Greek Art in Motion: Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman on the occasion of his 90th Birthday 9781789690231, 9781789690248

This publication on Greek Art gathers a large number of studies presented at the International Congress ‘Greek Art in Mo

1,755 73 159MB

English Pages 519 [518] Year 2019

Report DMCA / Copyright


Polecaj historie

Greek Art in Motion: Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman on the occasion of his 90th Birthday
 9781789690231, 9781789690248

Table of contents :
Title Page
Copyright Page
John Boardman and Greek Sculpture
Olga Palagia
Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic polis: an architectural approach
Milena Melfi
‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’
‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’:1 ancient terracottas in the field and the museum
Lucilla Burn
The Good, the Bad, and the Misleading. A Network of Names on (mainly) Athenian Vases.
Thomas Mannack
Studying gems: Collectors and Scholars
Claudia Wagner
Godlike Images. Priestesses in Greek Sculpture
Iphigeneia Leventi
The nude Constantinople. Masterpieces of Greek sculpture at Byzantium according to the Greek Anthology1
Ornaments or amulets: a peculiar jewel on dedicatory statues
Olympia Bobou
Greek Emporios in Chios
Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea
Temples with a Double Cella
New Thoughts on a Little-Known Type of Temple
Ugo Fusco
Terracotas and Metal
Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos: The God’s Terracottas at Cycladic Sanctuaries
Erica Angliker1
An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace: Questions of Iconography and Manufacture
Amalia Avramidou1
Forgeries in a museum: a new approach to ancient Greek pottery
Claudina Romero Mayorga1
Beyond trade: the presence of Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels in the Northern Black Sea area
Chiara Tarditi
Greek Pottery
Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece
Anthony Mangieri
Timagoras: an Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered
Christine Walter
Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum:A new interpretation
Marianne Bergeron
The Greek pottery of the Tagus estuary
Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa
Vases on Vases. An Overview of Approaches
Konstantina Tsonaka
Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded
Daniela Freitas Ferreira1
Youth in an enclosed context: new notes on the Attic pottery from the Iberian Tútugi necropolis (Granada, Galera)
Carmen Rueda1 and Ricardo Olmos2
An overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery: tradition and future perspectives
Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias1 and Camila Diogo de Souza2
Sculptures and coins. A contextual case study from Side
Alice Landskron1
The romanitas of Mark Antony’s eastern coins
João Paulo Simões Valério1
War and Numismatics in Greek Sicily: Two sides of the same coin
José Miguel Puebla Morón
Iconography of Poseidon in the Greek coin
María Rodríguez López
The Silver Akragatine Tetradrachms with quadriga: A New Catalogue1
Viviana Lo Monaco2
Gems and Glass
Why was Actaeon punished? Reading and seeing the evolution of a myth
José Malheiro Magalhães1
Greek Myth on Magical Gems: Survivals and Revivals
Paolo Vitellozzi
From routine to reconstruction
Susan Walker1
Greek History and Archaeology
The Database of the Iberia Graeca Centre
Xavier Aquilué, Paloma Cabrera and Pol Carreras
The Greeks overseas: a bioarchaeological approach
Tasos Zisis and Christina Papageorgopoulou
The Messenian island of Prote and its relation to navigation in Greece and the Mediterranean
Stamatis A. Fritzilas1
Naukratis - Yet Again
Astrid Möller
The Tomb of the Roaring Lions at Veii: Its Relation to Greek Geometric and Early Orientalizing Art
Gabriele Koiner
Perserschutt in Eretria? Pottery from a pit in the Agora
Tamara Saggini1
Greeks Overseas
A Bridge to Overseas
Chiara Maria Mauro1
Gandharan Odalisque: Mounted Nereids on Gandharan Stone Palettes
SeungJung Kim
The Attic Pottery from the Persephoneion of Locri Epizefiri between Ritual Practices and Worship
Elvia Giudice and Giada Giudice
Was Knossos a home for Phoenician traders?
Judith Muñoz Sogas1
Greek Divine Cures Overseas: Italian Realisations of the Greek Paradigm
Lidia Ożarowska1
Reception and Collecting
Wine and blood?
Nuno Resende
Pavlovsk Imperial villa and its collections: from the first stage of antiquities collecting and archaeology in Russia
Anastasia Bukina and Anna Petrakova
Art and Myth
Greek Myths Abroad
Valeria Riedemann Lorca
Karolina Sekita
Orphica non grata?
Geryon in Tatarli1
Malcolm Davies
New Identifications of Heroes and Heroines on the West Pediment of the Parthenon: The Case of P, Q, and R
Ioannis Mitsios
A new Sicilian curse corpus: blueprint for a geographical - chronological analysis of defixiones from Sicily
Thea Sommerschield1
Once again: A sacrificing goddess. Demeter - what´s up with her attribute?
Maria Christidis1 and Heinrike Dourdoumas2

Citation preview

Greek Art in Motion Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman on the occasion of his 90th birthday edited by

Rui Morais Delfim Leão Diana Rodríguez Pérez with

Daniela Ferreira

Greek Art in Motion Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

edited by

Rui Morais, Delfim Leão, Diana Rodríguez Pérez with

Daniela Ferreira

Archaeopress Archaeology

Archaeopress Publishing Ltd Summertown Pavilion 18-24 Middle Way Summertown Oxford OX2 7LG

ISBN 978 1 78969 023 1 ISBN 978 1 78969 024 8 (e-Pdf)

© Archaeopress and the individual authors 2019

Cover: Head of Alexander in profile. Tourmaline intaglio, 25 x 25 mm, Ashmolean (1892.1499) G.J. Chester Bequest. Photo: C. Wagner.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright owners.

This book is available direct from Archaeopress or from our website


Preface����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������1 John Boardman and Greek Sculpture�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������3 Olga Palagia Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������14 Milena Melfi ‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’: Ancient Terracottas in the Field and the Museum��������������������������������23 Lucilla Burn The Good, the Bad, and the Misleading: A Network of Names on (Mainly) Athenian Vases.��������������������������������������������31 Thomas Mannack Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������37 Claudia Wagner Buildings and History���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������46 P. J. Rhodes John Boardman at 90: ‘New’ Archaeology or ‘Old’? Confessions of a Crypto-Archaeologist��������������������������������������������55 Paul Cartledge Some Recent Developments in the Study of Greeks Overseas��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������59 Gocha R. Tsetskhladze

Sculpture Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������69 Iphigeneia Leventi The Nude Constantinople: Masterpieces of Greek Sculpture at Byzantium according to the Greek Anthology��������������������� 78 Carlos A. Martins de Jesus Ornaments or Amulets: A Peculiar Jewel on Dedicatory Statues���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������85 Olympia Bobou

Architecture Greek Emporios in Chios: The Archaeological Data from the Excavations of the Last Decades����������������������������������������93 Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea Temples with a Double Cella: New Thoughts on a Little-Known Type of Temple������������������������������������������������������������ 106 Ugo Fusco


Terracotas and Metal Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos: The God’s Terracottas at Cycladic Sanctuaries��������������������������������������������� 115 Erica Angliker An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace: Questions of Iconography and Manufacture��������� 127 Amalia Avramidou Forgeries in a Museum: A New Approach to Ancient Greek Pottery������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 136 Claudina Romero Mayorga Beyond Trade: The presence of Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels in the Northern Black Sea Area�������������� 139 Chiara Tarditi

Greek Pottery Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece���������������������������������������������� 153 Anthony Mangieri Timagoras: An Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 164 Christine Walter Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A New Interpretation������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 174 Marianne Bergeron The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 185 Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 194 Konstantina Tsonaka Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded������������������������������������������������������������ 204 Daniela Freitas Ferreira Youth in an Enclosed Context: New Notes on the Attic Pottery from the Iberian Tútugi Necropolis (Granada, Galera)���� 212 Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery: Tradition and Future Perspectives����������������������������������������������� 226 Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza

Coins Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 239 Alice Landskron The Romanitas of Mark Antony’s Eastern Coins���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 249 João Paulo Simões Valério War and Numismatics in Greek Sicily: Two Sides of the Same Coin�������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 259 José Miguel Puebla Morón


Iconography of Poseidon in Greek Coinage���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 264 María Rodríguez López The Silver Akragatine Tetradrachms with Quadriga: A New Catalogue��������������������������������������������������������������������������� 276 Viviana Lo Monaco

Gems and Glass Why was Actaeon Punished? Reading and Seeing the Evolution of a Myth��������������������������������������������������������������������� 287 José Malheiro Magalhães Greek Myth on Magical Gems: Survivals and Revivals����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 299 Paolo Vitellozzi From Routine to Reconstruction��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������311 Susan Walker

Greek History and Archaeology The Database of the Iberia Graeca Centre������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 325 Xavier Aquilué, Paloma Cabrera and Pol Carreras The Greeks Overseas: A Bioarchaeological Approach������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������ 335 Tasos Zisis and Christina Papageorgopoulou The Messenian Island of Prote and its Relation to Navigation in Greece and the Mediterranean���������������������������������� 343 Stamatis A. Fritzilas Naukratis - Yet Again��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������355 Astrid Möller The Tomb of the Roaring Lions at Veii: Its Relation to Greek Geometric and Early Orientalizing Art��������������������������� 358 Gabriele Koiner Perserschutt in Eretria? Pottery from a Pit in the Agora�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 366 Tamara Saggini

Greeks Overseas A Bridge to Overseas: Insight into the geomorphology, harbourworks and harbour layouts of the Archaic and Classical Greek harbours�����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������377 Chiara Maria Mauro Gandharan Odalisque: Mounted Nereids on Gandharan Stone Palettes�������������������������������������������������������������������������� 386 SeungJung Kim The Attic Pottery from the Persephoneion of Locri Epizefiri between Ritual Practices and Worship���������������������������� 396 Elvia Giudice and Giada Giudice Was Knossos a Home for Phoenician Traders?����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 408 Judith Muñoz Sogas


Greek Divine Cures Overseas: Italian Realisations of the Greek Paradigm����������������������������������������������������������������������417 Lidia Ożarowska

Reception and Collecting Wine and Blood? Dionysus, Other Gods and Heroes in a Catholic Chapel of Britiande (Lamego, Portugal)�������������������431 Nuno Resende Pavlovsk Imperial Villa and its Collections: From the First Stage of Antiquities Collecting and Archaeology in Russia���441 Anastasia Bukina and Anna Petrakova

Art and Myth Greek Myths Abroad: A Comparative, Iconographic Study of Their Funerary Uses in Ancient Italy�����������������������������455 Valeria Riedemann Lorca Orphica Non Grata? Underworld Palace Scenes on Apulian Red-Figure Pottery Revisited��������������������������������������������465 Karolina Sekita Geryon in Tatarli���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������473 Malcolm Davies New Identifications of Heroes and Heroines on the West Pediment of the Parthenon: The Case of P, Q, and R������������480 Ioannis Mitsios A New Sicilian Curse Corpus: A Blueprint for a Geographical and Chronological Analysis of Defixiones from Sicily�����489 Thea Sommerschield Once Again: A Sacrificing Goddess. Demeter - What´s up with her Attribute?����������������������������������������������������������������502 Maria Christidis and Heinrike Dourdoumas


Preface New findings, both in mainland Greece and abroad, in regions directly or indirectly linked with the Greeks, offer an excellent ground to broaden our horizons and reframe old research questions. The encounter of Greeks and indigenous populations near colonization areas had varying effects in every instance, the knowledge of which opens new paths for research and raises awareness about the material culture of the ancient world, an interest visible across the works of Sir John. The papers featured in this volume represent different approaches to a variety of problems posed by the study of Greek Art. The interdisciplinary nature of these approaches lead to fruitful and lively debate throughout.

In the current volume are collected the proceedings of ‘Greek Art in Motion,’ an international conference held in Lisbon at the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation on May 3–5, 2017, as a Festschrift for Sir John Boardman, a token of the esteem in which the scholarly world holds him. John Boardman, Emeritus Lincoln Professor of Classical Archaeology and Art at the University of Oxford, has published many seminal works, which will remain as a reference for current and future generations of scholars around the world. They address a variety of subjects and, above all, they demonstrate the longevity and beauty of Classical art, being a source of inspiration for junior and senior researchers alike and considerably increasing our knowledge of the ancient world.

It is also a pleasure to be able to add to the present volume the database of the Iberia Graeca Centre. This Centre is an organisation that has been created to develop projects on research, documentation, conservation and the dissemination of the Greek archaeological heritage of the Iberian Peninsula.

His activities as a scholar and teacher distinguish him as an outstanding interpreter of Classical art and its reception. John Boardman is that kind of rare Hellenist, even-handed and open-minded, who always demonstrated a generosity toward his students, colleagues and other renowned scholars. He has been, for almost seven decades of intensive work, such a special and consistent exemplar of fruitful production.

Debts of gratitude are owed to many people and institutions which helped us to mount such a successful conference: the Centre for Classical and Humanistic Studies, the Universities of Coimbra, Porto and Lisbon, the Iberia Graeca Centre, the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation (Lisbon), the D. Diogo de Sousa Archaeological Museum (Braga), and the Hotel da Estrela (Lisbon).

A brief explanation of the title is in order. The choice of the phrase ‘in motion’ is meant to serve as metaphor for the dynamic and fluid nature of the field of Greek art. This volume hopes to showcase this kinetic aspect through the valuable contributions that a panoply of scholars have assembled to celebrate our eminent honoree.

On behalf of all authors, we would like to acknowledge the generosity of numerous colleagues throughout the world who have been generous in providing access to documents, photographs and information, and in granting permissions which accompany some of the studies presented within.

The conference attracted a large audience over four days, including scholars, students from the Academy and other non-specialists from all over the world. In the first part of this work, some contributions from the keynote speakers feature, who, as friends and/or former students of Sir John, formulate a debate and problematisation of Greek art from both archaeological and historical standpoints.

The editors also wish to give special thanks to all the keynote speakers for their constant assistance and counsel, particularly in reading contributions to the volume and reviewing them.

Professor Emeritus Olga Palagia, University of Athens Professor Emeritus Paul Cartledge, University of Cambridge

A large part of the proofs of these proceedings were generously corrected by David Wallace-Hare, PhD candidate of Classics at the University of Toronto, to whom we would like to express our gratitude.

Professor Emeritus Peter John Rhodes, University of Durham Professor Emeritus Lucilla Burn, University of Durham Dr Thomas Mannack, University of Oxford

Finally, it is a pleasure to thank Archaeopress and especially David Davison for their support of the publication of these proceedings in honour of Sir John Boardman.

Dr Claudia Wagner, University of Oxford Dr Gocha R. Tsetskhladze, Editor of the Ancient West and East Journal Dr Milena Melfi, University of Oxford

The Editors,

In the second part, there are nearly 50 studies, divided thematically, which touch upon the salient subject areas of Sir John’s oeuvre: Sculpture, Architecture, Terracotta and Metal, Greek Pottery, Coins, Greek History and Archaeology, Greeks Overseas, Reception and Collecting, Art and Myth.

Rui Morais, Delfim Leão, and Diana Rodríguez Pérez, with Daniela Ferreira Porto, Coimbra, and Oxford, October 2018



John Boardman and Greek Sculpture Olga Palagia I am most grateful to the organizers of this conference for inviting me to participate in the celebration of my teacher’s 90th birthday. I cannot even begin to enumerate his achievements. As you well know, John Boardman has mastered a great number of fields, from early Greek art1 to Chinese bronzes.2 He is driven by curiosity, being always ready to take on new challenges and expand his horizons. Even though Greek gems3 and the diffusion of Greek art east and west4 have been his dominant interests, his contribution to the study and understanding of Greek sculpture has had an impact on the field for he has brought to it an open mind, approaching it from a different perspective and illuminating it with his expertise in other art forms.

into new fields, looking away from early Greece which he had mastered to perfection, into the art of Athens which was still considered the crowning glory of classical archaeology. We have come a long way since then but those were the days of innocence. Boardman’s theory was highly original and it was sprung upon an unsuspecting world. The lecture was published in 1977.5 The argument, however, was taken up again and refined in the proceedings of the Parthenon Congress in Basel.6 The frieze presents the modern viewer with a number of riddles. Boardman focused on two fundamental questions. Does the frieze break the rule of showing only gods and heroes on sacred buildings? Does it really depict a religious festival enacted by contemporary Athenians as so many scholars have assumed beginning with Stuart and Revett?7 And if it represents the Panathenaic procession, where are the hoplites? Why do we see so many horsemen (Figure 1) and chariots (Figure 2) instead of foot soldiers? He pointed out that ‘…there is no parallel on a Greek temple, before or after, for the depiction of contemporary mortals in such a setting, conducting a peaceful, non-heroic activity... There is no heroic implication in a procession to dedicate and sacrifice; but there is in the cavalcade.’8 He went on to suggest that the military on the frieze, not only the knights and the apobates jumping up and down their chariots but also their teenage grooms may be understood as the heroic Athenians who had fought and died in the battle of Marathon

His interest in Greek sculpture dates from the 1970s. It seems to have begun with a reconsideration of the problems posed by the interpretations of the Parthenon frieze. He has left his mark on this as on all other tasks he has undertaken. It is my special pleasure and privilege to say a few words about my teacher’s achievements in the field of Greek sculpture before we go on asking ourselves where do we go from here. John Boardman first aired his thoughts on the Parthenon frieze in a lecture given at the Institute of Classical Studies in London on November 15, 1975, when it was still housed in Gordon Square. I was a graduate student in Oxford at the time and went down to London to hear him. He was venturing

Figure 1. Parthenon, North frieze XXXVII-XXXVIII. London, British Museum. Photo: Olga Palagia. Boardman 1967; Boardman 1998. Boardman 2010. 3  See the contribution of Claudia Wagner in this volume. 4  Boardman 1994; Boardman 1999; Boardman 2015.

Boardman 1977. Boardman 1984. 7  Stuart and Revett 1787, 12. 8  Boardman 1984, 214.






Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. Parthenon, North frieze XII. London, British Museum. Photo: Olga Palagia. in August 490 just before the celebration of the Panathenaia. The Marathon dead became the recipients of cult and as such may well be depicted on the frieze imparting to it an intimation of divinity, for the festival is no longer enacted by mortals. He even counted the soldiers on the frieze, excluding the charioteers, and found that their number corresponds exactly to the number of Athenians killed at Marathon, 192. He concluded, however, that classical art historians will be suspicious of such a numerate answer and will continue to search for the truth, which can only be established by the discovery of a text. His theory cannot actually be disproved to this day. As Boardman himself succinctly put it, ‘The argument is not capable of proof. One might add that it is not capable of disproof…’9

child’s neck and on the garment open on the side which could be understood as a peplos. Boardman identified her as an arrhephoros, for which she has the right age, for they served Athena between the ages of 7 and 11, and were involved with the making of Athena’s peplos, whereas there are no records of boys connected with Athena’s sacred garments.12 In his contribution to Kanon in honour of Ernst Berger, Boardman returned to the issue, introducing the argument of anatomy in favour of the female sex of the child, and pointed out that she is probably handing the new peplos to the archon basileus in anticipation of its transport to the Acropolis.13 In response to criticism from C. Clairmont regarding the nudity of the child’s bottom, exposed by the open garment, which would be inappropriate for a girl, Boardman pointed to a fifth-century grave relief of a girl wearing a peplos and holding two doves in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, where the girl’s bottom is also visible.14 He also anticipated further criticism of the oddity of the child’s peplos opening on the left instead of the right, by pointing out that the peplos of the running figure G of the east pediment of the Parthenon, also opens on the left.

A side issue he discussed alongside the main problem of the cavalcade is the question ‘boy or girl?’ regarding the child assisting the archon basileus to handle Athena’s peplos in the centre of the east frieze (Figure 3). This child was initially recognized as a girl by Stuart and Revett10 but was afterwards perceived as a boy. Boardman reprised the suggestion put forward by his colleague in Oxford, Martin Robertson,11 that the child must be a girl rather than a boy. Robertson’s argument was based on the Venus rings on the

The debate about the figure’s sex continues unabated to this day.15 Key to the solution is, I think, still the garment. Further Boardman 1977, 41; Boardman 1984, 214. Boardman 1988. 14  Boardman 1991. 15  Neils (2001, 169-171) argues in favour of a boy. 12 

Boardman 1977, 48. 10  Stuart and Revett 1787, 12, pl. 23. 11  Robertson 1975, commentary to East V, 31-5. 9 



Olga Palagia – John Boardman and Greek Sculpture

Boardman investigated Pandora’s imagery on Attic vase-painting of the fifth century, focusing on a volute krater in Oxford (Figure 5), where Pandora rises from the ground like an earth goddess, and came to the conclusion that Pandora in the Parthenon was seen as an all-giver, a blessing rather than a bane. He argued that Hesiod’s view of Pandora did not correspond to what the Athenians made of her both in their visual arts and in cult. He pointed out that Philochoros’ remark that every time a cow is sacrificed to Athena, a sheep is offered to Pandora, shows that she was worshipped as a goddess. In poorer manuscripts of Philochoros’ text, Pandrosos is substituted for Pandora, thus obscuring the issue. As chance would have it, when Boardman was working on his Pandora theory, I independently came to a similar conclusion on the benign nature of Pandora.19 Rather than dissociate her from Hesiod, I associated her with his Catalogue of Women, where she is seen as the primeval woman and creator of mankind. We no longer attribute Catalogue of Women to Hesiod, but fifthcentury Athenians thought it was his, and it conveniently provided them with an appropriate tradition on which to build a favourable view of Pandora, Athena’s Figure 3. Parthenon, East frieze V. London, British Museum. Photo: Olga Palagia. and Hephaistos’ creation, progenitor of the Greek race and by implication a civilizing force of all Greece. Even though we only learned argument against a peplos is the length of the garment of each other’s work when we exchanged offprints, the two which stops short of the ankles and would therefore be more articles complement one another reinforcing the argument appropriate for a boy. In an article published on the occasion in favour of the benevolent nature of Pandora thus explaining of Boardman’s 80th birthday, I resumed the argument, her inclusion in the statue base of the Athena Parthenos. suggesting the possibility that the dress is not a peplos but an over-garment (diplax) with a chiton painted underneath, Boardman’s sculpture studies also comprise a marble which would indeed suggest a girl. A classical grave relief sculpture in his home ground of the Ashmolean Museum, from Thebes provides a parallel showing a girl whose garment Oxford. In ‘The amazon’s belt,’ published in 1980,20 his keen is part modelled in stone, part painted.16 eye detected an oddity in the belt worn by an amazon torso in the Ashmolean Museum (Figure 6). The statuary type is Boardman picked up again the thread of Parthenon known as the Berlin-Lansdowne Amazon named after two scholarship with an article in the Festschrift for Olga of the best preserved copies, and is usually attributed to the Alexandri.17 ‘Pandora in the Parthenon – a grace to mortals’ fifth-century master, Kresilas.21 By comparing her belt to questions the received opinion that the creation of Pandora horse reins in Attic vase-painting, Boardman proved that it is by Hephaistos and Athena on the statue base of Pheidias’ in fact a horse bit, thus establishing the Amazon’s identity as Athena Parthenos inside the Parthenon is an illustration a horse woman. of divine hostility to mortals since Pandora, according to Hesiod’s Works and Days and Theogony, was destined to wreak From 1978 to 1995 John Boardman produced three handbooks havoc on mankind. A reduced fragmentary copy of Pheidias’ on Greek sculpture. They were written in chronological order, statue base found in Pergamon (Figure 4)18 shows Pandora the first dealing with the archaic period,22 the second with as an inanimate figure in the middle, being endowed with the classical period23 and the third with the late classical gifts by the Graces, Athena, Hephaistos and the other gods. Palagia 2000, 60-62. Boardman 1980. 21  Bol 1998, 36-49; 171, 8.1 (Typus Sciarra). 22  Boardman 1978. 23  Boardman 1985.

Palagia 2008. Boardman 2001. 18  Berlin, Pergamonmuseum P24. Palagia 2000, fig. 4.5; Picón and Hemingway 2016, 132, I am grateful to Hans R. Goette for the photo Fig. 4. 16 





Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 4. Reduced copy of the statue base of Pheidias’ Athena Parthenos. From Pergamon. Berlin, Pergamonmuseum P 24. Photo: Hans R. Goette.

Figure 5. Attic red-figure volute-krater. Oxford, Ashmolean Museum 525. Photo from Boardman 2001, fig. 3. period, as well as with the sculpture of Sicily and South Italy.24 The last handbook includes a brief chapter on reception of the antique. The great merit of these concise handbooks is their comprehensive illustrations. Every significant piece of sculpture is included and commented on. They were translated into Greek, German, Italian and French. They are eminently affordable and have been indispensable to many generations of students, not least my students in the University of Athens. 24 

Boardman never lost interest in the early periods and returned to the question of the origins of Greek monumental sculpture in the chapter ‘Sources and models’ that he contributed to my collective book, Greek Sculpture: Function, Materials and Techniques in the Archaic and Classical Periods.25 His chapter particularly highlights the contribution of Crete to the birth of Greek sculpture in the seventh century (Figure 7). He reinforces his argument thanks to his familiarity with vase-painting and the minor arts. His chapter is an exemplar

Boardman 1995.



Boardman 2006.

Olga Palagia – John Boardman and Greek Sculpture

of how to approach a subject without ignoring the impact of other fields. After this, Boardman developed different interests and went on to explore the diffusion of Greek art beyond Greece, as well as resuming work on Greek gems. We will now go on to discuss recent developments in the study of Greek sculpture which carry the subject further, after Boardman, so to speak. I was asked by the organizers to share my thoughts on recent developments in the study of Greek sculpture. As I have already published an essay on new finds and developments in Greek sculpture until 2015,26 I would like to discuss further developments and publications which appeared subsequently or too late to be included in that survey. Greek sculpture is the subject not only of art history but also of archaeology and cannot be adequately explained without the aid of excavation data (if they exist) and/or historical circumstances. One of the main issues facing a sculpture expert in the light of recent discoveries is context.27 Setting aside such sculptures as were found reused in later contexts, there is still a proportion that has come down to us in association either with the fabric of buildings or statue bases or inscriptions or that can be illuminated by means of technical data. Our understanding of Greek sculpture can be enhanced by interdisciplinary collaboration. The source of marble in the case of marble sculptures, for example, and in the case of bronze statues, the contents of their interior like clay core or sherds found therein may have a direct impact on our final assessment of a sculpture’s date or historical significance.

Figure 6. Detail of a copy of the Berlin-Landsdowne Amazon. Oxford, Ashmolean Museum. Photo: Olga Palagia.

The contents of a hollow-cast bronze statue may have a direct impact on either its date or its provenance. Let me cite three case studies. The statue of Apollo found off the coast of Piombino in Italy,28 formed part of the magnificent exhibition of Hellenistic bronzes, Power and Pathos, organized by the Getty Museum in 2015.29 The god holds out his hands, with a phiale once in the right and a Palagia 2015. This issue is also dealt with, from the perspective of excavation data, by Dillon 2017. 28  Paris, Louvre Br 2. 29  Daehner and Lapatin 2015, 288291 (S. Descamps-Lequime). 26  27 

Figure 7. Limestone relief of three goddesses. From Gortyn. Heraklion Museum 379. Photo: Olga Palagia.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

bow in the left. A dedication to Athena is incised on the left foot. Even though he adopts the stance of an archaic kouros and has a retrospective looking coiffure, his general style can be described as eclectic. This has not stopped scholars from declaring it a genuine archaic antiquity until its date was finally established by the discovery of the signatures of two sculptors written on a lead tablet extracted through the figure’s eye sockets. The fragments of the lead tablet were lost for over a century but resurfaced in time to be placed on show at the Getty. The letter-forms and particularly the lunate sigma point to a late Hellenistic date. The remnants of the name of Menodotos, a sculptor active on Rhodes in the late second century B.C., and indeed the beginning of the word ‘Rhodian’ give away the origin of at least one of the sculptors. The fact that they signed their work on a tablet hidden inside the statue, a unique occurrence so far, may suggest that we have a deliberate ancient forgery. Clues to dating ancient bronzes may also be found in sherds clinging to their clay core. A case in point is the well-known Apollo of Piraeus (Figure 8).30 It came to light in 1959, forming part of a cache of bronze and marble statues in a small room of a building of uncertain purpose. Their destruction and abandonment is attributed to Sulla’s sack of Piraeus in 86 B.C. The rescue excavation was never completed and never published, and the find as a whole still awaits proper publication. Like the Piombino Apollo, the Piraeus Apollo also holds out his hands, with a phiale in the right and a bow in the left. He has the general appearance of an archaic kouros but projects the right foot instead of the left. He was hailed upon discovery as the earliest surviving hollow-cast bronze statue and dated to the last quarter of the sixth century. But the stylistic discrepancies of the figure quickly prompted the suggestion that it is, in fact, archaistic. The first scholar to propose this was George Dontas,31 who was aware of the sherds found clinging to the clay core of the head and neck of the statue. They appear to be Attic, some being black-glazed, others coarse wares. Their possible date ranges from the sixth to the fourth centuries B.C. Dontas only mentioned the sherds in a footnote and did not illustrate them. He went on to place the statue in the second quarter of the fifth century, a period when no other archaistic statues are known. The verdict of the sherds was soon forgotten, however, as the sherds themselves were inaccessible, and the Apollo became better known as an archaistic work of the late Hellenistic period. Not so long ago, I obtained permission to re-examine the sherds with the help of a specialist, Susan Rotroff, and to publish them.32 They compel us to date the Apollo either to the archaic or the classical period, and I have personally opted for a date towards the end of the fourth century, when we have the earliest monumental statues in the archaistic style but the options are open. We have, at any rate, to accept Attic manufacture for the statue and rule out a Corinthian provenance as was recently suggested by a scholar who was not aware of the testimony of the sherds.33

Figure 8. Apollo of Piraeus. Piraeus Museum 4645. Photo: Hans R. Goette. The third case concerns the clay cores of the Riace bronzes34 and what they can tell us about their workshop. In 2016 Vinzenz Brinkmann organized in Frankfurt an exhibition called ‘Athen. Triumph der Bilder.’35 The pièces de resistance were the new colourful reconstructions of the Riace bronzes with dark hair and shiny helmets and shields. The bronzes

Piraeus Museum 4645. Palagia 2016. I am grateful to Hans R. Goette for the photo Fig. 8. 31  Dontas 1986. 32  Palagia 2016, figs. 7-9. 33  Piteros 2011. 30 

Reggio Calabria, National Archaeological Museum 12801 (Riace A) and 12802 (Riace B). 35  Brinkmann 2016. 34 


Olga Palagia – John Boardman and Greek Sculpture

Figure 9. Reconstruction of the Riace Bronzes by V. Brinkmann. Frankfurt, Liebieghaus. Photo: Hans R. Goette. were identified with a group of Erechtheus fighting a duel with the Thracian Eumolpos, which was seen by Pausanias (1.27.45) near the Erechtheion on the Athenian Acropolis: ‘near the temple of Athena …are two large bronze statues (agalmata) of men facing each other in single combat. They call them Erechtheus and Eumolpus…on the same pedestal are portraits (andriantes) of Theainetos who served Tolmides as his seer and indeed of Tolmides himself…’36 In another passage, Pausanias (9.30.1) seems to attribute this group to Myron. His style is rather different from that of the Riace bronzes but this question is never addressed.37 Riace A is reconstructed 36  37 

as Erechtheus and given a Corinthian helmet, while Riace B is shown as the Thracian Eumolpos and given a fox skin cap, an axe and an amazon’s shield. The reconstruction of the two figures on the base is awkward, for B is shown in profile even though both statues were obviously designed for a full frontal view (Figure 9).38 It is also surprising that only the two bronzes are shown here despite the fact that Pausanias explicitly says that the group comprised two more figures, the Athenian general Tolmides and his seer, Theainetos. No explanation of their absence is offered. There is, in fact, no consensus as to the group’s date and some scholars believe that Pausanias merged two separate groups but Brinkmann

Brinkmann and Koch-Brinkmann 2016. On Myron, see Vollkommer 2001-2004, s.v.Myron (I).



Brinkmann 2016, 163, no. 35.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

and Koch-Brinkmann did not engage in the debate.39 Moreover, their new reconstruction did not take into account three statue bases from the Acropolis, attributed to this group by Manolis Korres (Figure 10).40 The bases carried over-life-size bronze statues, obviously belonged to a single monument and had been reused in the Roman repair of the west door of the Parthenon. Their workmanship and dowel-cuttings suggest a fifth-century date. Two of the bases carried cuttings for striding figures while the third supported a quietly standing figure turning towards its proper left, indicating that there was another figure on a fourth base. Even if we assume that the statue bases were tacitly rejected by Koch and Brinkmann-Koch,41 we expected to have seen some arguments against them. In addition, the authorship of Myron mentioned above indicates that the group was an Attic work. But recent analysis of clay samples from the core of the Riace bronzes in the University of Modena has shown that Athens is excluded as a possible source, while the Argolid is considered a more likely candidate.42 The reconstruction of the Riace bronzes as Erechtheus and Eumolpos on the Acropolis will fail to convince until the questions of the clay core provenance, the group composition of Tolmides, his seer and the two heroes, as well as the stylistic discrepancies between Myron’s works and the Riace bronzes are addressed. Temporary exhibitions of Greek sculpture offer a unique opportunity to display side by side multiple copies or versions of a famous prototype scattered in different countries or even continents, as well as to Figure 10. Three statue bases from the Athenian Acropolis. Photo from Korres 1994, 87. focus on the products of a single workshop. The exhibition of Hellenistic bronzes Power and Pathos organized by the Getty Museum in 201543 managed and feet and the arrangement of hair locks, demonstrating to assemble two full scale bronze copies of a fourth-century that copyists did not always follow their prototypes very Apoxyomenos, one from Ephesos and the comparatively closely. recent one from Croatia, a marble full scale copy from Florence, as well as a bronze copy of the head in Fort Worth.44 The detection of paint on ancient sculptures has been the It was thus possible to study variations in the poise of the head object of intensive study in the past decade, as colour not only modifies the appearance but can also alter the meaning of sculptures. The exhibition Transformation: Classical Sculpture 39  The group was probably dedicated by the Athenians after Tolmides in Colour, organized by the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in 2014,45 was killed in the battle of Koroneia in 447: Ioakimidou 99-100 and summarized the latest discoveries in the field and included 267-269; Keesling 2017, 265-266 n. 30. It was dedicated in Tolmides’ a number of Brinkmann’s experimental plaster casts painted lifetime: Krumeich 1997, 109-111. It may have been retrospective, set with vivid colours, which have generated a lot of discussion. up towards the end of the fifth century: Tiverios 2016, 147. Krumeich The Peplos Kore from the Athenian Acropolis, in particular,46 (1997, 109-111) considers the Erechtheus group independent from that of Tolmides. provides a fine case study in the reconstruction of garments 40  Korres 1994, 86-87. on the basis of the vestiges of colour. A compelling argument 41  Rejected by Krumeich 1997, 110-111 but accepted by Tiverios 2016. is made against the traditional interpretation of her drapery 42  Jones et al. 2016. as a peplos worn over a chiton, for she is seen as wearing an 43  Daehner and Lapatin 2015. 44  ependytis over her chiton instead. Brinkmann’s reconstruction, Ephesos: Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum VI 3168, Daehner and Lapatin 2015, 272-273, no. 40. Croatia: Zagreb, Ministry of Culture of Croatia, Daehner and Lapatin 2015, 274-275, no. 41. Florence, Galleria degli Uffizi 100, Daehner and Lapatin 2015, 278-279, no. 43. Fort Worth, Kimbell Art Museum AP 2000.03a, Daehner and Lapatin 2015, 276-277, no. 42.

Østergaard and Nielsen 2014. Acropolis Museum 679. Koch-Brinkmann et al. 2014, 126-129, 136137. 45  46 


Olga Palagia – John Boardman and Greek Sculpture

Figure 11. Copy of Dying Gaul. From Rome. Naples, National Archaeological Museum 6013. Photo: Olga Palagia. however, presents two superimposed garments of the same colour, whereas the new reconstruction offered by the Acropolis Museum,47 not included in the exhibition, shows a sharp tonal contrast between overgarment and undergarment.

