It was previously believed that altarpieces from the late Middle Ages were made in Germany. New research shows that several of them were made in Norway.

“The altarpieces were the most elevated elements in a church,” says Kristin Kausland. The inside of the case usually contains carved sculptures, while the inside of the doors can also have such sculptures or paintings. This altarpiece is from Kvæfjord church [Credit: Museum of Cultural History]

Altarpieces from the Middle Ages are a feature of many churches along the coast of Norway. They are often called Lübeck altarpieces, because it was assumed that the altarpieces were imported to Norway by the Hanseatics from Lübeck. Kristin Kausland's research shows that the ecclesiastical art is more Norwegian than previously thought. Major parts of the altarpieces were made in Norway, new analyses show.

Kausland is a postdoctoral fellow with the Department of Archaeology, Conservation and History and the first person to earn a Ph.D. in conservation at a Norwegian university. While working on her doctoral thesis, she studied more than 60 altarpieces, most of them in Norway and Germany, but also several in Sweden and Denmark. Some of the altarpieces are in museums, others in churches along the Norwegian coast.

Searching for hidden clues

The researcher used advanced technical equipment to reveal the origins of the altarpieces. Using an infrared camera, UV camera and electron microscope, she searched for hidden clues.

"Through analyses of even the tiniest paint fragment I have sought to trace the physical prints of the craftsmen and the various production environments under which the objects were created. Call it, if you will, the craftsmen's fingerprints," says Kausland.

Revealing gold paint

Because there is no written documentation on the origins of the altarpieces the physical clues are important. Gilding, type of wood, hinges and type of paint are some of the elements that can reveal where an altarpiece was made.

"In Germany, the craftsmen were organised in guilds. There were strict rules for what was allowed. For example, there were several places where the use of materials other than real gold was not permitted. At that time, churches were very dark. The idea was that these altarpieces should radiate toward you, creating the impression of something holy. They were supposed to shine, and give light," she explains.

The altarpieces that Kausland believes were made in Norway used imitation gold instead of real gold. In the Norwegian altarpieces, several types of oak were also used. This set them apart from the Northern German altarpieces, which were made of Baltic oak.

"In Norway, it appears that people used whatever was the most accessible. Nor were there any established forms of constructional design. It was a somewhat more pragmatic and practical approach, where the craftsmen were probably not governed by guild statutes. Among other things, you could mix different grades of oak," Kausland says.

The way the altarpieces were constructed could also vary from country to country.

In the Netherlands, a particular type of hinge and design were used, whereas in Germany the altarpieces were assembled in a different way. This was regulated by the traditions of the guild association of the casemakers, she says.

Unique findings from the Netherlands

Kausland believes that around ten of the 60 altarpiece she has studied were made in the Netherlands. This is a sensational discovery because almost all the altarpieces in the Netherlands were lost during the Reformation.

This altarpiece from Austevoll Church is one of the pieces that Kausland believes was made in the Netherlands. What  indicates that the piece was made in northern Netherlands are the techniques used in its construction, gilding, sculptures, as well as in the paintings [Credit: Svein Skare, Bergen Historiske museum, Universitetet i Bergen]

During the Reformation in the Netherlands the decision was made to destroy all of the decorations in the churches. The altarpieces were demolished. The fact that several such altarpieces are located in Norway is therefore of great international importance, she says.

One of these altarpieces is located in Trondenes Church. Another is from Austevoll, and is at Bergen Museum. There is a high probability that there are more Dutch altarpieces in Norway, Kausland believes.

This opens up the possibility that many other altarpieces whose origins have been unknown, probably also came from the Netherlands. This is very important and interesting, as there are almost no such altarpieces in the rest of Europe.

A plan to exhibit one of the altarpieces in the Netherlands is in the works.

At least one of the altarpieces will be sent to an exhibition in the Netherlands in the near future so that it can be shown to a Dutch audience.

Hidden treasures

For Kausland, the work on her doctorate has been a pure treasure hunt. Many of the altarpieces are located in small churches in fishing villages along the coast.

The altarpieces are hidden treasures. At first glance they may be a little dark, but when you look past the layers of grime, and down to the original expression, you see that they are quite impressive. These are beautiful objects, which have been considered rather inferior art, and not part of Norwegian history. But they are an important part of Norwegian cultural heritage, and of fairly high quality, she notes.

An altarpiece consists of several components. The inside of the case usually contains carved sculptures, while the inside of the doors can also have such sculptures or paintings. An altarpiece is therefore the creation of several craftsmen, Kausland explains:

Five different craftsmen were required. Painters, woodcarvers, casemakers, ironsmiths and so-called preparers were involved. The latter prepared and laid the foundation for the painting carried out by painters.

Not an extinct tradition

The anonymous craftsmen interest her.

