a geometric space. So I compromised; I found a frame from an existing source, by tapping in largest of the Jellling stones.

The Jelling stones are superlative for several reasons. Among other things, the largest of the grouping features the oldest depiction of Jesus in Scandinavian art [Wood 2014 p21]. Around that stone is a frame, perfect for laying out the fields of our heraldry.

As suggested above, it may seem jarring to have decoration completely fill the side of a stone board edge to edge; on the preponderance of stones, the decorations only generally follow the shape of the stone’s face. But on the largest of the Jelling stones, it’s actually possible that difference a feature of the iconography program, not a bug. According to Egon Wamers (as reported by Rita Wood²¹, whose word I decided to trust since Wamers’ original paper²² is in German) the layout of this carving is a nod to the manuscripts from the Christian church of Ottonian Germany, the church responsible for the conversion of the Danes.

According to Wood²³, the frame could have been a direct reference to the popular religious diptychs of the time; it certainly seems as if the frame “hinges” on the corner. But due to the shape of the stone, the frame is three-cornered, whereas our heraldry needs four—both to fill the space, and also to create a legible heraldic device.

These sorts of translations are common for SCA scroll adaptations. Our needs are very different from those of the original, so it only makes sense that the forms would be different, as well. It would hardly make sense to cling slavishly to an exemplar but fail to fulfull the unique requirements of an SCA scroll…which is, or should be, our primary goal.

But this is just the framework. For its fill, I looked elsewhere.

down in trollberg

The frame wasn’t the only stylistic translation I needed to make. Both elements of heraldry, the sword and the troll, needed updates. (Or, to be more truthful, backdates.)

Rather than use a depiction of one of the monsters of Ancient and Medieval xenophobia, a Blemmye, I set out to find a good example of a Scandinavian troll. They exist throughout the literature, after all.

I chose a carving of Hyrrokkin from one of the picture stones, contemporary with our runestones.

Hyrrokkin is a female jötunn in Norse mythology. She was mentioned in several late-tenth-century poems²⁴, and included in a hypnotic chant of troll women by an anonymous 12th century skald²⁵:

Gjölp, Hyrrokkin | Hengikepta,
Gneip ok Gnepja | Geysa, Hála,
Hörn ok Hrúga | Harðgreip, Forað,
Hryðja, Hveðra | ok Hölgabrúðr.

Giantesses, or troll women, are more frequently and distinctly described than men in the fornaldarsögur (the literary sagas of the North)²⁶, yet in many stories men and women trolls were of similar—sometimes indistinguishable—monstrosity²⁷, both wearing shriveled skins for clothing²⁸ while threatening the heroes.

Hyrrokkin is depicted above riding a wolf with a snake in each hand. Her name is a compound word, a combination of hyr (fire) and hrokkinn (curly or wrinkled)²⁹. Together the linguistic and mythological features paint a picture of a dessicated creature, dried by fire to indistinguishability.

Given that I was adjusting the Medieval Western European troll iconography to better fit the earlier Scandinavian image of a troll, I feel like this is a successful translation. I don’t know what features of the troll inspired Stienarr to put one on his heraldry, but I hope this version fits the bill.

the point

The usual sword depicted in Medieval Heraldry doesn’t particularly stand out against 10th–11th Scandinavian style. (Actually, what really seems weirdest about it and the troll above is how they’re just floating in the middle of the field, not tied into the frame. That would have better suited runestone iconography, though it doesn’t fit the rules of Medieval Heraldry.) Regardless, I prefer elements to correspond to the correct place and time, so I’m willing to do the research.

My sword has the typical domed pommel and straight guard found on a lot of Viking swords of the mid- to late-10th century, as in this Petersen Type U sword³⁰ found in the river Lea³¹ and currently housed at the British Museum³².

words words words

I relish any chance to write scroll texts. Especially of the period before 1100CE.

The more you read through stone upon stone of text on Runor or Rundata[https://rundata.info/], the more a rhythm emerges:
the attribution,
the occasion,
the description.

Similarly, I had to convey my own who-what-when-why. But runestones aren’t generally…loquacious, so I had to be efficient. There were a few savory phrases I could borrow from the corpus to impart some flavor, such as “Þegn of strength”³³ and kennings like “weapon-meeting”³⁴ helped locate the poetry in a specific place and time. The word “kappi” is the equivalent of “knight” in the official list of SCA titles³⁵, and itself comes from Cleasby and Vigfússon’s 1958 Icelandic dictionary³⁶.