Acropolis, south of the Parthenon, by Attalos I around 200 B.C., showed bronze battle groups, of gods against giants, Greeks against amazons, Athenians against Persians at Marathon, and Pergamenes against Gauls. The statues were under life-size, hence the name Lesser Attalid Dedication. We have copies of the defeated opponents only. What we did not see in New York, were samples of the original bases (Figure 12) of this dedication surviving on the Acropolis. They were identified by Manolis Korres several years ago,52 proving that not only the defeated enemy but also the victors were represented, sometimes on horseback, for the horses have left their imprints on top of the bases. The juxtaposition of the copies of the Lesser Attalid Dedication with their original bases would have truly enhanced our appreciation of this lost monument.

The diffusion of the sculptural style of Pergamon was beautifully illustrated in the exhibition Pergamon and the Hellenistic Kingdoms of the Ancient World organized by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York in 2016.48 It was particularly instructive to assemble alongside the original Pergamene sculptures from Berlin, Roman copies of Pergamene works in Italy. It was possible to see in New York two busts of Pergamene rulers, Eumenes II and Philetairos from the Villa of the Papyri at Herculaneum,49 and copies of the so-called Lesser Attalid Dedication on the Athenian Acropolis now in the Naples Museum (Figure 11)50 and in the Vatican.51 This monument, dedicated on the Athenian

This brings us back to the question of context in understanding Greek sculpture. Now that it is no longer considered the pinnacle of classical archaeology, sculpture has found its proper place as part of archaeology rather than art history, to be understood in tandem with epigraphy, architecture, pottery and science, which provide additional data for the decipherment of riddles.

Pandermalis 2012, 28-29 and book jacket illustrations. Picón and Hemingway 2016. 49  Eumenes II, Naples, National Archaeological Museum 5588. Philetairos, Naples, National Archaeological Museum 6148. Picón and Hemingway 2016, 120, no 24a and 124, no. 25. 50  Naples, National Archaeological Museum 6012, 6013, 6015, from Rome. Picón and Hemingway 2016, 179-181, nos. 100a-c. 51  Vatican Museums 2794. Picón and Hemingway 2016, 178-179, no. 99. 47  48 



Stewart and Korres 2004, 242-285.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 12. Two statue bases from the Lesser Attalid Dedication on the Athenian Acropolis. Photo from Stewart and Korres 2004, fig. 215. Bibliography

Archaic and Classical Periods: 1-31. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Boardman, J. 2010. The Relief Plaques of Eastern Eurasia and China (The ‘Ordos Bronzes’, Peter the Great’s Treasure and their Kin). Beazley Archive Occasional Paper. Oxford: Archaeopress. Boardman, J. 2015. The Greeks in Asia. London: Thames and Hudson. Bol, R. 1998. Amazones volneratae. Mainz: von Zabern. Brinkmann, V. and U. Koch-Brinkmann 2016. Das Rätsel der Riace-Krieger – Erechtheus und Eumolpos. In Brinkmann 2016: 114-125. Brinkmann, V. ed. 2016. Athen. Triumph der Bilder. Frankfurt: Michael Imhof. Daehner, J. M. and K. Lapatin eds. 2015. Power and Pathos. Bronze Sculpture of the Hellenistic World. Los Angeles: Getty Publications. Dillon, S. 2017. Approaches to the study of Greek sculpture. In A. Lichtenberger and R. Raja (eds.), The Diversity of Classical Archaeology: 223-234. Turnhout: Brepols. Dontas, G. 1986. Ο χάλκινος Απόλλων του Πειραιά. In H. Kyrieleis (ed.), Archaische und klassische griechische Plastik I: 181-192. Mainz: von Zabern. Jones, R. D. Brunelli, V. Cannavò, S. T. Levi, M. Vidale 2016. The Riace bronzes: recent work on the clay core. In E. PhotosJones et al. (eds.), Proceedings of the 6th Symposium of the Hellenic Society for Archaeometry: 21-27. Oxford: British Archaeological Reports. Herman, G. 1989. Nikias, Epimenides and the question of omissions in Thucydides. CQ 39: 83-93. Ioakimidou, C. 1997. Die Statuenreihen griechischer Poleis und Bünde aus spätarchaischer und klassischer Zeit. Munich: tuduv-Verlagsgesellschaft.

Boardman, J. 1967. Pre-Classical. From Crete to Archaic Greece. Harmondsworth: Penguin. Boardman, J. 1977. The Parthenon frieze – another view. In U. Höckmann and A. Krug (eds.), Festschrift für Frank Brommer: 39-49. Mainz: von Zabern. Boardman, J. 1978. Greek Sculpture: The Archaic Period. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1980. The amazon’s belt.’ AJA 84: 181-182. Boardman, J. 1984. The Parthenon frieze. In E. Berger (ed.), Parthenon-Kongress Basel: 210-215. Mainz: von Zabern. Boardman, J. 1985. Greek Sculpture: The Classical Period. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1988. Notes on the Parthenon frieze. In M. Schmidt (ed.), Kanon. Festschrift für Ernst Berger: 9-14. AntK Beih. 15. Boardman, J. 1991. The naked truth. OJA 10: 119-121. Boardman, J. 1994. The Diffusion of Classical Art in Antiquity. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1995. Greek Sculpture: The Late Classical Period. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1998. Early Greek Vase Painting. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1999. The Greeks Overseas. Their Early Colonies and Trade.4 (1st edition: 1964). London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 2001. Pandora in the Parthenon: a grace to mortals.’ In A. Alexandri and I. Leventi (eds.), Καλλίστευμα. Μελέτες προς τιμήν της Όλγας Τζάχου-Αλεξανδρή: 233244. Athens: ICOM. Boardman, J. 2006. Sources and Models. In O. Palagia (ed.), Greek Sculpture: Function, Materials and Techniques in the


Olga Palagia – John Boardman and Greek Sculpture

Keesling, C. M. 2017. Early Greek Portraiture. Monuments and Histories. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Koch-Brinkmann, U., H. Piening, V. Brinkmann 2014. Girls and goddesses. On the costumes of archaic female statues. In Østergaard and Nielsen 2014, 116-139. Korres, M. 1994. Study for the Restoration of the Parthenon 4. Athens: Ministry of Culture. Krumeich, R. 1997. Bildnisse griechischer Herrscher und Staatsmänner im 5. Jahrhudert v. Chr. Munich: Biering and Brinkmann. Neils, J. 2001. The Parthenon Frieze. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Østergaard, J. S. and A.M.Nielsen eds. 2014. Transformations. Classical Sculpture in Colour. Copenhagen: Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek. Palagia, O. 2000. Meaning and narrative techniques in statuebases of the Pheidian circle. In N. K. Rutter and B. A. Sparkes (eds.), Word and Image in Ancient Greece: 53-78. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press. Palagia, O. 2008. The Parthenon frieze: boy or girl? AntK 51: 3-7. Palagia, O. 2015. Greek sculpture, Archaic, Classical and Hellenistic: new finds and developments 2005-2015. Archaeological Reports 61: 104-114.

Palagia, O. 2016. Towards a publication of the Piraeus bronzes: the Apollo. In A. Giumlia-Mair and C.C. Mattusch (eds.), Proceedings of the XVIIth International Congress on Ancient Bronzes, Izmir: 237-244. Autun: Éditions Mergoil. Pandermalis, D. 2012. Archaic Colors. Athens: Acropolis Museum. Picón, C. A. and S. Hemingway 2016. Pergamon and the Hellenistic Kingdoms of the Ancient World. New Haven and London: Yale University Press. Piteros, C. 2011. Ο Απόλλων του Πειραιά και το ιερό στο Δήλεσι. In P. Valavanis (ed.), Ταξιδεύοντας στην κλασική Ελλάδα.Τόμος προς τιμήν του καθηγητή Πέτρου Θέμελη: 233-253. Athens. Robertson, M. 1975. The Parthenon Frieze. London: Phaidon. Stewart, A. and M. Korres 2004. Attalos, Athens, and the Akropolis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Stuart, J. and N. Revett 1787. The Antiquities of Athens. London: John Nichols. Tiverios, M. 2016. Μονομαχία Ερεχθέως και Ευμόλπου. Ένα βάθρο αναθήματος στην Ακρόπολη και η υδρία της Πέλλας. In C. Zambas et al (eds.) ΑΡΧΙΤΈΚΤΩΝ. Honorary Volume for Professor Manolis Korres: 143-152. Athens: Melissa.


Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach Milena Melfi In 1995 I was a student of Classics at the University of Pisa, just starting the study of Greek Art and Archaeology. When reading for a course on the religious festivals of the Athenians, I got in contact for the first time with the work of John Boardman through a series of essays, contained or discussed in a volume that I still treasure, L’esperimento della perfezione.1 These were the famous studies on Herakles, Theseus and the Amazons and on the Parthenon frieze published earlier in different editions and later translated into Italian.2 They represented for me a real milestone reading and undoubtedly helped me find my way through archaeology. Firstly, because of their methodology: the careful, sophisticated use of all types of evidence (images, buildings, texts) aimed at reconstructing a cultural context; and the empiricism and positivism of the argument, that proceeded from a complete command of the available evidence, always in line with the empirical roots of our discipline. Secondly, because of the intensely poliscentred image they offered of temples, treasuries, sanctuaries and sacred places in general. John Boardman’s works of the 70s and 80s on the iconography and architectural narratives of the Athenian state demonstrated how sanctuaries and temples in Athens were deeply connected to the life and deeds of the local community; how civic community, contemporary history and religious rituals found their highest expression in sacred architecture and in the sculptural narrative that accompanied it.

These were the earliest works that used nearly exclusively archaeology and art to demonstrate the tight connection between religion and community in the Classical period, and that sanctuaries were actually the heightened mirror of the polis and its history. It was only later in the 80s and in the 90s that the theoretical aspects of the connection between polis and sanctuaries were explored, mostly in the field of ancient history, and applied to contexts other than Athens. The elaboration of the model by Francois De Polignac in his famous 1984 book, La naissance de la cité grecque, introduced the notion that sanctuaries had to be considered as born with the polis and from their very beginning physically woven into the fabric of the settlement they belonged to. Their placing in the landscape marked the territorial boundaries of the Archaic –and later Classical—polis and often matched the actual social divisions of the citizen body, ultimately reflecting mechanisms of civic participation.3 A parallel argument developed by Christiane Sourvinou-Inwood in the field of Greek religious studies in the early 90s enforced the embeddedness of religion in the life of the polis (the model of ‘polis religion’) and extended the influence of the community of citizens well beyond the architectural and topographical aspects stressed by De Polignac. According to this model— heavily based on evidence from Classical Athens—the polis as an institution regulated, organised, and controlled most religious activities. Such control was maintained through the organisation of cults and festivals, the appointment of religious officers and the centrally regulated participation in regional and Panhellenic religious networks.4 The conclusions drawn by these historians and many others after were ultimately the same that had been offered years before and in a more empirical way by John Boardman in his studies on Athenian art and culture, where the people, cults and institutions of the prime polis of Greece were made to live in the images adorning and furnishing temples and rituals.

The 1977 essay on the interpretation of the Parthenon frieze in relation to the Athenian Marathon-fighters is exemplary in this respect, not only for connecting the architectural narrative with the history of contemporary Athens, but also for ingraining it in the topography of the city, by stressing, for example, the presence of small outcrops of rock in the frieze. This, together with other elements, is taken as a possible indication of the location of the procession in the dromos connecting the Athenian agora and acropolis, a perfect setting for the idealized cavalcade. The obvious conclusion being that not only the procession represented in the frieze was Athenian, but it also took place in Athens. Similarly in the 1982 essay on Herakles, Theseus and the Amazons, the images chosen for the decoration of both religious monuments and high quality red-figure vases are viewed as representative of the values and history of the 5th century Athenian community both at home and abroad. Here John Boardman, through images on vases, wall-paintings and relief sculpture, skilfully reconstructs a continuous history of Athenian identity—or of how the Athenians wanted to be perceived in the wider contemporary world—that ultimately finds its visual culmination in crucial cultic locations such as the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi and the Athenian Acropolis.

In recent years the debate on the connection between the polis and its cultic buildings, so clearly illustrated by examples such as Boardman’s study of the Parthenon frieze, has taken many different and often controversial forms, especially when leaving the familiar and well investigated field of Classical Athens.5 The paradigmatic relation between civic communities and religion has been put into question when tested against periods and regions that are said to escape traditional developments, such as the Hellenistic period—often understood as characterised by the growing importance of individual beliefs and by the decline the traditional values of the polis, when communities appear to be organised in alternative ways such as in tribes, leagues or federations.6 On the other hand, such criticisms need to De Polignac 1984. English translation: De Polignac 1995. Sourvinou-Inwood 1990 and 2000. For a discussion of this issue see Melfi 2016. 6  A summary on personal orientation of Hellenistic religion following the ‘decline of the polis’ in Deshours 2011: 23-24. Most recently on the need of taking into account ‘personal issues of belief and alternative 3  4  5 

1  2 

La Rocca 1988. Boardman 1977 and 1982.


Milena Melfi – Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach

be weighed today against a recent reappraisal of the vitality of the polis institutions well beyond the fourth century BC. Plenty of recent works privilege, in fact, the perspective that the Greek polis continued to exist as a self-governing entity far into the Hellenistic and Roman periods, and have prompted a revision of the communis opinio on Hellenistic religion as pre-eminently characterised by the growing importance of individual beliefs and by the loosening of the ties between citizens and institutions.7 Such studies have confirmed the validity of a civic perspective in the study of Hellenistic religion by showing that many poleis were the main religious agents in the life of Greek sanctuaries well into the first century AD. Poleis endorsed the promotion/adoption/ introduction of certain cults, approved the construction of religious buildings, commissioned the making of cult statues, and prescribed the assignment of priesthoods.8

the view of Petros Themelis, that I today share together with most scholars, the construction of the complex is indissolubly linked to the life and work of Damophon and his family, that is to say the buildings were conceived from the very beginning as a monumental backdrop for his statues. The complex is certainly Hellenistic and must have been constructed within the first half of the 2nd century BC, judging from the analysis of the buildings and the data from excavations, although its precise dating remains as controversial as that of the activity of the Messenian sculptor and his workshop.11 Whether the ideological background of this extraordinary project is to be found in the assertion of a new Messenian identity within or outside of the Achaean League, depending on the precise decade of its construction and/or on the allegiance of Damophon to the Achaean cause, it is evident that its spaces, buildings and statues conjure-up a majestic picture of the history of the city state. This focuses on a new divine figure, that of Asklepios, an Achaean god, not traditionally linked with Messene, if not by virtue of his sons worshipped in the region as heroes.12 Asklepios and his sons, in Hellenistic Messene, are made Messenian, and inserted in the genealogy of the mythical kings of Messenia through a Messenian-born mother, Arsinoe, probably following a version of the myth created at the time of the foundation of the Messenian state in the 4th century BC.13 According to Pausanias, in fact, the Messenians ‘say that the sons of Asklepios who went to Troy were Messenians, Asklepios being the son of Arsinoe, daughter of Leukippos, not the son of (Epidaurian) Koronis’.14

Therefore, as an archaeologist whose main research focus lies in post-classical sanctuaries, I would like to explore in this paper whether in the Hellenistic period the architecture and architectural narratives found in temples and cultic buildings confirm the uninterrupted relation between the polis and its cult places as recently highlighted by the historians, mostly on the basis of documentary sources. One of the best case-studies is the sanctuary of Asklepios at Messene, in the Peloponnese (Figure 1). The Asklepieion, with its complex statuary groups, is in fact a grandiose reconstruction of the history and rituals of the local community, through architecture and sculptural narratives. This extraordinary complex, excavated first by Anastasios Orlandos, and up to the present days by Petros Themelis, consists of a large sacred precinct, surrounded by a double portico in the Corinthian order, with several rooms for cult and public functions at the back of its east, west and north wings, and a large peripteral doric temple in the centre.9 According to Pausanias, the site was famous in antiquity because it hosted several statues of gods and heroes made by the famous sculptor Damophon of Messene.10 The archaeological discoveries of the last 20 years confirmed the attribution of a number of statue bases to Damophon and his family, while the unusual shape of the western and part of the northern wing of the complex, consisting of a number of shrines with wide openings and low walls, in some cases incorporating statue bases, suggested that these buildings were purposefully made to accommodate sculptures and sculptural groups. In

The architecture of the Asklepieion reflects the central position given to Asklepios in Messenian history. The sanctuary of Asklepios is approached, from the agora, in the North, passing by the fountain Arsinoe, dedicated to the Messenian mother of Asklepios, and the Doric temple of Messene, mythical founder of the city. Here, according to Pausanias, the very myth of the Messenian descent of Asklepios was visually explained on the back wall by ‘paintings of the kings of Messene (…) There is Leucippus brother of Aphareus, Hilaeira and Phoebe, and with them Arsinoe. Asclepius too is represented, being according to the Messenian account a son of Arsinoe, also Machaon and Podaleirius, as they also took part in the affair at Troy’.15 The Doric temple and altar of Asklepios appear absolutely central within the sacred complex because of their precisely axial and frontal position, in line with the main propylon and the surrounding stoai.16 The austere Doric order of temple and altar, perfectly suited for the worship of a god defined as Achaean from the Homeric epic onwards, was

worshipping communities’: Kindt 2009: 23-25 and Kindt 2012: 27-30. 7  On the vitality of the Hellenistic poleis: Will 1979; Gauthier 1985; Ma 2008. On the long life of the polis as a self-governing institution, see the recent work of by the scholars of the Copenhagen polis centre: Hansen and Nielsen 2004: 16-22; Hansen 2006: 48-50. 8  For example, Nadine Deshours, starting from a well-defined body of epigraphic evidence, proposes a complete rejection of the idea of decline of civic religion in the late Hellenistic period, in favour of a general reprisal of traditional cult places and rituals. Numerous inscriptions show that throughout the Hellenistic period, and in particular between the years 167 and 31 BC, ‘l’été indien de la religion civique’, reconstructions and restorations of buildings and religious practices were promoted by civic bodies in order to keep alive the most traditional rituals, and ultimately the religious identity of the polis (Deshours 2011). 9  For the history of excavations see the most recent summary in Ito 2013, pp. 1-2 and nos. 4-5. Most excavations reports were published by both excavators in the Praktika tes en Athenais Archaiologikes Etereias. 10  Pausanias 4.31.10.

Themelis dates it around 190 BC and Luraghi 2008 to 170-160 BC, both on the basis of historical sources; Sioumpara 2011, Müth 2007 and Ito et al. 2013 prefer the first half of the 2nd century BC, after the architectural study of the main buildings and the associated stratigraphical finds. 12  Machaon was buried in Gerenia, where his cult was established (Paus. III, 26,9); Machaon, Gorgasos and Nikomachos were worshipped in Pharai (Paus. 4. 3.10). 13  Torelli 1998, p. 475; Melfi 2007, 247. Such date is also supported by the chronology of the establishment of a healing cult (possibly in honour of Asklepios) in the area later occupied by the Hellenistic complex (Themelis 2000: 22-24). 14  Paus. 4.3.2 15  Paus. 4.31.11-12 16  On the temple, most recently: Sioumpara 2011. 11 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 1. Messene: the sanctuary of Asklepios © The Archaeological Society, Athens visually connected with the surrounding monumental stoai in the Corinthian order through the use of the identical ornamented sima with acanthus and lion-head spouts. It is clear today that temple, altar, stoai and all attached buildings were constructed at the same time on the same artificial purposely-built platform and responded to one another in the proportions and in the adoption of identical building techniques and architectural ornamentation.17 This confirms that temple, characterised by an extraordinary ‘all-side axial symmetry’, and altar were from the very beginning planned as the centrepieces of the complex.18 It is possible that the frieze of the stoai, consisting in alternating bukranioi and garlands, clearly referring to a ritual/sacrificial function,

complemented the architectural symmetry in focusing the viewer’s attention on the temple/altar complex. According to Pausanias’ description: ‘The most numerous statues and the most worth seeing are to be found in the sanctuary of Asclepius. For besides statues of the god and his sons, and besides statues of Apollo, the Muses and Heracles, the city of Thebes is represented and Epaminondas the son of Cleommis, Fortune, and Artemis Bringer of Light. The stone statues are the work of Damophon’.19 Various interpretations have been offered by different scholars on the arrangement of the statues and statue groups seen by Pausanias in the sanctuary, but none of them can be proved .20 It is almost certain that the statues of Asklepios and his sons were displayed inside the temple of the god, although the precise

Ito et al. 2013: 93-96. Sioumpara 2011: 216-218; Ito et al. 2013: 73-85. ‘All-side axial symmetry’:where the cella is absolutely symmetrical within the peristasis, pronaos and opistodomos have exactly the same depth, and the front and back façades of the cella are identical (Sioumpara 2015: 218 and 2011: 245-253). 17  18 

Pausanias 4.31.10 For a recent summary with updated bibliography see Ito et al. 2013: 4-8. 19  20 


Milena Melfi – Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach

placement of the sculptural fragments so far identified has not yet been convincingly reconstructed.21 What is evident is nevertheless the emphasis given, in the very centre of the sanctuary, to Asklepios and his male descendants, Machaon and Podaleirios, rather than the most commonly represented daughter Hygieia. These were both known as warriors and physicians among the Achaeans in the Trojan wars, and the appropriation of their Homeric past by the Messenians would no doubt have further secured their reputation.22

agalma of Artemis Phosphoros, Bringer of Light, mentioned by Pausanias must have been placed on the large central base, built against the back wall of the room, enclosed by two rows of Ionic columns, and clearly visible from the shallow entrance.29 Fragments of a colossal female head and a hand holding a torch found in the excavations were attributed to the statue.30 This was the visual arriving point of a complex ritual, that took place in the outdoor space in front of the shrine, right next to the cult of Asklepios. The altar for Artemis is, in fact, located in the courtyard of the Asklepieion on the axis of the cult statue of the goddess and is flanked right and left by donaries and dedications. Among these were the statues and statue bases of priestesses and initiated of the cult of Artemis—most of which were later arranged in two semicircles inside the shrine—belonging to the most notable Messenian families of the 2nd cent. BC to 3rd cent. AD. The dedications and the statues visualised an ancient ritual where Messenian girls participated in a night procession carrying torches, and paraded the old xoanon of the goddess, with reference to Archaic Sparta.31 The inscriptions on the statue bases suggest a link between cult and civic participation, where local families where clearly required to contribute to the celebration of the cult by providing either priestesses or young female initiates and were in turn honoured by the civic community with statues and dedications.32

Most of the statues mentioned by Pausanias must have been placed in the widely opened, proportionally consistent and low walled six oikoi surrounding the complex to the west. Whatever the exact position of the statues was, the similarities in size, rhythm and decoration of the six oikoi, together with their symmetry and visual accessibility from the courtyard, suggests a sort of museum display.23 Here, in an exceptional fusion of sculpture and architecture, Asklepios and his family were visually encased in the mythical and actual history of Messene. For example, Apollo, father of Asklepios, was represented possibly in a group with the Muses, either in oikos Ξ—where the presence of a semi-circular base suggested the arrangement of a compatible group—or in oikos H—where a head identified as that of Apollo was found.24 The group was closely related to a statue of Herakles, similarly related to the Messenian genealogy as being the great-great-grandfather of the Messenian king Kresphontes, who ruled after the Trojan wars. Next to them or in close relation, according to some in oikos M or N,25 were the statues of Epaminondas and Thebes, the 4th century founder of Messene and his motherland, a clear reference to the most recent history of the city-state. These constituted a fitting counterpart to the honours paid in the agora to the other founding figure of the Messenian community, the mythical heroine Messene, whose statue in marble and gold, possibly placed in her very temple, is known from both Pausanias’ description and from a statue base bearing a dedication by the sons of Damophon found in the excavations.26 Finally, the statue of Tyche, mentioned by Pausanias after that of Epaminondas would have provided a further key to reading the complex within a historical discourse: Tyche as the Tyche of Messene, personification of the city-state, or as the fate, the elemental force by which the events of history come about, very similar to that described by the contemporary historian Polybius in his works.27

In this extraordinary complex of architecture and sculpture the origins of Asklepios and his cult were retraced and evoked from his mythical birth from Apollo and Arsinoe, to his participation in the Trojan war with his physician sons, and finally his incorporation in Messenian royalty. Such a reconstruction was at the same time placed in the larger historical frame of contemporary Messenia and connected to a traditional religious network. On the one hand it was anchored to main historical figures and political developments, such as Epaminondas’ foundation and the role of Thebe, in order to give a sense of real and uninterrupted history from the mythical past to the tangible present; on the other hand it preserved the oldest religious traditions by making reference to the many heroic cults for the children of Asklepios sparse in the region and to the important role of the cult of Artemis Orthia. The latter, in particular, by offering a high degree of civic participation, contributed a very local dimension, where votive and honorary inscriptions highlighted the action of local notables. With their one-directional reference to Messenian civic and cultural sphere only, the buildings and sculptures of the Asklepieion of Messene can therefore be considered as the Hellenistic counterpart of the representation of the civic body, its history and traditions found in the architectural sculpture of Classical temples. At Messene, this innovative architectural project de-structures the traditional narratives based on relief and pedimental sculpture, by providing single, freestanding units, in the form of the oikoi, each telling a different and complementary story and framing the main central building. The result is that the

The only oikos securely identified in its function and furnishings, is oikos K dedicated to the cult of Artemis Orthia, judging from the many inscriptions found within. The cult is one of the oldest of the Messenian state, probably dates back to the period of Laconian control of the region and was here transferred from an older shrine in use until shortly after the construction of the Asklepieion.28 Here Damophon’s According to Sioumpara 2011: 224, not enough is left of the floor slabs to understand where the statue-base was placed, but it was certainly not attached to the back wall. 22  Il. II. 729-33; Diod. IV, 71. 23  On the architecture of the oikoi: Chlepa 2001: 76-89. 24  Melfi 2007: 278-279. 25  Melfi 2007: 276. 26  Paus. 4.31.11; IG v.1 1443 and SEG 41.352A–B. 27  As suggested by Torelli 1998: 481. To the statue of Tyche, Themelis attributes some fragments of foot, drapery and the torso of an infant (Themelis 1996: 164-165). 28  Themelis 1994. 21 

Chlepa 2001, 15-69. Themelis 1996, 165-166. 31  On the possible reconstruction of the ritual on the basis of the inscriptions and sculptural remains, see Themelis 1994. 32  See for example the inscription in honour of young Mego, whose parents had both served as priest and priestess of the god (SEG 23.220), or the many dedications of the Roman period offered in honour of well-serving priestesses by the civic body in the form of the Gerousia of (Artemis) Oupesia. 29  30 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

religious space becomes a sort of museum of local history that represents and glorifies the Messenian community, while offering them a way of preserving their identity and local history at times of disruption and changes.

room.35 Here the sacred banquets decreed by the community for benefactors and members of the elite, who were awarded the honour ‘dining in the hierothyteion’—probably the altar enclosure of the goddess where the sacrifice took place—were likely held.36 The importance of such practice is highlighted by the fact that the first large subscription ever associated with an intervention in the sanctuary after the fire relates to the purchase of drinking vessels.37 The incorporation of dining rooms in the most exclusive and controlled part of the sanctuary reflected the participation of only certain parts of the citizen body in certain rituals. These were the herothytai – religious officers belonging to the local elite—and those who received from them the privilege of banqueting close to the goddess. Ultimately the architecture of the Hellenistic sanctuary of Athana at Lindos was conceived with the Hellenistic civic community in mind, in particular the Rhodian community, where a strict cursus honorum regulated magistracies and priesthoods, and public offices were exclusively in the hands of a few local wealthy families.38 The incorporation of the mechanisms of participation of the civic body in the architecture of the sanctuary through varying degrees of access, has been aptly compared by Lippolis with Hellenistic palatial architecture. In Lippolis’ view, the succession of antechambers and peristyle courts, known from the basileia of Alexandria, Pella and Ai-Kanhoum, would ultimately regulate access to the rooms directly used by the king, in a relation similar to that of the two Lindian stoai with the temple of the goddess.39

Other two examples that I find enlightening to illustrate how the architecture of Hellenistic sanctuaries reflects the history and political order of the city they belong to are those of the sanctuaries of Rhodes at Lindos and Kamiros. In both these cases, it is the organisation of spaces and buildings alone, without the support of sculptural programmes, that enforces the connection between sanctuary and polis. In Lindos, the sanctuary of the traditional patron goddess Athana had a long history, but in 392/1 BC, the temple was destroyed by a fire together with most of its dedications. It was only rebuilt from around the 290s BC, after the siege by Demetrius, thanks to private donors and a large civic subscription of around 260 individuals. Members of the local elite took mostly upon themselves the expenses of rebuilding the sanctuary and of replacing its furnishings.33 The architectural shape taken by the sanctuary, after an innovative project, probably completed in successive stages, was new and impressive. It occupied the whole acropolis of Lindos, inverted the traditional, relatively indirect, access to the Archaic temple and provided a well-defined route where the architecture seems to have offered different levels of access and participation to the citizen body. The sacred space was articulated in three terraces with a clear central ascending axis leading to the highest and most sacred building of the complex, the temple of Athana—located in the very place of the Archaic cult place (Figure 2).

Even clearer is the example of the cult places of the city of Kamiros, in the same island of Rhodes, well studied by Luigi Calio’.40 Here the reconstruction of the city after the earthquake of 228 BC triggered the promotion of the main civic sanctuaries where major local families engaged in benefactions and dedications. The sanctuary of the patron gods of the city, Athana and Zeus Polieus, was on the top of the hill of Kamiros, and visually dominated the whole settlement (Figure 3). It was directly accessed through a main street cutting across the city, tortuous but clearly defined. This route seems to mark the ascension to the culminating point of the whole urban topography, the highest and probably the most sacred. The sanctuary was built on three terraces and occupied the whole acropolis. The lowest terrace hosted a single altar placed at the end of the main street leading up to the acropolis; the middle one consisted in a grandiose Doric stoa more than two hundred metres long, built on a fivemeters high terracing wall in ashlar masonry, and intersected by a monumental staircase on an axis with the temple; finally, on the upper terrace was the temple, the ultimate focus of the ascending route crossing the city.

The lowest level was entirely occupied by a large two-winged Doric stoa with paraskenia, constituting the first access point to the sacred complex by incorporating the monumental staircase leading up to the acropolis. The monumental, accessible architecture of this stoa, with free-standing colonnade and no attached rooms, and its commanding position are indicative of religious processions, communal rituals and celebrations open to the whole population of the island. Here a plethora of statue dedications of members of the local elite set up by Lindian magistrates, officials and colleges of magistrates would have offered visitors and worshippers a clear idea of the civic community that owned the place as much as a guarantee of continuity of Lindian agency and identity in the sanctuary.34 On the contrary, the divisive architectural layout of the upper stoa limited and regulated the access to the highest and most sacred part of the sanctuary. This second, much smaller, stoa, although architecturally similar to the lower one in the use of Doric order and paraskenia, was clearly accessible to a muchreduced number of visitors. It constituted the monumental entrance, through a series of relatively narrow doors and indirect passages, to an enclosed courtyard with the temple and its altar, on one side, and a series of rooms on the other side. These rooms have been interpreted by Enzo Lippolis as hestiatoria for ritual banqueting, on the basis of one inscription from the area relating to the maintenance of an andron or dining

Behind the two wings of the Doric stoa, on both sides of the monumental staircase, there were complex suites of rooms, at least seven on each side, consisting of a central larger room, Blinkenberg 1941, inscription no.290. Lippolis 1989: 135-137. Evidence of such meals in IG xii.1. 846; 847; 848; 849; 853. 37  This is the subscription of 260 private individuals mentioned above (Blinkenberg 1941, inscription no. 51). 38  The synthesis of Morricone’s and Pugliese Carratelli’s studies is to be found in Lippolis 1989: 118-123. 39  Lippolis 1989: 148-152. Although, I would not rule out an inverse relation, where the architecture devised by the Hellenistic elite for their self-representation in civic and religious complexes rather influenced that of the residences of the kings. 40  Most of the following is based on Caliò 2016. 35  36 

The chronological and architectural reconstruction here offered is mostly based on Lippolis 1989. 34  Lippolis 1989: 155-156. Of the same opinion Ma 2013: 223. 33 


Milena Melfi – Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach

Figure 2. Lindos: the sanctuary of Athana © Blinkenberg 1941 directly accessible from the colonnade, and two smaller ones, only accessible from the former through off-side entrances. On the basis of the epigraphical evidence, Luigi Caliò has been able to interpret these suites of rooms as hestiatoria where both the meetings of the mastroi (local magistrates who represented territorial or demographic units of the city) and official banquets of the polis, possibly during the festivals of Athana,

took place. The architectural shape of the suites of rooms also suggests that each of them could have been reserved for members of the same territorial or political unit, according to the specifics of the meeting, and could have accommodated up to nine klinai.41 Such large numbers of hestiatoria—especially 41 


Caliò 2011 and 2011a: 351-352.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Kamiros: the city and the sanctuary of Athana and Zeus © Scuola Archeologica Italiana di Atene


Milena Melfi – Sanctuaries and the Hellenistic Polis: An Architectural Approach


if compared to Lindos—implies a greater participation in the sacred functions of the sanctuary. The involvement of larger parts of the demos, of the population, in the sanctuary, seems also to be confirmed by a subscription from the first half of the second century BC that raised funds for public banquets celebrated during the local Panathenaic festivals.42 The sanctuary was therefore made to be used as a place of social participation for different sectors of the civic community, all of which would have found a place in the architectural units that composed the sanctuary. It was no coincidence that such a communal and highly political space was placed in the most topographically prominent site of the city, widely accessible from city and territory, and firmly under the protection of the patron gods of all Rhodian communities.

Birtacha, P. 2008, Μεσσήνη. Τό ωδείο καί τό ανατολικό πρόπυλο τού Ασκληπιέιου. Athens. Boardman J. 1977. The Parthenon frieze—Another view. In U. Höckmann and A. Krug (eds.), Festschrift für Frank Brommer; 39-49. Mainz/Rhein: Von Zabern. Blinkenberg, C. 1941. Lindos. Fouilles de l’Acropole 1902-1914. Vol. 2, Inscriptions. Berlin: W. de Gruyter. Boardman, J. 1982. Herakles, Theseus and the Amazons, in D.C. Kurtz and Sparkes, B. (eds) The Eye of Greece: studies in the Art of Athens: 1-28. Cambridge: CUP. Caliò, L. 2016. Traditionalism in cult practice in Hellenistic and Roman Kamiros in O. Bobou and M. Melfi (eds.) Hellenistic Sanctuaries. Between Greece and Rome: 63-81. Oxford: OUP. Caliò, L. 2011. Il pasto collettivo nei santuari dell’Egeo meridionale:struttura e forme di partecipazione, in Thiasos, : 38-40. Caliò, L. 2011a. The agora of Kamiros. A hypothesis. In A. Giannikouri (ed.), The agora in the Mediterranean from Homeric to Roman times: 343–55. Athens: Archaeological Institute for Aegean Studies. Chlepa, E.A. 2001. Μεσσήνη. Τό Αρτεμίσιο καί οί οίκοι τής δυτικής πτερύγας τού Ασκληπιείου Athens: The Archaeological Society. Deshours, N. 2011. L’été indien de la religion civique. Bordeaux: De Boccard. Gauthier, P. 1985. Les cités grecques et leurs bienfaiteurs  : (IVe-Ier siècle av. J.-C.). Contribution à l’histoire des institutions. Paris: BCH Suppl. 12. Hansen, M.H. 2006. Polis. An introduction to the Greek city-state. Oxford: OUP. Hansen M.H. and T.H. Nielsen .2004. An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis. Oxford: OUP. Ito, J. and Hayashida, Y. and Yoshitake, R. 2013. Architectural Study of the Stoas of the Asklepieion at Ancient Messene. Fukuoka : Kyūshū University Press. Kindt, J. 2009. Polis religion- A Critical Appreciation, Kernos 22: 9-34. Kindt, J. 2012. Rethinking Greek Religion. Cambridge: CUP. Lafond, Y. 2016. Euergetism and religion in the cities in the Peloponnese (first century BC to first century AD). In O. Bobou and M. Melfi (eds.) Hellenistic Sanctuaries. Between Greece and Rome:18-26. Oxford: OUP. La Rocca E. (ed.) 1988. L’ esperimento della perfezione. Arte e società nell’Atene di Pericle. Milan: Electa. Lippolis, E. 1989. Il santuario di Athana a Lindo. ASAtene 66–7: 97–157. Luraghi, N. 2008. The ancient Messenians : constructions of ethnicity and memory. Cambridge: CUP. Ma, J. 2008. Paradigms and Paradoxes in the Hellenistic world. Studi Ellenistici 20: 371-386. Melfi, M. 2007. I Santuari di Asclepio in Grecia. Roma: Bretschneider. Ma, J. 2013. Statues and cities : honorific portraits and civic identity in the Hellenistic world. Oxford: OUP. Melfi, M. 2016. Introduction. In M. Melfi and O. Bobou (eds.) Hellenistic Sanctuaries. Between Greece and Rome: 1-17. Oxford: OUP.

