This chapter is organized into the following sections:
Part 2: The Early Byzantine – Constantine and Justinian
Part 3: Middle Byzantine (c. 843-1204)
Part 4: Byzantium and its Neighbors (including Venice, Norman Sicily)
Part 2: The Early Byzantine – Constantine and Justinian
Part 3: Middle Byzantine (c. 843-1204)
Part 4: Byzantium and its Neighbors (including Venice, Norman Sicily)
This essay is intended to introduce the periods of Byzantine history, with attention to developments in art and architecture.
In 313, the Roman Empire legalized Christianity, beginning a process that would eventually dismantle its centuries-old pagan tradition. Not long after, emperor Constantine transferred the empire’s capital from Rome to the ancient Greek city of Byzantion (modern Istanbul). Constantine renamed the new capital city “Constantinople” (“the city of Constantine”) after himself and dedicated it in the year 330. With these events, the Byzantine Empire was born—or was it?
The term “Byzantine Empire” is a bit of a misnomer. The Byzantines understood their empire to be a continuation of the ancient Roman Empire and referred to themselves as “Romans.” The use of the term “Byzantine” only became widespread in Europe after Constantinople finally fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1453. For this reason, some scholars refer to Byzantium as the “Eastern Roman Empire.”
The history of Byzantium is remarkably long. If we reckon the history of the Eastern Roman Empire from the dedication of Constantinople in 330 until its fall to the Ottomans in 1453, the empire endured for some 1,123 years.
Scholars typically divide Byzantine history into three major periods: Early Byzantium, Middle Byzantium, and Late Byzantium. But it is important to note that these historical designations are the invention of modern scholars rather than the Byzantines themselves. Nevertheless, these periods can be helpful for marking significant events, contextualizing art and architecture, and understanding larger cultural trends in Byzantium’s history.
Scholars often disagree about the parameters of the Early Byzantine period. On the one hand, this period saw a continuation of Roman society and culture—so, is it really correct to say it began in 330? On the other, the empire’s acceptance of Christianity and geographical shift to the east inaugurated a new era.
Following Constantine’s embrace of Christianity, the church enjoyed imperial patronage, constructing monumental churches in centers such as Rome, Constantinople, and Jerusalem. In the west, the empire faced numerous attacks by Germanic nomads from the north, and Rome was sacked by the Goths in 410 and by the Vandals in 455. The city of Ravenna in northeastern Italy rose to prominence in the 5th and 6th centuries when it functioned as an imperial capital for the western half of the empire. Several churches adorned with opulent mosaics, such as San Vitale and the nearby Sant’Apollinare in Classe, testify to the importance of Ravenna during this time.
Under the sixth-century emperor Justinian I, who reigned 527–565, the Byzantine Empire expanded to its largest geographical area: encompassing the Balkans to the north, Egypt and other parts of north Africa to the south, Anatolia (what is now Turkey) and the Levant (including including modern Syria, Lebanon, Israel, and Jordan) to the east, and Italy and the southern Iberian Peninsula (now Spain and Portugal) to the west. Many of Byzantium’s greatest architectural monuments, such as the innovative domed basilica of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, were also built during Justinian’s reign.
Constantinople (map: Carolyn Connor and Tom Elliot, Ancient World Mapping Center, CC BY-NC 3.0
Following the example of Rome, Constantinople featured a number of outdoor public spaces—including major streets, fora, as well as a hippodrome (a course for horse or chariot racing with public seating)—in which emperors and church officials often participated in showy public ceremonies such as processions.
Christian monasticism, which began to thrive in the 4th century, received imperial patronage at sites like Mount Sinai in Egypt.
Yet the mid-7th century began what some scholars call the “dark ages” or the “transitional period” in Byzantine history. Following the rise of Islam in Arabia and subsequent attacks by Arab invaders, Byzantium lost substantial territories, including Syria and Egypt, as well as the symbolically important city of Jerusalem with its sacred pilgrimage sites. The empire experienced a decline in trade and an economic downturn.
Against this backdrop, and perhaps fueled by anxieties about the fate of the empire, the so-called “Iconoclastic Controversy” erupted in Constantinople in the 8th and 9th centuries. Church leaders and emperors debated the use of religious images that depicted Christ and the saints, some honoring them as holy images, or “icons,” and others condemning them as idols (like the images of deities in ancient Rome) and apparently destroying some. Finally, in 843, Church and imperial authorities definitively affirmed the use of religious images and ended the Iconoclastic Controversy, an event subsequently celebrated by the Byzantines as the “Triumph of Orthodoxy.”
In the period following Iconoclasm, the Byzantine empire enjoyed a growing economy and reclaimed some of the territories it lost earlier. With the affirmation of images in 843, art and architecture once again flourished. But Byzantine culture also underwent several changes.
Middle Byzantine churches elaborated on the innovations of Justinian’s reign, but were often constructed by private patrons and tended to be smaller than the large imperial monuments of Early Byzantium. The smaller scale of Middle Byzantine churches also coincided with a reduction of large, public ceremonies.
Monumental depictions of Christ and the Virgin, biblical events, and an array of various saints adorned church interiors in both mosaics and frescoes. But Middle Byzantine churches largely exclude depictions of the flora and fauna of the natural world that often appeared in Early Byzantine mosaics, perhaps in response to accusations of idolatry during the Iconoclastic Controversy. In addition to these developments in architecture and monumental art, exquisite examples of manuscripts, cloisonné enamels, stonework, and ivory carving survive from this period as well.
The Middle Byzantine period also saw increased tensions between the Byzantines and western Europeans (whom the Byzantines often referred to as “Latins” or “Franks”). The so-called “Great Schism” of 1054 signaled growing divisions between Orthodox Christians in Byzantium and Roman Catholics in western Europe.
In 1204, the Fourth Crusade—undertaken by western Europeans loyal to the pope in Rome—veered from its path to Jerusalem and sacked the Christian city of Constantinople. Many of Constantinople’s artistic treasures were destroyed or carried back to western Europe as booty. The crusaders occupied Constantinople and established a “Latin Empire” in Byzantine territory. Exiled Byzantine leaders established three successor states: the Empire of Nicaea in northwestern Anatolia, the Empire of Trebizond in northeastern Anatolia, and the Despotate of Epirus in northwestern Greece and Albania. In 1261, the Empire of Nicaea retook Constantinople and crowned Michael VIII Palaiologos as emperor, establishing the Palaiologan dynasty that would reign until the end of the Byzantine Empire.
While the Fourth Crusade fueled animosity between eastern and western Christians, the crusades nevertheless encouraged cross-cultural exchange that is apparent in the arts of Byzantium and western Europe, and particularly in Italian paintings of the late medieval and early Renaissance periods, exemplified by new depictions of St. Francis painted in the so-called Italo-Byzantine style.
Artistic patronage again flourished after the Byzantines re-established their capital in 1261. Some scholars refer to this cultural flowering as the “Palaiologan Renaissance” (after the ruling Palaiologan dynasty). Several existing churches—such as the Chora Monastery in Constantinople—were renovated, expanded, and lavishly decorated with mosaics and frescoes. Byzantine artists were also active outside Constantinople, both in Byzantine centers such as Thessaloniki, as well as in neighboring lands, such as the Kingdom of Serbia, where the signatures of the painters named Michael Astrapas and Eutychios have been preserved in frescos from the late 13th and early 14th centuries.
Yet the Byzantine Empire never fully recovered from the blow of the Fourth Crusade, and its territory continued to shrink. Byzantium’s calls for military aid from western Europeans in the face of the growing threat of the Ottoman Turks in the east remained unanswered. In 1453, the Ottomans finally conquered Constantinople, converting many of Byzantium’s great churches into mosques, and ending the long history of the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire.
Despite the ultimate demise of the Byzantine Empire, the legacy of Byzantium continued. This is evident in formerly Byzantine territories like Crete, where the so-called “Cretan School” of iconography flourished under Venetian rule (a famous product of the Cretan School being Domenikos Theotokopoulos, better known as El Greco).
But Byzantium’s influence also continued to spread beyond its former cultural and geographic boundaries, in the architecture of the Ottomans, the icons of Russia, the paintings of Italy, and elsewhere.
Additional Resources
“Byzantium (ca. 330–1453),” The Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History, The Metropolitan Museum of Art
Source: Dr. Evan Freeman, “About the chronological periods of the Byzantine Empire,” in Smarthistory, September 22, 2020, accessed October 28, 2024, https://smarthistory.org/periods-of-the-byzantine-empire/.
URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Okph9wt8I0A
Cite this page as: Dr. Evan Freeman, “About the chronological periods of the Byzantine Empire,” in Smarthistory, September 22, 2020, accessed October 31, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/periods-of-the-byzantine-empire/. URL: https://youtu.be/Okph9wt8I0A
In our time, we often refer to celebrities as cultural icons, pop icons, and fashion icons. Rebels are sometimes labeled iconoclasts. Icons are also the little images that populate the screens of our computers, phones, and tablets, which we click to open files and apps.
The word “icon” comes from the Greek eikо̄n, so, “icon” simply means image. In the Eastern Roman “Byzantine” Empire and other lands that shared Byzantium’s Orthodox Christian faith, “holy icons” were images of sacred figures and events.
When art historians talk about icons today, they often mean portraits of holy figures painted on wood panels with encaustic or egg tempera, like this tempera icon of Christ from fourteenth-century Thessaloniki. But the Byzantines used the term icon more broadly, as this statement made by Church authorities in 787 C.E. shows:
Holy icons—made of colors, pebbles, or any other material that is fit—may be set in the holy churches of God, on holy utensils and vestments, on walls and boards, in houses and in streets. These may be icons of our Lord and God the Savior Jesus Christ, or of our pure Lady the holy Theotokos, or of honorable angels, or of any saint or holy man.(Council of Nicaea II, 787 C.E.)
In Byzantium, icons were painted, but they were also carved in stone and ivory and fashioned from mosaics, metals, and enamels—virtually any medium available to artists.
Icons could be monumental or miniature. They were located in a variety of religious and non-religious settings, including as decoration on functional objects like this Eucharistic chalice.
And icons could depict a wide range of sacred subjects, such as Christ, the saints, and events from the Bible or the lives of saints.
Christians initially disagreed over whether religious images were good or bad. Texts from as early as the second and third century describe some Christians using religious images, which they illuminated and adorned with garlands, but these practices were not universal or standardized. Church authorities often criticized these practices, which reminded them of customs associated with pagan Greece and Rome, where images of gods and emperors were widely venerated.
By the eighth and ninth centuries, icons were increasingly popular, and arguments about religious images boiled over in what is called the “Iconoclastic Controversy.” The so-called “iconoclasts” (literally, “breakers of images”) opposed icons, arguing that God was transcendent and could not be depicted in art. The iconoclasts feared that Christians praying before icons were worshipping inanimate objects.
On the other hand, the “iconophiles” (literally “lovers of images”), also known as “iconodules” (literally “servants of images”), defended icons, arguing that since Jesus, the Son of God, was born with a visible human body, he could be depicted in images. The iconophiles maintained that rather than worshipping inanimate objects, they honored icons as a means of honoring the holy figures represented in icons.
Imperial and Church authorities in favor of icons gathered at a council in the city of Nicaea in 787 to try to resolve the controversy, but it was not until 843 that the Church definitively affirmed the use of images, ending the Iconoclastic Controversy in what became known as the “Triumph of Orthodoxy.” To this day, icons continue to play important roles in the faith and worship of the Eastern Orthodox Church, which is heir to the religious tradition of Byzantium.
In addition to affirming Christian images, the 787 Council of Nicaea II and subsequent 843 Triumph of Orthodoxy also enshrined devotional practices associated with icons. Christians should bow before and kiss icons, light candles and lamps, and burn incense before them. All of these acts of devotion directed at images were intended to pass to the holy figures represented. As a modern analogy, we might consider the ways many people frame and hang photos of loved ones in their homes, sometimes even embracing or kissing such images.
