A characteristic amuletic form from the Eighteenth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt (c.1550 – 1298 B.C.E.) is that of a heart, shaped like a jug, composed of glass, and further decorated with clustered lines or “trailed threads.” A handful of heart amulets belonging to this type at the Art Institute of Chicago are more specifically dated to the reign of Amenhotep IV/Akhenaten (c.1351 – 1334 B.C.E.), and indeed further archaeological work at Akhenaten’s new capital of Akhet-Aten, modern day Tell el-Amarna, attests to the heart as an amuletic form appearing throughout the reign of Egypt’s so-called “heathen king.” In this paper I consider the material appearance and composition of heart amulets, along with their larger symbolic significance and role in Ancient Egyptian funerary tradition, in concert with the political, religious, and artistic upheavals that defined Akhenaten’s reign. I argue that heart amulets are crucial to understanding the radical shifts that took place during the Amarna Period, especially given the heart and the heart amulet’s funerary role and association with Pharaonic authority. By considering the heart amulet’s place in mortuary archaeology at Amarna, evidence for domestic religion under the doctrine of Aten, the budding glass working industry established by Akhenaten, and the shifts that occurred directly after Akhenaten’s death and into the Ramesside Period (c. 1292 – 1077 B.C.E.), the significance of the heart amulet in understanding the Amarna Period is laid bare.

The obelisk became part of Egyptian history in the first and second millennia BC. Early obelisks such as the Montecitorio obelisk and its twin (ca. 640 B.C.E.) were dedications to the Sun God Ra and the current ruling Pharaoh who commissioned said obelisk. However, as civilizations rise and fall, the obelisk, a uniquely Egyptian object, becomes discovered and adopted by Roman Emperor Augustus and delivered to Rome in 10 CE. This essay offers a survey of the obelisk from ancient Egypt to Constantinople by establishing why and how the Romans appropriated the obelisk as their own monument. To better understand these evolutions and continuities, we can examine the iconographies, public displays, and socio-political functions in the obelisk as it is adopted by Roman society. Once in Rome, the obelisk is established as a dedication to the conquest over Egyptian following Augustus’ success in the Battle of Actium (31 B.C.E.) but also as a circus monument through the Circus Maximus (ca. 6th c. B.C.E.). The changes expressed through the public display of the obelisk in Rome permanently shifts the obelisk’s original meaning from the dedication to Ra to the representation of the Pax Romana. 

The use of spolia, the reuse of architectural elements, in the late Roman Empire has been interpreted by art historians from a variety of perspectives since the 16th century. Giorgio Vasari, an Italian artist, and author, who is credited with developing art historical studies during the Italian Renaissance, believed that spolia resulted from the loss of art appreciation and talent during Emperor Constantine’s reign in the 4th century. This interpretation endured until German art historians of the 20th century reevaluated this claim and began to develop different theories regarding spolia, stating that they emerged for many reasons, such as new aesthetics, convenience, and political statements. Since the 20th century, there has been a much wider study and understanding of the context and nuance in the use of spolia in ancient Rome. Through an analysis of primary sources, Roman law codes and poetry, we can understand the attitudes toward spolia by the people and leaders of Rome, which many modern scholars consider to be indifference. By studying specific examples of spolia from that time, such the Arch of Constantine (315 CE) and the Lateran Basilica (324 CE), we can better understand the various reasons for Romans using spolia. Spoliation often comes from multiple wants and needs, such as: utility (sustainability and the basic need for building materials), aesthetics (appreciation for the unique style of spolia), and ideological purposes (creating a narrative or associations through the use of spolia). The historical study of spolia gives us a unique look into the dynamics of the lives and morals of ancient Romans and enhances our understanding of this history. 

Highlighting the emergence of the imagined pilgrimage as a means for individuals to participate in Jerusalem’s spiritual significance marks the development of pilgrimage from exclusively physical journeys to the expansion into remote forms. Through a focused analysis of Matthew Paris’s maps in the Chronica majora and the labyrinth pavements at Chartres Cathedral, I examine how Christian pilgrims engaged with the Holy City in ways that transcended physical travel during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. Additionally, I trace the political shifts and devotional exercises that influenced the creation of these participatory representations. Linked in their prompts for physical interaction and prolonged meditation, both Paris’s maps and the Chartres labyrinth displace their user from time and space, into a projection of the Holy City. The Christian notion of Jerusalem as a convergence of earthly and divine realms informs the discussion of these unconventional possibilities for pilgrims. Mapping traditions and iconography aid in understanding how users recognized these devotional tools as symbolic representations of Jerusalem and extracted meaning from them. While Christian traditions of mapping Jerusalem articulate the perception that the city occupies both an earthly and heavenly form, the imagined pilgrimage supports Christian pilgrims in expressing the city’s duality.