The architecture and the architectural narratives found at Messene and Rhodes are only a few among the many examples that confirm the uninterrupted relation between the polis and its cult places, throughout the Hellenistic period. This situation was not different from the eminent paradigm of Classical Athens where civic community and rituals found their highest expression in the architectural form of sacred buildings and their decoration. Does this mean that no change or break with tradition can be seen in hundreds of years of history, and successive political changes? Certainly not. If the relation between the polis and its sanctuaries did not change, the means and idioms used to maintain this relation underwent profound changes. These changes were born out of the tension between the conservatism of the religious establishment and the rapid development of Hellenistic society. They involved the traditional relationship between community and gods, albeit through the insertion of untraditional elements—private benefactors, kings and Romans—and applied not only to architecture and sculpture, but also to ritual and votivegiving practices. New architectural forms and relations were experimented with, and introduced new requirements and forms of representation. New systems of sculptural narratives were applied to untraditional complexes. A new relation with landscape, territory and community was sought. The concept of the citizen body also changed, to give way to new agents operating on behalf of the community: the local notables, who provided most financial means for the building, maintaining and functioning of sanctuaries and became, as suggested by Lafond, ‘the fundamental unit of polis religion’.43 The paradox lies in the fact that all these new elements had the final aim of keeping the traditional relation between communities and sanctuaries unchanged: ‘Bisogna cambiare tutto per non cambiare niente (everything must change if everything is to stay as it is)’ as Tomasi di Lampedusa in his novel, ‘The Leopard’, has Tancredi tell his uncle, Prince of Salina, regarding the annexation of Sicily to the newly formed Italian Kingdom. Since the paradox by definition defies theories and a priori mental constructions, us archaeologists, in order to understand these endless historical cycles, are left to return to the evidence, to the empirical roots of our discipline, to the humble work collecting materials, sites, images, texts, and assembling them together to reconstruct the larger picture, the way of working and thinking that John Boardman has taught us. 42  43 

Segre and Pugliese Carratelli 1951, inscription no. 159. Lafonde 2016: 26.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Müth, S. 2007. Eigene Wege. Topographie und Stadtplan von Messene in spätklassisch-hellenistischer Zeit. Verlag Marie Leidorf: Rahden/Westf. Polignac, F. de 1984. La naissance de la cité grecque. Cultes, espace, et société, VI IIe-V IIe siècles avant J.-C. Paris: Editions de la Découverte. Polignac, F. de 1995. Cults, territory, and the origins of the Greek city-state. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Segre M. and Pugliese Carratelli G. 1951. Tituli Camirenses. In ASAtene 27-29: 141-318. Sioumpara E. 2011. Der Asklepios-Tempel von Messene auf der Peloponnese. Munich: DAI. Sioumpara E. 2015. Doric innovations on the conservative landscape of Peloponnese during the Hellenistic period. In J. des Courtils ed. L’Architecture monumentale grecque au IIIe siècle a.C.: 197-221. Bourdeaux: Ausonius. Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 1990. What is polis religion? in O. Murray and S. Price (eds.), The Greek City: from Homer to Alexander: 195-222. Oxford: OUP.

Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 2000. What is polis religion?, in R.G.A. Buxton (ed.) Oxford Readings in Greek Religion: 13-37. Oxford: OUP. Themelis P. 1994. Arthemis Ortheia at Messene. The Epigraphical and Archaeological Evidence. In R. Hägg (ed.), Ancient Greek Cult Practice from the Epigraphical Evidence. Proceedings of the 2nd International Seminar at the Swedish Institute at Athens, 22-24 Novembre 1991:101-122. Stockholm: Jonsered. Themelis P. 1996. Damophon. In O. Palagia and J.J. Pollitt (eds.) Personal Styles in Greek Sculpture: 154-185. Cambridge: CUP. Themelis, P. 2000. Ηρώες καί ηρώα στή Μεσσήνη. Athens: The Archaeological Society. Torelli, M. 1998. L’Asklepieion di Messene, lo scultore Damofonte e Pausania in G. Capecchi et al. (eds.) Studi in memoria di Enrico Paribeni: 465-489. Rome: Bretschneider. Will, E. 1979. Le monde hellenistique et nous. AncSoc 10: 79-95.


‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’:1 Ancient Terracottas in the Field and the Museum Lucilla Burn Introduction1

site work is vital if we wish to shed new light on museum material. For good measure he suggested that within classical archaeological scholarship an entrenched Atheno-centric view of Mediterranean culture remains hard to shake off, while the independent cultures of other regions are both equally distinctive and more urgently in need of investigation.

‘no-one in the study of Antiquity has ever had clean hands’ concludes Professor James Whitley in an article published in the Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology in 2016.2 Whitley was responding to an article published by Professor Robin Osborne in the same journal twelve months earlier.3 Crudely to over-simplify his argument, Osborne had suggested that some classical archaeologists tend to over-privilege the importance of an object’s excavation context at the expense of other factors and contexts that could potentially contribute as much if not more to our understanding of its ancient status or significance. He therefore argued that it might be more time- and cost-effective to devote less energy to excavation and more to the study and assessment of objects in museum stores; and he offered as one of his case studies a detailed analysis of the iconographic schemes of six randomly chosen Athenian red-figured pelikai in the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge. Through an examination of the identities, status, postures and expressions of the usually paired figures who appear on these pots (to some extent a formal result of the shape of field at their painters’ disposal), he argued that analysing the iconography of these vessels enables us to pose and consider questions of relationships, especially of dominance, that would have been real and relevant to ancient viewers and users. This, he suggested, is at least as and possibly more enlightening than focusing on the Etruscan tombs in which the vessels had probably ended up, and certainly more worthwhile than bemoaning the fact that many such items in older museum collections are now irretrievably divorced from their findspots.

Of course, both Osborne’s and Whitley’s approaches and points of view are valid; and equally, both arguments are at times provocatively over-stated for the purposes of making their authors’ respective cases. With regard, specifically, to the merits of excavation contexts versus museum studies, neither scholar actually denies the validity of the other’s viewpoint. Osborne is not dismissing the importance of the excavation context, merely pointing out that an object’s final resting place represents a single moment in its history, and is just one of many factors and contexts to be taken into account in trying to reconstruct its ancient meaning or significance. And Whitley for his part is a diligent comber through old museum material and excavation reports to complement the new evidence his and others’ field-work brings to light. Indeed many, if not most, readers of this pair of articles would surely conclude that together they form an excellent demonstration of the benefits of a multi-directional approach to the material remains of antiquity. However, Osborne and Whitley’s stimulating pair of articles together inspired the idea of exploring the relative, or complementary, contributions that the study of terracottas with detailed excavation contexts, and of those seemingly marooned in museum stores or displays, can make towards our understanding of their ancient significances. Whitley’s lesser charge, that of the Atheno-centricism of classical archaeological studies, certainly does not apply to researches into ancient terracottas: while Athens was of course an important centre of terracotta production throughout antiquity, it was one of many. If the famous Hellenistic ‘Tanagra’ style most probably originated in Athens, many more, and more complete, examples have been found in Boeotia. And as demonstrated by the recent monumental publication of the 2007 Izmir Ancient Terracotta conference, in which papers relating to museum collections of terracottas were presented alongside those discussing more recently excavated material, the focus of coroplastic studies has increasingly been turning towards material from the eastern Mediterranean.4 It does remain true, however, that post-Minoan Crete, one of the principal areas of Whitley’s own scholarship, remains woefully under-studied in terracotta terms. Given the known range and quality of Cretan terracottas, it is perhaps surprising that only one of the ninety-odd otherwise wide-ranging contributions to the Izmir terracotta conference publications features Cretan material.5 Among the many achievements

As a career-long museum curator, and formerly the guardian of the vessels he was discussing, I was predictably disposed to find Osborne’s argument appealing. But it was probably equally predictable that Professor Whitley, a former Director of the British School at Athens and the director of numerous important and productive excavations on Mediterranean sites in recent years, would react very differently, as he duly did. As part of his argument, Whitley deployed a detailed and illuminating analysis of the archaeological context of the archaic and also later, Classical and Hellenistic, terracotta plaques from his own and earlier archaeological campaigns in and around Praisos in east central Crete, to argue that their excavation context was of primary importance in any approach to understanding their significance, and that in general terms, more, and more careful, excavation and Erickson 2009: 357. I am grateful to the organisers of the Lisbon Conference for inviting me to speak, and to friends and former colleagues in the British Museum, London, the Ashmolean Museum, Oxford and the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge, for enabling me to study the terracottas in these collections and for assistance in acquiring photographs. 2  Whitley 2016: The quotation is on p.261. 3  Osborne 2015. 1 

4  5 


Muller, Lafli, and Huysecom-Haxhi, 2015 /16. A Duplouy and A Zambon 2015/16. Des Terres Cuites pour Déméter.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

of (Louvre curator) Violaine Jeanmet’s magnificent Tanagra exhibition, research project and accompanying landmark publications of 2003-7,6 was the attention she drew to a tomb near Khania that contained four examples of a particularly large and beautiful Tanagra type, known as ‘la dame en bleu’ after the finest of four examples unearthed at Tanagra in the nineteenth-century and subsequently dispersed between Paris and Berlin. The Khania tomb, in which the terracotta figures were seemingly deliberately placed around the rim of the grave, as it were on the threshold between two worlds, is a vivid example of the possible deployment of such figures, a suggestion of the potential final context of many ‘museum’ terracottas; at the same time it expands our knowledge of the export and diffusion of Tanagra types across the Mediterranean.7 However, there are doubtless still hundreds of Cretan terracottas - or terracottas found in Crete - in museums all around the world that stand in need of the type of re-interpretation or -contextualisation that only excavations can provide.8 Whitley’s discussion of the archaic terracotta plaques from Praisos was a reminder, moreover, that these are among the relatively few groups of terracottas that Sir John Boardman has ever favoured with his attention. This was in his 1961 publication The Cretan Collection: the Dictaean Cave and Iron Age Crete,9 a groundbreaking assessment of the previously little-regarded postMinoan material from Crete – from terracottas to seals, ivories and bronzes - that had accumulated in the Ashmolean Museum through the work of both Arthur Evans and various British School excavations. John’s short spell as Assistant Keeper in the Museum from 1955 to 59 enabled him to sort, research and publish this material and to establish a baseline on which others could extend our understanding of this period and culture. The Cretan Collection, along with John’s even-handed approach to and equal interest in newly excavated, museum or private collection material, suggest that the 2017 Lisbon colloquium and this commemorative volume in his honour afford an appropriate opportunity to revisit these plaques in their several contexts, including that of the Osborne / Whitley debate.

Figure 1. Terracotta plaque: female figure seated with a child. © Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge (GR.49.1901) objects. This particular plaque, which is as extant 9 cms in height, and 6 wide, was acquired by the Fitzwilliam in 1901 as part of a large group of material purchased through John Marshall, who was active in Crete in the early twentieth century both in the British School excavations and in collecting for the Fitzwilliam. It is said to be from Lato near Kritsa in eastern Crete, south-west of Hagios Nikolaos. The second, only partially preserved Fitzwilliam plaque (Figure 2), shows the upper part of a standing male figure, facing left and wearing a long, calf-length tunic, and is from Praisos; it too was acquired in 1901 through Marshall, who reported it was ‘bought from a peasant’.11 There are better preserved examples of both types in the Ashmolean Museum (Figuress 3 and 4):12 the plaque with the male figure, both one of the commonest and as we shall see a highly intriguing type, was described by John Boardman as being

Introducing the Plaques To focus first on the examples in British museums, the Fitzwilliam Museum in Cambridge houses only two examples of these archaic Cretan terracotta plaques. The more complete plaque (Figure1) shows a female figure seated facing to the right, with a child on her lap.10 The Fitzwilliam plaque is very worn, or taken from a worn mould, as is characteristic of almost all the plaques known – suggesting that aesthetic considerations were not especially important to the purchasers, dedicators or indeed producers of these

‘from a large series with a man standing in profile to the left and holding a staff, which was painted on the background of the plaque. The example from Oxford … is from Praisos where many of these have been found. It is complete but it was carelessly made as the mould was allowed to shift and a double contour appears in some places. The calf-length dress is unusual: Cretan tunics usually reach to the knee, but this is nearer the full-length dresses worn by women. The short wig is often met in Crete… The last third of the seventh century seems the earliest likely date for such a figure.’ 13

Observations sur la petite plastique du sanctuaire de Vamies (Itanos, Crète). In Muller, Lafli, and Huysecom-Haxhi, 2015 /16: vol.2: 481-6. 6  Jeanmet 2003; Jeanmet 2007. 7  Jeanmet 2003: 194 with n.5. 8  To take just one example, see the terracotta figure British Museum, GR.1894,1107.1, Burn and Higgins 2001: no.2249. Acquired from George Dennis in 1894 and said to be ‘from Chania’ this monumental figure, perhaps a goddess or a priestess, is currently without published parallels. The figure’s excellent state of preservation suggests it is most likely to have been found in a tomb. But only if comparable figures come to light in documented contexts are we likely to make much progress in identifying its identity or significance. 9  Boardman 1961. 10  Fitzwilliam Museum, GR.49.1901.

Several more examples of these plaque types and others, including naked goddess or ‘Astarte’ figures, running warriors and warriors abducting youths, may be found in Fitzwilliam Museum, GR.48.1901. For provenance see Fitzwilliam Museum slip-book. 12  Ashmolean Museum, AN 1896-1908 G.706.a (the female figure) and AN 1896-1908 AE.193 (the male). 13  Boardman 1961:110. 11 


Lucilla Burn – ‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’

Figure 2. Terracotta plaque: standing male figure. © Fitzwilliam Museum, University of Cambridge (GR.48.1901)

Figure 3. Terracotta plaque: female figure seated with a child. © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford (AN 1896-1908 AE.193)

museums around the world, including the British Museum, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Musée du Louvre, Paris.14 The plaques are typically around 12.5 cms high by 4.5 wide, and between 0.5 and 1 cm in thickness. As Whitley has recently summarised,15 the known Cretan votive plaques of these types derive for the most part from expeditions and excavations undertaken by archaeologists of various nationalities in the 1890s and early 1900s. The large group now in the Metropolitan Museum of Art was excavated under American auspices by the Italian archaeologist Federico Halbherr, who was the first to publish an account of them in the American Journal of Archaeology in 1901.16 The relatively few examples in the Louvre were donated by the French School at Athens, while the small numbers in Oxford and Cambridge and a larger group in the British Museum derive for the most part from the British School at Athens’ earlytwentieth-century expeditions, and (as the recorded origins of the Fitzwilliam examples demonstrate) the occasions these offered for the purchase of related material, in central and eastern Crete. The material excavated by the British School was first published and a basic typology established, building on the descriptions and publications of Halbherr, by Edward S. Forster in two articles in the Journal of the British School at Athens between 1901 and 1905.17 Though Praisos itself, and its ancient territory, is a major centre for their discovery, the For the British Museum see Higgins 1954: nos 575-606. For the Metropolitan Museum of Art examples, MMA 53.5.4-47 see: (viewed 11.9.2017). For the Louvre examples see Mollard-Besques 1954: 30-31 and pl.22.!?q=Praisos&perPage= 20&sortBy=Relevance&sortOrder=asc&offset=0&pageSize=0 15  Whitley 2016. 16  Halbherr 1901. The Metropolitan Museum series (see note 14) was donated in 1953 by the Archaeological Institute of America. See also the brief history of the Metropolitan’s ancient terracotta collection by Kiki Karoglou: (viewed 11.9.2017). 17  Forster 1901/2 and 1904/5. 14 

Figure 4. Terracotta plaque: standing male figure. © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford (AN 1896-1908 G.706a)


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

plaques have also been found at other sites in eastern Crete; the majority can be dated on both stylistic and contextual grounds to the Archaic period, but their production and dedication continued through the Classical and Hellenistic periods, with the subject-matter remaining remarkably constant.

either of the naked goddess type or the male figure in calflength tunic, that the deity of the Roussa Ekklesia sanctuary was female – the ratio of the ‘goddess’ plaques to those of the male figures, whom he sees as votaries, is roughly 2:1. But he suggests, from the high numbers of male figure plaques that the sanctuary was not simply frequented by women, and that male worshippers were also present. Beyond that deduction he warns that ‘only at the most basic level do terracottas have uncontested meanings for us. They should be read as physical manifestations of prayers and personal expressions of piety.’21 Whitley agrees, drawing attention to the importance of the sacred landscape of these rural shrines overall, in addition to the significance of the rituals, some of which we may start to understand better through the rigorous collection and analysis of faunal and vegetal remains that his and others’ work now prioritises. Both scholars are also interested in questions of where and how sanctuary practices fit within and can illuminate the larger, overall picture of archaic Cretan society; here again they are in agreement that whatever their precise role in ritual, the plaques, with the continuity of iconography over several centuries that they demonstrate, may have played a part in establishing and cementing civic identity.

According to Whitley, some 170 archaic examples altogether are known, both from the old excavations just mentioned and from more recent field-work, including his own.18 Over the last twenty years he and others have been looking in some detail at the sites where the plaques were found, especially the spring sanctuary site of Vavelloi at Praisos, but also other sites within the ancient territory of Praisos, in order to clarify the contexts of their deposition. Within the archaic plaque group Whitley distinguishes fourteen principal subjects, of which naked goddesses (the so-called ‘Astarte’ type) and other female figures, warriors, (including examples of a warrior abducting a youth), youths with hand on hip and the male figures wearing calf-length tunics already noted, are the most numerous. In addition, around thirty-six Classical or Hellenistic plaques are known, largely of the same or similar subjects. Whitley has been able to show convincingly that while the naked female goddess type is widespread in eastern Crete, almost all known examples of five specific types (female figure with a tympanon, warrior, warrior abducting a youth, youth with hand on hip and male figure wearing calf-length tunic) were found within the territory of Praisos, the great majority at just two spring sanctuary sites, Vavelloi at Praisos itself and the outlying sanctuary of Roussa Ekklesia, southeast of Siteia.

The iconography of the male figure in the calf-length tunic has intrigued and challenged several scholars over the last 100 or so years. In the early 1900s both Halbherr and Forster debated whether the figure was male or female but Forster eventually concluded that while the long garment of the figure was unusual for a male figure, the short wig-style hair looked male rather than female, and this reasoning has been subsequently accepted.22 It was Halbherr who suggested that the figure originally held a painted staff, an idea later adopted by Boardman. Reynold Higgins, however, who published the three British Museum examples of the type in his first, 1954, volume of the Museum’s Catalogue of Terracottas,23 argued that the dress and attitude of the figure might suggest he was a charioteer. This idea found little favour; nor has the theory of the painted staff been generally accepted, since it would have been easy for the coroplast to incise a broad line in the mould to create a staff in relief, and no traces of paint have been found on any of the plaques, even those freshly excavated.

One of the questions that frequently exercises terracotta scholarship is whether terracottas, individually or in groups, can bestow meaning on a context through their form or iconography, or whether the reverse is true, that their significance purely derives from and so can vary with, its context. The second hypothesis is generally more popular, given the possibilities mould-made objects afford for mass production, and the regularity with which certain popular types, such as classic ‘Tanagras’, turn up in tombs, sanctuaries or even domestic contexts. With reference to the archaic Cretan plaques, Whitley and other experts in the archaeology and society of ancient Crete, including Professor Brice Erickson of the University of California at Santa Barbara, are sensibly but cautiously open to both points of view. They are especially focused on the warrior and warrior-abductingyouth types, because of the leads these might offer towards our understanding of initiation rites, and of the social and political structures of archaic Cretan society. But Erickson, who in 2009 published the plaques excavated by Professors Platon and Papadakis in the 1950s and 80s at Roussa Ekklesia and now in the museum at Siteia,19 offers salutary warnings as to the limits of the evidence these terracottas can offer with regard to the nature of the worship that went on either there or at the similar spring sanctuary at Vavelloi (Praisos). He argues that votive offerings like plaques, vessels or lamps, ‘undoubtedly had a subsidiary role to animal sacrifice or libations’.20 He thinks it reasonable to deduce from the imagery of the Roussa Ekklesia plaques, which were predominantly

Higgins proved more enduringly influential in his assertion that ‘cracks in the mould’24 were responsible for the apparent arrangement of straps that seems to cross the man’s left elbow, a theory that was fairly universally accepted or at least frequently repeated until 2009 when it was definitively squashed by Erickson in his illuminating study of the forty fragmentary Roussa Ekklesia examples of the type. While his study makes every effort to restore this material to its archaeological context and to investigate its wider, cultural significance, the focus on the detail of the plaques themselves, their clay, technique and iconography, was surely promoted by the fact that he was able to study them at one remove from their excavation context, in museum conditions. Discussing the ‘cracks in the mould’, he pointed out that since this supposed fault is universally present on every plaque known, and evident on plaques taken from more Erickson 2009: 376. Halbherr 1901: 389; Forster 1904/5: 248. 23  Higgins 1954: nos.582, 3 and 4. 24  Higgins 1954: no. 582. 21 

Whitley 2016: 257-8. 19  Erickson 2009. 20  Erickson 2009: 376. 18 



Lucilla Burn – ‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’

range of possibilities present themselves: while an aryballos is certainly simple and quite probable, a small satchel for seeds28 or even a censer could also be considered. Erickson has also carefully analysed the dress of the figure, paying due tribute to Boardman’s references to the patterned borders of the garments worn by contemporary offering bearers on, for example, bronze plaques from Kato Syme,29 and pointing out that this may reinforce his interpretation of the figure as a votary. Nor should his suggestion that the raised right hand is intended to be holding a flower be discounted, as this too would be appropriate in the context and it is perhaps possible to discern faint outlines of a small object beyond the fingers on some plaques. Erickson’s overall conclusion is that the figure is most definitely likely to represent a votary, his compromise-length dress, besides his other possible attributes suggesting that he may be an adolescent boy, on the verge of crossing the threshold from child- to adult-hood. Back to the Museum While he concurs with Whitley as to the desirability of studying these terracotta plaques in their excavation contexts, Erickson shows how our understanding of them can be complemented, indeed extended, by detailed, museum-based study of the artefacts themselves. So following his example, it seemed worthwhile returning to some of the plaques found in the excavations of over 100 years ago, to see what more information can be gleaned from them today. Careful study of the surviving half of the Fitzwilliam’s sole male with calflength garment plaque (Figure 2) revealed only that the clay was fine, smooth, and hard fired, the back surface uneven, with finger-marks evident in the clay: the strap around the left arm does, however, appear quite clearly. As for the three British Museum examples,30 the most complete plaque is in extremely poor condition, and the other two fragments do not preserve the crucial area around the left elbow. However, a few observations can still be made about their clay and technique. Visually, the character of the clay seems consonant with that observed by Erickson for the Roussa Ekklesia group, being relatively fine with few inclusions, and traces of a creamcoloured slip are visible on the two smaller fragments, though not on the most complete example, which is more softly fired than the other two. The British Museum warrior plaques, on the other hand, are mainly of a much rougher, coarser clay, similar again to a few of the Roussa Ekklesia plaques, and they are much less well fired.

Figure 5. Composite drawing of the standing male figure plaque type; Erickson 2009, fig. 11 (drawing by B. Christopher); courtesy American Journal of Archaeology and Archaeological Institute of America than one mould series, it is not the result of an accidental defect but rather a potentially intriguing iconographic detail. His suggestion is that the figure carries an aryballos hanging from a thong wrapped round his left elbow, a hypothesis demonstrated by the very useful composite drawing of the plaque that he provides (Figure 5).25 There are difficulties with his interpretation; because this detail is so near the edge of every plaque, where the blurring of already rather softly modelled details is most likely to occur, it remains very hard to read; while an actual aryballos may be imagined with the eye of faith on some plaques, and parallels with figures on Assyrian reliefs26 are tempting, if imprecise, it is hard to see exactly how the strap arrangement is functioning; Erickson’s proposal that the aryballos is ‘suspended from the arm and attached to the body by a stay’27 is difficult fully to realise. However, if we agree that an item of some sort, most probably a votive or other ritual object, is being carried, a

The late Richard Nicholls, a great expert on archaic and classical terracottas and first Keeper of Antiquities at the Fitzwilliam Museum, suggested to John Boardman that the plaques were made by carving the designs directly into the mould, rather than by making a model and moulding from it;31 presumably he deduced this from the shallowness of the relief and indeed of the plaques overall. At all events, the Fitzwilliam and British Museum male votary plaques, which display concave areas on the back, were evidently made from a single, thin sheet of clay pressed into the mould. Although

Erickson 2009, fig. 11 (drawing by B. Christopher); reproduced here courtesy American Journal of Archaeology and Archaeological Institute of America. 26  Many figures both human and divine on Assyrian reliefs wear straps or bracelets around the arm above the elbow, and carry ladles or small boxes, but I have not as yet been able to find an example of a figure suspending something from the elbow strap. See for the position of the armlet, of many possibilities, the two figures on Assyrian relief British Museum 124567, research/collection_online/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId =367023&partId=1&searchText=Assyrian+relief&images=true&page =1 (viewed 26.9.2017) 27  Erickson 2009: 370. 25 

As carried, for example, by Aristaios on an Attic black-figured amphora in Kassel, attributed to The Affecter, Kassel T679, Paralipomena 111.25bis, Beazley Archive 340429. 29  Boardman 1961: 110. 30  Higgins 1954: nos. 582,3 and 4. 31  Nicholls’ suggestion is recorded in Boardman 1961: 109, n.6. 28 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 6. Reynold Higgins’ note in the Departmental Register of the Department of Greece and Rome, British Museum, reproduced courtesy of the British Museum one of the British Museum examples32 appears in section to consist of three layers of clay, these were probably pressed together as one sheet before pressing into the mould. Some of the larger, coarser warrior plaques demonstrate a slightly different technique: while elements of their design, notably the shields, appear in high relief on the front, the plaques generally have fairly smooth, flat backs, a result produced by first filling the circular impression for the shield with a separate piece of clay, then pressing a flat piece over the mould as a whole, and smoothing out the upper surface.

recognition that the terracottas were so close to those he had originally catalogued that there could be no doubt as to their origin. This is confirmed by examination of both the registers, which include Downing’s neat sketches of the familiar naked goddess and running warrior types, and of the material itself, now neatly and accessibly stored in the British Museum’s well-ordered basements (Figure 7). While one might be tempted to criticise Higgins for overlooking this group in the early 1950s, it should be remembered that the British Museum and its collections took some time to recover from the major damage and disruption caused by the Second World War, during which the collections had been dispersed in several different locations both within and outside the Museum. Large parts of the Greek and Roman collections indeed remained inaccessible until the 1960s. Interestingly enough, Higgins does seem to have come across a few that had escaped registration in 1907, since three of those in his 1954 catalogue were registered in 1948, the year after he entered the Museum and started to study the terracottas.35 But it seems likely that the main additional group, unregistered in 1907, had become separated from the main series and so over-looked until the British Museum embarked on a large-scale project to register previously unregistered material in the 1970s.

Significant in terms of the British Museum’s Praisos material is the recognition that there is considerably more of it than the seventeen plaques and fifteen free-standing figures or protomes donated by the British School at Athens (and almost all registered) in 1907 and published in Higgins’ 1954 Catalogue.33 A search for Praisos on the Museum’s website produces an additional sixty-two terracottas from the site that were registered in 1973, nineteen years after the Catalogue was published.34 In the Greek and Roman Department’s Register, this 1973 sequence is headed by a note in Higgins’ hand that says ‘found unregistered, all together’ (Figure 6) and a supplementary note in the hand of the then documentation assistant, Michael Downing:‘On internal evidence, almost certainly from Praisos and acquired with 1907.1-19.60-90’ - in other words, the original Praisos sequence. This ‘internal evidence’ was surely Higgins’ own

As Erickson pointed out with reference to the Roussa Ekklesia material, ‘Even the fragments … merit scrutiny, for not only can they document previously unknown types, or throw light on particular iconographic details’ but also ‘documenting the frequency of artefacts can reveal shifts in the popularity

Higgins 1954: no. 584. Higgins 1954: nos.575-606. 34  These additional fragments are part of the registration sequence GR.1973.0420.1-60. They are most conveniently consulted via the British Museum website: see research/collection_online/search.aspx?searchText=Praisos (viewed 11.9.17). 32  33 



Higgins 1954: nos. 577, 578 and 586.

Lucilla Burn – ‘Even the fragments, however, merit scrutiny’

Figure 7. Some of the additional fragments of Praisos terracottas stored in the British Museum, reproduced courtesy of the British Museum of votive types and changes in religious practice’.36 Whitley produces charts detailing numbers of each type of plaque recorded either from excavations or museum catalogues: he uses these to draw conclusions about the relative popularity of different types at different sites and periods. As already mentioned, in total he records 206 plaques, 170 from the archaic and 36 from the classical and Hellenistic periods, but for the British Museum he is reliant on Higgins’ 1954 catalogue and apparently unaware of the additional ‘1973’ examples. 37

he has already identified as dominant at Praisos. Does this mean that recognition of their existence is not particularly significant? Surely not: when the sample is so small, it will certainly be worthwhile to include these additional museum examples in future analyses, and thereby hone a truly ‘symbiotic’,38 combined field- and museum-study approach, to ancient material culture.

Of the sixty-two terracotta items in the 1973 registration sequence, nine are fragments of free-standing figures, one is a bull’s head protome, and four fragments are too small or indistinct to be readily identifiable. The remaining forty-eight identifiable plaque fragments comprise twenty-five examples of the naked female deity type, and twenty-three warriors; disappointingly they include no additional examples of the male in calf-length tunic type. While the majority of the naked female deities appear to be archaic, a proportion of the warriors may belong to the classical or later series. The forty-eight additional examples certainly increase Whitley’s overall figure by around 25%. Interestingly, however, they do not drastically alter, but rather reinforce the conclusions he draws from his original corpus, since the two types are those

So what, if anything, might we conclude with regard to the overall question of the relative ‘value’ of studying terracottas in the field or the museum? The common-sense conclusion, with which Sir John Boardman would certainly agree, and which his wide-ranging research into ancient art and archaeology exemplifies, is obviously that it is not meaningful to privilege one approach above the other, or even to suppose that the two can be decisively or usefully separated. Nor is the distinction in terms of provenance information between terracottas found in efficiently documented modern excavations and those in old collections with rather vaguer records of their provenance always cut and dry. However, on balance it does seem to be the case that ‘minor objects’ like these plaques do stand in greater need of an appreciation of their probable excavation contexts in order to elucidate their

36  37 

General Conclusions

Erickson 2009: 357. Whitley 2016: 257-8.



Whitley 2016: 260.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


meaning or function than more prestigious types of object. Terracottas differ from, say, bronze or marble sculpture or indeed Athenian red-figured pelikai, in that they are less likely to travel far from their site of manufacture, and less likely to have been ‘used’ more than once; this means that their findspots, their final resting places, are in all probability quite close to the sites where they were manufactured, and where they functioned; such objects have attracted fewer contexts, amassed shorter personal biographies, than more valuable items. In other words, their findspots may well be more significant in terms of helping us to grasp their ancient meaning, than is necessarily or will always be the case with the more complex sequences of uses and contexts that more valuable objects may have experienced. Following on from this, it becomes undeniable that many ‘museum’ terracottas, while offering excellent opportunities for analysis of clays, techniques and iconographies, would greatly benefit from being re-contextualised within their actual findspots, where these can be documented, or artificially (and ‘virtually’) inserted into the findspots of comparable items where their own are irretrievably lost.39 In order for this to happen there is a need for both old museum collections and material from recent excavations to be properly published and assessed. Many museums have made great strides in recent decades in making their collections available online. But quantities of the terracottas excavated over the last fifty or so years, whether stored in museums or excavation repositories, still await full publication. Collaboration and pooling of knowledge and resources on the part of excavators, curators and all other scholars, as exemplified by the 2007 Izmir ancient terracotta conference, must surely be the best way forward. And so far as Crete is concerned, there are still great opportunities to continue the study of the island’s post-Minoan cultures, so ably pioneered by Sir John Boardman.


Boardman, J. 1961. The Cretan Collection in Oxford: The Dictaean Cave and Iron Age Crete. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Burn, L.M. and Higgins, R.A. 2001. Catalogue of Terracottas in the British Museum vol.3. London: British Museum. Erickson, B. 2009. Roussa Ekklesia, Part 1: Religion and Politics in East Crete. In AJA 113.3: 353-404. Forster, E.S. 1901/2. Praesos: the Terracottas. In BSA 8: 271-81. Forster, E.S. 1904/5. Terracotta Plaques from Praesos, East Crete. In BSA 11: 243-57. Halbherr, F. 1901. Cretan Expedition XVI. Report on the Researches at Praesos. In AJA 5.4: 371-92. Higgins, R.A. 1954. Catalogue of Greek Terracottas in the British Museum vol.1. London: British Museum. Jeanmet, V. 2003. Tanagra. Mythe et Archéologie, Exposition Paris-Montréal 2003-2004 Paris: Réunion des Musées Nationaux. Jeanmet, V. 2007 (ed.). Tanagras. De l’objet de collection à l’objet archéologique. Paris: Réunion des Musées Nationaux. Mollard-Besques, S. 1954. Museé du Louvre. Catalogue raisonné des figurines et reliefs en terre cuite grecs, étrusques et romaines vol.1. Paris: Réunion des Musées Nationaux. Muller, A., Lafli, E., and Huysecom-Haxhi, S. 2015 /16. Figurines de terre cuite en Méditerranée grecque et romaine, vol.1, Athens and Paris (BCH Supplement 54), and vol. 2, Villeneuve d’Ascq, Septentrion Press. Osborne, R. 2015. De-contextualising and Re-contextualising: Why Mediterranean Archaeology Needs to Get out of the Trench and Back into the Museum. In Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 28.2: 241-61. Whitley, J. 2016. Fusing the Horizons, or Why Context Matters: The Interdependence of Fieldwork and Museum Study in Mediterranean Archaeology. In Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 29.2: 247-69.

This view is eloquently propounded by Jeanmet, 2007: 43.


The Good, the Bad, and the Misleading: A Network of Names on (Mainly) Athenian Vases. Thomas Mannack The earliest inscriptions

Athens bear the painted signature ‘ΣΟΦΙΛΟΣ ΜΕΓΡΑΦΣΕΝ’.8 A third dinos in Athens is signed ‘ΣΟΦΙΛΟΣ ΜΕΠΟΕΣΕΝ OR ΜΕΓΡΑΦΣΕΝ’.9 On the mixing vase excavated in Thessaly10 Sophilos also added the earliest known caption: ‘ΠΑΤΡΟϙΛΥΣ ΑΤΛΑ’.

