DIGITAL COLLECTION
The Digital Collection brings together my practice as an archaeological illustrator, encompassing drawings of pottery, jewellery, stone tools, figurines, architectural elements, and other archaeological finds. Although archaeological illustration serves a very different purpose from fine-art drawing, the two practices share a fundamental discipline: close observation. In both, drawing begins with looking carefully, understanding form, and translating what is seen into lines on a surface. The difference lies in the intention. Where fine art may allow, or even encourage, interpretation and subjective response, archaeological drawing requires the draughtsperson to suppress personal interpretation in favour of accuracy, consistency, and clarity.
Archaeological drawing is a highly specialised form of observational drawing. It requires the illustrator to look beyond the object as a whole and understand its structure, proportions, construction, surface, material, and individual characteristics. A successful drawing does not simply reproduce what an object looks like; it selectively communicates the information that is most important for understanding and studying it. This is particularly important because archaeological objects are frequently incomplete, damaged, fragmented, or difficult to photograph in a way that adequately conveys their form. A carefully constructed line drawing can therefore communicate information about shape, construction, cross-section, decoration, manufacturing techniques, and surface treatment that may otherwise remain difficult to read.
In this sense, archaeological drawing has much in common with the traditional fine-art practice of still-life drawing. The object becomes the subject, and the act of drawing becomes an exercise in sustained observation. What is seen is what is recorded. Rather than imposing an artistic interpretation upon the object, I work to understand its physical structure and translate that structure into a visual language that is both precise and legible.
This process demands a particular kind of restraint. Every line has a purpose. The thickness, weight, placement, and continuity of a line can communicate information about an edge, surface, depth, break, or constructional feature. Hatching, stippling, section lines, and other established conventions similarly function as a visual vocabulary rather than as expressive marks. For pottery, for example, the conventional drawing can simultaneously present the exterior surface, interior surface, vessel profile, and wall thickness within a single two-dimensional image. This allows the viewer to understand aspects of a three-dimensional object that a straightforward frontal view could not communicate.
The resulting image is therefore deliberately minimal. My archaeological drawings are predominantly black and white, reducing the object to line, proportion, silhouette, texture, and carefully controlled tonal information. Depending on the object, I may show a frontal or elevation view, profile, section, interior, underside, or additional views where necessary. These conventions are not merely aesthetic decisions; they create a consistent visual system through which objects from different contexts can be compared, identified, catalogued, and ultimately published.
There is, however, considerable artistry within this apparent restraint. The challenge is to determine how much information is necessary and how best to communicate it without allowing the drawing itself to become visually dominant. The illustrator must constantly negotiate between precision and clarity, detail and simplicity, observation and abstraction. A good archaeological drawing is therefore not a mechanical copy of an object, but a carefully considered translation of three-dimensional evidence into two-dimensional visual language.
The transition from traditional ink drawing to digital drawing has expanded this practice while retaining its fundamental principles. I work digitally using a Wacom tablet, treating the digital surface not simply as a technological replacement for paper, but as a new drawing medium with its own physical and visual characteristics.
Working digitally requires the same control of line, proportion, observation, and archaeological convention as traditional draughtsmanship. At the same time, the medium introduces a degree of flexibility that is impossible to achieve when working directly in ink. Lines can be adjusted, removed, redrawn, repositioned, layered, and refined without altering the original drawing. This capacity for revision is particularly valuable in archaeological illustration, where accuracy may depend upon repeated checking of measurements, profiles, photographs, physical objects, or specialist observations.
The ability to work non-destructively also changes the psychology of drawing. Traditional ink demands commitment: once a line has been placed, it cannot easily be removed. Digital drawing is more forgiving, allowing experimentation and correction while maintaining control over the final image. Yet this freedom does not make the process easier. In many ways, it places greater emphasis on precision, because the illustrator has the ability—and therefore the responsibility—to refine every line until it communicates exactly what is required.
Digital drawing also allows multiple stages of the illustration to remain accessible. Original line work can be separated from texture, reconstruction, annotation, scale, or other graphic elements, making it possible to modify individual components without compromising the integrity of the whole. Traditional archaeological drawing practices can therefore be preserved while being adapted to contemporary methods of publication and digital archiving. The integration of traditional drawing with computer-based techniques has become an established part of archaeological illustration, particularly as digital technology has transformed the production of archaeological reports and publications.
For me, the Wacom tablet occupies an interesting position between drawing and technology. The physical action remains fundamentally one of drawing: the hand moves, pressure changes, lines accumulate, and the image develops through observation and repeated adjustment. What changes is the surface. Instead of graphite or ink meeting paper, the gesture is translated through a digital interface. This creates a practice that is simultaneously tactile and technological, preserving the discipline of traditional draughtsmanship while taking advantage of the possibilities of digital media
My experience with archaeological drawing developed alongside my work in excavation and archaeological fieldwork. During my undergraduate studies at Dickinson College (2012–2016), I served as a junior staff member of the Dickinson Excavation Program and Archaeological Survey (D.E.P.A.S.) at Mycenae, Greece. There I taught and trained students in excavation, the collection and recording of archaeological data, finds cataloguing and conservation, architectural and small-find drawing, and the preparation and inking of original drawings to publication standards.
During my MFA studies in Drawing, Painting, and Printmaking at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts (2017–2019), I worked as an Archaeological Illustrator for the Mycenaean Foundation at Lamia and the Spercheios Valley (MY.SPE.AR.). This allowed me to further refine my understanding of archaeological conventions, expand the range of objects I illustrate, and develop my practice in digital drawing and the digitisation and retouching of original ink drawings.
I currently work as an archaeological illustrator and draughtswoman for the Mycenaean Foundation, producing digital illustrations and digitally retouching original ink drawings of pottery and small finds from the Palatial Workshops and Lower Town of Mycenae, as well as material from the Akrolamia excavations, to publication standards.
I am also available to undertake archaeological illustration for excavations and archaeological publications, either on-site during the summer months or remotely throughout the year.