The little vessel in front of you is an aryballos, an oil container of the sort ancient Greek athletes used. You may recall the aryballos the young man on a gravestone was holding in the gallery with the kouros across the hall. This piece shows how complicated the aryballos shape is, and how beautifully suited to its function. The flared lip around the mouth of the vessel is a practical feature. The athlete who used it could shake oil out onto this lip and then apply it to his body with his fingers.

The making of this or any Greek painted vase was a two-step process. First, a potter shaped the vessel of clay. Second, a painter decorated the surface, and then the pot was fired in a kiln. Sometimes two different craftsmen performed these tasks and both signed the finished product. There also were artists who handled both potting and painting; the maker of this aryballos was probably such an artist. On the flat panel of the handle, he has signed his work Nearchos epoiesen me—Nearchos made me.

The painted decoration complements the shape to the greatest advantage. The horizontal band around the lip shows pygmies fighting cranes—an exotic subject set on the edges of the known world. On the panel on the side of the handle, you see one large figure, the hero Perseus wearing winged shoes. Move around to the side and find the broad flat panel at the back of the handle. Here are three satyrs, creatures of intoxication and arousal that represent some of the baser tendencies in human behavior. The pattern of crescents facing one way on the body of the aryballos and the other way on the shoulder makes the whole vessel seem to spin.