Ancient Greece can feel strangely familiar. From the exploits of Achilles and Odysseus to the treatises of Aristotle, from the exacting measurements of the Parthenon to the rhythmic chaos of the Laocoön, ancient Greek culture has shaped our world. Thanks largely to notable archaeological sites, well-known literary sources, and the impact of Hollywood (Clash of the Titans, for example), this civilization is embedded in our collective consciousness—prompting visions of epic battles, erudite philosophers, gleaming white temples, and limbless nudes (we now know the sculptures—even the ones that decorated temples like the Parthenon—were brightly painted, and, of course, the fact that the figures are often missing limbs is the result of the ravages of time).
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Dispersed around the Mediterranean and divided into self-governing units called poleis or city-states, the ancient Greeks were united by a shared language, religion, and culture. Strengthening these bonds further were the so-called “Panhellenic” sanctuaries and festivals that embraced “all Greeks” and encouraged interaction, competition, and exchange (for example the Olympics, which were held at the Panhellenic sanctuary at Olympia). Although popular modern understanding of the ancient Greek world is based on the classical art of fifth century B.C.E. Athens, it is important to recognize that Greek civilization was vast and did not develop overnight.
The Dark Ages (c. 1100–c. 800 B.C.E.) to the Orientalizing Period (c. 700–600 B.C.E.)
Following the collapse of the Mycenaean citadels of the late Bronze Age, the Greek mainland was traditionally thought to enter a “Dark Age” that lasted from c. 1100 until c. 800 B.C.E. Not only did the complex socio-cultural system of the Mycenaeans disappear, but also its numerous achievements (i.e., metalworking, large-scale construction, writing). The discovery and continuous excavation of a site known as Lefkandi, however, drastically alters this impression. Located just north of Athens, Lefkandi has yielded an immense apsidal structure (almost fifty meters long), a massive network of graves, and two heroic burials replete with gold objects and valuable horse sacrifices. One of the most interesting artifacts, ritually buried in two separate graves, is a centaur figurine (see photos below). At fourteen inches high, the terracotta creature is composed of a equine (horse) torso made on a potter’s wheel and hand-formed human limbs and features. Alluding to mythology and perhaps a particular story, this centaur embodies the cultural richness of this period.
Centaur, c. 900 B.C.E. (Proto-Geometric period), terracotta, 14 inches high, the head was found in tomb 1 and the body was found in tomb 3 in the cemetery of Toumba, Lefkandi, Greece (detail of head photo: Dan Diffendale CC BY-NC-SA 2)
Similar in its adoption of narrative elements is a vase-painting likely from Thebes dating to c. 730 B.C.E. (see image below). Fully ensconced in the Geometric Period (c. 800–700 B.C.E.), the imagery on the vase reflects other eighth-century artifacts, such as the Dipylon Amphora, with its geometric patterning and silhouetted human forms. Though simplistic, the overall scene on this vase seems to record a story. A man and woman stand beside a ship outfitted with tiers of rowers. Grasping at the stern and lifting one leg into the hull, the man turns back towards the female and takes her by the wrist. Is the couple Theseus and Ariadne? Is this an abduction? Perhaps Paris and Helen? Or, is the man bidding farewell to the woman and embarking on a journey as had Odysseus and Penelope? The answer is unattainable.
Late Geometric Attic spouted krater (vessel for mixing water and wine), possibly from Thebes, c. 730 B.C.E., 30.5 cm high (The British Museum, London), photo: Egisto Sani CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
In the Orientalizing Period (700–600 B.C.E.), alongside Near Eastern motifs and animal processions, craftsmen produced more nuanced figural forms and intelligible illustrations. For example, terracotta painted plaques from the Temple of Apollo at Thermon (c. 625 B.C.E.) are some of the earliest evidence for architectural decoration in Iron Age Greece. Once ornamenting the surface of this Doric temple (most likely as metopes), the extant panels have preserved various imagery (watch this video to learn about the Doric order). On one plaque (see image below), a male youth strides towards the right and carries a significant attribute under his right arm—the severed head of the Gorgon Medusa (her face is visible between the right hand and right hip of the striding figure). Not only is the painter successful here in relaying a particular story, but also the figure of Perseus shows great advancement from the previous century. The limbs are fleshy, the facial features are recognizable, and the hat and winged boots appropriately equip the hero for fast travel.
Fragment showing Perseus with the head of Medusa likely from a metope from the Temple of Apollo at Thermon, c. 630 B.C.E., painted terracotta, 87.8 cm high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: ArchaiOptix, CC BY-SA 4.0)
The Archaic Period (c. 600–480/479 B.C.E.)
While Greek artisans continued to develop their individual crafts, storytelling ability, and more realistic portrayals of human figures throughout the Archaic Period, the city of Athens witnessed the rise and fall of tyrants and the introduction of democracy by the statesman Kleisthenes in the years 508 and 507 B.C.E.
Visually, the period is known for large-scale marble kouros (male youth) and kore (female youth) sculptures (see below). Showing the influence of ancient Egyptian sculpture (like the example of the Pharaoh Menkaure and his wife in the MFA, Boston), the kouros stands rigidly with both arms extended at the side and one leg advanced. Frequently employed as grave markers, these sculptural types displayed unabashed nudity, highlighting their complicated hairstyles and abstracted musculature (below left). The kore, on the other hand, was never nude. Not only was her form draped in layers of fabric, but she was also ornamented with jewelry and adorned with a crown. Though some have been discovered in funerary contexts, like Phrasiklea (below right), a vast majority were found on the Acropolis in Athens. Ritualistically buried following desecration of this sanctuary by the Persians in 480 and 479 B.C.E., dozens of korai were unearthed alongside other dedicatory artifacts. While the identities of these figures have been hotly debated in recent times, most agree that they were originally intended as votive offerings to the goddess Athena.
Left: Anavysos (Kroisos) Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6′ 4″ (National Archaeological Museum, Athens), photo: Steven Zucker Right: Aristion of Paros, Phrasikleia Kore, c. 550–540 B.C.E. Parian marble with traces of pigment, 211 cm high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens), photo: Asaf Braverman CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
The Classical Period (480/479–323 B.C.E.)
Though experimentation in realistic movement began before the end of the Archaic Period, it was not until the Classical Period that two- and three-dimensional forms achieved proportions and postures that were naturalistic. The “Early Classical Period” (480/479–450 B.C.E., also known as the “Severe Style”) was a period of transition when some sculptural work displayed archaizing holdovers. As can be seen in the Kritios Boy, c. 480 B.C.E., the “Severe Style” features realistic anatomy, serious expressions, pouty lips, and thick eyelids. For painters, the development of perspective and multiple ground lines enriched compositions, as can be seen on the Niobid Painter’s vase in the Louvre (image below).
Niobid Painter, Niobid Krater, Attic red-figure calyx-krater, c. 460–50 B.C.E., 54 x 56 cm (Musée du Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
During the “High Classical Period” (450–400 B.C.E.), there was great artistic success: from the innovative structures on the Acropolis to Polykleitos’ visual and cerebral manifestation of idealization in his sculpture of a young man holding a spear, the Doryphoros or “Canon” (image below). Concurrently, however, Athens, Sparta, and their mutual allies were embroiled in the Peloponnesian War, a bitter conflict that lasted for several decades and ended in 404 B.C.E. Despite continued military activity throughout the “Late Classical Period” (400–323 B.C.E.), artistic production and development continued apace. In addition to a new figural aesthetic in the fourth century known for its longer torsos and limbs, and smaller heads (for example, the Apoxyomenos), the first female nude was produced. Known as the Aphrodite of Knidos, c. 350 B.C.E., the sculpture pivots at the shoulders and hips into an S-Curve and stands with her right hand over her genitals in a pudica (or modest Venus) pose. Exhibited in a circular temple and visible from all sides, the Aphrodite of Knidos became one of the most celebrated sculptures in all of antiquity.
Polykleitos, Doryphoros (Spear-Bearer) or The Canon, c. 450–40 B.C.E., ancient Roman marble copy found in Pompeii of the lost bronze original, 211 cm (Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The Hellenistic Period and Beyond (323 B.C.E.–31 B.C.E.)
Following the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C.E., the Greeks and their influence stretched as far east as modern India. While some pieces intentionally mimicked the Classical style of the previous period such as Eutychides’ Tyche of Antioche(Louvre), other artists were more interested in capturing motion and emotion. For example, on the Great Altar of Zeus from Pergamon (below) expressions of agony and a confused mass of limbs convey a newfound interest in drama.
Athena defeats Alkyoneus (detail), The Pergamon Altar, c. 200–150 B.C.E. (Hellenistic Period), 35.64 x 33.4 meters, marble (Pergamon Museum, Berlin)
Architecturally, the scale of structures vastly increased, as can be seen with the Temple of Apollo at Didyma, and some complexes even terraced their surrounding landscape in order to create spectacular vistas as can be seem at the Sanctuary of Asklepios on Kos. Upon the defeat of Cleopatra at the Battle of Actium in 31 B.C.E., the Ptolemaic dynasty that ruled Egypt and, simultaneously, the Hellenistic Period came to a close. With the Roman admiration of and predilection for Greek art and culture, however, Classical aesthetics and teachings continued to endure from antiquity to the modern era.
Additional resources
Techniques – Further Reading
Getty Museum – Making Greek Vases – short technique video – https://youtu.be/WhPW50r07L8
Victoria and Albert Museum – Lost Wax Bronze Casting – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CRfymA6HN5Y
Cite this page as: Dr. Renee M. Gondek, “Introduction to ancient Greek art,” in Smarthistory, August 14, 2016, accessed January 19, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/greek_intro/.
Chronology
As you will see, scholars over the ages have used different names (and often slightly different dates) when creating a chronology of this region.
Geometric Period 900-700 BCE
Orientalizing Period 700-600 BCE
Archaic Greece 600-480 BCE
Early Classical Greece 480-450 BCE
High Classical Greece 450-400 BCE
Late Classical Greece 400-323 BCE
Hellenistic Greece 323-31 BCE
Architecture
Introduction to ancient Greek architecture
by DR. JEFFREY A. BECKER
The Erechtheion, 421–405 B.C.E. (Classical Greek), Acropolis, Athens (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
For most of us, architecture is easy to take for granted. It’s everywhere in our daily lives—sometimes elegant, other times shabby, but generally ubiquitous. How often do we stop to examine and contemplate its form and style? Stopping for that contemplation offers not only the opportunity to understand one’s daily surroundings but also to appreciate the connection that exists between architectural forms in our own time and those from the past. Architectural tradition and design have the ability to link disparate cultures together over time and space—and this is certainly true of the legacy of architectural forms created by the ancient Greeks.
Greek architecture refers to the architecture of the Greek-speaking peoples who inhabited the Greek mainland and the Peloponnese, the islands of the Aegean Sea, the Greek colonies in Ionia (coastal Asia Minor), and Magna Graecia (Greek colonies in Italy and Sicily).
Greek architecture stretches from c. 900 B.C.E. to the first century C.E., with the earliest extant stone architecture dating to the seventh century B.C.E.
Greek architecture influenced Roman architecture and architects in profound ways, such that Roman Imperial architecture adopts and incorporates many Greek elements into its own practice. An overview of basic building typologies demonstrates the range and diversity of Greek architecture.
“Hera II,” c. 460 B.C.E., 24.26 x 59.98 m, Greek, Doric temple from the classical period likely dedicated to Hera, Paestum (Latin) previously Poseidonia (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Temple
The most recognizably “Greek” structure is the temple (even though the architecture of Greek temples is actually quite diverse). The Greeks referred to temples with the term ὁ ναός (ho naós), meaning “dwelling,” temple derives from the Latin term, templum. The earliest shrines were built to honor divinities and were made from materials such as wood and mud brick—materials that typically don’t survive very long. The basic form of the naos (the interior room that held the cult statue of the God or Gods) emerges as early as the tenth century B.C.E. as a simple, rectangular room with projecting walls (antae) that created a shallow porch. This basic form remained unchanged in its concept for centuries. In the eighth century B.C.E., Greek architecture begins to make the move from ephemeral materials (wood, mud brick, thatch) to permanent materials (namely, stone).
The Greek Architectural Orders
During the Archaic period, the tenets of the Doric order of architecture in the Greek mainland became firmly established, leading to a wave of monumental temple building during the sixth and fifth centuries B.C.E. Greek city-states invested substantial resources in temple building—as they competed with each other not just in strategic and economic terms, but also in their architecture. For example, Athens devoted enormous resources to the construction of the Acropolis in the 5th century B.C.E.—in part so that Athenians could be confident that the temples built to honor their gods surpassed anything that their rival states could offer.
Iktinos and Kallikrates, The Parthenon, Athens, 447–432 B.C.E. (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The multi-phase architectural development of sanctuaries such as that of Hera on the island of Samos demonstrates not only the change that occurred in construction techniques over time but also how the Greeks re-used sacred spaces—with the later phases built directly atop the preceding ones. Perhaps the fullest, and most famous, expression of Classical Greek temple architecture is the Periclean Parthenon of Athens—a Doric order structure, the Parthenon represents the maturity of the Greek classical form.
Left: Tholos temple, sanctuary of Athena Pronaia, 4th century B.C.E., Delphi, Greece (photo: kufoleto, CC BY 3.0); right: Greek temple plans (diagram: B. Jankuloski, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Greek temples are often categorized in terms of their ground plan and the way in which the columns are arranged. A prostyle temple is a temple that has columns only at the front, while an amphiprostyle temple has columns at the front and the rear. Temples with a peripteral arrangement (from the Greek πτερον (pteron), meaning “wing”) have a single line of columns arranged all around the exterior of the temple building. Dipteral temples simply have a double row of columns surrounding the building. One of the more unusual plans is the tholos, a temple with a circular ground plan; famous examples are attested at the sanctuary of Apollo in Delphi and the sanctuary of Asclepius at Epidaurus.
Stoa
Stoa (στοά) is a Greek architectural term that describes a covered walkway or colonnade that was usually designed for public use. Early examples, often employing the Doric order, were usually composed of a single level, although later examples (Hellenistic and Roman) came to be two-story freestanding structures. These later examples allowed interior space for shops or other rooms and often incorporated the Ionic order for interior colonnades.
P. De Jong, Restored Perspective of the South Stoa, Corinth (image: American School of Classical Studies, Digital Collections)
20th-century reconstruction of the Stoa of Attalos in the Athenian Agora (original c. 159–138 B.C.E.) (photo: DerHexer, CC BY-SA 3.0)
Greek city planners came to prefer the stoa as a device for framing the agora (public marketplace) of a city or town. The South Stoa (c. 700–550 B.C.E.), constructed as part of the sanctuary of Hera on the island of Samos, numbers among the earliest examples of the stoa in Greek architecture. Many cities, particularly Athens and Corinth, came to have elaborate and famous stoas. In Athens, the famous Stoa Poikile (“Painted Stoa”), c. fifth century B.C.E., housed paintings of famous Greek military exploits, including the battle of Marathon, while the Stoa Basileios (“Royal Stoa”), c. fifth century B.C.E., was the seat of a chief civic official (archon basileios).
Later, through the patronage of the kings of Pergamon, the Athenian agora was augmented by the famed Stoa of Attalos (c. 159–138 B.C.E.), which was recently rebuilt according to the ancient specifications and now houses the archaeological museum for the Athenian Agora itself. At Corinth, the stoa persisted as an architectural type well into the Roman period; the South Stoa there, c. 150 C.E., shows the continued utility of this building design for framing civic space. From the Hellenistic period onwards, the stoa also lent its name to a philosophical school, as Zeno of Citium originally taught his Stoic philosophy in the Stoa Poikile of Athens.
Theater at the Sanctuary of Asclepius at Epidaurus, c. 350–300 B.C.E. (photo: Andreas Trepte, CC BY-SA 2.5)
Theater
The Greek theater was a large, open-air structure used for dramatic performance. Theaters often took advantage of hillsides and naturally sloping terrain and, in general, utilized the panoramic landscape as the backdrop to the stage itself. The Greek theater is composed of the seating area (theatron), a circular space for the chorus to perform (orchestra), and the stage (skene). Tiered seats in the theatron provided space for spectators. Two side aisles (parados, pl. paradoi) provided access to the orchestra. The Greek theater inspired the Roman version of the theater directly, although the Romans introduced some modifications to the concept of theater architecture. In many cases, the Romans converted pre-existing Greek theaters to conform to their own architectural ideals, as is evident in the Theater of Dionysos on the slopes of the Athenian Acropolis. Since theatrical performances were often linked to sacred festivals, it is not uncommon to find theaters associated directly with sanctuaries.
Bouleuterion, Priène (Turkey), c. 200 B.C.E. (photo: QuartierLatin1968, CC BY-SA 2.0)
Bouleuterion
The Bouleuterion (βουλευτήριον) was an important civic building in a Greek city, as it was the meeting place of the boule (citizen council) of the city. These select representatives assembled to handle public affairs and represent the citizenry of the polis (in ancient Athens, the boule was comprised of 500 members). The Bouleuterion generally was a covered, rectilinear building with stepped seating surrounding a central speaker’s well in which an altar was placed. The city of Priène has a particularly well-preserved example of this civic structure, as does the city of Miletus.
House
House of regular plan, Olynthus, Greece, House A vii 4, built after 432, before 348 B.C.E., from Olynthus, vol. 8 pl. 99, 100 and fig. 5, kitchen complex c, d, and e; andron (k) (photo: Perseus Digital Library)
Greek houses of the Archaic and Classical periods were relatively simple in design. Houses usually were centered on a courtyard that would have been the scene for various ritual activities; the courtyard also provided natural light for the often small houses. The ground floor rooms would have included kitchen and storage rooms, perhaps an animal pen and a latrine; the chief room was the andron—site of the male-dominated drinking party (symposion). The quarters for women and children (gynaikeion) could be located on the second level (if present) and were, in any case, segregated from the men’s area. It was not uncommon for houses to be attached to workshops or shops. The houses excavated in the southwest part of the Athenian Agora had walls of mud brick that rested on stone socles and tiled roofs, with floors of beaten clay.
The city of Olynthus in Chalcidice, Greece, destroyed by military action in 348 B.C.E., preserves many well-appointed courtyard houses arranged within the Hippodamian grid-plan of the city. House A vii 4 had a large cobbled courtyard that was used for domestic industry. While some rooms were fairly plain, with earthen floors, the andron was the most well-appointed room of the house.
Fortifications and gate, Palairos, Greece (photo: orientalizing, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Fortifications
The Mycenaean fortifications of Bronze Age Greece (c. 1300 B.C.E.) are particularly well known—the megalithic architecture (also referred to as Cyclopean because of the use of enormous stones) represents a trend in Bronze Age architecture. While these massive Bronze Age walls are difficult to best, first millennium B.C.E. Greece also shows evidence of stone-built fortification walls. In Attika (the territory of Athens), a series of Classical and Hellenistic walls built in ashlar masonry (squared masonry blocks) have been studied as a potential system of border defenses. At Palairos in Epirus (Greece), the massive fortifications enclose a high citadel that occupies imposing terrain.
Stadium, gymnasium, and palaestra
The Greek stadium (derived from stadion, a Greek measurement equivalent to c. 578 feet or 176 meters) was the location of foot races held as part of sacred games; these structures are often found in the context of sanctuaries, as in the case of the Panhellenic sanctuaries at Olympia and Epidauros. Long and narrow, with a horseshoe shape, the stadium occupied reasonably flat terrain.
The gymnasium (from the Greek term gymnós meaning “naked”) was a training center for athletes who participated in public games. This facility tended to include areas for both training and storage. The palaestra (παλαίστρα) was an exercise facility originally connected with the training of wrestlers. These complexes were generally rectilinear in plan, with a colonnade framing a central, open space.
Altar of Hieron II, 3rd century B.C.E., Syracuse, Sicily, Italy (photo: Urban~commonswiki, CC BY-SA 3.0)
Altar
Front view, model, Pergamon Altar
Since blood sacrifice was a key component of Greek ritual practice, an altar was essential for these purposes. While altars did not necessarily need to be architecturalized, they could be, and, in some cases, they assumed a monumental scale. The third century B.C.E. Altar of Hieron II at Syracuse, Sicily, provides one such example. At c. 196 meters in length and c. 11 m in height, the massive altar was reported to be capable of hosting the simultaneous sacrifice of 450 bulls. [1]
Another spectacular altar is the Altar of Zeus from Pergamon, built during the first half of the second century B.C.E. The altar itself is screened by a monumental enclosure decorated with sculpture; the monument measures c. 35.64 by 33.4 meters. The altar is best known for its program of relief sculpture that depicts a gigantomachy (battle between the Olympian gods and the giants) that is presented as an allegory for the military conquests of the kings of Pergamon. Despite its monumental scale and lavish decoration, the Pergamon altar preserves the basic and necessary features of the Greek altar: it is frontal and approached by stairs and is open to the air—to allow not only for the blood sacrifice itself but also for the burning of the thigh bones and fat as an offering to the gods.
The fountain house is a public building that provides access to clean drinking water and at which water jars and containers could be filled. The Southeast Fountain house in the Athenian Agora (c. 530 B.C.E.) provides an example of this tendency to position fountain houses and their dependable supply of clean drinking water close to civic spaces like the agora. Gathering water was seen as a woman’s task and, as such, it offered the often isolated women a chance to socialize with others while collecting water. Fountain house scenes are common on ceramic water jars (hydriai), as is the case for a Black-figured hydria found in an Etruscan tomb in Vulci that is now in the British Museum.
Legacy
The architecture of ancient Greece influenced ancient Roman architecture and became the architectural vernacular employed in the expansive Hellenistic world created in the wake of the conquests of Alexander the Great. Greek architectural forms became implanted so deeply in the Roman architectural mindset that they endured throughout antiquity, only to be then re-discovered in the Renaissance and especially from the mid-eighteenth century onwards as a feature of the Neoclassical movement. This durable legacy helps to explain why the ancient Greek architectural orders and the tenets of Greek design are still so prevalent—and visible—in our post-modern world.
An architectural order describes a style of building. In classical architecture, each order is readily identifiable by means of its proportions and profiles, as well as by various aesthetic details. The style of column employed serves as a useful index of the style itself, so identifying the order of the column will then, in turn, situate the order employed in the structure as a whole. The classical orders—described by the labels Doric, Ionic, and Corinthian—do not merely serve as descriptors for the remains of ancient buildings, but as an index to the architectural and aesthetic development of Greek architecture itself.
Doric order (underlying image from Alfred D. Hamlin, College Histories of Art History of Architecture, 1915)
The Doric order
The Doric order is the earliest of the three Classical orders of architecture and represents an important moment in Mediterranean architecture when monumental construction made the transition from impermanent materials (i.e. wood) to permanent materials, namely stone. The Doric order is characterized by a plain, unadorned column capital and a column that rests directly on the stylobate of the temple without a base. The Doric entablature includes a frieze composed of triglyphs and metopes. The columns are fluted and are of sturdy, if not stocky, proportions.
Iktinos and Kallikrates, The Parthenon, 447–432 B.C.E., Athens (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The Doric order emerged on the Greek mainland during the course of the late seventh century B.C.E. and remained the predominant order for Greek temple construction through the early fifth century B.C.E., although notable buildings of the Classical period—especially the canonical Parthenon in Athens—still employ it. By 575 B.C.E the order may be properly identified, with some of the earliest surviving elements being the metope plaques from the Temple of Apollo at Thermon. Other early, but fragmentary, examples include the sanctuary of Hera at Argos, votive capitals from the island of Aegina, as well as early Doric capitals that were a part of the Temple of Athena Pronaia at Delphi in central Greece. The Doric order finds perhaps its fullest expression in the Parthenon (c. 447–432 B.C.E.) at Athens designed by Iktinos and Kallikrates.
Ionic Capital, North Porch of the Erechtheion (Erechtheum), Acropolis, Athens, marble, 421–407 B.C.E. (British Museum; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Ionic order (photo: Coyau, CC BY-SA 3.0)
The Ionic order
As its name suggests, the Ionic Order originated in Ionia, a coastal region of central Anatolia (today Turkey) where a number of ancient Greek settlements were located. Volutes (scroll-like ornaments) characterize the Ionic capital and a base supports the column, unlike the Doric order. The Ionic order developed in Ionia during the mid-sixth century B.C.E. and had been transmitted to mainland Greece by the fifth century B.C.E. Among the earliest examples of the Ionic capital is the inscribed votive column from Naxos, dating to the end of the seventh century B.C.E.
The monumental temple dedicated to Hera on the island of Samos, built by the architect Rhoikos c. 570–560 B.C.E., was the first of the great Ionic buildings, although it was destroyed by earthquake in short order. The sixth century B.C.E. Temple of Artemis at Ephesus, a wonder of the ancient world, was also an Ionic design. In Athens, the Ionic order influences some elements of the Parthenon (447–432 B.C.E.), notably the Ionic frieze that encircles the cella of the temple. Ionic columns are also employed in the interior of the monumental gateway to the Acropolis known as the Propylaia (c. 437–432 B.C.E.). The Ionic was promoted to an exterior order in the construction of the Erechtheion (c. 421–405 B.C.E.) on the Athenian Acropolis.
East porch of the Erechtheion, 421–407 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The Ionic order is notable for its graceful proportions, giving a more slender and elegant profile than the Doric order. The ancient Roman architect Vitruvius compared the Doric module to a sturdy, male body, while the Ionic was possessed of more graceful, feminine proportions. The Ionic order incorporates a running frieze of continuous sculptural relief, as opposed to the Doric frieze composed of triglyphs and metopes.
The Greek Orders
The Corinthian order
The Corinthian order is both the latest and the most elaborate of the Classical orders of architecture. The order was employed in both Greek and Roman architecture, with minor variations, and gave rise, in turn, to the Composite order. As the name suggests, the origins of the order were connected in antiquity with the Greek city-state of Corinth where, according to the architectural writer Vitruvius, the sculptor Callimachus drew a set of acanthus leaves surrounding a votive basket (Vitr. 4.1.9–10). In archaeological terms, the earliest known Corinthian capital comes from the Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassae and dates to c. 427 B.C.E.
Corinthian column capital 4th–3rd century B.C.E. (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)
The defining element of the Corinthian order is its elaborate, carved capital, which incorporates even more vegetal elements than the Ionic order does. The stylized, carved leaves of an acanthus plant grow around the capital, generally terminating just below the abacus. The Romans favored the Corinthian order, perhaps due to its slender properties. The order is employed in numerous notable Roman architectural monuments, including the Temple of Mars Ultor and the Pantheon in Rome, and the Maison Carrée in Nîmes.