I’d hoped that when the herald read it out, all assembled could feel the echo of ages past. That’s part of the magic of the SCA.

transliteration game

Speaking of echoes of ages past, I was delighted to have a chance to once again³⁷ play³⁸ a happy³⁹ game of transliteration.

The language of 10th–11th century Sweden was Old Norse, the rune set of which was the Younger Futhark. Paradoxically, the 24-character Elder Futhark of Proto-Norse diminished to 16 letters with the evolution to Old Norse, just when its number of vowels was expanding. More sounds, fewer characters. Yet none of them have as many as English, and you know how messy English is. Some sounds don’t overlap going in either direction between Old Norse and modern English, which is where our game comes in.

Transliteration is notoriously tricky. But it’s a pleasing puzzle, especially if you have experience with languages and phonetics—I like to ground my sound-symbol associations in phonetics so there’s some logic. In languages where vowel associations are ambiguous, especially older languages where we aren’t 100% sure of the pronunciation, it makes sense to plan based on the target language’s sound production. Coincidentally, it’s a similar tactic as that on the site “Orðstírr”⁴⁰, whose specific thoughts on transliterating Old Norse into English I combined with Dr. Jackson Crawford’s pronunciation data and academic experience⁴¹ to create my map.

I divided vowel sounds based on their placement in the mouth. Runes weren’t doubled, so I didn’t, but diphthongs were occasionally used, so I used them when necessary. As for consonants, it was largely straightforward. I fudged “ch” to “ts”, reasoning that it would be audibly understandable in context. All “th” became Þ, whether voiced or not.

Generally the rule was simplification. I wasn’t trying to invent anything new; I was trying to efficiently use the 16 tools at my disposal.

(Yanno, efficiency. Because that’s how language and spelling always work. *cackles in Linguist*)

and so

Thank you to Mary Panesis of Tuatha for the generous donation of the live-edge reclaimed walnut board. It was beautiful to work with.

It’s always a joy to be given the opportunity to create a scroll that pushes the usual boundaries of Medieval Europe, and especially so when it can be created outside the traditional material set of SCA scrolls. Congratulations to Sir Skinna-Steinarr, and I hope when you see this on your wall, it reminds you of a wonderful day.

