A special case would be that of small containers—jug and juglets—and the decorated jars (figure 22.3b and c). Some of those containers could represent the “consumption” demand; however, their potential use as containers of sealable products, at least for some of them, should not be ruled out. This may lead to a different level of analysis—namely, how these socially appealing containers of diverse products were distributed. For instance, we have jars for scented oils and edibles such as oil, spices, and honey, representing activities that have been recognized, for example, in the Levant (Namdar et al. 2013) and the Aegean (Bourogiannis 2013). There are also decorated storage jars (figure 22.3b and e) that are variations on actual storage jars (figure 22.3a), but that have painted decoration or in relief, or special treatment of the surface (for example, the presence of red slip). Depending on their origin, these may also include certain morphological modifications that affect the ceramic’s size (generally smaller), proportions, and shape (shoulders, bodies, necks, rims, and handles), as well as type of base (most times stable). From a functional point of view, it is not clear whether these jars were acquired empty, as members of a domestic ceramic set, or were filled with a product such as oil, wine, or something edible, either raw or transformed. In any case, these examples are not only linked to retail sale but also to wholesale, providing appropriate containers that meet technical, morphological, functional, and even social requirements.
Figure 22.3 Phoenician storage jars.
Source: (a) Al-Bass Tomb TT237, unpublished; (b) Bikai 1978: 584, pl. XXI; (c) Aubet et al. 2014: 193, fig. 2.24, U.93-1.
In review, we see that the planning, scale, and seasonality of pottery production to meet this “industrial” demand depended on estimations of the future intensity and scale of economic activity of those sectors, involving either primary or secondary goods and ultimately their retail demand.
Production
Pottery production was one of the many sectors of the Phoenician economic system in general and its craftsmanship activities in particular. Hence, the question is whether this was a strategic sector, one that required direct control on the part of institutions in deciding which items had to be produced, how much had to be produced, and how they were to be produced, or, rather, whether it was an autonomous activity that depended basically on demand.
The Phoenician Potter
Pottery making apparently received less societal consideration in Phoenician culture than other artisanal occupations (Heltzer 1990). No written sources remark on the presence of potters, called YṢR in Phoenician (Krahmalkov 2000: 214), their skill, or the quality of their productions; they probably did not enjoy the status of artisans working with other materials such as metals, stone, wood, and ivory.
Several questions can be raised: Were Phoenician potters full- or part-time workers? Were they attached to an institution or were they independent? All facts considered, there is no reason to exclude the coexistence of these two possibilities, or even of their combination in some instances. On the one hand, city institutions and high-status entrepreneurs may have had arrangements with potters who worked exclusively for them. Alternatively, potters may have worked on their own behalf, either adapting their products to meet the needs and demands of their society or filling needs upon request, as suggested by the more than probable existence of guilds in the Phoenician cities (Lipiński 1992: 120–21; see also Botto and Oggiano 2003; Payne 2013). The idea of profit is evident at least in Ugaritic texts, where we find lists of prices of vessels—usually rather low in comparison with the prices of metallic ones (Heltzer 1978: 31, 50–51, 79–83)—as well as in the short hexametric poem known as the “Kiln” or “Potters” (Epigram XIV), traditionally (but probably wrongly) attributed to Hesiod or Homer in antiquity, which mentions vessels that had to be sold at market for a good price.
One may consider also whether this activity represented the potter’s main income, thereby evidencing a dedication throughout the year, or if the potter depended on factors such as seasonal weather conditions (Hankey 1965) or economic cycles. We learn from ancient Mesopotamian and Middle Assyrian texts that potters were allotted lands by the institutions they depended upon (Sallaberger 1996: 23–25; Duistermaat 2007: 140). Therefore, it is possible that Phoenician potters needed a complementary economic activity in order to ensure their steady sustenance, generally related to agriculture and especially in those months when ceramic production was not possible. This might be the case, for instance, during rainy seasons, when clays might have taken longer to be sorted and levigated, vessels could not shrink properly, and there would be problems with firing, as kilns were outdoors and open on top. There could also be problems in coordinating the pottery production with other economic activities and cycles.
Another interesting aspect is the potters’ internal operation (Duistermaat 2007: 138–41). It can be assumed that the business structure did not differ much from how artisans operate nowadays in many parts of the Mediterranean—that is, as a family-based activity that passes from generation to generation. The master potter was the central figure, most times the head of the family. This person was the chief of the workshop, maybe in some instances also its owner, and was responsible for its organization, production planning, and performance of tasks. The master was further attended by others, normally close relatives, among which would be his future substitute, likely the oldest son. Finally, assistants and apprentices—many times also members of the family—were at the bottom of the hierarchy, which likely included women, especially in family-led workshops.
Production Planning
The main aim of production, whatever its nature, is to be as efficient as possible in terms of both meeting the demand and effectively managing the workshop’s resources (planning, skills, resources).