We often look at fine art and forget all the other work that went into it. We concentrate on the paintings and sculptures, but forget that someone made the actual case. The "rough work", that which is not elevated art, is easily forgotten. I am interested in the anonymous craftsmen who have put their souls into an altarpiece and have tried to answer questions about origins, and how these craftsmen collaborated.

In the past, it was believed that these Norwegian craft traditions died out during the Black Death. Kristin Kausland's research shows that the traditions continued to live on.

It is also likely that there was a great deal of collaboration across national borders, by which the construction of the case was done in Bergen, while the finer wood carving art was done down on the continent, she explains.

The research continues

Before Christmas last year, Kausland was awarded a mobility grant from the Research Council of Norway. She is now working on a three-year post-doctoral project that will build on her Ph.D. research. She will work at the Hamilton Kerr Institute at the University of Cambridge for the first two years of the post-doctoral period. The postdoctoral project includes fieldwork in Germany, Denmark, Sweden and the Netherlands, where several altarpieces will be put under the researcher's magnifying glass.

The doctorate opened up many exciting approaches. Ecclesiastical art serves as silent witnesses of the organisation of workshops, trade and collaboration. It is after all not the geographical origin that is ultimately the essence of this art, but the Catholic universe that it represents. This will be the main theme of the post-doctoral project, says Kausland.

Author: Toril Haugen | Source: University of Oslo [March 09, 2018]

Not too many people are able to identify birds by examining a single feather. But a number of folks need to know that sort of thing, and it can actually save lives.

Feathers from the Eurasian eagle-owl (Bubo bubo) aren't exactly what we fill most of our pillows with now [Credit: Einar Kongshaug]

Your pillows – if they're not synthetic – are almost certainly filled with domestic goose or duck feathers. These are the most common types of fill used for this purpose today. But our ancestors weren't always as discerning.

"Eagle-owls," says Jørgen Rosvold, a postdoctoral fellow in the Department of Archaeology and Cultural History at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology (NTNU) University Museum.

Rosvold is among a handful of individuals in Norway who can identify birds based solely on their feathers. He examined a pillow from a Viking grave and found feathers from Europe's largest owl in it, along with feather residues from a variety of other species.

"This shows that the Vikings valued feathers as an important resource," Rosvold says.

Sometimes all you can say for sure is that a feather came from a duck, but not what kind of duck. (These are mallards, though.) [Credit: Einar Kongshaug]

Rosvold is part of an NTNU down project (Dunprosjektet), where one of the goals is to develop methods to identify small bits of feather residue. It's not always easy to tell what species a feather comes from, especially if only small fragments of feathers remain.

"Sometimes all you can say for sure is that a feather comes from a duck," says Rosvold.

But not always what kind of duck. Some feathers are just too similar to be certain what species it comes from. You might be able to say whether a feather comes from a game bird or a sparrow, but not always much beyond that.

"It depends on how well preserved the feather is, the kind of feather and whether the species has close relatives," he says.

Large collection helpful

Rosvold can identify some feathers down to the specific species. The NTNU University Museum has a large collection, and if he's able to first determine which family the bird belongs to, he can compare it with specimens from the collection.

Miniscule barbules, the smallest branches of a feather, are examined under a microscope to identify the kind of bird. Here are two different birds. At bottom left is a rock ptarmigan, a type of game bird with rings around its barbules. At bottom right is a mallard with triangular growths at the ends of its barbules [Credit: Jørgen Rosvold, NTNU University Museum]

As a rule, the underneath, most downy parts of feathers have distinctive features that make it possible to identify the former owner. The smallest branches of a feather, called barbules, are the most useful. Their shape and distribution of different growths, tiny irregularities and the colour can provide clues.

"You can see the pigmentation really well, even after a long time," says Rosvold.For example, you can see pigmentation in feathers from early Viking times, around 800 CE. Game birds are recognizable by the rings around their barbules. Duck feathers have distinctive triangular growths.

"In some cases, if we're unable to identify a feather beyond the family level with microscopes, we can make more headway using DNA analyses. The analyses are easier when we've narrowed down the range of possible birds," says Rosvold.

But this is clearly an art for specialists. Conservator Leena Aulikki Airola at the NTNU University Museum is skilled at detecting the impression of feathers in metal, among other things. This can happen when a sword is laid on a feather pillow in a Viking grave, for example. Over the years, the sword corrodes and the feathers in the pillow become covered with the rusty metal.

Cooperation between birds and people

As part of the project, researchers are studying Swedish and Norwegian grave discoveries from the Nordic Iron Age, including the Oseberg grave, to find out which birds the feathers come from.

A well-preserved feather fragment found in a grave from the Viking era, about one centimetre long. Even after many hundreds of years you can see the colours and that this is a feather from a crow [Credit: Jørgen Rosvold, NTNU University Museum]

One of the main goals for the down project is to find out when people established eider farming on the Helgeland coast and in central Norway. These are areas along the coast where people provide nesting shelters for eider ducks to return to year after year.

