This ancient lamp might have burned in the Holy
Land during the Roman occupation. While the
open, terracotta oil lamp was ubiquitous
throughout Israel in pre-Exilic times, the lamp of
open-bowl design had given way to more
elaborate, enclosed lamps of the Hellenistic and
Roman periods. The current one bears the marks
of Roman influence in its closed, tear-drop
shape, and such a design was well-attested in
Roman North Africa and Israel. Made of terra
cotta, this simple item would have held olive oil
and probably a wick of plant fibers or textile,
allowing it to provide light for a few hours
perhaps. The small hole, just off-center, was for
refilling the cavity with fuel, while the larger hole
at the tip was for placement of the wick. Often,
the central panel on the lamp’s face would have
borne some kind of artistic depiction taken from
popular culture. A raised, circular item within the
central depression of the current lamp, now
faded, may have once represented the face of a
deity or a mythological figure.
A metaphor for joy and prosperity, for hope, for
life itself, lamps have illuminated the path of
civilization for centuries. They have shed light on
mundane and extraordinary events alike, guiding
great thoughts through the night, and standing
vigil with lonely passions. In the presence of this
simple object, we are in touch directly with a
vanished world, with the rooms and shrines once
warmed by its glow, with the people who drew
comfort from its light. Today it remains as an
enduring symbol of man's desire to conquer the
darkness.
- (SP.368)
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