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In an unexpected twist of history, Thomas Pollock Anshutz’s The Ironworkers’ Noontime, a powerful portrayal of laborers taking a rare moment of rest amidst the harsh realities of an iron mill, found itself repurposed as the centerpiece of an advertisement for Ivory Soap. This unlikely pairing of industrial grit and domestic cleanliness highlights a fascinating intersection of art and commerce, reframing the painting’s somber realism as a symbol of purity and progress. This transformation invites us to explore not just the artistic merits of Anshutz’s work but also its evolving cultural significance, as it transitioned from a poignant statement on the working class to a tool for marketing middle-class ideals.

Thomas Pollock Anshutz’s The Ironworkers’ Noontime presents a vivid snapshot of life in an industrial iron mill during the late 19th century. The painting captures a group of workers taking a break, their figures scattered across the foreground in various states of rest and conversation. The central figures are shirtless, their muscular forms accentuated by the play of light and shadow, evoking both their physical strength and the exhaustion of labor. The background is dominated by the hazy glow of molten iron and the imposing structures of the factory, subtly reminding the viewer of the workers’ demanding environment. Anshutz’s composition seamlessly integrates these human and industrial elements, drawing attention to the relationship between man and machine in this transformative era.

While Anshutz predates the formal emergence of the Ashcan School, The Ironworkers’ Noontime embodies many of its aesthetic values, making it a precursor to the movement. The painting’s gritty realism, focus on the working class, and unidealized portrayal of labor align with the Ashcan artists’ commitment to capturing the raw truths of urban and industrial life. Anshutz’s use of muted colors and dramatic lighting enhances the atmospheric tension, creating a balance between the harshness of the mill and the humanity of its workers. This empathetic yet unsentimental depiction of the labor force stands as a testament to his artistic foresight, bridging the academic traditions of his time with the emerging modernist tendencies that would later define the Ashcan ethos.

Thomas Pollock Anshutz (1851–1912) was an influential American painter and teacher, best known for his realist depictions of industrial and working-class life. Born in Newport, Kentucky, Anshutz studied art at the National Academy of Design in New York and the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts (PAFA) in Philadelphia. At PAFA, he became a pivotal figure under the mentorship of Thomas Eakins, with whom he shared a commitment to realism and the human figure. Anshutz’s early works reflect his meticulous academic training and a deep interest in the social and physical conditions of his subjects, which would become hallmarks of his career.

In addition to his painting, Anshutz was a celebrated teacher who influenced a generation of American artists, including members of the Ashcan School like Robert Henri and John Sloan. As a faculty member at PAFA, he succeeded Eakins as head of the school’s painting department, shaping its curriculum with a focus on direct observation and technical excellence. Though his body of work is relatively small, pieces like The Ironworkers’ Noontime stand as iconic representations of the social realist tradition in American art. Anshutz’s legacy endures not only through his paintings but also through his contributions to the development of modern American art, bridging the academic traditions of the 19th century with the expressive realism of the 20th.

The Ashcan style represents a pivotal movement in early 20th-century American art, characterized by its unvarnished depiction of urban and working-class life. Rejecting the idealized aesthetics of academic art and the genteel subjects favored by the Gilded Age, Ashcan artists focused on the gritty realities of modern cities—crowded streets, tenements, laborers, and everyday scenes imbued with raw emotion. Their use of dark, earthy tones and loose, dynamic brushwork emphasized immediacy and authenticity over polished perfection. Though Thomas Pollock Anshutz predates the formal Ashcan School, his work laid the groundwork for its ethos. Anshutz’s empathetic yet unsentimental portrayal of laborers reflects the same commitment to realism and the human condition that would define the Ashcan movement, making him an essential precursor to its development.

For a PowerPoint Presentation of Thomas Pollock Anshutz’s Oeuvre, please… Check HERE!

In his approach to the Parthenon, Angelos Giallinas (1857–1939), a prominent Greek watercolorist of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, not only portrayed the monument as an architectural subject but elevated it to a lyrical symbol of Greek heritage. His work, deeply connected to the theme of Light, Memory, and Reverence, reflects a profound sensitivity to the interplay between the ancient ruins and the surrounding natural environment. Born in Corfu, Giallinas studied at the local School of Fine Arts before continuing his education in Venice, Naples, and Rome. There, he absorbed the refined tonalities of the Italian landscape tradition, which he later fused with a uniquely Greek sensibility rooted in poetic realism and national pride.