Potters, independent or not, were ultimately responsible for production (Duistermaat 2017). They had to accommodate at least eight determining factors: (1) origin of the demand, either “consumption” or “industrial,” and its requirements; (2) number of forms and types required and their quality; (3) scale of production—that is, the number of objects to be made; (4) seasonality, involving time of year and economic cycles; (5) procurement of raw materials; (6) capacity and capability of meeting demand; (7) effective use of resources, including number of workshops, persons employed, and time management; (8) pursuit of profit.
In the “consumption” sector, it is difficult to calculate the scale and rhythm of production. That depended on the size of the market—whether local, regional, or interregional; urban, rural, or institutional—and the number and character of other workshops in the region. Also relevant would be the social adscription of consumers, which specific forms or types of product were demanded, and how to avoid losses. The idea of seasonality should be ruled out in this context, at least on the part of the demand itself.
More evident is the nature of “industrial” demand. It largely depends on economic cycles, especially those of agriculture (harvest, storage, and transformation activities, and in particular the production of wine and oil) and the fisheries. In this sense, the production planning did not depend exclusively on the origin of the demand—for instance, institutions or private entrepreneurs—but also on the volume of the harvest or size of the product being commercialized. This aspect is illustrated, for example, by the large number of storage jars found in the Elyssa and Tanit shipwrecks (Ballard et al. 2002); the number and variety of jars filled with different products, found in situ in the fortress of Hurvat Rosh Zayit, in North Palestine (Alexandre 1995); and the accounts registered in the Ugaritic texts, in which jars are mentioned sometimes in the hundreds (Heltzer 1978: 17–18, 154).
It has been mentioned earlier that demands by institutions represent a special case, as these involve both the “consumption” and the “industrial” sectors. For example, the palace and the temple had particular necessities connected with their activities (ceremonies, representations, banquets, etc.), which sometimes involved functional, morpho
logical, decorative, and technical needs in common with those of the noninstitutional sector. Those same institutions also performed certain activities that demanded ceramics, especially containers; one such example, originated in a different cultural context, could be the “l-mlk amphorae” from South Levant (Ussishkin 2012). Interesting in this regard are also the temples and sanctuaries, with demand for ceramics used as offerings or in funerary rituals. Therefore, it is as possible that workshops belonging to the temples and sanctuaries provided the necessary ceramic products, while other, nondependent centers oriented their production to satisfy the demand of other institutions, regardless of their scale, such as city government or even empire.
The Ceramic Workshops
Five basic elements are needed to produce and sell pottery: clay, temper, water, fuel, and an outlet for the products. In this sense, anthropological studies indicate that workshops were located no farther than 10 km from their clay sources, although certain alternative supply channels cannot be ruled out. At the same time, those workshops need to be well connected to their distribution centers (Beetles 2003: 129). As a consequence, ceramic production is bound to its environment in the general sense of the word, as well as being conditioned and characterized by the elements existing in that environment that affect the number, size, and degree of workshop specialization.
Remains of Phoenician workshops have been identified, for example, in Tell er-Rachidiyeh, where an ancient kiln was used as a tomb in the ninth and eighth centuries bce (Doumet-Serhal 1982), and hints of pottery production were detected in Tyre (Bikai 1978: 13). However, none can be compared to the workshops found in Sarepta (Anderson 1987, 1989). This latter production center was located on the fringes of the original settlement and consisted of fifteen superimposed, permanent compounds that functioned continuously from the beginning of the Late Bronze II Age to the Persian period. This long-lasting “industrial quarter” apparently comprised several independent workshops identified by Anderson as a “commercially viable workshop industry,” and the area offers over time had similar basic features common to contemporary traditional potteries (Anderson 1987: 49). These features include the coherent organization of space in areas for processing of clay, with decantation basins, rests of levigated clay, and mortars and pestles used to grind the temper, as well as basins used during modeling tasks, fast wheels, drying rooms, kilns, and storage space.
All these features are well represented in its room 72, during four successive phases that span the entire Iron Age (figure 22.4). Especially remarkable are the kilns (Anderson 1987: 42–43), usually bilobate in plan and divided into two parts: the lower combustion chamber and the upper loading chamber. In this sense, western Mediterranean workshops (Ramón et al. 2007), as well as contemporary installations, had an interesting feature (based on personal observation of a traditional workshop at Bourjein, Lebanon): sometimes two kilns appeared together, one bigger for firing large and medium vessels, and a smaller for more delicate products, such as cups and jugs. This feature is probably attested also at Sarepta, in Area X, II (Khalifeh 1988: 362, pl. 8, kilns E and F), and probably also in kilns J and R of room 72, originally ascribed, respectively, to the phases 2 and 3 of the workshop (cf. figure 6.1, a photo of Phoenician kiln from Iberia, chapter 6, this volume).
Figure 22.4 Sarepta pottery workshop.
Source:: After Anderson 1987: fig. 7.
Therefore, it can be surmised from the nature of these facilities that the production of pottery in Phoenician cities was an activity performed for a long time, was technically efficient and well planned, and was adapted to the requirements of production (scale, intensity, quality, and quantity). Viewed in this light, evidence of domestic production—that is, of lower technical and morphological quality—is negligible as yet.