Acanthus leaf (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Legacy of the Greek architectural canon
The canonical Greek architectural orders have exerted influence on architects and their imaginations for thousands of years. While Greek architecture played a key role in inspiring the Romans, its legacy also stretches far beyond antiquity. When James “Athenian” Stuart and Nicholas Revett visited Greece during the period from 1748 to 1755 and subsequently published The Antiquities of Athens and Other Monuments of Greece (1762) in London, the Neoclassical revolution was underway. Captivated by Stuart and Revett’s measured drawings and engravings, Europe suddenly demanded Greek forms. Architects the likes of Robert Adam drove the Neoclassical movement, creating buildings like Kedleston Hall, an English country house in Kedleston, Derbyshire. Neoclassicism even jumped the Atlantic Ocean to North America, spreading the rich heritage of Classical architecture even further—and making the Greek architectural orders not only extremely influential, but eternal.
Temple of Apollo (with reconstructed columns), Sanctuary of Apollo, Delphi, Greece (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
For the ancient Greeks, religion was inextricably tied to everyday life. Gods and many other supernatural beings could manifest anywhere, at any time, and often in unexpected forms. Yet even within such a boundless concept of religion, there were locations deemed especially numinous (the sense of divine presence) and appealing to the gods. These were the places where sanctuaries would be established, such as the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi on the slopes of Mount Parnassos, and where more structured communications with the divine would be sought through ritual. Technically, a boundary-wall delineating the sacred area and an altar on which blood sacrifices could be made were all that was necessary to establish a sanctuary. However, in line with the piously agonistic spirit of the Greeks, sanctuaries quickly became monumental, housing colossal cult images, temples, treasuries, and copious cult accoutrements.
The Erechtheion, 421–405 B.C.E., Acropolis, Athens (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Greek sanctuaries were perennially lively venues, each with their idiosyncratic myths and rites. The Athenian Akropolis (also spelled Acropolis), whose slope and plateau were home to many sanctuaries, was where Poseidon and Athena had competed for the patronship of Athens. The mark left by Poseidon’s trident and the olive tree that sprung from the ground on Athena’s command (at the site of the Erechtheion) were two of the most marvelous sights the city boasted.
Phidias(?), “Peplos Scene,” on the Parthenon Frieze, c. 438–32 B.C.E., pentelic marble, Classical Period (British Museum; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Every four years, during a festival called the Greater Panathenaia, Athenians dedicated to their city goddess a monumental garment (peplos) decorated with mythical images celebrating Athena’s glories. This is only one of the instances exemplifying the transactional framework of Greek religion, for it was through performing sacrifices and dedicating votives that the Greeks believed they could achieve an audience with their gods.
The Athenian Treasury (reconstruction) at the Sanctuary of Apollo, Delphi, Greece house votive offerings offered by Athenian citizens to the sanctuary (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
While certain religious festivals like the Panathenaia occurred at specific intervals and on specific dates, votaries (be they individuals, tribes, or city-states) were free to dedicate gifts to the sanctuaries practically any time of the year to commemorate events, ask for favors, and thank the gods for favors fulfilled. This meant a consistent influx of artworks in various media and of varying qualities.
Map with the three Greek sanctuaries discussed in this essay (map Google)
Some of the more famous works recorded in inscriptions and other written sources have not reached our times not only due to weathering but also because sanctuaries were ripe for looting, as they often acted as treasuries for the city-states by which they were governed. Nevertheless, the remains which we can access still reveal interactions of various kinds. We find examples of different visual media in conversation, such a ceramics that depicted stone cult statues at sanctuaries. Some materials reveal interactions between specific city-states. Literary and visual evidence across generations also help us to understand the varied roles of Greek sanctuaries and the art that once filled them. Three sanctuaries, one Athenian and two Panhellenic, illustrate these types of interactions and provide a glimpse into life at ancient Greek sanctuaries.
The Acropolis of Athens (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Sanctuaries to Athena on the Athenian Akropolis
Commanding the ancient city of Athens from all viewpoints, the Akropolis is not the city’s highest hill but certainly the most significant and symbolically charged. The cult of Athena prospered here in the Archaic Period (600–480 B.C.E.), and well into the Hellenistic Period (323–31 B.C.E.). The crest of the Akropolis, where numerous cult structures, treasuries, and dedications to Athena were localized, saw nearly ceaseless growth in tandem with Athens’ military, financial, and (later) symbolic prominence. Nearly all Greek deities had multiple aspects to their identities, and on the Akropolis several of Athena’s aspects were venerated with votive statues.
Map showing the placement of the two colossi (no longer surviving) of the Athena Promachos and the Athena Parthenos. The Erechtheion housed the Athena Polias and in the Temple of Athena Nike was another cult image of Athena (map Google)
Pheidias, Athena Parthenos, 447–32 B.C.E. (this is a 3rd c. C.E. copy known as Varvakeion found in Athens), National Archaeological Museum in Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The most sumptuous of these were generally funded by the citizens of Athens as a collective, such as two renowned colossi (no longer surviving): the bronze Athena Promachos (“in the frontline of battle”) and the chryselephantine Athena Parthenos (“the maiden”), both built by Pheidias (also spelled Phidias). Equipped with a shield and lance, the Athena Promachos towered over the Acropolis between the Parthenon and the Propylaea. In the Temple of Athena Nike (“the victorious”) was another cult statue of Athena, presumably seated and adorned with her battle gear. In the Erechtheion, the main temple of Athens, stood the relatively diminutive Athena Polias (“of the city”), and which differed from the previously mentioned votive statues because it was believed to have fallen from the sky and so was not made by human hands. [1] Such statues made tangible the different aspects of Athena (noted by the different names given to her) and typically became de facto cult images as worshippers prayed to them.
Scholars propose a busy “souvenir” industry at Greek sanctuaries, meaning visitors purchased, along the way to and perhaps even at the sanctuaries, offerings for the gods. Votive gifts, therefore, made a robust industry and also provide scholars with invaluable information on the religious life and visual culture of the Greeks. Painted pottery found on the Akropolis indicate that one of the most popular decorative subjects was, perhaps not unexpectedly, Athena herself, especially representations of her most famous sculptural forms.
A well-preserved black-figure lekythos shows a sacrificial procession, before an Athena seated in a simplified architectural setting that stands for both the Akropolis in its entirety and the sacred structures housing cult images. Other lekythoi show Athena Promachos being tended by a priest in a temple, while a sacrificial procession approaches her flaming altar.
The Athenas, while not entirely faithful to their respective cult-image prototypes, show that vase painters likely took as inspiration the sculptures and sacred structures they saw all around the sanctuary and Athens as a whole. We may suppose that a visitor dedicated an image of Athena Promachos to the Athena Promachos with the depiction of a perpetual sacrifice recalling the actual sacrifices the statue/goddess received regularly. Much like the myriad iterations the Statue of Liberty has received in other media following her erection, statues of Athena were reproduced constantly on vases and plaques that often accompanied these statues on the Akropolis.
Endoios, Potter Relief, 520–510 B.C.E., marble from Penteli (The Acropolis Museum, Athens). The potter-dedicant sits on a stool (diphros) holding two kylikes (wine cups) he made himself.
A different kind of votive gift is the so-called “Potter Relief,” carved by Endoios and dedicated on the Akropolis by a potter whose inscribed name is now incomplete, is yet another sophisticated result of artistic collaboration. The potter, thankful for the good luck Athena Ergane (“the worker”) has bestowed, commissioned the sculptor to carve in stone the potter himself holding two of the kylikes he has produced.
Temple of Zeus, c. 470–457 B.C.E., Olympia. A chryselephantine statue of Zeus by Pheidias that once stood inside, was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world (photo: Andy Montgomery, CC BY-SA 2.0)
An artistic battlefront: “War of Monuments” at Olympia
Arguably the most important Panhellenic sanctuary was that of Zeus at Olympia in Peloponnesos. Besides being the location of the Olympic Games, this sanctuary was where Greeks from all geographies, including the great colonies like Gela and Syracuse in Sicily, gathered to honor not only Zeus but almost all other primary deities and many ancestral heroes.
Site plan of the Olympia sanctuary, Greece. The artist Pheidias even had a workshop within the sanctuary.
Consequently, potential visibility by a large population of divine and mortal alike made every inch of Olympia precious real estate for dedications. The Classical Temple of Zeus, itself a votive offering funded by the city-state of Elis and dedicated to the patron god, along with its immediate surroundings quickly became the most prestigious spot for other votives. Around 456 B.C.E., following their victory at Tanagra over Athens, Sparta placed a golden shield on the temple roof. We do not know the exact details of the shield, but it was certainly seen by each and every visitor of Olympia as a gleaming reminder of Sparta’s success and the property Athens and her allies lost at Tanagra.
Nike of Paionios, c. 420 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
Plinth on which stood the Nike of Paionios across from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia (photo: Andy Hay, CC BY 2.0)
Decades later, however, Sparta got a direct response: In 425 B.C.E., with the help of Messenians and Naupaktians, Athens achieved a significant victory over Sparta on the island of Sphakteria. Some of the war booty was used to erect a winged Nike on a triangular pedestal across from the temple’s entrance. The sculpture, carved by Paionios of Mende (hence the name of this sculpture—Nike of Paionios) together with its base stood nearly 39-feet-tall. It depicted Nike about to touch land, presumably with a victory wreath in her hand. Holes on the pedestal indicate that shields decorated each side, and the inscription succinctly explains the reason for the dedication: “The Messenians and Naupaktians dedicated this statue to Zeus Olympios from the spoils of the wars. Paionios of Mende made it, who also won the competition to make the akroteria of the temple.” [2]
As the personification of victory, the Nike of Paionios is also meant to remind the viewer of the desirability and allure of being a victor, without shying away from any erotic connotation. The left breast of the figure is bare, yet it is her luxurious garment clinging to her curves that ends up exposing more—an excellent example of the “wet style” in Classical Greek sculpture. [3]
The Nike of Paionios on the front of the Olympic medal for the 2004 Olympic Games held in Athens, Greece
In more ways than one, the Nike of Paionios was the perfect votive offering in a sanctuary that thrived on the Greeks’ agonistic spirit in all its incarnations: war, politics, sports, beauty, and the favor of gods. No wonder, then, the medals for the 2004 Olympics bore as their primary image this very Nike soaring before the Akropolis and the renovated Panathenaic Stadium of Athens (Kallimarmaro).
Images into Words: Pausanias at Delphi
Scholars of Ancient Greek art do not always have the luxury to study artworks firsthand. The colossi of Athena Parthenos and the Spartan golden shield mentioned above are just two examples that have not reached our time but live on in replicas and, more often, the written word. Cult statues by the famous sculptors Pheidias, Alkamenes, Myron, and Euphranor, for instance, are used as a zany plot device in one of Lucian’s satirical plays.
An 1892 reconstruction of Polygnotos’s Nekyia (“underworld”) at Delphi reported by Pausanias, in Robert Carl, Hallisches Winckelmannsprogramm (Band 16): Die Nekyia des Polygnot (Halle a. S., 1892)
Perhaps the most valuable source, however, is a multi-volume travelogue written by Pausanias, a Greek living under Roman rule in the second century C.E. Visiting every accessible corner of mainland Greece, Pausanias noted the intricate etiologies (foundation myths), sacred rites, monuments, and conditions of cities, sanctuaries, and communities. The last book of his Description of Greece includes a lengthy section on the shrine of Apollo at Delphi (where some came to ask questions of the oracle). Two works of art that he describes extensively are two wall paintings decorating the interior of the lesche (clubhouse) of Knidians, both by the famous Classical painter Polygnotos.
Pausanias’ complete description of these paintings is too long to quote here, but it should be noted how they exemplify the fundamentality of interactions between different artistic media (inter-media) in ancient Greece. Both paintings used Archaic literary epics as their source: one depicted the fall of Troy in the aftermath of Homer’s Iliad and the other Odysseus’ journey to the underworld (nekyia) as related in the Odyssey. Polygnotos must have known these stories by heart, as they had always been cornerstones of folk song and popular literature. In each painting he depicted approximately seventy figures in what must have been overall compositions divided into several intertwining registers. So, the eighth-century B.C.E. epics were translated into monumental paintings by Polygnotos in the mid-fifth century B.C.E., and nearly half a millennium later, they were put back into words by Pausanias. This is how they were preserved until our “modern” times when scholars of Ancient Greece began parsing the Description of Greece to access so much that has been lost and recreated, albeit with a certain naivete, what Pausanias might have seen.[4]
Sanctuaries nurtured the psyche of Greeks in myriad ways, including giving them outlets to create and, consequently, opportunities to observe, appreciate, and (re)interpret all that had been created. Religion in Greece was ingrained in every aspect of life, so it makes perfect sense that sacred sites themselves were enriched by all means with which Greeks recorded their lives.
Notes:
[1] For a thorough history of the Athenian Akropolis and the cult of Athena in association with the Panathenaic Games, see Jenifer Neils, ed., Worshipping Athena: Panathenaia and Parthenon (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1996).
[2] Translation from the “Nike of Paionios” page of Cambridge University’s Museum of Classical Archaeology Databases.
[3] Richard Neer, The Emergence of the Classical Style in Greek Sculpture (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2010, pp. 138-41.
[4] Mark D. Stansbury-O’Donnell, “Polygnotos’s Nekyia: A Reconstruction and Analysis,” American Journal of Archaeology vol. 94, no. 2 (1990), pp. 213–35.
Niobid Painter, Niobid Krater, Attic red-figure calyx-krater, c. 460-450 B.C.E., 54 x 56 cm (Musée du Louvre)
Useful for scholars
Pottery is virtually indestructible. Though it may break into smaller pieces (called sherds), these would have to be manually ground into dust in order to be removed from the archaeological record. As such, there is an abundance of material for study, and this is exceptionally useful for modern scholars. In addition to being an excellent tool for dating, pottery enables researchers to locate ancient sites, reconstruct the nature of a site, and point to evidence of trade between groups of people. Moreover, individual pots and their painted decoration can be studied in detail to answer questions about religion, daily life, and society.
Shapes and Themes
Diagram of Greek pot shapes (British Museum)
Made of terracotta (fired clay), ancient Greek pots and cups, or “vases” as they are normally called, were fashioned into a variety of shapes and sizes (see above), and very often a vessel’s form correlates with its intended function. For example, the krater was used to mix water and wine during a Greek symposion (an all-male drinking party). It allows an individual to pour liquids into its wide opening, stir the contents in its deep bowl, and easily access the mixture with a separate ladle or small jug. Or, the vase known as a hydria was used for collecting, carrying, and pouring water. It features a bulbous body, a pinched spout, and three handles (two at the sides for holding and one stretched along the back for tilting and pouring).
In order to discuss the different zones of vessels, specialists have adopted terms that relate to the parts of the body. The opening of the pot is called the mouth; the stem is referred to as the neck; the slope from the neck to the body is called the shoulder; and the base is known as the foot).
On the exterior, Greek vases exhibit painted compositions that often reflect the style of a certain period. For example, the vessels created during the Geometric Period (c. 900-700 B.C.E.) feature geometric patterns, as seen on the famous Dipylon amphora (below), while those decorated in the Orientalizing Period (c. 700-600 B.C.E.) display animal processions and Near Eastern motifs, as is visible on this early Corinthian amphora (The British Museum).
Later, during the Archaic and Classical Periods (c. 600-323 B.C.E.), vase-paintings primarily display human and mythological activities. These figural scenes can vary widely, from daily life events (e.g., fetching water at the fountain house) to heroic deeds and Homeric tales (e.g., Theseus and the bull, Odysseus and the Sirens), from the world of the gods (e.g., Zeus abducting Ganymede) to theatrical performances and athletic competitions (for example, the Oresteia, chariot racing). While it is important to stress that such painted scenes should not be thought of as photographs that document reality, they can still aid in reconstructing the lives and beliefs of the ancient Greeks.
Dipylon Amphora, c. 750 B.C.E., ceramic, 160 cm (National Archaeological Museum, Athens)
Techniques, Painters and Inscriptions
To produce the characteristic red and black colors found on vases, Greek craftsmen used liquid clay as paint (termed “slip”) and perfected a complicated three-stage firing process. Not only did the pots have to be stacked in the kiln in a specific manner, but the conditions inside had to be precise. First, the temperature was stoked to about 800° centigrade and vents allowed for an oxidizing environment. At this point, the entire vase turned red in color. Next, by sealing the vents and increasing temperature to around 900-950° centigrade, everything turned black and the areas painted with the slip vitrified (transformed into a glassy substance). Finally, in the last stage, the vents were reopened and oxidizing conditions returned inside the kiln. At this point, the unpainted zones of the vessel became red again while the vitrified slip (the painted areas) retained a glossy black hue. Through the introduction and removal of oxygen in the kiln and, simultaneously, the increase and decrease in temperature, the slip transformed into a glossy black color.
Briefly, ancient Greek vases display several painting techniques, and these are often period specific. During the Geometric and Orientalizing periods (900-600 B.C.E.), painters employed compasses to trace perfect circles and used silhouette and outline methods to delineate shapes and figures (below).
Frieze with mourning figures (detail), Dipylon Amphora, c. 750 B.C.E., ceramic, 160 cm (National Archaeological Museum, Athens)
Around 625-600 B.C.E., Athens adopted the black-figure technique (i.e., dark-colored figures on a light background with incised detail). Originating in Corinth almost a century earlier, black-figure uses the silhouette manner in conjunction with added color and incision. Incision involves the removal of slip with a sharp instrument, and perhaps its most masterful application can be found on an amphora by Exekias (below). Often described as Achilles and Ajax playing a game, the seated warriors lean towards the center of the scene and are clothed in garments that feature intricate incised patterning. In addition to displaying more realistically defined figures, black-figure painters took care to differentiate gender with color: women were painted with added white, men remained black.
Exekias (potter and painter), Attic black-figure amphora (detail showing Ajax and Achilles playing a game), c. 540-530 B.C.E., 61.1 cm high, found Vulci (Gregorian Etruscan Museum, Vatican City)
The red-figure technique was invented in Athens around 525-520 B.C.E. and is the inverse of black-figure (below). Here light-colored figures are set against a dark background. Using added color and a brush to paint in details, red-figure painters watered down or thickened the slip in order to create different effects.
Watered down slip or “dilute glaze” has the appearance of a wash and was used for hair, fur, and anatomy, as exemplified by the sketchy coat of the hare and the youth’s musculature on the interior of this cup by Gorgos (below). When thickened, the slip was used to form so-called “relief lines” or lines raised prominently from the surface, and these were often employed to outline forms. Surprisingly similar to red-figure is the white-ground technique.
Though visually quite different with its polychrome figures on a white-washed background, white-ground requires the craftsman to paint in the details of forms just like red-figure, rather than incise them (see the Kylix below).
Alongside figures and objects, one can sometimes find inscriptions. These identify mythological figures, beautiful men or women contemporaneous with the painter (“kalos” / “kale” inscriptions), and even the painter or potter himself (“egrapsen” / “epoiesen”). Inscriptions, however, are not always helpful. Mimicking the appearance of meaningful text, “nonsense inscriptions” deceive the illiterate viewer by arranging the Greek letters in an incoherent fashion.
Attributed to the Villa Giulia Painter, Attic white ground kylix (drinking cup), c. 470 B.C.E., terra-cotta, red figure, white ground, 6.2 x 16.2 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)
Vases and Reception
The overall attractive quality of Greek vases, their relatively small size, and—at one point in time—their easily obtainable nature, led them to be highly coveted collector’s items during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Since the later part of the nineteenth century, however, the study of vases became a scholarly pursuit and their decoration was the obsession of connoisseurs gifted with the ability to recognize and attribute the hands of individual painters.
The most well-known vase connoisseur of the twentieth century, a researcher concerned with attribution, typology, and chronology, was Sir John Davidson Beazley. Interested in Athenian black-, red-figure, and white-ground techniques, Beazley did not favor beautifully painted specimens; he was impartial and studied pieces of varying quality with equal attention. From his tedious and exhaustive examinations, he compiled well-over 1000 painters and groups, and he attributed over 30,000 vases. Although some researchers since Beazley’s death continue to attribute and examine the style of specific painters or groups, vase scholars today also question the technical production of vessels, their archaeological contexts, their local and foreign distribution, and their iconography.
Cite this page as: Dr. Renee M. Gondek, “Greek Vase-Painting, an introduction,” in Smarthistory, September 9, 2016, accessed January 19, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/greek-vase-intro/.
From 600 to 480 B.C.E., ancient Greek cemeteries and sanctuaries were filled with marble statues of beautiful young men and women. The images of nude young men are today called kouroi (singular: kouros), the ancient Greek word for boy, though we do not know if they were called kouroi in antiquity. Their female counterparts, korai (singular: kore), wear richly painted robes and accessories made of expensive metals. Kouroi and korai are highly idealized images. Rather than showing people as they actually looked, they are representations of youthful perfection as envisioned by the Greek aristocrats who commissioned them in the Archaic period. These elite individuals conflated bodily beauty with moral excellence, so from their viewpoint, the idealized statues of young men and women that they commissioned displayed both inner and outer greatness. Kouroi and korai broadcasted the wealth and ideals of their patrons, revealing much about Archaic society.
Origins of kouroi and korai
Greek sculptors began to experiment with making statues out of marble in the second half of the seventh century B.C.E. The earliest examples of marble kouroi come from Naxos and Paros, Cycladic islands with natural supplies of marble. Greek artists and patrons may have been inspired to create kouroi after seeing life-size stone sculptures of men and women in Egypt, which opened its borders to foreigners around 650 B.C.E. Greek kouroi borrow their stiff, upright postures from Egyptian statues of humans (such as King Menkaure (Mycerinus) and queen).
Partly carved marble Kouros in situ, Naxos quarry (photo: John Winder, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
A few unfinished kouroi that were abandoned in quarries on Naxos show us that sculptors did much of their preliminary work before the marble block was moved from its excavation site. They probably began to sculpt the block into a kouros before it was sent to its final destination to reduce its weight, allowing for easier transport. Sculptors likely traveled with the partially sculpted blocks to finish them near where they were erected.
Statue of a woman (Lady of Auxerre), c. 640–630 B.C.E., Daedalic (Early Archaic), Greek, possible Crete, limestone, 75 cm high (Louvre; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Shortly after the kouros form was invented in Naxos, clients from other Greek cities began to commission kouroi. In the first half of the sixth century B.C.E., Naxian and Parian sculptors made kouroi for patrons in Attica and Boeotia in mainland Greece, and exported statues to sanctuaries throughout the Greek world.
Left: detail from King Menkaure (Mycerinus) and queen (Egyptian Old Kingdom, Dynasty 4), 2490–2472 B.C.E., greywacke, 42.2 x 57.1 x 55.2 cm (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, photo left: Hrag Vartanian, CC BY ND 2.0) Right: Statue of a woman (Lady of Auxerre), c. 640–630 B.C.E., Daedalic (Early Archaic), Greek, possible Crete, limestone, 75 cm high (Louvre; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Korai became popular soon after kouroi. Like kouroi, many of the earliest korai were made in the Cyclades, but they do not seem to have been based on Egyptian models. Whereas early korai are extremely modest and show almost no indication of their bodies beneath their robes, Egyptian statues of women tend to show more of their form. Greek sculptors may instead have been inspired by images of women they saw on Near Eastern objects like metal vessels and elaborately decorated furniture, which were imported into Greece in large quantities during the Archaic period. They may also have adapted their previous works in the Daedalic style. Daedalic sculptures of women (like the Lady of Auxerre) are richly dressed and rigid like the korai that followed them, but korai are rounder and more columnar than Daedalic statues, embodying a new ideal of feminine beauty.
Kouros of Samos, early 6th century B.C.E., marble, 525 cm (Samos Archaeological Museum)
The changing ideal
Standard kouroi and korai are easily recognizable because of their shared characteristics. They are made of marble and stand in stiff, upright postures. They have Archaic smiles that imbue them with a sense of vitality. Their hair is elaborately coiffed, and korai sometimes wear metal headpieces. Kouroi are nude, displaying their slim, athletic bodies, but korai always appear clothed in luxurious dresses and cloaks. Whereas male nudity was embraced in Archaic sculpture because men’s bodies were celebrated as objects of beauty and strength, female nudity was still considered inappropriate and immodest. Although kouroi and korai all have these basic traits, their appearances vary depending on when and where they were made.
Just as today’s beauty ideals differ between countries, different regions of the Greek world preferred different types of kouroi. On Samos, an East Greek island with an important sanctuary dedicated to Hera, kouroi were rounded and smooth. A colossal kouros dedicated in Hera’s sanctuary demonstrates these preferences. Standing more than 15 feet tall, this statue has a fleshy body with no indication of individually defined muscles or bones. Its sculptor carved it so that the veins in the marble compliment the body’s curves, emphasizing its roundness, wide eyes, and bulky bodies.
Marble Statue of a Kouros (New York Kouros, from Attica), c. 590–580 B.C.E. (Attic, Archaic), Naxian marble, 194.6 x 51.6 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
In contrast, Athenians preferred kouroi with slender bodies, lean muscles, and large heads, like the New York Kouros. Attic kouroi changed over time, becoming more naturalistic as sculptors grew more comfortable working with marble and patrons’ tastes changed. The Anavysos Kouros, made some 50 years after the New York Kouros, has a more realistic face than its predecessor. The later kouros (the Anavysos Kouros) has a wider body that more closely resembles that of an actual man. Although the Anayvsos Kouros is more developed than the New York Kouros, it still has rigid posture, intricately braided hair, and an Archaic smile.
Anavysos (Kroisos) Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6′ 4″ (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photos: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Pomegranate Kore, 580–570 B.C.E., Pentelic marble, 101 cm high (Acropolis Museum)
Kore from the Heraion of Samos, c. 570–560 B.C.E., marble, dedicated by Cheramyes (Louvre)
Attic korai also evolved during the sixth century B.C.E. The earliest kore dedicated on the Athenian Acropolis is today called the Pomegranate Kore because she holds a pomegranate in her left hand. Her costume is relatively simple, hanging from her body in straight lines, though it would have been more elaborate in antiquity when it was painted. Sometime after this kore was made, Athenian sculptors changed the costumes of their korai to look more like those worn by East Greek korai (such as the kore from the Heraion of Samos), who sport intricately folded garments draped diagonally across their upper bodies. This change reflects the shifting fashion preferences of Athenians in the Archaic period.