Eider farmers build nesting boxes and protect the ducks, which in turn leave large amounts of down behind. But we don't yet know how long this cooperation between birds and people has existed.

"The cooperation goes way back in time. We've found a few eider feathers, but also a lot of assorted feathers," says Rosvold.

For a long time people simply took what they had available to stuff their pillows.The researchers have found feather samples that date as far back as the late Germanic Iron (or Merovingian) Age, from around 570 and through the Viking era. No earlier use of feathers in Norway has been discovered, but that doesn't mean that it didn't take place. The Romans used a lot of feathers in their pillows, for example.

Useful for others, too

Archaeologists and biologists aren't the only ones who may be interested in these results. Identifying birds by their feathers may be important in other fields as well.

Feather residues in corroded iron from a Viking sword. Perhaps the sword was laid on a pillow? [Credit: Jørgen Rosvold, NTNU University Museum]

Any of us might be curious to find out just what kind of feather we found on our woods walk the other day.

Biologists find it useful to identify feathers from scat and pellets, which are undigested parts of food that are regurgitated by birds, to determine what they've been eating. Feathers from bird houses can tell us who lived there.

But knowing your feathers can also potentially solve crimes or save lives, such as for investigators who need to collect evidence. One specialist in the United States works primarily with feathers from birds that have collided with airplanes. Finding out what kind of bird crashed into the plane might enable you to take action to reduce the risks.Those microscopic details could end up being really important.

Source: Norwegian University of Science and Technology [February 27, 2018]

Methane hydrates, also known as 'burning ice', occur at all ocean margins. The compound of gas and water occurs in the seafloor and it is only stable under relatively high pressures and low temperatures. If the pressure is too low or the temperature too high, the hydrates dissociate (break down), the methane is released and the gas can seep from the seafloor into the ocean. Thus, scientists fear that warming of global water temperatures could destabilize gas hydrates on a large scale. At the same time, it has not been fully understood which other factors influence the stability of gas hydrates.

Bathymetric map of the Nyegga region off the coast of Central Norway [Credit: Jens Karstens/GEOMAR]

A team of researchers from the GEOMAR Helmholtz Centre for Ocean Research Kiel together with colleagues from Bergen, Oslo and Tromso (Norway), have now discovered that large-scale sedimentation caused by melting of glaciers in a region off Norway has played a greater role in gas hydrate dissociation than warming ocean waters.

For their study, the team had investigated the history of gas hydrates in the Nyegga area. "This region off middle Norway is quite interesting if you want to study the dynamics of gases and liquids in the seafloor. There are large gas hydrate deposits, and many crater-like structures, so-called 'pockmarks', on the seabed. They are generally associated with gas leaks from deeper gas reservoirs, but their exact origin in this area is still unclear."

Map of the Northern Atlantic Ocean with the largest extent of the northern ice shield during the last ice age [Credit: Jens Karstens/GEOMAR]

Numerous bathymetric maps, sediment cores and seismic surveys already exist in the Nyegga area, which the researchers used as a basis for the new study. "So we knew that in the final period of the recent Ice Age, between 30,000 and 15,000 years ago, large amounts of sediment were deposited in the region in a relatively short period of time," explains Dr. Karstens. In a computer model, the team used the available data to simulate the evolution of the seabed and the response of the gas hydrates during this period.

Despite the rising sea level and therefore increasing pressure, the simulation showed that towards the end of the ice age large amounts of gas hydrate became unstable and the released gas escaped through the sediment to the seawater. "Gas hydrates are only stable at a certain depth below the actual seafloor. When dozens of meters of new sediment settle on the seafloor, the solid compounds dissociate at the base of the hydrate stability zone, while new hydrates can form at the upper end of the stability zone. However, if the seafloor is already saturated with gas and the process takes place very quickly, the released gases make their way to the seafloor, without forming new hydrates," says Dr. Karstens.

Structure of gas hydrate [Credit: J. Greinert/GEOMAR]

The numerical simulations of the seafloor also showed that the pockmarks in Nyegga are likely associated with this phenomenon because they are located right in the area of the largest gas hydrate dissociation event at the end of the Ice Age. Samples from the seafloor confirm this assumption. Mussel shells of the species Isorropodon nyeggaensis were found in the pockmarks. The species is known from its symbiosis with bacteria that feed on methane. The researchers were able to date the shells precisely to the time when, according to the model calculations, the largest gas hydrate dissociation event occurred.

"We show that rapid changes in sedimentation can have a pronounced impact on the gas hydrate system and thus the entire carbon cycle", Dr. Karstens concludes. To date, this aspect has hardly been considered. However, further studies on other ocean margins are needed to obtain a more global picture, emphasizes the Kiel geophysicist.

The findings are published in Nature Communications.

