How did these mistakes happen? I consulted with Greg Brown, a sculptor and an editor at The News Gazette in Champaign-Urbana, Illinois, and he regarded the mistakes as not those that a skilled sculptor would make with the tools at his or her disposal on a sculpture of that scale. For one thing, the parallel striations down the face into the neck are not the kind of marks that would be left by a sculptor using hand tools. We both concurred that these marks have all the characteristics of machining. Further, when a tool that applies force in order to remove material along a specified path is stopped while the force is still being applied, it will continue to remove material in the place where it has stopped. In other words, if a rectangular tool that is energized like a jack hammer and that’s guided along a geometric path on a piece stops moving, the tool will continue jack-hammering away at the material, causing an indentation. Given the mistakes left on the statue at Karnak during the cutting process, possible methods used by the ancient Egyptians are brought out of the shadows and into the light.
We gained a rough estimate of the size of the rectangular depressions by comparing the size of a human face to Ramses at Luxor, overlaying a transparency of the Karnak Ramses over the Luxor Ramses, then measuring the rectangles. The measurement reveals a tool size of approximately 0.30 inch (7.62 millimeters) × 0.180 inch (4.572 millimeters). From a technical perspective, these dimensions are probably optimal for a tool that is performing finish cuts. The surface area that strikes the granite is not large, so fine detailing can be accomplished with such a tool. The tool marks show that the orientation of the tool as it made a pass over the granite provided the widest cut. That the width’s dimension is greater than the height means that the distance between passes can be greater than if a square tool face was used with the same surface area.
Figures 4.5, 4.6, and 4.7 show different views of the statue and the remarkable striations that are evident from the top of the crown to the neck. Inserted in the photographs are magnifications of an area below the ear that show more mistakes made by the manufacturers of this piece. They say that the devil is in the details and these details raise some thorny questions. Branching from the fundamental question of “why?” we can ask: What extra effort went into creating these mistakes? We might conclude that usually, a sculptor who shaped a piece of granite into a human head with a hammer and chisel would expend enough effort to reduce the material to the required shape, and then would have only to polish away the tool marks. There doesn’t appear to be any logical reason for a sculptor to make and leave these marks of superfluous cutting in such a hard material. These are more than a slip of the chisel and may be more the result of an unattended machining process than the work of a proud and highly skilled sculptor.
Figure 4.5. Karnak Ramses’ tool marks beneath the ear from the front
Figure 4.6. Karnak Ramses’ tool marks beneath the ear from the side
Introducing the concept of machines capable of performing this kind of work in ancient Egypt is highly controversial. For many engineers, the product is enough to show that machines had to have been used, but to archaeologists and Egyptologists, the absence of machines in the archaeological record is enough to say that all these works were created by hand. Here, however, I present this information to provide engineers, technical people, and even interested modern sculptors with observations that they may not find in a textbook.
Figure 4.7. Karnak Ramses’ tool marks beneath the side-rear
For those who may not be familiar with how a sculpture of a Ramses’ head would be made today, we can look at plate 11 as an example. This image resulted from a search on the Internet. Anyone with a computer can Google “tool path software” and receive hits for all manner of products that are created with three-dimensional modeling and machining software. This example is reprinted here with the kind permission of Joakim Möller, president of MadCAM Mould and Die CAM Systems, in Romakloster, Sweden. Mr. Möller’s permission was freely given without knowledge or endorsement of the context within which his image was being displayed. It can be viewed at www.madcamcnc.com/Tutorials/4axis%20demo/4-axis%20Tutorial.html.
As we can see in plate 11, the protocol for guiding a tool across a three-dimensional contour has not changed for more than three millennia. This is not surprising if we consider the geometry and precision of the Ramses heads, but this does not mean we can conclude that the ancient Egyptians possessed sophisticated computers and software that could generate code to feed into machines that in turn shaped their environment. Machines moved along exact, mechanically guided axes for many years before the advent of computer software. But as mentioned earlier, creating a Ramses head on one of these earlier machines would have been a significant challenge. Yet the evidence seems to be stacking up in favor of revising what we have been taught about the level of technology possessed by the ancient Egyptians.
Once I had a good idea of the kind of impressions the ancient Egyptians’ tools left on the surface of the granite, I examined other photographs that I had taken to see if the marks showed up on other statues.
Going back to Luxor, we see that a close-up of Ramses’ mouth (figure 4.8) reveals that the irregular, jagged edge along the vermilion border of the upper right lip was created by a series of cuts from a rectangular tool. A closer look at the left lip indicates that though the line is more precise, it is still the result of a rectangular tool being applied in one place before being moved over and reapplied to cut again. This is a very curious feature, because the lips themselves show no sign of “pick” marks, but instead are smoothly contoured surfaces. Only at the upper vermilion border can we see these marks. No doubt where the upper and lower lips meet, the tool used was much smaller. The marks here indicate that a round tool was used to define the junction of the closed lips, with a rough estimate of the size being a diameter of 0.09 inch (2.286 millimeters). The tool probably had a bull nose and the shape of a punch. It appears that this detailing was done by plunging the tool into the granite and then moving it across the profile of the lip the distance of a tool width, and then repeating the process.