By 530 B.C.E., Athenian korai wore pleated, East Greek style cloaks over their dresses, as we can see on a kore made by the artist Antenor. This later kore has a slightly more active posture than her predecessors and her body is more visible beneath her gown. Like the Anavysos Kouros, Antenor’s kore is more naturalistic than the korai made before her, but she is still easily recognizable as a kore.
Antenor Kore, 525–500 B.C.E., Pentelic and Paros marble, 205 cm (Acropolis Museum)
Identifying kouroi and korai
Despite these regional and chronological differences, kouroi and korai generally resemble one another and were immensely popular throughout the Archaic period. What did ancient Greeks use them for, and who did they represent?
When kouroi and korai acted as grave markers, they usually represented the dead person whose grave they marked. They were not realistic depictions of the dead, but instead showed an idealized version of the person they commemorated. The statue’s identity would only be recognizable because of the inscription that accompanied it, usually on its base but sometimes on its clothes or body. Today, many kouroi and korai are found without their bases, making it harder for archaeologists to determine who they honored. We do know that the Anavysos Kouros marked the grave of a man named Kroisos because of the inscription on its base. The statue commemorates Kroisos in what Greeks believed to be the most perfect state, on the cusp of manhood, creating the most ideal memory possible.
Aristion of Paros, Phrasikleia Kore, 550–530 B.C.E., Parian marble and polychromy, 211 cm (National Archaeological Museum of Athens; photos: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Funerary korai like the Phrasikleia Kore, a particularly well-preserved statue made between 550 and 530 B.C.E., served similar functions. The inscription on the base of this kore identifies the deceased as Phrasikleia, a maiden who died before she was able to marry. The kore is an image of a perfect young Athenian woman. Much of the red paint on her gown survives, and it is incised with ornamental rosettes and meander patterns. She holds a lotus bud in her left hand, wears lotus bud earrings, and sports a lotus crown. The lotus was a symbol of maidenhood, and its multiple appearances on this kore remind us of Phrasikleia’s youth and the tragedy of her death.
Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., Paros marble, polychromy, 120 cm (Acropolis Museum)
It is more difficult to determine the identities of the kouroi and korai that were set up in sanctuaries as offerings to the gods. People dedicated these statues to demonstrate their devotion to the gods. Some made their offerings in hopes of securing the protection or approval of the gods, while others dedicated the statues as thank-you gifts in exchange for something they believed the gods had done for them. Like their funerary counterparts, these votive kouroi and korai were often accompanied by inscriptions, but these texts identify the dedicator rather than who the statues represent. It is unlikely that votive kouroi and korai depicted the people who dedicated them because some inscriptions show that men dedicated korai.
Some kouroi and korai may have represented the deities to whom they were dedicated, but we can only securely identify them if they carry attributes. For example, the Peplos Kore, which is just one of dozens of korai that were dedicated to Athena on the Athenian Acropolis, may represent Athena. She wears an unusual costume that sets her apart from other korai, but because her arms do not survive, we can’t tell whether she held the goddess’s attributes. This kore and others like her might instead represent actual young women who served the goddess as attendants. Athenian families could have honored their daughters by dedicating these idealized images to Athena. Just like kouroi, korai were especially expensive and permanent offerings that allowed their dedicators to show off their wealth and devotion to the gods at the same time.
The decline of rigidity
Kouroi and korai began to decline in popularity towards the end of the sixth century B.C.E. They were so emblematic of Archaic elite ideals that they likely seemed conservative to viewers after a new, more democratic government came to power in Athens and began shifting focus towards civic (rather than individual) greatness. When the Persian Empire invaded Athens and burned much of the Acropolis to the ground in 480 B.C.E., the Archaic period came to a close and kouroi and korai fell out of fashion entirely. After the Persian attack, Athenians carefully buried the damaged korai that once stood on the Acropolis in the sacred ground, disposing of them in a respectful manner. They and their male counterparts were replaced by increasingly realistic images of men and women in dynamic postures. The rigidity of the Archaic period was abandoned, and naturalism became a key artistic trait of the Classical period that followed.
Source: Dr. Monica Bulger, “Kouroi and Korai, an introduction,” in Smarthistory, May 11, 2021, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/kouroi-korai/.
Lady of Auxerre
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
The Lady of Auxerre stands at the beginning of the history of Greek sculpture, offering a promise of what is to come.
Statue of a woman, known as the “Lady of Auxerre,” Daedalic style, Crete(?), c. 640-630 B.C.E., limestone, 75 cm high (Musée du Louvre) URL: https://youtu.be/XoEVvoc2PlM
Cite this page as: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Lady of Auxerre,” in Smarthistory, December 14, 2015, accessed February 12, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/lady-of-auxerre/.
Marble statue of a kouros (New York Kouros)
by DR. MONICA BULGER
This early Greek depiction of the idealized male form displays power and poise in his nudity and steadfast gaze.
Marble Statue of a kouros (New York Kouros), c. 600–580 B.C.E., Attic, archaic period, Naxian marble, 194.6 x 51.6 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker. URL: https://youtu.be/Ax8vcxRtmHY
In 1932, The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City purchased an over life-size statue of a nude male youth. The ancient Greek sculpture was said to have been found near the town of Phoinikia in Attica, a region of Greece that is home to the city of Athens. It is an example of the kouros (plural: kouroi) type of Greek sculpture. Kouroi are statues of young, nude men that were popular in the Archaic period. Unlike many kouroi, the kouros in New York is not entirely nude: he wears a choker style necklace and a fillet in his hair. Today, the statue is known as the New York Kouros because of its current location. Scholars date its creation to c. 600–580 B.C.E., making it one of the earliest examples of the kouros type.
New York Kouros, c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)
From Naxos to Attica
Some 2600 years ago, the New York Kouros functioned as a grave marker in Attica. Although it stood above a grave in this mainland Greek region, it is made of a type of marble that comes from hundreds of miles away, on the island of Naxos in the Cyclades. [1] Naxos has large quantities of high-quality marble, notable especially for its shininess. People living on the island were already using the local marble to craft life-size statues of humans in the Protoarchaic period. By c. 600 B.C.E., they were exporting many of their sculptures to areas throughout the Greek world, including Attica. [2] Although it remains somewhat unclear whether Naxian sculptors traveled to fulfill commissions, it is plausible that the skilled Naxian sculptors did travel to mainland Greece to create large kouroi for local elites beginning in the early Archaic period. [3]
Rigidity and symmetry as Archaic ideals
The early Archaic date of the New York Kouros is confirmed by its style. Overall, the New York Kouros is rigid and stiff, and seems to recall the four-sided marble block it was carved from. Greek sculptors who created kouroi may have been inspired by Egyptian stone sculptures they heard about or saw in the Protoarchaic and early Archaic periods. Indeed, some scholars believe the New York Kouros is so similar to Egyptian sculptures that its creators must have used the same rigid system of proportions that Egyptian sculptors did. [4] However, Jane Carter and Laura Steinberg’s recent reevaluation of statistical comparisons between this kouros and the Egyptian canon of proportions disproves this. [5] Although this kouros is block-like and carefully proportioned, it conforms to a distinctly Archaic Greek ideal. It has an impossibly large head, which sits atop a long neck that is adorned with a knotted ribbon. [6] It has broad shoulders, a long waist, and short thighs. [7] To prevent the marble of the kouros from breaking, the sculptor thickened its ankles slightly and left its fists attached to its thighs with narrow strips of stone. [8]
The sculptor’s goal was not to create a highly realistic image that closely resembled the deceased whose grave the kouros marked, but instead to create one that embodied the ideal of the period. For that reason, the anatomy of the figure is rendered in a series of patterns that appear almost decorative. The figure’s pelvis is distinguished by a prominent raised line that resembles a V, while the upper portion of his abdomen is marked out by a less prominently raised line that looks like an upside-down V. [9]
Head (detail), New York Kouros, c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The sculptor’s focus on symmetry and pattern is especially noticeable in the face and hair of the figure. The cheeks are flat, while the eyebrows are indicated by single curving lines. The ears are curled like volutes. The hair is rigidly patterned, made up of a series of squared off strands that fall heavily on the figure’s back. Although none of these characteristics could have closely resembled an actual human, they are easily recognizable as human body parts. They have been made decorative to create a more perfect image of an elite male. In the Archaic period, the entire statue would have appeared even more ornamental because it would have been painted. Traces of pigment are still visible in the reddish tones that appear on the kouros’s fillet and hair.
Left: Head (detail), New York Kouros, c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0; right: head of a kouros (the so-called Dipylon Head), c. 600 B.C.E., marble, 17 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Egisto Sani, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Kouros (the so-called Sacred Gate Kouros), c. 600–590 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 10 inches high (Kerameikos Museum, Athens; photo: Zde, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Relationship with other kouroi
The highly decorative style of the New York Kouros is typical of the earliest Athenian kouroi. The head of another kouros that was found in Athens so closely resembles the New York Kouros that some scholars believe the two were created in the same workshop. [10] The kouros’s head, now known as the Dipylon Head because it was found near the Dipylon cemetery in Athens, closely resembles that of the New York Kouros. Both kouroi have large, staring eyes under curved eyebrows, volute-like ears, and fillets in their hair. They have similar hairstyles, with heavy locks made up of squarish individual elements, though the Dipylon Head’s strands of hair interlock with one another rather than lying next to each other in the more grid-like pattern we see on the New York Kouros. [11]
In 2002, archaeologists working in Athens found yet another kouros that closely resembles both the Dipylon Head and the New York Kouros, further enhancing our understanding of what kouroi looked like in the early 7th century B.C.E. This recently discovered kouros is known as the Sacred Gate Kouros because of its findspot. The Sacred Gate Kouros is more muscular than the New York Kouros, but it is similarly proportioned, and especially similar in the appearance of its hair and face.
Left: New York Kouros, c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York); right: Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
As the Archaic period progressed, the ideal form of the kouros shifted. These changes are especially noticeable when we compare the New York Kouros to the Anavysos Kouros, which was made about 60 years later. Both kouroi served as grave markers, perhaps even in the same cemetery, but they embody different ideals. [12] The Anavysos Kouros is more naturalistic, or lifelike, than the earlier New York Kouros. Its muscles are carved more deeply and appear more rounded, and thus more closely resemble the proportions of an actual young man. The Anavysos Kouros’s proportions are also more realistic, with a smaller head, thicker waist, and less elongated calves. Both statues are nude and muscular, and both have elaborate hairstyles. Both also take slight steps forward with their left legs, advancing despite their stiffness and rigidity. However, it is clear that as the Archaic period continued, wealthy customers and the sculptors who worked for them were interested in more rounded and naturalistic kouroi.
New York Kouros, c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
A perfected memorial
The New York Kouros now stands in the center of a gallery in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York. But why would a wealthy Athenian living in 600 B.C.E. want to mark a loved one’s grave with this statue? It could not have closely resembled the deceased, or any other real person. Instead, it projected a perfected image of the deceased to all who passed it. Kouroi were expensive monuments, and would have been available to only the most elite customers. The presence of the kouros would indicate to ancient viewers that the person who was buried beneath it was wealthy and honorable. The kouros’s nudity allows it to display its perfected, muscled body. Youth and strength were highly valued by the ancient Greeks, who understood these characteristics to be crucial to achieving success in athletic and military competitions. [13] The decorative symmetry of the kouros was in keeping with the preferred style of the early Archaic period. Gazing out over the heads of those who walked by it, the New York Kouros would draw attention to itself and the person whose grave it marked, preserving the memory of the deceased and associating him with ideals of youth and strength.
Marble Statue of a kouros (New York Kouros), c. 600–580 B.C.E., Attic, archaic period, Naxian marble, 194.6 x 51.6 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York). Video from The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
This video features Met curator Joan R. Mertens on self-reliance in Marble statue of a kouros (youth). This kouros is one of the earliest marble statues of a human figure carved in Attica. The rigid stance, with the left leg forward and arms at the side, was derived from Egyptian art. The pose provided a clear, simple formula that was used by Greek sculptors throughout the sixth century B.C.E. In this early figure, geometric, almost abstract forms predominate, and anatomical details are rendered in beautiful analogous patterns. The statue marked the grave of a young Athenian aristocrat.
“Stay and mourn at the monument of dead Kroisos, who raging Ares slew as he fought in the front ranks.”
Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens). Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris URL: https://youtu.be/v1_pCZBVWuY
Grave markers or votive offerings
In the late Archaic period, this over life-size statue stood above the grave of a man from a wealthy Greek family, grandly marking his tomb. With its idealized body, rigid posture, and distant gaze, the statue still commands attention today, long after it was completed around 530 B.C.E. By looking closely at the statue, we can learn quite a lot about the ancient Greeks who looked upon it centuries ago.
This statue is an example of the kouros (plural: kouroi) type of Greek sculpture. The ancient Greek word kouros means “youth” or “young boy,” but we don’t know if the ancient Greeks called these statues kouroi—modern scholars were the first to use the term to describe them. [1] A kouros is a statue of a young, nude male. The young age of the kouros is evident in his beardless face, which indicates that he has not yet fully matured into adulthood.
Kouroi are usually entirely nude, though some wear headbands or necklaces. Although kouroi take one small step forward, placing their left foot in front of their right, they are rigid and stiff, holding their clenched fists close to their sides and tensing their muscles. Throughout the Archaic period, Greek sculptors made kouroi that functioned either as grave markers or as votive offerings given to the gods.
Influence of Egypt
The Greek sculptors who invented the kouros type may have been partially inspired by Egyptian stone sculptures. [2] Just before the beginning of the Archaic period, interactions between Greece and Egypt increased, creating more opportunities for Greeks to see Egyptian statues. Like Greek kouroi, Egyptian statues of elite men are often stiff and rigid, and they are made of stone, a durable and expensive material. However, there are two major differences between typical Egyptian sculptures of men and Greek kouroi. First, whereas kouroi are always nude, Egyptian sculptors usually showed men clothed (elites, like the priest named Tjayasetimu who is depicted in this image, wear kilts). Second, kouroi are fully separated from the block of stone from which they are carved. Although they are stiff, they stand without support. Many life-size Egyptian stone sculptures, including this one, rely on stone supports to stand up. These differences reveal that, while the Archaic Greeks may have taken Egyptian statues as inspiration, they created their own type when they invented the kouros.
Side view of the kouros’s head (detail), Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
An ideal
For the Archaic Greeks, kouroi were the perfected images of masculinity. They embody a specifically Greek ideal. The Anavysos Kouros is one of the best preserved examples of this ideal. His face is symmetrical, with wide staring eyes and a slight smile. His smile is not meant to convey that he is happy. This expression, known as the Archaic smile, is instead intended to make the statue appear more lifelike. The hair of the kouros is also symmetrical and elaborately styled. Curls are arranged across the figure’s forehead, while long braids of hair fall down his back. This elaborate hairstyle conveys the wealth of the individual represented. A thin ribbon runs around the crown of the kouros’s head, seemingly holding a cap in place. [3] Traces of red pigment are still visible on the eyes and hair of the kouros’s head. [4] Like most ancient Greek statues, the Anavysos Kouros was originally brightly painted. Much of that paint has now faded, leaving the whitish marble visible.
Left: statue of a kouros (New York Kouros), c. 600–580 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York); right: Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
By comparing the Anavysos Kouros to an earlier kouros, we can see how the style of kouroi—and the ideal they embody—evolved throughout the Archaic period. Like the Anavysos Kouros, the New York Kouros is stiff and rigid. Both kouroi stand with their hands clenched at their sides and take one step forward with their left legs. Both have patterned hair and Archaic smiles. Both also originally functioned as grave markers and were probably set up close to each other in the same cemetery. [5] However, the Anavysos kouros is more naturalistic, or lifelike, than the New York Kouros in several ways. The Anavysos Kouros has much more rounded, fully developed muscles than the New York Kouros does. In comparison, the muscles of the New York Kouros look almost like patterns carved into the stone rather than volumetric muscles. The face of the Anavysos Kouros is also more naturalistic than that of the New York Kouros, with more realistically proportioned facial features and more attention to the transitions between parts of the body.
To create a more naturalistic image, the sculptor of the Anavysos Kouros has carved further into the block of marble than the sculptor of the New York Kouros did. Although the Anavysos Kouros’s hands are still attached to his thighs by small pieces of marble, ensuring that they would not break off, these supports are much smaller than the larger attachments that fuse the New York Kouros’s hands to his sides. The Anavysos Kouros’s rounded muscles make him appear fleshier and more lifelike. He is still idealized—no real person could actually be this symmetrical—but he is more naturalistic than the New York Kouros, which was made 50 years before he was.
Torso of the kouros, with the modern break still visible above the navel (detail), Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Not discovered by archaeologists
This statue is called the Anavysos Kouros because it was found near the town of Anavysos in Greece. Unfortunately, this statue was not discovered by archaeologists. Looters first uncovered the kouros in 1936, and soon smuggled it out of Greece so that it could be sold in Paris. In order to get the large statue out of the country, the smugglers sawed it into ten pieces. [6] One of their cuts is still visible just above the kouros’s navel. When the statue was returned to Greece in 1937, conservators were able to piece almost all of it back together, mending much of the damage that was done.
Front of statue base probably originally associated with the Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 9.45 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: F. Tronchin, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
Almost 20 years after the Anavysos Kouros was returned to Greece, a statue base found near Anavysos was given to the National Archaeological Museum in Athens. Many scholars believe that the Anavysos Kouros originally stood atop this base. The base is inscribed with ancient Greek text that commemorates the person whose grave it marked. In translation, the text reads: “Stay and mourn at the monument for dead Kroisos whom violent Ares destroyed, fighting in the front ranks.” [7]
This moving inscription tells us much about the person who was buried beneath it. His name was Kroisos, and he died while fighting in a war. [8] He is celebrated as an accomplished warrior, “fighting in the front ranks” against the enemy, destroyed by “violent Ares,” the god of war himself. The text encourages viewers to “stay and mourn” the deceased. Together with the kouros that stood above it, it demands the attention of passersby and asks them to remember the man it memorializes.
The Anavysos Kouros is an idealized representation of a man in his prime. Kroisos could not have actually looked like this statue. No real, living person is so symmetrical or stiff. Moreover, Kroisos was a soldier, and so he must have been a bearded adult when he died. [9] But this statue is not intended to depict Kroisos as he actually appeared. It instead presents an image of a perfect man, as imagined by the Archaic Greeks. His nudity allows him to show off his perfected musculature, which conveys his strength. The wealthy family who had this statue made to mark the grave of their dead loved one chose it because it would forever project an image of perfection, making the ideal memory of their relative permanent in stone.
What’s in a name? Discover whether this ancient Greek offering is an idealized young woman or a goddess.
Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 1.2 m high, from the Acropolis, Athens, Greece (Acropolis Museum, Athens). Speakers: Dr Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/RjpT4Apgda8
Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 1.2 m high (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
The Acropolis was one of the holiest places in ancient Athens, full of temples and dedications to the gods. In 480 B.C.E., many of the sacred buildings and statues on the site were damaged by an invading army. In the decades that followed, the people of Athens carefully buried some of these broken votives in pits on the Acropolis, keeping them within the confines of the holy land but removing them from view. Thousands of years later, in 1886, Greek archaeologists excavated one of these pits just northwest of a temple known as the Erechtheion. Within it they found several statues of young women. The most famous of them is today known as the Peplos Kore.
Head and torso (detail), Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens; photo: Marsyas, CC BY-SA 2.5)
When she was first found, the Peplos Kore was recognized as an especially beautiful example of the kore (plural: korai) statue type. Korai are statues of richly dressed young women that were popular in the Archaic period. Archaeologists also believed she wore a simple garment called a peplos, and so she came to be called the Peplos Kore. However, new research focused on the paint and metal additions that once adorned the Peplos Kore has revealed that she is wearing a different garment altogether, and may in fact represent a goddess. In the following paragraphs, we will consider how the Peplos Kore compares to other Archaic korai and how her original appearance differs from her contemporary one.
Like other korai, the Peplos Kore represents an idealized young woman. Her face is smooth and symmetrical, embodying the Archaic ideal of female perfection. Her slight smile, known as the Archaic smile, is another trait that is typical of korai and their male counterparts, kouroi (singular: kouros). The Archaic smile is meant to convey a sense of liveliness rather than signal a happy emotion. The Peplos Kore’s hair is carefully combed and styled into wavy strands, which are further detailed with carved lines that indicate individual hairs. [1] Three of these strands fall in front of each of her shoulders, adding to the overall sense of symmetry in the statue. The kore’s elaborate hairstyle resembles those of other Archaic korai and contributes to the impression that the woman represented here is an idealized, if generic, elite.
Left: Phrasikleia Kore, c. 540 B.C.E., marble, 1.76 m high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0); right: Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 1.2 m high (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
Upon first glance, the Peplos Kore seems to have the same rigid posture that we expect of Archaic korai. However, looking more closely reveals that she is slightly asymmetrical. Her shoulders are not completely straight like those of the stiffer Phrasikleia Kore. Instead, the Peplos Kore’s left shoulder is very slightly higher than her right, reacting to the movement of her arm, which (though now missing) once reached out in front of her. The bottom of her cape is not exactly parallel to her belt, rising up slightly on the right. Her head turns a tiny bit to the left. [2] All of these small adjustments make the Peplos Kore appear more natural and lifelike than many other Archaic korai. [3]
The Peplos Kore’s clothing is also unlike that of a typical kore. When she was first found, scholars believed that she was wearing a peplos, a garment that is made of a single rectangular piece of cloth. The cloth of the peplos is wrapped around the body and folded down at the top, with the flap of cloth usually hanging down to the waist. The peplos is then pinned at the shoulders and belted at the waist. As we can see on the caryatid from the Erechtheion, who sports a peplos, the garment leaves the woman’s arms bare. The so-called Peplos Kore does not have bare arms, and her garment is not pinned at the shoulders, suggesting that she is not wearing a peplos.
Left: back of the torso (detail), Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens); right: front of skirt (detail), Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
In fact, when we look at the back of the Peplos Kore, we find that she is wearing a short cloak or cape over another garment. A closer look at the front of her skirt provides another hint that she is not wearing a peplos: the marble is carved in a way that suggests two rectangular pieces of cloth are hanging vertically from just below her belt, indicating that some kind of sash held part of her garment in place. [4] Just above her feet, below the hem of her skirt, part of a pleated undergarment is visible. [5]
Émile Gilliéron, “Plate 9: Ancient statue from the Acropolis,” 1887, watercolor originally published as Plate 9 in Ephemeris Archaiologike
In antiquity, when the Peplos Kore was brightly painted, it would have been much easier to determine what she was wearing. When we see the statue today we might notice traces of red paint on her hair and face and dark painted patterns on her clothes. When the kore was first found in the late 1800s even more paint was visible on her, as Émile Gilliéron documented in a watercolor painting of the statue that he made shortly after she was excavated. The watercolor shows traces of blue and green paint on the kore’s cape and skirt that are no longer visible to the naked eye.
Proposed reconstruction of the Peplos Kore on display at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford in 2015 (photo: Enrique Íñiguez Rodríguez, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Recent research has further clarified what the Peplos Kore originally looked like and what she is wearing. In the early 2000s, a team of researchers led by Vinzenz Brinkmann used new scientific methods and technologies to analyze the paint on the Peplos Kore. Their work revealed more about the remarkable painted decoration that once adorned the statue and confirmed that she is not wearing a peplos. We can see what she is actually wearing in one of the reconstructions proposed by Brinkmann. Atop her pleated undergarment, the kore wears a long sheath-like dress that is decorated with representations of animals. That dress is partially covered by the short cloak that the kore wears around her shoulders and by a mantle that she wears wrapped around her lower half, which is held in place by the sash with hanging tassels, and left open at the front to reveal the animal decoration of the dress below. [6]
The creatures that decorate the kore’s garment were an especially unexpected discovery. The dress is decorated with real and mythical animals, including a lion, a goat, and a sphinx, in a series of square panels. [7] This unusual decoration led scholars to reconsider the identity of the Peplos Kore: while most korai are understood to represent idealized but generic young women, this kore is distinguished by her elaborate, animal-covered dress, and more likely represents a specific individual. A gown embroidered with animals would be especially appropriate attire for Artemis, the goddess of wild animals and the hunt. Although the Peplos Kore was found buried on the Athenian Acropolis, which is sacred to the goddess Athena, Artemis also had a small sanctuary on the hill and may well have received dedications there. [8]
Additional details visible on the statue support the idea that the Peplos Kore is actually an image of the goddess Artemis. There is a hole in the kore’s right fist, suggesting that she once held an object made of metal. Although the kore’s left forearm is now missing, her posture reveals that she once held it out in front of her, likely grasping another object. The goddess Artemis was known to be an excellent archer, and is sometimes shown holding a bow in her left hand and an arrow in her right, as she is in one statue that is now in Boston. [9] If the kore originally held a metal bow and arrow then her identity as Artemis would be unquestionable. [10]
Top of head (detail), Peplos Kore, c. 530 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
If we look at the statue from above, we see 35 holes encircling her head, as well as a central metal rod that still projects from the center of her head. These holes once secured an elaborate metal wreath or crown to the kore’s head, further distinguishing her from other, less decorated korai. [11]
Proposed reconstruction of the Peplos Kore as Artemis (photo: Donatus Fuscus, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Today, the metal attachments and elaborate paint that once enriched the Peplos Kore are absent. Without them, the kore looks quite similar to other Archaic korai. She is frontal and at first glance stiff, though further examination reveals that she is shifting slightly. She appears to wear a rectangular garment that could easily be mistaken for a peplos. It is only when we consider the decorative elements that are now missing from the Peplos Kore that we come to a better understanding of who she really was. With her brightly colored, layered garments and metal attachments, she would’ve been easily recognizable as a specific individual, quite likely the goddess Artemis. Examining the Peplos Kore reminds us that years of erosion and wear can significantly change the appearance of ancient artworks and affect our understanding of their original significance.
Notes:
[1] Andrew Stewart, Greek Sculpture: An Exploration (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1990), p. 123.
[2] Richard Neer, Art & Archaeology of the Greek World, 2nd edition (London: Thames & Hudson, 2019), p. 163.
