Professor Butter Beard and “The Standard of Ur”
“You may tell a tale that takes up residence in someone’s soul, becomes their blood and self and purpose. That tale will move them and drive them and who knows what they might do because of it, because of your words. That is your role, your gift.” – Erin Morgenstern, “The Night Circus”
My father taught me to teach with stories. Now I realize, over fifty years later, that I was extremely fortunate to have my father as my high school freshman American history teacher. (Yes, our town was that small!) I learned of the discovery of America through the letters of a ship captain to his wife back home. Dad taught the American Revolution from the perspective of an apprentice buss maker (maker of guns). The American Civil War was experienced through the voice of Timothy O’Sullivan, a war photographer working for Matthew Brady. And our country’s entrance into the Vietnam War was examined through the correspondence of frightened students our age at the time.
We know that storytelling is universal and is as ancient as humankind. “Before there was writing, there was storytelling,” writes Sarah Appleton, writing for the National Geographic Society. “It occurs in every culture and from every age. It exists (and existed) to entertain, to inform, and to promulgate cultural traditions and values.”
And one of the earliest, and most beautiful, example of narrative illustrations can be found on “The Standard of Ur,” created over 4500 years ago.
“The Standard of Ur” is a fascinating rectangular box-like object which, through intricate mosaic scenes, presents the violence and majesty of Sumerian kingship. It is made up of two long flat panels of wood (and two short sides) and is covered with bitumen (a naturally occurring petroleum substance, essentially black tar) in which small pieces of carved shell, red limestone, and lapis lazuli were set. It is thought to be a military standard, something common in battle for thousands of years: a readily visible object held high on a pole in the midst of the combat and paraded in victory to symbolize the army of a war lord or general.
According to written records, in the 1920s, the British archaeologist Sir Leonard Woolley worked extensively at Ur and in 1926 he uncovered a huge cemetery of nearly 2,000 burials spread over an area of 230 x 180 ft. Most graves were modest, however a group of sixteen were identified by Woolley as royal tombs because of their wealthier grave goods and treatment at interment.
Each of these tombs contained a chamber of limestone rubble with a vaulted roof of mud bricks. “The main burial of the tomb was placed in this chamber and surrounded by treasure (offerings of copper, gold, silver and jewelry of lapis lazuli, carnelian, agate, and shell),” writes Professor Senta German of Montclair University. “The main burial was also accompanied by several other bodies in the tomb, a mass grave outside the chamber, often called the Death Pit. We assume that all these individuals were sacrificed at the time of the main burial in a horrific scene of deference.”
The two sides of the Standard appear to be the two poles of Sumerian kingship: war and peace. The “war” story begins within the bottom of three registers, with war carts, each with a spearman and driver, drawn by donkeys trampling fallen enemies, distinguished by their nudity and wounds, which drip with blood. The middle register shows a group of soldiers wearing fur cloaks and carrying spears walking to the right while bound, naked enemies are executed and paraded to the top band where more are killed. In the center of the top register, we find the king, holding a long spear, physically larger than everyone else (hieratic scale), so much so, his head breaks the frame of the scene.
The opposite “peace” panel also illustrates a cumulative moment, that of the celebration of the king, this time for great agricultural abundance which is “the prize” of peace. Again, beginning within the bottom register, we see men carrying produce on their shoulders and in bags and leading donkeys. In the center register, men lead bulls, sheep and goats, and carry fish. In the top register a grand feast is taking place, complete with comfortable seating and musical accompaniment by the cutest little lyrist and singer ever!
I am currently gleefully witnessing that today, storytelling and interest in storytelling appear to be making a comeback. I agree with Patrick Rothfuss who writes, “It’s like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. We build ourselves out of that story.”
All this storytelling prompted me in the kitchen this morning to narrate the adventures of a couple ripe brave pears, who chose to warm themselves in a toasted almond frangipane custard floating on a thin stream of raspberry jam – all witnessed within one sweet tart crust register. All they need is a cute little lyrist serenading them with an ancient lullaby.
Nels – that’s your job!
Professor Butter Beard’s Pear Frangipane Tart
One Rectangular Tart
Tart Dough:
1 cup all-purpose flour
4 Tbsp almond flour
1 Tbsp granulated sugar
½ tsp fine sea salt
6 Tbsp unsalted butter, chilled and cut into ½” cubes
1 large egg
2-3 Tbsp ice water
Frangipane:
6 Tbsp almond flour, lightly toasted
2 large eggs
4 Tbsp granulated sugar
1 tsp vanilla paste
4 Tbsp liquor of choice – rum, hard cider, whiskey or bourbon
¼ cup of your favorite jam
3 ripe pears
Sliced almonds and granulated sugar to finish before baking
1) For the crust: In a food processor, whirl together the flour, almond flour, sugar and salt. Add the butter cubes and pulse four times to cut into the dry. Add the egg and 2 Tbsp ice water and pulse until the dough just comes together (add another Tbsp of water, if required). Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and chill at least one hour.
2) For the frangipane: Lightly toast the 6 Tbsp almond flour and set aside to cool. Again in the food processor, whirl together the eggs, sugar, vanilla and alcohol. Add the cooled almond flour, whirl to distribute and let sit while you roll out the dough (hydrating the almond flour).
3) Roll the chilled tart dough to 1/8” and gently fit into the tart pan. Pop the shell in the freezer while you core and slice the pears into 8 long pieces each.
4) Preheat your oven to 375 degrees.
5) Remove the tart shell from the freezer and spread the ¼ cup of jam evenly on the bottom. Pulse the frangipane one last time in the food processor and then pour over the jam layer. Place the pears slices over the frangipane and then sprinkle the top with sliced almonds and granulated sugar.
6) Place the tart in the oven, reduce the heat to 350 degrees and bake for 40-45 minutes until the top is golden and you see a few bubbles emerging from the baked pears.
7) Let the tart cool, in the tart pan, on a wire rack, to room temperature before removing it from the pan.