Today, many people identify art with creativity and self-expression. But this was not always the case. Icons were meant to represent historical figures and Christian teaching in a manner that was recognizable and understandable for viewers. Since icons were venerated as a way of showing devotion to the figure represented, understanding who was depicted was particularly important. To achieve this, artists often relied on established artistic conventions.
For example, Saints Peter and Paul appear much the same through the centuries: Peter is an old man with white wavy hair and a short beard; Paul has balding, brown hair and a pointy beard. Modern viewers may dismiss such repetition as unoriginal. But for viewers familiar with these conventions, the figures in icons were immediately recognizable, like seeing the faces of old friends.
Artists also used what art historians call “iconographic attributes” to identify figures. For example, evangelists (authors of the Gospels) often hold Gospel books. Clergy saints wear church vestments and hold liturgical objects, such as censers, which were used by the clergy in church services. Healer saints hold boxes of medicine. Martyrs—saints who had died for their faith—often hold crosses to associate their sacrifice with the death of Christ on the cross.
These attributes helped identify the holy figures represented. But there were no rulebooks governing these conventions, so iconographic attributes were subject to change. It was only in the post-Iconoclastic period, for example, that artists regularly depicted soldier saints in military garb, as seen in this tenth- or eleventh-century ivory icon of Saint Demetrios.
Another way of guaranteeing that viewers recognized the figures in icons was by including texts that labeled the icon’s subjects. Although labels were sporadic before Iconoclasm, they became normative in the post-Iconoclastic era. So, icons of Christ are labeled “IC XC” (the Greek abbreviation for “Jesus Christ”). Icons of the Virgin Mary are labeled “MP ΘY” (the Greek abbreviation for “Mother of God”). And icons of most other holy figures are labeled ὁ ἅγιος (o agios, meaning “saint,” or more literally, “holy”), sometimes abbreviated with as an “Α” within an “Ο” as seen in this this tenth- or eleventh-century ivory icon of Saint Demetrios.
Consider how these elements work together in this late-fourteenth-century icon of Christ. Christ appears with his conventional long brown hair and beard. Iconographic attributes describe him further: The artist has sought to portray Christ in clothing from the ancient era in which he lived; Christ holds a Gospel book displaying his own words from Matthew 6:14–15; and there is a cross in Christ’s halo because he was crucified to save the world. Finally, the text identifies this as “Jesus Christ,” and also includes a more particular title: “the Wisdom of God.” Together, all these elements enabled Byzantine viewers to recognize the figure who gazed out and blessed them.
But while the use of artistic conventions, attributes, and inscriptions made icons recognizable through the centuries, it would be wrong to suggest that all icons were the same. Icons varied based on the scale and medium in which they were depicted, as well as across periods and regions, where they were often the product of local materials, workshops, and tastes.
Artists also regularly experimented with new compositions. Depictions of the Virgin and child, among the most popular subjects of Byzantine icons, took numerous forms through the centuries.
Sometimes, artists invented new images that were widely imitated. The Anastasis (Greek for “Resurrection”), which depicted Christ descending into Hades (the underworld) to raise the dead from their tombs, first appeared in the eighth century and has remained a common image in Orthodox churches to this day.
But another example, the unique tenth-century ivory Crucifixion at The Metropolitan Museum of Art, which drew imagery from church hymnography to show Christ’s cross impaling a personification of Hades, was apparently one of a kind. No comparable images survive.
Icons had a wide range of functions in Byzantium. Their readability enabled them to illustrate Biblical texts, hagiographies, and theological ideas. It was a truism in the middle ages that images functioned as “books for the illiterate.” Before the age of the printing press and inexpensive books, few people owned books, and many could not read. While biblical passages were read aloud in church services, icons offered visual depictions of biblical events that all could see whenever they entered a church.
Icons also served as a focus for prayer and devotion, both in church services and in private settings. The frontality of portrait icons facilitated face-to-face encounters between holy figures and worshippers who wished to address the holy figures in prayer. The eleventh-century Theodore Psalter anachronistically imagines such an encounter between King David (from the Hebrew Bible) and a Byzantine icon of Christ.
In many instances, the saints were believed to work miracles through their icons. Numerous Byzantine texts describe the figures in icons coming alive to defend or heal people. Icons could even be worn as jewelry, and inscriptions suggest that their wearers hoped these wearable icons would protect or heal them.
And in a culture with no notion of separation of church and state, icons frequently blurred the boundaries between religious and political imagery. Icons were carried in public processions, processed around city walls in times of distress, and even carried into battle. A fourteenth-century fresco at Markov Manastir in North Macedonia depicts both the Byzantine emperor and Church officials in procession with an icon of the Virgin and Child. In Hagia Sophia, the great cathedral of the Byzantine capital, mosaics depicted haloed emperors and empresses within the same frame as Christ and the Virgin. Icons of Christ even appeared on Byzantine coins during the reign of Justinian II around the turn of the eighth century, where God and emperor were literally on two sides of the same coin.
Increasingly in the Late Byzantine periods, wealthy patrons affixed thin pieces of precious metal, or “revetments,” to icons as a way to honor the holy figures depicted. These metallic adornments often included ornamental motifs, additional icons, and sometimes even images of the patrons and poetic inscriptions known as epigrams, which recorded the donor’s prayers.
An icon in the Tretyakov Gallery in Moscow preserves silver revetment from thirteenth- or fourteenth-century Constantinople, although a later, fifteenth-century painting has replaced the original, which was likely lost or damaged. This revetment covers much of the wooden surface with a swirling filigree pattern, and smaller icons of various saints populate the icon’s frame. Two full-length portraits of the Byzantine donors appear in the lower corners of the frame.
After the fall of Byzantium to the Ottomans in 1453, the tradition of affixing precious materials to icons endured in places like Russia, where the icon cover was referred to as an oklad or riza. Russian oklads were often elaborate, covering the entire icon except for the face and hands of the holy figures represented, as seen with a seventeenth-century icon depicting the face of Christ at The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
Use and the passage of time often left icons worn out or damaged. Icon varnish tended to darken with age, obscuring the icon’s image. In an age when modern restoration techniques did not yet exist, artists often painted directly over the darkened images so that an icon could be seen and used once again.
But at the turn of the twentieth century, new restoration techniques enabled conservators to uncover the original layers of many old, overpainted icons. In Russia, countless icons were stripped of oklads, darkened varnish, and layers of overpainting to reveal their original images. Such was the case with the fifteenth-century icon of the Trinity attributed to Andrew Rublev, restored in 1904 and again in 1918. While the restoration of Rublev’s Trinity revealed the brilliant colors and balanced composition of the original image, it also erased the many acts of devotion and overpainting that occurred through centuries, to which nail holes across the scarred surface of the image still attest. Walking through museums in Russia, one finds that many icons bear similar nail holes that once affixed oklads to the icons’ surfaces.
Many of Russia’s newly-restored icons were transferred from churches and exhibited in museums, which drastically changed the circumstances of their viewing. Such newly cleaned icons offered art historians valuable insights about the past and inspired modern artists in the present. After viewing an exhibition with icons in Russia in 1911, Henri Matisse famously commented: “French artists should come to study in Russia: Italy offers less in this field.”
Both the restoration of icons and their subsequent interpretation in the twentieth century were strongly influenced by modern tastes and theories of art. Today, the earliest painted image is prized, while the oklad is often dismissed as an ornamental addition that is foreign to the nature of the painted icon. Drawing parallels with modern art, art historians and critics like Clement Greenberg described icons as non-naturalistic, and many art historians have interpreted this aspect of icons as symbolizing spirituality and the figures in icons as distant from viewers.
More recently though, art historians have noted that the Byzantines consistently described the sacred figures in icons as accurate and lifelike.
Preaching in 867 about a new mosaic installed in the apse of Hagia Sophia following the Triumph of Orthodoxy over Iconoclasm, patriarch Photios, the leader of the Byzantine Church, stated:
With such exactitude has the art of painting, which is a reflection of inspiration from above, set up a lifelike imitation…You might think her not incapable of speaking, even if one were to ask her, “How didst thou give birth and remainest a virgin?” To such an extent have the lips been made flesh by the colors…Photios, Homily 17
Such texts remind us that the ways we view artworks are often highly contingent on our own cultural contexts.
Holy Image, Hallowed Ground. URL: https://vimeo.com/9708525
“Icons,” National Gallery of Art
Cite this page as: Dr. Evan Freeman, “Icons, an introduction,” in Smarthistory, December 3, 2020, accessed October 31, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/icons-introduction/.
The Byzantine Empire spanned more than a millennium and penetrated geographic regions far from the capital of Constantinople. As a result, Byzantine art includes works created from the fourth century to the fifteenth century and from such diverse regions as Greece, the Italian peninsula, the eastern edge of the Slavic world, the Middle East, and North Africa. So what is Byzantine art and what do we mean when we use this term?
Events from the lives of Jesus Christ and his mother, the Virgin Mary, were among the most frequently depicted subjects in Byzantine art. Many of these events were recorded in the four Gospels in the Christian Bible, but others were also inspired by non-biblical texts, such as the “Protoevangelion of James,” which were nevertheless read by the Byzantines. The Byzantines commemorated these events as church feasts according to the liturgical calendar each year (as does the Eastern Orthodox Church today, which is heir to Byzantium’s religious tradition).
Depictions of these events appeared in a wide range of media, on different scales, and in public and private settings. It would be inaccurate to imply that these scenes were always the same; they varied depending on the circumstances of their production as well as the periods in which they were made. Acknowledging the risk of oversimplifying an artistic tradition that endured for more than a millennium, this essay nevertheless seeks to introduce the stories and common features in Byzantine depictions of the lives of Christ and the Virgin.
The Birth of the Virgin | The Washing of the Feet |
Drawn from non-biblical accounts such as the “Protoevangelion of James,” the Birth of the Virgin is commemorated as a Church feast on September 8. Anna, the Virgin’s mother, lies on a bed. Midwives bathe the newborn Mary. Other women bustle about, attending to Anna. Joachim, the Virgin’s father, sometimes appears as well. At Studenica Monastery in Serbia, Joachim stands beside the Virgin as she lies in a cradle after her bath in the lower right.
The Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple is based on non-biblical texts and is commemorated on November 21. The Virgin Mary is a child. She processes with her parents, Joachim and Anna, along with several candle-bearing maidens, toward the Jewish temple. Joachim and Anna offer the Virgin to God and the priest Zacharias receives her into the temple. As the narrative continues, Mary dwells within the temple, where an angel feeds her bread. The earliest examples of this image date to the tenth century. The hymnography for the feast emphasizes that the Virgin herself became a temple by allowing God to dwell in her when she conceived Christ. At the Chora Monastery, the procession to the temple takes a circular form to accommodate the vault where it appears. (view annotated image)
The Annunciation (Greek: Evangelismos) is recorded in Luke 1:26–38 and commemorated on March 25. Simple compositions, such as the mosaic found at Daphni, show the archangel Gabriel approaching the Virgin Mary to announce that the Holy Spirit will come upon her and that she will conceive the Son of God, Jesus. Other images show the Spirit descending as a dove on a ray of light. Artists sometimes include additional details from a non-biblical text known as the “Protoevangelion of James.” The Virgin may hold scarlet thread to weave a veil for the temple or appear near a well where she is drawing water when the angel approaches.
The Nativity of Christ depicts the birth of Jesus. It is drawn primarily from Matthew 1:18–2:12 and Luke 2:1–20 and is commemorated on December 25. The newborn Christ appears in a manger (a feeding trough for animals) near an ox and ass. The Virgin sits or reclines near Christ, but Joseph is usually relegated to the periphery (appearing in the lower left corner in the miniature from the Menologion of Basil II) to minimize his role in the Christ’s birth (emphasizing Mary’s virginity). The narrative continues with one or two midwives bathing Christ. Angels announce the good news to shepherds. The star that guided the Magi from the east shines down on the Christ child. (view annotated image)
The Baptism of Christ (sometimes called “Theophany” or “Epiphany”) is recounted in Matthew 3:13–17, Mark 1:9–11, and Luke 3:21–22, and is commemorated by the Eastern Orthodox Church on January 6. John the Baptist, or “Forerunner,” baptizes Christ in the Jordan River, while attending angels stand nearby. The Holy Spirit descends on Christ in the form of a dove, while the words of God the Father identifying Jesus as his Son are represented by a hand blessing from the heavens. An ax appears with a tree, referencing the Baptist’s ominous words, “Even now the ax is lying at the root of the trees; every tree therefore that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire” (Matthew 3:10). Sometimes, as at Hosios Loukas Monastery, the Jordan River is personified as a human figure in the water, corresponding with its personification in the hymnography for the feast. A cross also appears in the water at Hosios Loukas as a reference to the cross and column at the pilgrimage site associated with this event in Palestine, as described by a sixth-century pilgrim named Theodosius.