Source: GEOMAR [February 12, 2018]

Directly following the last ice age, people from the western parts of what is now Norway were a population that had substantially different genetics from the people living in the area corresponding to present-day Sweden.

Anne-Marian Snaaijer, a PhD candidate at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology works in Trondheim's Archive Centre at Dora. The collection trays hold lots of bone discoveries [Credit: Åge Hojem, NTNU University Museum]

"We were surprised that the results showed such marked dissimilarities," says associate professor and archaeologist Birgitte Skar at the Norwegian University of Science and Technology's (NTNU) University Museum. Skar is responsible for the museum's Stone Age and Bronze Age collections.

Scandinavia was one of the last parts of Europe to become habitable when the glaciers released their icy grip more than 10,000 years ago. The ocean's resources and the coastal archipelago attracted marine hunter-gatherers of yore to the region.

Swedish and Norwegian researchers have collaborated on analysing the DNA in 9500-year-old bone samples from the southern and western Norwegian coast and from the Swedish islands of Gotland and Stora Karlsö. This period corresponds to the Mesolithic Stone Age.

Researchers examined seven excavated individuals and compared their genetic material with samples from other parts of Europe.

"People from the Norwegian south and west coast were genetically similar to populations east of the Baltic Sea that came from today's Russia. People from eastern Scandinavia - present-day Sweden - were more genetically similar to populations from central and western Europe," says population geneticist Torsten Günther from Uppsala University. He is one of the main authors of the new study.

Norwegian results are key

This finding may seem strange if you just look at the geography, but it may due to multiple waves of migration to Scandinavia. About 11,500 years ago, people migrated from the south, through Germany and Denmark and then by sea to Norway. About 1000 years later, people traveled from the northeast and followed the Norwegian Atlantic coast southward.

"To understand the migration routes, it was essential to obtain data from the Norwegian individuals," explains Skar, co-author of the study. The Norwegian skeletal remains from southern Norway are also the oldest of the individuals studied.

Over time, the various migration waves led to extensive contact between the diverse populations, and this is also reflected in the genetic data.

The researchers analysed the genetic data in conjunction with other archaeological findings and new insights from climate models to increase their understand of the migration routes, settlement patterns and the first people to settle in Scandinavia as the ice retreated.

Archaeological artefacts and isotopic analysis - which can tell us something about what people ate - help to fill out the picture. The new immigrants that came from the northeast learned new boating and fishing skills to access marine resources, which offered their main source of food.

The researchers discovered that these immigrants also introduced new tools and innovative ways to produce them. This shift in material culture can now be linked to a particular migration wave.

"We expect that a migrating population comes with an entire cultural package - a knowledge of nature, ways of life, craft traditions, beliefs and other customs," says Skar. "Now we can explore more closely how the relationship between the original and new populations evolved. The original inhabitants were highly skilled and adventurous seafaring hunters, whereas the new population was originally an inland people. Archaeologists can track the processes of change in their material culture," she adds.

Light pigmentation variants may have been advantageous

People at that time were largely dependent on the ocean for food. They braved challenging climate conditions that required behavioral adaptations in the short term, and that in the longer term could lead to changes in the population's genetic composition.

"The two groups that migrated to Scandinavia at that time were genetically distinct. People from the south probably had blue eyes and dark skin, while those from the northeast had various eye colours and light skin," says population geneticist Mattias Jakobsson from Uppsala University, another of the main authors.

The genetic variation between the Mesolithic individuals from Scandinavia is surprisingly high, and greater than in the populations who lived in western and central Europe. This contrasts with the Europe of today, where the largest genetic variation is found in the south.

The lighter variations of skin and eye color that are more common in Scandinavia than in other parts of Europe also appear to have been the case at the time of the migrations. Pigmentation, now as then, tends to decrease the farther away a population group lives from the equator. We can assume this to be an indicator of climate adaptation.

Good results

The results are presented in a research article recently published in PLoS Biology. The sample quality is very high.

The remains of one of the individuals studied yielded aDNA results with the best coverage, or depth, achieved for any human being from prehistoric times. The abbreviation aDNA stands for ancient DNA and refers to the study of genetic data obtained from fossil subjects.

Source: Norwegian University of Science and Technology [February 01, 2018]

Whether at a casino playing craps or engaging with family in a simple board game at home, rolling the dice introduces a bit of chance or "luck" into every game. We expect dice to be fair, where every number has equal probability of being rolled.

14th century medieval dice from the Netherlands recovered during an excavation in the 1990s [Credit: Jelmer Eerkens, UC Davis]

But a new study shows this was not always the case. In Roman times, many dice were visibly lopsided, unlike today's perfect cubes. And in early medieval times, dice were often "unbalanced" in the arrangement of numbers, where 1 appears opposite 2, 3 opposite 4, and 5 opposite 6. It did not matter what the objects were made of (metal, clay, bone, antler and ivory), or whether they were precisely symmetrical or consistent in size or shape, because, like the weather, rolls were predetermined by gods or other supernatural elements.