[3] Another kore found on the Acropolis, now known as Acropolis Kore 678, has similar features and is so similar to the Peplos Kore that the two are sometimes described as sisters. Mary C. Sturgeon, “The Archaic Style in Greek Sculpture,” Handbook of Greek Sculpture, edited by Olga Palagia (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2019), pp. 282–84 discusses the similarities between the two and suggests that they might have been dedicated together.
[4] Sturgeon (2019), p. 281 describes this feature as “truly unexpected.”
[5] This garment is probably a chiton, another type of ancient Greek dress.
[6] Vinzenz Brinkmann, “Girl or Goddess? The Riddle of the ‘Peplos Kore’ from the Athenian Acropolis,” Gods in Color: Painted Sculpture of Classical Antiquity (Munich: Stiftung Archäologie Glyptothek, 2007), p. 46.
[7] Brinkmann (2007), p. 46. There was also likely a human riding a horse, perhaps a hunter, in one of the panels on the kore’s garment.
[8] Sturgeon (2019), p. 282. It is also possible that this image of Artemis was dedicated to Athena: the ancient Greeks did sometimes dedicate images of gods in sanctuaries sacred to other gods.
[9] Catherine Keesling, The Votive Statues of the Athenian Acropolis (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), p. 136.
[10] Alternatively, if the kore held a spear in her right hand, she would have been recognizable as Athena. However, Athena is not closely associated with wild animals like Artemis is. Moreover, Keesling (2003), p. 139 points out that a statue holding a large spear horizontally in her right hand would present practical issues, as it would jut into the space of the sanctuary in which it stood.
[11] Brunilde Ridgway, “Birds, ‘Meniskoi,’ and Head Attributes in Archaic Greece,” American Journal of Archaeology, volume 94 (1990), p. 609.
Cite this page as: Dr. Monica Bulger, “Peplos Kore,” in Smarthistory, February 1, 2024, accessed February 11, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/peplos-kore/.
Architecture
Sanctuary of Apollo, Delphi
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
The god Apollo spoke through his priestess at Delphi, and Greek cities competed for his favor with offerings.
Sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi, Greece URL: https://youtu.be/AAuCHWr8A_o
Source: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Siphnian Treasury, Delphi,” in Smarthistory, February 28, 2016, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/siphnian/
Ancient Greek Temples at Paestum
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Explore the development of the Doric order in the temples of the city of Poseidon, the god of the sea.
Ancient Greek Temples at Paestum: Hera I, c. 560-530 B.C.E., Archaic Period; Hera II, c. 460 B.C.E., Classical Period; Temple of Minerva, c. 500 B.C.E., Archaic Period URL: https://youtu.be/_tNnI_w6TTQ
Around 471 B.C.E., after many years of conflict, a long standing dispute between the towns of Elis and Pisa in the Peloponnese region of Greece finally ended with a decisive victory for Elis. With this triumph, Elis gained control of the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia, which was at that time one of the most important places of worship in the Greek world. In antiquity, people traveled hundreds of miles to visit the sanctuary at Olympia, where they could worship Zeus, the king of the Olympian gods, and witness the Olympic games that took place there every four years.
The people of Elis decided to build a new Temple of Zeus to celebrate their victory. They hired a local architect, Libon of Elis, to plan and build the structure. Construction began in 470 B.C.E. was completed by 457 B.C.E. [1]
Site plan of the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia, with the Temple of Zeus highlighted
At that time, the area that we know today as Greece was divided into city-states. The new Temple of Zeus was situated within the holy land of the Panhellenic sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia, so it was accessible to people living in all city-states. The temple was seen by visitors from across the Greek world for centuries until an earthquake caused its collapse in the 5th century C.E. [2] Its exterior was decorated with sculptures that told stories from popular myths, many of which the ancient Greeks understood to be stories from their collective history. These narratives, which offered morals about the strength of the Greeks and the power of the gods, carried particular meaning for visitors to Olympia. The sculptures’ clear and distinctive Early Classical style helped them convey these messages to a wide audience.
View of the Sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia in 1899, after early German excavations (photo: Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts)
Today, our understanding of the Temple of Zeus is greatly helped by several sources. First, many of the structure’s Early Classical architectural decorations are still preserved. After the temple collapsed, these sculptures were reused in other buildings and later covered by silt from a nearby river. German archaeologists recovered these sculptures during their excavations at Olympia in the late 1800s. Continuing archaeological study of the temple and its decorations help us understand its original appearance.
Another crucial source is the Roman travel writer Pausanias, who visited Olympia in the 2nd century C.E., when the Temple of Zeus was still standing. His detailed account of the temple, its decorations, and its cult statue, as well as the sanctuary as a whole, provides much useful information. [3]
Ruins of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, with the sole reconstructed column visible in the background (Archaeological Site of Olympia; photo: Andy Hay, CC BY 2.0)
Plan and construction
Many ancient Greek buildings followed one of three conventional architectural orders. The Temple of Zeus at Olympia adheres to the Doric order. Like other temples in the Doric order, the temple’s columns have plain capitals and sit directly on the stylobate. However, the Early Classical columns of the temple are both taller and thinner than the columns of earlier Archaic Doric temples. This alteration made the structure look lighter and taller overall, which fit with the newly evolving stylistic preferences of the Classical period. [4]
Plan of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., limestone and marble, 27.7 x 64.1 m
The Temple of Zeus also follows the rule of Classical architecture that the number of columns on its long sides must be one more than double the number of columns on its short sides. [5] As a result, there are 6 columns on each of the temple’s east and west façades, and 13 columns on each of its longer north and south sides.
Most of the Temple of Zeus was built of local limestone. The quality of this limestone was not ideal, and the stone often had pockmarks. To cover up these imperfections, the builders of the temple covered the limestone with stucco, which made it look like marble, a more expensive and highly valued material. Although most of the temple’s structural blocks were made of limestone, its roof tiles and much of its architectural decoration—including the sculptures that filled its pediments and its relief metopes—were made of marble that was imported from the island of Paros in the Cyclades. [6]
When it was completed in 457 B.C.E., the Temple of Zeus was the largest temple on mainland Greece (though there were larger temples elsewhere in the Greek world). [7]
Pediments
Both of the pediments of the Temple of Zeus were lavishly decorated with larger-than-life sculpted narratives. While they depict different myths, both pediments tell stories that were familiar and relevant to ancient viewers. The pediments also share the same representational style, which is typical of the Early Classical period and often called the Severe Style because of its simplicity, seriousness, and heaviness.
West pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 26 m wide (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)
West pediment
The west pediment of the temple shows a story that was well known to all Greek visitors at Olympia. In the mythical past, the king of a group of legendary Greek people known as the Lapiths had a large wedding celebration. In addition to inviting many of his fellow Lapiths to the party, King Perithoos invited his friend Theseus, a famous Athenian hero, and the centaurs, half-man half-horse hybrids who lived in the same region as the Lapiths. The centaurs, who were unaccustomed to drinking wine (the Greeks’ preferred beverage at such parties), quickly became intoxicated. Drunk centaurs attacked Lapith women, sexually assaulting them during the wedding feast. Eventually, with the help of the Lapith men, Perithoos and Theseus subdued the centaurs and saved the women. This battle, known as the Centauromachy, was popular in ancient Greek art, but the sculptors at Olympia were the first to show it on such a grand scale in architectural sculpture. [8]
The battle, as depicted in the west pediment, is a dynamic event full of motion and struggle. Figures are paired in groups of two and three, creating pointed interactions that contribute to the overall sense of chaotic violence. Their movements are believable and their bodies are realistic, seemingly full of muscle even though they are stone.
Lapith woman and a centaur (detail), west pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble. The drill holes in the centaur’s head would once have held metal attachments, perhaps for locks of hair (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Close to the center of the pediment, one Lapith woman fights back against her attacker. As the centaur tries to pick her up and carry her away, she tries to pry his hands off her chest and elbows him in the head, connecting her left elbow with the right side of his face. Although his face is mostly worn away, the centaur appears to react with a grimace. The expression of pain on the centaur’s face reflects the sculptors’ interest in portraying responsive emotion, an important characteristic of the Early Classical style. The Lapith woman, on the other hand, appears unmoved. As a respectable Greek woman, she maintains composure even under attack. Many of her features are typical of the Early Classical, or Severe, style. Her dress falls heavily against her body, with a believable weight and thick folds that make it look like dough. Her face is also rounded and heavy, with a large chin, full lips, and thick eyelids.
Theseus, a centaur, and a Lapith woman (detail), west pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Elsewhere in the pediment, the battle rages on. One centaur screams, in fear or in pain, as a Lapith woman grasps his hair and beard in an attempt to push him away. The fingers of her left hand sink believably into the centaur’s beard. His open mouth and furrowed brow dramatize his emotions. His muscles strain beneath the skin of his human torso as he stretches away from the woman attacking him and reaches an arm out towards another attacker who approaches him from behind. The man to the left of the stricken centaur is probably the Athenian hero Theseus. [9] His face is calm and his arm is raised as he prepares to strike the centaur. This moment is telling: although the battle is shown as an active, undecided conflict, ancient viewers would know that the Greeks would emerge victorious.
Apollo (detail), west pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 3.3 m high (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC 2.0)
At the center of the pediment, the god Apollo stands still. His unmoving presence contrasts sharply with the struggle swirling around him. While Apollo’s body faces frontally, he turns his head to his right as he holds his arm out and gestures in the same direction. He may be silently directing the action of the battle and deciding its outcome, or perhaps he is pointing towards a fighter he particularly favors or dislikes. [10] While Apollo’s gesture is difficult to decipher, it is relatively easy to see that the centaurs and Lapiths around him seem completely unaware of his presence. Surely, if they saw a god in their midst, they would react with wonder and surprise. Instead, we are likely meant to understand Apollo as a kind of apparition: his presence at the battle is undeniable, but those fighting do not see him. [11] Instead, the visitors to the sanctuary of Olympia were given the exclusive opportunity to see this perfected image of the god, standing some 3.3 meters (10.82 feet) tall, at the center of the temple’s west pediment.
Apollo’s face (detail), west pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC 2.0)
Like the other Early Classical figures around him, Apollo has a heavy chin, thick eyelids, and pillowy lips. His hair sits heavily on his head, almost like a cap, and somewhat resembles the hair of the Early Classical Kritios Boy. His mantle rests heavily on his shoulder in thick, doughy folds. Although Apollo is in the same representational style as the Lapiths and centaurs around him, his central position, large size, and calm presence set him apart as divine. Devout visitors to the sanctuary of Olympia would be awed to see an Olympian god on display like this.
Why did the architect and sculptors who made the Temple of Zeus depict a centauromachy on its west pediment? Overall, the story demonstrates the strength and heroism of the Greeks. It conveys an important, violent message about Greek superiority to everyone who sees it. The wild centaurs upended the norms of ancient Greek society when they disrupted a wedding and assaulted their fellow guests. The Greek Lapiths’ swift retaliation was understood as heroic because it restored order and civility.
As Judith Barringer points out, the centauromachy on the west pediment is depicted in a way that makes it particularly relevant to Olympia, where young athletes from many regions of Greece battled for prizes in the ancient Olympic games. [12] Many of the Greek heroes in the pediment fight centaurs with their bare hands, dominating with the sheer force of their physical strength, the same strength that athletes relied on to win competitions.
The similarities between the mythical battle and athletic competitions are made even more explicit in the sculptures’ details. The classicist Wendy Raschke has noted that several of the Lapiths grasp the centaurs in postures that seem to intentionally recall wrestling holds that real Greek athletes used. [13] For example, one Lapith whose arm is being bitten by a centaur is holding his opponent in a type of neck-hold that was commonly used in the pankration, an unarmed combat sport that used brutal wrestling and boxing techniques. In antiquity, athletes competed in the pankration at the Olympic games. An athlete depicted on this cup holds his opponent in a nearly identical pose. One scholar has even pointed out that this same Lapith, who grapples with a centaur even as his arm is bitten, has cauliflower ear, a real deformity that often afflicts boxers and occurs when an ear is repeatedly hit. [14]
The sculptors who carved the west pediment figures included these details to make this centauromachy especially relevant to, and effective for, their audience at Olympia. Young athletes arriving to compete in the Olympic games would see themselves in this dramatic tale of heroism, and understand their physical prowess to suggest a certain strength of character, which they might someday use to defend their society.
East pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 26 m wide (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)
East pediment
When visitors to the Temple of Zeus at Olympia encountered the building’s east pediment, on the front of the building, they saw a very different scene from the frenzied battle they witnessed in the west pediment. Here, all is calm. No one moves dramatically, or even seems to interact with each other. Instead, the moment depicted is one of anticipation. The chariots that once flanked the five central figures (now lost, though fragments of the horses that pulled them survive) would soon speed away and participate in a race that would shape the future of Olympia and the entire Peloponnese.
Central figures of the east pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC-BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Zeus (detail), east pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Troy McKaskle, CC BY-SA 2.0)
The most important characters in this story are depicted in the middle of the pediment. At the very center, Zeus stands with a cloak wrapped around his waist. The thick folds of the drapery are typical of the Early Classical style, as is the god’s perfectly muscular chest. Although Zeus’s legs are only partially preserved, we can see that he bears most of his weight on his right leg, while his left leg bends. This shifting posture imbues the statue with life, and reveals an interest in realism that is typical of the Early Classical period. [15] Like Apollo in the west pediment, Zeus seems to be invisible to most of the people around him, even though his commanding presence is unavoidable to us, the mortal viewers. His appearance in the scene is likely meant to suggest that he will be watching over—and perhaps arbitrating—the chariot race that is about to start. Regardless of his exact role in the scene, there is no doubt that a larger-than-life representation of Zeus was an appropriate decoration for the center of his temple’s east pediment. From this lofty perch on his temple, he could look down at the visitors in his most important sanctuary.
The men who will soon compete in the chariot race stand on either side of Zeus. Their story is of crucial importance to the history of the Peloponnese. [16] On Zeus’s right is King Oinomaos, a fabled king of Pisa (the long-standing rival of Elis, the city that built this very temple after their victory against Pisa in the Early Classical period). His wife Sterope stands beside him, wearing a heavy, doughy garment and crossing her arms. Legend has it that when Oinomaos’s daughter, Hippodameia, became eligible for marriage, Oinomaos insisted on competing with all of her suitors in a chariot race. Whoever won a victory against Oinomaos would also win Hippodameia’s hand in marriage and control of Pisa. Thirteen suitors, one after another, raced Oinomaos. Oinomaos defeated each of them, and subsequently killed them.
Finally, a fourteenth suitor challenged Oinomaos to a chariot race. This young man, whose name is Pelops, stands on Zeus’s left. He is beardless, indicating that he is younger than Oinomaos. Ancient visitors to Olympia who were familiar with this story would know that Pelops won the race against Oinomaos, and with it the kingdom of Pisa and a new bride. [17] Pelops’s soon-to-be wife, Hippodameia, stands beside him. With her left hand she pulls at the left shoulder of her garment, a gesture of modesty that was often associated with brides in ancient Greek imagery. [18]
Seer (detail), east pediment of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Angela Monika Arnold, CC BY 3.0)
Despite the impending competition, the people in the pediment are passive, apparently unaware of the unexpected turn of events that will soon occur. The only figure who expresses clear concern about the race is an old man who sits behind the chariot next to Pelops. His age is indicated by his slightly sagging chest and his bald scalp, both realistic details that are typical of the Early Classical style. His expression suggests anxiety: his brow is wrinkled, his eyes look warily towards the competitors at the center of the pediment, and he raises his fist to his cheek in a gesture of concern. The man’s age and awareness of events that have not yet happened suggest that he is a seer, a person with the ability to see the future.
The story in the east pediment is relevant to its Olympic context in many ways. It relates an important moment in local lore, when Pelops won control of Pisa. In fact, in one poem he wrote in 476 B.C.E., the Greek poet Pindar said that Pelops himself founded the Olympic Games after he won his race against Oinomaos. [19]
For ancient viewers to understand this narrative, they would have to be familiar with the myth of Pelops and Oinomaos. It is likely that many were, and that still others were told the story by companions or guides as they stood before the temple. But even those viewers who could not identify Pelops or Oinomaos would find something of interest in this composition. In the actual ancient Olympics, chariot races were the most popular event for many centuries. They were prestigious and dangerous. High above the sanctuary of Olympia, facing towards the stadium where real chariot races occurred, these sculptures immortalized the quiet anticipation that precedes a competition. Just as Zeus appears in the middle of the pediment, worshippers and athletes competing in games to honor the god might imagine Zeus’s presence in their midst as they passed through his sanctuary.
Metopes
In addition to having elaborately decorated pediments, the Temple of Zeus at Olympia was adorned with 12 sculpted metopes. The relief metopes did not wrap all the way around the temple. Instead, they were only on the shorter east and west sides of the temple. Six appeared on the front (east), while another six were on the back (west).
Restored cross section of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia showing the position of the metopes above the porch, by Guillaume-Abel Blouet and Achille Poirot, c. 1831
The metopes were also placed in a somewhat unusual location on the temple. They did not appear on the exterior façades, directly beneath the pediments (which was more typical). Instead, they decorated the exterior walls of the cella, so that the viewer would have to step up in between the columns to see them. [20]
Although the metopes are smaller than the pediments, each measuring about 1.6 meters (5 feet 3 inches) square, they are impressive in their own right. They show the 12 labors of Herakles, a series of extremely difficult tasks that the hero completed over a number of years. Each metope tells the story of a single labor and constitutes an independent narrative. But together, the metopes tell a larger story about the greatest Greek hero triumphing against every imaginable opponent and earning his fame.
Herakles is shown without a beard (and thus as a young man) in the first metope from the temple, but by the last metope he has grown a thick beard, indicating that he has aged into adulthood. Left: Herakles’s face (detail), west metope 1 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0); right: Herakles cleaning the Augean Stables (detail), east metope 6 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Jean Housen, CC BY-SA 4.0)
There is no doubt that the sculptors intended these metopes to show several related stories: from the first metope to the last, Herakles noticeably ages. [21] In his first labor, depicted on the first metope, he is a young, beardless man who sits wearily after defeating his foe; on the last metope he is bearded and mature, strenuously finishing a final task. These depictions of great physical strength performed by a popular hero were suitable for the sanctuary at Olympia, where athletic competitions were so significant. [22] Most of the labors shown in these metopes took place in the Peloponnese, the region in which Olympia is situated, which probably made them feel even more relevant to the temple’s visitors. Moreover, these mythic stories were especially fitting decorations for the Temple of Zeus because Zeus was Herakles’s father, and because some myth traditions suggested that Herakles, not Pelops, founded the Olympic games. [23]
The metopes display several typical features of Early Classical art. The figures who populate them have the cap-like hair, thick eyelids, and doughy drapery we have come to expect of the Early Classical style. Some of the scenes are full of dramatic motion, while other, calmer scenes reveal an interest in the emotions of their characters. By looking closely at several of the better preserved metopes from the temple, we will see how the sculptors depicted Herakles’s labors.
West metope 3 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 1.6 x 1.6 m (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
In the third metope on the west side of the temple, Herakles is shown in the quiet moments after he has completed a labor. He has just defeated the Stymphalian Birds (a group of man-eating birds that were attacking people living near them). Herakles was at first unable to access the swamp where the birds lived, but the goddess Athena provided him with much needed assistance. She appears next to him on the metope. She sits on a rock and turns back to look towards the hero, who reaches his arm out to pass her something, perhaps one of the birds. Her dress falls heavily against her body, revealing the shape of her chest and legs even as it conceals them. The thick folds of the drapery, as well as her cap-like hair and placid expression, are characteristics of the Early Classical style. The nude Herakles is shown with an idealized body that moves believably in space. Although this is a relief sculpture, both Athena and Herakles twist and turn in order to interact realistically. To achieve this naturalistic motion, the sculptor has carved his relief especially deeply in places. For example, Herakles’s right arm is fully free of the metope’s background. The narrative focus here is not on the labor itself, but instead on the interaction between the successful hero, Herakles, and his patron goddess, Athena.
West metope 4 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 1.6 x 1.6 m (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Joanbanjo, CC BY-SA 3.0)
In contrast, the next metope is full of action. Here, we see Herakles in the midst of capturing the destructive Cretan Bull. Both Herakles and the bull are rendered with an extreme attention to naturalism. As the bull rears up and towards the viewer’s right, he turns his head backwards to look at the hero. The animal’s head projects fully from the background of the metope. Herakles tries to counteract the force of the bull by pulling back, towards the left. His muscles visibly strain beneath his torso and his gaze is directed straight at his opponent. Herakles and the bull move in opposite directions, countering each other and crossing over one another, creating a composition that is full of tension. [24]
East metope 4 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 1.6 x 1.6 m (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Egisto Sani, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The fourth metope on the east side of the temple depicts one of Herakles’s last labors. Herakles was asked to steal golden apples from the Garden of the Hesperides. When he arrived at the garden, Herakles encountered Atlas, an old god who was forced to hold up the heavens for all of eternity after losing a battle against Zeus and the other Olympian gods. Herakles asked Atlas to retrieve the golden apples for him, offering to hold up the sky in his absence. In this metope we see the moment Atlas returns from the Garden of the Hesperides, with the golden apples in his hands, as Herakles supports the sky with the help of Athena.
Although there is no exaggerated motion in this relief, there is still plenty of tension. Despite his immense strength, Herakles struggles under the enormous weight of the skies. He uses both arms (and a cushion on his shoulders) to hold up heaven. He looks down in a posture that suggests great strain, and his torso bends back as he engages all his muscles. By contrast, Athena shows no struggle at all. She casually places one palm flat up against the burden of the sky, effortlessly helping Herakles. Through her heavy drapery, we can see that she is standing with her weight on her left leg while her right leg bends free, apparently relaxed in spite of the weight she bears. This contrast reminds us that the impressive strength of the hero Herakles is still less than the strength of the gods.
Reconstruction drawing of east metope 4 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia between triglyphs
Another innovation makes this metope even more interesting. When it was positioned on the temple, it would have been situated between two triglyphs, directly beneath another course of stone. In this context, it would look as if the load Herakles and Athena carried was the temple’s superstructure itself. Ancient viewers would immediately recognize the story being told here, but its clever incorporation into its architectural context would provide an unexpected twist that might have provoked conversation. The designers of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia intentionally played with some of the metopes’ positions on the temple, integrating them into the building in new ways. [25]
East metope 6 from the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, 470–457 B.C.E., marble, 1.6 x 1.6 m (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Jean Housen, CC BY-SA 4.0)
The last metope on the east side of the temple depicts one of Herakles’s less popular labors. This labor was first described in ancient literature in 476 B.C.E., only 6 years before construction on the temple began, and, to the best of our knowledge, had never before been depicted in Greek art. [26] In this particularly unpleasant labor, Herakles was asked to clean the stables owned by a king named Augeas. Although these stables were home to hundreds of cattle, they had not been cleaned in decades, leaving Herakles with the foul task of scooping out an unimaginable amount of cattle dung. To complete this labor, Herakles re-routed two entire rivers so that they would run through the stables and wash them clean.
The metope shows Herakles as he changes one of the river’s paths. He is mid-swing, about to drive his tool into the ground to reshape the water’s flow. In its original position on the temple, it would look as though Herakles was about to drive his tool into the neighboring triglyph and pry it off. Athena stands beside him, wearing her heavy dress and her helmet. Her presence indicates her support of Herakles, though once again she appears in a relaxed posture that contrasts with Herakles’s strenuous motion.
The sculptors’ decision to include the story of the Augean Stables in their series of metopes was an ingenious one. Legend tells us that one of the rivers that Herakles re-routed was the Alpheios River, a large waterway that flows through the Peloponnese, close to the sanctuary at Olympia. Once again, we see that the artisans who designed the architectural sculpture of the Temple of Zeus chose narratives that were especially relevant to their context. The great hero Herakles, who eventually became a god in part because of his great strength, was a popular figure amongst all ancient Greeks and a role model for the athletes who competed in the Olympic Games. Working in the Early Classical style, the sculptors made metopes that showed off Herakles’s physicality. Their work celebrates the achievements of this heroic son of Zeus and pointedly incorporates them into the temple’s structure and the sanctuary.
Site plan of the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia, with Pheidias’s workshop and the Temple of Zeus highlighted
Cult statue
Almost 30 years after the Temple of Zeus and its rich decorations were completed, sanctuary officials decided to add one more element to the structure. They hired Pheidias, the master sculptor who had recently created the cult statue of Athena Parthenos that stood in the Parthenon in Athens, to create a cult statue of Zeus for his temple at Olympia. Archaeologists have discovered the workshop Pheidias used while building his enormous gold and ivory statue of Zeus just behind the temple.
Reconstruction drawing of the statue of the Zeus within the Temple of Zeus at Olympia by Hermann Luckenbach, c. 1904
Pheidias’s statue of Zeus does not survive today, but ancient depictions and written descriptions of the image give us a sense of what it looked like. The statue was so large that the columns inside the Temple of Zeus had to be taken down and moved further apart to fit it. [27] Modern scholars who have converted ancient measurements of the statue suggest that the statue’s total height, including its base, was some 13.3 meters (43.64 feet), and that the base was about 6.6 meters (21.65 feet) wide. [28] The immense size of the statue, as well as the expensive materials of which it was made, would have made it even more awesome for ancient visitors to the temple.
Zeus was shown seated on a throne that was elaborately decorated with a number of mythical scenes. He held a small Nike in the palm of one hand and grasped a scepter with the other. He was shown with his chest and arms bare, while a cloak wrapped around the rest of his body. Pheidias’s decision to represent Zeus with a bare chest showed off the god’s physical perfection and emphasized the great cost of the statue, as his skin was made of ivory, a hugely expensive imported material. [29] The impressiveness of this statue of Zeus within the temple at Olympia is further indicated by the fact that it was considered one of the seven wonders of the ancient world.
This cult statue was the final addition to an already spectacular temple. Libon of Elis designed the temple, a Doric structure of great scale, to act as a focal point of worship in the sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia. His sculptors decorated it with images, both in the pediments and on the metopes. These sculptures tell stories of Greek triumphs, many of which are especially relevant to their Olympic, and more broadly, Peloponnesian context. It is probable that only a select few worshippers would have been allowed inside the temple, but even those who were not able to enter the temple would be able to view its rich exterior decoration. The Temple of Zeus, its decorations, and the cult statue that sat within it would have encouraged all visitors to the sanctuary at Olympia to consider the heroism and artistic prowess of the Greeks.