The Passion (“suffering”) refers to Christ’s sacrificial death on the cross and the period leading up to it. It is commemorated annually during Holy Week, whose dates vary from year to year based on the lunar cycle.
The Raising of Lazarus (a friend of Christ’s) from the dead is recorded in John 11:38–44. The Eastern Orthodox Church commemorates this miracle of Christ on the Saturday before Palm Sunday. Christ, trailed by the Apostles, calls forth the shrouded Lazarus from the tomb, as seen in the templon beam fragment in Athens. Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus, kneel at Christ’s feet. Additional figures open the tomb and free Lazarus from his grave clothes. One bystander usually holds his nose because of the stink of Lazarus’s decomposing body.
The Entry into Jerusalem is recounted in Matthew 21:1–11, Mark 11:1–10, Luke 19:29–40, and John 12:12–19 and is commemorated on Palm Sunday, the Sunday before Pascha (Easter). Jesus rides into the city of Jerusalem on a donkey. A crowd hails him, throwing cloaks and palms on the road before him. Children often climb among the palm trees, as in the Berlin ivory.
The Last Supper, “Mystical Supper,” or just “Supper” (Greek: Deipnos), represents the meal that Christ shared with his disciplines before his crucifixion, which is recorded in Matthew 26:20–29, Mark 14:17–25, Luke 22: 14–23, and I Corinthians 11:23–26, and is commemorated on Holy Thursday (known as “Maundy Thursday” in the Latin church). Judas reaches to dip his food in a bowl, which Christ identifies as a sign of betrayal. The table frequently takes the form of a late-antique, C-shaped “sigma” table as at the church of the Panagia Phorbiotissa in Asinou, Cyprus. Often, a large fish appears on the table, which may illustrate the ancient Christian use of the Greek word for “fish” (ichthys) as an acronym for “Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior.” The Last Supper is typically interpreted as the first celebration of the Eucharist.
The Washing of the Feet occurred during the Last Supper, according to John 13:2–15. In the Gospel account, Peter resists letting Jesus wash his feet. But Christ explains: “If I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example” (John 13:14–15). The mosaic at Hosios Loukas Monastery shows Christ in the act of washing Peter’s feet.
The Crucifixion depicts Christ’s death on the cross, described Matthew 27:32-56, Mark 15:21-41, Luke 23:26-49, John 19:16-37, and commemorated on Holy Friday (known as “Good Friday” in the west) during Holy Week. Simpler representations of the scene include the Virgin and John the Evangelist, illustrating John’s account. The sun and moon or angels appear in the sky above. More complex compositions, such as that found on a templon beam at Sinai, incorporate other women who followed Christ as well as Roman soldiers, such as Saint Longinus who converted to Christianity. John recounts how one of the soldiers pierced Christ with a spear, spilling blood and water from his side (John 19:34-35). The event unfolds at Golgotha, the “Place of the Skull,” outside of the city walls of Jerusalem (which sometimes appear in the background). Some depictions of this scene include a skull at the foot of the cross, which tradition identifies as the skull of Adam (the first man), reflecting the Christian belief that Christ is the “New Adam” as savior of humankind.
The Deposition from the Cross depicts Christ’s body being removed from the cross after his crucifixion. As at the church of Saint Panteleimon at Nerezi, the composition often includes the Virgin and John the Evangelist (who were present at Christ’s crucifixion), as well as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, two followers of Jesus. It is based on Gospel accounts that describe Joseph of Arimathea burying Christ’s body in Joseph’s own tomb (Matthew 27:57-61, Mark 15:42-47, Luke 23:50-56, John 19:38-42). (view annotated image)
The Lamentation, or Threnos, depicts Christ’s mother and other followers mourning over Christ’s dead body following the crucifixion. As at the church of Saint Panteleimon at Nerezi, the Lamentation often includes John the Evangelist (who was present at the Crucifixion), as well as Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus, two followers of Jesus who helped remove his body from the cross and bury him.
The Resurrection of Christ from the dead occurred on the third day after his crucifixion according to New Testament accounts, and is celebrated each year on Pascha (Easter). The Gospels describe women who followed Jesus as the first witnesses to Christ’s resurrection: Matthew 28:1–10; Mark 16:1–8; Luke 23:55–24:12; John 20:1–18. Early Christian art depicts the myrrhbearing women bringing spices to anoint Christ’s body but discovering that the tomb is empty. An angel tells them that Christ has risen from the dead. At Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, the empty tomb is envisioned as a rotunda, likely a reference to the Roman emperor Constantine’s Church of the Holy Sepulchre that marked the site of Christ’s resurrection in Jerusalem.
The Anastasis (Greek for “resurrection”), also known as the “Harrowing of Hades” or “Harrowing of Hell,” became a standard resurrection composition from the eighth century onward. Based largely on non-biblical sources, the scene shows Christ descending into Hades (the underworld)—sometimes carrying his cross as an instrument of salvation—to raise the dead from their tombs. Locks and hinges lie broken underfoot as Christ tramples the broken gates of the underworld that once imprisoned the dead. In some images, Christ also tramples the personified figure of Hades, who represents death. At the Chora Monastery, Christ reaches with both hands to raise Adam and Eve (the first humans) from their tombs. Righteous figures from the Hebrew Bible and Christian New Testament—usually David, Solomon, and John the Baptist—stand nearby. The image corresponded with the chief hymn of Pascha (Easter): “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life!”
The Incredulity of Thomas appears in John 20:24–29, and is commemorated in the Eastern Orthodox Church the Sunday after Pascha (Easter). When some of the disciples claim to have encountered the risen Christ, the Apostle Thomas expresses doubt, stating: “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands, and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). A week later, Jesus appears and invites Thomas to touch his wounds: the moment depicted in this mosaic at Hosios Loukas Monastery. Thomas exclaims: “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28).
The Ascension of Christ into heaven, following his resurrection from the dead, is described in Luke 24:50–53 and Acts 1:9–12 and is commemorated on the Thursday that falls forty days after Pascha (Easter). The iconography derives from pre-Christian imperial apotheosis scenes (for example, on the Arch of Titus in Rome). Christ appears within a mandorla and is borne heavenward by angels, as seen in the miniature from the Getty Museum. The Virgin and Apostles stand on earth below. The ascension often appeared in church vaults, corresponding with the Byzantine interpretation of the church as a microcosm with the vaults representing the heavens.
Pentecost (literally “the fiftieth day”) depicts the descent of the Holy Spirit on the Apostles as described in Acts 2 and is commemorated fifty days after Pascha (Easter). The Holy Spirit takes the form of tongues of fire. Sometimes the Virgin appears with the Apostles, although she is not present in the biblical account. In Acts, the Holy Spirit inspires the Apostles to preach the crucified and risen Christ in different languages so that all can understand. In artistic representations of the event, figures representing different “tribes” and “tongues,” or a single figure personifying the entire “cosmos,” (seen in this miniature from the Getty) receive the Apostles’ words. Sometimes, the “prepared throne” (Hetoimasia) is included as the source from which the flames descend.
The Dormition (Greek: Koimēsis, literally “falling asleep”) represents the death of the Virgin Mary, described in non-biblical texts and commemorated on August 15. The Virgin lies on her funeral bier surrounded by the Apostles. Christ stands behind the Virgin, receiving her soul, which takes the form of a swaddled infant. Later icons sometimes include additional details such as the Apostles miraculously borne to the scene on clouds and the gates of heaven opening to receive the Virgin. Tenth-century ivories from Constantinople like this one are among the earliest depictions of the Dormition.
Ravenna
Mt Sinai
Officially Byzantine architecture begins with Constantine, but the seeds for its development were sown at least a century before the Edict of Milan granted toleration to Christianity in 313 C.E. Although limited physical evidence survives, a combination of archaeology and texts may help us to understand the formation of an architecture in service of the new religion.
The domus ecclesiae, or house-church, most often represented an adaptation of an existing Late Antique residence to include a meeting hall and perhaps a baptistery. Most examples are known from texts; while there are significant remains in Rome, where they were known as tituli, most early sites of Christian worship were subsequently rebuilt and enlarged to give them a suitably public character, thus destroying much of the physical evidence.
Synagogues and mithraia from the period are considerably better preserved. A notable exception is the Christian House at Dura-Europos in Syria, built c. 200 on a typical courtyard plan. Modified c. 230, two rooms were joined to form a longitudinal meeting hall; another was provided with a piscina (a basin for water) to function as a baptistery for Christian initiation.
Another house-church, considerably modified, was the house of St. Peter at Capharnaum, visited by early pilgrims.
Better evidence survives for burial customs, which were of prime concern in a religion that promised salvation after death. Unlike pagans, who practiced both cremation and inhumation (burial), Christians insisted upon inhumation because of the belief in the bodily resurrection of the dead at the end of days. In addition to areae (above-ground cemeteries) and catacombs (underground cemeteries), Christians required settings for commemorative banquets or refrigeria, a carry-over from pagan practices.
The earliest Christian burials at the Roman catacombs were situated amid those of other religions, but by the end of the second century, exclusively Christian cemeteries are known, beginning with the Catacomb of St. Callixtus on the Via Appia, c. 230. Originally well organized with a series of parallel corridors carved into the tufa (a porous rock common in Italy), the catacombs expanded and grew more labyrinthine over the subsequent centuries. Within, the most common form of tomb was a simple, shelf-like loculus organized in multiple tiers in the walls of the corridors. Small cubicula surrounded with arcosolium tombs provided setting for wealthier burials and provide evidence of social stratification within the Christian community.
Above ground, a simple covered structure provided a setting for the refrigeria, such as the triclia excavated beneath S. Sebastiano, by the entrance to the catacombs.
The development of a cult of martyrs with the early church led to the development of commemorative monuments, usually called martyria, but also referred to in texts as tropaia and heroa. Among those in Rome, the most important was the tropaion marking the tomb of St. Peter in the necropolis on the Vatican Hill.
By the time of the Tetrarchy, Christian buildings had become more visible and more public, but without the scale and lavishness of their official successors. In Rome, the meeting hall of S. Crisogono seems to have been founded c. 300 as a visible Christian monument. Similarly in Nikomedia at the same time, the Christian meeting hall was prominent enough to be seen from the imperial palace. Just as the administrative structure of the church and the basic character of Christian worship were established in the early centuries, pre-Constantinian building laid the groundwork for later architectural developments, addressing the basic functions that would be of prime concern in later centuries: communal worship, initiation into the cult, burial, and the commemoration of the dead.
With Constantine’s acceptance of Christianity as an official religion of the Roman Empire in 313, he committed himself to the patronage of buildings meant to compete visually with their pagan counterparts. In major centers like Rome, this meant the construction of huge basilicas capable of holding congregations numbering into the thousands. Although the symbolic associations of the Christian basilica with its Roman predecessors have been debated, it thematized power and opulence in ways comparable to but not exclusive to imperial buildings.
Formally, the basilica also stood in sharp contrast to the pagan temple, at which worship was conducted out of doors. The church basilica was essentially a meeting house, not a sacred structure, but a sacred presence was created by the congregation joining in common prayer—the people, not the building, comprised the ekklesia (the Greek word for “church”).
The Lateran basilica, originally dedicated to Christ, was begun c. 313 to serve as Rome’s cathedral, built on the grounds of an imperial palace, donated to be the residence of the bishop. Five-aisled in plan, the basilica’s tall nave was illuminated by clerestory windows, which rose above coupled side aisles along the flanks and terminated in an apse at the west end, which held seats for the clergy. Before the apse, the altar was surrounded by a silver enclosure, decorated with statues of Christ and the Apostles.