The earliest Greek inscriptions are incised graffiti on geometric pottery from around the middle of the 8th century. They were usually inscribed by their owners some time after the purchase. A late geometric oinochoe found in Athens1 was presented as a prize in a dancing competition and bears the incised inscription HOΣ ΝYΝ OΡΧΕΣΤÔΝ ΠΆΝΤΟΝ AΤΑΛΌΤΑΤΑ ΠΑΊΖΕΙ, ΤÔ ΤΌΔΕ ΚΛ[.]ΜΙΝ[...], ‘Whoever of all these dancers now plays most delicately, to him this ...’ on the black shoulder. Other vases name their owners, one of whom was clearly worried to lose a prize possession since he wrote ‘I am the cup of Hakesandros … whoever steals me … will lose his eyesight’ on a late geometric cup excavated in Methone.2 Sir John Boardman donated an Attic late geometric fragment from Al Mina with an incised graffito …]ναβεο[… to the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford.3 A late geometric Euboean skyphos, found in Pithekoussai4 and usually dated 740/720, preseves the first reference to the works of Homer: ‘ΝΈΣΤΟΡΟΣ [....] ΕΠΟΤ[ΟΝ] ΠΟΤΉΡΙΟ[Ν] OΣ Δ’ AΝ ΤΟYΔΕ Π[ΊΗΣΙ] ΠΟΤΗΡΊ[ΟΥ] ΑYΤΊΚΑ ΚHΝΟΝ HIΜΕΡ[ΟΣ ΑIΡ]ΉΣΕΙ ΚΑΛΛΙΣΤ[ΕΦΆΝ]ΟΥ ἈΦΡΟΔΊΤΗΣ›.

Corinthian vase-painters began to sign their works in the second quarter of the sixth century. Most of these signatures appear on pottery dedications in sanctuaries, particularly the sanctuary of Poseidon at Penteskouphia.11 The artist usually signs as maker and giver; Milonidas wrote ’Mιλονιδασμεγραψεκανεϑεκε’ on a plaque found in the Poseidon sanctuary.12 A much humbler skyphos dated around 560 found in Corinth is inscribed with an unusually phrased signature ‘EΧΕΚΛΕΣ ΑΝΕ[ΘΕΚ]Ε ΠΟΕΣΑ[Σ]’ .13 The name of the maker Echekles may also appear on a fragmentary blackfigure Panathenaic amphora from the Athenian Acropolis dated around 550.14 The reading is far from certain: J.D. Beazley follows B. Graef and E. Langlotz reading [ΚΑΛΟ] Σ̣? ΕΧΕΚΛΕ[Σ].15 H. Immerwahr records the inscription as ‘FΕΧΕΚΛΕ[ΙΔΕΣ ...’,16 and agrees with A. Johnston17 who interprets the inscription as a potter’s signature. This raises the –admittedly remote – possibility that a Corinthian potter moved to Athens to ply his trade.

Signatures The earliest known signature, …ΙΝΟΣ ΜΕΠΟΙΕΣΕ., occurs on a krater fragment found in Pithekoussai dated around 700/680.5 It is generally assumed that ‘epoiesen’ refers to the potter,6 but it is possible that it also denoted ‘potted and painted’; the artist responsible for the fragment may have been particularly proud of his frontal face, the earliest in Greek vase painting. Around 650 a West Greek artist signed a large bell-krater with Odysseus blinding Polyphemus on the obverse and a naval battle on the reverse ‘AΡΙΣΤΟΝΟΘΟΣΜΕΠΟΙΕΣΕΝ’ using the Euboean script.7 Sophilos was the first Athenian artist to sign vases around 580, a dinos in London and two dinoi in

Inscriptions Representing Speech Few inscriptions representing speech include names. Exekias’ Ajax and Achilles shout out numbers,18 the man on Euphronios’ pelike in St. Petersburg invokes Herakles,19 and the males on a fragmentary cup from the Acropolis invoke benevolent demons and Zeus.20 Proper names appear to have been inspired by recent events, such as Eurymedon on the Athens, National Museum, 15165, 15499, London, British Museum, 1971.11-1.1, ABV 39.15. 16 Para 19.16bis; Boardman, ABFV, 28-29, figs. 24-6; Williams, D., Greek Vases in the J. Paul Getty Museum 1 (1983) 13-34. 9  Athens, National Museum, 2035.1, ABV 42.36. 10  Athens, National Museum, 15499. 11  Wachter, R., Non-attic Greek vase inscriptions (Oxford, 2001) 119-155. 12  Black-figure Corinthian plaque, Paris, Louvre, MNC 212, Cuomo di Caprio, N., ‘Pottery Kilns on Pinakes from Corinth’, Ancient Greek and Related Pottery, Proceedings of the International Vase Symposium 5 (Amsterdam, 1984) 72-82. 13  Newhall, A.E., ‘The Corinthian Keramikos’, AJA 25 (1931) 10; Payne, H., Necrocorinthia, a study of Corinthian art in the archaic period (Oxford, 1931) 2270. 14  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll.: 1.914, CAVI 997; ABV 666; Bentz, M., Panathenäische Preisamphoren, Eine athenische Vasengattung und ihre Funktion vom 6.-4. Jahrhundert v. Chr. 18. Beihefte zur Antiken Kunst (Basel, 1998) pl. 10.6020. Attic Script, no. 956. Cf. LGPN II, 192, s.v. Eχεκλης. 15  Graef–Langlotz, 1, pl. 60.914; ABV 666. 16  CAVI 997. 17  Johnston, A., ZPE 54 (1984) 115-117. 18  Vatican City, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco, 16757, CAVI 6979. 19  St. Petersburg, State Hermitage Museum, 615, CAVI 7346. 20  Athens, N.M. Acr. 2.434, CAVI 1361. 8 

Athens, National Museum, 192. Powell, E.A., ‘When the Ancient Greeks Began to Write. Newly discovered inscriptions help explain how literacy spread’, Archaeology May/June 2017, 44-49, 48. See also, Strauss Clay, J., Malkin, I., and Tzifopoulos, Y.Z. (eds.), Panhellenes at Methone, Graphe in Late Geometric and Protoarchaic Methone, Macedonia (ca 700 BCE), Trends in Classics 44 (Berlin and Boston, 2017). 3  Oxford Ashmolean Museum, 1982.889, CVA Oxford 4, 24, fig. e, pl. 51.3; OJA 1 (1982) 365-367, figs. 1-2. 4  Lacco Ameno, Villa Arbusto, Meiggs, R. & Lewis, D., A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions to the end of the Fifth Century BC. (Oxford, 1988); Faraone, C., ‘Taking the ‘Nestor’s Cup Inscription’ seriously: erotic magic and conditional curses in the earliest inscribed hexameters,’ Classical Antiquity 15 (1996) 77-112. 5  Hurwit, Signatures, 71-72 with fig.32. 6  Hurwit, Signatures, 71-76; Boardman, EGVP, 82, fig. 162. 7  Rom, Museo Capitolini, Castellani 172, Wachter, R., Non-attic Greek vase inscriptions (Oxford, 2001) 29-30, no. INC 1; Gianni, G.B., ‘Aristonothos, il vaso’, Aristonothos 1 (2007) 5-15; Boardman, EGVP, 114, 140, fig. 282. 1  2 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Triptolemos Painter’s jug in Hamburg named after the place of a victorious battle,21 and a certain lack of imagination: Phintias chose his colleague’s name, Euthymides, for the toast uttered by a hetaira on his hydria in Munich.22

Painter used the name Apollodoros for a young komast on a stemless cup in Moscow around 460/450.38 A Diphilos made a joint dedication on the Athenian Acropolis in 500/48039 and was known in the potters’ quarter too.40 He was a favourite of the Brygos Painter in 490/480.41 The Painter of Athens 12789 named a later Diphilos ‘kalos’ on white ground lekythoi about 46042 and the Beldam Painter inscribed the names Diphilos, Aristiphos, and …chos on funerary stelai on a white ground lekythos in Chicago around 450.43 Diphilos, son of Melanopos, identified by H.A. Shapiro as the Archon Eponymous of 442/441,44 was declared kalos by the Achilles Painter on 14 white ground lekythoi with domestic scenes from Eretria45 and made a proxenos of Alea in 425.46 The names of eponymous archons were rarely inscribed on vases with the exception of 4th century Panathenaic prize amphorae. Among the few examples are a beautiful younger Hipparchos (496/495),47 a youth named Euthippos (461/460) on a stamnos by Polygnotos,48 and Dromokleides (475/474) as father of Dromippos.49

Dedications Many dedicatory inscriptions are incised, even on objects made specifically for that purpose such as a plaque offered by an otherwise unknown Ninnion.23 Among the specific commissions or dedications by potters and painters are phialai from Eleusis and the Athenian Acropolis inscribed by the potter Sosimos,24 and a black-figure plaque by Skythes.25 Neandros signed a pyxis, which he also inscribed for Phaikides, who offered the pot to Artemis in her sanctuary in Brauron.26 Sosias, perhaps the potter known from several signatures,27 incised his name on a cup and a skyphos on the Athenian Acropolis.28 Phintias showed Sosias on a belly-amphora in Paris in the company of the otherwise unknown Demostratos, Chares, and Sotinos29 and a painter from the Leagros Group with the equally unknown Pyles, Chariades, Dikes, and Leukon.30 A different Pedieus’ beauty was praised by Skythes and other red-figure cup-painters around 500,31 and the Achilles Painter named a Klenias or Kleinias, son of Pedieus, kalos in 450.32 Kleinias’ qualities were also appreciated by the Alkimachos Painter.33

In the third quarter of the 5th century, a further Diphilos was a beau on a cup from the Athenian Agora50 and the Kraipale Painter wrote the name next to two athletes on the obverse and reverse of a pelike in the British Museum.51 Added Names (and Further Signatures)

A cup from the Artemision at Thasos assigned to Epiktetos was inscribed before firing with the legend ΑΠΟΛΛΟΔΩΡΟΣ hΟ ΔΙΙΦΙΛΟ ΑΝ[ƐΘΕΚΕΝ], both names are common.34 An Apollodoros, a contemporary of Epiktetos working from around 510 to 480, signed 3 cups as painter.35 The beauty of an Apollodoros was praised by an anonymous artist on a cup from Adria36 around 470, and perhaps by the Argos Painter on a stamnos in Oxford dated around 480.37 The Euaion

Vase-painters added names to figures from around 670/650 when the Polyphemus Painter wrote ‘MΕΝΕΛΑΣ’ next to one of five identically dressed bearded males with spears in procession on a stand once in Berlin.52 The name is written in the Doric dialect, the painter may have therefore been a resident foreigner. However, the inscription might represent a spoken word, the chant of a theatrical chorus, which used the Doric dialect in Attica.53 The painter of a Protoattic bowl from Aegina54 added the inscriptions AΡΕΠΥΙΑ, ΠΕΡΕΥΣ, and AΘΕΝΑΙΑ next to his

Hamburg, Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, 1981.173, Gerleigner, G., ‘Tracing Letters on the Eurymedon Vase: On the Importance of Placement of Vase-Inscriptions’, Yatromanolakis, D. (ed.), Epigraphy of Art: Ancient Greek Vase-Inscriptions and Vase-Paintings (Oxford, 2016) 165-184 with figs. 1-15; K.Schauenburg, ‘Eὐρυμέδον εἶμι’ Athener Mittteilungen 90 (1975) 118; CAVI 3880. 22  Munich, Antikensammlungen, 2421, CAVI 5285. 23  Athens, National Museum, 11036, CAVI 231; Levente, I., and Metsopolou, C. (eds.), Hiera kai latreies tes Demetras ston archaio helleniko kosmo (Volos, 2010) 134. 24  Eleusis, Archaeological Museum, 458, CAVI 3412. Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 2.1078, CAVI 1472. 25  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 1.2556, CAVI 1187. 26  Brauron, Museum, CAVI 2868; Para 70. 27  Cup, Berlin, Antikensammlung: F 2278, ARV2 21.1, 1620. Stand, Berlin, Antikensammlung: F 2315, CVA Berlin, AntikensammlungPergamonmuseum 1, 58-59, Beilage 6.2, pl. 36.7-8. 28  Athens, Acropolis Museum, 1.1401, 1.1628, Graef, B. & Langlotz, E., Die antiken Vasen von der Akropolis zu Athen, 1 (Berlin, 1925) pls. 77.1401, 83.1628a-c. 29  Paris, Louvre, G 42, ARV2 23.1, 1620. 30  London, British Museum, B 199, ABV 367.89. 31  E.g. a cup by Skythes, Berlin, Antikensammlung: 4855, ARV2 1605.3 32  Syracuse, Museo Archeologico Regionale, 21186, CAVI 7552, Shapiro, Patronymic, 109, 113-115; Robinson & Fluck, 127-129; LGPN II, 263, s.v. Kλεινιας. Probably the same as on the neck-amphora London, British Museum, 1867.0508.1052, CAVI 4563; ARV2 1590. 33  Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 81487, CAVI 5430; ARV2 1590. 34  Thasos, Archaeological Museum, CAVI 7665. 35  ARV2 1580. 36  Adria, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 22202, CVA Adria 1, pl. 23.1. 37  Brenne, Indices, 34; ARV2 1565, 1698. Oxford, Ashmolean Museum, 21 

1911.625. 38  Moscow, Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts, M 729, CVA 4, 48, pl. 42.2.4. 39  IG I³ 950; Keesling, ‘Patrons of Athenian votive monuments of the Archaic and Classical periods: Three Studies’, Hesperia 74 (2005), 395426. For the name, LGPN 132-133. 40  Brenne, Indices, 36. 41  London, British Museum, 1848.0619.7, ARV2 1574. 42  ARV2 1575. 43  Chicago, University of Chicago, D. & A. Smart Gallery, 1967.115.359, ARV2 1575; CAVI 3152. 44  Shapiro, Patronymic, 114. 45  Athens, National Museum, 1923, ARV2 1574. 46  Dittenberger, Inschriften von Olympia, no. 30; Robinson & Fluck, 98; Siewert, P, ‘Archaische Bronzeplatte eines unteritalischen Proxenos der Eleer’, Tyche 28 (2013) 153. 47  Mannack, T, ‘Hipparchos Kalos’, Yatromanolakis, D. (ed.), Epigraphy of Art: Ancient Greek Vase-Inscriptions and Vase-Paintings (Oxford, 2016) 43-52. 48  University, University of Mississippi, 1977.3.96. 49  Shapiro, Patronymic, 114. 50  Athens, Agora Museum, P 15436, ARV2 1575, CAVI 504. 51  London, British Museum, 1865,0103.24 (E 389), CAVI 4581. 52  Berlin, Antikensammlung A 42, CVA, Berlin, Antiquarium 1, 5-8, 2425, pls. 31.1-3, 32.1, 33.1; Boardman, EGVP, 104, figs. 207.1-2. 53  Ferrari, G., Menelas, JHS 107 (1987) 180–182; Ferrari, G, Alcman and the cosmos of Sparta (Chicago, 2008). 54  Berlin, Antikensammlung, F 1682, CVA Berlin, Antiquarium 1, 5-8, 36-39, pls. 46.1-2, 47.1-2.


Thomas Mannack – The Good, the Bad, and the Misleading: A Network of Names on (Mainly) Athenian Vases

figures. Around the same time, a vase-painter in Corinth named the participants in the Judgement of Paris on a splendid Protocorinthian olpe excavated in Veii AΘΑΝΑΙΑ and AΦΡΟΔ[… . He did not use the Corinthian, but a West Greek script.55 Three explanations have been offered: the vase is not Corinthian, given clay, style, and technique are typical of Corinthian products, this appears unlikely; that the buyer specified a ‘legible’ script, equally unlikely, since the Etruscans did not object to the Corinthian script on other vases; or that the painter of the olpe was a foreigner working in Corinth. Signatures on Athenian vases show that non-Greeks or their descendants were active in the potters’ quarter. Among these putative foreigners are two Lydoi, the famous vase-painter Lydos who signed a fragmentary dinos from the Athenian Acropolis as potter and painter, ‘[HΟ ΛΥΔΟΣ ΕΠΟΙΕ]ΣΕΝ : HΟ ΛΥΔΟΣ Ε[Γ]ΡΑΦΣΕΝ’, ‘the Lydian made it, the Lydian painted it’,56 and an amphora in Paris ‘HΟ ΛΥΔΟΣ ΕΓΡ[ΑΦ]ΣΕΝ’, ‘the Lydian painted it’.57 The second Lydos signed as a slave: ‘ΛΥΔὸΣ ἔΓΡΑΦΣΕΝ ΟΛΟΣΟΝΜΥΔΕΑΣΣΕΥΓΕ[...]Ο.’, ‘Lydos has painted it, a slave from Myrina‘.58 That potters and painters could also be Athenian citizens is attested by well-known vases with signatures with patronymic. Tleson signed as the son of Nearchos,59 a potter who signed a kantharos,60 and aryballos,61 and several Little Master Cups.62 The red-figure potter Nikias incised his signature, ‘NΙΚΙΑΣ ΕΡΜΟΚΛΕΟΥΣ ΑΝΑΦΛΥΣΤΙΟΣ ΕΠΟΙΕΣΕΝ’ in the formal democratic way, citing his father’s name and the deme in which he was registered as a citizen.63

Little Master Band Cup signed ‘ΘΡΑΙΧΣ ΕΠΟΙΕΣΕΝ’,66 ‘Thrax made it’. The Kerameikos was also home to one or two artists signing their name as ‘Skythes’.67 It is not possible to discern whether these men with ethnic appellations were slaves, resident foreigners in Athens, or even Athenian citizens.68 Skythes occurs as the name of a slave on a late fifth century list of ship crews.69 Kriton, son of Skythes, dedicated a marble stele on the Athenian Acropolis signed by the sculptor Pollias70 in the late sixth century. All three may be connected with the potters’ world. Skythes signed four red-figure cups as painter. Kriton is the name of a potter inscribed on a reserved panel of a black-bodied olpe dated around 520 in Warsaw: ‘ΚΡΙΤΟΝ ΕΠΟΙΕΣΕΝ : ΛΕΠΟΣΥΣ’.71 The sculptor of the stele, Pollias, was the father of Euthymides, who signed a psykter in Turin.72 ‘Ευθυμιδες εγραφσενhο Πολ[λ]ιο’, and an amphora in Munich ‘ΕΥΘΥΜΙΔΕΣ ΕΓΡΑΦΣΕΝ hΟ ΠΟΛ[Λ]ΙΟ’ and ‘ΕΥΘΥΜΙΔΕΣ: hΟ ΠΟΛ[Λ]ΙΟ’.73 Pollias may have commissioned his son to make a white ground plaque showing the goddess Athena, which he dedicated on the Athenian Acropolis.74 Skythes’ name does not only appear as part of his signature, but was also borrowed by his contemporaries to name figures. A black-figure kyathos in Cambridge assigned to the Philon Painter75 is decorated with three pairs of fighting warriors. The fourth is named ΣΜΙΚΥΘΟΣ, the sixth ΣΚΥΘΕΣ. If we judge people by the company they keep, Smikythos should be connected with the Athenian potters’ quarter. Phintias was aware of him, since he named four males in a music lesson on his hydria in Munich76 [Δ]ΕΜΕΤΡΙΟΣ, ΕΥΤΥΜΙΔΕΣ, ΤΛΕΜΠ̣ΟΛΕΜΟΣ, and ΣΜΙΚΥΘΟΣ. Demetrios cannot be connected with any known individual in Athens. Euthymides should be Phintias’ fellow red-figure Pioneer. Tlempolemos, a rare name, is that of a potter of three signed Little Master cups,77 who was also deemed kalos by the painter of a red-figure cup in Orvieto.78 Two inscriptions from the Athenian Acropolis mention Smikythos. A marble capital dedicated in the early 5th century is inscribed: ‘B ΘΕO[ΔΟ] ΡΟΣ : AΝ[EΘΕΚΕΝ : ὈΝ]Ε̣ΣίΜΟ : h[ΥΙOΣ]. A ὈΝEΣΙΜΟΣ : Μ’ AΝEΘΕΚΕΝ : AΠΑΡΧὲΝ ΤAΘΕΝΑίΑΙ : HΟ ΣΜΙΚYΘΟ HΥΙOΣ,79 a dedication by Theodoros, the son of Onesimos, and Onesimos, the son of Smikythos. A slightly later marble louterion bears the inscription [ὈΝEΣΙ]ΜΟΣ : A[ΝEΘΕΚ]ΕΝ : AΠΑ[ΡΧEΝ :] O ΣΜΙΚ[YΘΟ : ΤAΘΕ]ΝΑI[ΑΙ].80 An Onesimos signed a red-figure

Double rays above the feet of some of Lydos’ amphorae64 are seen as an ‘eastern’ element, which was also used by the Amasis Painter, who regularly worked for the potter Amasis and may have been the same man. Sir John Boardman has shown that Amasis, his name is the Greek version of the Egyptian name Ahmose, probably hailed from Egypt, and may have been black, since Exekias named an Ethiopian soldier with club and pelta ‘Amasos’.65 A potter from Thrace had a Rome, Mus. Naz. Etrusco di Villa Giulia, 22679, CVA Roma, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia 1, III.C.E.1, pls. 1-4; Mugione, E. and Benincasa, A. (eds.), L’Olpe Chigi, Storia di un agalma, Atti del Convegno Internazionale, Salerno, 3-4 giugno 2010 (Salerno, 2012). 56  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 1.607, CAVI 975; ABV 107.1, 684. 57  Paris, Louvre, F 29, CAVI 6283; ABV 109.21, 685. 58  Kyathos, Rome, Villa Giulia, 84466, CAVI 7257; BAdd 400. 59  Toledo, Museum of Art, 58.70, Para 71.1bis; CAVI 7703; CVA Toledo, Toledo Museum of Art 1, 23-24, pls. 34.1-2, 35.1. 60  Athens, National Museum, 15155, ABV 82.1; CAVI 976; Boardman, J., The history of Greek vases: potters, painters and pictures (London, 2001) 55, fig. 65. 61  New York, Metropolitan Museum, 26.49, ABV 83.4, 682; Boardman, J., The history of Greek vases: potters, painters and pictures (London, 2001) 55, fig .66.1-2. 62  Ostermundigen, Blatter, Attic Script, no. 96; Jucker, H., ‘Herakles und Atlas auf einer Schale des Nearchos in Bern, Krug., A. (ed.), Festschrift für Frank Brommer (Mainz, 1977) 191-99, pls. 53-55. 63  London, British Museum, 1898.7-16.6, ARV2 13331; CAVI 4702; Boardman, J., Athenian Red Figure Vases, The Classical Period (London, 1989), fig. 319. 64  Lydos: London, British Museum: 1848.6-19.5, ABV 109.29; Boardman, ABFV, fig. 66. Basel, Antikenmuseum und Sammlung Ludwig, Kä 420, Para 65. Amasis Painter: Würzburg, Universität, Martin von Wagner Mus., L 282, ABV 151.22; Boardman, ABFV, fig. 88. Paris, Cabinet des Medailles, 222, ABV 152.25; Boardman, ABFV, fig. 85. 65  Boardman, J., ‘Amasis, the implications of his name’, Papers on the Amasis Painter and His World (Malibu, 1987) 141-152. The name occurs on the amphora Philadelphia, University of Pennsylvania, 3442, ABV 145.14; Boardman, J., ‘Amasis, the implications of his name’, Papers on the Amasis Painter and His World (Malibu, 1987) 150, fig. 7. 55 

Taranto, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, 6222, CAVI 7605; ABV 178. Red-figure cup painter, Villa Giulia, 20760, CAVI 7146; ARV2 83.14; Boardman, ARFVA, figs. 90.1-2. A black-figure plaque was perhaps decorated by a second artist of that name working at the same time, Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 1.2556, ABV 352; CAVI 1187. 68  Boardman, ABFV, 12. 69  IG I³ 1032 line 127. 70  IG I³ 658. 71  Warsaw, National Museum, once Goluchow, Czartorski, 98, CVA Goluchow, Musee Czartoryski, 17, pl. 16.2; ABV 446.2; CAVI 7988. 72  Turin, Museo di Antichita, 4123, ARV2 28.11, 1620; CAVI 7810. 73  Munich, Antikensammlungen, 8731, ARV2 26.1, 1620; CAVI 5258. 74  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 1.2590 and Oxford, Ashmolean Museum 1927.4602, ARV2 1598; Boardman, J., JHS 76 (1956) pls. 1.2, 2.1; Boardman, J., ARFVA, fig. 52; CAVI 1200. 75  Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, GR 22.1904, ABV 516.1; CAVI 3031. 76  Munich, Antikensammlungen, 2421, ARV2 23.7, 1620; CAVI 5285; FR pl. 71. 77  Berlin, Antikensammlung, 3152, ABV 171.13, 178.2. Berlin, Antikensammlung, F 1763, ABV 178.1. Basel, Borowski, Para 74.3; ARV2 1611. 78  Orvieto, Museo Civico, ARV2 1699; CAVI 5801; Brenne, Indices, 45, 53. 79  IG I³ 699. 80  IG I³ 931; Keesling, ‘Patrons of Athenian votive monuments of the Archaic and Classical periods: Three Studies’, Hesperia 74 (2005) 39566  67 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

cup in the Louvre.81 Theodoros was also known to vasepainters; the Epeleios Painter wrote ‘ΘΕΟΔΟΡΟΣ ΚΑΛΟΣ’ on two of his cups.82

of a black-figure Nikosthenic pyxis incised the inscription ‘Nikosthenes kalos’95 on a platform with musicians, and an unnamed painter wrote ‘hο Μυς καλ̣ος δοκει, ναι’ and nonsense inscriptions in the spaces between blacksmiths working at a forge.96 Mys, who probably came from Mysia, signed a lekythos in Athens as painter97 Smikros portrayed himself in a symposium on a stamnos in Brussels98 and was also shown at a feast by his colleague Euphronios.99 A fellow Pioneer inscribed ‘Σμικρος καλος’ next to two naked women washing at a laver on a hydria in Berlin.100 All three vases bear numerous further inscriptions. As a Pioneer, Smikros was once thought to have been worthy of appearing in an aristocratic context, while the presence of a potter at a symposium has more recently been regarded as a joke. However, the name was common. Men named Smikros made dedications on the Athenian Acropolis101 and the name occurs on at least two annual lists of fallen warriors.102 It is therefore probable that Smikros and his colleagues thought of the painter when inscribing the name, while drinking aristocrats would probably identify the name with their aristocratic acquaintances. Smikros is not the only named person on the Brussels stamnos, the painter also added the names of Antias and Eualkides as kaloi, and Euelthon, Euarchos, Automenes, and Pheidiades without the epithet kalos. Euarchos may be a fellow potter, his ‘signature’ Ευαρχο[ς επ]οιεσεν survives on a black-figure cup in Florence.103 An Euarchos made a dedication on the Acropolis around 480/470,104 and the Ambrosios Painter used the name for a komast around 500 on a cup in Munich.

Occasionally, names disappear. A chous in Oxford showing a satyr attacking a sleeping maenad by the Codrus Painter83 was recently examined by Nuala Marshall, a CAAH undergraduate, who noted the complete absence of two well attested inscriptions. When Percy Gardner published the vase in 1905, he stated: ‘above [the nymph] is the inscription TPAΓOIDIA’ omitting any mention of further names, as did G. Nicole’s drawing published in 1908.84 Beazley also noted the name Tragoidia in 1918.85 In 1923, he observed: ‘the maenad is named TPAΓOIDIA, the silen, in almost imperceptible letters, KIΣΣΟΣ’.86 Later publications followed Beazley.87 Kissos occurs twice as a satyr and once as an athlete on cups assigned to the Eretria Painter.88 A chous in Florence and Leipzig portrays Kissos in the company of the maenad Tragoidia.89 The lack of even a shadow of the inscriptions on the Oxford chous suggests strongly that the names were added after the vase was fired. Beautiful Men and Beautiful Banausoi Vase-painters named men and – far less frequently – women as beautiful from about 550 when members of Group E praised Stesias, otherwise completely unknown, as kalos.90 W. Klein was the first to suggest that these names are homoerotic praise of fashionable young aristocrats, who had caught the attention of older eupatrids and that vase-painters named the beau of the moment to attract buyers.91 However, a fair number of these beautiful boys appear to be potters and vasepainters.92 The Ambrosios Painter praised the beauty Tleson.93 The Taleides Painter wrote ‘Aνδοκιδες κα[λ]oς δοκει Τιμα[γ] oρα’ on a black-figure hydria in the Louvre,94 the painter

Megakles the Potter or Artists Lost and Found The same may be true of Megakles, a name with impeccable aristocratic credentials and given to sons of the clan of the Alkmaionidae. Vase scholars distinguish two men of that name, Megakles, the son of Hippokritos and an unknown Megakles deemed beautiful on a bell-krater attributed to the Orestes Painter105 and a stamnos assigned to the Kleophon Painter106 around 440. Megakles, the son of Hippokritos, is thought to be named kalos on a hydria signed by Phintias107 and on a white ground plaque from the Athenian Acropolis.108

426. 81  Paris, Louvre, G 105, ARV2 324.60, 1645, 1579, 1595. 82  Munich, Antikensammlungen, 2619A, ARV2 146.2, 1610, 1575.2, 1576.1, 1587.1, 1628. Bryn Mawr (PA), Bryn Mawr College, P 96, ARV2 147.18, 1610; Brenne, Indices, 44, 53. 83  Oxford, Ashmolean Museum, G 284 (V 534), ARV2 1258.1. 84  Gardner, P., ‘Vases added to the Ashmolean Museum’, JHS 25 (1905) 69-70, no. 534. Nicole, G., Meidias et le style fleuri (Geneva, 1908) 115. 85  Beazley, J.D., Attic Red-Figured Vases in American Museums (Cambridge, 1918) 179-180. 86  Beazley, J.D., CVA Oxford 1, 34, pls. 43.2, 39.3-4. 87  Eretria-Maler, 192, fig. 61B, pl. 195a, no. 211; CAVI 5918; Avramidou, A., The Codrus Painter, Iconography and reception of Athenian vases in the age of Pericles (Madison, 2011) 17. 88  Berlin, Antikensammlung, F 2532, Warsaw, National Museum, 142458, Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia, 3581, EretriaMaler, 25, fig. 4b, g right, 80, fig. 22a, 158, fig.51, pls. 26-27.31, 78, fig.21c, pls.57, 58e-f, no. 76, 25, fig. 4e (right), 32, fig. 6b, 45, fig. 11a, pl. 17, no. 22. 89  Florence, Museo Archeologico Etrusco, 22 B 324 and Leipzig, Antikenmuseum d. Universität Leipzig, T727, Eretria-Maler, pl. 142c, no. 230; CVA Oxford 1, 34; CVA Firenze, Regio Museo Archeologico 1, III.I.23, III.I.24, pl. 22.324; CAVI 3690. 90  E.g. black-figure amphora signed by Exekias as potter, Toledo, Museum of Art, 1980.1022, CVA Toledo, Toledo Museum of Art 2, 1011, pls. 81.1-2, 82.1-2, 83.1-2; CAVI 7712; Brenne, Indices, 44. 91  Klein, W., Die griechischen Vasen mit Lieblingsinschriften (Leipzig, 1890). 92  Scheibler, I., Der Neue Pauly, s.v. Kalos-Inschriften. 93  Brussels, Musees Royaux, R 349, ARV2 174.24; CAVI 2947; Brenne, Indices, 45. 94  Paris, Louvre, F 38, CAVI 6286; ABV 174.7, 664; CVA Paris, Louvre 6, III.HE.42, III.HE.43, pl. 62.1-4; BAPD 301126; Brenne, Indices, 34.

Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum, IV 1870, ABV 671; CAVI 7899; Brenne, Indices, 41. 96  London, BM, 1846.6-29.45, CAVI 4338; Chatzidimitriou, pl. 22.X2. 97  Athens, National Museum, 1626, ARV2 663; Kaltsas, N. (ed.), AthensSparta (New York, 2006) 235, no. 122; BAPD 207770; Brenne, Indices, 41. 98  Brussels, Musées Royaux, A 717, ARV2 20.1, 1619; CVA Brussels 2, III.I.C.6-III.I.C.7, pls. 12.1a-d, 13.1a.1b.1c; BAPD 200102. 99  Calyx-krater, Munich, Antikensammlungen, 9300+, ARV2 1619.3bis, 1705, 1699; CAVI 5363; BAPD 275007. 100  Berlin, Antikensammlung, 1966.20, Para 503; CAVI 2498; CVA Berlin, 9, 18-20, figs.2, 3, Beilage 1.3, pls. 4.1-5, 56.3; Brenne, Indices, 44. 101  IG I³ 646, a tanner. IG I³ 718. 102  IG I³ 1147; IG I³ 1144. 103  Florence, Museo Archeologico Etrusco, Prospettiva Rivista dell’ arti antica e moderna (Siena) 3 (1975) 45-47, figs. 1-7; BAPD 30407. 104  IG I³ 825. 105  Paris, Musee du Louvre, A 258, ARV2 1113.10, 1559; CAVI 6248; Davies, J.K., Athenian Propertied Families 600-300 B.C. (Oxford, 1971) 381, Megakles VI. 106  St. Petersburg, Hermitage, 2353; ARV2 1147.7, 1684, 1590, 1599; CAVI 7384. 107  London, BM, E 159; ARV2 24.9, 1620; CAVI 4512. 108  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 2.1037, ARV2 1598.5; CAVI 1463; Boardman, J., ‘Some Attic Fragments: Pot, Plaque, and Dithyramb’, JHS 76 (1956) 20-22; Boardman, J., ‘Painted Votive Plaques 95 


Thomas Mannack – The Good, the Bad, and the Misleading: A Network of Names on (Mainly) Athenian Vases

The plaque was originally inscribed ‘Μεγα[κ]λ[ε]ς καλος’, the inscription was later erased and repainted with ‘Γλαυ[κ]υτ[ε] ς καλος’ and Boardman proposed that the name was erased after the ostracism of Megakles in 486.109 Megakles is also deemed ‘kalos’ on a fragmentary cup from the Kerameikos which bears the inscription Μεγ[ακλες] καλο̣[ς] in added red paint; an incised graffito, ‘Mεγακ̣[λες] hιπ[π]οκρ[α]τος is proof that the fragment was used in the ostracism of the most famous Megakles.110 Megakles’ father had also come to the attention of Athenian painters, since he was regarded as the ‘most beautiful’ on a black-figure Little Master band cup in London, which bears the ‘signature’ ‘Γλαυκυτες εποιεσεν’ under one handle, and the inscription ‘Hιπ[π]οκριτος καλ[λ] ιστος’ under the other.111 Glaukytes, in turn, was thought to be kalos by the painter of a red-figure neck-amphora in Paris.112

Charisios, of a fourth name only ...]kles survives. A Charinos signed seven oinochoes and figure vases around the time of the dedication.121 The situation is complicated by the presence of a third Megakles in Athens. He dedicated a marble pillar on the Acropolis around 500/480. An inscription identifies him as Megakles, son of Euryptolemos, ‘[Μεγα]κλε[ς ἀνέθεκεν –] [hο Ε]ὐ̣ρυπ[τολέμο – ] ‘.122 Like Hippokritos, Eurytptolemos was known in the potters’ quarter and named kalos on three cups attributed to Apollodoros123 and a cup assigned to Makron.124 It is therefore not entirely certain, which Megakles is deemed beautiful or good by Athenian vase-painters. It is peculiar that on the plaque from the Athenian Acropolis125 the name of Megakles was not replaced with that of another aristocrat, but with the rather unusual name Glaukytes. In the potters’ world Glaukytes is only known as the maker of 3 signed Little Master cups,126 the Munich cup is curiously also signed for the poietes Archikles. If the plaque has no political meaning, Megakles on the Acropolis plaque may have been a potter too and the inscription was rewritten in the workshop when its ownership changed.127 A pyxis in Brussels attributed to the Pistoxenos Painter dated around 460 confirms that the aristocratic name Megakles was used by banausoi. An orthographically questionable signature on the body reads Μεκακλες εποιεσεν.128

Like most of the popular beaus, Megakles also lends his name to figures in vase paintings, which very often have impeccable aristocratic credentials. On a black-figure white ground lekythos in Toronto,113 Megakles is a young jumper practicing in the company of other youths named Spintharos, Dion, Pythis, and Olympiodoros. Most of these are unknown. Spintharos occurs only on this lekythos. Pythis is a beau on a black-figure hydria assigned to the Leagros Group dated around 510/500,114 and the name of a sculptor who carved a marble column on the Acropolis, Πῦθις ἐποίεσεν. Ἐπιτέλες ἀνέθεκεν : ἀπαρχὲν Ἀθεναίαι, at the same time.115 Olympiodoros is named kalos on a hydria in the Vatican, which also praises Leagros,116 on a red-figure loutrophoros dedicated on the Athenian Acropolis assigned to a Pioneer,117 and with Dorotheos and Kephisophon on a cup attributed to the Proto Panaitian Group.118 The painter of the cup added numerous names to his figures: Kleiboulos, Ambrosios, Antias, Batrachos, Phormos, Kleisophos, Eratosthenes, Epichares, Kleon, Timon, Euagoras, Phoinix, Antimachos, Euenor, and Asopokles. An Epichares is listed on an inscription dedicated on the Athenian Acropolis dated around 500/480119 as son of the donor, whose name is lost and may have been the father of an Alkimachos named on several vases assigned to the Achilles Painter.120 His siblings are Opholonides, Charinos, and

In 1981, Sir John Boardman and U. Gehrig removed Epiktetos II, until then the name of the Kleophrades Painter, from the list of known artists when they recognized that the signatures Επικτετος εγραφσεν on the neck on both sides of a pelike in Berlin are modern.129 However, the Kleophrades Painter was not denied a proper name for long. In 1997, D. Williams recognized that fragments of a red-figure skyphos in Leipzig, which Beazley thought to have perhaps been painted by the Kleophrades Painter, join unattributed fragments in Malibu.130 The obverse shows Achilles brought to Chiron, the reverse a scene from the Trojan War with Agamemnon, Briseis, and Athena. There are several inscriptions naming the figures, but also an incomplete dipinto naming Megakles, Μεγα[…] on the reverse. Beazley suggested a restoration as ‘Megakles

and an Early Inscription from Aegina’, BSA 49 (1954) 201, no. 8. 109  CAVI 1463; Boardman, J., ‘Painted Votive Plaques and an Early Inscription from Aegina’, BSA 49 (1954) 201, no. 8; Bothmer, D. v., Euphronios, der Maler (Berlin, 1991) 142. 110  CAVI 1763; Willemsen, F., ‘Verzeichnis der Karameikos-Ostraka’, AM 106 (1991) 137-145, pls. 26,1, 27,1-3, 28; Mann, C., Haake, M, Hoff, R. von den (eds.), Rollenbilder in der athenischen Demokratie, Medien, Gruppen, Räume im politischen und sozialen System, Beiträge zu einem interdisziplinaren Kolloquium in Freiburg i. Br., 24.-25. November 2006 (Wiesbaden, 2009) 153-155, figs. 1-4. 111  London, British Museum, 1857.8-5.1, CAVI 4301; ABV 163.1, 160.2, 667.1. 112  Paris, Musee du Louvre, CP 11187, CAVI 6612. 113  Toronto, Royal Ontario Museum, 963.59, CAVI 7731; ARV2 1699; CVA Toronto, Royal Ontario Museum, 22, pl. 27.15-18. 114  Chicago, Univ. of Chicago, D.& A. Smart Gallery, 1889.15, ABV 673; CAVI 3139. 115  IG I3 680. 116  Vatican City, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco Vaticano, 416, ABV 365.65, 695, 669.5, 671. 117  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 2.636, Pala, E., Acropoli di Atene, Un microcosmo della produzione e distribuzione della ceramica attica (Rome, 2012) 43, fig. 10; ARV2 1604. 118  Paris, Cabinet des Medailles, 523, ARV2 316.4, 1575, 1589, 1604; CAVI 6156. 119  IG I³ 696. 120  Cf. e.g. Boston, Museum of Fine Arts, 13.202, ARV2 1002.11, 1561;

CAVI 2786. 121  ARV2 1531; Kyle, D.G., Athletics in Ancient Athens (Leiden, 1993) A 24; Richter, G.M.A., Red-Figured Athenian Vases in the Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, 1936) 73 with note 10. 122  IG I³ 707. 123  Paris, Musée du Louvre, G 140, ARV2 120.1, 1580; CAVI 6481. 124  New York, Metropolitan Museum, 1979.11.8, Kunisch, N., Makron (Mainz, 1997) 67, fig. 30, pl. 79.236. 125  Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 2.1037, see n. 58. 126  London, British Museum, 1857.8-5.1, Munich, Antikensammlungen, 2243, Berlin, Antikensammlung, F 1761, ABV 163.1-2, 164.3, 667. 127  Bothmer, D.v., Euphronios der Maler. Katalog zur Ausstellung in der Sonderausstellungshalle der Staatlichen Museen Preußischer Kulturbesitz Berlin - Dahlem 20.3. - 26.5. 1991 (Berlin, 1991) 142. 128  Brussels, Bibliothèque Royale 9, ARV2 863.31, 1555; CAVI 2882. 129  Boardman, J. and Gehrig, U., ‘Epiktetos II, R.I.P.’, Anz (1981) 329-32, figs. 1-3. Pelike, Berlin, Antikensammlung, F 2170, ARV2 185.28, 1632; CAVI 2288; CVA Berlin, Antikensammlung 15- 17, figs. 1-3, Beilage 1.1, pls. 1-2. 130  Williams, D., Oakley, J.H. et al., Athenian Potters and Painters: The Conference Proceedings (Oxford, 1997) 197-199, figs. 2-4. Leipzig, Antikenmuseum der Universität Leipzig, T 3840a-c; ARV2 193, 1598.4; Malibu, J. Paul Getty Museum, 86.AE.270.1-3; CAVI 4183; LIMC Supplementum I, pl. 7 Achilleus Add 6.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

kalos’. Since the Kleophrades Painter did not have any favourites, Williams proposed that the name could be part of a painter’s signature. There are admittedly a number of Greek names beginning with ‘Mega’,131 but only two of these occur on Greek vases. The painter of a band cup from the Athenian Acropolis named a giant ‘Megarides’132 and a painter in the Group of Polygnotos wrote ‘Megareus’ next to a warrior in an amazonomachy on a red-figure dinos in London.133 It is therefore statistically likely that the Kleophrades Painter wrote ‘Megakles’.

the figures’ names, ‘the first inscription is nonsense, but both pretend to be the squires’ names’.145 It appears that vase-painters used signatures and names for a variety of reasons, often as an additional and erudite layer of decoration, and that their attitude to names could be lighthearted and insincere to downright dishonest. Three vasepainters claimed to be called Polygnotos to appropriate the fame of the far more eminent wall and panel painter. Modern forgery added a second Epiktetos, and perhaps names such as Kissos and Tragoidia in order to enhance the value of vases.

The Reliability of Signatures or What is in a Name?

Signatures appeared around 700 and the names of potters and painters adorned Little Master cups as decorations in their own right, and were part of numerous other inscriptions on prestigious pots such as Exekias’ amphora in the Vatican with Ajax and Achilles playing, probably added in the hope of attracting overseas buyers. When searching for names, the painter’s mind often did not stray far from his immediate surroundings: Euphronios used Euthymides as the love interest of a hetaira; artisans donated their works to the gods; potters and painters represented themselves and others in aristocratic symposia; elevated each other to noble beaus, and Exekias used his colleague’s name and even entire signature to name African archers.

There was apparently no protection of names in ancient Athens. Best known is the example of Polygnotos. The name was uncommon in Athens134 and does not seem to occur on the preserved annual lists of the fallen; a son of a Polygnotos made a marble dedication on the Athenian Acropolis in the early 5th century.135 However, when Polygnotos of Thasos became famous in the Classical Period, three Athenian vasepainters signed with that name, Polygnotos,136 the Nausicaa Painter,137 and the Lewis Painter.138 Unknown painters have been accused of falsely claiming that the great Exekias shaped their five surviving Little Master cups with painted signatures.139 The handwriting on these cups is not that of Exekias,140 but since painters frequently signed for potters the case will probably remain unsolved.

Bibliography Immerwahr, H. 1990. Attic Script. Oxford. Boardman, J. 1998. Early Greek Vase Painting, 11th-6th Centuries BC. London. Brenne, S. 2000. ‘Indices zu Kalos-Namen’, Tyche 15: 31-53. Lezzi-Hafter, A. 1998. Der Eretria-Maler, Werke und Weggefährten. Mainz. Hurwit, J.M. 2015. Artists and Signatures in Ancient Greece. Cambridge. Klein, W. 1898. Die griechischen Vasen mit Lieblingsinschriften. Leipzig. Shapiro, H.A. 1987. ‘Kalos-Inscriptions with Patronymic’, ZPE 68: 107-118. Wernicke, K. 1890. Die griechischen Vasen mit Lieblingsnamen. Eine archäologische Studie. Leipzig.

Exekias did not take signatures too seriously. He was not content with using his colleagues’ name, Amasis, to name figures, but even purloined his entire signature to name two Ethiopian squires Α̣ ΟΙΗΣN and AMAΣOΣ on a neck-amphora now in the British Museum.141 The Apparent signature has led to some confusion. Reinach doubted that the signature is that of Amasis.142 H.B. Walters assigned the vase to Amasis, but also doubted the inscription.143 Beazley attributed the neck-amphora firmly to Exekias.144 However, the inscriptions are intended as Amasis epoiesen, but clearly positioned as

CAVI 4183. Athens, National Museum, Acropolis Coll., 1.1632, CAVI 1077; Graef, B. & Langlotz, E., Die antiken Vasen von der Akropolis zu Athen, vol.1 (Berlin, 1925) pl. 84. 133  London, British Museum; 1899.7-21.5, ARV2 1052.29; CAVI 4706; Matheson, S.B., Polygnotos and Vase Painting in Classical Athens (Madison, 1995) 165-168, pls. 143a-d. 134  LGPN II, 371, s.v. Πολυγνωτος. 135  IG I3 725. 136  Brussels, Musees Royaux A 134, ARV2 1027.1. 137  London, British Museum, 1846.0128.1, ARV2 1107.7. 138  University, University of Mississippi, University Museums, 1977.3.104, ARV2 972, 974.26, 1676. 139  See Hurwit, Signatures, 82. Lip Cup, Athens, National Museum, 1104, CVA Athens, Musee National 3, 38-39, Beilage 11.4, pl. 30.1-4; CAVI 741. Lip Cup, once Basel, Market, Münzen und Medaillen A.G., Para 61; CAVI 2106. 140  Attic Script, nos. 146-150. 141  London, British Museum, 1849.0518.10, ABV 144.8, 686; CAVI 4256; CVA London, British Museum 4, IIIHe.4, pl. 49.1a-c; Eschbach, N. and Schmidt, S. (eds.), Töpfer, Maler, Werkstatt. Zuschreibungen in der griechischen Vasenmalerei und die Organisation antiker Keramikproduktion (Munich, 2016) 88, figs. 1a-b; Attic Script, 33, no. 134, 35. 142  Reinach, S., Repetoire des Vases Peints, Grecs et Etrusques (Paris, 1922) II, 105. 143  CVA London, British Museum 4, IIIHe.4. 144  ABV 144.8, 686. 131  132 



CAVI 4256.

Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars Claudia Wagner Gems were not John’s first love of the objects available to study in Greece. In his youth it looked as if bigger objects would have captured his heart: in a photo taken in his early days in Greece we see him getting close to one of the lions in Delos (Figure 1). The ability to get close to the objects you study is probably what fascinated John most about the gems: objects artistically even more intricate, iconographically challenging, and full of intrinsic information about their makers and users than most sculpture could offer the archaeologist. No wonder that his research interest in the class of objects has been long and varied indeed. Studying gems for a long time means that John has looked closely not just at the objects themselves but at a variety of collectors who have amassed them. Collectors come from wide range of social backgrounds, they span from the royal and aristocratic, to the scholarly and academic, and the accidental collector. John has produced groundbreaking studies of Greek gems of all periods, from the Island Gems to the masterly Greek Gems and Fingerrings,1 and soon his interests would cover research into other types, such as Phoenician and Greco-Persian gems.2 Public collections were keen (more or less) to have their gems studied, photographed, and in these more relaxed times John was allowed to make impressions: in plasticine and silicone. Both types of moulds could then be cast in plaster or latex (supported by strips of toilet paper). There is an art to taking an impression, and some of the materials we still use go back to John’s early days of gem study. The tin of Johnson’s baby powder from the 1960s is still almost half full. The easiest method of making an impression is with plasticine: the same brand used by the makers of the ‘Wallace and Gromit’ films and ‘Shaun the Sheep’ is also our favourite. Formed into a ball it is first pressed into a round flat shape, about half a centimetre in height. John used to do this on a small slab of marble, but I have found that silicon baking paper on a smooth surface works just as well and is more portable. Sheets of silicon paper also prevent the finished impressions from sticking to each other when stacked. A very light dusting of the plasticine prevents the intaglio from sticking to the fine details of the engraving. Make sure you are not using the side you have squeezed with your fingers or you will find your fingerprints superimposed on the image. Huffing on the cold stone is also one of the methods to make sure the gem will come away from the plasticine cleanly.3 The benefits of the moisture on the intaglio is probably what Ovid,4 the poet, refers to in the love poem in which the lover dreams he could be his beloved’s seal, touched by her lips in preparation to the sealing. Ovid possibly imagines the beloved not just huffing but licking the intaglio on her ring.

Figure 1. Sir John on Delos. The impression shows a piece of ancient art as intended by the artist without the need for mediation by another artist, as in a drawing. It is often easier to compare style and iconography from impressions rather than the original – that is the reason why we still make and value impressions today. John’s research soon put him on the map as the British expert in the field and private collectors and dealers asked for his advice and invited him to study their gems. One of his first close involvements with collectors was with the Ionides family in London, who were about sell off their gems.5 He was later also involved at the sale of the Wellington collection and the Harari gems.6 The Pappalardo collection would prove to be a special case: after John published the Swiss collection in 1970 the collector decided to sell off his first collection of gems, only to continue his collecting.7 His son asked John to catalogue the sizeable new collection - publishing the encore was my first collaboration with John. It comes as no surprise that the young John was recruited by Antony Blunt, not as a fellow spy, but when it came to assigning the task of tackling

Boardman1963; Boardman 1970/2001. Boardman 2003; Boardman, J. 1970/2001. 3  For the practise used in Antiquity see also Juvenal sat.1.67; Ovid, trist. 5.5. 4  Ovid Amores, 2.15 1  2 

Boardman 1968b. Wellington: Boardman 1977; Harari: Boardman 1976. 7  Boardman 1975; Wagner et alli 2003; Wagner et alli 2009. 5  6 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

the Royal collection of gems.8 On this project he collaborated with Kirsten Ashengreen Piacenti. He has inspired his students and colleagues, from Martin Henig, who has become the undisputed expert on gems from Roman Britain, to Dimitris Plantzos, who tackled the Hellenistic gems, and Gertrud Seidmann, who became an expert on neo-classical gems and in particular the great British engravers, Nathanial Marchant and Edward Burch. The finest gems are not only evidence of the tastes and collecting habits of one person but often have a collection history going back through other famous collectors. Gems and their devices appear in literary sources, they are listed, in inventories, as inheritance or even pawned. Their small size makes them ideal to be taken on journeys. But where did it all start?

Figure 2. Plaster impression by John Beazley: A youth restrains a horse, Inscribed ‘Epimenes made [me]’. Original: chalcedony scaraboid from the Nile Delta (Naucratis?), ca. 500 B.C. (MfA, Boston 27.677. Beazley Archive, Oxford University. Photo: C. Wagner).

Probably the earliest evidence of collecting in Greece comes from Bronze age burials: such as the beehive tomb in Vafio five miles south of  Sparta. It contained 41 gems and two rings. The styles represented date the items to at least half a century of the engraver’s art (from around 1500-1450 BC (LH II)). Several are distinctly Minoan in style and must have been imported from Crete, while the majority probably comes from local mainland workshops.9 Was the person interred in the Vafio tomb a collector of gems? Together with the amazing grave goods made from precious materials assembled here, in particular the fabulous gold cups, the engraved stones are probably more appropriately seen as treasure, not specifically collected for the beauty of their artistry or their varied iconography, but for their value as luxury goods.10 And, of course, in all periods some collectors of gems were primarily interested in the value of the items. Signatures of engravers on the gems give evidence of the esteem in which these masters held their own art, which surely must reflect the interest of their customers. Signatures, however, were not common and the quality of many of the unsigned pieces is equal and surpassing that of the signed ones. The engraver Epimenes signs his name on a scaraboid found in the Nile Delta (Figure 2).11 The name is in mirror image: when used as seal it appears the right way on the sealing. Epimenes has not signed all his gems: his style is distinctive and we can with great certainty attribute other gems to him. Gem engravers continue to sign their works, as the most significant engraver of the Classical period: Dexamenos. He signs his name on four gems, depicting very varied subjects. All of his gems are unrivalled in technique and accomplishment (Figure 3). On a light blue chalcedony he proudly adds his place of origin, the island of Chios, to his signature. The device depicted on the scaraboid is a flying heron. The composition of the bird and the inscription are composed perfectly in the field. The delicate patterns of the differently textured feathers of the wings and the body are rendered with great mastery.

Figure 3. Electrotype by Nevil Story Maskelyne. A flying heron. Signed  Dexamenos epoie Chios. Original: blue chalcedony scaraboid, from Kerch (Crimea). c. 450–430 BC (St Petersburg, Hermitage Museum inv. Ju O. 24. Beazley Archive, Oxford University. Photo: C. Wagner). How much engravers were respected for producing their works of highly individual art in the Hellenistic period becomes apparent when we see their names transmitted in literature and their art praised in poems.12 Pyrgoteles is named as gem-cutter favoured by Alexander the Great. Royal patronage of engravers at Hellenistic courts is continuing throughout the period. Signatures are more common at the beginning of the period and special commissions from artists. Nikandros, for example, signs an intaglio with a portrait of Berenike II, a garnet.13 The poet Posidippos14 was a contemporary: her name, that of her father Ptolemy II, and Arsinoe II feature in is writing. In his over 100 epigrams a series on stones, the Lithika, 15 poems have

Aschengreen Piacenti et alli 2008. Zwierlein-Diehl 2007: 25 and pl. 38. 10  Zwierlein-Diehl 2007: 25. 11  Boston, Museum of Fine Arts inv. 27.677; height 17 mm. Beazley (ed. Boardman.) 2003: no. 28. Boardman 1968b: no. 246.

Zwierlein-Diehl 2007: 1-2. Baltimore, Walters Art Gallery inv. 42.1339, Plantzos 1999: 30. Garnet, height 20 mm, convex face. 14  In particular on the Lithika of Posidippos see most recently Christensen 2012.






Claudia Wagner – Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars

Figure 4. Clay sealing, head of Helios (Beazley Archive, Oxford University. Photo: C. Wagner). as subject engraved gems. In the various epigrams Posidippos gives voice to his admiration for the engraver’s technique in carving the hard stone, the miniature world captured on the stones, and the effect of seeing the intaglio image in relief even though it is incised into the stone. The optical illusion is also apparent in the photograph: as soon as our eyes recognize the image experience overrides the sensory reality and we all see the image in the way nature usually presents it, as a body with volume, not the negative space created by the engraver. Another characteristic of looking at gems is reported by Galen, the physician of the 2nd century AD. He reports in De usu partititum15 studying a gem engraved with Phaeton on a quadriga: at first he can’t make out the fine details and only when he turns the gem into the light at the right angle suddenly the bridle and even the front teeth of the horses become evident. Of course even when we photograph gems we make use of this ‘sweet spot’ when we tilt the gem until the polished surface is reflecting the light in just the right way, like a mirror, and the engraving suddenly becomes more visible.

dedication, as we can see from surviving inventory lists of the Athenian Acropolis and the sanctuaries at Delos. Dedications usually seem to have been given on an individual basis, not as complete collections, and Julius Caesar is named as the earliest reported collector, who deposited his gem collection, six cabinets, in the temple of Venus Genetrix. Of all ancient authors it is Pliny the Elder who is our most detailed source of knowledge on gemstones, engraved gems and gem engravers, dedicating his two last books of his Naturalis Historia to the subject. Not because the topic is in his eyes the least significant, but rather in the spirit of saving the best for last. He is, at least in parts, basing his text on much older sources, such as Theophrastos of Lesbos, a student of Aristotle. Pliny and other authors writing about gems are not only concerned about artists, iconography and style, they are also deeply interested in magical properties,17 and in particular the physician Dioskourides in the 1st century AD, with healing characteristic of stones and devices. Pliny is rather sketchy in his attribution of findplaces of gems, something that is treated in more detail by other authors, for example by the geographer Strabo.18

Literary sources name as the earliest committed collector of gems Mithridates VI (134–63 BC). After his defeat his cabinet of gems was dedicated by Pompey in the Capitoline Temple in Rome. Pliny blames the newly found passion for the luxury art of gem engraving in Rome on the arrival of the treasures from the East. Not only new gems were desired by collectors: old gems were apparently still in circulation and these must have been mainly collector’s items. In Pompeii a Classical scaraboid found in the excavations shows how gems of great Antiquity were treasured by a wealthy society, keen on copying statues from the same period for the display in their gardens and houses.16 Gems were considered appropriate votive offerings to the gods for a long time before Pompey’s 15  16 

Would he have access to images? After all, the primary function of intaglios is to be used as a seal, and it can be impressed without causing any damage (Figure 4). Sealings of clay have indeed survived, as the head of Helios. The piece of clay was attached to a papyrus, as the markings in the clay under the sealing show. Its survival is most likely accidental, often caused by a fire in an archive, public or private, as in the House of the Seals on Delos, where probably the sealings attached to the owner’s correspondence, contracts and other paperwork were accidently fired when his house went up in flames.

Galen, De usu partititum: 17.1.2, 448. 13-20. Pannuti. 1983: no.120, showing a griffin as device.

17  18 


E.g. ‘Orphic’ poem ‘Peri Lithika’. Zwierlein-Diehl 2007: 3.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 5. Striped glass ringstone, green/blue/white, 18 x 12 mm, Achilles supporting Penthesileia, 1st century B.C. (Private Collection. Photo: C. Wagner).

Figure 6. Amber coloured glass intaglio: Draped bust of Octavian in profile; c.32-c.29 BC, over the prow of a ship. Set in an ancient bronze ring, 11 x 8 mm, ring 23 x 22 mm. Photo: C. Wagner.

Seals were also reproduced in antiquity in glass. Figure 5 shows an example in lurid colours.19 Workshops employing this layered technique were particularly active in the second half of the 1st century BC/ first half of the 1st century AD, and they mainly chose gems of a slightly better than average quality as their models. Glass intaglios cast in the same mould have been found: Achilles supporting Penthesileia has a duplicate in Vienna.20 Often duplicates share faults in the mould. Casts taken from casts (the second generation) often reproduce many mistakes the engraver would not have made and which enter the chain of production as result of the problems in using hot glass. The cheaper glass versions are also used as an affordable carrier of propaganda. Octavian, before he acquired the title Augustus and the portrait features modern archaeologists classify as the Prima Porta type, was rather proud of his naval victories. An intaglio in Oxford (Figure 6) is showing the image of the young Octavian over the prow of a boat. The quality of the ring and the engraving is in stark contrast to the much more elaborately engraved images of the Emperor Augustus, such as the one on the Lothair cross (Figure 7). Gems showing Imperial symbols, including an unusually large number of Capricorn, star sign of Augustus, appear with surprising frequency among the glass gems. The presence of the glass gems, which must have been substantially cheaper, than even the gems engraved with very sketchy, low quality devices, which have also survived in large number, shows how owning a seal became an important feature in almost all classes of society. Pliny blames the newly found passion for the luxury art of gem engraving in Rome on the arrival of the treasures from the East. Old gems had still been in

Figure 7. Augustus cameo, Lothair Cross, Aachen. Photo: G. Schmidt. circulation and these probably were mainly collector’s items. It comes as no surprise that in Pompeii a Classical scaraboid found in the excavations shows how gems of great Antiquity were treasured by a wealthy society, keen on copying statues from the same period for the display in their gardens and houses.21

Boardman 2018: 14, no.102 (also for further bibliography about the class). 20  Zwierlein-Diehl 1979: 2, no. 670 19 



Pannuti 1983: no.120.

Claudia Wagner – Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars

Figure 8. ‘Scipio Ring,’ Sard intaglio, set in an ancient gold ring, 11 x 9mm, ring 25 x 20mm. Duke of Northumberland, Alnwick Castle. Photo: C. Wagner. The most common material used for sealing in Antiquity must have been wax. Unfortunately it is not a very durable material, but light. In the many instances in which ancient authors report the techniques of how a seal can be broken and replaced surreptitiously, the seal appears to have been a wax seal. In particular the 2nd AD satirist Lucian examines in great detail the methods employed by the new cult of Glycon in Abonoteichos,22 in which the oracle was consulted by submitting a sealed question, which was miraculously answered, apparently without breaking the seal. Alexandros, founder of the cult, is accused by Lucian to have used a hot needle to carefully remove the seals, he then reattached, giving the believers the impression second sight and not trickery allowed the oracle to give a correct answer to their question.

The impressions, however, are not our only record. The gems Henry bought had originally been collected by Abraham Goorle of Antwerp, who classicised his name as Abrahamus Gorlaeus. He had his intaglios set in simple presentation rings for display in his dactyliotheca, his collection of finger rings, and his publication of 1609 is regarded as the first comprehensive catalogues of a gem cabinet, a monument he set to himself and his collection.24 But where had Gorlaeus’ gems come from? Some gems had been lost in Antiquity. The glue sticking the intaglio into a metal mount was made of organic material, often not very secure and in particular in hot steamy environments, such as the baths, many came unstuck only to end up in the drains. Fieldwalking near Roman sites can be a rewarding enterprise for the dedicated collector. Jochanan Hendler and his son Shay have gathered an impressive collection of over 500 objects, gems, finger rings and seal boxes, from  Caesarea  Maritima, on their walks between 1950 and 1970,25 dating from the 2nd century BC to the 13th century AD.

Scholars of gems whose materials have survived show how useful wax seals are in the study of gem cabinets. Elias Ashmole made a set from the collection of Prince Henry, brother of Charles I, now kept in the Bodleian Libary.23 With the exception of one gem, given by Henry to his friend Lord Arundel, the collection went to Charles and disappeared after his execution without a trace. Arundel’s ring, now in Belvoir Castle, and these wax impressions which have survived in the Bodleian Library in Oxford are record of the lost ‘King’s cabinet’.

In antiquity some owners of gems and finger rings had their treasures placed in graves (Figure 8). This gold ring with an intaglio showing Victory is known as Scipio ring. The Vatican antiquary, Visconti, found it in the family grave of the Scipios, and connected the find with their most illustrious ancestor, Lucius Cornelius Scipio Barbatus, consul and patrician officer who defeated the Etruscans in 298 BC and died in 280. His

Lucian, Alexander the False Prophet: 20. See also Chaniotis 2004: 10. Elias Ashmole’s (1617–1692) set of wax impressions: from the collection of Prince Henry, Bodleian Library, Oxford: MS Ashmole 1138. Henig Appendix 2; in Aschengreen Piacenti et alli 2008: 268-281. 22  23 

24  25 


Wagner et alli 2009: 10, fig.8-11. Amorai-Stark et alli 2016.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 9. Philoctetes fanning his wounded leg. Sardonyx cameo, 20 x 16mm. 2nd century BC. Electrotype by Nevil Story Maskelyne, Engraving by Vico of the gem in the Grimani Collection. Photo: C. Wagner. sarcophagus is now in the Vatican Museum. Unfortunately the ring dates to the early 1st century AD and must have belonged to one of the later members of family (if indeed it has anything at all to do with the Scipios). The ring had been given to the Duke of Northumberland’s tutor, Dutens by Pope Pius VI, and in his turn Dutens gave the ring to his pupil and friend, where it is still in the collection, kept in Alnwick castle.26

father Lorenzo, when he had to flee Florence in 1494.27 He lost one of them, a great chalcedony, showing Diomedes with the palladion, leaping over the altar of the Trojan’s sanctuary of Athena. The cameo may be lost but luckily impressions had been made. The rebirth of interest in the Roman past went hand in hand with renewed scholarship, and scholars treasured the study of impressions of gems they could not afford to buy.

After the fall of the Roman Empire many Greek and Roman gems survived above ground, on through the Middle Ages. They were naturally prized as jewellery and there was no temptation, as with precious metals, to destroy them. They were reused to decorate pieces of religious furniture such as crosses, reliquaries and book bindings. The gems themselves carried scenes and figures of pagan gods and scenes. Some were misunderstood, re-interpreted, or just ignored. The pagan iconography incised on the colourful stones might have been recognized - intaglios in religious settings placed upside down might have been positioned in this fashion for that very reason. On the Lothair Cross Augustus appears on the glorious cameo in pride of place (Figure 7). The lesser gems make up the decorative scheme, roughly sorted by size and colour, their subjects without consequence.

Major architectural monuments celebrating imperial successes were excavated and preserved, sculpture and reliefs from a variety of contexts served as inspiration to new generations of artists reinterpreting scenes of classical myth on a wide variety of objects. Educated noblemen and artists were expected to have benefited from a classical education, and ancient literature became a further source of classical story-telling. Impressions in wax, sulphur, glass and plaster made ancient gems more widely accessible to scholars, collectors and artists. And engraved drawings, rare before the later 16th century, become more common: gem collectors saw catalogues of their cabinets increasingly as a way to win prestige, and even eventually as virtual sale catalogues. However, scholars were more and more aware that it is in impressions, that gems of the highest quality could be studied in detail. And at the beginning of the 18th century the assembly of impressions in large collections becomes a new phenomenon. Daniel Lippert’s (1702-85) Dactyliothek was bought by a wide section of society: Johann Wolfgang von Goethe owned a set to complement his small collection of gems. He had also bought red sulphur casts made by Christian Dehn in Rome. Rome would become a centre of the production of sets of impressions. Cades, Liberotti and the Paoletti family were not just relying on scholars but also targeted travellers on the Grand Tour with their casts. The tourists may not have been able to make their own collections of gems and coins, but a far simpler and cheaper way to have access to such art, and in numbers, was to purchase sets of casts and impressions from these manufacturers. Boxes were being produced in quantity in Italy in the later 18th and 19th centuries, often in book form, where the back and front would be lined with a catalogue of the contents, which were two pages, back-to-

The craft of gem engraving, however, was not forgotten and both intaglios and cameos were still being made, decorated with portraits, or a variety of sacred subjects. Early Renaissance noble families embraced the collection of ancient gems. In the 15th century the Pope Paul II (formerly Cardinal Pietro Barbo (1417–1471)) recorded them in an inventory: a voracious collector he acquired more than 800 engraved cameos and intaglios, listed by subject. His collection was sold and dispersed after his death and his gems were picked up by other personalities of 15th and 16th century Europe with resourceful collecting habits, such as the Medici of Florence, the Grimani of Venice, Isabella d’Este and the Gonzaga princes of Mantua. Dealers were facilitating their rich clients’ hunger for Antiquities, and often became owners of famous pieces at least for a time. Gems were highly prized and portable. Piero de Medici, decided to grab three of the family’s most famous gems, collected by his illustrious


Scarisbrick et alli 2017, no. 167.



Spier 2014: 68-69, and note 18.

Claudia Wagner – Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars

back, of plaster impressions. These would generally relate to a particular collection or subject, and there were many new gems being cut to remind collectors of the appearance of the famous works of major sculpture to be seen. Lippert, and all other manufacturers of impressions, were to be outdone by James Tassie. He developed a porcelain-like substance he called paste – a white glass, perfected the casting of glass and brittle but crisp impressions from red sulphur. No one could surpass him in the collection of moulds, his greatest coup was the substantial collection of casts amassed by the scholar and spy Baron von Stosch Tassie was able to buy from his estate. In 1791 he was able to publish a catalogue of nearly 16.000 gem impressions from which the public could choose their own selection. Catherine the Great of Russia had encouraged Tassie. The only complete collections of the Tassie casts ever commissioned are in St Petersburg, and the V&A, another set in Edinburgh (Tassie’s home), was given to the National Museums by his nephew William, who had taken over the business after James’ death. Catherine the Great was passionate about gems, her agents were active throughout Europe to buy what they could for her and some of the finest gems from famous collections, such as the Duc d’Orleans, were to go to the Hermitage. She invited some of the most illustrious contemporary engravers, such as Lorenz Natter and the Brown brothers to come to her court, and even her courtiers were encouraged to take up the art of gem cutting.

Figure 10. Head of Alexander in profile. Tourmaline intaglio, 25 x 25 mm, Ashmolean (1892.1499) G.J. Chester Bequest. Photo: C. Wagner. inscription is omitted.30 The electrotype demonstrates that in cameo carving the artist sometimes introduced nuances of relief detail on the translucent stone which are barely if at all visible to the naked eye, but are immediately clear in a solid opaque cast. Story Maskelyne produced a series of bright, utterly accurate copies of the original stones.

In the 19th century a major scandal shattered the confidence of gem collectors and scholars.

We are lucky that all the problems faced by collectors and scholars has not dented the enthusiasm of the many intrepid Oxford figures who have left a lasting legacy. From Pitt Rivers, whose gems are now in the Pitt Rivers Museum in Oxford,31 to the Rev. Chester Greville.32 Chesters donations and acquisitions range from the first seals from the Near East to reach the Ashmolean Museum to the big corpus of engraved gems, bequeathed to the Museum on his death. They include one of the most important and beautiful Hellenistic stones, now in the Ashmolean, a portrait of Alexander the Great with the horns of Ammon (Figure 10), published by Sir John: the first to spot the tiny inscription in Karoshti under the neck.33

Prince Stanislas Poniatowski (1754-1833),28 nephew and heir to the last King of Poland, was one of the great collectors of his generation. He built up a gem collection rumoured to be the most significant collection of classical gems. After his death the collection of about 2600 gems was reluctantly identified as entirely fake. The subjects illustrating Homer, Virgil and Ovid, and the most comprehensive corpus of Greek and Roman portraits were engraved by neo-classical engravers. Collectors, antiquarians and scholars reluctantly had to admit how difficult it had become to distinguish Ancient from neoclassical gems. The scandal was not the end of scholarship in the Glyptics. In the mid-nineteenth century an exciting new way of copying gems for study emerged- electrotyping. Nevil Story Maskelyne, an Oxford professor of mineralogy who had become obsessed with gems, used the method. He was trusted with gems from public and private collections. The letter on the right addresses the Duke of Northumberland, whom he helped in evaluating the collection. You can see the advantage of being able to study the gem in the electrotype rather than an engraving. Cardinal Grimani owned a spectacular Hellenistic cameo signed ‘by Boethos’: the signature is in the field, top left, in relief (Figure 10).29 Comparing the three versions of the cameo shows the dangers of having to rely on an artist’s translation of a gem: on Enea Vico’s engraving details to the animal skin on the ground are added and the important

28  29 

Among the important collectors and benefactor of the Ashmolean Sir Arthur Evans must be mentioned. A substantial part of his collection is now in Oxford. He not only bought Minoan gems but from his travels in Dalmatia many Roman gems entered the collection. We mustn’t forget Beazley himself: here is his Europa on the bull (Figure 11), graciously donated to the Ashmolean collection. And even Sir John himself became an accidental collector. He published together with Diana the Ralph Harari collection in 1976. As reward he was asked to choose one of the gems, and to everyone’s surprise he chose this blue chalcedony tabloid, set in a modern gold hoop (Figure 12). The reason why everyone was so surprised is evident at first glance: in the catalogue The figure taken for a philosophus stoicus :Vico pl. 29.1; ZwierleinDiehl 2007: 69-70, pl. 61.243, pl. 80.344 (Etruscan version). 31  See e.g. the red jasper cornicen Henig 2017: 26-7. 32  Seidmann 2006: 22-33. Buchanan 1966. 33  Boardman 1970/2001: no.998; Boardman et alli 1978: no. 280. 30 

Wagner 2008: 565-572. Scarisbrick et alli 2017: 7, no.3.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

On the left another standing figure with a sceptre is shown, this time with a human head, crowned, most likely with a disc, and an ankh held in the lowered hand. The seated figure on the right is Isis feeding the baby Horus. John owned a unique Hellenistic engraved gem demonstrating the technique of the engraver. The collection history of the gem is impressive, it had belonged to Sir Robert Mond and Newton Robinson before it caught the eye of the great archaeologist and director of the Antiquarium in Berlin, Adolf Furtwaengler.34 When John thought about giving it a more permanent home he thought Furtwaengler’s museum would appreciate it most and it is now back in the Antikensammlung.