Through his gallery, The Little Galleries of the Photo-Secession, and his publication, Camera Work, Alfred Stieglitz advocated for photography's elevation as a medium of expression, challenging traditional views. As the movement progressed, Stieglitz shifted his attention to include contemporary art, broadening America's understanding of modernism. Through strategic organization in person and on paper, Stieglitz played a vital role in defining and enlightening the world on the intersection of photography and modern art.

This paper presents a comparative analysis of the interpretations of indigenism and its impact on national identity in post-revolutionary Mexican art, focusing on the works of Diego Rivera (1886-1957), José Clemente Orozco (1883-1949), and David Alfaro Siqueiros (1896- 1974). During the Mexican Revolution, a period marked by significant social and political upheaval, these artists engaged deeply with themes of national identity, cultural heritage, and social inequality. Through a detailed examination of Rivera's romantic portrayal of Mexico's indigenous and peasant cultures, contrasted with the more critical approaches of Orozco and Siqueiros, the paper explores how their art critiques, reflects, and influences perceptions of national identity and cultural norms in the face of Eurocentric and elitist influences. This study not only sheds light on the complex dynamics of art, politics, and identity in post-revolutionary Mexico but also emphasizes the everlasting legacy of these artists in reimagining Mexican national identity through the lens of indigenism.

Alice Rahon (1904-1987) was a prominent French multimedia artist who experimented with elements of Abstract Expressionism and Surrealism. Despite her successful forty-year career, Rahon is regularly omitted from traditional art historical narratives. She emerged alongside other great Surrealists, such as Frida Kahlo, Max Ernst, and Pablo Picasso. However, she is often overshadowed by her first husband, artist Wolfgang Paalen. This paper seeks to give Rahon her due diligence while highlighting her unique practice—a practice intrigued by the spiritual, while grappling with the modern age and searching for her identity. Her use of organic materials and ancient techniques defy conventional definitions of painting, resulting in a compelling ritual practice. Rahon’s ceremonious creations are rooted in spiritualism, her ancestry, and performance of self— serving as a transcendent escape. Using Rahon’s 1948 work Self-Portrait and Autobiography as a guiding example, this paper examines Rahon’s art as mode of meditative ceremony. Fleeing from France during World War II, Rahon landed in Mexico City, Mexico in 1939. Here, she was struck by the Americas’ rich indigenous traditions. Her materials blend the organic and manmade—using sand and volcanic ash to get closer to the spiritual realm. She drew inspiration from codices and ancient petroglyphs, or incisions in rock, to connect with her primordial self. Through making these highly personal works, Rahon embarks on a journey to examine her identity amidst her marriage, turbulent social change, and entering a new landscape.

As political tensions heightened in Europe in the late 1930s and 1940s, many surrealist artists who had been working in Paris fled to Mexico City, fearing that they would be persecuted for their work, which the Nazis infamously denounced as "degenerate art." Among these artists were British painter and writer Leonora Carrington (1917-2011) and Spanish painter Remedios Varo (1908-1963). In their adoptive home of Mexico City, Carrington and Varo formed a close friendship and collaborative artistic relationship, forged by their interests in mythology, alchemy, and mysticism. While the two artists continued a surrealist exploration of the subconscious mind in their work, they diverged from the source material of Freud and Jung favored by Breton and other male surrealists in their Parisian circle. In this circle, Carrington and Varo’s identities were reduced to the femme-enfants or girl-child muses of their artistic and romantic partners, painter Max Ernst and poet Benjamin Peret. After relocating to Mexico City, Carrington and Varo formed their own identities as surrealist artists by focusing on female subjects and referencing occult practices, which they believed to be a traditionally female domain. In this essay, I will examine Carrington and Varo's distinct style of surrealism, focusing on Carrington's 1955 painting The Chair, Dagha Tautha de Danaan, and Varo's 1960 painting Mimetismo, or Mimicry. These two paintings, which both represent a female figure whose body is merged with a chair, illustrate a conversation between the two artists about identity, mythology, alchemy, and mysticism.

This essay analyzes the artwork of Henry Darger (1892-1973). Darger is oftentimes thought of as an outsider artist whose work is unanchored in time and space, but closer examination of his visual language shows us that his art is prototypical to the Chicago Imagists; an artists’ movement centered around the School of the Art Institute (SAIC) in the 1960s. Darger’s fascination with pop culture, reused images and use of distressing imagery put his work in line with artists such as Ray Yoshida and Jim Nutt; among others. By looking at Darger’s art and life in reference to other contemporary artistic movements in Chicago, we can better understand his work in an art historical context. I will examine the ways in which myths regarding Darger’s biography distort perceptions of his work and argue how to best carry out the artist's legacy. The objective of this essay is not to label Darger an Imagist or to pigeonhole his work. Rather I believe that an investigation into Darger’s visual language can give us a better understanding of the motivations of midcentury Chicago artists overall.