Renaissance brings change

All that began to change around 1450, when dice makers and players seemingly figured out that form affected function, explained Jelmer Eerkens, University of California, Davis, professor of anthropology and the lead author of a recent study on dice.

"A new worldview was emerging -- the Renaissance. People like Galileo and Blaise Pascal were developing ideas about chance and probability, and we know from written records in some cases they were actually consulting with gamblers," he said. "We think users of dice also adopted new ideas about fairness, and chance or probability in games."

Standardization comes into play

"Standardizing the attributes of a die, like symmetry and the arrangement of numbers, may have been one method to decrease the likelihood that an unscrupulous player had manipulated the dice to change the odds of a particular roll," Eerkens said.

Dice are not common finds in archaeological sites. They are typically found in garbage, domestic areas, or cemeteries, and frequently are recovered as lone objects in a site, Eerkens said. Many are not accurately dated.

After looking at hundreds of dice in dozens of museums and archaeological depots across the Netherlands, Eerkens and his co-author, Alex de Voogt, of the American Museum of Natural History, New York, were able to assemble and analyze a set of 110 carefully dated, cube-shaped dice. Their findings were published in the journal Acta Archaeologica in December.

The researchers found that:

- Dice made before 400, or in Roman times, are highly variable in shape, size, material and configuration of numbers.

- Dice are very rare between 400 and 1100, corresponding to the Dark Ages.

- When dice reappear around 1100 they are predominantly in the "primes" configuration, where opposite numbers tally to prime numbers (1-2; 3-4; 5-6), a numbering style that was also popular in ancient Mesopotamia and Egypt. Early medieval dice also tend to be quite small relative to their Roman predecessors.

- Around 1450 the numbering system quickly changed to "sevens" where opposite sides add up to seven (6-1; 5-2; 3-4). Dice also became highly standardized in shape, and also were made larger again. Standardization may be, in part, a byproduct of mass production.

Eerkens said he studied dice because they are a convenient item in which to isolate the function from the style, as opposed to other artifacts found in archaeological sites, such as arrowheads, a functional item used for hunting. "A lot of artifacts we study as archaeologists conflate the two... . We know for dice they are purely stylistic."

The study also shows that dice, like many material objects, reflect a lot about people's changing worldviews, Eerkens said.

"In this case, we believe it follows changing ideas about chance and fate."

The researchers conclude in their article, "Gamblers may have seen dice throws as no longer determined by fate, but instead as randomizing objects governed by chance."

Author: Karen Nikos-Rose | Source: UC Davis [January 30, 2018]

Archaeologists from the Norwegian Institute of Cultural Heritage Research (NIKU) found the small medieval chess piece before Christmas during an excavation in Anders Madsens gate in Tønsberg.

The chess piece [Credit: Lars Haugesten, NIKU]

Tønsberg is Norway’s oldest city and excavations there are followed closely by historians and archaeologists.

Arabic inspired chess piece

The archaeologists found the piece in a house dating to the 13th century. But it is the Arabian pattern that fascinates the archaeologists the most.

"The design of the piece has an abstract shape, and is designed according to Islamic tradition, where no human figures are to be depicted," says project manager for the excavation in NIKU Lars Haugesten.

Chess piece made of antler

The piece is made of antler, and is cylindrical with a protruding nose on top. The height of the piece is 30 mm and the diameter is 26 mm. Lead was probably inserted in the middle of the piece when it was made, making it stand firmly on the chessboard.

The piece is richly decorated with circles on the bottom, several dotted circles on the sides and at the top. The protruding snout on the top has two dotted circles.

"No previous archaeological finds from Tønsberg have such details, which emphasizes that this chess piece is a unique object,” says Haugesten.

The excavation area in Anders Madsens gate, Tønsberg Tønsberg [Credit: Thomas Wrigglesworth, NIKU]

Chess introduced to Norway in the late Viking age

The game of chess was taken up in the Arab world after the conquest of Persia in the 7th century, and was introduced to Spain in the 10th century by the Moors. From Spain, the game spread rapidly northwards, and may have been known in Scandinavia shortly afterwards.

"The oldest find in the Nordic region is from Lund, Sweden, dating back to the last half of the 12th century. That piece is similar to the find from Tønsberg," says Haugesten.

The chess piece from Tønsberg is a knight

By looking at the ancient form of chess, shatranj, the piece from Tønsberg appears to be a horse (today known as a knight).

"In Norway, some chess pieces from the Middle Ages have been found, but few similar knights. For example, in Bergen, more than 1,000 gaming pieces have been found. Of these, there are some chess pieces but only 6 abstract knights," says Haugesten.