In addition to congregational churches, among which the Lateran stands at the forefront, a second type of basilica (or ambulatory basilica) appeared in Rome at the same time, set within the cemeteries outside the city walls, apparently associated with the venerated graves of martyrs. S. Sebastiano, probably originally the Basilica Apostolorum, which may have been begun immediately before the Peace of the Church, rose on the site of the earlier triclia, in which graffiti testify to the special veneration of Peter and Paul at the site. These so-called cemetery basilicas provided a setting for commemorative funeral banquets. Essentially covered burial grounds, the floors of the basilicas were paved with graves and their walls enveloped by mausolea.
In plan they were three-aisled, with the aisle continuing into an ambulatory surrounding the apse at the west end. By the end of the fourth century, however, the practice of the funerary banquet was suppressed, and the grand cemetery basilicas were either abandoned or transformed into parish churches.
Constantine also supported the construction of monumental martyria.
Most important in the West was St. Peter’s basilica in Rome, begun c. 324, originally functioning as a combination of cemetery basilica and martyrium, sited so that the focal point was the marker at the tomb of Peter, covered by a ciborium (canopy) and located at the chord of the western apse. The enormous five-aisled basilica served as the setting for burials and the refrigeria. To this was juxtaposed a transept—essentially a transverse, single-aisled nave—which provided access to the saint’s tomb. The eastern atrium seems to have been slightly later in date.
In the Holy Land, major shrines similarly juxtaposed congregational basilicas with centrally-planned commemorative structures housing the venerated site. At Bethlehem (c. 324), a short five-aisled basilica terminated in an octagon marking the site of Christ’s birth. At Jerusalem, Constantine’s church of the Holy Sepulchre (dedicated 336) marked the sites of Christ’s Crucifixion, Entombment, and Resurrection, and consisted of a sprawling complex with an atrium opening from the main street of the city; a five-aisled, galleried congregational basilica; an inner courtyard with the rock of Calvary in a chapel at its southeast corner; and the aedicula of the Tomb of Christ, freed from the surrounding bedrock, to the west. The Anastasis Rotunda, enclosing the Tomb aedicula, was completed only after Constantine’s death.
Most martyria were considerably simpler, often no more than a small basilica. At Constantine’s Eleona church on the Mount of Olives, for example, a simple basilica was constructed above the cave where Christ had taught the Apostles.
Pilgrims’ accounts, such as that left by the Spanish nun Egeria (c. 380), provide a fascinating view of life at the shrines. These great buildings played an important role in the development of the cult of relics, but they were less important for the subsequent development of Byzantine architecture.
In addition to his acceptance of Christianity, Constantine’s other great achievement was the establishment of a new imperial residence and subsequent capital city in the East, strategically located on the straits of the Bosphorus. Nova Roma or Constantinople, as laid out in 324-330, expanded the urban armature of the old city of Byzantion westward to fill the peninsula between the Sea of Marmara and the Golden Horn, combining elements of Roman and Hellenistic city planning.
Like old Rome, the new city of Constantine was built on seven hills and divided into fourteen districts; its imperial palace lay next to its hippodrome, which was similarly equipped with a royal viewing box. As in Rome, there were a senate house, a Capitol, great baths, and other public amenities; imperial fora provided its public spaces; triumphal columns, arches, and monuments, including a colossus of the emperor as Apollo-Helios, and a variety of dedications imparted mimetic associations with the old capital.
Constantine’s own mausoleum was established in a position that encouraged a comparison with that of Augustus’s mausoleum in Rome; the adjoining cruciform basilica—the church of the Holy Apostles—was apparently added by his sons. Beyond the much-altered porphyry column that once stood at the center of his forum, however, virtually nothing survives from the time of Constantine; the city continued to expand long after its foundation.
by DR. ROBERT G. OUSTERHOUT
After the time of Constantine, a standardized church architecture emerged, with the basilica for congregational worship dominating construction.
There were numerous regional variations: in Rome and the West, for example, basilicas usually were elongated without galleries, as at S. Sabina in Rome (522–32) or S. Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna (c. 490).
In the East the buildings were more compact and galleries were more common, as at St. John Stoudios in Constantinople (458) or the Achieropoiitos in Thessaloniki (early fifth century)
By the fifth century, the liturgy had become standardized, but, again, with some regional variations, evident in the planning and furnishing of basilicas. In general, the area of the altar was enclosed by a templon barrier, with semicircular seating for the officiants (the synthronon) in the curvature of the apse. The altar itself was covered by a ciborium. Within the nave, a raised pulpit or ambo provided a setting for the Gospel readings.
Baptisteries also appear as prominent buildings throughout the Empire, necessary for the elaborate ceremonies addressed to adult converts and catechumens. Most common was a symbolically resonant, octagonal building housing the font and attached to the cathedral, as with the Orthodox (or Neonian) Baptistery at Ravenna, c. 400–450. In Rome, the Lateran’s baptistery was an independent, octagonal structure that stood north of the basilica’s apse. Built under Constantine, the baptistery expanded under Pope Sixtus III in the fifth century with the addition of an ambulatory around its central structure. The inscription St. Ambrose composed for his baptistery at Milan clarifies the symbolism of such eight-sided buildings:
The eight-sided temple has risen for sacred purposes
The octagonal font is worthy for this task.
It is seemly that the baptismal hall should arise in this number
By which true health returns to people
By the light of the resurrected Christinscription attributed to St. Ambrose of Milan
Associated with death and resurrection, the planning type derives from Late Roman mausolea, although not directly from the Anastasis Rotunda. Variations abound: at Butrint (in modern Albania) and Nocera (in southwestern Italy), for example, the baptisteries have ambulatories; in North Africa, the architecture tends to remain simple, while the form of the font is elaborated. With the change to infant baptism and a simplified ceremony, however, monumental baptisteries cease to be constructed after the sixth century.
Although the church gradually eliminated the great funeral banquets at the graves of martyrs, the cult of martyrs was manifest in other ways, notably the importance of pilgrimage and the dissemination of relics. In spite of this, there was not a standard architectural form for the martyria, which instead seem to depend on site-specific conditions or regional developments. In Rome, for example, S. Paolo fuori le mura (St. Paul Outside the Walls), begun 384, follows the model of St. Peter’s in adding a transept to a huge five-aisled basilica.
The desire for privileged burial perpetuated the tradition of Late Antique mausolea, which were often octagonal or centrally planned. In Rome the fourth-century mausolea of Helena and Constantina were attached to cemetery basilicas.
Cruciform chapels seem to be a new creation, with a shape that derived its meaning from the life-giving Cross, a relationship emphasized in the well-preserved Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, built c. 425, in Ravenna, which was originally attached to a cruciform church dedicated to S. Croce.
In Constantinople, the successors of Constantine were buried in the rotunda at the church of the Holy Apostles or its dependencies.
Monasticism began to play an increasingly important role in society, but from the perspective of architecture, early monasteries lacked systematic planning and were dependent on site-specific conditions. The coenobitical system (communal monasticism) included living quarters, with cells for the monks, as well as a refectory for common dining and a church or chapel for common worship. Evidence is preserved in the desert communities of Egypt and Palestine. At the Red Monastery at Sohag, the formal spaces are contained within a fortress-like complex, although it is unclear where with or without the enclosure the monks actually lived. In the Judean Desert, a variety of hermits’ cells are preserved – simple caves carved into the rough landscape.
Defensive architecture followed Roman practices.
The walls of Constantinople, added by Theodosius II (412–13) stand as a singular achievement, combining two lines of defensive walls with a moat. In a like manner, the system of aqueducts and cisterns at Constantinople expanded upon established Roman technology to create the most extensive water system in Antiquity.
Cite this page as: Dr. Robert G. Ousterhout, “Early Byzantine architecture after Constantine,” in Smarthistory, June 8, 2020, accessed October 31, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/early-byzantine-architecture-after-constantine
Although standardized church basilicas continued to be constructed, by the end of the fifth century, two important trends emerge in church architecture: the centralized plan, into which a longitudinal axis is introduced, and the longitudinal plan, into which a centralizing element is introduced.
Both trends are further developed during the reign of Justinian (reigned 527 to 565). HH. Sergios and Bakchos in Constantinople, completed before 536, and S. Vitale in Ravenna, completed c. 546/48, for example, are double-shelled octagons (view plan of San Vitale) of increasing geometric sophistication, with masonry domes covering their central spaces, perhaps originally combined with wooden roofs for the side aisles and galleries.
Hagia Sophia, Constantinople
Several monumental basilicas of the period included domes and vaulting throughout, most notably at Hagia Sophia, built 532-37 by the mechanikoi Anthemios and Isidoros, which combines elements of the central plan and the basilica on an unprecedented scale.
Its unique design focused on a daring central dome of slightly more than 100 feet in diameter, raised above pendentives, and braced to the east and west by half-domes. The aisles and galleries are screened by colonnades (rows of columns), with exedrae (semicircular recesses) at the corners. Following the innovative trends in Late Roman architecture, the structural system concentrates the loads at critical points, opening the walls with large windows.
With glistening marble revetments on all flat surfaces and more than seven acres of gold mosaic on the vaults, the effect was magical—whether in daylight or by candlelight, with the dome seeming to float aloft with no discernable means of support; accordingly Procopios writes that the interior impression was “altogether terrifying.”
At H. Sophia, textual accounts suggest that the first dome, which fell in 557, was a structurally daring, shallow pendentive dome, in which the curvature continued from the pendentives, but with a ring of windows at its base.
A more stable, hemispherical dome replaced the original—essentially that which survives today, with partial collapses and repairs in the west and east quadrants in the tenth and fourteenth centuries.
Although H. Polyeuktos, built in Constantinople by Justinian’s rival Juliana Anicia, is normally reconstructed as a domed basilica—and thus suggested to be the forerunner of H. Sophia—it was unlikely domed, although it was certainly its predecessor in lavishness.
Five-domed churches
The spatial unit formed by the dome on pendentives could also be used as a design module, as at Justinian’s rebuilding of the church of the Holy Apostles in Constantinople, in which five domes covered the cruciform building.
A similar design was employed in the rebuilding of St. John’s basilica at Ephesus, completed before 565, which because of its elongated nave took on a six-domed design.
The late eleventh-century S. Marco in Venice follows this sixth-century scheme.
In spite of design innovations, traditional architecture continued in the sixth century with the wooden roofed basilica continuing as the standard church type.
At St. Catherine’s at Mt. Sinai, built c. 540, the church preserves its wooden roof and much of its decoration. The three-aisled plan incorporated numerous subsidiary chapels flanking the aisles.
At the sixth-century Cathedral of Caricin Grad, the three-aisled basilica included a vaulted sanctuary area, with the earliest securely dated example of pastophoria: apsed chapels—known as the prothesis and diakonikon—which flanked the central altar area to form a tripartite sanctuary. This tripartite form that would become standard in later centuries.
Church types of the subsequent period tend to follow in simplified form the grand developments of the age of Justinian. H. Sophia in Thessalonikie for example, built less than a century later than its namesake, is both considerably smaller and heavier, as is the Koimesis church at Nicaea.
Both correct the basic problems in the structural design by including broad arches to brace the dome on all four sides.
Cite this page as: Dr. Beth Harris and Dr. Steven Zucker, “Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna,” in Smarthistory, May 18, 2021, accessed November 4, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/santapollinare-nuovo/. URL: https://youtu.be/1KjqeiseCuY
URL: https://youtu.be/HjwELgIh_qc
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Cite this page as: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Sant’Apollinare in Classe, Ravenna (Italy),” in Smarthistory, December 10, 2015, accessed November 4, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/santapollinare-in-classe-ravenna-italy/.
URL: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KTJi1jqimCw&t=3s
San Vitale is one of the most important surviving examples of Eastern Roman “Byzantine” Empire architecture and mosaic work. It was begun in 526 or 527 under Ostrogothic rule. It was consecrated in 547 and completed soon after.