Giallinas’s depictions of the Parthenon are marked by a restrained yet evocative use of watercolor. He did not aim for archaeological precision but instead emphasized the atmospheric qualities of the scene, the golden hues of Attic sunlight, the gradations of the Athenian sky, and the quiet dialogue between the ruins and the surrounding landscape. This impressionistic approach aligned with European aesthetic movements of his time while remaining deeply connected to the emotional resonance of place and memory in Greek culture.

Throughout his career, Giallinas gained significant recognition both at home and abroad. He held successful exhibitions across Europe, including in London, where his work attracted the attention of collectors and critics. In 1902, he was commissioned by the British royal family to create a series of Greek landscapes, further elevating his international profile. He played a pivotal role in legitimizing watercolor as a medium for serious artistic expression within Greek art, moving beyond its traditional role as a preparatory tool.

Technically, Giallinas mastered watercolor’s fluidity and transparency with exceptional subtlety. His brushwork was controlled yet expressive, employing translucent washes to create depth without sacrificing luminosity. He avoided harsh contrasts, favoring gradations of color that conveyed a meditative stillness. In his hands, watercolor became a means not just of depiction, but of evocation—his skies, seas, and stones imbued with feeling as much as form.

Crucially, Giallinas’s art reflects the broader cultural currents of post-independence Greece, where landscape painting became a vehicle for expressing national identity. His serene views of the Parthenon and other iconic sites participated in the 19th-century project of reconnecting modern Greece to its classical past. Yet his interpretation was not triumphant or didactic; instead, it was introspective and elegiac. By rendering these monuments with atmospheric sensitivity rather than monumental grandeur, Giallinas offered a vision of Greece that was rooted in continuity, memory, and quiet resilience—qualities that resonated deeply in a society still defining itself between antiquity and modernity.

When I look at Giallinas’s paintings of the Parthenon, I’m struck by their quiet power. There’s no theatrical drama, no exaggerated gesture—just a deep, contemplative calm. He treats the monument not as a tourist spectacle but as something intimate: a memory held in light and stone. The watercolor bleeds gently around the contours of the ruins, dissolving into the pale Athenian sky, as if he’s painting not only what he sees but what he feels. The Parthenon appears suspended in time, drifting between history and the present. Giallinas’s brush whispers rather than declares—and in that quietness, he captures something enduring, something essentially Greek.

For a Student Activity, inspired by Angelos Giallinas’s interpretation of the Parthenon, please… Check HERE!

You can view a former Teacher-Curator BLOG POST titled ‘Garden in Corfu by Angelos Giallinas’… https://www.teachercurator.com/art/garden-in-corfu-by-angelos-giallinas/?fbclid=IwY2xjawKIGElleHRuA2FlbQIxMABicmlkETF5ZWtES1JYMDBPQVY5c055AR7-a8br2Ukq3ahJuUCSU0eESsf5WwODDQtNdgSK0kYgNnSS856uiARVWSentw_aem_T8IM2xzIAGQQEC4qcWajdQ

Bibliography: https://corfuguidedtours.com/a-renowned-painters-historic-mansion/?utm_source=chatgpt.com and https://haaa.gr/news/en_30.php?utm_source=chatgpt.com

…Asclepius, that gentle craftsman who drove pain from the limbs that he healed, that hero who cured all types of diseases… as Pindar writes in Pythian 3, was the ancient Greek god of medicine and healing, both revered and deified for his mastery over human suffering. This divine healer is brought vividly to life in the Statuette of Asklepios Enthroned, crafted in an Athenian workshop between 150–200 AD and now housed in the Archaeological Museum of Ancient Corinth. Carved from marble and standing 42.3 cm tall, the figure captures Asclepius in a moment of quiet authority, seated with the familiar serpent-entwined staff at his side—a timeless symbol of restoration and medical care. Though created centuries after the height of his cult, the statuette reflects the enduring presence of Asclepius in both public worship and private devotion, embodying the belief in divine healing that spanned from the classical world into the Roman era. https://www.perseus.tufts.edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.01.0162%3Abook%3DP.%3Apoem%3D3

The Ancient Greek myths of Asclepius tell the story of a mortal born to the god Apollo and the human woman Coronis, who was raised and taught the healing arts by the wise centaur Chiron. Gifted beyond any healer before him, Asclepius became so skilled that he was said to cure incurable diseases and even bring the dead back to life. This miraculous power, however, drew the ire of Zeus, who feared that such abilities would upset the natural balance between life and death. In response, Zeus struck Asclepius down with a thunderbolt, ending his mortal life but paving the way for his deification. Worshipped across the Greek world, particularly in healing sanctuaries known as Asclepieia, Asclepius became a symbol of divine compassion and medical wisdom, bridging the realms of myth, religion, and early medical practice.

