As I wandered through the halls full of artifacts from Ancient Greece, I caught sight of

the towering Marble Statue of a Wounded Warrior. The warrior was in a position that indicated

he was about to attack, yet his upper body leaned back in a falling position. He had his right arm

flexed while his feet were firmly planted on the slanted surface. His right arm also bore a wound.

Next, I focused on who was depicted and the significance of the statue. I learned his name might

have been Protesilaos. This man was the first Greek to step on Trojan land. He blatantly ignored

the ominous warning from the oracle, which warned that the first man to arrive on Trojan land,

would be the first to be killed. Protesilaos kept his right arm firmly flexed and remained his

stance, despite being severely wounded. He was focused, calm, determined, and looked

undaunted of the consequences. Protesilaos could be acknowledged as a representation of

bravery in its human form and not just artwork. He could not be seen cowering on the ground in

fear, nor could he even be seen wincing in pain. Perhaps, the statue was created because it was to

honor his fearlessness and to keep his memory alive. Protesilaos can still be looked up as a man

who was the epitome of determination and valor.

The First Petal

First man, first death

Regret floods my heart

Remembering that fateful day

My youthful mind not thinking right

Craving the smell of sweet victory

So eager for blood

Yet I had forgotten the cost

To be the first man on Trojan territory

Heart drummed a fast beat

Face emotionless

Confident enough but lacked the skills

Or I wouldn’t have had that wound

The spear pierced through skin

Skin broke apart

Easily as breaking a twig

And blood gushed out

Soon I succumbed to the intense pain

My shoulder struck by lightening

Felt myself lurch back

And lost my formation

I knew it was over

I heard death approaching

As life drained out of me

And I said my prayers

Now as a ghost in Hades’ realm

I have learned from my past

And hope others are more cautious

For life is as fragile as a petal.

By Ria Sawhney

The Sphinx sculpture at the Met is made of marble, but has little reds, greens, and

blues peeking out from underneath the beige and worn out white. The sculpture looks

small but heavy. I think this because the sculpture is small, but looks clunky, weighted

down and hard to carry. The Sphinx in the sculpture is leaning back on her hind legs

and looks out toward you, filled with pride. There are many little details and designs on

her wings and chest. Medium sized circles are engraved on her chest. Curved lines

stretch from her chest to her wings. There are different shades of colors because the

marble is old and faded. I think the Sphinx’s voice would be slow, but chilly, and would

send shivers down people’s spines. She looks as though she is protecting something

and is a leader. She looks wise, courageous, confident, controlling, but secretive. If the

Sphinx could speak, I think she would laugh mockingly, and then say, “You think that

you can fool me… well you thought wrong,” and then laugh again. She looks calm in the

statue, but I think that underneath her calmness is a frightful monster.

The Vicious Sphinx

Sitting atop a ledge,

Glancing out towards the blue open sky,

Lies the Sphinx.

She holds her head up high with pride,

Leaning on her hind legs

Waiting to fly up and attack you

At any moment.

Her vicious eyes glare at you,

Looking deep down into your soul.

When she speaks, her voice is icy.

Her every word stabs you like daggers,

Sending shivers down your spine.

She is controlling, using her wise words to confuse you.

She is confident, for she never thinks about herself as inferior to others.

She is protective, as she stands guard the gates of Thebes.

She is secretive, for you never know what she might do next.

The Sphinx looks calm and poised, perched on a ledge,

But underneath that calmness lies a frightful monster.

By Morgan van Kesteren

The “Marble capital and finial in the form of a sphinx” used to be located on a grave

marker. It represented “guardian of the dead.” Colors shown were brown, lemon, and orange.

From the keen eyes of the sphinx, I found her determination and eagerness to protect the youth

and the young girl from bad spirits. Tension was also felt because her head was turned as if she

was staring at the person who challenged her. Her solid toes and robust shoulders would have

chased anyone. Also, her sharp-edged wings symbolized her pride which was smoothly carved.

The grave marker, due to the tallness, enabled the sphinx to see anyone from a great distance and

stay well-preserved. The sphinx’s appearance truly conveyed the idea of perseverance and

boldness.

The Mighty Sphinx

As I stretched my wings to greet the frigid dawn,

Thick fog settled down on the graveyard

Oh, why does the day start ominously!

Soon footsteps came closer

Twitching my eyes straight to Satan, my perpetual enemy

My two fierce eyes determined, I exclaimed,

No one can get through me!

With a silent pause, Satan sneered

My outrage soon shattered

I flapped my sharp-edged bold wings

Soon forming a gale

Puffed my shoulder muscles

Robust as horse’s

Now, do you dare to challenge me!

Of course, you pathetic one cannot even attempt

You are too feeble!

Never try to come back

I will and always taunt you, even your fellows

For I am the mighty Sphinx

Who can never be defeated!

By Kaylee Park

Met Artifacts

Marble Stele Grave-marker

This piece of artwork is 166 and 11/16 inches long, and because of its length it is a bit different than the grave makers of modern times. This grave marker is a pale cream color and depicts a large fit man holing, what seems to be, a coin or fruit and a small young girl holding one as well. The girl has a shroud draped over the lower half of her body. Atop the grave stands the proud Sphinx guarding her post. This fierce attribute was probably a way to scare away intruders. This marble stele of a youth and little girl conveys a sense of obligation and purpose because the humans seem to be on their way to a specific destination and the Sphinx’s purpose is to protect this grave. The color and texture of the grave marker are influential because with such a light color you see the wear and imperfections in the piece. For example the humans’ legs are a bit more cracked than the whole work itself. I think this adds more beauty and definition to the grave marker.