East and West Pediments from the Temple of Aphaia, Aegina
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Explore the evolution of ancient Greek sculpture with two groups from the same temple, but that seem ages apart.
Note: Recent scholarship suggests that both pediments of the Temple of Aphaia at Aegina were made at the same time in the Early Classical period, likely by two different workshops working in two different styles.
East and West Pediments from the Temple of Aphaia, Aegina, Archaic/Early Classical Periods, c. 490-480 B.C.E. (Glyptothek, Munich) URL: https://youtu.be/pdqOIg_QYSc
Free-Standing Sculpture
Contrapposto explained
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
A discussion about contrapposto while looking at “Idolino” from Pesaro, (Roman), c. 30 B.C.E., bronze, 158 cm (Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Firenze), speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/5vK7Z2Odnc0
Although these particular objects may not have been known in the Renaissance, the ideas and form of contrapposto were revived in the Italian Renaissance.
Kritios Boy
by DR. MONICA BULGER
Following war with the Persians, this highly naturalistic sculpture was buried out of respect.
Kritios Boy, from the Acropolis, Athens, c. 480–470 B.C.E., 4 feet high, marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens). Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris URL: https://youtu.be/Q5IWDhXtsmE
Photo of objects found on the Acropolis in Athens in the early 1860s (with the torso of the Kritios Boy visible at right), 1865, albumen silver print from glass negative, 27.7 x 21.8 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)
The head and torso of a famous ancient Greek sculpture were found separately on the Acropolis in Athens, in two different pits that were filled with dirt, rubble, and fragments of other statues. In the late 1800s, Greek architects and archaeologists who were preparing to build a new museum on the Acropolis discovered many ancient sculptures buried in such pits. [1] Ancient Athenians created these pits during the Classical period, sometime after the Persians invaded Athens and damaged the Acropolis in 480 B.C.E. While working to maintain and restore the Acropolis, they collected damaged statues and various pieces of refuse and buried them in pits across the sacred site. [2] Since the filling of these pits is composed of elements made at many different dates, it is difficult for archaeologists to determine when precisely the statues found within them were made. As a result, art historians and archaeologists still debate when one statue of a young nude boy that was found in two pieces was created. This statue, today known as the Kritios Boy, has a new sense of movement and liveliness that was not often seen in the Archaic period, suggesting that it was probably made in the earliest years of the Classical period, sometime between 480 and 470 B.C.E.
Kritios Boy, c. 480–470 B.C.E., marble, 4 feet high (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
From stiff steps to realistic shifting
The Kritios Boy is an under life size statue of a nude boy. In the Greek Archaic period, relatively rigid statues of nude young men known as kouroi (singular: kouros) were popular, and the Kritios Boy continued their lineage. Like most Archaic kouroi, the Kritios Boy is idealized and lacks easily identifiable individualistic characteristics, making it difficult to tell who exactly he represents. [3] However, he is far less stiff than his Archaic predecessors, such as the Anavysos Kouros.
Since the lower halves of the statue’s legs are not preserved, we can not tell exactly how they were positioned, but their imbalance is implied in the shifting movement of the Kritios Boy’s body. His right leg is bent and placed slightly ahead of his left leg, so that his left leg carries most of his weight. Reacting to this imbalance, his right hip is slightly lower than left hip, and his left shoulder is slightly lower than his right shoulder. This posture that shows the body in realistic movement is known as contrapposto. As he shifts his weight, the Kritios Boy appears to be on the brink of motion, preparing to take a step forward.
Left: Kritios Boy, c. 480–470 B.C.E., marble, 4 feet high (Acropolis Museum, Athens); right: Anavysos Kouros, c. 530 B.C.E., marble, 6 feet 4 inches high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Contrapposto is not apparent in Archaic kouroi. Comparing the Kritios Boy to a kouros made about 50 years earlier, during the Archaic period, reveals how much more naturalistic the Kritios Boy’s posture is. Both sculptures represent nude male youths with one leg advancing. The Anavysos Kouros places his left leg in front of his right, but his body remains completely stiff. His hips do not shift at all, nor do his shoulders. Instead, his upper body and arms remain perfectly still and symmetrical, embodying the Archaic ideal. In contrast, the Kritios Boy’s entire body shifts as he appears to move his weight off his right leg and onto his left leg, as if he is about to walk. His head turns to the right, making him appear more alert and lively. The movement in his hips and shoulders make his motion more believable. Even without knowing the original position of the Kritios Boy’s feet, we can appreciate the realistic imbalance that his shift in weight enacts. [4] This increased naturalism in the sculpture’s posture suggests that he was made after the end of the Archaic period, in the Early Classical period.
Head (detail), Kritios Boy, c. 480–470 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens; photo: Marsyas, CC BY-SA 2.5)
Early Classical style
More Early Classical stylistic features are apparent in the head of the Kritios Boy. Although his eyes are now hollow, they would have once been inlaid with glass or stone, which would have made the statue appear more lively. [5] The Kritios Boy’s expression is serious, with no hint of the smile we see in many Archaic figures. He has thick eyelids, flat cheeks, and a large chin. His hair is elaborately styled, with individual strands rolled up over a fillet that encircles his head. All of these physical characteristics of the Kritios Boy’s head are typical of the Severe Style, a representational style that was especially popular during the Greek Early Classical period. This too suggests that the Kritios Boy was sculpted after the end of the Archaic period.
Left: Head (detail), Kritios Boy, c. 480–470 B.C.E., marble (Acropolis Museum, Athens; photo: Marsyas, CC BY-SA 2.5); right: Kritios, head of one of the Tyrannicides (Harmodios), Roman copy (c. 100–200 C.E.) of Greek original (c. 477/476 B.C.E.), marble (National Archaeological Museum, Naples; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Kritios and the Kritios Boy
Kritios Boy, c. 480–470 B.C.E., marble, 4 feet high (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
The Kritios Boy also resembles a few other sculptures made during the Early Classical period, which further implies that he was made during that era. One such sculpture represented the Tyrannicides, two Athenians who were celebrated by their fellow citizens after they killed a tyrant who ruled Athens in the Archaic period. The Tyrannicides sculpture was made by two artists named Kritios and Nesiotes. Today, only Roman copies of the original Greek sculpture of the Tyrannicides survive, but there is a resemblance between the head of one of the men—the one sculpted by Kritios—and the head of the Kritios Boy. By looking more closely at the head of the Tyrannicide originally made by Kritios and the head of the Kritios Boy, we can better understand their similarities. The boys have similar flat cheeks, heavy chins, and thick eyelids. They have different hairstyles, but similar serious expressions. These similarities have led some scholars to suggest that the sculpture found on the Acropolis in the late 1800s was made by the artist Kritios, resulting in his modern name being the Kritios Boy. However, since no original Greek sculptures definitely sculpted by Kritios survive, we must be cautious when associating the statue found on the Acropolis with him. The Kritios Boy may have actually been made by a follower of Kritios, or someone working in a style quite similar to that of Kritios. [6]
Although we can’t be sure that the Kritios Boy was sculpted by Kritios himself, we can still appreciate the statue’s stylistic innovations. Rather than taking an impossibly rigid step forward like his Archaic predecessors, the Kritios Boy shifts his weight believably. His body curves realistically in response to his imbalanced posture. Since the Kritios Boy was found only partially preserved in a backfill with a jumble of other statues made at different times, we can’t rely on archaeological context to tell us when exactly he was made. Instead, we must rely on stylistic analysis to determine his date of creation. [7] The Kritios Boy’s naturalism, as well as his Severe Style facial features and expression, suggest that he was made during the Early Classical period, as a new representational style began to replace the relatively stiff style of the Archaic period.
Follow this link for the Video Transcript, Footnotes and Bibliography
This bronze god sank to the bottom of the sea where he sat for millennia, but who is he and what can he tell us?
Artemision Zeus or Poseidon, c. 460 B.C.E., bronze, 2.09 m high, Early Classical (Severe Style), recovered from a shipwreck off Cape Artemision, Greece in 1928 (National Archaeological Museum, Athens)
Click here for the Video Transcript. Source: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “Artemision Zeus or Poseidon,” in Smarthistory, December 15, 2015, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/artemision-zeus-or-poseidon/.
Riace Warriors
by DR. JEFFREY A. BECKER
Statue A (foreground) and Statue B (background), from the sea off Riace, Italy, c. 460–50 B.C.E. (?), Statue A, bronze, 198 cm high, Statue B, bronze, 197 cm high (Museo Archeologico Nazionale Reggio Calabria)
The discovery of the statues in 1972 (photo: MM)
The Riace Warriors (also referred to as the Riace bronzes or Bronzi di Riace) are two life-size Greek bronze statues of naked, bearded warriors. The statues were discovered by Stefano Mariottini in the Mediterranean Sea just off the coast of Riace Marina, Italy, on August 16, 1972. The statues are currently housed in the Museo Nazionale della Magna Grecia in the Italian city of Reggio Calabria. The statues are commonly referred to as “Statue A” and “Statue B” and were originally cast using the lost-wax technique.
Head and torso (detail), Statue A, from the sea off Riace, Italy, c. 460–50 B.C.E. (?), bronze, 198 cm high (Museo Archeologico Nazionale Reggio Calabria)
Statue A
Statue B, from the sea off Riace, Italy, c. 460–50 B.C.E. (?), bronze, 197 cm high (Museo Archeologico Nazionale Reggio Calabria)
Statue A stands 198 centimeters tall and depicts the younger of the two warriors. His body exhibits a strong contrapposto stance, with the head turned to his right. Attached elements have been lost—most likely a shield and a spear; his now-lost helmet atop his head may have been crowned by a wreath. The warrior is bearded, with applied copper detail for the lips and the nipples. Inset eyes also survive for Statue A. The hair and beard have been worked in an elaborate fashion, with exquisite curls and ringlets.
Statue B
Statue B depicts an older warrior and stands 197 centimeters tall. A now-missing helmet likely was perched atop his head. Like Statue A, Statue B is bearded and in a contrapposto stance, although the feet of Statue B and set more closely together than those of Statue A.
Severe style
The Severe or Early Classical style describes the trends in Greek sculpture between c. 490 and 450 B.C.E. Artistically this stylistic phase represents a transition from the rather austere and static Archaic style of the sixth century B.C.E. to the more idealized Classical style. The Severe style is marked by an increased interest in the use of bronze as a medium as well as an increase in the characterization of the sculpture, among other features.
Statue B (detail), from the sea off Riace, Italy, c. 460–50 B.C.E. (?), bronze, 197 cm high (Museo Archeologico Nazionale Reggio Calabria)
Interpretation and chronology
The chronology of the Riace warriors has been a matter of scholarly contention since their discovery. In essence there are two schools of thought—one holds that the warriors are fifth century B.C.E. originals that were created between 460 and 420 B.C.E., while another holds that the statues were produced later and consciously imitate Early Classical sculpture. Those that support the earlier chronology argue that Statue A is the earlier of the two pieces. Those scholars also make a connection between the warriors and the workshops of famous ancient sculptors. For instance, some scholars suggest that the sculptor Myron crafted Statue A, while Alkamenes created Statue B. Additionally, those who support the earlier chronology point to the Severe Style as a clear indication of an Early Classical date for these two masterpieces.
The art historian B. S. Ridgway presents a dissenting view, contending that the statues should not be assigned to the fifth century B.C.E., arguing instead that they were most likely produced together after 100 B.C.E. Ridgway feels that the statues indicate an interest in Early Classical iconography during the Hellenistic period.
In terms of identifications, there has been speculation that the two statues represent Tydeus (Statue A) and Amphiaraus (Statue B), two warriors from Aeschylus’ tragic play, Seven Against Thebes (about Polyneices after the fall of his father, King Oedipus),and may have been part of a monumental sculptural composition. A group from Argos described by Pausanias (the Greek traveler and writer) is often cited in connection to this conjecture: “A little farther on is a sanctuary of the Seasons. On coming back from here you see statues of Polyneices, the son of Oedipus, and of all the chieftains who with him were killed in battle at the wall of Thebes…” [1]
A conjectural restored view of the two warriors (image: Leomonaci121198)
The statues have lead dowels installed in their feet, indicating that they were originally mounted on a base and installed as part of some sculptural group or other. The art historian Carol Mattusch argues that not only were they found together, but that they were originally installed—and perhaps produced—together in antiquity.
Click here for further resources. Source: Dr. Jeffrey A. Becker, “Riace Warriors,” in Smarthistory, August 8, 2015, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/riace-warriors/.
by BETH HARRIS, DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. RACHEL KOUSSER
Learn about the great temple of Athena, patron of Athens, and the building’s troubled history.
Iktinos and Kallikrates (sculptural program directed by Phidias), Parthenon, 447–432 B.C.E. (Athens). Speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/tWDflkBZC6U
The Acropolis of Athens viewed from the Hill of the Muses (photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
The Parthenon, as it appears today on the summit of the Acropolis, seems like a timeless monument—one that has been seamlessly transmitted from its moment of creation, some two and a half millennia ago, to the present. But this is not the case. In reality, the Parthenon has had instead a rich and complex series of lives that have significantly affected both what is left, and how we understand what remains.
Iktinos and Kallikrates, Parthenon, Acropolis, Athens, 447–432 B.C.E. (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
It is illuminating to examine the Parthenon’s ancient lives: its genesis in the aftermath of the Persian sack of the Acropolis in 490 B.C.E.; its accretions in the Hellenistic and Roman eras; and its transformation as the Roman empire became Christian. Why was the building created, and how was it understood by its first viewers? How did its meanings change over time? And why did it remain so important, even in Late Antiquity, that it was converted from a polytheist temple into a Christian church?
Investigating the many lives of the Parthenon has much to tell us about how we perceive (and misperceive) this famous ancient monument. It is also relevant to broader debates about monuments and cultural heritage. In recent years, there have been repeated calls to tear down or remove contested monuments, for instance, statues of Confederate generals in the southern United States. While these calls have been condemned by some as ahistorical, the experience of the Parthenon offers a different perspective. What it suggests is that monuments, while seemingly permanent, are in fact regularly altered; their natural condition is one of adaptation, transformation, and even destruction.
When Persians sacked Athens, they destroyed or damaged many sculptures, including the now-famous Calf-Bearer (today in the Acropolis Museum). Athenians buried many of these sculptures in a pit, which were not uncovered until the 19th century. Unknown photographer, The Calf-Bearer and the Kritios Boy Shortly After Exhumation on the Acropolis, 1865, albumen silver print from glass negative, 27.7 x 21.8 cm (The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York)
The Moschophoros or Calf-bearer, c. 570 B.C.E., marble 165 m high (Museum of the Acropolis of Athens; photo: Marysas, CC BY-SA 2.5)
The genesis of the Parthenon, 480–432 B.C.E.
The Parthenon we see today was not created ex novo. Instead, it was the final monument in a series, with perhaps as many as three Archaic predecessors. The penultimate work in this series was a marble building, almost identical in scale and on the same site as the later Parthenon, initiated in the aftermath of the First Persian War.
In the war in 492–490 B.C.E., Athens played a central role in the defeat of the Persians. Thus it is not surprising that ten years later when the Persians returned to Greece, they made for Athens; nor that, when they took the city, they sacked it with particular fervor. In the sack, they paid special attention to the Acropolis, Athens’s citadel. The Persians not only looted the rich sanctuaries at the summit, but also burned buildings, overturned statues, and smashed pots.
When the Athenians returned to the ruins of their city, they faced the question of what to do with their desecrated sanctuaries. They had to consider not only how to commemorate the destruction they had suffered, but also how to celebrate, through the rebuilding, their eventual victory in the Persian Wars.
Remains of materials from the temples destroyed during the Persian sack of the Acropolis, such as column-drums (shown here) and a triglyph-metope frieze, were incorporated into the North Wall (photo: Gary Todd)
The Athenians found no immediate solution to their challenge. Instead, for the next thirty years they experimented with a range of strategies to come to terms with their history. They left the temples themselves in ruins, despite the fact that the Acropolis continued to be a working sanctuary. They did, however, rebuild the walls of the citadel, incorporating within them some fire-damaged materials from the destroyed temples. They also created a new, more level surface on the Acropolis through terracing; in this fill, they buried all the sculptures damaged in the Persian sack. These actions, most likely initiated in the immediate aftermath of the destruction, were the only major interventions on the Acropolis for over thirty years.
Plan of the Older Parthenon (in black) superimposed on that of the Parthenon (in gray). Plan by Maxime Collignon
In the mid-fifth century B.C.E., the Athenians decided, finally, to rebuild. On the site of the great marble temple burned by the Persians, they constructed a new one: the Parthenon we know today. They set it on the footprint of the earlier building, with only a few alterations; they also re-used in its construction every block from the Older Parthenon that had not been damaged by fire. In their recycling of materials, the Athenians saved time and expense, perhaps as much as one-quarter of the cost of construction.
The Older Parthenon foundation is located below the newer construction (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
At the same time, their re-use had advantages beyond the purely pragmatic. As they rebuilt on the footprint of the damaged temple and re-used its blocks, the Athenians could imagine that the Older Parthenon was reborn—larger and more impressive, but still intimately connected to the earlier sanctuary.
Battle of the Lapiths and Centaurs, Parthenon Metopes, south flank, marble, c. 440 B.C.E., Classical Period (British Museum, London; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
While the architecture of the Parthenon referenced the past through re-use, the sculptures on the building did so more allusively, re-telling the history of the Persian Wars through myth. This re-telling is clearest on the metopes that decorated the exterior of the temple. These metopes had myths, for instance, the contest between men and centaurs, that recast the Persian Wars as a battle between good and evil, civilization and barbarism.
The metopes did not, however, depict this battle as one of effortless victory. Instead, they showed the forces of civilization challenged and sometimes overcome: men wounded, struggling, even crushed by the barbaric centaurs. In this way, the Parthenon sculptures allowed the Athenians to acknowledge both their initial defeat and their eventual victory in the Persian Wars, distancing and selectively transforming history through myth.
Thus even in what might commonly be understood as the moment of genesis for the Parthenon, we can see the beginning of its many lives, its shifting significance over time. Left in ruins from 480 to 447 B.C.E., it was a monument directly implicated in the devastating sack of the Acropolis at the onset of the Second Persian War. As the Parthenon was rebuilt over the course of the following fifteen years, it became one that celebrated the successful conclusion to that war, even while acknowledging its suffering. This transformation in meaning presaged others to come, more nuanced and then more radical.
Hellenistic and Roman adaptations
By the Hellenistic era if not before, the Parthenon had taken on a canonical status, appearing as an authoritative monument in a manner familiar to us today. It was not, however, untouchable. Instead, precisely because of its authoritative status, it was adapted, particularly by those who sought to present themselves as the inheritors of Athens’ mantle.
The Parthenon was altered by a series of aspiring monarchs, both Hellenistic and Roman. Their goal was to pull the monument, anchored in the canonical past, toward the contemporary. They did so above all by equating later victories with Athens’ now-legendary struggles against the Persians.
We can still see traces of the Persian shields from Alexander the Great that were at one point below the metopes. The blue circles indicate roughly were they would have been located (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The first of these aspiring monarchs was the Macedonian king Alexander the Great. As he sought to conquer the Achaemenid Empire—alleging, as one casus belli, the Persian destruction of Greek sanctuaries one hundred and fifty years earlier—Alexander made good propagandistic use of the Parthenon. After his first major victory over the Persians in 334 B.C.E., the Macedonian king sent to Athens three hundred suits of armor and weapons taken from his enemies. Likely with Alexander’s encouragement, the Athenians used them to adorn the Parthenon. There are still faint traces of the shields, once prominently placed just below the metopes on the temple’s exterior. Melted down long ago due to their valuable metal content, the shields must have been a highly visible memento of Alexander’s victory—and also of Athens’ subordination to his rule.
Wounded Gaul, from the Small Pergamene Votive Offering, Roman copy of the 2nd century C.E. from a Greek original of the 2nd century B.C.E. (Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples)
Some two centuries later, another Hellenistic monarch set up a larger and more artistically ambitious dedication on the Acropolis. Erected just to the south of the Parthenon, the monument celebrated the Pergamene kings’ victory over the Gauls in 241 B.C.E. It also suggested that this recent success was equivalent to earlier mythological and historical victories, with monumental sculptures that juxtaposed Gallic battles with those of gods and giants, men and Amazons, and Greeks and Persians. Like the shield dedication of Alexander, the Pergamene monument made good use of its placement on the Acropolis. The dedication highlighted connections between the powerful new monarchs of the Hellenistic era and the revered city-state of Athens, paying homage to Athens’ history while appropriating it for new purposes.
Holes for bronze letters of an inscription honoring the Roman emperor Nero on the east façade of the Parthenon, created and then removed in the 60s C.E. (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
A final royal intervention to the Parthenon came in the time of the Roman emperor Nero. This was an inscription on the east facade of the Parthenon, created with large bronze letters in between Alexander’s previously dedicated shields. The inscription recorded Athen’s vote in honor of the Roman ruler, and was likely put up in the early 60s C.E.; it was subsequently taken down following Nero’s assassination in 68. The inscription honored Nero by connecting him to Athens and to Alexander the Great, a model for the young philhellenic emperor. Its removal offered a different message. It was a deliberate and very public erasure of the controversial ruler from the historical record. In this, Nero’s inscription (and its removal) was perhaps the most striking rewriting of the Parthenon’s history—at least until Christian times.
Reviewing the Hellenistic and Roman adaptations of the Parthenon, it is easy to see them purely as desecrations: appropriations of a religious monument for political and propagandistic purposes. And the speedy removal of Nero’s inscription does support this reading, at least for the visually aggressive strategies of the Roman emperor. At the same time, the changes of the Hellenistic and Roman eras are also testimony to the continued vitality of the sanctuary. Due to the prestige of the Parthenon, formidable monarchs sought to stake their visual claims to power on what was by now a very old monument, over four centuries old by the time of Nero. By altering the temple and updating its meanings, they kept it young.
Marble closure slab with relief cross, from the pulpit of the Christian Parthenon, 5th–6th century (Byzantine and Christian Museum, Athens (photo: George E. Koronaios, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Early Christian transformations
In ancient times, the most radical and absolute transformation of the Parthenon came as the Roman empire became Christian. At that point, the temple of Athena Parthenos was turned into an Early Christian church dedicated to the Theotokos (Mother of God). As with the rebuilding of the Parthenon in the mid-fifth century B.C.E., the decision to put a Christian church on the site of Athena’s temple was not just pragmatic but programmatic.
Reconstruction drawing of the church inside the Parthenon by M. Korres from Panayotis Tournikiotis, The Parthenon and Its Impact in Modern Times (New York, 1996)
By transforming the polytheist sanctuary into a space of Christian worship, it provided a clear example of the victory of Christianity over traditional religion. At the same time, it also effectively removed, through re-use, an important and long-enduring center of polytheist cult. This removal through re-use was a characteristic strategy used by the Christians throughout the Roman Empire, from Turkey to Egypt to the German frontier. In all these places, it formed part of the often violent, yet imperially sanctioned, transition from polytheism to Christianity.
The Christian transformation of the Parthenon involved considerable adaptation of its architecture. The Christians needed a large interior space for congregation, unlike the polytheists, whose most important ceremonies took place at a separate altar, outdoors. To repurpose the building, the Christians renovated the inner cella of the Parthenon. They detached it from its exterior colonnade, added an apse that broke through the columns at the east end, and removed from the interior the statue of Athena Parthenos that had been the raison d’étre of the polytheist temple.
Metope from the east side of the Parthenon showing the battle of men and Amazons, heavily cut down by early Christians (photo: Gary Todd)
An illustration showing the location of the pediment, metopes and frieze on the Parthenon.
Other sculptures from the Parthenon suffered likewise from the Christians’ attentions. Most of the metopes—the lowest down and most visible of the Parthenon’s sculptures—were cut away, rendering them difficult to interpret or to use as a focus of polytheist cult. Only the south metopes with the centaurs were spared, perhaps because they overlooked the edge of the Acropolis and were thus hard to see. By contrast, the frieze (hidden between the exterior and interior colonnades) was left almost entirely intact, as were the high-up pediments. The differentiated treatment of the various sculptures on the Parthenon suggests negotiation between traditionalists and the more fervent of the contemporary Christians. Polytheists perhaps sacrificed the relatively small-scale and blatantly mythological metopes to keep the larger, better quality sculptures elsewhere on the monument. Examining the frieze, about one hundred sixty meters long and almost perfectly preserved, it seems like the polytheists got a good deal.
19th-century photographs show the Frankish tower and Ottoman dome (not visible here) that was once part of the Acropolis. Normand Alfred Nicolas, The northwest side of the Acropolis and the surrounding area, 1851, photograph (Benaki Museum, Athens)
Conclusions
Within and beyond the ancient world, the Parthenon had many lives. Rather than ignoring them, it is useful to acknowledge these lives as contributions to the building’s extraordinary continuing vitality. At the same time, one might note that the biography of the Parthenon (though accessible to specialists) has been decidedly effaced by the way it is presented now. When contrasting its present-day state with the first photographs taken in the mid-nineteenth century, we can see how much has been intentionally removed: a Frankish tower by the entrance to the Acropolis, an Ottoman dome, mundane habitations.
Iktinos and Kallikrates, Parthenon, Acropolis, Athens, 447–432 B.C.E. (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
In its current iteration, the Acropolis has been returned to something resembling its pristine Classical condition, with no reconstructed monuments dating later than the end of the 5th century B.C.E. This feels like a loss: a retardataire effort to reinstate a selective, approved version of the past and to erase the traces of a more difficult and complex history. As such it stands as an example, and perhaps also a warning, for our current historical moment.
Source: Dr. Beth Harris, Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Rachel Kousser, “The Parthenon, Athens,” in Smarthistory, December 14, 2015, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/the-parthenon-athens/.
Phidias, Parthenon sculpture (pediments, metopes and frieze)
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Discover stunning depictions of gods, heroes, and mythical beasts in the most influential sculptures in history.
Phidias(?), Parthenon sculptures, frieze: 438-432 B.C.E., pediment: c. 438-432 B.C.E. and metopes: c. 447-32 B.C.E. Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris URL: https://youtu.be/uF_W0jQ7bi0
Source: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “Phidias, Parthenon sculpture (pediments, metopes and frieze),” in Smarthistory, November 25, 2015, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/parthenon-frieze/.