The healing sanctuaries of Asclepios become some of the most important religious and medical centers of the classical world. The most famous of these was at Epidaurus in the northeastern Peloponnese, a sprawling complex that included temples, dormitories for dream incubation, and even a theater. Other major centers of his cult were located on the island of Kos, where the physician Hippocrates is said to have trained, and at Pergamon in Asia Minor. In Athens, he was worshipped at the Asclepieion located at the foot of the Acropolis, near the Theater of Dionysus. These sanctuaries attracted the sick and afflicted from across the Greek world, who came seeking cures through ritual purification, offerings, and dreams in which Asclepius or his sacred serpent revealed treatments. His worship was not only a spiritual experience but also a foundational element in the evolution of ancient medicine.

The Statuette of Asklepios Enthroned, now housed in the Archaeological Museum of Ancient Corinth, was discovered during 1999 excavation period (by the American School of Classical Studies) of a domestic shrine within a luxurious Roman villa in the Panayia Field area of Corinth. The villa was destroyed by a violent earthquake in the late fourth century AD, preserving a collection of marble statuettes representing various deities, including Artemis, Dionysos, Herakles, Pan, Europa and Roma, alongside Asklepios (Sanders 1999, 441–444). These statuettes were part of a private cultic assemblage, suggesting ongoing pagan devotional practices within the home, even as Christianity was becoming dominant in the region. The presence of these figures in such an opulent residence reflects the persistence—albeit increasingly private—of traditional Greco-Roman religious customs among segments of the local elite during the final phases of pagan worship in Late Antique Corinth

Dated to 150–200 AD and discovered in Corinth, the Statuette presents a richly detailed image of the healing god seated in quiet authority. Asclepius is shown leaning slightly forward on a high-backed throne, his head turned gently to the right. He wears a plain round wreath atop his parted, curling hair, which falls to his shoulders, and his face is framed by a mustache and full, curly beard. Draped in a himation that cascades from his left shoulder in V-shaped folds with a zigzag border, the god’s right arm once rested over a large coiled snake, his sacred symbol, positioned along the right side of the throne. His network-style sandals, tied above the ankle, rest on a substantial footstool with squat animal feet and a central groove, while the throne itself is ornately carved with square-incised panels on the back, lyre-shaped legs, and projecting wings. A cushion beneath him adds to the sense of formality and comfort, enhancing the image of divine majesty.

Scholars suggest that this statuette may be a scaled marble reinterpretation of the famed chryselephantine cult statue of Asclepius by Thrasymedes of Paros, described by Pausanias in the temple at Epidaurus (2.27.2). Like the legendary cult image, the Corinthian figure holds a staff in his left arm and extends his right hand toward the coiled serpent, reflecting iconography seen on fourth-century BC Epidaurian coins. The white marble and traces of gilding on the Panagia statuette evoke the luxurious materials of ivory and gold used in the original, indicating it was likely crafted in homage to the Epidaurian prototype. This connection underscores the continuity of Asclepius’ cult and the enduring reverence for his divine healing power well into the Roman period.

For a Student Activity inspired by the Statuette of Asklepios Enthroned in Corinth, please… Check HERE!

Bibliography: chrome-extension://efaidnbmnnnibpcajpcglclefindmkaj/https://www.ascsa.edu.gr/uploads/media/hesperia/25068051.pdf  Pagan Statuettes in Late Antique Corinth, Sculptures from the Panayia Domus, HESPERIA 77 (2008), Pages 89-161

The beautiful Head of Goddess Tyche from Corinth takes us back on a journey to Roman Greece.  Displayed as part of the exhibition titled ‘ΝοΗΜΑΤΑ’: Personifications and Allegories from Antiquity to Today at the Acropolis Museum, this Roman masterwork travelled to Athens from the Archaeological Museum of Corinth, offering a unique opportunity to explore the multifaceted world of art and personifications.