John puts it admirably: ‘The artistic and iconographic merits of this stone are nil and negligible’. It is an unfinished stone. Where the gem engraver usually polishes off all the marks his tools made, here we can study his technique. From the outline he draws with a sharp tool, possibly even a diamond point, even though Jack Ogden has shown, that another chalcedony, in particular a weathered one, is already hard enough to produce this kind of incision.

Even in this small exploration of collectors we have seen a great variety of personalities and collecting habits. Engraved gems, classical and neo-classical alike, are things of great beauty. Coveted and highly prized they represent the owner’s wealth and status. Unlike a diamond encrusted Rolex watch classical gems are not usually the symbols of prosperity chosen by the ‘nouveau riche,’ but allow the owner to show off a classical education and a thorough knowledge of history, the pursuit of an academic hobby. A gem collection was generally not considered an ostentatious and vulgar display of affluence. And even though many of the greatest gem collections were assembled by wealthy aristocrats, scholars and academics were always establishing collections of their own.

Top left the engraver has only marked the stone with the outline of the figure: a standing figure with a ram’s head and sceptre, possibly Ammon. Top right the figure is taking more shape: the engraver has started to remove material from torso, buttocks and thighs with the cutting wheel, the head, possibly a jackal, is again only indicated in the outline sketch. It identifies him as Anubis. The two figures at the bottom show the more advanced stage of engraving: shallow scoring of the dress has been applied over the volume of the bodies.

John’s collecting days are probably over, not his working days: we have just published together with Julia Kagan and the Hermitage an unfinished project of Lorenz Natter, the Museum Britannicum. We are about to publish the gem collection of the Earl of Yarborough also known as THE WORSLEY GEMS. Collected by Sir Richard Worsley, whose scandalous life featured recently in a BBC production in which the actor of the young Inspector Morse (Endeavour) played our collector.

Figure 11. Europa on the bull. Moss agate, scaraboid, 19 x 14. Ashmolean (1966. 596) Given by Sir John Beazley.

Figure 12. ‘Furtwaengler gem.’ Blue chalcedony tabloid, Hellenistic, prob. 2nd century B.C., now Antikensammlung Berlin (inv. 2009,6). Photo: C. Wagner.



Boardman et alli 1976: 31-2, no. 44.

Claudia Wagner – Studying Gems: Collectors and Scholars


von Abonouteichos. Heidelberg: Forum Ritualdynamik; Diskussionsbeiträge des SFB 619 ‚Ritualdynamik‘ der Ruprecht-Karls- Universität Heidelberg. Christensen, S. R. 2012. A commentary on select poems by Posidippus of Pella. Thesis (D.Phil.): University of Oxford. Henig, M. 2017. Roman Gems in Old Collections and in Modern Archaeology. In B.van den Bercken and V. Baan (eds) Engraved Gems: From antiquity to the present. Leiden: Sidestone Press. Scarisbrick, D., C. Wagner and J. Boardman, 2017. The Beverley Collection of Gems at Alnwick Castle. The Philip Wilson Gems and Jewellery Series. London: Philip Wilson. Seidmann G. 2006. The Rev. Greville John Chester and ‘The Ashmolean Museum as a Home for Archaeology in Oxford, Bulletin for the History of Archaeology 16 (1), 27-33. Spier, J. 2014. A Cameo from the Medici Collection. Antike Kunst, vol. 57: 67-77. Pannuti, U. 1983. Catalogo della collezione glittica. Vol.1. Roma: Istituto poligrafico e zecca dello stato: Libreria dello Stato. Plantzos, D. 1999. Hellenistic Engraved Gems. Oxford : Clarendon Press. Wagner, C. and J. Boardman 2003. A collection of Classical and Eastern intaglios, rings and cameos. Oxford : The Beazley Archive and Archaeopress. Wagner, C. 2008. A Picture-book of Antiquity: the Neoclassical Gem Collection of Prince Poniatowski. In: IMAGINES: La Antigüedad en las Artes Escénicas y Visuales . Logroño : Universidad de La Rioja. Wagner, C. and J. Boardman 2009. Gems and the Classical Tradition: Studies in Gems and Jewellery. Oxford : The Beazley Archive and Archaeopress. Wagner, C. 2018. Collecting at Alnwick Castle: engraved gems in the collection of the Duke of Northumberland. In Collecting and Collectors. From Antiquity to Modernity. Selected Papers in Ancient Art and Architecture (SPAAA), (Proceedings of the 2017 Annual meeting in Toronto; 2018). Boston: Archaeological Institute of America. Zwierlein-Diehl, E. 1979. Die antiken Gemmen des Kunsthistorischen Museums in Wien. Vol. 2. München: Prestel. Zwierlein-Diehl, E. 2007. Antike Gemmen und ihr Nachleben. Berlin; New York: Walter de Gruyter.

Amorai-Stark, S., M. Hershkovitz and L. Holland 2016. Ancient Gems, Finger Rings and Seal Boxes from Caesarea Maritima: The Hendler Collection. Zirchron Yaakov: self-published by Shay Hendler. Aschengreen Piacenti, K. and J. Boardman 2008; with contributions by B. Chadour-Sampson and M. Henig. Ancient and modern gems and jewels in the collection of Her Majesty The Queen. London: Royal Collection. Beazley, J.D. (ed. Boardman, J.) 1920, 2003. The Lewes House Gems. Oxford: The Beazley Archive and Archeopress. Boardman, J. 1963. Island gems: a study of Greek seals in the geometric and early archaic periods. London : Society for the Promotion of Hellenic Studies. Boardman, J. 1968a. Archaic Greek gems: schools and artists in the sixth and early fifth centuries B.C. Evanston: Northwestern University Press. Boardman, J. 1968b. Engraved gems: the Ionides Collection. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1970/2001. Greek Gems and Finger Rings: Early Bronze Age to Late Classical. London : Thames & Hudson. Boardman, J. 1975. Intaglios and rings: Greek, Etruscan and Eastern: from a private collection. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. and D. Scarisbrick 1976. The Ralph Harari Collection of finger rings: published on the occasion of the exhibition, June 9-11, 14-18 (10-5 daily). London: S.J. Phillips. Boardman, J. and D. Scarisbrick 1977. The Wellington gems. London: S.J. Phillips, Ltd. Boardman, J. and M.-L.Vollenweider 1978. Catalogue of the engraved gems and finger rings. Ashmolean Museum. 1. Greek and Etruscan.Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press. Boardman, J. 2003. Classical Phoenician scarabs: a catalogue and study. Oxford: Archaeopress. Boardman, J. and C. Wagner 2018. Masterpieces in Miniature. The Philip Wilson Gems and Jewellery Series. London: Philip Wilson. Buchanan, B. 1966. Catalogue of ancient Near Eastern seals in the Ashmolean Museum v. 1. Cylinder seals. Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press. Chaniotis, A. 2004. Wie erfindet man Rituale für einen neuen Kult? Recycling von Ritualen - das Erfolgsrezept Alexanders


Buildings and History1 P. J. Rhodes secure date.5 The temple was at any rate not completed before the 420’s, and those who favour late dates in general date the first decree not long before the second; but I am among those who think that a version of the temple was included in the original plans for the acropolis programme (and that its significance should be assessed in that light), and that the Propylaea departed from absolute symmetry in order not to encroach on the temple’s site. I therefore date the first decree in the early 440’s, or at the latest in the 430’s.

I1felt something of an interloper at this celebration, since I am not an archaeologist but a historian. However, I have benefited considerably from Sir John’s work, as all Greek historians have. Beyond that, as an undergraduate in Oxford I attended some of Sir John’s lectures; and it so happens that he was the College Dean who presented me for the conferment of my D.Phil. degree in 1969.2 ***

How the buildings were funded has become a subject of debate. According to Plutarch Pericles’ opponents including Thucydides son of Melesias objected that, after moving the Delian League’s treasury from Delos, Athens was using the money contributed for fighting in order to gild and tart up the city like a wanton woman. Pericles replied that Athens did not need to account to the allies for the money as long as it kept them safe from the Persians, and in the end he offered to pay for and dedicate the buildings himself, but the people gave him their backing.6 The editors of the Athenian Tribute Lists on a flimsy basis constructed a fifteen-year plan for drawing on League money.7 However, Andrewes made a general attack on the reliability of that part of Plutarch’s Pericles, and more recently Kallet exposed the weakness of the A.T.L. scheme; Migeotte in Les Finances des cités grecques thought that the tribute was scarcely enough to cover military expenses and so could not have paid for buildings.8 Andrewes I think was too sweeping in his condemnation of Plutarch; Kallet undermined the particular scheme of A.T.L. but not any possibility of payment; in many years in the 440’s and 430’s I think the tribute should have been more than enough to cover military expenses. The tribute will at least have supported the building programme indirectly, by paying for Athens’ navy and military activity and therefore leaving more of the city’s money free for other purposes, and I should not rule out any possibility of a direct transfer.

Archaeologists and historians need each other, but the relationship is not always straightforward, in general and in the particular example which I have chosen to discuss, buildings and history. Historians like to know when buildings were erected, and what was the significance of the erection of those particular buildings at that particular time. In a few cases we have precise dates, from accounts of the money spent on the work or from other texts: for instance, for the ‘Periclean’ buildings put up on the Athenian acropolis in the 440’s and 430’s. But in far more cases we have only archaeological dates, derived for instance from the style of the building and from the archaeological dates of objects found in the foundations, and these dates can only be approximate and in some cases are controversial. For the Periclean work on the acropolis we have the accounts for the Parthenon, for the chryelephantine statue of Athena and for the Propylaea, as we have the accounts for the second phase of work on the Erechtheum when that was resumed in the last decade of the century; and we have the decrees (which I date 434/3, though that is controversial) which on my dating wound up the programme on the approach of the Peloponnesian War.3 But even here other matters are problematic. An inscription containing fragments from another set of accounts has long been thought to pertain to the statue of Athena Promachos, but recently that identification has been challenged.4 More notoriously controversial are the temple and priestess of Athena Nike, for which we have two decrees on the front and back of the same stele, the second almost certainly to be dated 424/3 but the first lacking a

It is debated whether or not there was a Peace of Callias between Athens and Persia in the middle of the fifth century (and I am one of the minority who think that the Peace of Callias was invented after the King’s Peace of 387/6, to substantiate the contrast between the humiliation of the King’s Peace and the glories of the fifth century)9. However, it seems certain that after c. 450 Athens and the Delian League no longer engaged in regular warfare against the Persians; so

I salute Sir John on his 90th birthday; and I thank the organisers / editors for arranging this celebration and including me in it, and all those with whom I enjoyed fruitful discussions, especially Prof. O. Palagia on the tombs at Vergina. 2  We have an indirect connection also, in that one of his contemporaries at Chigwell School, J. W. Finnett, became one of my sixth-form Classics masters when I was at school. 3  Parthenon, IG i3 436–451, 461 (extracts O&R 145); statue, 453–460 (extracts O&R 135); Propylaea, 462–466; Erechtheum, 474–479 (extracts O&R 181); decrees which I date 434/3, 52 = O&R 144 with Rhodes 2015. 4  IG i3 435. Challenged, Stroud 2006: 26–32; cf. Palagia 2013: esp. 119–120 (she suggests that the Promachos was a version of, and contemporary with, the chryselephantine statue in the Parthenon); Tracy 2016: 95–96. Challenge ignored, Shear 2016: 17–21, 31–32, dating the inscription mid fifth century from its letter forms. 1 

IG i3 35, 36 = O&R 137, 156. See the commentaries of O&R (with a preferred date of 438–435 for the first decree). The first decree has the older form of sigma but newer forms of some other letters: I need not here rehearse the arguments about letter forms and the dating of fifth-century Athenian inscriptions, but my own view is that earlier dates for inscriptions with the older style of lettering are not necessarily right but are not in every case necessarily wrong. 6  Plut. Per. 12–14. 7  E.g. Meritt et al. 1939–1953: iii. 326–328. 8  Andrewes 1978; Kallet 1989; Migeotte 2014: 438. 9  See, e.g., Rhodes 2010: 53–54; the earliest clear mention of the Peace is in Isoc. 4. Paneg. 117–120, of c. 380. 5 


P. J. Rhodes – Buildings and History

there is at any rate some truth behind the complaint against the building programme mentioned by Plutarch, and this change in Athenian policy is a part of the context in which the programme must be understood. Shear in his recent book Trophies of Victory argues that ‘Most of the temples [on the acropolis and elsewhere] seem to have been conceived as thank-offerings to the gods for victories in the Persian Wars, and most particularly the victory in the Battle of Marathon’, and that ‘it was [Pericles’] enduring achievement to inspire the political will’ by which the demos took the series of decisions necessary to accomplish that programme.10

away from the acropolis, there are many Athenian buildings for which we do not have a precise date, though we should very much like to have a date and a context. Many are civic buildings related to the history of Athens’ democracy, and there has been a temptation to link these with particular stages in the development of the democracy.16 Hurwit in his book on the acropolis claimed of religious buildings that ‘between 508 and 490, the democracy deliberately and thoroughly put its stamp on the religious spaces of Athens’.17 On the other hand, Whitley in his Archaeology of Ancient Greece, while he has a chapter entitled, ‘The Archaeology of Democracy: Classical Athens’, and within that chapter section headings which repeatedly mention democracy, in his actual text is in fact much more cautious about making connections of that kind.18 There are some cases where I am happy to believe in a political significance for the erection of that building at that time, but I am not happy to extend this to all buildings.

There is a problem of another kind concerning the acropolis programme. Work began in 447/6 (I leave aside as uncertain the date of the statue of Athena Promachos). Later texts quote an oath allegedly sworn before the battle of Plataea in 479 (but we have no fifth-century evidence for it), and some versions but not all include an undertaking to leave in ruins as a memorial the temples destroyed by the Persians when they sacked Athens in 480/79.11 If the oath and that clause are authentic, the Athenians decided to break it in the 440’s; if they are not, we have to explain why the temples on the acropolis were left in ruins until the 440’s. The oath is one of a number of alleged fifth-century documents of which there is no good evidence before the fourth century, and I align myself with those who believe that most at any rate are not authentic survivals of early texts but later reconstructions — not fantasies, but based on some genuine information — made later in order to make more vivid what people thought they knew about the fifth century.12 Whether there was an oath before Plataea, and how much was later known about it, must remain uncertain, but I do not think fifth-century Athenians would have thought it appropriate not to rebuild temples which had been destroyed, and I suspect that the undertaking not to rebuild was invented later to explain why the temples had in fact not been rebuilt for thirty years and more. An alternative explanation has recently been suggested by Shear: that before the 440’s there were simply not enough skilled workmen available to make the programme feasible.13

The ‘old bouleuterion’ was built on the west side of the agora about the end of the sixth century or the early fifth.19 The excavators have wavered between the two dates, but most recently in the latest Site Guide Camp writes, ‘perhaps built soon after the reforms of Kleisthenes to accommodate the newly formed council of 500’.20 The link with Cleisthenes and his remodelling of the council is attractive, and I have accepted it myself. The previous buildings on the site of the bouleuterion and the neighbouring tholos were very different and far more complex. They are regularly assumed to have been public buildings, and it has sometimes been claimed that they were used by Solon’s council, but there is nothing apart from the coincidence of site to support that. Most recently Camp has suggested that the largest building is to be dated to the mid sixth century (previously it had been dated slightly later), and that it may have served as a palace for the Pisisitratids,21 but apart from the date that is purely speculative. The Pnyx, where the assembly met, was first laid out in the late sixth century, and again it is plausibly suggested that this was another work of the régime established by Cleisthenes, in

Of earlier temples on the acropolis, Dörpfeld originally thought that the predecessor of the Parthenon was built after the Persian Wars, but after accepting that that was mistaken he argued that there was a first phase in the construction of the predecessor in the late sixth century, followed by a second phase in the 480’s. That view was undermined by Dinsmoor, and it now seems reasonably certain that there was one predecessor of the Parthenon, begun in the 480’s.14 There have been differing views also about the ‘old temple of Athena’, on the ‘Dörpfeld site’ between the Parthenon and the Erechtheum, which has been variously dated to the 520’s, towards the end of the Pisistratid tyranny, or else at the end of the century, after the overthrow of the tyranny.15 And,

Shear 2016: 192 seems to incline to the later date. 16  For what follows cf. briefly Rhodes 2015b: 61–62. I need not discuss here the date when the concept of demokratia was first formulated: different dates are championed in different chapters of Raaflaub et al. 2007; I favour Raaflaub’s view that the concept should be dated to the second quarter of the fifth century. 17  Hurwit 1999: 121–125 quoting 121. For instance, he claims both that the abandonment of work on the Pisistratids’ temple of Zeus Olympios and the building of the ‘old temple of Athena’ (for which he accepts a date after the overthrow of the tyranny) reflect Athens’ new democratic orientation (121). 18  Whitley 2001: 327–375 ch. xiii. 19  Identification of building doubted, Miller 1995; defended, Shear 1995. Miller suggested that in the fifth century the council met on the benches below and to the east of the temple of Hephaestus (143–152); Shear replied briefly (184–185 with n. 71); Camp dates the benches to the second half of the fifth century, and describes them as ‘clearly . . . a meeting place for one of the law courts or governing bodies of Athens’ (2010: 70). 20  See Rhodes 1972: 30 with n. 11; Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 29–30 with n. 25; Camp 2010: 60–63 at 61, cf. 2001: 44. 21  Solon’s council (with actual meetings in the open air), Thompson 1940: 43. Doubts, Rhodes 1972: 18–19; Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 25–29. Pisistratid palace, first suggested by Thompson 1962: 21; revived by Shear 1978: 5–7; cf. Camp 2010: 50, and more tentatively, with a date 550–525, 2001: 35.

Shear 2016: 389, 391. Lacking the clause, R&O 88. 21–51; including the clause, Lyc. Leocr. 80–82, Diod. Sic. 11.29.1–3, cf. such texts as Isoc. 4. Paneg. 156. 12  See in particular Habicht 1961. The oath was one of the documents rejected by Theopomp. FGrH 115 F 153. On the ‘Peace of Callias’ cf. above. 13  Shear 2016: 8–11. 14  After Persian Wars, Dörpfeld 1892; late C6 and 480’s, Dörpfeld 1902; 480’s only, Dinsmoor 1934. On the whole debate see Shear 2016: 395– 399, with work cited there. 15  520’s, Dinsmoor 1947: 112–118; last decade of century, Childs 1994. 10  11 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

which the assembly could be expected to be more important than it had been under the Pisistratid tyranny.22

and immediately to the east of that the odeion of Pericles.27 The odeion is said to have been built for the musical contest at the Panathenaea, and, modelled on the Persian King’s tent, to have had a pointed roof and to have been polyedron (‘manyseated’, or perhaps ‘many-sided’) and polystelon (‘manycolumned’). Shear in a recent discussion remarks that the building cannot be dated archaeologically but that literary evidence perhaps suggests the 440’s; and that what was most important about it was that it held a large audience and was a quintessential trophy of victory over the Persians.28

Another public building of the late sixth century or the early fifth in the agora was the Stoa of the Basileus, at the north end of the west side. There is no clear indication of an earlier building on the site. The basileus was one of the three earliest archons; a building could have been erected for him under any régime, and indeed the Perseus web site, on what basis I have not been able to discover, dates it c. 525. Camp’s latest view is ambiguous: ‘The style of the architecture points to an original date for the stoa in the neighborhood of 500 b.c. The reuse of much old material in the foundations, however, would be more explicable if the building had been erected after the Persian sack of 480/79 b.c.’23 This building is one of those which point to the development of the agora as a centre for Athenian government in the years c. 500, but I do not think that this has a particular democratic (or ur-democratic) significance, as the bouleuterion and the Pnyx do.

What is puzzling about the the adjacent theatre of Dionysus is that, although a stone theatre in the deme of Thoricus was created already in the late sixth century and modified in the mid fifth,29 the city of Athens did not have one until the third quarter of the fourth century. The answer now appears to be that work on a stone theatre was in fact begun before the Peloponnesian War but was abandoned at the beginning of the war.30

Other stoas were built in the agora in the fifth century. The Stoa Poikile was north-east of the Stoa of the Basileus. It is dated archaeologically c. 475–460. It was attributed to a Peisianax; that name is rare in Athens, but one bearer of it was perhaps a brother-in-law of Cimon, and Plutarch has a story that the painter Polygnotus depicted Cimon’s sister Elpinice in one of the stoa’s paintings; one of the paintings was of the battle of Marathon, the great achievement of Cimon’s father Miltiades. Whatever we make of stories about Elpinice, a link with Cimon in the time of his predominance in Athens is acceptable.24

Further building was done at the end of the fifth century and / or the beginning of the fourth: a new bouleuterion was built to the west of the old, and the old became the Metroum and a repository for archives. The Pnyx was remodelled, and its direction reversed, so that the speakers faced north and inland and the other citizens faced south and seawards. Buildings for the lawcourts, perhaps the first dedicated to that use, and a mint for bronze coins, were erected in the north-east and south-east of the agora respectively. Also to be taken into account are the resumption of work on the Erechtheum, between 409/8 and 405/4,31 and the publication of the revised code of laws at the Stoa of the Basileus, from 410/09.32 In view of Athens’ various changes of régime at the end of the fifth century, it would be particularly useful if these could be dated precisely and assigned to their proper context; and a throughgoing attempt to do that has been made by Julia Shear.33 She argues that after each of Athens’ bouts of oligarchy, 411–410 and 404–403, there was a need to reclaim the city’s public spaces for democracy, and she interprets the buildings of this period in that light.

The Stoa of Zeus, south of the Stoa of the Basileus, was built perhaps in the 420’s–410’s, and the first version of the South Stoa, which was used by officials, is dated to the late fifth century.25 We cannot give these a precise context, but they serve to remind us that the Peloponnesian War did not put a stop to all building in Athens. The tholos, the round house to the south of the bouleuterion, became the headquarters of the prytaneis, the fifty councillors from one tribe who held that position for a tenth of the year. This has regularly been dated c. 470–465; since there is no good evidence for prytaneis of that kind before Ephialtes’ reform of 462/1, I have suggested that the tholos was built after that, that just as the bouleuterion was built for Cleisthenes’ new council, the tholos was built for the new prytaneis instituted when Ephialtes gave additional business to the council.26

In the period beginning 41034 she notes the use of the Stoa of the Basileus to house the revised code of laws which had been undertaken; and she assigns to this period the building of the new bouleuterion and the use of the old as a repository for archives, suggesting that this was necessary because the old bouleuterion was contaminated by the submissive council of 412/1 and by its use by the Four Hundred. The choice of the Stoa as the home for the revised laws is less remarkable if, as seems likely, it had already become the home for the axones

Below the acropolis to the south-east were public buildings of a different kind, the theatre and sanctuary of Dionysus,

Odeion attributed to Pericles, Lyc. fr. IX.2/58 Conomis [editors: Conomis has two numbersing systems, the first of which uses roman numerals as here], Plut. Per. 13.9–11. 28  Shear 2016: 197–228. ‘Many-sided’, as the effect created by a pyramidal roof over a square building, Miller 1997: 227, accepted by Shear 2016: 208–9. 29  E.g. Mee and Spawforth 2001: 101–104. 30  Papastamati-von Moock 2014: 20–23. 31  Cf. IG i3 474–9 (extracts O&R 181): the preamble of 474 refers explicitly to the resumption of the work. 32  This stoa is mentioned explicitly in the republication of Draco’s homicide law, IG i3 104.7–8 (409/8); cf. the references to ‘the stoa’ in Andoc. 1. Myst. 82, 85. 33  Shear 2011. 34  Shear 2011: 112–134 ch. iv. 27 

E.g. Travlos 1971: 466–467; Calligas 1996: 3. 23  C. 525, artifact%3Fname%3DAthens,%2520Stoa%2520Basileios %2520(Royal%2520Stoa)%26object%3DBuilding (consulted 26 June 2017). df Sixth century, Coulton 1976: 219. Late sixth or early fifth century, Camp 2010: 75–81 at 79, cf. with a date ‘ca. 500 b.c. (?)’ 2001; 45 caption to fig. 44. 24  Camp 2001: 68–69; 2010: 95–101. Peisianax a brother of Cimon’s wife Isodice, Davies 1971: 376–378. Plutarch’s story, Plut. Cim. 4.6. The paintings, Paus. 1.15. 25  Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 96–103, 74–78; Camp, 2010: 73–75, 161–164. 26  C. 470, Thompson 1940: 126–128, 153; c. 465, Camp 2010: 48–50 at 48; after Ephialtes, Rhodes 1972: 17–19. 22 


P. J. Rhodes – Buildings and History

of Draco and Solon.35 The new bouleuterion has been dated archaeologically to 410–403, but the later date of 403 seems less secure than the earlier date of 410, and we perhaps ought not to rule out building after 40336 — in which case Shear would be able to invoke contamination by the submissive council under the Thirty. Shear claims that these developments ‘identified the Agora as a space now particularly associated with the rule of the demos’.37 On the acropolis she sees the resumption of work on the Erechtheum as obscuring the oligarchy and linking the restored democracy to the past — though probably the work had been suspended before the oligarchic revolution, in which case its resumption was not of particularly democratic significance, but it perhaps more probably reflects the reviving confidence occasioned by the series of Athenian successes in the war, beginning with the victory at Cyzicus in 410.38 More generally, I think she plays down the extent to which the agora was already before 411 an area in which much of the operation of the polis — that is, of the democratic polis — took place.

correct; but I think that, writing in an era when scholars are particularly interested in spaces, she sees too much overtly democratic significance in the buildings of this period. The next period of significant building activity was (roughly) the third quarter of the fourth century; and here recent scholarship has tended to emphasise that the period of Lycurgus, in the 330’s and 320’s, was not a bolt from the blue but in various respects a continuation of the period of Eubulus, in the late 350’s and 340’s.43 The background for this period is provided by Athenian defeats, in the Social War of 356–355, at sea indeed, and by Philip of Macedon at Chaeronea, in 338. Until the mid 350’s Athens had been pursuing foreign policies which were financially more than it could afford and in their results were not successful enough to justify the expenditure. After the Social War a new generation of politicians came to the fore, and there was a reassessment of Athens’ policies. Isocrates (whom I consider to be a reflector of other people’s thinking in such matters rather than an original thinker), in his speech (8) On the Peace called for the abandonment of the old imperial policies (and suggested that the Greeks would then admire Athens so much that they would grant it what it wanted anyway). Xenophon in the climax of his Poroi insisted that to prosper financially Athens needed peace.44 It was probably in the late 350’s that the theoric fund was established, ostensibly to cover the cost of citizens’ theatre tickets at major festivals; and provision was made for any surplus revenue to be paid to that rather than to the stratiotic fund, so that the theoric fund became the repository of whatever spare money the state had, and therefore a source of funding for special projects.45

Shear accepts the statement of Plutarch that it was the Thirty who rebuilt the Pnyx and changed its orientation, while suggesting that if it was unfinished that restored democracy of 403 will have finished it. However, it has been argued persuasively that the Thirty are unlikely to have had either the time to undertake the work or the interest in the assembly to make them want to do so, and it is better to date the whole work after the restoration.39 To the period after the restoration of 40340 Shear assigns the first dedicated lawcourt buildings, in the north-east of the agora,41 and the mint for bronze coins (that for silver coins has not yet been found), in the south-east.42 These again she sees as allowing the demos to reclaim the contested space of the agora as its own after the second interruption; but courts had met in the agora before though not in dedicated buildings, and I again think she makes too much of this stage in a long development.

The defeat at Chaeronea was traumatic, but some of the policies undertaken after it, including the refashioning of the ephebeia and the modernisation and continued enlargement of the navy, suggest that not only Demosthenes but many Athenians hoped that Athens would recover from that as it had recovered from the Peloponnesian War; Macedonian supremacy would not necessarily last for ever, and Athens must be ready to seize the opportunity when it came.

We do indeed need to place and explain buildings in their context as far as we can; and readers have seen that I accept the placing of the old bouleuterion and the first Pnyx after the reforms of Cleisthenes, and that I have myself suggested that the tholos should be dated after the reforms of Ephialtes. Certainly in 410 and again in 403 the Athenians needed to reestablish their democracy after a period of oligarchy. It is possible, though not certain, that all of Shear’s dates are

The buildings of this period are distinguished from those of the Periclean period in that the fifth-century buildings were funded entirely publicly (and we have seen that the appropriation of funds from the Delian League is not to be ruled out), but for these later buildings contributions from individuals were accepted in exchange for honours. A decree proposed by Lycurgus himself honoured Eudemus of Plataea for what the inscribed text calls ‘a voluntary gift [epididonai] towards the making of the stadium and the Panathenaic theatre of a thousand yoke of oxen’, but the cutter was careless, and the text ought probably to have specified the Panathenaic stadium and the theatre. Lycurgus’ friend Xenocles in 321/0 built a bridge at Eleusis. 46

Ath. Pol. 7.1 makes the Stoa their original home, though in the time of Solon it did not yet exist; the truth behind Anaximenes FGrH 72 F 13 may be that Ephialtes moved them to the Stoa from the acropolis. 36  Shear 1995: 189, with Miller 1995: 156. Camp’s date in 2010: 58–59 is ‘the end of the fifth century’. 37  Shear 2011: 122. 38  She herself suggests that the suspension was ‘possibly as a result of the Sicilian disaster’ (113). 39  Shear 2011: 177–180, 263, where n. 1 acknowledges that it is impossible to distinguish archaeologically between work done under the Thirty and work done after. Attribution to Thirty rejected, Moysey 1981: 31–37. 40  Shear 2011: 264–274. 41  ‘At the turn of the fifth to fourth century’, Townsend 1995: 104 (buildings A and B); late fifth and fourth centuries, Camp 2010: 119– 121. 42  About the last decade of the fifth century, but not certainly a mint from the beginning, Camp and Kroll 2001: 142; end of the fifth century, Camp 2010: 155–156. Against that earlier date, Shear 2011: 269 n. 27. 35 

E.g. Faraguna 1992: esp. 267–269; Hintzen-Bohlen 1997: esp. 135– 140. 44  Xen. Vect. 5. 45  For this dating and interpretation see Rhodes 1981: 514–515. 46  Eudemus, O&R 94 = IG ii3 352.15–18; Xenocles, IG ii2 1191, 2840, Anth. Pal. 9.47. 43 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

As part of the response to Athens’ defeats in the Social War and at Chaeronea, the buildings of this period included buildings for military purposes. There were not only new warships, but shipsheds to house them; and a new arsenal for their equipment: these are attributed to the theoric officials in the time of Eubulus, and Lycurgus is given the credit for completing them.47

Fourth-century interest in the sanctuary at Eleusis is attested by fragments of a detailed law about the mysteries, apparently enacted between 367 and 347; and a law of 353/2 about firstfruits which amended an earlier law.56 The telesterion was enlarged by the addition on the south-east side of the Portico of Philon. A first start on that was made in 356/5–353/2,57 but it was abandoned after Delphi was asked in 352/1 to choose between renting out the hiera orgas for cultivation, to raise money for the work, and leaving it uncultivated, and it chose the latter.58 Work on a new plan began perhaps in the 330’s,59 and was completed in the time of Demetrius of Phalerum.60

On the acropolis there was no building in this period. In the agora there were buildings of various kinds. On the west side, south of the Stoa of Zeus, were built temples of Zeus Phratrios and Athena Phratria, and (slightly later) of Apollo Patroos.48 Slightly further south, opposite the Metroum, was the new monument of the eponymous heroes of the ten tribes: this replaced an earlier monument which was located elsewhere, perhaps at the west end of the hellenistic Middle Stoa.49 Additions were made to the buildings in the north-east of the agora which housed lawcourts — but the Square Peristyle, a single larger building which is closer to what the reader of Ath. Pol. on allotment to the lawcourts would expect, was built not in the time of Ath. Pol. but at the end of the fourth or the beginning of the third century.50 In the south-west the SouthWest Fountain House and a water-clock were built, and these used to be dated earlier in the century but are now dated to the third quarter.51

*** It is not, of course, only in connection with Athens that we need to provide buildings with their historical context, and I end with some examples from elsewhere. What we call the Delian League had its headquarters at Delos until the treasury was moved in 454; and it is likely that, as after the move 1/60 of the tribute was given as an offering to Athena in Athens, before it an offering was given to Apollo in Delos.61 A temple of Apollo was built or restored there in the sixth century, perhaps under Athenian auspices when Pisistratus ‘purified’ the sanctuary.62 While Delos was the headquarters of the League, work began on a new, larger temple, farther south; but about the time of the move that work was discontinued, and it was not resumed until after Delos had become independent of Athens in 314.63 The Athenians did, however, build another temple of Apollo, the so-called ‘temple of the Athenians’, between the archaic temple and the unfinished one, in the years between their further purification of the island in 426/5 and 417.64

The date of the third version of the Pnyx has long been disputed between the fourth century and the Hadrianic period, but it now seems agreed that the Roman pottery on the site is intrusive: comparison with walls in Phocis has suggested a date c. 346–338; this rebuilding seems to have been left unfinished, and Camp has suggested that the new theatre was found more convenient for meetings of the assembly.52 The interest of Lycurgus and others in making proper provision for Athenian religion and festivals is well known.53 The stone theatre of Dionysus, below the acropolis to the south-east, seems (as I remarked above) to have been planned in the time of Pericles but not built then because of the Peloponnesian War. The fourth-century work was planned in the time of Eubulus, is known from the honours for Eudemus of Plataea to have been in progress c. 330, and was finished in 320/19.54 Outside the city wall to the east were built the stadium for athletic contests at the Panathenaea, mentioned in the decree for Eudemus and attributed to Lycurgus in other texts, and the gymnasium at the Lyceum.55

*** At Delphi we have contexts for the successive temples of Apollo and for various other buildings.65 Pausanias records a story that the first three temples were of laurel, beeswax and feathers, and bronze respectively, and were followed by one of stone attributed to the legendary heroes Trophonius and Agamedes, which was destroyed by fire in 548/7.66 A series of writers from Herodotus to Philochorus told of the building of the replacement for that, and of the involvement of Athens’ Alcmaeonid family, who did a more expensive job than they had undertaken to do, and the pressure which they were able to put on Sparta to expel the tyrant Hippias.67

Eubulus, Aeschin. 3. Ctesiphon 25; completion by Lycurgus, [Plut.] X Or. 841d cf. decree ap. 852c, and IG ii2 1668, cf. 505.12–17. Ath. Pol. 46.1 mentions equipment and shipsheds as well as ships. 48  E.g. Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 136–140; Camp 2010: 70–73. 49  E.g. Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 38–41; Camp 2010: 66–68. 50  E.g. Townsend 1995: 106–108 (buildings C and D), 108–113 (building E and Square Peristyle). On allotments to the lawcourts see Ath. Pol. 63–66. 51  E.g. Thompson and Wycherley 1972: 200–202 (early to mid C4); Camp2010: 173–174 (third quarter to late C4). 52  C. 346–338, Rotroff and Camp 1996.. Planned perhaps in the mid 340’s, but the work done in the 330’s, cf. Aeschin. 1. Timarchus 81–84 with Fisher 2001: 217–218. Theatre more convenient, Camp 1996. 53  See, for instance, Parker 1996: 242–255. 54  See Papastamati-von Moock 2014. 55  Both, [Plut.] X Or. 841d cf. decree ap. 852c / IG ii2 457.b.7–8. On the stadium see Travlos 1971: 498–504 (previously these contests were held in the agora: Travlos 1971: 2–3); on the Lyceum, for the palaistra of 841d see Travlos 1971: 345, and for the recently-discovered site see Blackman 1996/7: 8–10. 47 