One of the most famous images of political authority from the “middle ages“ is the mosaic of the Emperor Justinian and his court in the sanctuary of the church of San Vitale in Ravenna, Italy. This image is an integral part of a much larger mosaic program in the chancel (the space around the altar).
A major theme of this mosaic program is the authority of the emperor in the Christian plan of history.
The mosaic program can also be seen to give visual testament to the two major ambitions of Justinian’s reign: as heir to the tradition of Roman Emperors, Justinian sought to restore the territorial boundaries of the Empire. As the Christian Emperor, he saw himself as the defender of the faith. As such it was his duty to establish religious uniformity or Orthodoxy throughout the Empire.
In the chancel mosaic Justinian is posed frontally in the center. He is haloed and wears a crown and a purple imperial robe. He is flanked by members of the clergy on his left with the most prominent figure the Bishop Maximianus of Ravenna being labelled with an inscription. To Justinian’s right appear members of the imperial administration identified by the purple stripe, and at the very far left side of the mosaic appears a group of soldiers.
This mosaic thus establishes the central position of the Emperor between the power of the church and the power of the imperial administration and military. Like the Roman Emperors of the past, Justinian has religious, administrative, and military authority.
The clergy and Justinian carry in sequence from right to left a censer, the gospel book, the cross, and the bowl for the bread of the Eucharist. This identifies the mosaic as the so-called Little Entrance which marks the beginning of the Byzantine liturgy of the Eucharist. Justinian’s gesture of carrying the bowl with the bread of the Eucharist can be seen as an act of homage to the True King who appears in the adjacent apse mosaic.
Christ, dressed in imperial purple and seated on an orb signifying universal dominion, offers the crown of martyrdom to St. Vitale, but the same gesture can be seen as offering the crown to Justinian in the mosaic below. Justinian is thus Christ’s vice-regent on earth, and his army is actually the army of Christ as signified by the Chi-Rho on the shield.
Additional resources
Read a Reframing Art HIstory chapter about “Building new Romes: The Eastern Romans, Umayyads, and Carolingians.”
Read about the mosaic of Empress Theodora in San Vitale.
360 view of the apse (Columbia University).
360 view from the nave (Columbia University).
Nazanin Hedayat Munroe, Dress Styles in the Mosaics of San Vitale.
Sarah E. Bassett, Style and Meaning in the Imperial Panels at San Vitale.
Mosaics of San Vitale in Ravenna by Dr. Allen Farber.
Byzantium on the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Timeline of Art History.
View on Google Maps
Justinian mosaic, 540s, San Vitale, Ravenna (photo: byzantologist, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
The famed imperial mosaics in the church of San Vitale in Ravenna depict the sixth-century Byzantine empress Theodora across from her husband, the emperor Justinian. Empress and emperor appear at the center of each scene, larger than the other figures to show their importance, bedecked in imperial purple, and sporting lavish crowns framed by golden haloes. They process with clergy, courtiers, and soldiers into a church (although neither Justinian nor Theodora ever actually entered San Vitale in Ravenna, which was located far to the west of the Byzantine capital of Constantinople).
While this mosaic of the empress and her retinue in San Vitale is the only certain visual depiction of Theodora, several written descriptions of Theodora survive. The challenge for us today is interpreting these texts, because they diverge significantly in their depiction of the empress.
The writings of Prokopios of Caesarea, a historian during the reign of Justinian and Theodora, are our main source for their reign. Prokopios wrote several works, such as Wars and Buildings, which cast Justinian and Theodora in a favorable light and circulated widely. But Prokopios also authored a text known as the Secret History, or Anekdota (literally “unpublished things”), which was not initially intended for wide circulation and which attacked the imperial couple.
Prokopios’s Secret History survived from the Byzantine era to today in just one manuscript copy, suggesting that it was not widely reproduced in the Byzantine period. But in our time, the Secret History has become Prokopios’s most popular work, and one of the most widely read primary sources from Byzantine history.
Consider the following excerpts from primary sources, which illustrate how a writer or artist could depict the same subject in a positive or negative light. As you compare these depictions of Theodora, ask yourself why these texts and images were created, what details each work emphasizes, and possible agendas these works were created to serve.
Theodora’s physical appearance
The following two statements—both written by Prokopios—describe Theodora’s physical appearance. Such descriptions of a person’s outward appearance were especially loaded in the Byzantine Empire, where it was widely believed that physical beauty mirrored inner qualities such as virtue.
The statue [of Theodora] was indeed beautiful, but still inferior to the beauty of the Empress; for to express her loveliness in words or to portray it in a statue would be, for a mere human being, altogether impossible.
Prokopios, Buildings I.xi.2–6 |
Now Theodora was fair of face and in general attractive in appearance, but short of stature and lacking in color, being, however, not altogether pale but rather sallow, and her glance was always intense and made with contracted brows.
Prokopios, Secret History (Anekdota) x.11–2 |
Theodora’s patronage
An important duty for a Byzantine empress was undertaking charitable causes. Here you see Prokopios describe the same act of Theodora’s patronage of a women’s monastery in two very different ways.
And these Sovereigns have endowed this convent with an ample income of money, and have added many buildings most remarkable for their beauty and costliness, to serve as a consolation for the women, so that they never should be compelled to depart from the practice of virtue in any manner whatsoever.
Prokopios, Buildings I.ix.10 |
But Theodora also concerned herself to devise punishments against the body. Harlots, for instance, to the number of more than five hundred who plied their trade in the midst of the marketplace at the rate of three obols—just enough to live on—she gathered together, and sending them over to the opposite mainland she confined them to the Convent of Repentance, as it is called, trying there to compel them to adopt a new manner of life. And some of them threw themselves from a height at night and thus escaped the unwelcome transformation.
Prokopios, Secret History (Anekdota) xvii.5–6 |
Theodora’s public Image
In addition to being described as both beautiful and charitable, it was conventional in ancient and Byzantine rhetoric to portray a good empress as modest and poised in her demeanor. Consider these final two representations of Theodora: on the left, Prokopios’s account of Theodora before she became empress, and on the right, the artistic representation of Theodora as empress in San Vitale.
And often even in the theatre, before the eyes of the whole people, she stripped off her clothing and moved about naked through their midst, having only a girdle about her private parts and her groins, not, however, that she was ashamed to display these too to the populace, but because no person is permitted to enter there entirely naked, but must have at least a girdle about the groins.
Prokopios, Secret History (Anekdota) ix.20 |
Prokopios’s background and the rhetorical conventions of his time help illuminate these apparent contradictions in the primary sources above. Prokopios came to the Byzantine capital of Constantinople (modern Istanbul) from Caesarea in Palestine (modern Israel). He was well educated and may have belonged to a family of the old Roman aristocracy.
In Theodora’s time, writers like Prokopios trained in classical rhetoric—the Greco-Roman tradition of persuasion through the art of public speaking—that followed highly structured formulas. Their training from an early age focused on the ability to offer a positive and negative version of something equally well. Rhetoric textbooks taught writers how to spin facts to fit the larger purpose of a text.
Prokopios deploys established rhetorical formulas to praise Justinian and Theodora in Wars and Buildings while also criticizing the imperial couple in his Secret History. As modern readers, the apparent contradictions in these works might puzzle us as we seek to separate historical fact from fiction. But educated Byzantine readers of Prokopios’s time would have easily recognized the positive and negative accounts of the imperial couple as two different rhetorical genres known as encomium and invective, in effect, two different modes of speaking about the same subject.
Additionally, in the Roman world to which the Byzantine Empire was heir, it was a common political strategy to slander a wife or daughter in order to damage her husband or father. From the time of Rome’s first emperor, Augustus, detractors accused female members of the imperial family of engaging in prostitution as a way to try to diminish the emperor. If he can’t even control his own family—or so the rhetoric goes—how can he possibly rule the empire?
The Secret History, which includes many negative descriptions of Theodora, is also filled with accusations against her husband, the emperor Justinian. For example, the Secret History describes Justinian as a lord of the demons who allegedly wandered the imperial palace removing his head and carrying it in his arms. But while many modern readers have dismissed such fantastical descriptions of Justinian as a demon, they have often been willing to accept lurid descriptions of Theodora from the same text as truth. Modern fascination with these passages has also inspired popular depictions of Theodora in books, theater, and film.
The differing depictions of Theodora in the writings of Prokopios and the mosaics at San Vitale challenge us to consider how we approach primary sources from other periods and cultures. They remind us to be mindful of cultural conventions such as rhetoric before we accept their images and texts as literal, historical facts.
Cite this page as: Dr. Anne McClanan, “Empress Theodora, rhetoric, and Byzantine primary sources,” in Smarthistory, July 8, 2021, accessed October 31, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/theodora-rhetoric/.
Art and architecture of Saint Catherine’s Monastery at Mount Sinai
The Monastery of Saint Catherine is the oldest active Eastern Orthodox monastery in the world, renowned for its extraordinary holdings of Byzantine art.
The location of the monastery is significant for Christianity, Judaism, and Islam, because tradition identifies it as the place of the Burning Bush, a major biblical event where Moses encountered God:
Moses was keeping the flock of his father-in-law Jethro, the priest of Midian; he led his flock beyond the wilderness, and came to Horeb, the mountain of God. There the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire out of a bush; he looked, and the bush was blazing, yet it was not consumed. Then Moses said, “I must turn aside and look at this great sight, and see why the bush is not burned up.” When the Lord saw that he had turned aside to see, God called to him out of the bush, “Moses, Moses!” And he said, “Here I am.” Then he said, “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.” He said further, “I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.” And Moses hid his face, for he was afraid to look at God.
Exodus 3: 1-6 (NRSV)
The episode is represented in several artworks in the monastery’s collection, including an early thirteenth-century icon made of tempera and gold on wood. This image represents the moment when God spoke to Moses: “Come no closer! Remove the sandals from your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground” (Exodus 3:5, NRSV).
The Monastery of Saint Catherine was founded between 548–565 C.E., in the later years of the Byzantine emperor Justinian’s reign, part of a massive building program that he had initiated across the empire.
The monastery’s exterior walls and main church, which pilgrims can still see today, largely survive from the original, sixth-century phase of construction. A few elements came later (for example, the belfry was added in the 19th century).
The church follows the pattern of a basilica, having a rectangular plan. Monks have worshipped for 1,400 years inside this church.
Columns frame the central nave and above the altar is a recently-restored apse mosaic that might hint at the building’s original name. The mosaic depicts a moment in the Christian New Testament called the “Transfiguration,” in which Christ appears transformed by radiant light, an event witnessed by three of his apostles. The scene is set against a glimmering gold background. When the monastery was first built it might have been dedicated to the Transfiguration, which in Christian belief is like the Burning Bush in that it is a moment when God revealed himself to humanity.
Jesus took with him Peter and James and his brother John and led them up a high mountain, by themselves. And he was transfigured before them, and his face shone like the sun, and his clothes became dazzling white. Suddenly there appeared to them Moses and Elijah, talking with him…While he was still speaking, suddenly a bright cloud overshadowed them, and from the cloud a voice said, “This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him!” When the disciples heard this, they fell to the ground and were overcome by fear.Matthew 17:1-3, 5-6 (NRSV)
Later, in the 9th century, when the body of the revered Egyptian Saint Catherine of Alexandria was discovered, the monastery was given the name that it has kept until today.
During the Iconoclastic period of the eighth to ninth centuries, the Byzantine Empire, and particularly its capital city of Constantinople (modern Istanbul), was convulsed with the question of whether religious images with human figures (called “icons”) were appropriate, or whether such images were in effect idols, akin to the statues of gods in ancient Greece and Rome. In other words, did worshippers pray through icons to the holy figure represented, or did they pray to the physical image itself? The Iconoclasts (those who opposed images) attempted to ban icons and reportedly even destroyed some.
But by the time of the Iconoclastic controversy, the Sinai Peninsula, where Saint Catherine’s Monastery is located, was under Islamic rather than Byzantine control, enabling the monastery’s icons to escape Iconoclasm. Other factors, including the monastery’s isolated location, fortifications, continuous occupation by monks, as well as the dry climate of the region, all likely contributed to the preservation of icons at Sinai.