Their shape is similar to the piece from Tønsberg, but the size of the pieces varies. The decor on the pieces is not the same as that from Tønsberg, yet the pieces from Bergen both have dotted circles and ordinary circles.

About the excavation in Anders Madsens gate

In the Autumn of 2017, the Norwegian Institute for Cultural Heritage Research (NIKU) performed an archaeological excavation at Anders Madsens gate 3 in the centre of Tønsberg.

The area is in the outskirts of medieval Tønsberg, dating from the 12th to the 15th century. The area is located near Slottsfjell castle, The Royal Estate and the former St. Laurence Church.

During the excavation, several houses and streets were discovered, and in addition the chess piece the archaeologists found ceramics, metal, combs, antlers and a whole range of artefacts that can be linked to the Middle Ages. And in the middle of it all – this rare chess piece.

Source: Norsk institutt for kulturminneforskning [January 30, 2018]

An international team of scientists, led by researchers from the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History, analyzed ancient human genomes from 38 northern Europeans dating from approximately 7,500 to 500 BCE. The study, published in Nature Communications, found that Scandinavia was initially settled via a southern and a northern route and that the arrival of agriculture in northern Europe was facilitated by movements of farmers and pastoralists into the region.

Skull included in this study from Ölsund, Hälsingland, Sweden, dating to around 2,300 BCE, in the ancient DNA laboratory at the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History [Credit: Alissa Mittnik]

Northern Europe could be considered a late bloomer in some aspects of human history: initial settlement by hunter-gatherers occurred only about 11,000 years ago, after the retreat of the lingering ice sheets from the Pleistocene, and while agriculture was already widespread in Central Europe 7,000 years ago, this development reached Southern Scandinavia and the Eastern Baltic only millennia later.

Several recent studies of ancient human genomes have dealt with the prehistoric population movements that brought new technology and subsistence strategies into Europe, but how they impacted the very north of the continent has still been poorly understood.

For this study, the research team, which included scientists from Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Russia and Sweden, assembled genomic data from 38 ancient northern Europeans, from mobile hunter-gatherers of the Mesolithic (approximately 12,000 to 7,000 years ago) and the first Neolithic farmers in southern Sweden (approximately 6,000 to 5,300 years ago) to the metallurgists of the Late Bronze Age in the Eastern Baltic (approximately 1300 to 500 BCE). This allowed the researchers to uncover surprising aspects of the population dynamics of prehistoric northern Europe.

Two routes of settlement for Scandinavia

Previous analysis of ancient human genomes has revealed that two genetically differentiated groups of hunter-gatherers lived in Europe during the Mesolithic: the so-called Western Hunter-Gatherers excavated in locations from Iberia to Hungary, and the so-called Eastern Hunter-Gatherers excavated in Karelia in north-western Russia. Surprisingly, the results of the current study show that Mesolithic hunter-gatherers from Lithuania appear very similar to their Western neighbors, despite their geographic proximity to Russia. The ancestry of contemporary Scandinavian hunter-gatherers, on the other hand, was comprised from both Western and Eastern Hunter-Gatherers.

Map showing locations and timeline of the samples introduced in this study [Credit: Mittnik et al. Nature Communications (2018)]

"Eastern Hunter-Gatherers were not present on the eastern Baltic coast, but a genetic component from them is present in Scandinavia. This suggests that the people carrying this genetic component took a northern route through Fennoscandia into the southern part of the Scandinavian peninsula. There they genetically mixed with Western Hunter-Gatherers who came from the South, and together they formed the Scandinavian Hunter-Gatherers," explains Johannes Krause, Director of the Department of Archaeogenetics at the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History, and senior author of the study.

Agriculture and animal herding - cultural imports by incoming people

Large-scale farming first started in southern Scandinavia around 6,000 years ago, about one millennium after it was already common in Central Europe. In the Eastern Baltic, the inhabitants relied solely on hunting, gathering and fishing for another 1000 years. Although some have argued that the use of the new subsistence strategy was a local development by foragers, possibly adopting the practices of their farming neighbors, the genetic evidence uncovered in the present study tells a different story.

The earliest farmers in Sweden are not descended from Mesolithic Scandinavians, but show a genetic profile similar to that of Central European agriculturalists. Thus it appears that Central Europeans migrated to Scandinavia and brought farming technology with them. These early Scandinavian farmers, like the Central European agriculturalists, inherited a substantial portion of their genes from Anatolian farmers, who first spread into Europe around 8,200 years ago and set in motion the cultural transition to agriculture known as the Neolithic Revolution.

Similarly, a near-total genetic turnover is seen in the Eastern Baltic with the advent of large-scale agro-pastoralism. While they did not mix genetically with Central European or Scandinavian farmers, beginning around 2,900 BCE the individuals in the Eastern Baltic derive large parts of their ancestry from nomadic pastoralists of the Pontic-Caspian steppe.