Mali is currently an epicenter of African art photography as local artists expand the financially appropriate definitions of Malian photography from the well loved, successful portrait photographs of Seydou Keïta and Malick Sidibé to politically and socially charged works that respond to contemporary political issues. The tradition of Malian portrait photography has influenced the world as the creation of Bamako Encounters-African Biennial of Photography in 1994 showed the global interest in Malian, and African, photography as well as gave local photographers a platform on which to safely express their ideas, culture, and artistic prowess. Bamako, Mali’s capital and home to the exhibition, has overseen the exponentially politicized arena of Malian photography as local artists gain access to a global art market. Events such as democratization, coups, the growth of global financial markets, and the creation of Bamako encounters have been large factors in these artistic changes and Bamako has become the epicenter of a changing artistic landscape. All these political factors inspired/forced Malian photographers to use their successful national tradition of portrait photography and make contemporary human statements about their nation, their lives, and the government that surrounds them to cope with and even change their political circumstances.

This paper examines the climate crisis and how we might solve it through applications of vernacular architectural practices and ideals in our modern built environment. By taking inspiration from vernacular African earth-based architecture, we could achieve an architectural language which is once again in harmony with our environment, rather than in direct opposition of it. Earth and structures made from it benefit greatly from numerous naturally occurring technologies which prove advantageous to modern applications in building. These include temperature regulation without the need for air conditioning—in the correct environment, of course—as well as fire resistance. By eliminating the need for mechanical temperature regulation, the energy consumed by a building is significantly reduced. Likewise, using earth such as clay to construct a building also reduces the amount of energy consumed during the building process. These properties of earth can be combined with modern technologies to create even more efficient homes without sacrificing any contemporary comforts as demonstrated by Mario Cucinella’s development of the TECLA house in Italy. While earth may not be an ideal construction material for all buildings, inspiration from the natural world can still be involved in modern construction through the application of biomimicry. The Eastgate Center in Harare, Zimbabwe is exemplary of this process which involves observing the operations of the natural world (in this case, the temperature regulation of termite mounds) and, using new technologies, mimicking them in modern structures. The current standard of construction will only continue to contribute to the climate crisis, but we need not sacrifice the comforts provided to us by it; taking an approach to architecture which harnesses the natural technologies of the world to provide the same comforts, like that of traditional Africa, is a viable solution to the death of our planet.

In recent years, historic house museums and sites have faced an ongoing struggle to capture the interest of younger generations and to build inclusive atmospheres that tell the stories that have shaped history. Historic house museums face many intrinsic difficulties, such as a lack of physical space, staff, and resources, often further hindered by outdated, and perhaps stale, interpretation practices. By analyzing the approaches taken by various examples of historic house museums, sites, and societies, both successful and unsuccessful, a clearer picture of what it will take to revive these unique spaces will emerge. Through this exploration, one can see that in order for historic house museums and sites to remain relevant and attract the attention and interest of America’s youth, they must address every angle of the narrative of American history, even its most painful realities, and implement modern best-practices and approaches to better establish connections with their audience. As museum professionals continue their work to build exhibits and gallery spaces based on representation and inclusion, it is imperative that historic house museums and sites are included in this effort. These valuable spaces have the ability to bring history to life for visitors, making them especially worthy of analysis and eventual improvement so that they may continue to serve as stewards of historical truths. 

The mysterious French mistress persona of Marcel Duchamp, Rrose Sélavy, has become an icon for future artists. Sélavy changed the representation of artists from a blue-collar manly man to the “bi-gendered and dandified” eccentric that seems to seep through the work of many modern and contemporary practices. The existence of Rrose Sélavy created a free space for the fine art world to go from the picturesque Brancusi’s performing at the peak of masculinity to the Andy Warhol’s practicing creative expression within art and as a lifestyle.

Exploring individuality and the artist’s experience within society as a form of art and artistic practice helped truly bridge the gap between the traditional works of the Academy and the Avant-Garde works circumnavigating the Salons of the 20th century. Rrose Sélavy has influenced the perception and role of the artist in society for the past 100 years completely shifting the demographic of aspiring artists and those being showcased in fine art institutions. Examining the work of more contemporary artist in context with Sélavy in mind, this paper shows how Duchamp and his alter ego changed the perception of artists to come. Sélavy forced the modern art critics to look at modern works with new lenses and helped many future artists find the tools to do the same with advertising, making the life of the artist a performance piece itself, and blurring the lines of analysis and methodology critics have used for decades. Sélavy popularized the idea that artists have agency in their perception and therefore changed the reception of art and artist in the public eye.