The sixth-century icon of Christ Blessing—or Christ “Pantokrator” (all-ruler), as this image would later become known—was painted using encaustic that enabled the artist to create a vivid sense of naturalism. This icon was painted by a highly skilled artist, and therefore might have been made in the capital city of Constantinople.
Christ raises his right hand to give a blessing. His other hand holds an elaborate manuscript, which probably takes the form of a contemporary Gospel book, emphasizing Christ’s identity as the embodied “Word” of God. This bearded, mature version of Christ—just one of several ways Christ appears in art before Iconoclasm—draws on pre-Christian traditions of rendering other male divinities such as Jupiter.
The Monastery of Saint Catherine preserves a number of rare Early Byzantine icons such as this.
After Iconoclasm, perhaps to avoid accusations of idolatry, Byzantine icons became less naturalistic. Compare this Middle Byzantine icon of the Heavenly Ladder with the Early Byzantine icon of Christ. Notice, for example, the ethereal, flat gold background in the icon of the Ladder that replaces the landscape hinted at behind the halo in the sixth-century Christ “Pantokrator.”
This icon of the Heavenly Ladder was made at the monastery of Saint Catherine in the late 12th century, and illustrates the process of spiritual ascent undertaken by monastics. The icon is based on a spiritual text of the same name, written by a monk called Saint John of the Ladder, who lived c. 579–649 and was a member of Saint Catherine’s Monastery. In his writing, John warns his fellow monks about temptations of the monastic life; in the icon of the Ladder, the artist depicts these temptations as elegantly silhouetted demons who attempt to tug the monks off the ladder as they climb toward Christ in the upper righthand corner.
This 13th-century icon depicts Saint Theodosia and is one of five icons at Saint Catherine’s that depict the same saint. Clearly, Saint Theodosia’s cult was popular at Sinai as it was elsewhere in the Byzantine world.
In this image, Theodosia wears the somber dress of a nun. Although her historical status is debated (she may have been legendary rather than an actual historical figure), to the Christian faithful she represents the challenges faced during Iconoclasm, when she reputedly died defending a famed icon of Christ in Constantinople. The cross she holds represents her martyrdom. She was also famous in the late Byzantine period for healing miracles attributed to her, further enhancing her appeal for worshippers.
The library of this centuries-old monastery houses many important medieval manuscripts in diverse languages such as Greek, Arabic, and Syriac. It continues to attract pilgrims from around the world—some of the current monks now in residence hail from exotic lands such as Texas.
Cite this page as: Dr. Anne McClanan, “Art and architecture of Saint Catherine’s Monastery at Mount Sinai,” in Smarthistory, September 22, 2020, accessed October 31, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/saint-catherines-monastery-sinai/.
Cite this page as: Dr. Steven Zucker and Dr. Beth Harris, “Theotokos mosaic, Hagia Sophia, Istanbul,” in Smarthistory, December 15, 2015, accessed November 2, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/theotokos-mosaic-hagia-sophia-istanbul/. URL: https://youtu.be/EmQ1TdoT-zE
The city of Constantinople, capital of the Eastern Roman (Byzantine) Empire since its foundation by Constantine in 330 C.E., was roiled by the Iconoclastic Controversy in the 8th and 9th centuries. Emperors, bishops, and many others debated whether images, or “icons,” of God and the saints were holy or heretical. Those in favor of images triumphed in 843. Soon after, a new church was built in Constantinople’s great imperial palace and adorned with rich mosaic icons. The church was dedicated to the Virgin of the Pharos, named with the Greek word for a lighthouse, since a lighthouse stood nearby. Around 864, patriarch Photios of Constantinople—the highest-ranking cleric in the empire—gushed about the church of the Pharos and its glittering mosaics: “It is as if one had entered heaven itself . . . and was illuminated by the beauty in all forms shining all around like so many stars, so is one utterly amazed.” Photios describes how his whirling to view the church produced the impression that the church itself was moving:
It seems that everything is in ecstatic motion, and the church itself is circling round. For the spectator, through his whirling about in all directions and being constantly astir, which he is forced to experience by the variegated spectacle on all sides, imagines that his personal condition is transferred to the object.Photios of Constantinople, Homily 10
Photios offers us a tantalizing impression of the Pharos church and a sense of how Byzantines viewed mosaics during this period.
While the church of the Pharos has been lost, three churches from around the eleventh century preserve much of their original mosaic programs, which were likely inspired by churches like the church of the Pharos in the capital. These three monuments—Hosios Loukas, Nea Moni, and Daphni—point to common trends in Middle Byzantine mosaics, while also demonstrating the flexibility of church decoration during this period.
Mosaics are patterns or images made of tesserae: small pieces of stone, glass, or other materials. They commonly adorned floors in antiquity but became popular decoration for church walls and ceilings in Byzantium, especially among wealthy patrons such as emperors.
In the Middle Byzantine period (c. 843–1204), domed, centrally planned churches became more popular than the long, hall-like basilicas of previous centuries. While basilicas created a strong horizontal axis between the entrance on one end and the altar at the other, domed churches added a vertical axis that prompted viewers to look upward. New decorative programs developed in tandem with this architectural trend, covering walls and domes with mosaics and frescos of holy figures in complex, new configurations. The lower portions of churches were often decorated with marble revetment (thin panels of marble, often beautifully colored).
Byzantine texts interpreted the domed church as a microcosm—a three-dimensional image of the cosmos—associating the sparkling gold vaults above with the heavens, and the colored marbles below with the earth. Within this framework, images often seem to be arranged hierarchically: with a heavenly Christ reigning above, events from sacred history unfolding below, and portraits of saints surrounding the worshippers in the lowest registers. Many of these images took on additional meanings as church services unfolded.
The mosaicists who decorated these churches made no effort to create illusionistic backdrops for the holy figures, as one often finds in works from the Italian Renaissance, such as Masaccio’s Holy Trinity fresco. Instead, the holy figures situated in the curves and facets of these Middle Byzantine churches appear against a gold ground. Often, these prophets, saints, and angels seem to face and even communicate with each other across the space of the church. Such “spatial icons”—as the art historian Otto Demus famously described them—created the impression that the holy figures occupied the same physical space as the worshippers.
The monastery of Hosios Loukas, located in central Greece, is probably the oldest of the three churches. It is named for St. Loukas of Steiris, a local monastic saint who lived on this site and died in 953. Two connected churches survive here. The older church, dedicated to the Virgin and located to the north, features a cross-in-square plan. The katholikon church, built to the south in the eleventh century, utilizes a larger, octagon-domed plan (read more about these church types). The katholikon church retains many of its mosaics, undoubtedly the result of rich patronage. St. Luke’s body was interred between the two churches, and the monastery attracted pilgrims who sought the saint’s healing.
Worshippers entered the katholikon through the “narthex,” a vestibule at the western end of the building. Here, they encountered portraits of saints and large images of Christ’s Passion and Resurrection: Christ washing his disciples’ feet, the Crucifixion, the Anastasis, and the incredulous Thomas touching the wounds of the risen Christ.
Worshippers then passed beneath a large mosaic of Christ Pantokrator to enter the main part of the church, or “naos.” Christ displays an open book that proclaims him to be the “light of the world” (John 8:12). The mosaic’s gold tesserae reflect sunlight from the front door in the daytime, and flickering candlelight at night.
A large fresco of Christ surrounded by angels occupies the heavenly space of the dome in the naos. This fresco may replicate the original dome mosaics, which have been lost. Four squinches beneath the dome displayed mosaic images from the life of Christ. The Annunciation likely once adorned the northeast squinch but has been lost. The mosaics in the other three squinches depict Christ’s Nativity, Presentation in the Jewish Temple, and Baptism.
Various saints appear below. An abundance of monastic saints—including St. Loukas himself—reflects the building’s function as a monastery church.
Proceeding through the naos, worshippers saw an image of the descent of the Holy Spirit on the apostles at Pentecost in a smaller dome above the altar. The Virgin and Child sit enthroned in the apse behind the altar, a reminder that God became a human being for the salvation of the world. During the Divine Liturgy, this image of Christ’s incarnation took on new significance as the bread and wine also became the body and blood of Christ.
The monastery of Daphni, located just northwest of Athens, was likely the last of the three churches to be built, probably constructed between 1050–1150. Little is known about the foundation of this cross-in-square church.
Here, the narthex combines scenes from the lives of Christ and the Virgin, suggesting the church may have been dedicated to Mary. Notably, the Last Supper and Presentation of the Virgin in the Temple (where she was fed with heavenly bread by an angel) both appear on the eastern wall of the narthex, where worshippers would have seen them as they entered the church. Such images were meant to connect past events from sacred history with the celebration of the Eucharist in the present: Christ sharing bread and wine with his apostles at the Last Supper and Virgin eating heavenly bread in the temple were both understood to prefigure and symbolize the Eucharist. The appearance of the Foot Washing in the narthexes of all three of these churches may reflect the use of this part of the church for a ritual foot washing on Holy Thursday, when abbots imitated Christ by washing the feet of the monks.
A monumental image of the heavenly Christ Pantokrator, framed by a rainbow mandorla in the central dome, dominates the naos. Photios interprets what must have been a similar image in the Pharos church as Christ reigning from the heavens:
You might say He is overseeing the earth, and devising its orderly arrangement and government, so accurately has the painter been inspired to represent, though only in forms and in colors, the Creator’s care for us.Photios of Constantinople, Homily 10
Scenes from the lives of Christ and the Virgin—such as the Annunciation—unfold in the squinches below and throughout the rest of the naos. The eastern apse reveals another Virgin and Child, and additional saints appear throughout the naos.
For worshippers entering these churches, mosaics offered a vision of God reigning from on high, a reminder of salvation history, and face-to-face encounters with so many saints who had come before. No wonder Photios found himself whirling around, trying to take in the overwhelming mosaics at the Pharos church, and feeling as if he had “entered heaven itself.”
Cite this page as: Dr. Evan Freeman, “Mosaics and microcosm: the monasteries of Hosios Loukas, Nea Moni, and Daphni,” in Smarthistory, June 17, 2020, accessed November 2, 2023, https://smarthistory.org/mosaics-and-microcosm/.
The Eastern Roman “Byzantine” Empire is well known for its glittering, gold mosaics. But the medieval artists of Byzantium were also adept at a wall painting technique known as fresco: a less expensive medium than mosaics in which artists applied pigments to wet plaster so that the painting became chemically bonded to the wall itself. A small church located in the village of Gorno Nerezi (commonly just “Nerezi”) on the outskirts of Skopje, North Macedonia, preserves some of the finest examples of fresco from the Byzantine period.
According to a painted inscription in the church, the Middle Byzantine church of Saint Panteleimon (pronounced pan-tah-LAY-mon) was built as a monastery church in 1164 by Alexios Komnenos, a nephew of Byzantine emperor John II. Alexios may have owned land in this region. Nerezi’s five-domed architecture and high-quality frescoes reflect its imperial patronage.
Saint Panteleimon is a modest, cross-domed structure with four smaller domed chapels, making it a five-domed church (read more about cross-domed churches). Its five-domed design echoes the form of the church of the Holy Apostles in the Byzantine capital of Constantinople (destroyed following the Ottoman conquest of Constantinople in 1453)—which contained relics of the Apostles and the tombs of Byzantine emperors—reflecting Nerezi’s connections with the capital and imperial family.
Like most Byzantine churches, Saint Panteleimon is divided into three main parts, which were adorned with frescoes:
The two eastern chapels connect to the bema, enabling them to function as a prothesis and diakonikon. The two western chapels connect with the narthex and may have been used for services that took place in the narthex.
While the frescoes in the narthex have been badly damaged and the upper portions of the naos and bema were replaced with post-Byzantine paintings, the naos and bema preserve much of the original, twelfth-century frescoes on the lower levels.
A stunning, blue background unifies the original, twelfth-century frescoes, which have been executed with a range of vivid colors. The figures at Nerezi are slender and often elongated. Nerezi’s painters have made extensive use of lines to define the boundaries of shapes, model forms, and portray emotions in the individualized faces of many of Nerezi’s figures. This elongation of the figures and repetition of lines create a sense of visual rhythms and movement within the church, and were a hallmark of Byzantine painting during the Komnenian period.