Technical Aspects of the Ceramic Products
There can be little doubt about the technical skill of Phoenician potters, matched only by the high performance capability of their installations. These potters used traditional means and skills, which called for appropriate clay mixtures, morphological attributes, surface treatments, finishing, and firing. This “way to do things” represents the outcome of a dynamic tradition that, as the workshops at Sarepta clearly show, was firmly rooted in the area, going as far back in time as the Canaanite Middle Bronze Age (Núñez 2014: 66–69).
The ceramic repertoire displays a strong standardization in its features over time, which is evidence of a high degree of professionalism and effective organization of production. This is confirmed by two facts. First, there is the existence of motor habit patterns in the fabrication of the pottery (Arnold 2003), among which is the presence of an actual chaîne opératoire (Roux 2016). This is evident in the selection of clay mixtures, use of the fast wheel, assemblage of vessels from previously modeled parts—mostly bases, bodies, and necks—and use of molds, especially in carinated vessels.
Second, there is the existence of a rather limited array of morphological and decorative features, which were combined in different ways depending on the intended form. Some forms and types were more susceptible to morphological modifications than others (compare, for example, the dynamism of the neck-ridge jugs with the conservatism of the amphoroid craters), a variability always framed by local parameters. Besides, decoration patterns usually were adapted to the morphology of the vessel and consisted of lineal patterns whose nature and location varied from type to type and from one sequential stage to the next (see chapter 30, this volume). All these factors, finally, led to the existence of a repertoire that was effective in the management and use of the available resources, was easily recognizable, and was efficient for the purposes behind their creation.
It is important to understand the logic of the Phoenician ceramic repertoire, whose evolution was logical and internally coherent, as well as predictable in its behavior. Five basic features characterized all its members: functionality, conservativism, dynamism, linearity, and accumulativeness. Hence, Phoenician wares are noted for their functional character and their endorsement of traditional parameters, which nevertheless do not avoid “changes”—not “breaks”—based on previous sequential stages. Besides, certain traits repeat themselves continuously; for instance, the clays and their preparation provide evidence that fabric quality was linked directly to the typological nature of the vessel (better in fine tablewares or transport containers, and less so in everyday vessels). Fabric quality, in turn, is based on the degree of homogeneity of the matrix and the number and size of the “inclusions” (i.e., particles that appear in the fabrics, also called “temper,” either introduced by the potter or appearing naturally in the clay). According to this quality, there are two basic types of fabrics: fine and common. And both of these are complemented by a third, intermediate fabric, that stands halfway between them. In fact, the same fabric could be used to produce different vessel types. Thus, fabric quality can vary among storage jars, amphoroid kraters, decorated jars, cauldrons, and most plates and bowls not inspired by metallic prototypes, as well as basins, mortars, lamps, dippers, and pilgrim-flasks (all produced in common or intermediate fabric). In contrast, tablewares, in particular the wine set, generally display better fabrics, elaboration, and finish.
This specific degree of care in the elaboration of ceramic vessels is often associated with different wares composing the Phoenician ceramic repertoire: plain (in the literature known as self-slip or wet-smoothed), red slip, and, less commonly, washed (Anderson 1988: 315–63). Hence, the surfaces of domestic wares often displayed decorative features copying the metallic wares: grooves, carinations or attached features imitating rivets or tubular handles. These vessels were either left plain or were covered to a variable extent by a red slip. The latter is common among those types related to the wine set (figure 22.2), as its plastic appearance imitates, especially when it has been burnished, the homogeneous surface of metallic wares. Some other times, tableware—especially decanters and less often plates and bowls—can display a clay wash of a y
ellowish to light brown. This nonplastic covering can appear alone or combined with a red slip or painted decoration, and it is rarely burnished.
Painted decoration represents two different concepts. The first appears on most containers and is connected to plain and washed surfaces. It consists of combinations of bands and fillets—in red, black, or both—forming lineal patterns that vary from horizontal to concentric depending on the recipient and the sequential stage. Figurative representations are not common, with the exception of several geometric (lozenges, stars) and vegetal motifs, both typical in Early and Middle Iron Age productions. Besides, and also in the same stages, horizontal patterns are sometimes combined with triglyphs on the shoulder; in other instances, fillets can appear on a whitish background. The second decorative concept is simpler. It consists of highlighting with paint the limits of diverse parts of the vessel rims: lips, handles, shoulders, bases, or base of the neck. Its presence is common among metallic-inspired ceramic types—sometimes even substitute decorative grooves—and is connected especially to burnished surfaces either covered by a red slip or not.
Three further questions are the sporadic introduction of elements from other repertoires, how their incorporation in the Phoenician repertoire took place, and the reasons that could explain that introduction. Obviously, the answer to these questions is that there were new functional or social requirements that could not be fulfilled by local ceramic resources. To meet those requirements, the solution was to take them from other repertoires, but to quickly adapt them to the Phoenician “ceramic grammar” (e.g., spouted jugs; Núñez 2015b).
The Oxford Handbook of the Phoenician and Punic Mediterranean Page 49