Who owns the Parthenon sculptures?
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
Ancient Greeks made them, Ottomans captured them, Venetians blew them up, and the British took them away.
Phidias(?), Parthenon sculptures, frieze: 438-432 B.C.E., pediment: c. 438-432 B.C.E. and metopes: c. 447-32 B.C.E., an ARCHES video. Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris URL: https://youtu.be/QRH105_ztAw
Source: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “The Erechtheion,” in Smarthistory, December 16, 2015, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/the-erechtheion/.
Caryatid and Ionic Column from the Erechtheion
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
These graceful female figures replace columns—how did human form and architecture relate in ancient Greece?
Caryatid (South Porch) and Ionic Column (North Porch), Erechtheion on the Acropolis, Athens, marble, 421-407 B.C.E., Classical Period (British Museum, London). Mnesicles may have been the architect. https://youtu.be/X872rmThCF8
The caryatid
The Erechtheion is perhaps the most complex building on the Acropolis. It houses shrines to several different deities, including Athena, Zeus and Poseidon. It is named for the mythic King Erechtheus who judged the contest between Athena and Poseidon for who would be the patron deity of Athens.
This caryatid is one of six elegant female figures who supported the roof of the south porch of the Erechtheion (figures who do the work of columns—carrying a roof—are called caryatids). The figure wears a garment pinned on the shoulders (this is a peplos—a kind of garment worn by women in ancient Greece). The drapery bunches up at the waist and pours over the belt. She stands in contrapposto with her left knee bent and pressing against the drapery The folds of drapery on other right side resemble the fluting (vertical grooves) on a column. She looks noble and calm despite the fact that she carries the weight of a roof on her head.
Ionic Column (North Porch), Erechtheion on the Acropolis, Athens, marble, 421-407 B.C.E., Classical Period (British Museum, London). Mnesicles may have been the architect.
The column
The Erechtheion is a highly decorated and elegant Ionic temple. The scroll forms at the top of the column (the capital) and its tall slender profile indicate that this is the Ionic order. The column is formed of four pieces (known as “drums”) and is fluted (decorated with vertical grooves). Just below the scroll shapes (also called volutes) you see decorative moldings, including one called “egg and dart” (egg shapes alternating with V-shapes), and below that a ring of plant-like shapes—an alternating palmette and lotus pattern.
These decorative patterns also appear on the entablature of the Erechtheion (the entablature is the horizontal area carried by the columns).
Entablature from the Erechtheion, Acropolis, Athens, marble, 421-407 B.C.E. (British Museum, London)
Temple of Athena Nike, 421-05 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens
The temple of Athena Nike (Athena as a goddess of victory) is the smallest temple at the Acropolis in Athens, placed at its southwest corner, at the edge of a high cliff (see images above). Its construction was completed in the year 420 B.C.E., during the so called High Classical Period, according to the design of Kallikrates (the same architect who was responsible for the construction of the Parthenon). The temple by Kallikrates replaced an earlier small temple, which got completely destroyed during the Persian wars.
Reconstruction diagram of the Athenian Acropolis
The spot, highly vulnerable to attack but also well placed for defense, was very appropriate for the worship of the goddess of victory. There is some archaeological evidence, that the location was used for religious rituals already in Mycenaean age (Mycenaean was a period of early Greek history, roughly from 1600 to 1100 B.C.E.). Mycenaeans also raised the first defensive bastion on the spot; its fragments are preserved in the temple’s basement.
Temple of Athena Nike, 421-05 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens
An Ionic gem
The temple of Athena Nike, built in Ionic order of beautiful white Pentelic marble, has columns at the front and back but not on the sides of the cella; this kind of floor plan is called an amphiprostyle. Because of the small size of the structure, there are only four columns on each side. The columns are monolithic, which means that each one of them was made of a single block of stone (instead of horizontal drums, as it is in the case of the Parthenon).
Temple of Athena Nike, 421-05 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens
This small and elegant structure is sometimes called the pearl of the Acropolis, since it was designed and decorated with great care. For example, interestingly, its side columns have volutes both in the front and at the side, in order to create a pleasant view from any viewpoint. The Greeks considered their temples as a kind of monumental sculpture, which was supposed to be viewed from all sides and experienced in connection to its surroundings. The Romans later had a different concept—for them, the frontal view was most important (for example, the Roman Temple of Portunus).
Amphiprostyle plan of the Temple of Athena Nike
Another interesting detail is that the columns of the temple of Athena Nike are not as slender as those of many other Ionic buildings. Usually the proportions between the width and the height of an Ionic column was 1:9 or even 1:11. Here the proportion is 1:7—and the reason for that choice might have been the intention to create a harmonious whole with other buildings nearby. The temple of Athena Nike stands just next to the Propylaea (below), a heavy, monumental gateway to the Acropolis, built in the Doric order. To visually counteract this massive structure, the architect may have decided to widen the columns, otherwise the building might feel out of place, and too delicate in contrast to the neighboring architectural mass of the Propylaea. We know that the ancient Greeks were very aware of mathematical ratios while constructing architecture or creating statues, feeling that the key to beauty lies in correct proportion.
Mnesikles, The Propylaea, 437-32 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens
Victory
The temple of Athena Nike, as with all Greek temples, was considered a home of the deity, represented in its statue, and was not a place where regular people would enter. The believers would simply perform rituals in front of the temple, where a small altar was placed, and could take a glimpse of the sculpted figure of the goddess through the space between the columns. The privilege of entering the temple was reserved for the priestesses, who held a respected position in Greek society. As the name suggests, the temple housed the statue of Athena Nike, a symbol of victory. It probably had a connection to the victory of the Greeks against the Persians around half a century earlier. Nike usually had wings, but in this case we know that the statue had no wings, hence it was called Athena Apteros (without wings). The ancient Greek writer Pausanias later explained that the statue of Athena had no wings, so that she could never leave Athens.
Temple of Athena Nike, 421-05 B.C.E., marble, Acropolis, Athens
The history of this architectural monument has been quite tumultuous. In the 5th century C.E. the temple was converted into a Christian church, then in the 17th century it was completely dismantled by the Ottoman Turks who needed its material to build fortifications. The temple was later reconstructed after Greece regained independence in 1832. In the 1930s the building was restored again. Very recently, new concerns about the structure’s integrity prompted a new conservation project. First, a team of specialists completely dismantled the temple. Each of its parts was examined and mended, and eventually the entire building was reassembled using the original pieces, with some fill wherever it was needed. These additions can be easily recognized since they are of a lighter color than the original marble.
Nike Adjusting Her Sandal (detail), south side of the parapet of the Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens, Greece, c. 410 B.C.E., marble, 3′ 6″ high (Acropolis Museum, Athens)
The temple of Athena Nike featured beautiful sculptural decoration, including a typical continuous Ionic frieze, which on the eastern side represented a gathering of gods. On the southern wall, the sculptor decided to show a battle between Greeks and Persians, and on the remaining sides, battles between Greeks and other warriors. Sculptures on the pediments, almost entirely lost, most probably depicted the Gigantomachy and Amazonomachy. Best known are reliefs from the outside of the stone parapet that surrounded the temple at the cliff’s edge. These represented Nike in different poses and could be admired by people climbing the stairs to the Acropolis. Most famous of these is the Nike Adjusting Her Sandal (above) which presents the goddess in a simple, everyday gesture, perhaps adjusting her sandal (or maybe taking it off) as she prepares to enter the sacred precinct. Whatever she is doing, the relief is still charming in its elegance and simplicity. Both Nike Adjusting Her Sandal and parts of the frieze can be admired today at the Acropolis Museum.
Source: Katarzyna Minollari, “Temple of Athena Nike on the Athenian Acropolis,” in Smarthistory, September 11, 2016, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/temple-nike/.
Nike Adjusting Her Sandal, Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
Compare this off-balance image of the goddess of victory to earlier classical sculpture.
Nike Adjusting Her Sandal, from the south side of the parapet of the Temple of Athena Nike, Acropolis, Athens, Greece, c. 410 B.C.E., marble, 3′ 6″ high (Acropolis Museum, Athens) URL: https://youtu.be/B4HXrb8cPQI
For the ancient Greeks, the human body was perfect. Explore this example of the mathematical source of ideal beauty.
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Polykleitos, Doryphoros (Spear-Bearer), Roman marble copy after a Greek bronze original from c. 450–440 B.C.E. (Museo Archaeologico Nazionale, Naples). Speakers: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris
When we study ancient Greek art, so often we are really looking at ancient Roman art, or at least their copies of ancient Greek sculpture (or paintings and architecture for that matter).
Basically, just about every Roman wanted ancient Greek art. For the Romans, Greek culture symbolized a desirable way of life—of leisure, the arts, luxury and learning.
Polykleitos, Doryphoros (Spear-Bearer) or Canon, Roman marble copy of a Greek bronze, c. 450–440 B.C.E. (Museo Archaeologico Nazionale, Naples; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The popularity of ancient Greek art for the Romans
Greek art became the rage when Roman generals began conquering Greek cities (beginning in 211 B.C.E.), and returned triumphantly to Rome not with the usual booty of gold and silver coins, but with works of art. This work so impressed the Roman elite that studios were set up to meet the growing demand for copies destined for the villas of wealthy Romans. The Doryphoros was one of the most sought after, and most copied, Greek sculptures.
Example of original Greek bronze sculpture, Antikythera Youth, 340–330 B.C.E., bronze, 1.96 m high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens, photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Bronze versus marble
For the most part, the Greeks created their free-standing sculpture in bronze, but because bronze is valuable and can be melted down and reused, sculpture was often recast into weapons. This is why so few ancient Greek bronze originals survive, and why we often have to look at ancient Roman copies in marble (of varying quality) to try to understand what the Greeks achieved.
Detail showing hand where bronze spear was once held, Polykleitos, Doryphoros (Spear-Bearer) or Canon, Roman marble copy of a Greek bronze, c. 450–440 BCE (Museo Archaeologico Nazionale, Naples; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Why sculptures are often incomplete or reconstructed
To make matter worse, Roman marble sculptures were buried for centuries, and very often we recover only fragments of a sculpture that have to be reassembled. This is the reason you will often see that sculptures in museums include an arm or hand that are modern recreations, or that ancient sculptures are simply displayed incomplete.
The Doryphoros (Spear-Bearer) in the Naples museum (image above) is a Roman copy of a lost Greek original that we think was found, largely intact, in the provincial Roman city of Pompeii. [1]
The canon
The idea of a canon, a rule for a standard of beauty developed for artists to follow, was not new to the ancient Greeks. The ancient Egyptians also developed a canon. Centuries later, during the Renaissance, Leonardo da Vinci investigated the ideal proportions of the human body with his Vitruvian Man .
Polykleitos’s idea of relating beauty to ratio was later summarized by Galen, writing in the second century,
Beauty consists in the proportions, not of the elements, but of the parts, that is to say, of finger to finger, and of all fingers to the palm and the wrist, and of these to the forearm, and of the forearm to the upper arm, and of all the other parts to each other.GALEN, DE PLACITIS HIPPOCRATIS ET PLATONIS
Notes:
[1] Recent scholarship suggests that the Doryphoros sculpture in the Naples museum may not have been found in a Palestra at Pompeii. See Warren G. Moon, editor, Polykleitos, The Doryphoros and Tradition (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1995).
See the mastery of form developed in the Classical period translated to private art on this solemn gravestone.
Grave stele of Hegeso, c. 410 B.C.E., marble and paint, from the Dipylon Cemetery, Athens, 5′ 2″ (National Archaeological Museum, Athens)URL: https://youtu.be/YUzsxLi43gE
Capitoline Venus (copy of the Aphrodite of Knidos)
Sculpture
The Alexander Sarcophagus
by DR. ELIZABETH MACAULAY and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Alexander the Great conquered the known world, but who was this monument for and what does it symbolize?
The Alexander Sarcophagus, c. 312 B.C.E., Pentelic marble and polychromy, found in Sidon, 195 x 318 x 167 cm (İstanbul Archaeological Museums) URL: https://youtu.be/kxiaae0HIBs
The Antikythera Youth, 340-330 B.C.E., bronze, 1.96 m high (National Archaeological Museum, Athens), an ARCHES video speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/qdTA63dYh08
Source: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “The Antikythera Youth,” in Smarthistory, July 19, 2020, accessed September 25, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/antikythera-youth/.
Lysippos, Apoxyomenos (Scraper)
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Ancient Greek athletes cleaned themselves with oil. This sculpture shows one athlete’s bathing ritual.
Lysippos, Apoxyomenos (Scraper), Roman copy after a bronze statue from c. 330 B.C.E., 6′ 9″ high (Vatican Museums)
Capitoline Venus (copy of the Aphrodite of Knidos)
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
Aphrodite, goddess of love and beauty, emerges from her bath, but what did her nudity mean to the Greeks?
Capitoline Venus, 2nd century C.E., marble, 193 cm (Capitoline Museums, Rome) (Roman copy of the Aphrodite of Knidos, a 4th century B.C.E. Greek original by Praxiteles) URL: https://youtu.be/nI07zaDpnJU
Following the death of Alexander the Great, Greek influence stretched as far east as modern India. While some artists intentionally mimicked the Classical style of the previous period, other artists were more interested in capturing motion and emotion. This three-hundred-year period was one of artistic vibrance and immense cultural influence.
Dying Gaul and Ludovisi Gaul – and The Dying Gaul Reconsidered
Bronze Statue of Eros sleeping
Nike (Winged Victory) of Samothrace
Apollonius, Boxer at Rest (aka The Seated Boxer)
Spinario (Boy with Thorn)
Alexander Mosaic
Laocoon and his Sons
Empire and Art in the Hellenistic world (c. 350–31 B.C.E.)
by DR. AMANDA HERRING
In contrast to the earlier Classical period, art of the Hellenistic period (c. 323–31 B.C.E.) has not been universally revered in modern art history. Beginning with Johann Joachim Winckelmann in the eighteenth century and continuing into the twentieth century, scholars referred to the period as one of decline and decadence. Yet, this approximately three-hundred-year period was one of artistic vibrance and immense cultural influence. In the twenty-first century, this period is finally beginning to see a revision in its reputation. Art historians and archaeologists are now recognizing the diversity and significance of the art produced in an era defined by conquest and war, cultural imperialism, dramatic and expensive art and architecture, and the transmission of art and ideas across large areas.
The chapter is framed by the rise of two empires, that of Macedonia in the fourth century B.C.E. and that of Rome in the second and first centuries B.C.E. At the beginning of the fourth century, people who identified as Greek lived across the eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea, and after the conquests of Alexander the Great and the establishment of Hellenistic kingdoms at the end of the century, Greek cities were established in Europe, north Africa, and Asia as far east as Bactria (modern Afghanistan). This chapter is organized primarily thematically, considering art and architecture within its original historical context.
Conquests of Philip and Alexander
After Philip II, king of Macedonia, came to power in 359 B.C.E., he began to expand his rule south into mainland Greece through a combination of diplomatic and military efforts. Ancient Macedonia, which occupied a territory in the northeastern Greek peninsula that today is divided primarily between the modern countries of Greece and North Macedonia, had a hereditary monarchy as its governmental system, contrasting to the city-states (poleis) of southern Greece.
There were cultural differences between the southern Greeks and Macedonians as well. Macedonian Greek was its own dialect, and the cultural institutions that surrounded their monarchy, with its associated societal hierarchy, set them apart.
Evidence of this cultural and political system can be seen in the lavishly decorated tombs filled with rich grave goods found at a number of sites in Macedonia, notably the royal burials at Vergina (ancient Aigai), as well as the monumental architecture built for the king and his court, such as the palace and other buildings at Pella with their impressive pebble mosaics.
After the Battle of Chaironeia in 338 (when Philip’s army defeated combined Athenian and Theban forces), Philip gained control of most of Greece. Philip placed himself as the leader of the newly formed League of Corinth, which included all of the Greek states except Sparta. The stated goal of the federation was to preserve peace among the Greek cities, but this was enforced by Macedonian dominance and military might. At its first meeting, the league ratified Philip’s plan to invade the Persian Empire in retaliation for the Persian Wars in the previous century.
Philip was assassinated in 336 and unable to complete his plans. They were instead taken on by his son, Alexander (the Great), who ascended to the throne at the age of 20 after his father’s unexpected death. Over the next thirteen years until his own death in 323, Alexander and his army embarked on a military campaign of conquest that established Alexander’s rule over a territory of approximately two million square miles. It stretched from Greece and Egypt in the west across Mesopotamia and Persia and into Central Asia and India.
Alexander carefully cultivated his image as a god-like hero, founding cities he named after himself, and commissioning portraits. Alexander tightly controlled his imagery, allowing only one sculptor, Lysippos, and one painter, Apelles, to create portraits that depicted the king with distinct, idealized features as a young conqueror. While none of these original portraits have survived, the type was influential, shaping Greek portraiture for centuries. Alexander’s successors commissioned and displayed portraits of the king and ordered images of themselves that emulated those of Alexander in order to connect themselves with his glory. This was the case for one of the earliest surviving portraits of Alexander from the Alexander Sarcophagus, which most likely served as the burial place for a king of Sidon in Lebanon. He was a Phoenician king who owed his position to Alexander and commemorated this connection with Greek-style images of Greeks and Persians in battle or hunts on his sarcophagus.
Hellenistic Art and Changing Ideas of Greek Identity
Alexander’s empire only lasted as long as he lived, and after his death most of his territory was split between his generals, who each established their own kingdoms. For the next three hundred years, the eastern Mediterranean and much of West Asia were dominated by these kingdoms. Three major centers of power emerged: Egypt under the Ptolemies, the parts of West Asia under the Seleukids, and Greece and Anatolia, which saw various rulers, notably the Attalids of Pergamon. As the kings fought for dominance, warfare was nearly constant and the borders of their kingdoms changed regularly. Large, cosmopolitan cities like Antioch, Alexandria, and Pergamon emerged with diverse populations and wealthy upper classes.
As part of their establishment and maintenance of power, most Hellenistic rulers practiced cultural imperialism, promoting Greek language, culture, and religion in territories that previously did not identify as Greek. The period is now known as the Hellenistic period due to this spread of Greek (Hellenic) culture. Yet, this was not simply the imposition of Greek culture across passive, conquered peoples. These kings ruled over millions of people of different ethnicities who spoke numerous languages and worshiped various gods. The cultures, religions, and art of the conquered people influenced those of the conquerors in turn.
There is a large variation in what we identify as Hellenistic art, across the Hellenistic world and across the three centuries that we identify as the Hellenistic period. Yet, the Hellenistic world was intensely interconnected, with artistic ideas, trade, and people moving across huge swaths of territory. There were common cultural touchstones that connected these different areas, notably the spread of the common Greek language, the worship of Greek gods, and Greek artistic style and iconography. Yet, these were regularly re-interpreted on a local level by different populations, and the formation of art and identity was a constant negotiation that happened primarily on a local level. An examination of the funerary complex at Nemrut Dağ of Antiochos I, a king of Kommagnein the first century B.C.E., who traced his lineage from both Greek and Persian kings, provides an example of Hellenistic hybridity.
Architecture
The Pergamon Altar
by KARIN E. CHRISTIAENS
The Pergamon Altar, c. 200-150 B.C.E., 35.64 x 33.4 meters, Hellenistic Period (Pergamon Museum, Berlin); speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/L3SIooVHV8E
Acropolis, Pergamon, İzmir Province, Turkey (photo: Carol Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
But Ge [goddess of earth] . . . brought forth the giants, whom she had by Uranus [god of the sky]. These were matchless in the bulk of their bodies and invincible in their might; terrible of aspect did they appear, with long locks drooping from their head and chin, and with the scales of dragons for feet.—Apollodorus, Library 1.6.1
Pergamon Altar (today in the Pergamon Museum, Berlin, photo: Garret Ziegler, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)
The battle between the gods and giants
Battle between the Gods and Giants (detail), Krater with Gigantomacy scene, classical period, Ancient Greece (Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Madrid)
The ancient Greeks represented the mythological battle between the Olympian gods and the giants in a wide variety of media—from miniature engraved gemstones and vase paintings, to over-life-sized architectural sculptures.
Perhaps the most famous and well-preserved of these decorates the Pergamon Altar. The Altar once stood in a sacred precinct on the acropolis of the ancient city of Pergamon (on the west coast of modern-day Turkey), which was ruled by the Attalid dynasty from 282–133 B.C.E.
In comparison to other Hellenistic kingdoms (kingdoms formed after the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C.E. and stretching from the eastern Mediterranean to Central Asia), Pergamon emerged relatively late on the scene. Monumental building projects—including the Altar—served as an important way for the Attalids to stake their claim as legitimate inheritors of Alexander’s empire and, by extension, the legacy of Classical Greece.
In the early 20th century the Altar found a new home in Berlin, Germany—2,677 kilometers from its original location—where it has remained on view since 1930 as the centerpiece of the museum bearing its name (see end note below and learn more here about how the altar ended up in Berlin). [1]
Altar in the center foreground, model of the acropolis at Pergamon (c. 150 B.C.E.)
Front view, model, Pergamon Altar
The Altar’s architectural framework alone is impressive—it comprises a monumental Π-shaped structure surrounded by columns and accessed by a grand staircase. However, its most eye-catching feature is undoubtedly the frieze, a massive 113 meters long and 2.3 meters high marble high-relief that wraps around the building’s entire exterior and depicts the mythological battle between the Gods of Mount Olympus and Giants.
The battle, known as the gigantomachy—from the ancient Greek γίγαντες (“giants”) and μάχη (“battle”)—represented a crucial shift for the ancient Greeks: the old religion, which was rooted in the natural world (for example, Ge, the earth goddess and mother of the giants), was overthrown by the new, civilized order of the Olympian gods (for example, Zeus, Athena, and others). According to the myth, the gods received a prophecy that the giants could only be defeated with the help of a mortal. Zeus (assisted by Athena), called upon the hero Herakles who dealt the decisive blow by shooting them with arrows. [2] Over time, the visual tradition of the gigantomachy expanded to include the presence of other Greek heroes, who also aided the gods.
Viewing the Altar
The approach
Ancient viewers would have first approached the Altar from its rear, where the gigantomachy’s main protagonists—the god Zeus and goddess Athena assisted by the hero, Herakles—decisively defeat their giant antagonists. From this view, the figures in the relief appear inaccessible as they tower above—their over-life-sized bodies often twisting into near-impossible positions in the midst of battle. While the stepped platform made it possible to access the frieze up close, this would only have placed viewers in uncomfortable proximity to the immortal skirmish.
From left to right, figures associated with water: Nereus and Doris, Oceanos, and part of Tethys(?). North side of grand staircase, Pergamon Altar (photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
The sides of the altar
As visitors continued along either side of the Altar they encountered gods and goddesses thematically assembled (for example, the twin gods Apollo and Artemis with their mother Leto). Despite the Altar’s fragmentary state of preservation, many of the figures can be identified—now, as in ancient times—through inscriptions included above (in the case of the gods) and below (in the case of the giants) the frieze.
From left to right, figures associated with water: Nereus and Doris, Oceanos, and part of Tethys(?). Giants kneel further to the right. North side of grand staircase, Pergamon Altar (photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
The Front of the Altar
Once ancient viewers reached the Altar’s front the characters began to increasingly invade their space, projecting outwards to the point where some giants (such as those battling water divinities on the north side) even kneel on the steps. It’s as if they are inviting us to join the terrifying conflict as we ascend. Despite the immense number of figures on the frieze, each panel manages to offer new discoveries for its viewers.
A battle for Hellenistic times
This version of the gigantomachy is characteristic of the Hellenistic style (Greek art dating from c. 323 to 31 B.C.E.). It is highly dramatic, both in terms of the overtly exaggerated dynamism of the figures’ bodily positions and the pathos exhibited by their expressions. The frieze, and its enigmatic central characters, first draw viewers in via the two central panels featuring the god Zeus and the goddess Athena.
The goddess Athena grasps the giant Alkyoneos by his unruly wavy hair, pulling his face to the left. His right arm grasps in vain at Athena’s forearm. A serpent, the agent of Athena, restrains the giant’s body and simultaneously exposes his anatomy to the viewer. Alkyoneos kneels on his right leg, while his left leg extends outwards, crossing over Athena’s striding form. His face, with its wrinkled brow and open mouth, exaggerates his suffering. It is framed by the interlocked arms of giant and goddess as well as by the giant’s wings, which fill the top of the panel in low relief. Ge, goddess of the earth and mother of giants, emerges from the ground to beg for her son’s life. Notably, the earth goddess is the only figure to be identified with an inscription on the frieze itself (rather than above or below, as with the other gods and giants) emphasizing her role as an intermediary. Nevertheless, Nike, goddess of Victory, has already flown in to crown Athena, sealing Alkyoneos’ fate.
The giants from the Zeus panel are rendered from three distinct perspectives. One, directly to Zeus’ left, kneels on his left leg, his body not nearly as extended as Athena’s opponent. A second, furthest from Zeus, shows us his muscular back, buttocks, and serpentine legs as he turns toward the god with his bearded face in profile. The third, to Zeus’ right, has been pierced by Zeus’ weapon, the thunderbolt, and sits in profile view, wounded on the ground. Although barely preserved, just to the right of this wounded giant the figure of Herakles can be detected by a paw from the Nemean lion’s skin (an attribute of the Greek hero Herakles). Herakles’ essential role in the gigantomachy has been appropriately emphasized through his proximity to Zeus. (In fact, the Attalid’s choice to monumentalize this particular myth was likely tied to the presence of the Greek hero who was the father of Telephos, the mythological founder of Pergamon).
Just as impressive as their dynamic poses, these two panels depict a diversity of giant types—from human to animal. On the Altar, a giant could be fully humanized, and even wear armor. But many more are anguiform (snake-like) and some possess further animalistic features. A few, besides, are even more overtly animal-like, almost monstrous.
