Archaeological context and discovery site

The structure shown in the two pH๏τographs above is the Propylaea, the monumental gateway to the Acropolis of Athens, Greece. In the black-and-white image, the red-circled area highlights the Frankopan (or Florentine) Tower — a medieval addition built upon the ancient Greek remains, dating from the 13th to 15th centuries CE. This tower endured through multiple historical phases: Roman, Byzantine, and later the Frankish occupation of Athens after 1205 CE.

The original Propylaea was constructed in the 5th century BCE (ca. 437–432 BCE) under the direction of the architect Mnesikles, commissioned by Pericles during the height of Athenian democracy. The site served as the ceremonial entrance leading to the legendary Parthenon.

Materials and craftsmanship

The original structure of the Propylaea was built with Pentelic marble, a fine white stone quarried from Mount Pentelikon, known for its luminous golden hue under sunlight. Each marble block, weighing several tons, was carefully shaped using bronze chisels, iron hammers, and precision-cutting tools, demonstrating the unmatched skill of ancient Greek stonemasons.

The Frankopan Tower, added in the medieval period, was constructed using limestone and reused marble blocks (spolia) salvaged from the ruins themselves. This reuse of classical materials was common in post-Roman architecture — both practical and symbolic — representing dominance over the past through architecture. Its walls were thick, windowless, and fortified with arrow slits, reflecting its defensive, military purpose.

Excavation and documentation

In the 19th century, after Greece gained independence from the Ottoman Empire, the Archaeological Society of Athens began large-scale excavations and restorations on the Acropolis, seeking to “liberate” the ancient Greek monuments from later additions. Between 1875 and 1890, many medieval structures were dismantled in an effort to restore the Acropolis to its classical form.

The Frankopan Tower, once rising over 20 meters high, was completely demolished in 1875. Archaeologists and architects such as Ernst Ziller and Nikolaos Balanos documented the tower’s features before its removal. The act remains controversial: modern scholars regard it as a loss to archaeological history, since the tower was the only surviving relic of medieval Athens. Yet, at the time, the dominant ideal was to revive a “pure classical Athens.”

Historical significance and function

The Propylaea functioned as the ritual gateway to the Parthenon, holding both religious and civic symbolism. During the Panathenaic Festival, Athenians pᴀssed through this gate in grand procession to offer gifts to the goddess Athena. Its symmetrical design embodied the Greek ideals of order, proportion, and harmony.

Under Frankish and later Ottoman rule, the Propylaea’s role changed dramatically: it became a castle, munitions storehouse, and watchtower. The Frankopan Tower served as the central defensive stronghold, commanding the entrance to the Acropolis — a position of immense strategic importance dominating the city below.

Archaeological value and modern interpretation

Although the Frankopan Tower no longer stands, its traces remain visible on the western wall of the Propylaea (as shown in the color pH๏τograph). The uneven masonry and mismatched stones reveal where it once joined the ancient structure — a physical reminder of an erased chapter of history.

Modern archaeologists now view the Acropolis as a multilayered historical palimpsest — a site embodying not only the glory of classical Greece but also the legacies of those who came after. Since 1975, the Committee for the Conservation of the Acropolis Monuments (ESMA) has employed laser scanning, marble spectroscopy, and digital reconstruction to document and restore the site, including the long-lost medieval elements like the Frankopan Tower.

Conclusion: The legacy of an erased layer of history

The two pH๏τographs — one black and white, one in color — capture the transformation of collective memory. The Acropolis is not merely the heritage of ancient Greece; it is a chronicle carved in stone, recounting conquests, rebirths, and the human choices of what to preserve or erase.

Although the Frankopan Tower was dismantled, its absence serves as a reminder of the archaeologist’s duty to protect the entire continuum of history, not just its most celebrated moments. Beneath the golden light of Athens, the surviving stones continue to whisper about time, power, and the enduring creativity of humankind.

And perhaps, as we stand before these ruins, one question inevitably arises: What lasts longer — the monuments we preserve, or the memory of those we have lost?