NOTES

1. “Arnoddr’s Chivalry Scroll,” Mydwynter Studios, https://mydwynterstudios.com/arundoors-chivalry-scroll/ ︎
2. (ignore this, wordpress is terrible) ︎
3. “Kolfinna’s Golden Dolphin,” Mydwynter Studios, https://mydwynterstudios.com/kolfinnas-golden-dolphin/ ︎
4. “Lanea’s Opal,” MydwynterStudios, https://mydwynterstudios.com/laneas-opal/ ︎
5. von Friesen 1909 ︎
6. Anne-Sofie Gräslund, “Dating the Swedish Viking-Age Rune Stones on Stylistic Grounds,” in Runes and Their Secrets: Studies in Runology, ed. M. Stoklund, M. Lerche Nielsen, B. Holmberg and G. Fellows-Jensen. (Museum Tusculanum Press, 2006), 117–139, https://www.academia.edu/6107509/Dating_the_Swedish_Viking_Age_rune_stones_on_stylistic_grounds ︎
7. Gräslund, _Dating,_ 130. ︎
8. Gräslund, _Dating,_ 120. ︎
9. ︎
10. Gräslund, _Dating,_ 124. ︎
11. “U 328,” Runor, http://kulturarvsdata.se/uu/srdb/4c816f31-d3ac-4020-89da-d3c2466e83e4. ︎
12. “Rune Stones,” National Museum of Denmark, https://en.natmus.dk/historical-knowledge/denmark/prehistoric-period-until-1050-ad/the-viking-age/power-and-aristocracy/rune-stones/ ︎
13. “Rundata,” https://rundata.info/. Web client for ​​​Scandinavian Runic-text Data Base. ︎
14. “Sö 206,” Runor, http://kulturarvsdata.se/uu/srdb/a89dd45c-403c-4740-b5cb-9f1a631ac347 ︎
15. Laila Kitzler Åhfeldt, “The Rune Stone Fragments at Köpingsvik,” in From Ephesos to Dale- carlia. Reflections on Body, Space and Time in MedievaI and Early Modern Europe, ed. E. Regner, C. von Heine, L. Kitzler Ähfeldt, and A. Kjellström. (The Museum of National Antiquities, Stockholm. Studies I1. Stockholm Studies in Archaeology 48, 2009) 83. ︎
16. “Runestone#Colour,” Wikimedia Foundation, last modified June 11, 2024, 17:41 (UTC), https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Runestone#Colour. ︎
17. Kristina Ekero Eriksson and Dick Harrison, Vikingaliv (Natur & Kultur, 2017) 209. One page of which (in Swedish) can be read at https://www.google.com/books/edition/Vikingaliv/Pto2DwAAQBAJ?hl=en&gbpv=1&pg=PA209&printsec=frontcover. The pertinent passage translates via Google to, “chemists have been able to analyze traces of color: in one case, traces of bright red cinnabar, an exclusive import pigment, were found, but otherwise lead and iron oxide red dominate.” ︎
18. “Jelling_stones#Modern_copies_of_the_runestone_of_Harald_Bluetooth,” Wikimedia Foundation, last modified May 18, 2024‎, 21:06 (UTC), https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jelling_stones#Modern_copies_of_the_runestone_of_Harald_Bluetooth. ︎
19. “Runestone,” Swedish History Museum. https://samlingar.shm.se/media/75FC0E39-DB58-4CAC-B4B4-9042784CA1C3. Also located on Runor with the signum Öl Fv1911;274B at http://kulturarvsdata.se/uu/srdb/e77158d7-b52b-43ec-a16e-aa083d768b30. ︎
20. Cheryl A. Porter, “You Can’t Tell a Pigment by Its Color,” in Making the Medieval Book. Techniques of Production, 1995, 111–16. ︎
21. Rita Wood, “The Pictures on the Greater Jelling Stone,” Danish Journal of Archaeology 3 (May 1, 2014): 19, https://doi.org/10.1080/21662282.2014.929882. ︎
22. Egon Wamers, … “… Ok Dani Gærði Kristna … Der Große Jellingstein Im Spiegel Ottonischer Kunst,” Frühmittelalterliche Studien 34, no. 1 (2000), 132. ︎
23. Wood, Pictures, 27–28. ︎
24. John Lindow, Norse Mythology : A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs ( Oxford University Press, 2001) 196–197. ︎
25. Elena Gurevich, ‘”Anonymous, Trollkvenna heiti” in Poetry from Treatises on Poetics. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 3, ed. K. E. Gade and E. Marold. (Brepols, 2017), 723. https://skaldic.org/m.php?p=text&i=3185. ︎
26. Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir, “Behind the Cloak, between the Lines: Trolls and the Symbolism of Their Clothing in Old Norse Tradition,” European Journal of Scandinavian Studies, (January 1, 2017), 331, https://www.academia.edu/35257514/Behind_the_cloak_between_the_lines_Trolls_and_the_symbolism_of_their_clothing_in_Old_Norse_tradition. ︎
27. Guðmundsdóttir, _Cloak,_ 332, 334 ︎
28. Guðmundsdóttir, _Cloak,_ 332–336 ︎
29. Lindow, _Norse Mythology,_ 196 ︎
30. “Swords,” The Viking Age Compendium, https://www.vikingage.org/wiki/wiki/Swords. ︎
31. Bjørn, Anathon and Haakon Shetelig, Viking Antiquities in Great Britain and Ireland (H. Aschehoug, 1940), 60, https://archive.org/details/vikingantiquitie04scie/page/60/mode/1up. ︎
32. “Sword,” British Museum, https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/H_1915-0504-1. ︎
33. “Sö 90,” Runor, http://kulturarvsdata.se/uu/srdb/4794814b-0795-4892-92df-21d7abc4a473. ︎
34. Martin Chase (ed.), “Einarr Skúlason, Geisli 29″ in Margaret Clunies Ross (ed.), Poetry on Christian Subjects. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 7. (Brepols, 2007) 30-1, https://skaldic.org/m.php?p=verse&i=2059&v=i. ︎
35. “The List of Alternate Titles | Viking Icelandic,” SCA Heraldry, https://heraldry.sca.org/titles.html#Viking%20Icelandic. ︎
36. Richard Cleasby and Guðbrandr Vigfússon. An Icelandic-English Dictionary, 2nd ed. (Clarendon, 1957), http://www.germanic-lexicon-project.org/html/oi_cleasbyvigfusson/b0331.html. ︎
37. “Lanea’s Opal,” Mydwynter Studios, https://mydwynterstudios.com/laneas-opal/. ︎
38. “Kolfinna’s Golden Dolphin,” Mydwynter Studios, https://mydwynterstudios.com/kolfinnas-golden-dolphin/. ︎
39. “Suphunibal rabat bat Abdeshmun: Laurel,” Meisterin Kolfinna Valravn, https://sites.google.com/view/kvalravn/scribe/2022/08-laurel-suphunibal-rabat-bat-abdeshmun. ︎
40. “Younger Fuþark Vowels ᚢ u, ᛁ i, and ᛅ a,” Orðstírr, https://ordstirr.wordpress.com/runes/younger-futhark-vowels-%E1%9A%A2-u-%E1%9B%81-i-and-%E1%9B%85-a/ ︎
41. “Writing English in Runes,” YouTube, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A271ohcO7Yc. ︎
42. “All About The Futhark(s)”, Scandinavian Archaeology, https://www.scandinavianarchaeology.com/all-about-the-futharks/. ︎