The high quality of Nerezi’s frescoes and similarities with other artworks have led many scholars to conclude that the church’s painters hailed from the Byzantine capital of Constantinople, a major center of artistic patronage and production. Nerezi’s frescoes are particularly valuable since no painted church programs from Constantinople survive from this period (much of Constantinople’s church art was destroyed following the Ottoman conquest of the city in 1453).
As was common in post-Iconoclastic churches, Nerezi features full-length, nearly life-size portraits of saints at the floor level, with narrative scenes from the lives of Christ and the Virgin Mary above.
The Deposition
Christ’s followers mourn his death on the north side of the naos, a common theme of hymns and sermons during the post-Iconoclastic era.
In the Deposition, Christ’s followers remove his body from the cross. Joseph of Arimathea looks out at the viewer with a piercing gaze from the center of the scene.
The Lamentation
The narrative continues with the Threnos, or Lamentation, located next to the Deposition. The dead Christ now lies on the ground but has not yet been placed in the tomb (which appears on the left side of the image). Christ’s followers mourn his death. Lines of grief crease their faces, creating emotional expressions often absent from Byzantine art. The Virgin cradles her dead son in her lap, recalling how she carried him into the temple in the Meeting of the Lord on the opposite wall. (view annotated image)
John the Evangelist clings to Christ’s hand at the center of the scene. His hunched body creates sweeping contours that move the viewer’s eyes toward the dead Christ and his mother. Additional mourners gather at Christ’s feet and angels appear in the sky above, echoing the grief of Christ’s followers below. These human and angelic figures display a range of emotions and gestures of bereavement, which must have invited Byzantine viewers to engage emotionally with this image.
In Byzantine mosaics and panel paintings, such scenes often appeared against a solid gold background. Yet here, the artist has effectively employed fresco to create a naturalistic environment: an undulating green ground, tan hills with rhythmic curves, and a deep blue sky. This landscape also serves the larger composition; the silhouettes of the hills sink toward the center of the scene, moving the viewer’s eyes to the figures, and heightening the overall drama of the image.
This scene, its naturalistic setting, and its emphasis on emotion all anticipate developments associated with Renaissance Italy. Scholars have noted the striking similarities between Nerezi and Giotto’s fourteenth-century frescoes at the Arena Chapel in Padua, Italy, particularly in Giotto’s own rendition of this same scene: The Lamentation. Although Giotto’s figures are more naturalistic than those at Nerezi, both frescoes emphasize the mourners’ grief within a landscape that amplifies the dram
Byzantine art may be known for its golden mosaics, but the five-domed church of Saint Panteleimon at Nerezi challenges modern viewers not to forget Byzantium’s equally beautiful frescoes. With vivid colors and graceful lines, Nerezi’s frescoes depict elongated figures that exhibit a range of emotions and sometimes occupy naturalistic landscapes, anticipating the Italian Renaissance and demonstrating Byzantium’s importance in the history of art.
Why would a Biblical king surround himself with pagans? The Paris Psalter embodies a complex mixture of the classical pagan past and the medieval Christian present—all brought together to communicate a political message by the Byzantine emperor.
The Byzantine Empire, which ruled areas of the eastern Mediterranean from the fourth through fifteenth centuries, left a dazzling visual legacy that has influenced other medieval Christian and Islamic societies as well as countless artists in our own time.
The word “Psalter” in the name of this manuscript is the term we use for books and manuscripts of the Hebrew Bible’s Book of Psalms. Psalters were one of the most commonly copied works in the Middle Ages because of their central role in medieval church ceremony.
This work is unusually large and lavishly illustrated, with 14 full-page illuminations included in its 449 folios. Eight of these images depict the life of King David, who was often seen as a model of just rule for medieval kings. Because King David was traditionally considered the author of the Psalms, he is shown here in the role of musician and composer, sitting atop a boulder playing his harp in an idyllic pastoral setting.
This manuscript so carefully follows models from prior centuries that scholars once thought it was made during the reign of the Byzantine Emperor Justinian in the sixth century. Only later did research demonstrate that the Paris Psalter was actually made in the tenth century as an exquisite imitation of Roman work from the third to fifth centuries—in other words, it was part of an intentional revival of the Classical past. Classical style, as a general term, refers to the naturalistic visual representation used during periods when, for example, the Roman emperors Augustus and Hadrian ruled.
The period of classical revival that produced the Paris Psalter is sometimes called the Macedonian Renaissance, because the Macedonian dynasty of emperors ruled the Byzantine Empire at the time. This classical revival followed Byzantine Iconoclasm. The notion that this Byzantine revival of the Roman past was a Renaissance, in the sense of a full-scale revival of classical thinking and art such as in the Italian Renaissance, has been questioned. However, there is no doubt that we see in this, and other contemporary works, a conscious appropriation of elements of the classical artistic vocabulary.
Thus we have the conundrum of the Biblical David encircled by classical personifications (a figure that represents a place or attribute). In this example, the seated woman embodies the attribute of Melody. David’s seated posture with his instrument is likely based on the classical tragic figure Orpheus, usually shown similarly positioned holding his lyre. Likewise the hazy buildings in the background also belong to the Greco-Roman tradition of wall painting. The meaning of the personifications such as the woman, Melody, perched beside David, is intriguing—within the medieval Christian context she presumably has now become a symbol of culture and erudition as opposed to her earlier significance as a minor deity in the pagan classical world.
Notice how the surroundings including plants, animals, and landscape differs from the resplendent gold backgrounds used in the imperial mosaics of Justinian and Theodora at Ravenna or the icon we call the Vladimir Virgin. In contrast, David is depicted naturalistically as a youthful shepherd, rather than the grand king he was to become. The classicizing, more realistic style of the figures and the landscape coupled with the overt classical allusions made by the personifications show the pains taken to render a coherent vision uniting subject and style.
Other Byzantine art from the so-called Macedonian Renaissance, such as the ivory Veroli Casket, also show a renewed interest in classicism that called upon Late Roman artistic models. The patron of the Paris Psalter perhaps sought to liken himself this way with great emperors of the past by reviving a style that had been out of favor for hundreds of years and perhaps evoked a “golden age.” Choice of artistic style could function as a tool for conveying meaning within the sophisticated Byzantine society at the time.
The Paris Psalter was produced in Constantinople, today known as Istanbul, and takes its name from its modern location, Paris’ Bibliothèque Nationale. The Paris Psalter manuscript, like most western medieval manuscripts, was not made from paper, but from carefully prepared animal skins. Medieval manuscripts were far more rare and precious than mass-produced modern printed books. Large-scale examples, such as this, made for an aristocratic if not imperial patron, show how Biblical art of the highest craftsmanship could serve many purposes for its medieval audience and patrons.
Additional resources
URL: https://youtu.be/jpO3PiXrTZ4
The southern-Italian island of Sicily is often described as a stepping stone, a hub, or a crossroad of the Mediterranean Sea. To the North, the small island is separated from mainland Italy and its gateway to Christian Europe by only 2.5 miles. To the South, the Strait of Sicily, only 90 miles wide, joined Sicily to Ifrīqiyya (modern-day Tunisia) and to the Muslim territories of North Africa and the Maghreb. The waters of the Mediterranean Sea also connected the island to the more distant shores of the Fatimid Caliphate in Egypt, whose capital was Cairo, and to the Eastern Roman “Byzantine” Empire, whose capital was Constantinople (modern Istanbul). As a bridge across the Mediterranean, Sicily continuously attracted settlers and conquerors and encouraged trade, travel, commerce, as well as substantial artistic interaction throughout the region.
For centuries, Byzantine and then Islamic rulers governed the island of Sicily. In the eleventh century, warring southern Italian rulers, Byzantines, and Lombards alike hired Norman mercenaries from Northern France to aid them in their struggles against each other and against local Muslims. Setting out from Northern France, the Norman invaders gradually conquered the region for themselves, securing Southern Italy and Sicily by 1091. During this same period, Normans were also invading England, and as a result, the Normans were able to establish independent outposts in both Sicily and England, where they drew upon local artistic and architectural traditions in their monuments. In Southern Italy and Sicily, the Normans unified the entire region as the Kingdom of Norman Sicily—which endured from 1130 to 1194—with the city of Palermo as its capital.
The Cappella Palatina
As part of their vast project to transform Palermo into the thriving capital of their new kingdom, the Norman kings built on an unprecedented scale. They furnished the kingdom with an elaborate royal palace, the Palazzo Reale (also known as the Palazzo Normanni), and its prized chapel, the Cappella Palatina, cathedrals in nearby Cefalù and Monreale, and extensive suburban dwellings. The most famous of the Norman royal monuments, the Cappella Palatina masterfully combines diverse architectural and decorative sources, including Byzantine-style mosaics, an Islamic-style painted muqarnas ceiling, opus sectile floors, and multicolored marble and stone wall revetments. The resulting aesthetic transformed the building into a visual manifesto of the king’s Mediterranean ambitions.
Cefalù Cathedral
Like the Cappella Palatina, the Norman kings’ other churches and cathedrals similarly evoked a synthesis of Byzantine, Islamic, and Romanesque forms. Roger II’s Cefalù Cathedral, built between 1131 and 1240, intertwines the region’s diverse decorative traditions. Its overall design is reminiscent of Norman and French architecture in Northern Europe, following a Latin abbey design, and furnished its interior with mosaics executed in a Byzantine style, including images of Christ Pantokrator, the Virgin, apostles, and prophets in the apse. While the high quality of the chapel’s mosaics has led many scholars to conclude that Roger II imported Byzantine craftsmen to Sicily to decorate his churches, it is also possible that the chapel’s mosaics were executed by local artisans.
Moreover, Islamic-style painted wooden trusses and star-shaped panels surmount the nave. Their painted scenes, like those of the Cappella Palatina’s muqarnas ceiling, feature themes of courtly life drawn from an Islamic repertoire. The origins of the ceilings’ builders and painters remains a contentious issue, with scholars suggesting Sicily itself, Fatimid Egypt, North Africa, northern Syria, and northern Iraq.
Monreale
Similarly, King William II’s crowning architectural achievement can be seen at Monreale: a large complex comprising a cathedral church, monastery, and cloister, which was completed in 1174. On the church’s eastern façade, Islamic-style decoration of repeating ogival arches and geometric medallions are formed by alternating black and white stone and marble.
On its interior, the Cathedral is composed almost entirely of flat surfaces, providing ample space for mosaic decoration. In the central sanctuary, images of the Pantokrator, Virgin, and saints adorn the central apse, while side apses feature scenes from the lives of Saints Peter and Paul. The transepts and aisles contain scenes from the life of Christ as well as scenes from the Old Testament and the life of the Virgin.
A pair of mosaic panels portray William II being crowned directly by God and donating his church to the Virgin. Positioned in the sanctuary, directly above the royal throne and the bishop’s ambo, or platform, they prominently represent the king’s presence within the church and the sacred space of the sanctuary. Moreover, as William appears in royal regalia reminiscent of a Byzantine emperor, the panels conveyed his desire to emulate the wealth and prestige of the Byzantine Empire.
The majority of the surviving art and architecture from Norman Sicily was built by and for the island’s Latin-Christian Norman kings. However, some surviving works reveal glimpses of the art and identity of the island’s diverse population. The most famous of these monuments is the Santa Maria dell’Ammiraglio in Palermo, better known as the Martorana. George of Antioch, the Arab-Christian grand-vizier, or prime minister, to King Roger II, built the church as a private burial chapel for himself and his family as well as for the city’s Greek- and Arab-Christian communities. On the one hand, it closely resembles King Roger II’s Cappella Palatina in its mosaics, opus sectile floors, and marble revetments. On the other hand, the church’s Arabic epigraphy draws more heavily upon George’s own Arab-Christian identity. The church’s mosaic dome, with images of Christ Pantokrator surrounded by archangels, is encircled by a narrow band of wood, now faded, but once brightly painted with the Arabic translation of two texts from the Greek liturgy.