Detail of the north frieze showing the god Apollo and goddess Artemis advancing towards a fleeing giant, Siphnian Treasury, c. 530 B.C.E., Sanctuary of Apollo, Delphi, Greece (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Visual traditions of the gigantomachy
Some of the earliest representations of the gigantomachy, such as the frieze from the Treasury of the Siphnians at Delphi (c. 525 B.C.E.), appear to follow Hesiod’sTheogony, in which he describes the giants as born wearing “gleaming armor with long spears in their hands.” [3] For example, a detail from the north frieze shows the god Apollo and goddess Artemis advancing towards a fleeing giant, who turns back to look at them. The Archaic-style giants are uniformly depicted in armor (similar to the that worn by hoplites, the foot soldiers of ancient Greece) and face the gods almost as equals. To the left of this scene, a lion—pulling a goddess’s chariot—attacks a giant. The frieze is dominated by overlapping profiles of gods and giants who stride toward one another but there is little indication of physical engagement between the figures, save for the lion and the giant.
East metopes showing a portion of the gigantomachy, Iktinos and Kallikrates, Parthenon, Acropolis, Athens, 447–432 B.C.E. (photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Over time and in countless artworks, artists reimagined the gigantomachy to include a variety of characters, interactions, and attributes, eventually making the Pergamon Altar version possible. One of the most recognized examples of the gigantomachy, on the east metopes of the Parthenon (447–438 B.C.E.), promoted the Athenians as civilizers and preservers of Greek culture over the barbarous Persian forces. Following the Persian wars (545–448 B.C.E.) the attire of the giants changed to include animal skins (difficult to see on the metopes today). The Classical-style Parthenon metopes have evolved from the Archaic depictions of the Siphnian treasury to emphasize a clearer distinction between god and giant. The gods are generally portrayed above the giants; the giants have shed the majority of their hoplite armor in favor of donning animal skins and wielding rocks or clubs, which connect them to the natural world.
The Athenian Parthenon, and the city of Athens more broadly, became incredibly influential in both the Classical and later periods. Hellenistic rulers, including the Attalid kings of Pergamon, sought to emulate Athens and, significantly, forged visual connections between their own newly formed kingdoms and the established cities of mainland Greece. The Pergamene Acropolis contained numerous sculptural and architectural references to Athens, including an over life-sized marble copy of the colossal chryselephantine (gold and ivory) Athena Parthenos that once stood inside the Parthenon. The Altar too may have contained compositional allusions to the renowned Athenian temple, namely in the striding figures of Athena and Zeus, whose poses resemble that of Athena and Poseidon on its west pediment (see a reconstruction drawing of it here).
On the Parthenon, the Athenians used myths to provide commentaries on their contemporary reality. The barbaric giants, decisively defeated by the Olympian gods and assisted by Greek heroes, served as an appropriate visual metaphor for the Persians, who had desecrated the sacred sites of Greece including the Athenian Acropolis. Similarly, were the figures of giants on the Altar meant to evoke the enemies of Pergamon—the Gauls and the Macedonians?
From myth to reality: the Pergamon Altar as a victory monument
Prior to the construction of the Altar, the first king of Pergamon, Attalos I, set up monuments to commemorate his victory over the Gauls and legitimize his rule. The fact that his sons (Eumenes II and Attalos II) also fought the Gauls has prompted scholars to consider the Great Altar as another victory monument.
Left: Wounded Gaul from the monument of Attalos I (Roman copy, c. 3rd–2nd century B.C.E. (Musée du Louvre) ; right: detail of Zeus’ opponent (a giant), Pergamon Altar, c. 1971–39 B.C.E. (Staatliche Museen, Berlin)
Single figures of Gauls from the earlier victory monuments that survive in the form of Roman copies bear clear resemblance to the giants from the Altar frieze. Compare the thick, curly, wild locks of hair of the Wounded Gaul in the Louvre to that of a giant from the Zeus panel. The Gauls were known to have covered their hair with a watered down plaster mixture, giving it a thickened rough appearance. [4] While the giants on the Altar were not exact quotations of the Gauls, their agonized twisting figures likely reminded viewers of the earlier monuments, some of which were probably erected nearby.
Left: Helmeted giant striding forward with shield; right: trampled giant with shield, Pergamon Altar, c. 197–139 B.C.E. (Staatliche Museen, Berlin)
The armored giants in the frieze evoke comparison with another contemporary adversary. Two giants from its east side—one striding toward the goddess Artemis bearing a shield, and a second trampled beneath Hera’s chariot, also holding a shield—bear characteristically Macedonian armor. The shield of the trampled giant is adorned with a starburst, a common emblem of the Macedonians. [5]
The Altar is not alone in alluding to victory of Pergamon over the Macedonians—images of their armor also appear at the Sanctuary of Athena, located just north of the Altar precinct on the Pergamene acropolis. The emphatic inclusion of these attributes may have served as a means to quash rumors that Eumenes II was considering peace or an alliance after the Third Macedonian War (172–168 B.C.E.), in which the Attalids had fought alongside the Romans. Furthermore, it has been suggested that the Altar—similar to other multifunctional structures in cities and sanctuaries throughout the Greek world—also served as a treasury for arms and armor captured in the Gallic and Macedonian wars (among others). These reminders—both real and sculpted—would have strengthened viewers’ visual associations between the enemies of Pergamon and the giants on the Altar frieze.
As ancient visitors traversed from the rear to the front of the Altar they witnessed the metamorphosis of giants from overtly monstrous anguiform and animal-headed representations to fully anthropomorphic figures equipped with the arms and armor of Attalid enemies. [6] Taking its cue from the example of the Classical Parthenon, the Pergamon Altar went one step further in encouraging its viewers to visually compare contemporary adversaries with the fearsome giants. Ultimately, in conflating a mythological battle with contemporary Attalid victories the Altar elevated the triumph of Pergamon to that of the gods.
End note
The Pergamene Acropolis was first rediscovered as early as the 14th century when Cyriacus of Ancona, an Italian antiquarian, visited the ruins. However, the site remained unexcavated until the late 19th century when the German engineer, Carl Humann, was commissioned by the Ottoman Empire to survey the area for a road-building project. Sultan Abdul Hamid II allowed the Germans a permit to fund their own excavations at Pergamon, where archaeologists have continued to work for the past 140 years under the aegis of the German Archaeological Institute and with the permission of the Ministry of Culture and Tourism of the Republic of Turkey (for more information, see the Pergamon Excavation Project). Alexander Conze, director of the Berlin Antikensammlung (Collection of Classical Antiquities), oversaw the legal purchase and transport of the Altar, in its entirety, to Berlin, where it was first displayed in the Altes Museum until the Pergamon Museum was constructed. During World War II, the Altar was moved to a bunker for protection. At the conclusion of the war, the Soviet Union claimed the Altar and transferred it to St. Petersburg. It was eventually returned to Berlin in 1958. In the late 1990s, the Altar was part of a conversation about the repatriation of Turkish heritage. Since the modern Republic of Turkey was officially founded in 1923, the legality of some excavations and purchases conducted under the authority of the Ottoman Empire have been disputed (especially in cases where documentation hasn’t survived). However, unlike some other controversial objects remaining in foreign museums, the Altar’s acquisition has been accepted as legal by the Turkish government.
Notes
[1] As of writing, the Pergamon Museum is currently under renovations until 2024. The Altar is not currently on view, but initiatives have been taken to make the altar accessible to the public through a 3D model and temporary exhibition building featuring a panorama of the city in Roman times.
[2] Apollodorus, Library, In Loeb Classical Library, translated by Sir James George Frazer (New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1921) 1.6.1-2.
[3] Hesiod, Theogony, translated by M.L. West (New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), pp. 173–206.
[4] Bernard Andreae, “Dating and Significance of the Telephos frieze in Relation to the Other Dedications of the Attalids of Pergamon,” In Pergamon: The Telephos Frieze from the Great Altar, edited by R. Dreyfus and E. Schraudolph (San Francisco: Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco, 1996-1997), pp. 122–123.
[5] ]For example, the star also adorned Macedonian coinage, such as on a silver tetradrachm struck under Philip V (186/5–183/2 B.C.E.), now at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.
[6] Emma Aston, Mixanthrôpoi: Animal-human hybrid deities in Greek religion (Liège: Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique, 2011), p. 19. She argues that three themes are often used to address the animal/human relationship: “combat, bestiality, and metamorphosis.”
The mausoleum of Antiochus I (69–34 B.C.E.), who reigned over Commagene, a kingdom founded north of Syria and the Euphrates after the breakup of Alexander’s empire, is one of the most ambitious constructions of the Hellenistic period. The syncretism of its pantheon, and the lineage of its kings, which can be traced back through two sets of legends, Greek and Persian, is evidence of the dual origin of this kingdom’s culture.
The mausoleum of Antiochus I (69–34 B.C.E.), who reigned over Commagene, a kingdom founded north of Syria and the Euphrates after the breakup of Alexander’s empire, is one of the most ambitious constructions of the Hellenistic period. The syncretism of its pantheon, and the lineage of its kings, which can be traced back through two sets of legends, Greek and Persian, is evidence of the dual origin of this kingdom’s culture.
Would you believe that this ancient Greek statue was found at the bottom of the ocean by fishermen in the 1960s? What was once a shining emblem of Olympic achievement underwent a physical transformation and now tells of its journey far from home.
A conversation with Dr. Kenneth Lapatin, Curator of Antiquities, Getty Museum and Dr. Beth Harris, Executive Director, Smarthistory, in front of Statue of a Victorious Youth, Greek, c. 300–100 B.C.E. Bronze with inlaid copper, 151.5 x 70 x 27.9 cm. Getty Museum, Los Angeles. URL: https://youtu.be/LhL7S8KccDk
Source: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “Barberini Faun,” in Smarthistory, December 9, 2015, accessed September 30, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/barberini-faun/.
Dying Gaul and Ludovisi Gaul
by DR. STEVEN ZUCKER and DR. BETH HARRIS
Pain is visible on the face of this dying warrior. Did the ancient Greeks sympathize with their defeated enemies?
Dying Gaul and the Gaul killing himself and his wife (The Ludovisi Gaul), both 1st or 2nd century C.E. (Roman copies of Third Century B.C.E. Hellenistic bronzes commemorating Pergamon’s victory over the Gauls likely from the Sanctuary of Athena at Pergamon), marble, 93 and 211 cm high (Musei Capitolini and Palazzo Altemps, Museo Nazionale Romano, Rome) URL: https://youtu.be/in6iDVnTw-k
Source: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Dying Gaul and Ludovisi Gaul,” in Smarthistory, November 18, 2015, accessed September 30, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/dying-gaul/.
The Dying Gaul, reconsidered
by DR. KIMBERLY CASSIBRY
Kehinde Wiley, Dying Gaul (Roman 1st Century), 2022, bronze, 21 1/8 x 18 7/8 x 47 inches
A hooded shirt, frayed jeans, and sneakers: these are the clothes that contemporary artist Kehinde Wiley uses to reimagine the famous ancient sculpture known as the Dying Gaul. The ancient sculpture shows a Celtic soldier succumbing to death. Wiley’s sculpture presents a modern Black man in the same pose to prompt viewers to reflect on empathy and violence in art. Following his critique, we should take a closer look at the ancient sculpture of the Dying Gaul. The original statue’s complicated politics have been forgotten during its long journey from antiquity to becoming a much-copied masterpiece in the modern world.
Dying Gaul, Roman marble copy (1st century B.C.E.) of a Greek sculpture (c. 220 B.C.E), found in Rome in the early 1600s, 93 x 89 x 186.5 cm (Musei Capitolini, Rome; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Wiley is one of many artists who have studied the Dying Gaul. As early as 1683, Gérard Audran illustrated the statue in a book about human proportions, and Giovanni Panini even showed artists drawing the Dying Gaul in the foreground of his monumental painting Ancient Rome from 1757. Full-size plaster replicas of the sculpture are held by museums around the world and have been used to teach students appreciation for the classical art of the ancient Mediterranean. In art history textbooks, the Dying Gaul is often illustrated as an ideal example of ancient Greek and Roman art. These repeated references give the sculpture a central place in the art historical canon.
Yet, the Dying Gaul is based on an ancient ethnic stereotype that combines objects and physical features to portray Celts as both outsiders and uncivilized barbarians. This stereotype was developed by the Greeks who feared Celtic invasions even while hiring Celtic men as mercenaries and trading with Celtic communities across long-distance networks. The Romans later used the stereotype to commemorate their own victories over Celtic armies.
Left: Celtic sculpture of a warrior wearing a lobed headdress (known as the Glauberg warrior), 5th century B.C.E., stone, 1.86 m, 230 kg, excavated from an aristocratic tomb complex in 1994 (World of the Celts Museum, Glauberg); right: Celtic sculpture of a bearded man wearing a torc necklace (known as the Trémuson head), 1st century B.C.E., stone, 40 cm, excavated from an aristocratic villa complex in 2019 (Trémuson, France)
Celtic sculptures like the Glauberg warrior (above left) and Trémuson head (above right) reveal how Celts saw themselves. Such works have received far less attention than the Dying Gaul in part due to aesthetic biases that favor naturalism over more abstract representations. If you look closely at the sculpted arms, you will see that those on the Glauberg warrior resemble cylinders, while those on the Dying Gaul have defined musculature. High naturalism contributes to the Dying Gaul’s enduring fame, but does not necessarily make the work more important or more truthful.
In order to understand the Dying Gaul’s legacy for modern artists and viewers, its stereotyping of Celtic peoples needs to be explored and balanced with images made by the Celts themselves. Doing so reveals the limitations of the canon and the consequences of exclusion.
Dying Gaul (detail), Roman marble copy (1st century B.C.E.) of a Greek sculpture (c. 220 B.C.E), found in Rome in the early 1600s, 93 x 89 x 186.5 cm (Musei Capitolini, Rome; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The stereotype: origins and legacy
Greeks in the eastern Mediterranean developed the stereotype for Celtic peoples in the fourth and third centuries B.C.E., when Celts were migrating from their homelands and successfully claiming new territory in northern Italy (ancient Gallia Cisalpina) and central Turkey (ancient Galatia). Later, as Rome’s empire simultaneously expanded, Roman leaders found the stereotype useful for their own monuments commemorating victories over Celts.
The sculpture of the Dying Gaul itself is thought to be a Roman marble copy of a Greek statue (now lost) from the eastern Mediterranean. [1] The Greek statue was created around 220 B.C.E. The Roman version dates to the first century B.C.E. By that time, nearly all Celtic territories had been annexed by Rome. Ireland and much of Scotland ultimately escaped Roman conquest, which is one reason why Celtic cultures persisted in those regions.
Seeing the stereotype
To see the stereotype, we need to look closely at the Dying Gaul’s belongings, body, and pose. [2]
Celtic sculpture of a man with mustache and torc, c. 200 B.C.E., stone, 23.4 cm high, found at Mšecké Žehrovice in 1943 (National Museum, Prague; photo: Zde, CC BY-SA 4.0)
A distinctive open necklace called a torc establishes the warrior’s Celtic identity. Similar artifacts appear in Celtic self-representations, such as the Trémuson head and the damaged warrior statues from Entremont.
Celtic torc and coins found at Tayac, c. 100 B.C.E., gold, part of a buried treasure found in 1893 (Musée d’Aquitaine, Bordeaux)
Torcs also survive in the Celtic lands of ancient Europe. The torc found at Tayac even has a twisting shape similar to the one worn by the Dying Gaul. Romans targeted these necklaces for looting during military campaigns: to have seized one from an opponent was considered a sign of valor. [3] Torcs even appeared on Roman coins to symbolize Celtic defeat. Greek and Roman men did not wear such prominent necklaces, so this jewelry was part of the “othering” of the Celtic soldier.
The mustache also distinguished the Dying Gaul as an outsider to Greek and Roman men who grew beards or were clean-shaven, but did not favor mustaches alone. In Celtic sculptures, men could appear fully bearded, fully clean-shaven, or with a mustache, so this feature may have had some basis in reality.
The hairstyle and face of the Dying Gaul are more difficult to judge for two reasons. First, we do not have the full ancient statue: earlier restorers replaced the missing nose and trimmed the broken tips of the hair to improve the appearance for display. Second, the ancient representation was filtered through Greek and Roman ideas about Celtic bodies and hairstyling. Diodorus Siculus, for example, recorded this impression of Celtic men:
They are tall in body, with rippling muscles and white skin, and their hair is blond, not only naturally so, but they are also accustomed to use artificial means to enhance its natural color. For they are always washing it in lime-water, and they pull it back from the forehead to the top of the head and back to the nape of the neck, so they look like Satyrs and Pans; since this treatment of their hair makes makes it so heavy and coarse that it differs not at all from horses’ manes.DIODORUS SICULUS, HISTORICAL LIBRARY, 5.28.1-2
Dying Gaul (detail), Roman marble copy (1st century B.C.E.) of a Greek sculpture (c. 220 B.C.E), found in Rome in the early 1600s, 93 x 89 x 186.5 cm (Musei Capitolini, Rome; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Scholars have noted that the Dying Gaul’s face has parallels in Greek and Roman images of satyrs (who were half human, half animal). For example, the Barberini Faun shares with the Dying Gaul a furrowed brow and v-shaped face crowned with wavy hair. (TheBarberini Faun also has a tail and pointed ears, which the Dying Gaul lacks.) The Celts’ own images reveal a range of hairstyles and faces, but none seems intended to liken men to animals. [4]
The Dying Gaul’s nudity and wound are more enigmatic and have no known parallels in Celtic art. In Greek and Roman art, the nudity of a perfectly toned male body could reveal heroism or eroticism. Greek and Roman sources also record that Celtic leaders sometimes went into battle naked as an intimidation tactic, so the Dying Gaul’s lack of clothing may have had an historical association. [5]
Dying Gaul (detail), Roman marble copy (1st century B.C.E.) of a Greek sculpture (c. 220 B.C.E), found in Rome in the early 1600s, 93 x 89 x 186.5 cm (Musei Capitolini, Rome; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Issued by Julius Caesar, the coin depicts a trophy installation made of seized carnykes (Celtic trumpets with animal heads), shields, a torc, helmet, and armor. Beneath are a clothed woman and a nude, bearded man with bound hands, and the worn letters of Caesar’s name. Roman denarius, 46 B.C.E. silver, 1.78 cm diameter (American Numismatic Society, New York)
Nudity reveals the sword wound on the Dying Gaul’s chest. The dripping blood would have been even more vivid when the sculpture was painted. The wound’s location on the front of the body indicates that the Celt displayed the heroism of meeting his foe face-to-face rather than turning and running away. Yet the injury also makes clear that he was defeated by his opponent. Modern viewers often respond to his defeat with empathy, but we do not know what ancient viewers thought.
As the soldier succumbs to his wound, his pose is tensely balanced. One knee points upward, while the torso and head tilt downward to foreshadow his fall. This pose makes the nude, dying body vulnerable to our gaze, while also locking the man into a defeated fate. If we survey Greek and Roman representations of Celtic soldiers, we find that they are most often shown dying or captured, with their hands bound, beneath displays of their seized weapons. Movement is limited to running away, as Celtic soldiers are shown doing in a set of terracotta sculptures from Civitalba.
Celts naturally did not depict their own defeat. In fact they won major victories against Greek and Roman armies, and even sacked the city of Rome in 387 B.C.E. The stereotype obscures this much more complicated history.
Celtic patterned disk, 2nd century B.C.E., bronze, 20 cm diameter, excavated from a tomb at Roissy in 1999 (Musée d’Archéologie Nationale, Saint-Germain-en-Laye, photo: BastienM, CC BY-SA 3.0)
Celtic perspectives
Celtic points of view can be difficult to recover. Ancient Celts prioritized spoken transmission of their beliefs and histories, so they left few texts to consult. In addition, most Celtic peoples favored intricate patterns in their art, rather than realistic portrayals of people or events. A few communities, however, featured soldiers in their art, and these experiments help us understand heroism from a Celtic point of view.
Celtic coin with a head and the name Dubnocou (front) and a warrior and the name Dubnoreix (back), 50s B.C.E., silver, 1.4 cm diameter, minted by the Aeduan people of Bibracte, France (Bibliothèque Nationale, Cabinet des Médailles, Paris). The warrior (right) wears a helmet and armor and has a sword hanging from his right hip. In his right hand, he holds a military standard in the shape of a boar and an animal-headed trumpet called a carnyx. In his left hand, he holds the severed head of an enemy. The accompanying letters give an alternative spelling of Dumnorix, a well-known Aeduan leader mentioned in Julius Caesar, Gallic War, 1.3, 1.9, 1.18-20, 5.6-7.
Heroism on Celtic coins
Celtic coin with the name Viipotal and an image of a Celtic warrior on the back (shown here), 50s B.C.E., silver, 1.5 cm diameter, possibly minted by the Pictones people of Poitiers, France (Bibliothèque Nationale, Cabinet des Médailles, Paris). This coin dates to the era of the Roman invasion led by Julius Caesar
Celtic coins typically omitted words and featured images that were highly abstract. [6] In the first century B.C.E., however, the names of Celtic leaders appeared on a number of coins, sometimes accompanied by warrior imagery. At the time, the region’s peoples were negotiating political alliances among themselves and responding to repeated Roman invasions. The coins had a practical purpose of sealing alliances and paying soldiers.
One slightly worn coin depicts a Celtic soldier standing and facing the viewer. The warrior wears a helmet, armor, and a belt over a short tunic. His left hand holds a long oval shield. His right hand holds a sculpted boar (the wild pig’s snout faces down). Behind the soldier’s right wrist is an upright spear. Compared to the Dying Gaul, this warrior stands ready for battle, wears armor to protect his body from enemy weapons, and has his own weapon close at hand.
The boar sculpture is a military standard. Boars were important symbols of ferocity in the region’s culture, and bronze military standards like the one on the coin have been excavated in France. Whereas the coin’s soldier brandishes a well-crafted animal symbol as a sign of power, the Dying Gaul‘s soldier is made to resemble a half-wild creature himself (given that his hair resembles a satyr’s).
The name Viipotal curves around the upper right of the coin’s edge. [7] Viipotal is not known from any other textual sources, so we do not know who he was or why an image of a soldier appeared next to his name. Nonetheless, coins like Viipotal’s allow us to speak of particular Celts, rather than anonymous stereotypes like the Dying Gaul.
Of all these images of Celtic soldiers, the Dying Gaul is by far the best known. Since the sculpture was rediscovered in the early 1600s, its fame has been spread worldwide by paintings, prints, photographs, and replicas. [8] The statue itself is so highly esteemed that it has been displayed abroad twice. In 1796, Napoleon had it seized and transported to Paris (it was returned in 1816). In 2013–14, Italy loaned the statue to the National Gallery of Art in Washington, D.C. in order to promote Italian culture.
The Celtic coins and statues are far less famous. They have been treated as historical evidence, rather than canonical works worthy of recreation and display abroad.
Dying Gaul exhibited at the National Gallery of Art, Washington, D.C., Roman marble copy (1st century B.C.E.) of a Greek sculpture (c. 220 B.C.E), found in Rome in the early 1600s, 93 x 89 x 186.5 cm (Musei Capitolini, Rome; photo: Rob Shelley)
Consequences for the canon
The Dying Gaul combines admiration (Celts meet death with courage), insult (Celts are animalistic), truth (Celts wear torcs), and fiction (Celts always lose). Today we more often see such “enemies of the moment” portrayed in films, but villains in spy movies vary in ethnicity from decade to decade and from nation to nation. The difficulty with the Dying Gaul is that it stereotypes a momentary enemy in a work that has achieved lasting global fame.
The Dying Gaul remains canonical because we continue to engage with it. Kehinde Wiley and other artists have good reasons for copying past creations, and art historians develop expertise so as to recognize and interpret their allusions. Yet repeated references can reinforce the importance of biased works while still marginalizing alternative points of view. The Celts deserve a place in this conversation.
Notes:
[1] The Dying Gaul is not the only version of this statue from antiquity. A fragmentary torso in the same pose is held by the Skulpturensammlung, Staatlichen Kunstsammlungen, Dresden (inventory number HM 154). A smaller version with a mirrored pose also survives and shows a nude soldier wearing a helmet, with a circular spear wound through the front and back of his torso (inventory number 6015, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Naples, Italy).
[2] After the statue was rediscovered in Rome in the early 1600s, restorations replaced missing areas, including the figure’s toes, left knee, right arm, and nose, as well as the sword on the ground. The head shows signs of multiple reattachments, and restorers also trimmed the fragmented ends of the hair. The shield and trumpet are original to the statue, and they match Celtic evidence in the archaeological record.
[3] The Roman military even created and distributed its own torcs as general awards for courage. These Roman military torcs were typically worn on the chest like a badge, as demonstrated by the funerary portrait of the Roman centurion Marcus Caelius (Xanten, Germany, 9 C.E.; C.I.L. 13, 1848; Rheinisches Landesmuseum, Bonn, Germany).
[4] One exception is the Celtic Euffeigneix Pillar (first century B.C.E.), which has a human head, a ponytail, a torc, an image of a boar on the torso, and animal eyes on the sides. Many Celtic communities revered boars for their ferocity, so this melding of human and animal elements would have been complimentary (Inventory number MAN 78243, Musée d’Archéologie Nationale, Saint-Germain-en-Laye, France).
[5] Polybius (Histories, 2.28-29) mentions this strategy at the Battle of Telamon, Italy, fought by the Celts and the Romans in 225 B.C.E.
[6] Celtic communities began minting coins around 300 B.C.E. and took inspiration from the coins of the Greeks and Romans with whom they traded and for whom they worked as mercenaries.
[7] The name is spelled out in the Roman alphabet that the Celts sometimes used to record the sounds of their names even before their territories were claimed by the Roman Empire.
[8] In the 19th century, scholars recognized that the torc and shield could be matched with Celtic artifacts. Before then, the statue was called the “Dying Gladiator,” and many early illustrations still have this title.
Nike (Winged Victory) of Samothrace, Lartos marble (ship) and Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E. 3.28 m high, Hellenistic Period (Musée du Louvre, Paris); a conversation between Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker URL: https://youtu.be/PjI0hAr0Vo0
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Standing at the top of a staircase in the Musée du Louvre in Paris, the Nike of Samothrace looks down over her admiring crowds. One of the most revered artworks of Hellenistic Greek art, the Nike has been on display in the Louvre since 1866. The statue was brought to France by Charles Champoiseau, who found it in pieces during excavations on the island of Samothrace in 1863. Champoiseau was serving as vice-consul in the Ottoman city of Adrianople (modern Edirne, in Turkey), and visited Samothrace specifically to look for antiquities. At the time, European travelers and archaeologists, as well as many amateurs like Champoiseau, conducted excavations and combed ancient sites in the eastern Mediterranean in search of ancient objects to display in their homes and museums. The ownership of ancient objects highlighted appreciation for and connection to the antique past and was understood as a as sign of elite status.