"Interestingly, we find an increase of local Eastern Baltic hunter-gatherer ancestry in this population at the onset of the Bronze Age," states Alissa Mittnik of the Max Planck Institute for the Science of Human History, lead author of the study. "The local population was not completely replaced but coexisted and eventually mixed with the newcomers."

This study emphasizes the regional differences of cultural transitions and sets the stage for more in-depth studies of later periods in northern European prehistory, such as the Iron Age and Viking Age.

Source: Max Planck Society [January 30, 2018]

Imagine you are 12,400 years in the past. Much of Norway is covered with ice and the present-day island of Finnøy exists as only two small islets. The sea is 40 metres above the current level. A polar bear embarks on a long swim through the icy waters and never reaches land. Some 12,400 years later, the skeleton of that same polar bear is discovered under a basement floor in the village of Judaberg on Finnøy.

The polar bear on display at the Museum of Archaeology, University of Stavanger, is the world’s most complete polar bear skeleton from the Ice Age [Credit: Terje Tveit, Museum of Archaeology, University of Stavanger]

The skeleton of the Finnøy Polar Bear is the most complete discovery ever made of a polar bear from the Ice Age. Now, the Finnøy Polar Bear is on display in its own room in the exhibitions at the Museum of Archaeology in Stavanger.

The Finnøy Polar Bear was 28 years old, weighed about 600 kilos and lived in Rogaland at the end of the Ice Age. It was probably among the very last of its kind along the Norwegian coast. The wonderfully preserved polar bear skeleton was found under the floor of a basement laundry room on Finnøy in Ryfylke.

Old bones in a box

At that time, Hanne Thomsen was employed as a quaternary geologist at the Museum of Archaeology in Stavanger. Purely by chance, she found herself in possession of a box of big old bones. After a closer look, Thomsen and her colleagues at the Museum of Archaeology realised that they must be the remains of a polar bear—a very old polar bear. It turned out that the bones had been found while laying a sewage pipe for a new house on Finnøy. This was in 1976. The bones were then placed in a box, not to reappear until 6 years later.

Hanne Thomsen and Rolf Lie at work in 1982. The excavation took place between sewer pipes in a basement on Finnoy [Credit: Terje Tveit, Museum of Archaeology, University of Stavanger]

At that point, the museum contacts the owners of the house, Sverre and Reidun Asheim, who say that there are more bones under the floor. Hanne Thomsen, Asbjørn Simonsen and Per Blystad, who all work at the Museum of Archaeology, together with zoologist Rolf Lie from the Museum of Zoology in Bergen, are given permission to pull up the floor in the couple's laundry room—and they make a unique discovery.

After digging down through 70 cm of sand and silt, they find a nearly complete skeleton of a polar bear from the Ice Age, encased in a 15 cm layer of clay. They find thigh bones and ribs, as well as remnants of the stomach with partially digested seal bones.

Most complete skeleton of an Ice Age polar bear

The skeleton was encased in clay and under excellent preservation conditions. In other words, the clay protected it from exposure to oxygen.

A proud Hanne Thomsen with parts of the polar bear skeleton in 1982 [Credit: Stavanger Aftenblad]

"When we found it, there were only nine other finds of polar bears from the Ice Age in the entire world. And this is still the most complete Ice Age polar bear from so far back in time," says Hanne Thomsen.

The polar bear sank to the seabed, under about 25 metres of water, and was quickly buried in clay. Subsequently, when Finnøy rose from the sea, the polar bear's remains would have been situated at the shoreline for a brief time before the beach moved further down to its current level.

Fully assembled, the polar bear skeleton measures about 2.3 metres in length, is 0.6 metres wide and stands more than one metre high [Credit: Terje Tveit, Museum of Archaeology, University of Stavanger]

It was purely a matter of coincidence that Mr and Mrs Asheim ended up building their house on the exact spot where the polar bear had found its final resting place.

Cause of death unknown

When the polar bear was dug out, museum experts speculated as to what could have been the cause of death. They concluded that it was unlikely that it died of hunger, as both seal and sculpin bones were found together with the skeleton. So, what happened to the Finnøy Polar Bear is still a mystery.

Polar bear skeleton during the excavation [Credit: Hanne Thomsen]

The Finnøy Polar Bear was not entirely complete, and for a 1985 exhibition, they replaced the missing parts of the skeleton with bones from a present-day polar bear on loan from the University Museum in Bergen. Today, the missing bones have been replaced with plastic replicas and the other bear is back in Bergen.

Fully assembled, the polar bear skeleton measures about 2.3 metres in length, is 0.6 metres wide and stands more than one metre high.

Author: Ragnhild Nordahl Næss | Source: University of Stavanger [January 23, 2018]

We’ve always heard that Stone Age people lived in caves. It turns out that’s not the case. They often lived in earthen huts, which they reused and kept up rather than building new ones.