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Cleasby, Richard and Guðbrandr Vigfússon. An Icelandic-English Dictionary. 2nd ed. Clarendon, 1957. http://www.germanic-lexicon-project.org/html/oi_cleasbyvigfusson/b0331.html.

Eriksson, Kristina Ekero, and Dick Harrison. Vikingaliv. Natur & Kultur, 2017.

Fuglesang, Signe Horn. Some Aspects of the Ringerike Style: A Phase of 11th Century Scandinavian Art. Odense University Press, 1980. http://archive.org/details/someaspectsofrin0000fugl.

Fuglesang, Signe Horn. “Swedish Runestones of the Eleventh Century: Ornament and Dating.” In Runeninschriften als Quellen interdisziplinärer Forschung: Abhandlungen des Vierten Internationalen Symposiums über Runen und Runeninschriften in Göttingen vom 4.-9. August 1995 / Proceedings of the Fourth International Symposium on Runes and Runic Inscriptions in Göttingen, 4-9 August 1995, edited by Klaus Düwel, 197–218. De Gruyter, 2012. https://doi.org/10.1515/9783110821901.197.

Gräslund, Anne-Sofie. “Dating the Swedish Viking-Age Rune Stones on Stylistic Grounds.” In Runes and Their Secrets: Studies in Runology, edited byEdited by Marie Stoklund, Michael Lerche Nielsen, Bente Holmberg, and Gillian Fellows-Jensen. Museum Tusculanum Press, 2006. https://www.academia.edu/6107509/Dating_the_Swedish_Viking_Age_rune_stones_on_stylistic_grounds

Graham-Campbell, James, Signe Horn Fuglesang, Ingmar Jansson, and Helen Clarke. “Viking Art.” In Oxford Art Online: Grove Art Online. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1996.

Gurevich, Elena. ‘”Anonymous, Trollkvenna heiti.” Poetry from Treatises on Poetics. Skaldic Poetry of the Scandinavian Middle Ages 3, edited by Kari Ellen Gade and Edith Marold. Brepols, 2017. https://skaldic.org/m.php?p=text&i=3185.

Kitzler Åhfeldt, Laila. “The Rune Stone Fragments at Köpingsvik.” In From Ephesos to Dalecarlia. Reflections on Body, Space and Time in Medieva I and Early Modern Europe, edited by E. Regner, C. von Heine, L. Kitzler Ähfeldt, & A. Kjellström. The Museum of National Antiquities, Stockholm. Studies I1. Stockholm Studies in Archaeology 48, 2009. https://www.academia.edu/3445233/The_Rune_Stone_Fragments_at_K%C3%B6pingsvik.

Lindow, John. Norse Mythology: A Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals, and Beliefs. Oxford University Press, 2001.

Porter, Cheryl A. “You Can’t Tell a Pigment by Its Color.” In Making the Medieval Book. Techniques of Production, 1995.

Evighetsrunor.”Runor.” https://app.raa.se/open/runor/search.

Wilson, David M. “The Development of Viking Art.” In The Viking World. Edited by Stefan Brink with Neil Price, 323–338. London: Routledge, 2008.

Wood, Rita. “The Pictures on the Greater Jelling Stone.” Danish Journal of Archaeology 3 (May 1, 2014), https://doi.org/10.1080/21662282.2014.929882.