Similarly, an opulent white marble funerary epitaph commemorates the death of Anna, mother of Grisandus, a priest working in the Cappella Palatina. Surrounding the vibrant, multicolored opus sectile cross are four inscribed texts—Latin (left), Greek (right), Arabic (bottom), and Judeo-Arabic (Arabic written in Hebrew script; top). While few people would have been able to read the quadrilingual epitaph in its entirety, even an illiterate viewer would have understood, or could have been told, that the four scripts represented the four religious communities of the Kingdom. Moreover, its opus sectile ornament would have further reminded the viewer of the decoration of the island’s royal churches and palaces, thus visualizing the prestige of its patron and the deceased.
These buildings and works of art are expressions of a unique Norman Sicilian cultural and visual identity. Drawing upon local styles on the island, as well as more distant traditions from Byzantium, Fatimid Egypt, the Maghrib, and the Levant, the kings and courtiers of Norman Sicily fashioned and mobilized Norman Sicilian visual culture in promoting their royal ideology and articulating their religious identities.
The Medieval Kingdom of Sicily, A Visual Resource of Historical Sties c. 1100-c.1450
If you visit Venice and walk around the Church of San Marco, you might wonder why the exterior of the church appears to be a mishmash of various pieces of sculpture done in different styles from different periods. The answer lies in the Crusades, and particularly with the Fourth Crusade that began in 1202.
When the crusaders of the First Crusade arrived in the Byzantine capital of Constantinople (modern Istanbul) in 1096, the Byzantine emperor Alexios I Komnenos agreed to help them go through Asia Minor on their way to the Holy Land. But wary of their motivations, he first made them swear allegiance to him. The crusaders went on to capture Jerusalem from its Muslim rulers in 1099 and established crusader states in Palestine.
In 1203 a fourth expedition of crusaders were on their way to the Holy Land when they were again diverted to Constantinople. Alexios Angelos—the son of deposed emperor Isaac II Angelos—enlisted the help of the crusaders to restore his father to the throne. Although he and his father did manage to rule jointly with the help of the crusaders, they were soon deposed by Alexios V Doukas Mourtzouphlos. Angered because they did not receive the rewards promised by Alexios Angelos and confronted with the immense riches of what was then the grandest city known to the West, the crusaders attacked and seized Constantinople on April 13, 1204. They would occupy the city until 1261 when Michael VIII Palaiologos reclaimed the city for the Byzantines.
During the almost sixty years of occupation by the crusaders (or “Latins,” as the Byzantines often referred to western Europeans during this period), Constantinople was looted of countless artworks. Many of these impressive artworks are now in museums and churches all over Europe. Venice, which provided the ships for the Fourth Crusade, possesses much of the art that was taken by the crusaders, such as the life-size gilt bronze horses that were displayed on the exterior of the Basilica of San Marco. These horses were attributed to the famous sculptor Lysippos who worked in the fourth century B.C.E., although they may have been made later.
Another example of looted art is the porphyry statues of the Tetrarchs (four Roman emperors), now built into the side of the Basilica of San Marco in Venice. The missing foot of one of the Tetrarchs was found in Constantinople, confirming that this sculptural group was originally set up somewhere in the Byzantine capital. These statues represent a short-lived system of rule during the late Roman Empire when the emperor Diocletian was trying to stabilize political authority in a time of crisis by sharing rule among four emperors.
Numerous marble reliefs on the exterior of San Marco have been assigned a Byzantine provenance, such as the eleventh-century relief of Alexander the Great ascending in a chariot raised by griffins. This popular image of Alexander derived from the legendary Alexander Romance in which we read of Alexander’s bold attempt to explore the heavens in a chariot pulled by winged griffins.
Ornate carved piers (known as the Pilastri Acritani) taken from the Church of St. Polyeuktos in Constantinople stand near the south-west corner of San Marco. The grand Church of St. Polyeuktos was built in the 520s by the Byzantine aristocrat Anicia Juliana and its beauty and size rivaled that of the Church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople.
The Treasury of San Marco is full of rich objects that must originally have come from Constantinople. Many fine examples of Byzantine metalwork and enamels are housed in the Treasury, such as the gilt-sliver incense burner in the form of a multi-domed structure that possibly represents a garden pavilion. The incense burner is decorated with female personifications on the exterior and mythological beasts, such as griffins. Another such object is a eucharistic chalice made of a Late Antique onyx bowl set within a gilt silver frame and decorated with a series of enamels. The inscription on the chalice reads “God help Romanos, the Orthodox Emperor,” referring to either the emperor Romanos I Lekapenos (920-44) or Romanos II (959-63).
During the period of Constantinople’s occupation by the crusaders, there were three Byzantine successor states, the Despotate of Epirus founded by Michael Komnenos Doukas (with Arta as its capital), the Empire of Nicaea founded by the Laskarid Dynasty, and the Empire of Trebizond founded by Alexios Komnenos. It would be the Nicaeans who would later recapture Constantinople in 1261. In the Despotate of Epirus, the Monastery of the Panaghia of Blachernae north of Arta contains a three-aisled basilica built in the 13th c. with a wall painting of the procession of the famous icon of the Virgin housed in the Church of the Blachernae in Constantinople. The mural recreates the great city of Constantinople for the empire in exile.
Soon after the city was reconquered in 1261, a mosaic was put up in the south gallery of Hagia Sophia. Only the upper part survives today, but the figures were originally over twice life-size. Christ is represented in the center, flanked by the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist, a grouping called the Deësis. The mosaic was probably part of Michael VIII’s major campaign to restore and renew Hagia Sophia after the alterations made by the crusaders. Perhaps the mosaic was intended to celebrate the triumph of the Byzantines over the crusaders. The Deësis as a subject refers to the intercession of the Virgin and John with Christ on behalf of humankind. The mosaic may have stood as a kind of visual prayer to insure the city would never be taken again.
Additional resources
Medieval materiality across the Mediterranean, 900–1500, a Reframing Art History chapter.
High-res images of this work on the Meraviglie di Venezia (Wonders of Venice).
Video of the icon seen in candlelight.
In 1204, a momentous event forever changed the history of the Eastern Roman “Byzantine” Empire. Western Europeans embarking on the Fourth Crusade diverged from their path to Jerusalem and sacked and occupied the Byzantine capital of Constantinople (modern Istanbul). The crusaders established a “Latin Empire” in Byzantine territory and subjected Byzantine Christians to the religious authority of the Pope in Rome. The crusaders also converted Hagia Sophia—Constantinople’s great cathedral, built in the sixth century by emperor Justinian—into a Latin (Catholic) church.
In 1261, the Byzantines recaptured their capital and crowned Michael VIII Palaiologos as emperor, inaugurating what historians refer to as the Late Byzantine—or Palaiologan—period. A new Orthodox patriarch of Constantinople was enthroned in Hagia Sophia in September 1261, and Justinian’s great church was used for the Byzantine rite once again.
Under Latin occupation, the capital and many of its churches fell into disrepair, and so the Byzantines began restoring Constantinople and its churches. Emperor Michael VIII Palaiologos, responsible for reclaiming the Byzantine capital, is likely responsible for installing a monumental new mosaic of the Deësis in the south gallery of Hagia Sophia—a part of the church traditionally reserved for imperial use—not long after reclaiming Constantinople in 1261. The mosaic was probably part of a larger restoration project in the church of Hagia Sophia.
The monumental Deësis mosaic depicts Christ flanked by the Virgin Mary and John the Baptist approximately two and a half times larger than life. The looming stature of these three figures reflects their importance in Byzantine culture. Christ, the Son of God, appears at the center of the composition and is labeled, IC XC, the Greek abbreviation for “Jesus Christ.” The Byzantines viewed the Virgin Mary—Christ’s mother—as a powerful protector. She appears at Christ’s right hand and is labeled, MP ΘY, “Mother of God.” John was a prophet and relative of Christ, whose preaching and baptizing prepared the way for Christ’s ministry in the Gospels. He appears on Christ’s left with the label, “Saint John the Forerunner.”
In the mosaic, Christ sits upon a jeweled throne like an emperor or judge (although most of the throne and bottom half of the mosaic have been lost). The Virgin and John turn inward toward Christ in a three-quarter view, and would have originally extended their hands toward Christ in a pleading gesture. This type of image is referred to as a deësis (δέησις), which means “entreaty,” suggesting an act of asking, pleading, begging. However, this title does not actually appear in the mosaic, and scholars debate whether the Byzantines actually used this term much to describe such images. This type of image reflects the Byzantine belief that the hierarchical order of their empire on earth mirrored heaven above. In the Deësis, the Virgin and John appear like courtiers in the heavenly court, asking God to have mercy on humanity. It is not hard to imagine why such an image of intercession and divine mercy might appeal to the new ruler of an empire still on precarious footing on the world stage.
The subject of the Deësis is common in art in a variety of media from the Middle Byzantine period onward, often employing a similar composition to that found in Hagia Sophia. But the Deësis was also highly flexible: its figures could be rearranged, replaced by others, or expanded to include additional saints. This is the case with the mid-10th century, ivory Harbaville Triptych, in which Christ, the Virgin, and John—who appear in the top center with angels—are surrounded by a variety of saints.
Additionally, the Deësis was often incorporated into larger compositions, such as templon beams and images of the Last Judgment. Scholars have debated possible meanings of the Deësis, sometimes understanding the Virgin and John as witnesses to Christ’s divinity and at other times emphasizing their role as intercessors on behalf of humankind.
The Hagia Sophia Deësis is responsive to the lighting conditions where it is located. Within the image, light appears to shine on the figures from the left, casting shadows to the right. This pictorial light source corresponds with the actual light source of the window on the southern wall beside the mosaic. As a result, light and shadow seem to behave the same within the image and in the physical space the image inhabits, a feature that heightens the naturalism in the mosaic.
The artists who created this mosaic also considered how individual tesserae would reflect light. The gold tesserae that compose the background are arranged in a shell-like pattern and those in Christ’s halo seem to swirl. The tesserae within the cross in Christ’s halo are angled so they will reflect the light differently from the rest of the gold ground, highlighting the cross.
The Deësis at Hagia Sophia illustrates a broader tendency toward naturalism (imitation of the visible world) in Late Byzantine art. Let us compare the image of Christ in the Hagia Sophia Deësis with a Middle Byzantine mosaic of Christ at Hosios Loukas Monastery in Boeotia, Greece, which dates to the eleventh century. The two images both follow the same Byzantine conventions for depicting Christ, who holds a Gospel book in his left hand, blesses the viewer with his right hand, and wears a blue mantle and a tunic with gold highlights in both images. But in the Middle Byzantine mosaic at Hosios Loukas, Christ’s features are simplified. The artist relies heavily on lines to articulate form. As a result, Christ’s body may appear somewhat flat and even cartoon-like to our eyes.
Certain aspects of the Deësis at Hagia Sophia—such as highlights and drapery folds—are similarly linear. But other elements of the Deësis demonstrate a new tendency toward naturalism. At Hagia Sophia, Christ is more anatomically accurate. The artist has also used modeling—carefully arranging light and dark tesserae—to create a sense of three-dimensional form. And a greater modulation of hues has produced more convincing skin tones.
Neither the origins of the artist(s) who created the Deësis mosaic, nor the reasons for the mosaic’s naturalism, are easy to explain. But it should be noted that this tendency toward naturalism is part of a larger trend in Late Byzantine art, which may also be observed, for example, in the wall painting of the Dormition of the Virgin at Sopoćani Monastery in Serbia, also dated to the 1260s.
This attention to naturalism in the Late Byzantine art also corresponds with a similar interest in naturalism among some Italian artists like Duccio, Cimabue, and Giotto who are associated with the beginnings of the Italian Renaissance. Active in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries—not long after the creation of the Deësis in Hagia Sophia—their paintings reveal similar attention to human anatomy and the modeling of form.
Today, the Deësis mosaic in Hagia Sophia still stands as a reminder of the moment when the Byzantines reclaimed their capital from the Latins and when the arts—and an interest in naturalism—flourished.