This is one in a series of blog posts about our pantheon. Find the list of the whole series here.

Ariadne: most people have heard of her, with her ball of string, helping Theseus find his way out of the Labyrinth. If you've been reading this blog for long, you know the Minotaur-and-Labyrinth story is Greek, not Minoan, created centuries after the fall of Minoan civilization. Theseus was a Greek culture hero, not a part of the Minoan pantheon. Ariadne, though, is another story. She's a Minoan goddess. So where can we find her in the art of ancient Crete?

Of course, we associate Ariadne with the labyrinth. The tricky thing is, there aren't any labyrinths in Minoan art. There are some meander designs that look vaguely labyrinth-like and that may be the origin of the well-known Greek key design. But no actual labyrinths. Have a look at this coin:

Image CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

The coin says Knossos on it, so it must be Minoan, right? Actually, it's Greek, from about 300 BCE - a full millennium after the last of the Minoan cities fell. The Minoans didn't even have coins; they traded via barter.

So why don't we find labyrinths in Minoan art? It's possible they were considered too sacred to be fixed in any kind of permanent medium. Maybe the design was drawn in chalk or sand, or even flower petals, on the ground for the ritual and then removed afterward. We simply don't know. So although we call Ariadne the Lady of the Labyrinth, we can't find any labyrinths in Minoan art.

What can we point to when we want to say, "Look, there's a sign of Ariadne?" How about the labrys?

Image CC BY 1.0 via Wikimedia Commons

This beautiful gold labrys is one of hundreds found in the Arkalochori cave on Crete. They were apparently left there as votive (offering) deposits. Just as Ariadne transforms from the growing grain crop in the World Above to the Queen of the Dead in the Underworld, so too the labrys has many layers of meaning that include transformation and change.

We especially see Ariadne in vegetative labryses - the ones that look like they're sprouting from the ground in a garden. Some of them even have little tendrils, as if they were about to grow leaves. This is Ariadne's symbol because she's the embodiment of the grain crop, rising to the World Above with the first green sprouts in the field and returning to the Underworld at the grain harvest. This myth cycle is a part of the Minoan Mysteries.

Where else might we find Ariadne? How about in joyous scenes of ecstatic dance? The scene on this gold seal ring from the Isopata Minoan cemetery at Knossos includes a small epiphany figure - a goddess descending on the central priestess as she dances. The tipoff that this might be a ritual focusing on Ariadne? The lilies that cluster around the dancers' feet. Those are Ariadne's flowers (I have fantasies about planting an outdoor labryinth where the lines are made up of rows of lilies).

Image CC BY 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Learning to read the iconography of an ancient culture can be difficult, even more so when we don't have any written records to help us. In many cases, we can't be sure what the ancient Minoans meant when they created their art. For instance, there's this intriguing little sculpture from Hagia Triada:

Image CC BY 4.0 via Wikimedia Commons

Many of us consider this figurine to be an image of Ariadne, but we can't honestly know for certain that's how the Minoans saw it. The artist could simply have been depicting a delightful everyday activity. But then again, this could be a goddess hovering between the pillars of the sacred horns. Or maybe it's both - it's not an either/or world, after all. Maybe we can partake of Ariadne's essence when we swing, flying through the air like a goddess filled with joyful laughter.

We're modern people. We have no choice but to view Minoan art through modern eyes - they're the only ones we have. And when we look, we see Ariadne, and the other deities, shining out from the past, ready to connect with us in the here and now.