The Head of Tyche, as a beloved symbol of fortune and protection for cities, was part of the Exhibition’s 5^th Unit of ‘Institutions,’ where personifications and allegories that represent communal—not individual—human activities were presented. These are the activities of organized societies characterized by homogeneity and unity, embodying public, social, political, and civic life. This Exhibition Unit featured not only Tyche but also Themis, Justice, and Injustice, Eunomia (Order), Hybris and Punishment, Nemesis, along with personifications of the City, Demos, Senate, Gerousia, along with various Processions and Ceremonies. Each piece offered a glimpse into the institutions governing human societies, providing context to how the ancients envisioned the forces that shaped their world.

My favourite sculpture of Tyche dates from the 1^st century AD and comes from Corinth! Let’s explore the ‘who’, ‘which’, ‘how’, and ‘what’ of this amazing sculpture by posing some questions!

Who is Tyche? Tyche, the daughter of the Titans Tethys and Oceanus was a significant figure in both Greek and Roman mythology, embodying the concept of fortune—both good and bad—and destiny. She was revered as the tutelary deity who governed the fortune and prosperity of a city, its destiny, and the personal fortunes of its inhabitants.

How did the Greeks and the Romans perceive her? For the Greeks, Tyche, the daughter of the Titans Tethys and Oceanus, originally emerged as a relatively minor deity, but her importance grew over time, especially during the Hellenistic period following the conquests of Alexander the Great. In a world where cities could rise and fall quickly due to war, economic change, and political upheaval, Tyche began to be worshipped as a powerful protector of cities and a bringer of fortune. Greek cities would often depict Tyche with symbols of plenty, like a cornucopia, and sometimes featured elements like a mural crown (representing city walls) or a rudder (symbolizing navigation or control over fate). She was also occasionally depicted with a wheel, representing the unpredictability of fortune.

For the Romans, Tyche was assimilated into Roman culture as Fortuna, who became an immensely popular deity in her own right. The Romans expanded on the concept of Tyche/Fortuna, creating various aspects of the goddess to represent different types of luck and fortunes, such as Fortuna Redux (bringing one safely home), Fortuna Augusta (fortune of the emperor), and Fortuna Privata (personal fortune). Temples and shrines to Fortuna were common in Rome and throughout the Roman Empire, reflecting her integral role in both public and private life. Roman depictions of Fortuna included similar symbols as Tyche, with the addition of the wheel and the globe, underscoring her control over the circular nature of fate and the vastness of the empire.

In both cultures, Tyche/Fortuna was more than just a symbol of arbitrary events; she represented the idea that life’s fortunes are beyond human control, yet intimately involved in the everyday workings of both cities and individuals. Her worship indicates a kind of resignation to the unpredictability of life, but also an attempt to appease and gain favour from the forces believed to govern it.

What was the symbolic role of the Heads of Goddess Tyche during the Roman Empire? The Heads of Goddess Tyche, also known as Tyche Heads or City-Goddess Heads, were a common motif in the Roman Empire. These sculptures typically depicted the head of Tyche adorned with various symbols or attributes that represented the city she personified. One of the most distinctive features of these sculptures is the city mural crown, where the city’s walls were depicted as a crown adorning the head of Tyche. This imagery served not only as religious and artistic symbols but also as expressions of civic pride and identity. They reinforced the idea that the fate and prosperity of a city were closely tied to the favour of the gods, particularly Tyche, and they were often placed in prominent locations such as city squares or temples.

Which is my favourite Head of Goddess Tyche? It is a 1^st century AD fine crystalled white marble piece, discovered in Temple E, in ancient Corinth. Some scholars attribute it to Octavia, the sister of Augustus, although modern scholars have offered alternative suggestions.