In the United States a person is sexually assaulted every 73 seconds.[1] In my research paper I will discuss non-binary artists that have created activist artworks to heal from their own trauma and call attention to the devastating rate that people experience sexual violence. Their artworks have encountered some of the same scrutiny similar to that of survivors. However, the artists’ works have also been turned into foundations of community healing. I will be examining photography, book art, and endurance performance pieces by non-binary artists Zanele Muholi, Mirabelle Jones, and Emma Sulkowicz. All of these artists have created deeply personal works that bring attention to their communities. These artists make sure that their works are accessible and incorporate members of their communities. In addition, by having created archival resources and public initiatives these artists make spaces for inclusion and support. Circulation and the attention that these works received have expanded beyond the artists original intent, resulting in negative attention as well as causing the artwork to become more personal to its viewers. Through the use of data statistics on sexual violence, and queer and feminist critical theory, readers will gain insight into the realities of sexual violence from the outlook of someone from a non-binary perspective.

[1] RAINN, "Scope of the Problem: Statistics," RAINN.

Calligraphy has existed as the pinnacle medium for divine artistic expression and human intellect for centuries. Artists and scholars in China have painstakingly united lingual spheres of understanding with prominent compositional qualities, and in doing so have enhanced both language and aesthetic criteria to an elevated method creating and consolidating meaning. Elite members of Chinese society have historically been exalted and revered for their abilities to dictate their minds in capturing and integrating verbiage throughout bold swathes and delicate washes of undulating black ink. Drawing and writing are inextricably tied within this careful practice, wherein each line of characters may behave so uniquely they may stand in place for the author themselves. The closeness between these visual formal qualities of line and their semantic meanings are as much interrelated as the calligraphers most personal internal qualities are to the work itself. The contemporary understanding of calligraphy has been radically shaped by the political and ideological focus of the Great Cultural Revolution.

The radical democratization of character drawing, as it will be shown, reflect the held belief by Mao Zedong that in order to reshape society and its inhabitants, so too one must reshape the written word and by extension its long-held disparate associations. Calligraphy, in a divisive turn of events, may be subsumed for purposes of communal intelligibility, and in doing so creating a unilaterally understood mode of operation. The systematic dismantling of the aristocratic art form into didactic and legible script involved its practice by the most rural and even vulnerable members of society. Despite its inherent exclusionary nature, Mao would attempt to affect wide proportions of his population by ushering a novel discourse as to the power of calligraphy to inspire capable workmen and enact a righteous reversal of the static social stratification. The spirit of the Cultural Revolution and its inherent aims are properly understood through these concerns with language and its divisive spirit through the unraveling and reappropriating language as China knew it. It was apparent that in order for Mao Zedong to successfully usher in a Cultural Revolution, and lasting change, the once bourgeois and elite art form of calligraphy must be used by and for its people. The power-wielding influence of the pen and its once playful and unique transmutations would become at once leveled and organized for the eventual successes of the Chinese Communist Party.

Utagawa Hiroshige's woodblock print Shinano Province: The Moon Reflected in the Sarashina Rice Fields near Mount Kyodai (Shinano, Sarashina tagoto no tsuki, Kyodaisan) is looked at closely here through the art historical methodologies of materiality and semiotics. Several scholars' works - both Western and Japanese -  and comparison to other woodblock prints are used to analyze the history and artistic qualities of Hiroshige's print. Evaluating this particular work in such detail allows one to see both the useful qualities and the downfalls of these methodologies as well as gaps in the scholarship surrounding specific works of art outside of the Western canon. There is more beyond just the artist's life that is necessary to evaluate woodblock prints. Materiality is useful for understanding the work that goes into creating a woodblock print and the importance of the materials used. Yet, art history scholarship has historically side-lined this method as well as the findings from it. In terms of Hiroshige's woodblock prints, the underuse of materiality leaves the work of carvers unrecognized and important questions of who should be recognized as alongside the artist are left unasked. Semiotics is used here to understand the complexities of the contexts this work is viewed, displaying how little this print's Japanese qualities have been considered both in scholarship and in museums. Text accompanying these works largely ignores the intrinsic Japanese nature within the prints. In museum spaces, information such as explanations of the importance of a location depicted is left out and Western perspectives are favored. Hiroshige's The Moon Reflected provides an intriguing case study to evaluate the methods art history uses, particularly concerning those works outside of the canon. By looking into scholarship surrounding non-Western works, the quality of art historical methodologies can be assessed.​