The Keeper I am the keeper of the dead and the lost, the protector of graves that are dug. I guard the dead from thievery’s grasp, and keep their treasures their own. Perhaps a sly commoner choose to pass and seal his fate with a slip of my claw. My life is spent atop a grave rather than a city’s miraculous walls. My agony stems from my foolish riddle stripped away by Oedipus’s clever mind. Here I am doomed to stand to the end of my days I am the keeper of the dead and the lost, protector of graves that are dug. By: Keanna Hunter

Terracotta Krater

The exquisite object I observed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art is called a Krater

(a vessel that would hold water or wine) that dates from the 8th century B.C from Ancient

Greece. The creamy, beige colored Krater, which is about four feet tall, was used as a sort

tomb marker. It shows the dead man’s funeral on the widest part of the large vase. There

are several hunched backed mourners at the funeral, which probably means that he was

well liked by both his family and friends. Clearly, the man or the man’s family was wealthy

enough to be able to hire artists to create this amazing krater. Ordinary citizens would not

have the money to pay for something like this. Below the funeral scenes are depictions of

him as a soldier or commander in the military. The scenes seem to depict the man as a

leader or a hero in battle. We can probably assume he gained his wealth from being in the

military. From our studies of Ancient Greece, we’ve learned that great leaders were thought

of as heroes. Although we don’t know the man’s name, it is safe to conclude that he was a

somewhat famous man in his time and had enough money to afford paying for something

that would tell his story after he died.

A Mourning

From the day I was with him my brother was a true hero

I recall the time Mother declared, “Son go milk the cow”

My brother, it was him who stepped in for me, taking it over

To the time he languished numerous battles

Returning back home with his shield in hand, till this very day

He returns on his shield

My heart sinks with agony

“Why is the man of good always seemed to be the one who doesn’t last long?”

I clamor, full of sorrow and devastation

From his body on shield, now his body in a tomb

As I circle my head from every direction, I catch sight of torn up mourners heavily sobbing

Memories begin spilling into my head

The scene was indescribable

Mother weeping her tears onto the floor, my heart broken into crumbs

I decline myself onto the surface of the ground watching the whole town supporting him in

such misery and twinge

Later on, the wooden tomb was locked, hearing the click of the metal buckle

I close my mellow eyes

Dropping myself to the floor, decreasing myself, not moving or thinking

I fall asleep right in front of my treasured brother

By: Patricia Obeid

Terracotta Prize Amphora

The piece that I observed was a terracotta prize amphora depicting three running men. It was a large coal-black jar with handles at the top, a wide middle, and a thin bottom. The three running men on the front of the amphora were painted black, and surrounded by light-brown paint so they could be distinguishable from the rest of the jar and look more defined. These men were Athenian racers. This is because the amphora was used as a prize given to the winner of a running race in Athens. It was filled with olive oil, which was extremely valuable in the time the amphora was made. The recipient of the amphora was a very lucky man!

The Men In the Jar Three men run across a shiny terracotta surface Their eyes look straight ahead; their muscular black legs stretch far behind them The perfect Greek racers They doggedly charge forward, determined to reach the finish So much strength So much resolve They can beat any foe Looking at them, I can see their fierce spirit They tear forward with the fastest immobile speed A silent race They can run forever By: Julia Cobb

Prize Amphora

In the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I saw the Terracotta Panathenaic prize

amphora. The prize amphora is 24.5 inches and it is made of terracotta clay. The painter colored it using mainly blacks and oranges but there are hints of red in it. It is a large circular vase that is wider at the top and smaller at the bottom. It has two rounded handles on the top. It is really smooth and shiny and it is depicting the footrace at one of the Panathenaic games. It is a beautiful work of art but it can also work as a functional household object. The figures in this race are black trimmed figures that the painter was specially trained in the art of making. This piece conveys many emotions when you look at the position of all the runners, you can feel the emotion that they are feeling. It conveys excitement for the runner in first place, disappointment for the runner in last place, determination for the runners in the middle who are hoping that they can pull up to the front in the last remaining seconds of the race and overall strength to run the race.

Prize Amphora Ten meters left I can do this I’m in second place And I refuse to lose Especially to Agelaus The reigning champion Keep my eyes on the prize You can do this I want that prize amphora And nothing is going to stop me I am going to get that prize amphora All these months of training And breaking records Was not and will not be in vain Finally, I’m in first Focus, focus Have to stay in first I want that prize amphora- Shiny and smooth Just like the delicious olive oil That is waiting for me inside Two meters left Push harder, run faster I won! I did it! I get the prize amphora My muscles ache And my shoulders are sore But a nice bath with some fresh olive oil should do the trick The artist Euphiletos did an awesome job The detail is exquisite with Bulging muscles and Beards on our faces The amphora itself is black and orange With the perfect amount of red Full of dainty olive oil

And a whole pack of ten strigils And it’s all mine By: Brianna Harris