How can this remarkable Head of Tyche be described? This is the striking portrayal, steeped in symbolism and artistry, of an almost life-sized head of an idealized woman. Wearing a mural crown adorned with a central gate, towers, slit windows and meticulously crafted coursed masonry, the woman’s head emanates a regal aura befitting its divine subject. Her hair, meticulously detailed with two rows of tight curls featuring drilled centers, gracefully frames her oval face from the forehead to the back of her ears, with a single lock before each ear and shorter locks behind the left ear sculpted in low relief. The top of her head exhibits intricate craftsmanship, worked with delicate precision. Her countenance, marked by a broad forehead and a narrow chin, is characterized by sharp brow ridges and upper lids, lightly incised irises, and drilled nostrils, evoking a sense of lifelike realism. The slightly open mouth, revealing a tongue, adds a touch of dynamism to the serene visage. Though the face is worked smoothly, it lacks a polished finish, with faint traces of rasping evident on the neck, underscoring the meticulous yet organic nature of its creation. This remarkable artefact not only offers a glimpse into the artistic mastery of ancient Corinthian craftsmen but also invites contemplation of the cultural and religious significance imbued within its form.

For a Student Activity, please… Check HERE!

Bibliography: https://www.theacropolismuseum.gr/en/noemata-exhibition and https://www.jstor.org/stable/147882  and https://www.jstor.org/stable/40514500?read-now=1&seq=2#page_scan_tab_contents The Goddess Tyche by Susan B. Matheson, Yale University Art Gallery Bulletin, An Obsession with Fortune: Tyche in Greek and Roman Art (1994), pp. 18-33 (16 pages)

In the Cretan Labyrinth built by Daedalus, King Minos walled up the twin form of bull and man, the Minotaur, and twice nourished it on Athenian blood, but the third repetition of the nine-year tribute by lot, caused the monster’s downfall. When, through the help of the virgin princess, Ariadne, by rewinding the thread, Theseus, son of Aegeus, won his way back to the elusive threshold, that no one had previously regained, he immediately set sail for Dia, stealing the daughter of Minos away with him, then cruelly abandoned his companion on that shore. Deserted and weeping bitterly, as she was, Bacchus-Liber brought her help and comfort. So that she might shine among the eternal stars, he took the crown from her forehead and set it in the sky. It soared through the rarefied air, and as it soared its jewels changed to bright fires, and took their place, retaining the appearance of a crown, as the Corona Borealis, between the kneeling Hercules and the head of the serpent that Ophiuchus holds. This is how Ovid presents one of my favourite Greek Myths, that of Theseus, Ariadne, and Dionysus. At Cluny vis-à-vis Ariadne, an early Byzantine ivory relief carving, I am astonished at how powerful her story is through the ages! https://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Latin/Metamorph8.php#anchor_Toc64106496

For thousands of years elephant tusks, the amazing cream-coloured ivory, were used as a carving material by humans to create small scale masterpieces… boxes, manuscript covers, precious fittings for furniture, jewelry, even sculptural pieces. During the Byzantine Empire, Constantinople emerged as a prominent center for ivory carving and became a hub for the production of highly valued and sought-after sophisticated ivory artworks.

Skilled artisans crafted exquisite ivory carvings using techniques such as relief carving and sculpting. These carvings were highly prized for their intricate details, delicate craftsmanship, and symbolic imagery. Ivory carvings from Constantinople showcased a variety of subjects, including religious scenes, mythological figures, portraits of emperors and aristocrats, and decorative motifs.

 At the Cluny Museum, the French Musée National du Moyen Âge in Paris, I sought out the famous Byzantine ivory piece of Ariadne, Maenad, Satyr, and Cupids. Most likely a decorative element of a piece of furniture, this elephant ivory statuette made in Constantinople in the early 6th century was found in a tomb in the Rhine valley, in the region of Trier, along with two lion heads in rock crystal.

The central figure of the composition, Ariadne, stands frontally in a contrapposto position, holding a thyrsus in her right hand and a bowl in her left, and she is crowned with a wreath by two cupids. She is looking majestic, dressed in a high-girt chiton that falls open to expose her right breast. Around her waist hangs a mantle and over her head is a veil. On the right side is a small figure of Pan. On the left, a small female figure, a maenad, wraps one arm around the bottom part of the thyrsus while holding what appears to be two small bells or castanets connected by a cord. It is important to note that the style of the relief, particularly the fine rendering of drapery, the wide-open eyes of the woman, and its classicizing themes points to high-end ivory carving typically found in Constantinople or Alexandria around the beginning of the sixth century AD. https://inpress.lib.uiowa.edu/feminae/DetailsPage.aspx?Feminae_ID=31952 and https://www.metmuseum.org/art/metpublications/Age_of_Spirituality_Late_Antique_and_Early_Christian_Art_Third_to_Seventh_Century pages 148-149

