Rose with theatre, 15 April 2020

Radiant light all day, with no clouds but a slight smoke haze where someone is burning off.

The quietness of the suburb is like childhood when there were fewer cars and you heard the voices of neighbours walking up and down the road, and children calling. And dogs barking in a sudden cacophony. Flowers are often a memento mori, a reminder of things passing. The little Greek theatre speaks for all the anonymous vanished people who once thronged the theatres for the great festivals. Although they may have had to sit high up, a long way from the action in the orchestra, the forgotten ordinary people were integral to life in theatre and town.

Here are some of the lost occupations of people who came to the theatre, occupations gleaned from inscriptions.  There were wool-workers, seamstresses, weavers and spinning girls, as well as sesame-seed sellers, grocers and salt vendors, horse-tenders, perfume-vendors, musicians, honey and frankinsense sellers, and gilders of helmets. Also represented were concubines, procuresses, wet nurses, harp and lyre players. The garland-weavers were in constant demand for fresh garlands every morning using different flowers for different occasions.

When our country gets back to normal, perhaps all the usual occupations will have changed. Perhaps we will once more need garland-weavers in a slower world. 

Diana Wood Conroy, 'Rose with theatre', watercolour on Canzon paper 15 x 21 cm, 15 April 2020