Photo shows the excavation of a reused Norwegian tent site at Mohalsen in Vega municipality in Nordland county. The site  is dated to approximately 8300 BCE. Archaeologist Silje Fretheim is on the right [Credit: Hein B. Bjerck]

Small, simple earthen huts from the Stone Age appear to have been used for 1000 years. They may have stood empty for 40-50 years at a time before being maintained and reused – again and again.

Archaeologist Silje Fretheim at NTNU’s Department of Archaeology and Cultural History finds that incredible. “Few buildings today have lasted for as long as 1000 years. Their use for that long tells us there was a point to maintaining the homes,” she says.

She recently discussed her doctoral thesis on housing and settlement traditions in Norway in the Mesolithic period. Her research gives a quite different picture of Stone Age people than today’s youth are taught at school.

“I have school age children myself, and I discovered that most schools still teach that Stone Age people lived mainly in caves. But they absolutely didn’t,” Fretheim says.

The Mesolithic period in Norway spans approximately 5500 years, starting about 9500 BCE, when people were nomadic hunters and gatherers. At the beginning of the period, people lived in tents believed to have been made from animal hides, although no tent coverings have been found from this time. Eventually the homes became more permanent.

Unique for Norway

Fretheim analysed information from 150 excavated Stone Age dwellings, extending from the northernmost county of Finnmark to southern Norway. Over half of them were excavated within the last 15 years, and it is the first time someone has compared the information based on the excavations.

The remains of a Norwegian pit house from the 2003 Ormen-Lange project at Nyhamna, Aukra municipality, in More og  Romsdal county in 2003. This pit house was in use for 1100 years between 5200 and 4100 BCE. The picture shows  the sunken, rounded floor area with a central, stone-ringed fireplace and holes for posts along the walls  [Credit: NTNU University Museum]

The amount of relatively well-preserved Mesolithic dwellings in Norway is unique to Northern Europe, and Fretheim’s dissertation thus gives a new picture of the Stone Age population that also reaches beyond Norway’s borders.

“In other parts of the world, house remains and traces of people from the Stone Age are buried under today’s farmland, or they’re under water because the land along the coast sank after the last ice age.

“In Norway, though, stone-age remains have been preserved because the areas along the coast rebounded from the glacial weight of the last ice age instead. Another reason is that agriculture in Norway has been less extensive, and so it hasn’t covered the traces of the Stone Age. In Finnmark, where cultivated land is the least prevalent, it’s possible to see many traces of the oldest dwellings,” says Fretheim.

From tents to pit houses

Not surprisingly, finding traces of 10 000 to 11 500 year old homes of people from the Mesolithic period is pretty limited.

Fretheim says archaeologists have found tent rings, which are stones that were placed on the tent flaps. They’ve also found cleared surfaces, with clearly defined concentrations of tool remains. Producing stone tools created a lot of debris.

The earliest homes were small.

The floor area of these early dwellings “is almost always between five and ten square metres,” says Fretheim, “which may indicate that nuclear families moved around with portable tents. I think the tents were probably part of the mobile lifestyle ‘package’ that people travelled with.”

This is how a pit house might have looked [Credit: Astrid Johanne Nyland]

Several things happened 9500 years ago that impacted the housing and settlement patterns in Norway: the forest spread into new areas, the sea level along the coast stabilized and the final ice sheets from the last ice age retreated from the interior.

Dwellings then became larger. Instead of pitching a tent on the ground, the floor was partially dug down into the ground of so-called pit houses. The rest of the house was built up with a framework of wood and turf.

The largest pit houses were up to 40 square metres.

“Several families may have lived together, or perhaps hunting teams shared houses,” says Fretheim.

Landmark attractors

As the sea level stabilized, Fretheim believes it became possible for people to build their knowledge of the area’s natural resources, such as good fishing spots. This diminished the need to follow animals such as reindeer or seals on their migrations. People came to prefer living in areas with fishing and hunting conditions that were stable and varied.

The pit houses were kept up and reused to a great extent, with the most used ones being maintained for over 1000 years.

Fretheim thinks it’s fascinating to think about how these house remains affected people in the Stone Age and somehow kept drawing them back to those places.

“Physical objects made by people continue to affect people and landscapes long afterwards. I imagine that the pit sites that were visible in the landscape at the time helped to create the first cultural landscape. These were the first visible traces left behind, so people recognized those places and chose to rebuild there rather than in new locations. People became more settled and linked to certain sites because they saw them as good places to live,” Fretheim says.

Author: Veronika Soum | Source: ScienceNordic [January 19, 2018]

A photo of alleged Norwegian mass-murderer, Anders Behring Breivik, dressed in Masonic regalia has been widely circulated across the web over the last two days. So, naturally, the usual lineup of anti-Masons, from the Daily Mail to David Icke and Alex Jones, are having a field day naming Breivik as a foot soldier in some worldwide Masonic revolution.