The ivory relief of Ariadne at the Cluny came from a tomb in the region of Trier, in Germany. It was, in most probability, part of the revetment of a luxury throne, that also included the unique rock-crystal lion heads exhibited in the Cluny Museum, and reputed to have been found together. One can only imagine the sumptuousness of the Trier throne! The use of precious materials, ivory, and rock crystal, for such a unique piece of furniture, and the virtuosity of craftmanship, makes it a singular 6th-century AD creation. If we compare it to the throne depicted on the diptych sheet of the consul Areobindus (in the Cluny as well) we can only marvel at the abundance and splendor of the time.

For a Student Activity, please… Check HERE!

I am still dreaming of Paris and the wonderful Exhibitions I saw! Today’s BLOG POST titled Perhaps… a Portrait of Hatshepsut! presents the Head of a Royal Figure of the New Kingdom era, the 18th Dynasty to be specific, that captured my eye and soul. It is exhibited at the Hôtel de la Marine, on the Place de la Concorde, in the heart of Paris, and it is part of the fabulous Al Thani Collection.

The Head of a Royal Figure is a testament to the skill of ancient Egyptian sculptors and their ability to capture the essence and power of their subjects. It is also a valuable artifact that provides insight into the art and culture of the New Kingdom period and the representation of pharaohs during this time.

This wonderful small jasper Royal Head was part of an ancient Egyptian composite statue, a type, that is, of sculpture that combines multiple elements to create a single figure. These statues were typically made of various materials, including stone, wood, and bronze, and were often created to represent gods, pharaohs, and other important figures in Egyptian society. The Al Thani Head of a Pharaoh would have been completed by a faience crown and the bronze beard of the god Osiris.

The Egyptian artist who created this Royal Head Figure used an exceptionally pure red jasper stone. Red Jasper is a variety of chalcedony, which is a mineral in the quartz family. It was a popular material used in ancient Egyptian sculpture, particularly during the New Kingdom period (1550-1070 BC). Often used to create small-scale figurines and amulets, like the Al Thani Royal Head, red jasper was believed to have protective and healing properties. It was also valued for its rich, warm color and smooth texture. Polished to a high sheen ancient Egyptian objects made of red jasper have an enduring beauty and power that continue to inspire people today.

The identity of the Pharaoh represented in the Al Thani Head of a Royal Figure is not absolutely clear. Carved in the 18th Dynasty, a high point of ancient Egyptian civilisation, this head is believed to depict either Queen Hatshepsut or King Thutmosis III. Its perfect state of preservation and outstanding artistic quality have earned this head a privileged place among sculpture of the New Kingdom.https://www.hotel-de-la-marine.paris/en/The-visit/The-visitor-circuits/La-visite/The-Al-Thani-Collection/Elements-Collection-Al-Thani/Repertoire-Highlights-Collection/Head-of-a-Royal-Figure

My personal wish… is that the Al Thani Egyptian Portrait represents Hatshepsut. I am particularly fond of this amazing woman… who ruled as any powerful pharaoh would during the 18th dynasty, accomplished successful military campaigns, finished ambitious building projects, like the funerary Temple at Deir el-Bahri, and undertook daring, explorative campaigns, like the expedition to the land of the Punt. The Al Thani Portrait depicts a Pharaoh with a round face, plump cheeks, large almond-shaped eyes, a straight nose slightly curved at the tip, and full lips. What a Portrait!!!

Representing Hatshepsut or Thutmosis III, the ancient Egyptian Royal Head is part of the fabulous Al Thani Collection. Since November 2021, highlights from The Al Thani Collection have been on public exhibition at a dedicated museum space at the Hôtel de la Marine in Paris. The Collection contains an exceptional array of artworks spanning the ancient world to the present day. Encyclopaedic in its approach, and representing a diverse range of cultures and civilisations, this extraordinary collection celebrates creativity and the universal power of art through the ages. I spent a fulfilling morning, dazzled, once more, by the ‘beauty’ of art! https://www.thealthanicollection.com/

For a Student Activity, inspired by today’s BLOG POST titled Perhaps… a Portrait of Hatshepsut! please… Check HERE!