Figure 4.8. Close-up of a Luxor Ramses’ mouth
When considered with the mistake made on the mouth of the Ramesseum Ramses (figure 3.10), a strong argument can be made that these details were applied by hand after the head was carved with larger and more efficient tools and methods. A logical sequence of steps would be to cut the geometry of the head using one program or model and a large, more robust tool that would remove material efficiently. Then, with a smaller tool use separate programs or models to cut the mouth, eyes, and ears. A close-up of Ramses’ right eye with magnified inset provides more evidence of the plunge technique used to craft the finer details of the statue (figure 4.9). After these tasks had been completed, a hand tool could have been applied to create a sharper definition at the borders of the facial features—the shape of which had already been defined using mechanical assistance. A more distinct view of a cusp left between paths that the tool followed is seen in figure 4.9. Finding the mouth slightly off center with the jaw line and nose (seen in figure 2.13) is not surprising in this scenario and may be explained by the introduction of another tool and a reorientation of the mechanical axes with the geometry of the head.
Figure 4.9. Close-up of a Luxor Ramses’ eye
Even if we ignore the seeming imprecision of the existence of tool marks on the Ramses’ statues, we cannot ignore the exactness of their geometry. This degree of accuracy proves an important point. To achieve geometric perfection by hand involves an enormous amount of very careful grinding and polishing. Yet there are no scratches on the Ramses head that we would normally associate with grinding and polishing. Moreover, grinding and polishing would show more of the random direction of the artisan’s stroke. It appears, from all the evidence that I have seen in Egypt, that the ancient artisans had achieved the net shape of their final product without leaving behind any areas that we could look at and identify as an area that required a little more polishi
ng than another, which has long been the hallmark of crafting precision products by hand. In modern times, on the other hand, very exact surfaces can be cut on a machine, and tool marks are left to show the path over which the tool traveled. Depending on the requirements of the tool, sometimes the tool marks have to be removed, other times, as in figure 4.3, it is not necessary.
While there are over one hundred known Ramses in Egypt, it is astonishing to learn that Amenophis III, also known as Amenhotep, had more than two hundred fifty statues crafted in his likeness. Once we see the exacting accuracy on one statue, we can only imagine more than two hundred fifty being created. We can imagine a production assembly line, with roughers, finishers, and fine detailers; followed up by an army of craftsmen applying deeply etched hieroglyphs and reliefs. Moreover, the execution of the design across Egypt, from Abu Simbel in the south to Memphis and Alexandria in the north, implies that a standardized system of measure and production-line manufacturing must have existed that would not be out of place in today’s society.
The amount of time it would take to accomplish all of this work in igneous rock is extraordinary. The statues of Egyptian pharaohs were crafted with symmetry—as though each sculpture was a stylized representation of only their most perfect image. Was this a self-image that the pharaohs wished their subjects to see, or was it the result of techniques that the craftsmen developed in their cloistered workshops with tools of which we have yet to gain knowledge? Ramses is not the only pharaoh with perfect symmetry. Amenophis III and most other Egyptian statues are also crafted to an extraordinary symmetry.
The dimensions applied to the outline of the jaw on Amenophis III indicate a precision of plus or minus 0.06 inch (1.52 millimeters), which on a human scale would be 0.01 inch (0.254 millimeter), or half the thickness of a thumbnail. The continuation of the use of ellipses in the design is evident in the face and crown of figure 4.10 as well as in figure 4.11.
Figure 4.10. Amenophis III from the Temple of Mut in Thebes
Figure 4.11. Red granite figure of king from the temple of Karnak with elliptical design
Some of the statues I photographed, though severely damaged, have outstanding features that invite this kind of photographic study. While little attention is given to the ears of a statue because there are more outstanding features to look at, in studying the ears of Egyptian statues, there appears to be a mechanical precision and application of geometry in how they were crafted. A close-up of Ramses’ ears at Luxor and Karnak and on the remains of the shattered bust at the Ramesseum (see figure 4.13) reveals uncommonly sharp inside corners and fine detailing. We cannot help pondering the kinds of tools employed to create these features. Though there is evidence on the Karnak Ramses statue of a rectangular tool driven against the granite (see plate 9), leaving several depressions above the eyebrow, the shape of this tool could not have been responsible for the final finish of the ears.
