The Pantheon interior
Exterior
Posted on 09/02/2011 8:15:56 PM PDT by SunkenCiv
A most unusual Roman structure depicting their technical advancement is the Pantheon, a brick faced building that has withstood the ravages of weathering in near perfect condition, sitting magnificently in the business district of Rome. Perhaps its longevity is told by its purpose . . . to honor all gods. Above all, this building humbles the modern engineer not only in its artistic splendor, but also because there are no steel rods to counter the high tensile forces such as we need to hold modern concrete together. Describing this large circular building tells much of the intelligence of its builders; it was designed to contain a fictional ball, and is some 143 feet in diameter with a wall in the form of skirts dropping from its circumference. In the center of the dome is a 19-foot opening held in place by a bronze ring backed by a brick ring integrated into the concrete dome. This ingenious opening admitted sunlight to brighten the interior The slightly curved marble floor provided drainage and the complex notches in the walls and ceiling tell only a few features of its meticulous design.
(Excerpt) Read more at romanconcrete.com ...
“It was a great place for a burger on the patio while at the same time enjoying the Pantheon!”
Ugh. It was a horror! You know there is incredible food all around. Like Navona Notte, just off the west side of the piazza a couple of blocks.
The Pantheon interior
Exterior
———with as little water as possible to give a stiff, “no-slump” concrete-——
ping for our resident concrete man
He finally gets around to the water, an ingredient unmentioned in the piece earlier.
Abram’s Law: Within the limits of workability, the strength of concrete is inversely proportional to the water cement ratio.
It gets me that we brilliant, genius, modern men can’t figure out how to reproduce this timeless concrete.
Thank you for the photos, afraidfortherepublic.
Hey, at least you check, I can’t tell you how often I get bumped or pinged by people who don’t — although I must point out that I’m glad anyone thinks to do that, regardless of the outcome!
No slump concrete as produced by the Romans cannot be delivered in today’s market in transit mixers and placed into forms. A water to cement ratio of .25 does not contain enough water to allow super plastizers to produce a 4” slump for “pouring” when used, the strength and durability is lost.
Thanx for the pics-—takes me back to that memorable day when I first laid eyes on that remarkable structure.
Although it did not drop my jaw as when I stepped into the Vatican.......all that matgnificent art.....the Pieta...... and the incredible Bernini altar.
In Roman times, pork was a popular meat, but wasn’t always affordable. When the Games were running, disreputable wholesalers (whatever they were called then) would render human flesh to vendors who would then sell it as pork. The flavor is indistinguishable.
I guess now no one wants to come to my cookout...
Hey, we didn’t lose it, we deliberately buried it after killin’ the alien overseers.
Didn't some cannibals in New Guinea call human flesh "long pig?"
Thanks!
Even when the Empire was a going concern, great public buildings were always in a state of seeming disrepair or renovation — because various crooks were using them as quarries of a sort. Vehicular traffic was banned during the day in Rome, so all the delivery vehicles and whatnot had to move (loudly) at night. It’s ironic that this was necessary, since Roman colonies were laid out on a grid and with standard-sized streets, while the capital was a maze of ad hoc and often underpaved alleys and crooked, narrow streets.
Anyway, the noise of the carts on the move masked the sound of the plundering of stone. Emperors made a continual series of laws and proclamations over the centuries, banning the practice, which shows how effective those laws and proclamations were.
A great deal of the statuary from ancient Rome got carted off in the same way, at night, for rendering into lime mortar. This practiced continued into the Middle Ages, and was finally stopped (over a period of generations, it took that long to put on the brakes) after the discovery of the Laccoon Group, a masterpiece of sculpture that inspired Michelangelo and plenty of others.
By the time the Popes returned to Rome (after the Avignon thing) there was just this lumpy field of grasses and untended trees, with some of the largest structures sticking out here and there. The Papacy went on a building spree, and people moved back to the city.
One famous artist (I don’t feel like trying to look it up right now) of the Renaissance bought a house that was a definite fixer-upper, and decided he’d dig a basement before he put in a proper floor. A few feet down he hit what appeared to be a broad, stone floor. It turned out to be the top of the capital of a standing column — the hill on which his previously owned house (and all the neighboring structures were built) turned out to be a giant pile of refuse and fill that covered a still-standing Roman temple or some other public building. What was left of it anyway.
The Flavian amphitheater (the Colliseum, sp?) was overgrown with trees, some of which were growing right at the top of the rim, all the way into the 19th century. The most thorough (not necessarily authentic) restoration work was done under Mussolini.
And for dessert, lady fingers!
A fun way to learn about Roman engineering use of concrete is the novel, Pompeii by Robert Harris.
The novel is about a young “aquarius” or aquaduct engineer who gets the first warning about Vesuvius when problems start to occur in the water supply in Pompeii and Misenum a couple of days before the eruption.
Mixed in with his solving of the mystery of why the aquaducts aren’t working or have sulphur in the water is great information about the engineering of aquaducts, the core of which was the cast concrete water main.
You may not think this provides a great read, but I’m probably not giving a good enough precis to make it come alive—but give it a shot. As days pass and he begins to climb through the aquaducts onto the slopes of Vesuvius you want to shout, “Forget the damn water main. Grab your girl and get the hell out before the volcano blows.”
You sure it's not Times Roman?
(Sorry! I just couldn't help myself!)
I'll bet they can. They just don't want to put in the time to do it. For instance, an engineering prof here in Milwaukee developed a paving process using fly ash that rivaled Roman roads. BUT, Wisconsin engineers don't seem to want to have roads that last longer. There is profit associated with repaving the highways every 3-4 years.
WOW I did not realized anybody would consider me the resident concrete man around here.
Well honestly I do know something as I have been a concrete batch plant supervisor for 16 years now.
In its pure simplicity concrete is just simply amazing, a true gift from god that without it who could say how the advances in society would have evolved?
Yes I still deliver concrete, work this season has been brisk for me in Alaska and the pay quite good. We have downsized our workforce so on many occasions the minimal amount of drivers available are often called to work longer hours.
I love being a concrete mixer driver and fortunately all my delivery area is around Wasilla Alaska, I have been to Anchorage and I hated every minute of it.
Pompeii
by Robert Harris
Kindle Edition
Paperback
Mass Market Paperback
Library Binding
Unknown Binding
Abridged CD Audiobook
Unabridged Audible Edition
/bingo
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