Agora xvi 56 = I. Eleusis 138; IG ii2 140 = I. Eleusis 142; Agora xvi 57 is perhaps related to though not part of 56. 57  IG ii2 1666 = I. Eleusis 143. Clinton dates 354/3 IG ii2 1682 = I. Eleusis 141, the contract for a stoa. 58  I. Eleusis 144 = IG ii3 292, Androtion FGrH 324 F 30, Philoch. 328 F 155. 59  IG ii2 1670/1/2/3/5 = I. Eleusis 152, 151, 177, 159, 157, with Clinton 1971: 83–113, re-editing 1673 = 159 and discussing the project. For other work in progress in 329/8 see IG ii2 1672 = 177.23–4, 290. 60  Vitruv. 7.praef.17, IG ii2 1680 = I. Eleusis 165. 61  Athens, IG i3 259.1–4; Delos, e.g. Meiggs 1972: 237. 62  E.g. Courby 1931: 218; Dinsmoor 1950: 133. 63  E.g. Courby 1931 104–105, 219–220; Dinsmoor 1950: 184, 221. 64  E.g. Courby 1931: 220–225; Dinsmoor 1950: 183–184; date of dedication established by records of crowns. Purification, Thuc. 3.104; Nicias’ architheoria in 417, Plut. Nic. 3.5–4.1. 65  On the ‘spatial politics’ of Delphi see especially Scott 2010: 41–145. 66  Paus. 10.5.9–13. 67  Hdt. 5.62.2–63.1, Isoc. 15. Antid. 232, Dem. 21. Midias 144 with schol., 56 


P. J. Rhodes – Buildings and History

The development of that story was analysed by Forrest, who showed that the original version had the work done wholly or largely before 511/0, and the Alcmaeonids able to invoke the gratitude of Delphi rather than to spend on mercenaries money which they had collected for the work.68

treasury, at the bend in the Sacred Way, was said by Pausanias to have been built from spoils taken at the battle of Marathon. A base below the treasury, with an inscription mentioning Marathon, has been thought to be a later addition, and archaeologists have often though not always dated the treasury before Marathon; but recent work indicates that the addition of the base was envisaged from the beginning, and that the date after Marathon for the treasury must therefore be correct.78 The Stoa of the Athenians, immediately below the platform on which the temple was built, has an inscription referring to hopla and akroteria captured from ‘the enemy’. Pausanias associated this with a campaign of 429, but it is agreed that the lettering is much earlier than that: campaigns which have been suggested are that against the Boeotians and Chalcidians c. 506, the war against Aegina between c. 505 and 481, and the battle of Salamis in 480. Amandry suggested that the hopla and akroteria were from Xerxes’ bridge of boats across the Hellespont, and I find that attractive. However, more recently Walsh has argued that the Stoa belongs neither to the beginning of the century nor to the 420’s but to the First Peloponnesian War, in the 450’s; and Hansen, that it was built c. 475–470 to commemorate various wars.79

That temple in turn was destroyed by fire and / or earthquake in 373/2, and its replacement was caught up in inter-state politics.69 In 371 before the battle of Leuctra Xenophon reports that one Spartan thought that Cleombrotus ought to attend to that rather than oppose the Thebans; in 368 the temple was one of the matters raised with Athens by Dionysius I of Syracuse.70 In fact the Amphictyony began collecting funds for the rebuilding in 367/6: a ‘first obol’ from spring 366 to spring 361 (notionally a levy of 1 obol per person from the Amphictyonic states, though some states paid round sums and there were voluntary contributions from some nonAmphictyonic states and individuals), and a ‘second obol’ from spring 361 to autumn 356.71 But this was a time when Delphi became politicised: in 363/2 some Delphian aristocrats were expelled and took refuge in Athens, and Athens denied the legality of their expulsion; perhaps in 360/59, Thebes was granted promanteia; and in the 350’s fines imposed by the Amphictyony on Thebes’ enemies Phocis and Sparta led to the Third Sacred War of 356–346.72 The expelled aristocrats returned to Delphi, and one of them, Aristoxenus, was archon in 356/5. The naopoioi, responsible for the building, did not meet in 355 or 354; wartime naopoioi from states on the Phocian side met from spring 353 to spring 351, and deposited their funds with the city of Delphi; then there were no more meetings until 345. The major work was completed in 334, and the statues were placed in the pediments in 327/6.73

At the beginning of the Sacred Way was not a building but a statue group, said by Pausanias to have been funded from the spoils at Marathon but to be the work of Pheidias, in the third quarter of the century.80 Immediately before that the Spartan Lysander placed his ‘navarchs monument’ commemorating his victory in the Peloponnesian War, in the foreground of which Lysander himself was crowned by Poseidon.81 The ‘serpent column’ commemorating the Greeks’ victory over the Persians in 480–479, now in Istanbul, was placed east of the temple where the Sacred Way turns north: we are told that this originally bore a boastful couplet (of which there is no trace on the surviving serpents) in which the Spartan commander Pausanias claimed the victory for himself, and that the couplet was erased and replaced by the list of participating states which does survive.82

Various states built treasuries and set up dedications at Delphi, and for these too the historical context is important. I mention simply some of the most significant instances. The Corinthian treasury was built before the Corinthians lost their influence at Delphi at the beginning of the sixth century,74 and the Sicyonian tholos and monopteros after Sicyon had supplanted Corinth there;75 some of the offerings made by Croesus of Lydia in the middle of the sixth century were placed in the Corinthian treasury;76 and the Sicyonian buildings (perhaps discredited by association with the tyranny) were replaced by a new treasury in the late sixth century.77

To return to buildings, one other treasury was that of the Thebans (emphatically the Thebans, not the Boeotians), added on a high bastion at the south-west entrance to the sanctuary, as the Spartan navarchs monument was at the south-east entrance:83 according to Pausanias this was built after the Theban victory over Sparta at Leuctra in 371 (and therefore in the period when, as we have seen, Thebes was

There were several Athenian buildings and monuments at Delphi. In probable chronological order, the Athenian

Paus. 10.11.5. Scott 2010: 77–81. Inscription on base, F. Delphes iii. ii. 1 = M&L 19. Treasury before 490, e.g. Dinsmoor 1950: 117; Mee & Spawforth 2001: 305; after 490, e.g. la Coste-Messelière 1957: esp. 259– 267; Bousquet 1970: 341. Base envisaged from beginning so treasury must be after 490, Amandry 1998; Neer 2004: 67. 79  Paus. 10.11.6. Scott 2010: 96. Inscription, F. Delphes ii, La Colonne des Naxiens et le Portique des Athéniens, p. 39 = M&L 25. Xerxes’ bridge of boats, Amandry 1953: 91–121; doubts expresssed by M&L; Amandry replied in 1978: 582–6. 450’s, Walsh 1986; c. 475–470, Hansen 1989. 80  Paus. 10.10.1. Scott 2010: 97 (dating c. 460). 81  Paus. 10.9.7–11, F. Delphes iii. i, pp. 24–41 nos. 50–69 (inscriptions M&L 95), cf. Plut. Lys. 18.1. Scott, 105–107. Location implied by Pausanias defended by Roux in Pouilloux and Roux 1963: 16–36, 51–55. 82  Thuc. 1.132.2–3, [Dem.] 59. Neaera 96–98, cf. Plut. De Her. Mal. 873c; the surviving inscription, SIG3 31 = M&L 27. Scott 2010: 85–86. On the two versions of the story see Fornara 1967: 291–294; Trevett 1990: 409–411. 83  Scott 2010: 114–115, cf. 2016: 100–111 with 192–195 (accepting Pausanias’ date). 78 

Ath. Pol. 19.4 (cf. schol. Ar. Lys. 1150), Philoch. FGrH 328 F 115; principal texts collected in Jacoby’s commentary on Philochorus. Scott, 2010: 56–59. 68  Forrest 1969. Amasis of Egypt, who died in 526, made a contribution to the funds: Hdt. 2.180. 69  Marm. Par. FGrH 239 A 71. Scott 2010: 118–120. 70  371, Xen. Hell. 6.4.2; 368, R&O 33 = IG ii2 103.8–10. 71  C. Delphes ii. 1–10. 72  Delphian aristocrats, IG ii2 109 = SIG3 175; Theban promanteia, SIG3 176; Amphictyonic fines, e.g. Diod. Sic. 16.23.2–3. 73  C. Delphes ii. 31–97. 74  Attributed to the tyrant Cypselus, Plut. De Pyth. Or. 400d–f. Scott 2010: 41–45. 75  Scott 2010: 53–55. Corinth and Sicyon, Forrest 1956 (attacks on the historicity of the war, by Robertson 1978 and others have not convinced me that there is no truth at all behind the stories). 76  Hdt. 1.51.3. 77  Scott 2010: 37–38, 62.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

taking a particular interest in Delphi); if Diodorus’ mention of a ‘temple’ built from spoils in the Third Sacred War of 356–346 refers to this treasury, that is less likely to be correct, since Thebes though on the winning side was exhausted.84

*** In general, if we are to understand the significance of buildings we need to know the historical context to which they belong. Sometimes that context is clear; but all too often, as my examples have shown, it is not. In this matter, as in every aspect of our studying Greek history from patchy evidence, we have to strike a balance: to make the best we can of the evidence which we have, but not to make too much of it, or to claim that we have certainty when we have not.

*** I end with the three royal tombs at Vergina, the old Macedonian capital of Aegeae, discovered by M. Andronicos in 1977–8. The identification of Aegeae at Vergina, south-west of Pella, rather than at Edessa, west of Pella, was established by Hammond.85 The tombs are all of the mid to late fourth century, but the precise dating, and the identity of the people buried in them, have attracted great excitement. Two main lines of interpretation have emerged: the first is that tomb 1 contained Amyntas III (died 370/69) with a woman and children including a new-born baby, tomb 2 contained Philip II (died aged 46 in 336) and his last wife, Cleopatra, and tomb 3 contained Alexander IV (died aged 13 in 310); the second is that tomb 1 held Philip, Cleopatra and their child, tomb 2 held Philip III Arrhidaeus (died aged 41 in 317) and his wife Eurydice, and as above tomb 3 contained Alexander IV.86 On tomb 3 there is agreement; and in tomb 1, raided in antiquity, little survived apart from the bones. Attention has therefore been focused on tomb 2: Philip II, who died in 336, or Arrhidaeus, who died in 317? In favour of Philip II have been claimed the man’s skull, with an injury to the right eye consistent with the injury which Philip is known to have suffered during his siege of Methone in 355/4,87 and the likelihood that a man given such a lavish burial would be a king such as Philip. In favour of Arrhidaeus is the claim that, although archaeologically there cannot be a great difference between a grave of 336 and a grave of 317, stylistic features and some of the grave goods point to the later date, while recently it has been maintained that a damaged knee among the bones in tomb 1 reflects a leg injury such as that suffered by Philip in 339 (though in fact the texts point to an injury not to the knee but to the thigh).88 The most recent study of the remains in tomb 2 supports the identification of Philip (but claims that the only attested injury of which there is skeletal evidence is to his hand), but argues that the woman was aged 30 or slightly over, was a horse-rider with an injured leg, and therefore cannot be either Cleopatra or Eurydice but is likely to be the daughter of the Scythian king Atheas.89 I still incline to the view that Philip was buried in tomb 2, but I fear this is a question on which people can persuade themselves that what they want to believe is the truth (and that no doubt applies to me as well as to others).

Bibliography Amandry, P. 1953. Fouilles de Delphes, ii. La Colonne des Naxiens et le Portique des Athéniens. Paris: De Boccard. Amandry, P. 1978. Consécration d’armes galates à Delphes. In BCH 102: 571–586. Amandry, P. 1998. Notes de topographie et d’ architecture delphiques, x. Le ‘Socle marathonien’ et le trésor des Athéniens. In BCH 122: 75–90. Andronicos, M. 1984. Vergina: The Royal Tombs and the Ancient City. Athens: Ἐκδοτικὴ Ἀθηνῶν. Andrewes, A. 1978. The Opposition to Perikles. In JHS 98: 1–8. Antikas, T. G., and L. K. Wynn-Antikas 2016. New Finds from the Remains in Tomb II at Aegae Point to Philip II and a Scythian Princess. In International Journal of Osteoarchaeology 26: 682–692. Bartsiokas, A. et al. 2015. The Lameness of King Philip II and Royal Tomb I at Vergina, Macedonia. In Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, cxii. 32 (20 July 2015): 9844–9848 (10.1073/pnas.1510906112). Blackman, D. J. 1996/7. Archaeology in Greece, 1996–97. In AR 43: 1–125. Borza, E. N. 1990. In the Shadow of Olympus: The Emergence of Macedon. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Bousquet, J. 1970. [Review of M&L.] In RA 1970 [volumes not numbered]: 340–342. Calligas, P. G. 1996. Archaeological Research on the Athenian Pnyx. In B. Forsén and G. R. Stanton (ed.) The Pnyx in the History of Athens: 1–5. Helsinki: Finnish Institute at Athens. Camp, J. McK., II 1996. The Form of Pnyx III. In B. Forsén and G. R. Stanton (ed.) The Pnyx in the History of Athens: 41–46. Helsinki: Finnish Institute at Athens. Camp, J. McK., II 2001. The Archaeology of Athens. New Haven,: Yale University Press. Camp, J. McK., II 2010. The Athenian Agora: Site Guide, 5th edition. Princeton: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Camp, J. McK. II, and J. H. Kroll 2001. The Agora Mint and Athenian Bronze Coinage. In Hesperia 70: 127–162 Childs, W. A. P. 1994. The Date of the Old Temple of Athena on the Athenian Acropolis. In W. D. E. Coulson et al. (ed.) The Archaeology of Athens and Attica under the Democracy: 1–6. Oxford: Oxbow. Clinton, K. 1971. Inscriptions from Eleusis. In Ἀρχ. Ἐφ. 1971 [volumes not numbered]: 81–136. Coulton, J. J. 1976. The Architectural Development of the Greek Stoa. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Courby, F. 1931. Exploration archéologique de Délos, xii. Les Temples d’Apollon. Paris: De Boccard. Davies, J. K. 1971. Athenian Propertied Families, 600 – 300 b.c. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Dinsmoor, W. B. 1934. The Date of the Older Parthenon. In AJA n.s. 38: 408–448.

Paus. 10.11.5; Diod. Sic. 17.10.5. Hammond 1972: 156–158. 86  Tomb 2 Philip, e.g. Andronicos 1984: 226–231; 1 Amyntas, 2 Philip, 3 Alexander IV, Hammond 1982; 1 Philip, 2 Arrhidaeus, 3 Alexander IV, e.g. Borza 1990: 256–266. 87  Dem. 18. De Cor. 67, Didymus, In Dem. 12.43–64 (Theopomp. FGrH 115 F 52, Marsyas 135–6 F 16, Duris 76 F 36: right eye), Diod. Sic. 16.34.5, etc. See Prag et al. 1984. 88  Dem. 18.De Cor. 67 with schol. (124 Dilts), Ath. 6.248f (leg), cf. Plut. Quaest. Conv. 9.739b (uncertain which leg was lame); Didymus, In Dem. 13.3–7 (Duris FGrH 76 F 36, Marsyas 135–6 F 17), Plut. De Alex. Fort. 1.331b, Just. Epit. 9.3.2 (thigh); Sen. Controv. 10.5.6 (lower leg). See Bartsiokas et al. 2015. 89  Antikas and Wynn-Antikas 2016 (for which I thank Prof. O. Palagia). Philip’s four injuries, including hand, Dem. 18. De Cor. 67; Atheas, Just. Epit. 9.2. 84  85 


P. J. Rhodes – Buildings and History

Dinsmoor, W. B. 1947. The Hekatompedon on the Athenian Akropolis. In AJA n.s. 51: 109–151. Dinsmoor, W. B. 1950. The Architecture of Ancient Greece. London: Batsford. Dörpfeld, W. 1892. Das ältere Parthenon. In AM 17: 158–189. Dörpfeld, W. 1902. Die Zeit des ältere Parthenon. In AM 27: 379–416. Faraguna, M. 1992. Atene nell’età di Alessandro.MAL 9th series 2: 165–447. Fisher, N. R. E. 2001. Aeschines, Against Timarchos.Oxford: Oxford University Press. Fornara, C. W. 1967. Two Notes on Thucydides. In Philologus 111: 291–295. Forrest, W. G. 1956. The First Sacred War. In BCH 80: 33–52. Forrest, W. G. 1969. The Tradition about Hippias’ Expulsion from Athens. In GRBS 10: 277–286. Habicht, C. 1961. Falsche Urkunden zur Geschichte Athens im Zeitalter der Perserkriege. In Hermes 89: 1–35. Hammond, N. G. L. 1972. A History of Macedonia, i. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hammond, N. G. L. 1982. The Evidence for the Identity of the Royal Tombs at Vergina. In W. L. Adams and E. L. Borza (ed.) Philip II, Alexander the Great and the Macedonian Heritage: 111–127. Washington, D.C.: University Press of America. Hansen, O. 1989. Epigraphica Bellica: On the Dedication of the Athenian Portico at Delphi. In C&M 40: 133–134. Hintzen-Bohlen, B. 1997. Die Kulturpolitik des Eubulos und des Lykurg. Berlin: Akademie Verlag. Hurwit, J. M. 1999. The Athenian Acropolis. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Kallet, L. 1989. Did Tribute Fund the Parthenon? In Cl. Ant. 8: 252–266. la Coste-Messelière, P. de 1957. Fouilles de Delphes, iv. 4. Sculptures du Trésor des Athéniens. Paris: De Boccard. Mee, C. B., and A. J. S. Spawforth 2001. Greece: An Oxford Archaeological Guide.(Oxford: Oxford University Press. Meiggs, R. 1972. The Athenian Empire. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Meritt, B. D., H. T. Wade-Gery and M. F. McGregor 1939– 1953. The Athenian Tribute Lists. Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press – Princeton: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Migeotte, L. 2014. Les Finances des cités grecques. Paris: Les Belles Lettres. Miller, M. C. 1997. Athens and Persia in the Fifth Century b.c. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Miller, S. G. 1995. Old Metroon and Old Bouleuterion in the Classical Agora of Athens. In M. H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub (ed.), Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis (C.P.C. Papers ii. Historia Einzelschriften xcv): 133–156. Stuttgart: Steiner. Moysey, R. A. 1981. The Thirty and the Pnyx. In AJA n.s. 85: 31–37. Neer, R. T. 2004. The Athenian Treasury at Delphi and the Material of Politics. In Cl. Ant. 23: 63–93. Palagia, O. 2013. Not from the Spoils of Marathon: Pheidias’ Bronze Athena on the Acropolis. In K. Buraselis and E. Koulakiotis (ed), Marathon: The Day After: 117–137. Athens: European Cultural Centre of Delphi. Papastamati-von Moock, C. 2014. The Theatre of Dionysus in Athens: New Data and Observations on its ‘Lycurgan’ Phase. In E. Csapo, H. R. Goette, J. R. Green and P. Wilson

Greek Theatre in the Fourth Century b.c.: 15–76. Berlin: de Gruyter. Parker, R. C. T. 1996. Athenian Religion: A History. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Pouilloux, J., and G. Roux 1963. Énigmes à Delphes. Paris: De Boccard for Lyon: Institut Fernand-Courby. Prag, A. J. N. W., J. H. Musgrave and R. A. H. Neave 1984. The Skull from Tomb II at Vergina: King Philip II of Macedon. In JHS 104: 60–78. Raaflaub K. A., J. Ober and R. W. Wallace 2007. Origins of Democracy in Ancient Greece. Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Rhodes, P. J. 1972. The Athenian Boule, Oxford: Oxford University Press. Rhodes, P. J. 1981. A Commentary on the Aristotelian Athenaion Politeia. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Rhodes, P. J. 2010. A History of the Classical Greek World, 478 – 323 b.c., 2nd edition. Chichester: Wiley– Blackwell. Rhodes, P. J. 2015a. The Date of the ‘Financial Decrees of Callias’ (IG i3 52)’. In A. P. Matthaiou and N. Papazarkadas (ed.) ἄξων: Studies in Honor of Ronald S. Stroud: i. 39–47. Athens: Greek Epigraphic Society. Rhodes, P. J. 2015b. Directions in the Study of Athenian Democracy. In SCI 34: 49–68. Robertson, N. D. 1978. The Myth of the First Sacred War. In CQ n.s. 28: 38–73. Rotroff, S. I., and J. McK. Camp, II 1996. The Date of the Third Period of the Pnyx. In Hesperia 65: 263–294. Scott, M. C. 2010. Delphi and Olympia: The Spatial Politics of Panhellenism in the Archaic and Classical Period. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Scott, M. C. 2016. The Performance of Boiotian Identity at Delphi. In S. D. Gartland (ed.), Boiotia in the Fourth Century b.c.: 99–120 with 192–198. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. Shear, J. L. 2011. Polis and Revolution: Responding to Oligarchy in Classical Athens. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Shear, T. L., Jr. 1978. Tyrants and Buildings in Archaic Athens. In [editors not stated] Athens Comes of Age: 5–7. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Shear, T. L., Jr. 1995. Bouleuterion, Metroon and the Archives at Athens. In M. H. Hansen and K. Raaflaub (ed.), Studies in the Ancient Greek Polis (C.P.C. Papers ii. Historia Einzelschriften xcv): 157–190. Stuttgart: Steiner. Shear, T. L., Jr. 2016. Trophies of Victory: Public Building in Periklean Athens. Princeton University Press for Princeton University Department of Art and Archaeology. Stroud, R. S. 2006. The Athenian Empire on Stone. Athens: Greek Epigraphic Society. Thompson, H. A. 1940. The Tholos of Athens and Its Predecessors (Hesperia Supplement 4). Baltimore: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Thompson, H. A. 1962. The Athenian Agora: A Guide to the Excavation and Museum, 2nd edition. Athens: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Thompson, H. A. and R. E. Wycherley 1972. The Athenian Agora, xiv. The Agora of Athens. Princeton: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Townsend, R. F. 1995. The Square Peristyle and Its Predecessors. In A. L. Boegehold et al., The Athenian


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Agora, xxviii. The Lawcourts at Athens: 104–113. Princeton: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Tracy, S. V. 2016. Athenian Lettering of the Fifth Century b.c. Berlin: de Gruyter. Travlos, J. 1971. Pictorial Dictionary of Ancient Athens. London: Thames and Hudson for German Archaeological Institute.

Trevett, J. 1990. History in [Demosthenes] 59. In CQ n.s. 40: 407–420. Walsh, J. 1986. The Date of the Athenian Stoa at Delphi. In AJA n.s. 90: 319–336. Whitley, A. J. M. 2001. The Archeology of Ancient Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.


John Boardman at 90: ‘New’ Archaeology or ‘Old’? Confessions of a Crypto-Archaeologist1 Paul Cartledge2 It1is2the thesis of this paper that, while textual and archaeological evidence each have their strengths and weaknesses and each when combined can complicate the interpretation of the other, our understanding of any given time and place in the ancient Greek world is distinctly deeper and more nuanced when the two are brought into dialogue with each other. Yet ancient Greek history and classical archaeology have run, most of the time, on largely parallel tracks: what can and should be done to get them to cross more often? In what follows, thanks mainly to the originating context of this essay, I adopt, with all due apologies, a partly autobiographical approach.

My doctoral thesis, ‘Early Sparta c. 950-650 BC: an archaeological and historical study’, was delayed in its completion by teaching commitments successively in Oxford, Coleraine (New University of Ulster) and Dublin (Trinity College); it was eventually submitted in 1975 and co-examined by George Forrest (later to serve as Oxford’s Wykeham Professor of ancient Greek history) and Martin Robertson (the then Lincoln Professor of Classical Archaeology). A much revised and augmented version was published in 1979 by Routledge & Kegan Paul (as the house then was configured) in Professor Ron Willetts’s ‘States and Cities of Ancient Greece’ series: Sparta & Lakonia. A Regional History 1300-362 BC. I had earned my spurs as what John liked to call a ‘cryptoarchaeologist’. 1979 was also the year that I started teaching at John’s original university alma mater. I remained in post at Cambridge until 2014, when I retired as the inaugural A.G. Leventis Professor of Greek Culture.

Autobiography I first met John Boardman in 1969, during my final year as an undergraduate member of New College, Oxford, reading Literae Humaniores (‘Greats’). Memory can play false, but my firm recollection – and it sorts with the fact that John has never been one to waste time over small talk - is that almost his first word to me was ‘Sparta’. We agreed that, if all went well with my Finals, I should embark under his supervision on an archaeological-historical doctoral thesis on that important ancient Greek polis, for in so doing I would be following in the admired wake of my good friend John Salmon, author (later) of the unsuperseded Wealthy Corinth (O.U.P, 1984), and more distantly, that of John’s very first Oxford doctoral pupil, Anthony Snodgrass (of whom, more below).

My strictly archaeological manifestations have been few. In 1986 I deputised for an indisposed Robert Cook (Laurence Professor of Classical Archaeology emeritus at Cambridge, and a former teacher of John’s) at the Centenary celebrations of the British School at Athens – my invocation of ‘Yannis Pinakanthropos’ (a bastardized Greek version of ‘John Boardman’) raised quite a laugh. 2000 saw the publication of one of the several Festschriften by which John has been honoured over the years: it is in Periplous that my one and only strictly ‘archaeological’ publication appeared, of a late Archaic, inscribed bronze figurine of a ram (now in Cambridge University’s Fitzwilliam Museum). Since early 2017 I have been Honorary Keeper in the Antiquities Department of that great Museum, thanks partly to another former doctoral student of John’s, and its former Keeper, Dr Lucilla Burn.

This was the historical-archaeologist John Boardman of The Greeks Overseas (1st edn, 1964; the 2nd edn was published in 1973, when I was halfway through my DPhil research), the excavator of Emborio on Chios and Tocra (ancient Greek Taucheira) on the coast of Libya, and not the art-historical John Boardman of, say, Greek Gems and Finger-Rings (Thames & Hudson, 1970). The Greeks Overseas (now in its 4th edition, 1999) and his essay Preclassical (1967) remain my favourite two books of John’s: I think I have read almost all of them, including some not as yet published. It was also while I was a doctoral student of his – and not before - that I first attended John’s undergraduate art-historical lectures. Those on Archaic sculpture are, I think, some of the best lectures I have ever attended, pedagogically speaking, on any subject; a good flavour of them is happily preserved in one of his invaluable series of massively illustrated handbooks, Greek Sculpture: the Archaic Period (Thames & Hudson, 1978).

John and I disagree strongly on only a few things – among them the proper home of the so-called ‘Elgin Marbles’ in the British Museum, and the ‘hellenicity’ of Alexander the Great (I borrow the term from an excellent book of that title by Jonathan Hall, a former doctoral student of Snodgrass, whose outstanding PhD thesis I co-examined) – but in the grand scheme of things these are relatively trivial. What matters is that I would not have had much of a career but for ‘Uncle John’; indeed I owe him almost everything, so far as my career is concerned. And my debt is unrepayable - no matter how long he (or I) lives. The present essay, though prompted by admiration, will do little or nothing to even up the ledger. Great Divides? Rival (Mainly Cambridge) Genealogies

This essay is a considerable expansion of my brief remarks delivered at the Gulbenkian Foundation in Lisbon under the title ‘Greek History and Archaeology’ on May 4th 2017. Huge thanks to our organisers for their generous invitation, intellectually productive initiative and magnificent hospitality. Thanks too to Paul Christesen for his critical comments and support. 2  [email protected], Clare College, Cambridge 1

There have been several notorious Cambridge intellectual standoffs over the years: e.g., C.P. Snow versus F.R. Leavis (the ‘two cultures’ debate), and Colin McCabe versus Christopher Ricks (the ‘old’ English criticism and the ‘new’), and that’s just within the university’s English Faculty. Within History,


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

one could cite the vigorous riposte to poststructuralist/ postmodernist historiography by (Sir) Geoffrey Elton (son of classical historian Victor Ehrenberg), or Richard Evans’s considerably more temperate and measured response, In Defence of History - in defence, that is, of how he understands and practises ‘history’.

I tried to capture and to moderate some of this argument in a think-piece I was invited to write for the Times Literary Supplement: ‘A new classical archaeology?’ TLS, 12 September 1986: 1011-12. But I was rather uncomfortably aware that the fallout from that dispute was not merely academic, but might also take on a personal dimension. As in the case of the contemporary 1970s/1980s quarrel between my undergraduate ancient history tutor at New College Oxford (G.E.M. de Ste. Croix) and the incumbent of the Cambridge Ancient History chair (Moses Finley) – a dispute over methodology as well as ideology – I strove to achieve some sort of reconciliation between my former doctoral supervisor and his most distinguished former doctoral pupil (Snodgrass).

Both ‘archaeology’ and ‘history’ need, of course, to be examined critically, that is both conceptually and pragmatically. As a self-defined historian, I begin with ‘History’. In David Cannadine’s 2001 collection What Is History Now?, riffing on E.H. Carr’s Cambridge Trevelyan lectures published as What Is History?, I made an attempt at situating ‘social’ history in a broad intellectual and disciplinary context, commenting that for most purposes ‘social’ had by then ceded pride of place to ‘cultural’ history - a development I wasn’t myself at all averse to, as the title I chose for my Cambridge Leventis chair in 2008 (the A.G. Leventis Professorship of Greek Culture) bears witness. This year of 2017, according to the Western calendar, is perhaps the ‘father of History’ Herodotus’s 2500th birthday – and I’m going to be celebrating him in various milieux, precisely as a historian of culture and indeed cultures. What one understands by ‘history’ is of course key to the topic of this essay. Herodotus’s inclusivity and broadmindedness offer substantial clues and a model to follow, as I have tried to show for example in my recent introduction to a new translation of the Histories, by Tom Holland. To take another ad hominem example, ancient Greek democracy – or rather, democracy in ancient Greece – was essentially a matter of culture and society and not just of political institutions and ideology.

Probably without achieving any major success, to be honest, although Anthony and I did both appear in the Festschrift for (by now Sir John) Boardman that Anthony co-edited (with John Prag and Gocha Tsetskhladze): PERIPLOUS. Papers on Classical Art and Archaeology presented to Sir John Boardman (Thames & Hudson, 2000). In any case, anything I might have said on the conceptual-theoretical side was almost immediately overtaken by Anthony’s An Archaeology of Greece: the Present State and Future Scope of a Discipline (University of California Press, 1987), the book of his Sather Lectures at Berkeley. This major volume, together with the five essays collected in Part I (‘Credo’) of his Archaeology and the Emergence of Greece (Edinburgh University Press, 2006), constitute his most major contributions towards reorienting the theoretical approach to and constructions of Classical Archaeology. The effects of his research and teaching may be sampled most satisfactorily in the careers of those above-mentioned former Cambridge doctoral pupils of his, who between them have transformed utterly what the term ‘Classical Archaeology’ can imply and instantiate. But there may still be something useful to add.

Archaeology too, outside as well as inside Cambridge, has had its ‘great divides’ – part-methodological, part-ideological, and in good (or bad) part no doubt purely personal; and the late 1950s-1980s saw a particularly fierce, almost binary division and opposition within Classical Archaeology between (so to say) the old-style qualitative connoisseurship wallahs and the brand-new, thrusting, quantitative fieldsurvey johnnies: the former concerned principally with matters of style, typology and taste, the latter interested not so much or at all in the aesthetics of style let alone in treasure-hunting or even in event-oriented archaeology, but rather in the earthy factors and vectors of quantitative/ serial material production and long-term everyday styles of living by whole communities or at least by the majority of ‘ordinary’ people, including both the relatively empowered poor citizenry and the dispossessed unfree.

Archaeologies old and new Besides the conventional understanding of the term as both a practical and a theoretical engagement with the material, non-verbal remains of the past, there is an alternative mode of understanding or reconfiguring ‘Archaeology’ by way of what has come to be called ‘reception’ studies, itself an increasingly potent sub-field within Classical and Ancient Greek studies more generally. The aim of this metagenre is to throw light on how and why archaeologists did and do what they did and do, how their work has been and is received and above all how it has been and is used – and abused – politically. Hence, for instance, the just published collection that I have co-edited (with Sofia Voutsaki, formerly of Athens and Cambridge now of Groningen) entitled Ancient Monuments and Modern Identities: Archaeology’s contribution to the creation of ethnic, national and social identities in19th and 20th century Greece. This volume is based on a conference held actually in Cambridge. Its contents include ‘Archaeology and Politics: the Greek-German Olympia excavations treaty, 18691875’ by Thanassis Bohotis, and ‘The Hellenization of the prehistoric past: the search for Greek identity in the work of Christos Tsountas’, by Sofia Voutsaki. For a specific instance of the interpretation, uses, and appropriation of a particular – ‘Minoan’ – archaeological past, one might compare Yannis Hamilakis’s and Nicoletta Momigliano’s 2006 collection, Archaeology and European Modernity (reviewed by John Cherry, BMCR 2007.07.36). As the Italian philosopher Benedetto Croce

No doubt the dichotomy as posed above is too crude, polarised and binary, but very broadly speaking one might distinguish between, on the one hand or side, Classical Archaeology as Connoisseurship and, on the other, Classical Archaeology as – as it were – historicised Prehistoric Archaeology. For the former one might invoke for instance the work of Donna Kurtz, Lucilla Burn, and Olga Palagia (doctoral pupils of John Boardman) and Nigel Spivey (a pupil of Robert Cook). For the latter, there is a genealogy traceable back to David L. Clarke (Analytical Archaeology, 1968) and Colin Renfrew (The Emergence of Greek Civilisation, 1972) via Snodgrass (as above) to John Cherry (pupil of Renfrew), Paul Halstead, Robin Osborne, Ian Morris, James Whitley, Jonathan Hall, and Susan Alcock (pupils of Snodgrass).


Paul Cartledge – John Boardman at 90: ‘New’ Archaeology or ‘Old’? Confessions of A Crypto-Archaeologist

Ways Forward?

once said, all history is contemporary history – and perhaps that is as true of much archaeology as well.

I take my rather cautious lead from a sort of ‘Cambridge’ view put forward in 1971 by Moses Finley, then the Professor of Ancient History at Cambridge, ‘Archaeology and History’, first published in Daedalus and republished in his methodological collection The Use and Abuse of History (1975, 1986). Several scholars, especially archaeologists, have taken strong issue with this paper, both on the grounds that Finley himself was not at all familiar with actual archaeological data and because they believe one can and should do an awful lot more, historiographically speaking, with material remains than Finley himself believed possible or perhaps considered desirable. I share those reservations about Finley’s essay, but I myself also share some of Finley’s deepest reservations about the potential utility for properly historical analysis and explanation of ‘mute’, non-textual data: in particular the reservation that – quite apart from the hazards of their survival and retrieval – purely material data cannot and do not in and of themselves straightforwardly reveal or correspond one-to-one with the structures of political and social power that ultimately produced them. Moreover, they can – and in the case of my own research area of early-historical Sparta they do - throw up new problems either independently of any written evidence or because they complicate interpretation of the admittedly defective written sources, in spades, if you’ll pardon the pun.