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Announcing a naval triumph
The sculptural group consists of two parts, a large ship’s bow made of grey marble and a free-standing white marble statue with theoverall composition rising more than eighteen feet (Nike alone is nine feet tall). The flying personification of victory (nikē in Greek means victory) alights on top of the ship, announcing a naval triumph. Her wings stretch dramatically behind her. A forceful wind blows her drapery across her body, gathering it in heavy folds between her legs, around her waist, and streaming behind her, conveying a vivid illusion of movement. Thin and gauzy across her breasts, abdomen, and legs, this same drapery reveals her body underneath the clothing, creating an erotized vision of the female form.
Similar to other Hellenistic artworks such as the Laocöon and the Great Altar at Pergamon, the Nike is extraordinarily dramatic in composition and style. It is intended to be viewed from multiple angles, encouraging the viewer to move around the statue, and through this interaction engage with the artwork physically and emotionally.
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Right hand , Nike of Samothrace, c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: 林高志, CC BY-SA 4.0)
Recreation of a portion of the original polychromy (photo: Erich Lessing)
The statue, as it stands today in the Louvre, has been partially restored. While it is now plain white marble, the statue, like all ancient Greek and Roman marble sculptures, would have originally been brightly painted, and traces of pigment have been found on the statue. The right wing is a modern replica. Surviving fragments indicate that the right wing would have risen higher than the left wing and slanted upward. The missing feet, arms, and head have not been restored, giving the statue its now iconic form.
Nike’s surviving right hand (which was found in 1950) gives a clue to her original appearance. Her fingers are outstretched, indicating that she may have been making a gesture of greeting.
Nike, c. 200–150 B.C.E., terracotta, from Myrina, Anatolia (The British Museum; photo: Sailko, CC BY-SA 3.0)
A series of small terracotta figurines of Nike, made in Myrina in Anatolia, give further insight into the original appearance of the Nike of Samothrace. These statues show the goddess in flight, her drapery blown by the wind, with her wings stretched behind her balanced by her extended arms in front. Nike of Samothrace most likely appeared similarly, but on a much larger scale.
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Nike’s wings are a mastery of marble construction. Marble is a heavy material, and compositions that included large protruding, unsupported, large elements such as the wings were rarely seen in earlier Greek sculpture. The now-unknown artist(s) of the Nike of Samothrace solved this problem by creating slots on Nike’s back into which the wings were inserted, and designing the wings with a downward slope so that the weight of the wings rested primarily against the body and did not need an external support.
Nike of Paionios, c. 420 B.C.E., marble (Archaeological Museum of Olympia; photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0)
Who was Nike?
Nike on a Terracotta lekythos, c. 490 B.C.E., attributed to the Dutuit Painter (The Metropolitan Museum of Art)
Nike was both the goddess of victory and the personification of victory itself, in both war and athletic competitions. She was rarely featured in Greek myth and had no easily definable personality or biography. She was usually worshipped alongside other gods or as an attribute of another deity, such as Athena Nike (Athena Bringer of Victory) on the Athenian Acropolis. Yet, she was regularly featured in Greek art, appearing on pots, architectural sculpture, and free-standing sculptural compositions, either singly or in multiple.
Her iconography is distinctive—a winged, youthful woman—and she is one of the most easily identifiable Greek mythological figures. She crowns gods and victorious athletes with leafy circlets or holds palm fronds symbolizing victory. She was the perfect subject to commemorate military triumphs and was regularly featured in victory monuments, notably the fifth-century Nike of Paionios, erected at the Sanctuary of Zeus at Olympia to celebrate a Peloponnesian War victory.
The Nike of Samothrace was originally erected as a military victory monument in the Sanctuary of the Great Gods (Theoi Megaloi) on Samothrace, a small island in the northern Aegean Sea. While the permanent population of the island was relatively small, an influx of worshippers regularly descended upon Samothrace to participate in religious rites hosted by the sanctuary, especially in the Hellenistic and Roman periods when the sanctuary was at its height of popularity. The cult of the Great Gods was a mystery religion, meaning that worshippers needed to be initiated into the cult before they were allowed to participate, and the rites were kept secret from everyone except the initiates. Since secrecy was so central to the cult, modern scholars do not know exactly what was involved in the rituals. However, we do know that the cult promised its initiates safety at sea and personal moral benefit.
Plan of the sanctuary of the Great Gods, Samothrace, with the location of Nike of Samothrace at location 9
Worshippers came from throughout the ancient Mediterranean to worship, and initiation was open to all, regardless of social class, gender, or citizenship. Royals, elites, commoners, and enslaved people were all initiated into the cult. The Roman writer Plutarch even says that the parents of Alexander the Great, Philip and Olympias, met while they were initiates on Samothrace.
The sanctuary was located in a narrow valley, with buildings located on the valley floor and on terraces cut into the hillsides. The Nike monument was on the west slope, in a niche at the top of the hill behind the theater. Placed at one of the highest points in the sanctuary, it would have been visible from numerous viewpoints as initiates moved through rituals.
Scholars once believed the Nike of Samothrace stood in a fountain. Archaeological evidence for this theory has now been shown to post-date the monument, and while there is still debate about whether the structure was roofed or enclosed by walls, scholars today hold that the Nike group was housed in a small building, open on the north side, with the Nike facing out over the theater. The illusion of her blowing drapery would have been reinforced by the actual onshore wind that would have blown across the valley.
Dedication and historical context
Due to the popularity of the cult, and its connection to protection at sea, it makes sense that a military leader would have dedicated a monument commemorating a naval victory at Samothrace. The triumphant commander would have proclaimed his victory before an international audience, including perhaps those he defeated. The dedicatory inscription, which most votive statues in Greek sanctuaries included, has not survived, so it is unknown who dedicated the statue or what victory it commemorated.
Left: Athena panel, east frieze, Pergamon Altar, c. 197-139 B.C.E. (Staatliche Museen, Berlin); right: Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Based on stylistic similarities between the Nike of Samothrace and the external frieze of the Great Altar at Pergamon, notably its theatricality and hyperrealism, the statue is usually dated to the first half of the second century B.C.E. In the period, naval battles between the Hellenistic kingdoms were common as they fought for military, political, and economic control. The Greek Hellenistic world stretched from mainland Greece through Egypt, across Anatolia and the Near East to central Asia. The territory was divided into a series of empires. While most were hereditary monarchies, rulership was frequently unstable; power regularly changed hands and borders shifted. Many of these shifts in power were determined through warfare, and a strong military was a key part of a leader’s ability to hold onto his throne. The Hellenistic dynasts carefully built up their armies and navies, attempting to outdo one another both in the size of their forces and the advancement of their military technology. Triumphs were widely advertised, and victory monuments were an important part of royal propaganda. Erected both at home and at sites like Samothrace, they ensured that the nation’s subjects, allies, and enemies knew of an empire’s military might.
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0))
Scholars have proposed a number of possible battles that the Nike of Samothrace commemorated, but most theories argue that the statue commemorated a victory over the island of Rhodes. This is based in part on the material of the ship on which Nike stood, a grey marble from the Lartos quarries on Rhodes. The Nike herself is made of a white Parian marble, which was revered as a superior material for sculpture, and exported throughout the Mediterranean. Lartian marble was much less commonly used, and we see it primarily in monuments on Rhodes or commissioned by Rhodians. In addition, the amount of marble used in the Nike of Samothrace was large, weighing around 30 tons, and would have been a full shipload on a typical merchant ship. Given the cost to ship the marble from Rhodes, it was likely specially ordered and intended to make a statement, connecting it to the Rhodians.
Tetradrachm (coin) showing Nike blowing a trumped, 301–295 B.C.E., minted by Demetrius Poliorcetes, silver (Münzkabinett der Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin)
The form of a naval victory monument featuring a carved marble ship appears to be a popular type in the Hellenistic period, and parallels for the Nike of Samothrace are widespread—they have been found in mainland Greece, the Aegean islands, and Cyrene in Libya. The closest parallel appeared on coins minted by Demetrius Poliorcetes of Macedonia at the end of the third century B.C.E. The coins depict Nike on the prow of a ship, blowing a horn to announce a victory.
The Nike of Samothrace, while originally located in a sanctuary on a small island in the north Aegean, was intrinsically part of a Hellenistic world defined by the transmission of ideas, goods, people, and artistic motifs over large distances. Today, it is admired by an international audience in the Louvre, and its original intention was similar. The Sanctuary of the Great Gods, promising protection at sea to its initiates, was visited by worshippers from across the Mediterranean. The statue commemorated a naval triumph, and its placement in this location afforded it a broad audience, advertising its dedicator’s military prowess to the world. The Nike’s windswept drapery, outstretched wings, and dramatic location assured that it would have drawn the eyes of everyone who saw it.
Source: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Apollonius, Boxer at Rest (or The Seated Boxer),” in Smarthistory, December 7, 2015, accessed September 30, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/apollonius-boxer-at-rest/.
A moment in time that’s lasted 2,000 years— the Spinario (Boy with Thorn)
by DR. BETH HARRIS and DR. STEVEN ZUCKER
Spinario (Boy with Thorn), c. 1st century B.C.E., bronze, 73 cm high (Capitoline Museums, Rome), a conversation with Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris
Alexander Mosaic, c. 100 B.C.E., Roman copy of a lost Greek painting, House of the Faun, Pompeii, c. 315 B.C.E., Hellenistic Period (Archaeological Museum, Naples); speakers: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker. URL: https://youtu.be/51UA1T89MzU?si=VhrkkQCmfutPiiqj
The Alexander Mosaic as seen on the wall of the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii
A mighty general (Alexander the Great) charges on horseback across the field of battle. His spear makes contact with a soldier’s torso, who begins to recoil in pain and shock, on the verge of falling over the dead body of a horse strewn on the ground behind him. On the other side of the battlefield, a charioteer scrambles frantically to turn his horses around, trampling bodies beneath their hooves, in an attempt to get the opposing general (Darius) to safety.
These are just some of the evocative scenes depicted in the Alexander Mosaic.
Annotated detail, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
This battle is usually identified as the Battle of Issus, a great fight that occurred on November 5, 333 B.C.E. in what is now modern-day Turkey [1]. It took place between the (Hellenic League) forces of the Macedonian-Greek Alexander the Great and the (Achaemenid Persian) forces of Darius III—a struggle which would ultimately result in a victory for Alexander.
The mosaic in context
Detail of tesserae, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
The Alexander Mosaic (8 ft 11 in × 16 ft 10 in) is made up of approximately 1.5 million tesserae, which are small, cubed pieces of glass or stones cut into shape. The mostly earth-colored stones are remarkably tiny and used to emphasize the details of the scene. They are laid down in a style known as opus vermiculatum, a technique which is identified as “worm-like” due to the curved lines of tesserae placed to emphasize features and figures within the work.
The mosaic, which was created in the 2nd century B.C.E., once covered the entire floor of a room located between the two peristyle gardens of the large and grand House of the Faun in Pompeii. Today, a modern replica can be seen in Pompeii, while the original has been transferred to the Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli (Naples National Archaeological Museum). The original mosaic survives in such good condition because it was protected by layers of ash from the 79 C.E. volcanic eruption of Mount Vesuvius until its rediscovery in 1831.
Modern Reconstruction of the Alexander Mosaic, in situ at the House of the Faun in Pompeii (closer view here)
The field of battle
Though parts of the mosaic have been damaged in the more than two millennia since its creation, much of the dramatic scene is still visible today.
Detail of Alexander the Great, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Near the left side of the mosaic, Alexander charges forward on his horse (named Bucephalus), fully armored, but wearing no helmet. His gaze is intense and confident, and his hair flies out behind him from the force of his forward momentum. His army follows closely as they advance towards the spear-carrying soldiers of the Persian army. In his right hand he holds a sarissa, a type of long spear invented by his father (Philip II, the former King of Macedon), which became an essential tool of Alexander and his forces as they conquered his empire.
Detail of Darius III, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Alexander rides towards the Persian army, led by Darius III, located on the right side of the mosaic, standing atop his chariot.
Detail of an impaled soldier (often identified as one of Darius’ kinsmen), jumping in front of the spear and taking the blow meant for his king (Darius III), Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Before Alexander’s spear can make contact with Darius, a man, often identified as one of Darius’ kinsmen, jumps in front of the spear and takes the blow meant for his king. Behind Darius and facing in the opposite direction, the charioteer frantically tries to wheel the chariot around. Holding the reins tightly with his left hand, he raises a whip in his right hand to spur the horses to move faster through the crowd of soldiers across a battlefield that is strewn with blood, bodies, and abandoned weapons. The shock of this moment is reflected in Darius’ face. The artist succeeds in capturing the devastation and fear in Darius’ facial expression. He desperately reaches out in vain towards his dying kinsman, looking towards Alexander.
Detail of Persian soldiers and Darius III in his chariot, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
The artist captures the frenzied movements and fearful eyes of the horses as they trample soldiers and Darius flees from the battle, eyes still fixed on Alexander.
Although Alexander wins this battle, Darius is the tallest figure in the mosaic, elevated by the chariot on which he stands and puts his grief on prominent display.
An artist’s skill
This mosaic is remarkable not just for representing this significant battle, but also for the level of detail and naturalism it displays. All of the figures from humans to horses are rendered with a sense of three-dimensional, naturalistic modeling. By the late classical period and into the Hellenistic period, representations of figures had shifted from classical idealism to humanistic depictions which emphasized realistic anatomy and emotion, as is evident here.
Detail of soldier’s face with tesserae arranged to create light and shadow, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
The tesserae are also used effectively to create light, shadow, and reflection. For example, there is a figure who has been knocked to the ground by the fleeing chariot. In a moment of introspection, he stares at the reflection of his own face on a shield, perhaps just before the moment of his own death. The incredible skill of the artist renders dynamic moments like these in realistic ways.
Detail of fallen soldier’s face reflected in a shield, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Though the landscape in which the battle takes place is a barren one with little suggestion of setting, the figures display three-dimensionality, an excellent example of how well the ancient Greeks understood the body and how it moved through space. This is evident, for example, in the foreshortening of figures like the horse near the center right of the mosaic. The horse’s flank also displays tonal gradation, where colors transition gradually from a lighter tone to a darker one.
Detail of foreshortened horse, Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Greek origins
Compared to the crowded and frenetic battle scene below, the top half of the composition is mostly empty, broken only by spears and a bare, gnarled tree.
So why is the top half of this mosaic so vacant? The answer likely lies in the mosaic’s origins.
This stunningly detailed floor mosaic is usually believed to be a copy of an earlier Greek wall painting. Ancient Greek paintings were a highly popular and respected art form, but unfortunately, examples today are nearly nonexistent. [2] Unlike Roman wall paintings which were painted directly on the wall and therefore fixed and immovable, Greek wall paintings were usually painted on panels which were inserted into walls. These panel paintings could be removed from the wall and replaced as desired. While this was very practical at the time, they were constructed from more impermanent materials which frequently do not survive.
As a painting, the scene would have been displayed on a vertical wall. Given the size, much of the top half of the composition would have been well above the heads of the viewers and therefore not as easily viewed or necessary to fill with objects and figures. We can get a sense of what this looks like today from the mosaic’s wall-mounted position in the Naples National Archaeological Museum.
Though the Greek paintings themselves no longer exist, their influence can be seen in Etruscan and Roman paintings and mosaics, such as this one. Alexander the Great employed many artists during his reign as did his father before him. As Alexander’s empire spread, so too did the artistic styles that began to develop during his lifetime. Even after his death, artists during the Hellenistic period copied or were influenced by these works.
This was a mosaic meant to impress. The House of the Faun is the single largest residence in Pompeii and one of the most opulently decorated. By choosing to showcase this scene in his house, which is a copy of such a famous work, it would suggest to guests that the owner was highly educated in Greek culture and speaks to the Roman fascination with Greek art.
A battle won
Although he was outnumbered by Darius’ forces, Alexander defeated him at the Battle of Issus. The battle was considered a turning point leading to the decline of Achaemenid power, and ultimately, paved the way for Alexander’s conquest, which culminated in him burning the Persian capital Persepolis in 330 B.C.E. Even though he died at the young age of 32, Alexander succeeded in creating one of the largest empires of the ancient world.
Empire of Alexander the Great, 334–328 B.C.E.
Although none of the original paintings of Alexander and Darius survive, the mosaic allows us to see what it may have looked like, capturing a moment in time during a frenetic and emotional battle. Even after more than 2,000 years, the mosaic continues to fascinate all those who look upon it.
Alexander Mosaic, created in the 2nd century B.C.E., from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, reconstructed in the National Archaeological Museum, Naples
Notes:
[1] The other possible candidate is the Battle of Gaugamela which took place in 331 B.C.E. and is the second time that Alexander and Darius directly fought each other.
[2] A few mid – late 4th century B.C.E. Macedonian paintings survive in the tombs of Vergina, Greece.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons
by DR. AMANDA HERRING
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
The sculptural group known today as the Laocoön or Laocoön and his Sons has been both one of the most influential ancient artworks in the history of art and one of the most fiercely debated. It has been copied by countless artists, and numerous books have been written about it, yet there is still little scholarly consensus about the circumstances of its creation.
The statue was discovered in 1506 on the Esquiline Hill in Rome by a farmer working in his vineyard. The Laocoön was only one of a number of ancient artworks that had been abandoned, forgotten, and eventually buried under later buildings and streets. During the Renaissance, a number of these artworks were rediscovered, either accidentally during construction projects or purposefully by people hunting for the artworks which had become greatly admired. One of the first people to see the statue was Michelangelo, who was sent by the pope, Julius II, along with architect Guiliano da Sangallo, to inspect the statue after its excavation. Julius, like many of his sixteenth-century Italian contemporaries, was a connoisseur and collector of ancient Greek and Roman art. He purchased the statue, and it has remained in the collection of the Vatican ever since.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Most likely dating to the first century B.C.E. or first century C.E., the statue is made of six blocks of Greek Parian marble. It is over-life sized, at a height of 6’ 8”. The composition depicts the tortuous death of Laocoön and his two sons by snakes (read the full story below). All three are nude with clearly defined, exaggerated musculature. Bands of clenched muscles are visible under the skin of Laocoön’s torso as he reaches up to fight off the snakes. The statue, like all ancient Greek and Roman marble sculptures, would have been painted originally. The bright green of the twisting snakes and the red blood drawn by their bites would have stood out against the tan flesh of Laocoön and his sons.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Laocoön is at the center of the composition, sitting in a twisted position on an altar. One snake sinks its teeth into his hip. Laocoön throws his head back as he screams in agony. His hair and beard curl in deeply carved locks, contributing to the sculpture’s dramatic tone. Based on surviving paint on his eyes, some scholars have argued that he has been blinded by the bites of the snakes.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Nike of Samothrace (winged Victory), Lartos marble (ship), Parian marble (figure), c. 190 B.C.E., 3.28 meters high (Louvre, Paris; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Laocoön is flanked by his two teenaged sons. The figure on the left, the younger of the two, has gone limp, and it is likely that he is already dead. The older son, on the right, pulls snake coils off his leg and arm. He turns to look at his father, an expression of horror and confusion on his face. With its emphasis on theatricality and exaggerated realism, it is similar to artworks of the so-called Hellenistic baroque, such as the Nike of Samothrace and the Great Altar at Pergamon. While the style is most closely associated with the city of Pergamon and the island Rhodes in the second century B.C.E., Hellenistic baroque had an enduring popularity, and artworks in the style continued to be produced into the Roman Imperial period, with Rome becoming a center of Hellenistic art.
The Story of Laocoön
The myth of Laocoön dates back to the seventh century B.C.E. It was part of the Epic Cycle, a series of poems that told the story of the Trojan War (Greeks against the city of Troy, in present-day Turkey). Today, only the Iliad and the Odyssey survive, but we have fragments or descriptions of the other volumes. Laocoön appeared in the now-lost Ilioupersis (the sack of Troy) by Arktinos of Miletos. Versions of Laocoön’s story appeared after that, notably in a now-lost fifth century B.C.E. play of Sophocles.
The version closest chronologically to the Laocoön statue appeared in Roman writer Vergil’s Aeneid, published in 19 B.C.E. The Aeneid tells the story of the Trojan warrior Aeneas who escapes from Troy during its destruction and makes his way to Italy, where he rules over the Latin people. The story of Laocoön forms part of book two, which recounts the sack of Troy. The Greeks pretended to give up their siege of Troy with its unbreakable walls, leaving only a large wooden horse as a final offering to the gods. In actuality, some hid out of sight while others hid inside the horse. Only a few Trojans spoke against bringing the horse inside the city. The first was Cassandra, who was blessed with the gift of prophecy, but cursed that no one would ever believe her. The other was Laocoön, a priest of Neptune (Greek Poseidon). He warned the Trojans with his now famous line, “I fear the Greeks, even when they bring gifts.” But the gods had decided the Greeks were to win the war, and no one, divine or mortal, can defy fate. So the gods sent a pair of snakes to silence Laocoön. They came from the sea, attacking Laocoön and his sons while he made a sacrifice. They bit and wrapped themselves around the three, killing first the sons and then Laocoön. This is the moment represented in the marble statue.
Trojan war stories were popular in ancient Rome, especially during the reigns of the Julio-Claudian emperors (27 B.C.E.–68 C.E.). The myths connected the Romans back to the ancient and revered past, giving them legitimacy as a cultural and military power through these connections. The Julian family traced their lineage directly back to the Trojan warrior Aeneas, and so actively promoted art and literature like the Aeneid that focused on Troy.
Scene showing Laocoön, 1st century C.E., atrium of the House of Menandro, Pompeii (Wikimedia CC BY-SA 3.0)
While Laocoön was a recurring subject in texts, he was not as popular in art. Images of Laocoön have been identified on a few pots made by south Italian Greeks in the fourth century B.C.E., but most of the known images are Roman. Gems dating to the late imperial period as well as two first-century C.E. paintings from houses in Pompeii depict the death of Laocoön. Artworks are few, however, and the marble statue is the only monumental depiction of the subject to survive.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Pliny and The Laocoön
The Laocoön is fairly unusual among surviving ancient artworks because it is described in an ancient text, Natural History, by Pliny the Elder. Most of the famous artworks described by ancient authors have been lost and those artworks that have survived are without ancient textual description.
Pliny, a Roman aristocrat and scholar, published the first volumes of The Natural History in 77 C.E. This encyclopedia was intended to record all known knowledge. In his discussion of famous statues, Pliny describes the Laocoön as he saw it in the house of the ancient Roman emperor Titus, and attributes it to the artists Hagesandros, Polydoros, and Athenodoros of Rhodes. Pliny praises the statue as superior to all other artworks. Despite some inconsistencies between the Laocoön statue and Pliny’s description, notably the statue is made of multiple blocks of stone rather than a single block as Pliny says, it is widely accepted that the Laocoön in the Vatican is the statue described by Pliny.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
Dating the Laocoön
Another example of a Greek sculpture that was brought back to Rome, then copied. Lysippos, Apoxyomenos (Scraper), Roman copy after a Greek bronze statue from c. 330 B.C.E., 6′ 9″ high (Vatican Museums)
The circumstances surrounding the creation of the Laocoön, including its date, have been long debated by scholars. While one scholar proposed that the statue was actually a Renaissance forgery by Michelangelo, this theory has been widely discredited, and most scholars date the statue between 150 B.C.E. and 70 C.E. Each of these proposals examine why a statue in the Hellenistic Greek style was found in Rome, and the role of Romans as patrons and collectors of Greek sculpture.
The Romans, especially in the late Republic and early Empire, were active connoisseurs of Greek art. As they conquered Greek territories, they imported large numbers of Greek artworks to Italy, removing them from homes, public buildings, and sanctuaries. Romans displayed Greek artworks in their homes and public spaces, many in contexts far removed from their original locations and purposes. These artworks took on new meanings as symbols of the wealth and education of their owners. The Romans also commissioned copies of famous statues as well as new compositions inspired by Greek originals. Rome became a center of Hellenistic art as Greek artists moved to Italy to work for wealthy Romans.
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Theories that posit the earliest date for the Laocoön propose that, based on stylistic similarities, the Laocoön is contemporary to the second-century B.C.E. Great Altar at Pergamon and that it was made in the Greek island of Rhodes before being exported to Rome. Other scholars propose that the marble statue found in Rome was a copy of an earlier second-century Greek original. Most writers, however, argue that the Laocoön was made in Rome for Roman patrons.
North side of grand staircase, Pergamon Altar (photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0
Part of the Skylla group, 1st century B.C.E.–1st century C.E., marble, Sperlonga (left photo: Carole Raddato, CC BY-SA 2.0; right photo: Sailko, CC BY 3.0)
Support for a Roman context for the creation of the statue comes from the site of Sperlonga, located between Rome and Naples. Here, the emperor Tiberius had a grotto for dining and entertainment decorated with monumental marble statues. The statues are over-life sized and depict scenes from the Trojan war or the life of Odysseus. They are in the same dramatic, hyper-realistic style as the Laocoön, and an artist’s signature was found on the sculptural group that depicted Odysseus’ run-in with the sea monster, Skylla attributing the statues to Hagesandros, Athenadoros, and Polydoros of Rhodes—the same artists to whom Pliny attributes the Laocoön. Debates over the creation of the Laocoön statue are therefore intertwined with the Sperlonga statues.
Most recent scholarly discussions have centered on whether the sculptures were made specifically for the grotto and Titus’s palace or whether they were made earlier and moved to these locations. While there is still no definitive consensus, most scholars now place both the Sperlonga statues and the Laocoön in the first century B.C.E. or first century C.E. Their dramatic, Hellenistic style, along with the focus on Trojan war themes place them in line with the concerns of upper-class Roman patrons in these periods.
Athanadoros, Hagesandros, and Polydoros of Rhodes, Laocoön and his Sons, early first century C.E., marble, 7’10 1/2″ high (Vatican Museums; photo: Steven Zucker, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)
An unquestionable legacy
From Pliny to Michelangelo to modern visitors to the Vatican Museums, the Laocoön statue has made an impact on its viewers. Its dramatic depiction of the agony of Laocoön and his sons forges an emotional connection with its audience. While scholars continue to debate how and when it was created and its ancient context, its legacy is unquestionable.