This scroll is bit different from my usual, in myriad ways. Not least because I was actually there to see it presented in person for once (yay!), and because it was created on site, but—and most importantly—it’s an assemblage more about the recipient’s interests than a specific place-time.

This also means I don’t have much art historical to say about it, which I consider the meat and potatoes of my SCA efforts.

Still. Let’s…dig in.

the big dig

For a previous scroll, I had planned-but-not-enacted a shadow box of an archaeological dig, which means I already had the inspiration and a lot of exiting materials on hand. So when I was asked to help with Glaukos’s scroll, I knew immediately it was time to use them. No one else I know in the SCA more deserves a dig-in-a-box than he does. Providentially, it was as if the materials were just waiting for him.

Glaukos requested the Nebra Sky Disc in his ICOP (In Case of Peerage document), which sounded to me like a great idea for a focus. I began by researching options for other artifacts to place in association around it, items which made sense in terms of location and time. Because, as I said before, I really want my scrolls to hang together that way.

I considered fabricating a version of a dagger from another find from the Aunjetitzer/Únětice culture, the Leubingen tumulus (below, left), which looks remarkably similar to the bronze swords found alongside the Sky Disk (below, middle). I have pottery experience, so I was also planning to make some sherds of Corded Ware based on that found in another related site known as the grave of Helmsdorf (below, right). I also thought about resurrecting my very dusty knowledge of flintknapping, and making something that might, if my skill held true, have ended up more artifact than debitage.

And as for the words, the plan was to construct a plausible Balto-Slavic inscription in the way Kolfinna and I have both done previously—I with Kolfinna’s Golden Dolphin, and and the two of us together for Suphunibal’s Laurel.

However, partway through the ideation phase Suphunibal suggested that it might make more sense simply to add other things Glaukos is interested in, rather than intend to construct a realistic archaeological assemblage. I was unsure at first (again, keeping the art of a scroll to within the same plausible time and space is usually very important to me), but in the end, we went with the broader theme.

This had two benefits.

First, because in the beginning I thought the scroll was going to be a large group project, this new format would more easily allow multiple people to contribute items to the whole. Indeed, although the project ultimately shifted, alongside her words and transliteration Suphunibal did contribute the array of small items to plant in the ground with the disk and the scroll.

The second benefit concerned the setting of the words. If the artifact didn’t have to fit within the timeframe of the Disk, we had a lot more leeway. Clay tablets? Ingots¹? Gold amulet²? Papyrus? Papyrus seemed best within our constraints, so papyrus we did.

But more on that later. Right now, the disk.

the disk

The Nebra Sky Disk was found illegally in 1999 by “treasure hunters” looters, greatly disrupting its archaeological provenience. In spite of this, researchers generally agree that it was created in the Early Bronze Age (ca. 1800–1600 BCE)³. Testing has revealed that its materials come from as wide a spread as Austria, the Carpathian mountains, and Cornwall⁴.

Originally, the bronze disk was created in five stages⁵, wherein the bronze was carved, the gold sheets inlayed, and the bronze edges hammered over to secure the sheets in place⁶. My version is also bronze, but the gold was painted on top, textured in my best attempt to replicate the existing find. (Doing so was rather fun). And rather than rely on the chemical vagaries of real patina, this version is a more stable and reliable layer of paint. It’s also half the usual size, the better to fit in multiple items alongside it.

The result is a pleasing facsimile of an ancient find, its sky boat and Pleiades shining just as brightly out of the deep sky as in the original.

the assemblage

I was grateful that Suphunibal came prepared. On site we selected a range of “artifacts” to highlight Glaukos’s interests, including:

• a carnelian wreath
• an arrowhead
• many assorted beads of appropriate materials and shapes
• a sliver of “bone”
• a faience eye
• a bronze wire pin, previously made by S herself
• a lapiz bead
• and, in a nod to his heraldry, a golden owl surrounded by a purple feature in the dirt , and some strategically-placed stones dusted with gold. (Stones from Bow Street, as it happens. There be Pennsic in that there scroll.)

Added to the disk I’d made previously and the papyrus scroll to come, the gestalt felt like something that would resonate as Glaukos.

the matrix

My agéd archaeological experience was in the Northeastern United States, so before I embarked on this journey I researched what the soil would look like. Glaukos is Athenian, so based on a variety of photos of Northern Mediterranean digs I mixed up a color palette of ochres, pale reds, sands, and sepias. Gritty and heavy bodied acrylic media helped create texture, along with red clay powder from Suphunibal’s stash. Once I added lamp black and raw umber as subtle ash deposits, the illusion was complete.