Left ear of standing statue of Ramses in the Ramses Hall, Luxor
Right ear and left ear of Ramses outside Luxor Temple
Left ear of Amenophis III at Karnak
Figure 4.12. Ramses’ ears with Amenophis III left ear
Figure 4.13. Ramses’ ears at the Ramesseum with Amenophis III’s ear from the temple of Mut
Figure 4.14. Jeanne’s ear
The Ramses at the Ramesseum, especially, reveals inexplicable features that are not found in a normal ear. The insides of the cavum conchae and the cymba conchae come to sharp corners, whereas a normal ear is rounded in the corners. From a manufacturing perspective, if the ear was created using a hammer and stone chisel, these features would require more work to accomplish than would the rounded corner that we see in a human ear. If the feature resulted from a special tool being driven into the granite, then a tool with a small radius with a rake angle would remove the material more efficiently, because there would be less surface area to cut.
From this chapter, along with chapters 1, 2, and 3, the picture that is beginning to emerge is that the ancient artisans were more interested in efficiency than exact replication of the human form. We have studied in detail only the head and crown, but all over these ancient statues we can find examples of mechanical exactness and economical production. Features left out, such as the knuckles, along with standardized design, may suggest an intentional stylization, but they might also have been ways simply to make the already enormously difficult manufacture of a statue slightly less taxing.
Of all the statues I have studied, one shows a most perfect ear, free of damage and dirt: the only ear that Amenophis III has remaining is his right ear (see figure 4.13), which epitomizes in its simplicity of form a perfection on a smaller scale with what the ancient artisans did on a larger scale: applying simple geometry using a minimum number of circles, or radii, to create three-dimensional form.
Without quantifiable measurements, we cannot argue that the geometry and symmetry of ancient Egyptian statues were dimensionally perfect. We can only, as up to now, provide a preliminary study. What has been shown could have the effect of combining imperfections to give the impression of perfect geometry, and the process of overlaying one image with another may produce a “forced” symmetry in which features blend and appear to become one. Nonetheless, there can be no doubt that symmetry was the Egyptians’ objective in creating these statues, and even if they did not achieve perfection, they came much closer than what could be accomplished by visual comparison.
Today, archaeologists employ modern imaging tools to analyze ancient artifacts. In Thebes, archaeologists are reconstructing a colossus of Ramses II that was destroyed by Christians hundreds of years ago. Like a puzzle, hundreds of pieces lay strewn on the ground. Each piece is photographed in three dimensions on a revolving metal caster plate, then the images are analyzed in a computer and reconstructed in virtual space. This technology can record images that are within 40 microns (0.00157 inch) of the surface that is measured, and these will be used to determine the feasibility of reconstructing the colossal statue.4
Replicas of ancient statues have also been made using modern, computer-controlled machinery. The information that is given to the computer to create the shapes is taken from the statues themselves using laser scanning or stereo photographic imaging techniques. The results are then fed into the computer, and paths are generated for tools to follow in the machine. A replica of the bust of Emperor Constantine was created in this manner using Delcam CAD/CAM software generated from the information gleaned from the original bust in Rome.
The next likely step in analyzing the Ramses statues would be to scan their geometry into the computer to create a computer model, then bisect the head and compare one side to the other to accurately determine the variation between the two halves. From what we have studied in chapters 2 and 3, there is good reason to believe that the information gathered will contribute significantly to our understanding of our past. We might find further evidence that the ancient engineers were more like us than we previously thought.
The ancient Egyptian artisans had to have had some means of taking precise measurements. This statement becomes more meaningful when we study artifacts with less complex geometry that can be measured with simple, modern-day instruments in the field. This is where we will go next. From Luxor, we will travel to Cairo, where there is much to be learned in a mysterious underground complex near the Step Pyramid at Saqarra.
5
The Shadows of the Serapeum
Art without engineering is dreaming; engineering without art is calculating.
ANONYMOUS
The difference between men is in their principle of association. Some men classify objects by color and size and other accidents of appearance; others by intrinsic likeness, or by the relation of cause and effect. The progress of the intellect consists in the clearer vision of causes, which overlooks surface differences.
RALPH WALDO EMERSON, ESSAY ON HISTORY
Before I experienced exalted vistas of granite and a rush of wonder in the templ
es in Upper Egypt, I undertook a descent into the shadows of what must be the most confounding and enigmatic archaeological site in the world. While the statues of Luxor and columns of Dendarah provide lift to the mind and spirit, we find a different perspective in the subterranean vaults of a temple located northwest of the step pyramid at Saqqara. There is little above ground to identify these vaults except the hut of an Egyptian tomb guard (also known as a ghaffir) and low walls on both sides of an inclined path that lead to formidable, dungeonlike iron doors. Attached to the iron bars that form a transom light above the yellow painted doors, a sign painted in Arabic and English reads: SERAPEUM DYN XVIII PTOLEMY XII CA.1405–30 BCE.
Figure 5.1. The entrance to the Serapeum
Figure 5.2. Entering the Serapeum
Lost Technologies of Ancient Egypt: Advanced Engineering in the Temples of the Pharaohs Page 11