I’m really quite proud of how it turned out—especially given the fact that I was creating this during one of the most rainy and humid Pennsics of my experience. If I forget what it’s made from, I can almost smell the petrichor and feel the dirt under my fingernails.

sing of him, muse

While Suphunibal composed and transliterated the words into Ancient Greek, I was putting the final touches on the big dig. And when she was done, she handed them off for me to make them material. I aged a piece of papyrus, and wrote the words in brown ink with a stylus. In the blank space at the bottom I painted his arms.

Our Society’s requirement to include arms on scrolls is complicated when the scrolls reflect places and times which lack them, and particularly so the further the world of the scroll gets from Late Middle Age Europe.

This scroll is thousands of years before that.

So while the body of the piece contains a nod to his arms, I did my best to fit that nod within the world of the scroll. It therefore doesn’t tick all the required heraldic boxes. By flipping the owl and changing it to reflect the Athenian style on pottery and coinage, and then adding the arms themselves to the bottom of the furled papyrus, I could include what was required without the (much more modern) arms knocking viewers out of the illusion.

And then, at the very end of the creation process, I called an audible. The physical papyrus scroll itself was originally intended to attach at the top so it could be unfurled if Glaukos took it out of the frame. But ultimately I decided that, given the way I’d carved the setting, it created the perfect nest for the scroll without it. This way Glaukos could literally remove a scroll from the dirt should he wish to.

This solution felt a lot cooler. Who wouldn’t want to take an item out of the place carved for it, play with it, and put it back? Countless children’s toys are based on this principle.

It’s a little extra detail of joy. It made me smile, and I hope it makes Glaukos smile, too.

thanks

I owe thanks to Suphunibal for the donations of small artifacts, papyrus, red clay, and tools. When I had to radically adjust my expectations, your extra supplies were a boon. I’m grateful for them.

Thanks also to Alasdair for free reign of the toolbox, for the trust and generosity alongside the ruler and cutting blade. Your timing was perfect.

Deepest thank you to Vee for letting me dominate the space behind Dancing Pig Pottery and turn it into a crafting den. Your (and Roan’s and Rahe’s) patience, spirit, and humor kept me and the work going. I honestly couldn’t have done it without you.

And thanks are also due to Kolfinna, Panda, and Indigo. Thanks for being you, while I was being this. Making a scroll on site is never my first choice, so your company was more helpful than you know.

Honestly, thanks to everyone in my extended Pennsic family who so much as sat with me or brought me a drink or joked about chocolate cake. This started out being a large group project, and then it wasn’t. And in the end, it kind of was.

One of the benefits to having been a maker and artist for most of my life is the trust in my own ability to improvise. When the plan changed, I knew that if I tapped into my forty years of experience and didn’t overthink it, I could get the job done. And hell: resilience and flexibility often turns up unlooked-for gems, and I suspected the result might even be better than planned. All I had to do was dive in, and swim with the current. (Easy to do, with such a wet Pennsic.)

In the end, I’m delighted with the result. I hope Glaukos is, too.

Congratulations, my friend.

notes

1. These Late Cypriot copper ingots would have been fun, if a bit complicated to replicate within the time allotted. https://www.researchgate.net/publication/280727449_Miniature_Ingots_from_Cyprus ︎
2. I’ve done this before. See Lanea’s Opal for an example of the depths of research I’ve plumbed in the attempt. ︎
3. Ernst Pernicka et al, “Why the Nebra Sky Disc Dates to the Early Bronze Age. An overview of the Interdisciplinary Results.” In Archaeologia Austriaca 104, Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften 2020, S. 89-122. https://doi.org/10.1553/archaeologia104s89 ︎
4. For the gold, see https://doi.org/10.1127/0935-1221/2011/0023-2140, and the for the tin of the bronze, see https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1111/j.1475-4754.2010.00515.x Thorough testing of the bronze was integral to its overall dating and verification. See above. ︎
5. https://www.landesmuseum-vorgeschichte.de/en/nebra-sky-disc/the-phases-of-the-sky-disc ︎
6. https://www.landesmuseum-vorgeschichte.de/en/nebra-sky-disc/from-copper-ore-to-celestial-image ︎