Archaeology also embraces Art History. Within that field I choose for selective mention just three, recent illustrations, each chosen because their respective author’s concerns range far beyond aesthetics and style into social, economic and especially political history. Vincent Azoulay, already well known for his wide-ranging research on Xenophon and his acute dissection of the reputation of Pericles in antiquity and down to the present day, published in 2015 a study of Les Tyrannicides, that is the statuary representations in bronze and other media of the two Athenians who were hailed, indeed worshipped as ‘tyrant-slayers’ for having killed Hipparchus the younger brother of Hippias in about 514 BC. In fact (if it is a fact), Hipparchus was not the tyrant ruler of Athens – that, according to the disabused Thucydides, was Hippias. But the fledgling Athenian democracy quite anachronistically fastened upon the killing of Hipparchus as the originary, founding moment and action of freedom and democracy for Athens, and Persian emperor Xerxes knew exactly what damage he was doing to Athenian democratic amour-propre when in 480 he had the original bronze pair of statues, the first such representations of purely human beings to be erected officially in the Athenian Agora, removed and transported dishonorifically to his capital city of Susa. This is a tale with the deepest resonances – for Greek and Athenian religious ideas of heroisation, of iconography, and of cultural politics, above all. Azoulay tells it with great aplomb, and I was honoured to be invited to contribute a foreword to the English translation published by the Oxford University Press, New York (2017).

I come therefore finally to ‘Archaeohistory’, as that term is currently defined in the ‘Oxford History of the Archaic Greek World’ (O.U.P., New York), a large-scale project of which Professor Paul Christesen (Dartmouth College, USA) and I are the co-directors. When it is finished, the OHAGW will consist of 30 or so essay-studies of the different poleis, regions and sanctuary sites of Archaic Hellas or the world of the Hellenes (from the pillars of Herakles to Phasis, according to one ancient definition) between c. 800 and 450 BCE. Each study will be about 35,000 words, with the exception of the two lead studies of Athens and Sparta respectively. Those will be considerably longer (double or more). Robin Osborne is writing the study of Archaic Athens , Paul Christesen and I that of Archaic Sparta and Laconia (and we are also editing all of the other studies).

My second illustration is Rachel Kousser’s The Afterlives of Greek Sculpture. Interaction, Transformation, and Destruction (Cambridge U.P., 2017), chosen partly also because its rich and complex subject-matter embraces the so-called ‘Tyrannicides’. Alain Schnapp once asked why the Greeks needed images; that question has a particular application to their massive production and consumption of statuary, especially at a large – lifesize or overlifesize – scale. (I leave aside the equally formidable production of statuettes, commonly referred to as figurines, whether in ivory, bone, lead, bronze or most abundantly of all terracotta.) Kousser makes a good stab at answering it. Developing ideas first broached in her Hellenistic and Roman Ideal Sculpture: the Allure of the Classical (C.U.P., 2008), she not only sets the destruction of statues (a highly topical subject in the real world of politics right now) within its broader cultural contexts but also illuminates the vexed issue of the creation of a Hellenic cultural identity.

In an earlier version of our project’s overall prospectus we informed potential contributors that all of the essays would employ a particular methodology that we have chosen to call archaeohistory, as it designates explicitly a distinctive methodological approach that takes archaeology and history to be symbiotic disciplines. The nature of the evidence for the ancient Greek world is such that Classicists have long been unusually open to approaches that combine archaeology and history, although the nature of the written evidence for Archaic Hellas does pose special challenges. OHAGW, we continued, will build upon the established tradition of combining archaeological and historical approaches, and our hope is that it will facilitate further work along the same lines by making it easier to access detailed explorations and careful interpretations of the archaeological and textual evidence for a range of different sites and regions. We have chosen the term ‘archaeohistory’ to describe the approach to be pursued because we feel it better describes our goals than any of the other obvious alternatives, such as ‘historical archaeology’ or ‘crypto-archaeology’. The

Straddling Art History, Archaeology and History, and likewise contributing to our understanding of identity in the ancient Greek world, is my third example: Mireille M. Lee’s Body, Dress and Identity in Ancient Greece (Cambridge, 2015). ‘Ancient’ means here Archaic and Classical, and the social-scientific approach adopted lends itself to cross-fertilisation with other periods and parallel approaches. In summary, by applying modern dress-theory to the ancient evidence, both textual and archaeological, this rich book suggestively and plausibly reconstructs the variety of social meanings attached in ancient Greece to the dressed human body. And the undressed, or nude, body too: the index entry under ‘nudity’ aptly reads ‘See body as dress’.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

combination of terms associated with both disciplines into a single word neatly symbolizes what we hope to achieve: to fuse together archaeology and history if not seamlessly at least compatibly and productively.

Archaeology is here presented and advocated for as not (merely) the handmaid (a ‘Hilfsmittel’) of Ancient History but as its essential and indispensable partner. The first chapter is therefore aptly titled ‘Classical Archaeology: the ‘Handmaid of History’?’ and the final section of the final chapter ‘Bridging the ‘Great Divide’. That is the informing spirit also of the OHAGW.

We strongly encourage contributors to understand archaeological and historical material in broad terms and to include any body of evidence that can provide insight into the Greek world during the Archaic period. For the purposes of this project, archaeology is taken to extend far beyond pottery, and history far beyond the narrative historians of the fifth and fourth centuries BCE. Further reflection has prompted a series of editorial injunctions and recommendations directed to signed-up contributors. In addition to an introduction and conclusion, each essay should include eleven distinct sections: (1) sources, (2) natural setting (description of topography, climate, etc.), (3) material culture (including settlement patterns), (4) political history, (5) legal history, (6) diplomatic history (external relations of all kinds including warfare), (7) economic history, (8) familial/demographic history (including education), (9) social customs and institutions, (10) religious customs and institutions, (11) cultural history.

I trust that our revered nonagenarian honorand, Professor Sir John Boardman, will approve. References Anderson, Maxwell L. 2017 Antiquities. What Everyone Needs to Know. Oxford Azoulay, Vincent 2014 Les tyrannicides d’Athènes: vie et mort de deux statues. Paris (English translation, by Janet Lloyd, OUP/NY, 2017). Bintliff, John and Keith Rutter eds 2016 The Archaeology of Greece and Rome. Studies in honour of Anthony Snodgrass. Edinburgh Cannadine, David ed. 2002 What Is History Now? Basingstoke (pb. 2004) Cartledge, Paul 1986 ‘A new classical archaeology?’ TLS, 12 September 1986: 1011-12 Cartledge, Paul 2000 ‘‘To Poseidon the Driver’: an ArkadoLakonian ram dedication’ in G.R. Tsetskhladze et al. eds. Periplous. Papers on Classical Art and Archaeology presented to Sir John Boardman. London: 60-67 Cartledge, Paul 2002 ‘What is Social History?’ in Cannadine ed. 19-35 Cartledge, Paul 2016 ‘Anthony McElrea Snodgrass: A Personal Appreciation’ in Bintliff & Rutter eds: 442-6 Cartledge, Paul & Sofia Voutsaki eds 2017 Ancient Monuments and Modern Identities: the history of archaeology in 19th- and 20th-century Greece. Abingdon-on-Thames Clarke, David L. 1968 Analytical Archaeology. London Cook, Robert M. 1959 ‘Die Bedeutung der bemalten Keramik’ JdI 74: 114-23 Finley Moses I. 1975/1986 ‘Archaeology and history’, Daedalus (Winter 1971), repr. in The Use and Abuse of History, 2nd edn. London: 87-102 Hall, Jonathan 2004 Hellenicity. Between ethnicity and culture. Chicago Hall, Jonathan 2014 Artifact & Artifice. Classical Archaeology and the Ancient Historian. Chicago Hamilakis, Yannis and Nicoletta Momigliano eds 2006 Archaeology and European Modernity: Producing and Consuming the ‘Minoans’ (Creta Antica 7). Padua Kousser, R. 2017 The Afterlives of Greek Sculpture. Interaction, Transformation, and Destruction. Cambridge Lee, Mireille M. 2015 Body, Dress and Identity in Ancient Greece. Cambridge Renfrew, Colin 1972 The Emergence of Greek Civilisation. London Snodgrass, Anthony M. 1987 An Archaeology of Greece: the Present State and Future Scope of a Discipline. California and London Snodgrass, A.M. 2006 Archaeology and the Emergence of Greece. Edinburgh

We encourage all contributors to include, in the introduction to their essay, an explicit statement about the chronological parameters of the Archaic period for the particular site/region on which they are focusing (along with a brief discussion/justification of those parameters); in the section on (1) sources, a brief history of excavations at the site/region in question and a survey of the relevant literary and epigraphic sources (with, where possible, some estimate of the nature and number of extant, relevant inscriptions); in the section on (3) material culture, a relatively comprehensive (even if brief) survey of the history of ceramics at the site/region in question and a relatively comprehensive (even if brief) survey of burial practices (tomb types, assemblages of grave goods) and how those evolved over time; in the section on (7) economic history (or elsewhere if it fits more naturally somewhere else in the essay), a relatively comprehensive (even if brief) survey of the coinage issued by the site/region in question and a relatively comprehensive (even if brief) survey of the colonies and emporia founded by the site/region in question; in the section of (8) family and demographic history, an attempt to estimate the population of the site in question during the Archaic period or a statement as to why that is not feasible; and in the section on (10) religious customs, a discussion (even if brief) of the cult of the patron deity(ies) of the site(s) in question and a listing of cults attested for that site or those sites in the Archaic period. Conclusion Arguably - at least it has been argued here – much of the best work within the general bounds of ancient Greek history/archaeology has been work that combines archaeology and history. Already, one of our OHAGW prime contributors, Jonathan Hall, has shown us the way forward in his 2014 Artifact & Artifice: Classical Archaeology and the Classical Historian (U. of Chicago Press). Classical


Some Recent Developments in the Study of Greeks Overseas1 Gocha R. Tsetskhladze2 should lump these people together as Greeks, again because they were not calling themselves that, until some centuries into the process – Ionian colonisation, perhaps.

A1few2years ago, Robert Garland published a book entitled Wandering Greeks.3 Indeed, much of the story of the ancient Greeks in the Archaic and Classical periods and beyond is one of purposeful wandering, long labelled ‘colonising activity’, east, west, north and south,4 creating an oikumene from the Straits of Gibraltar to the eastern edge of the Black Sea (Phaedo 109b). For Greek expansion in the Archaic period – and here I shall limit my comments to that period (the establishment by Athens of 25 colonies, 7 cleruchies and 47 re-colonisations in the Classical period is really the manifestation of Athenian imperialism rather than colonisation in the sense we understand it for earlier periods)5 – it might seem somewhat misleading to use the term ‘colonisation’. We continue to do so for convenience, from familiarity and in the absence of anything better (or more widely acceptable). The debate about the use of ‘colonisation’, and suggestions for some substitute term(s) have become something of an obsession in Anglo-Saxon scholarship. Scholars from elsewhere and those from other traditions seem untroubled (or far less troubled) by these terminology wars (the fine distinctions, it is clear, are more apparent to the modern observer than to ancient contemporaries or, least of all, to the participants). The Greeks did not ‘have a word for it’: they never labelled it ‘colonisation’, which derives from Latin and describes Roman practice(s), or anything else. This, combined with many scholars of antiquity lacking much understanding of modern-era colonisation (perhaps if Frank Johnson, Edward Gibbon Wakefield6 or many others were labelled oikistes it would help?), produces in some a strange state of denial. Nevertheless, it was something that happened: an event or a series of (more-or-less related) events. What other terms might we use to describe migrations of unprecedented scale unparalleled in ancient history? (In this period nearly 150 settlements were established outside Greece in the Mediterranean and the Black Sea.)7 The best I could suggest, ‘overseas settlement’, is unenlightening (and ‘settler’ possibly carries as many unwelcome connotations, and false parallels, from the modern era as colonisation – though we might debate whether either should), but at least it adds no further opacity to matters.8 There is also the question of whether we

The flight to the theoretical means that it is too often difficult, at least for me, to understand what recent writers on Greek colonisation, whatever more exotic label for it they use, are trying to say: terminological pyrotechnics demote clear presentation of the evidence to diminishing subordination. We have some information in Homer (Iliad B, 661-670; Odyssey 6.7-11, 9.116-141, 14.199-234) and in Hesiod (Works and Days 633-640) and Archilochus (fragments 7, 105 and 264) about the movement of people, but, in the case of Homer, it is very difficult to say how realistic rather than poetic this is. Even the term apoikia, which means away from house and home(land), appeared for the first time only in the early 5th century BC, as is also the case for oikistes. Some information can be found in Herodotus (4.150-158, 5.42) and Thucydides (1.24-38), but, once again, these are sources later than the events.9 At this point, let me consider the meaning of emporion. This is very important because many mixed settlements in the colonial world have been given this label or are called trading posts, ports-of-trade, etc.10 The concept and term emporion is found first in Herodotus in connection with Naucratis (2.179). Is an emporion just a place for trade? If it does not produce things, then what is being traded? Emporia are often compared with Singapore and Hong Kong, which were not mere entrepôts, but also, and increasingly, centres that produced goods as well as traded them, valued for their location and for the talents of their inhabitants. If we turn to Etruria, we find a Greek quarter in local cities, for example Gravisca. There were probably no emporia, as Herodotus understood the term, in Mainland or East Greece. But if we look at things from a different angle, every polis was producing and trading, which means that they had trading places, and every polis was, in this sense, also an emporion. The best example that comes to mind is the Greek colony of Dioscurias. Pliny (NH 6.15) tells us that it was also an emporion of the barbarians living nearby and that locals from the distant mountains also came to trade there, and that 130 interpreters were employed to conduct business.

Parts of this paper are revised from Tsetskhladze 2015a. Linacre College, Oxford 3  Garland 2014. 4  In general, see Graham 1982; Tsetskhladze and De Angelis 1994; Boardman 1999a; Karageorghis 2002; Hansen and Nielsen 2004; Tsetskhladze 2006b; 2008; Antonaccio 2007; De Angelis 2009; 2010; D’Ercole 2012; Martinez-Sève 2012; Woolf 2013. 5  Figueira 2008, tables 1-3. 6  In respect of what became Southern Rhodesia and South Australia. 7  For a list of Archaic colonies, see Tsetskhladze 2006a, lxvii-lxxiii; Tsetskhladze and Hargrave 2011: 164-169. 8  For this discussion of the terminology, alternatives to it and attitudes behind it, see Tsetskhladze and Hargrave 2011, with bibliography, and the accompanying responses in Ancient West and East 10 (2011): 183-331. See also Gosden 2004; Malkin 2004; Hurst and 1  2 

The best examples of emporia come from the Black Sea. The settlements of local rulers and chief-men had a designated area where Greeks lived and produced weapons and everyday objects for them. Another clear example of this is Pistiros. What is now being excavated is considered as an emporion when in reality it was the residence of a local king or member Owen 2005; Tsetskhladze 2006a. 9  Casevitz 1985, 73-135; Descœudres 2013, 1-3. See also Hall 2008. 10  On the definition and meaning of emporion, see Hansen 2006; Demetrious 2012.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

of the elite (as the find of a stone chamber-tomb, a sort known from other parts of Thrace as marking a royal or elite burial, strongly suggests). This settlement has Greek-style fortifications, probably built by an architect from Thasos, a paved street and a sewerage channel. If this settlement was Emporion Pistiros, or indeed an emporion at all, it should have been receiving thousands of amphorae, Greek pottery, have a Greek quarter, etc. In fact what we have are hundreds of fragments of Greek pottery, about a thousand pieces of amphorae, mainly un-profiled fragments, and no coins until the time of Lysimachus (when the settlement fell under his control). The Pistiros inscription clearly demonstrates that the Thracian king had invited the Greeks to settle for trading purposes, etc. and had given them autonomy and protection:

years with festivals and revels. For the Geloni are by their origin Greeks, who left their trading ports to settle among the Budini; and they speak a language half Greek and half Scythian. But the Budini speak not the same language as the Geloni, nor is their manner of life the same. Indeed, excavation of the site has brought forth more than 10,000 pieces of Greek pottery. Every single inland settlement in the Pontus and elsewhere has yielded amphorae in large quantity. The majority of scholars consider that these had contained wine and oil and are evidence of direct contacts with the Mediterranean. Is this so or does it reveal a completely different situation? Herodotus tells us that, in Egypt, clay containers carrying wine were emptied at the coast and refilled with water before being transported inland (Herodotus 3.6). Shipwrecks demonstrate that amphorae contained not just oil and wine but fruit, fish and fuel. Chemical analysis of amphorae from the northern Black Sea shows that the residue found in some of them is resin.

(If anyone should swear by) Dionysos and | ... he will owe a due. If any of the | [5] emporitai has a cause to plead against another, | they will be judged each among his own | relatives, and with respect to such things as are owed | by the emporitai at the Thracians, | no cancellation of debts is to be | [10] made. The land and pasture belonging | to the emporitai shall not be taken from them. | The epaulistai shall not be sent to | the emporitai. No garrison | is to be placed at Pistiros, neither by him | [15] nor should (any) be handed over to another. | The kleroi of the inhabitants of Pistiros | are not to be changed nor handed over to another. | Neither shall the possessions of the emporitai be appropriated | by him or by any of his people. | [20] No dues shall be levied on the goods | which are imported to Maroneia | from Pistiros or from the | emporia, or from Maroneia to Pistiros | and to the emporia Belana of the Prasenoi. | [25] The emporitai the wagons | to open and close. At the same time | valid is as in Kotys’ time: | ‘I will not send over any citizen of Maroneia; nor will I | kill him, nor will I let his property be confiscated, | [30] neither during his lifetime nor after his death, | neither I myself nor any of my people. | Nor (will I kill) any of the Apollonians, nor | the Thasians who are at Pistiros, | [35] nor will I (imprison any of them) nor will I deprive any | man of his property, | neither alive nor dead, | neither I myself nor any of my people... | ...(nevertheless, if any) of the dwellers | ... of the empor- | are | if not AM- | ... (but if anyone) should commit a crime (against another) | ...... every year | [45] ....... | ............ A.11

Another possibility is that amphorae destined for the northern Pontus (and other areas of colonisation) were emptied in the coastal Greek colonies and refilled with whatever commodities the local population needed: fruit, nuts, even fish (again, we have evidence from shipwrecks). We know that fish formed a very important part of the Scythian diet; but fish were not plentiful in the hinterland, so where did they come from? It seems likely that though some amphorae contained wine, others contained fish. Jan Bouzek introduced the term ‘Greeks Overland’, appropriately in a volume dedicated to John Boardman.12 In his article with this title he presented very impressive finds of Greek pottery in Bohemia and further north. If we accept that there was a phenomenon that we (at least) can label, then why did ‘it’ happen, and when? As to when, in the past a prime concern was the relationship between Phoenician and Greek ‘colonisation’. Who was first, how did they develop, how did they relate? As the examiners would say ‘compare and contrast’. New evidence, especially from Carthage and Phoenician settlements in Spain, shows that Phoenician expansion began almost a century before Greek. While the Phoenicians established settlements in Sardinia and further to the west and south. Initially, the Greeks moved into territory closer to hand – central and southern Italy. And while many Phoenician settlements disappeared during the course of the 6th century BC, probably absorbed by the locals, Greek settlements persisted and prospered.13

Another example is Belsk, a city-site in the hinterland of the Ukrainian steppes, possibly the city of Gelon mentioned by ancient authors who tell us that Greeks from coastal emporia moved there (Herodotus 4.108): The Budini are a great and numerous nation; the eyes of all of them are very bright, and they are ruddy. They have a city built of wood, called Gelonus. The wall of it is thirty furlongs in length on each side of the city; this wall is high and all of wood; and their houses are wooden, and their temples; for there are among them temples of Greek gods, furnished in Greek fashion with images and altars and shrines of wood; and they honour Dionysus every two

There is no simple or single answer to the why, but nobody migrates on a whim. Modern research has, for the most part, undermined or disproved older suppositions and conjectures, though they continue to receive support from some, at least as contributory causes.14 The Greeks’ homeland was not deficient in natural resources, it was not overpopulated and Bouzek 2000. On the Phoenicians, see, for instance, Sagona 2004; 2008; 2011; Niemeyer 2006; Adam-Veleni and Stefani 2012. 14  Tsetskhladze 2006a; Descœudres 2008.

The inscription was found in 1990; it was first published in 1994 (in French). An English translation of this appeared in 1996 (see Bouzek et al. 1996, 205-216). An addenda by L. Domaradzka appeared in Bouzek et al 2002, 339-342.





Gocha R. Tsetskhladze – Some Recent Developments in the Study of Greeks Overseas

incapable of feedings its inhabitants, etc. And whatever the overall circumstances, the particular catalyst for any city to embark (singly or jointly, by private enterprise or state organisation) in settlement expeditions overseas was seldom the same. From ancient written sources, if we search for a single reason, then ‘forced migration’ taken in the broadest possible way is our answer. But the forces themselves were many and various, quite different for different cities (and) at different times. And how these ‘push’ factors related to and might be balanced by ‘pull’ factors is just as variable and, potentially, imponderable. To take a concrete example, Milesian colonisation was indeed enforced, a response to the deteriorating economic and geo-political situation in Anatolia: Lydian expansion, which destroyed the chorai of the Ionian cities, particularly that of Miletus, left close to famine, was followed by Achaemenid, which produced or fanned political tensions, especially in Miletus, that were themselves a sufficient spur to migration (compounded, in particular, by Achaemenid destruction of Ionian cities after the failure of the Ionian Revolt). Thus, people desperate to emigrate readily succumbed to the lure of the (almost) unknown.

One revenant old chestnut is ‘pre-colonial contacts’, and a continued belief in pots equalling people. Thus, occasional early examples of Greek pottery found around the Black Sea are immediately brought forth in the service of these two causes to provide or confirm a distorted view or chronology of Greek contacts and settlement. Greeks, especially Ionians, demonstrated how adaptable they were to the new physical and environmental conditions they experienced in their new homelands – the swampy coasts of Colchis offer the best example, for instance Phasis. Ps.Hippocrates informs us: Concerning those in Phasis, the land is marshy, hot, humid and wooded. In every season the rains here are frequent and heavy. Here men live in the marshes. The dwellings are of wood and reed, constructed in the water. They seldom go on foot in the polis and the emporium, but canoe up and down in dug-outs, for there are many canals. The water they drink is hot and stagnant, corrupted by the sun and swollen by the rains. The Phasis itself is the most stagnant of rivers and flows most sluggishly. And all the crops which grow here are bad, of poor quality and without taste, on account of the excess of water. Consequently they do not ripen. Much mist enshrouds the land, owing to the water. And for the same reason the Phasians have an appearance different from that of other men. As to size, they are large and corpulent in body. Neither joint nor vein is evident. They have a yellow flesh, as if victims of jaundice. Their voices are deeper than other men’s: the air they breathe is not clear, but humid and murky. As to physical labour, they have a rather idle nature. The seasons do not vary much, either in heat or in cold. The winds are mostly moist, except one breeze peculiar to the country, called kenkhron, which sometimes blows strong, violent and hot. The north wind makes little impact, and when it blows it is weak and feeble (Airs, Waters, Places 15).

If we exclude the northern Black Sea littoral from our generalisations, the Greeks tended to settle in areas that were already inhabited, by barbarians (another word often eschewed: at the time of colonisation it simply meant ‘nonGreek’, with no connotations of inferiority or primitivism; these, increasingly heavy, arose in the Classical period and since). Thus, establishing a modus vivendi with the existing population was of the utmost importance. This encounter was long seen through modern eyes as leading to Hellenisation, the (unironic) outcome of a Greek mission civilisatrice. Another misreading, and a term which, like Romanisation, has sunk under the weight of its own baggage and the probing of modern scholarship, though some are still manning the pumps. The suggestion that the learning process was all one way, i.e. the Greeks taught the locals, is manifestly false. At the other extreme lies Michael Dietler,15 who rejects this so completely, down-playing the role of the Archaic Greeks and minimising their achievements, that he ‘washes the baby out with the bathwater’. Throughout the whole Greek ‘colonial world’ we can see how much the Greeks learnt from the locals and the varying realities of series of complex situations. The process was bi-directional, one of give-and-take, and to the benefit of both parties: two different ways of life encountered each other and sought to establish a relationship of coexistence and mutual benefit. To the Greeks, the locals were ‘others’ with strange practices, but so were the newly-arrived Greeks to the locals. Cultural contact(s), middle ground, entanglement, hybridisation, etc.: again, the competing terminology has run away with itself and become part of the story. After all, the Greeks were the foreigners, initially few in number, in someone else’s territory – and the primary burden was on them to establish a working accommodation with their hosts and neighbours (who soon became resident in the Greek cities).16

Local settlements were situated on artificial hills surrounded by marshes and water, and it is highly likely that Phasis, otherwise a typical Greek colony with its own constitution and temple of Apollo, followed this practice. It is highly likely that housing, temples and fortifications were all constructed of wood contained – there was no stone to be had locally and the ground conditions were hardly conducive to its use. Indeed, Arrian later wrote of Phasis’ wooden fortifications (Arrian Periplus 9), existing until the Romans arrived.17 From the start, as recent archaeological investigations have confirmed, the local population often formed a part of the settlements the Greeks established overseas, as I mentioned above: the overall impression is of collaboration, not confrontation.18 First- and even second-generation colonies were small, mainly established on peninsulas (easily defended, well-located, possibilities of harbourage). Megara Hyblaea in Sicily, where Greeks and locals lived side by side, had started

Giangiulio 2010; Hales and Hodos 2010; Bonfante 2011; Crielaard and Burgers 2012; Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012; Rollinger and Schnegg 2014. 17  Tsetskhladze 1997. 18  See Tsetskhladze 2002; 2004 (both with bibliography).

Dietler 2010. The best work on Graeco-local relationships across the Greek ‘colonial world’ is Tréziny 2010. See also Descœudres 1990; De Angelis 2003; Tsetskhladze 2004; Hodos 2006, and the discussion of it in Ancient West and East 11 (2012): 191-259; Burgers and Crielaard 2007; Ulf 2009; 15  16 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

as a village, sprouting public buildings only later.19 In Spain, the initial settlement of the Phocaean colony of Emporion was on a small island close offshore adjoining a local village. When, at their request, it moved to the nearby mainland around 540 BC, the locals again formed part of its population (according to Strabo 3.4.8 and archaeological material).

For they had established a custom opposite to that of the kingdom of the Persians, to take rather than to give; this custom was indeed practised by the other Thracians as well (and it was more shameful not to give when asked than not to receive when having asked), but because of their power the Odrysians exploited it even more; as a matter of fact, it was impossible to do anything without giving gifts. Consequently, the kingdom gained great strength (2.97).

In areas where there were already strong local socio-political structures, as at Emporion (Herodotus 1.163)20 and Massalia (Aristotle fr. 549 Rose; and Justin 43.3-4),21 the nature of relations with the locals may reasonably be placed in terms of philia and/or amicitia: Greeks paid taxes, made gifts or rendered tribute to local rulers, and those same rulers employing Greek craftsmen to create their elite culture.22 This has a resemblance to the practice of the Achaemenids: skilled labour as a form of payment of taxes ‘in kind’. It certainly does not mean that the locals had been ‘Hellenised’; they used Greeks, their skills and craftsmanship to create their own identity, taking what they liked from Greek art but refashioning it as they saw fit and using it as they chose: an interplay of Greek skills and techniques and local features, an adaptability in serving local clients, that extended beyond making objects for them to erecting their dwellings, even their tombs.23 If we like, taking the material (culture) but not necessarily the culture, and creating local elite culture from Spain and the south of France via Italy to the Black Sea.24 A practical illustration of co-operation is that of Greeks and locals worked together in the same pottery workshops in many of these regions.25

In the northern Black Sea region, for instance, fortification walls were absent from Greek cities until the second half of the 6th century BC, and their construction was spurred by the coming of the Achaemenids, not by any problem with local peoples.26 Indeed, the viability of the Greek settlements so often depended on local goodwill, not just acceptance or indifference: Emporion was established in marshy terrain, hence unable to form a chora, just the problem faced by Massalia in the south of France on account of its rocky surroundings (Strabo 4.1.5). For both, exchange with the locals was vital. Step by step, especially from the Classical period, Massalia enlarged its territory and even established settlements nearby with a mixed Greek-local population. There were, exceptions: the settlers of Syracuse expelled the natives (Thucydides 3. 3), who were reduced to serfdom (Herodotus 7.155); in Heraclea Pontica on the southern Black Sea, the local Maryandinoi were killed or enslaved (Strabo 12.2.3); and some areas saw locals engaging in piracy and attacking Greek cities, but mostly much later than our focus.27

The local contexts in which early Greek objects have been found suggest that they came as gifts or tribute, not through trade. The Greeks were securing their position and their modes of life away from home, able to exploit local resources in exchange for paying, albeit in non-monetary form, for ‘protection’. They benefited, so did the locals: for the Archaic period, at least, there is little evidence of violence in the relationship. In the Classical period, when local kingdoms or proto-kingdoms had appeared, the picture was changing. As Thucydides remarks:

The earliest Greek colonial foundation in the Mediterranean was Pithekoussai (in Italy) in the mid-8th century BC or soon after.28 Recently, it has been suggested that a local population existed here before the coming of the Greeks. Within two or three generations of its foundation, all the major Greek colonies in the Mediterranean had been established, followed in the first half–middle of the 7th century (and even beyond) by more, many of which were ‘secondary colonies’, i.e. colonial offshoots of earlier, ‘primary’ colonies.29 Yet again, why? The answers echo and are as complex as those for the initial Greek expansion: overpopulation by successive waves of settlement stretching the resources of the original colony beyond its ability to support them; broader economic and politicalstrategic reasons; peaceful (or otherwise) penetration of its hinterland and incorporation of the lands of the local peoples there; political tensions and disruptions in which the losers sought a new future elsewhere, or were expelled. Again, a variety of local circumstances and a varied (local) response to them.

In the reign of Seuthes who was king after Sitalces and raised the tribute to its maximum, the tribute (phoros) from all the barbarian territory and the Greek cities which they ruled was worth about four hundred talents of silver which came in as gold and silver; and in addition, gifts (dora) of gold and silver equal in value were brought, not to mention how many embroidered and plain fabrics and the other furnishings, and all this was not given only to him but also to the other mighty and noble Odrysians.

I have written already about Al Mina,30 described in the literature as the Greeks’ ‘gateway to the Near East’– a local settlement in northern Syria at the mouth of the Orontes,

De Angelis 2003. On Greek colonisation of Sicily and the local population, see, for example, Domínguez 2006a. 20  On Greeks in Spain and their relations with the local population, see Domínguez 1999; 2002; 2006b; 2010; 2012a; Kerschner 2004; Morel 2006; Santos Retolaza 2008; Aquilué et al. 2010; Tsetskhladze 2014. 21  On Greeks in the South of France and their relationship with the local population, see Morel 2006; Domínguez 2012b; Bats 2012; Tsetskhladze 2014; and papers in Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012. 22  Tsetskhladze 2010. 23  Tsetskhladze 2010; 2014. 24  Tsetskhladze 2010. 25  See Domínguez 2007; Denti 2008; 2012; 2013; Handberg and Jacobsen 2011; Ridgway 2012; Tsetskhladze 2012; Handberg 2013. Cf. Adam-Veleni et al. 2013. 19 

Tsetskhladze 2013. See, for example, Tsetskhladze 2000-01. 28  On the Greeks in Italy and their relationship with the local population, see, for example, Ridgway 1992; 2012; D’Agostino 2006; Greco 2006. 29  For secondary colonisation, see papers in Lombardo and Frisone 2009. 30  Tsetskhladze 2015a. See Boardman 1999b; 2005; 2006; Kearsley 1999; Descœudres 2002; Domínguez 2012a; and papers in Villing 2005. 26  27 


Gocha R. Tsetskhladze – Some Recent Developments in the Study of Greeks Overseas

and as important to our understanding of Greek contacts with the Near East as it is controversial – as I have about the joint Ionian foundation in Egypt, Naucratis.31 I shall conclude with my own home area, the Black Sea, to which Greek colonisation came rather late – only in the last quarter of the 7th century, mainly from Ionia, particularly Ionia’s major city, Miletus. Ionian colonisation in general, and Milesian in particular, was a very clear example of enforced migration: the first colonists were dispatched under the shadow of deteriorating relations between Ionia and the neighbouring Lydian kingdom.32 Further colonists followed when Ionia was included in the Achaemenid Empire, even more after the Achaemenids crushed the Ionian Revolt (of 499 BC) – people fled to avoid probable death or enslavement, a very strong ‘push’ factor. Ancient written sources state that overall between 75 colonies (Seneca Helv. 7.2) and 90 (Pliny NH 5.112) were established around the Black Sea, not just in the Archaic period and, yet again, most were secondary colonies or just small towns and villages. Only 25 major Archaic primary colonies were founded, eight of them in the second half of the 7th century, the others in the 6th century BC. Written sources mention places on the southern Black Sea but, except for the principal colonies, we have been unable to locate many of them33 (and we have been unable to excavate all of those that have been located – several are overbuilt or under water, as is the case elsewhere around the Pontus).

Greek Colonies in the Black Sea 2, vol. II, 1179-1194. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Avram, A., J. Hind and G. Tsetskhladze 2004. The Black Sea Area. In Hansen and Nielsen 2004: 924-973. Bats, M. 2012. Greeks and Natives in Southern Gaul: Relationship, Acculturation and Identity. In Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012: 3-20. Boardman, J. 1964. The Greeks Overseas, Harmondsworth: Penguin Books. Boardman, J. 1999a. The Greeks Overseas: Their Early Colonies and Trade, 4th ed. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J 1999b. The Excavated History of Al Mina. In Tsetskhladze 1999: 135-163. Boardman, J. 2005. Al Mina: Notes and Queries. In Ancient West and East 4.2: 278-291. Boardman, J. 2006. Greeks in the East Mediterranean (South Anatolia, Syria, Egypt). In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 507-534. Bonfante, L. (ed.) 2011. The Barbarians of Ancient Europe: Realities and Interactions. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Bouzek, J. 2000. Greeks Overland. In G. R. Tsetskhladze, A. J. N. W. Prag and A. M. Snodgrass (eds.) Periplous: Papers on Classical Art and Archaeology Presented to Sir John Boardman: 33-40. London: Thames and Hudson. Bouzek, J., L. Domaradzka and Z. H. Archibald (eds.) 2002. Pistiros II. Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University in Prague, The Karolinum Press. Bouzek, J., M. Domaradzki and Z. H. Archibald (eds.) 1996. Pistiros I. Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University in Prague, The Karolinum Press. Burgers, G.-J. and J. P. Crielaard 2007. Greek colonists and indigenous populations at L’Amastuola, southern Italy. In BABESCH 82.1: 77-114. Casevitz, M. 1985. Le vocabulaire de la colonisation en grec ancien. Paris: Klincksieck. Crielaard, J. P. and G.-J. Burgers 2012. Greek colonists and indigenous populations at L’Amastuola, southern Italy II. In BABESCH 87: 69-106. d’Agostino, B. 2006. The First Greeks in Italy. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 201-237. D’Ercole, M. C. 2012. Histoires Méditerranéennes: Aspects de la colonisation grecque de l’Occident à la mer Noire (VIIIe–IVe siècles av. J.-C.). Arles: Errance. De Angelis, F. 2003. Equations of Culture: the Meeting of Natives and Greeks in Sicily (ca. 750-450 BC). In Ancient West and East 2.1: 19-50. De Angelis, F. 2009. Colonies and Colonization. In G. BoysStones, B. Graziosi and P. Vasunia (eds.) The Oxford Handbook of Hellenic Studies: 48-64. Oxford: Oxford University Press. De Angelis, F. 2010. Colonies and Colonization, Greek. In M. Gagarin (ed.) The Oxford Encyclopedia of Ancient Greece and Rome, vol. II: 251-256. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Demetriou, D. 2012. Negotiating Identity in the Ancient Mediterranean: The Archaic and Classical Greek Multiethnic Emporia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Denti, M. 2008. La circulation de la céramique du ‘Wild Goat Style’ (MWGS I), de la Mer Noire à l’Occident. Les contextes de réception et de destination. In Revue archéologique 1: 3-36. Denti, M. 2012. Potiers œnôtres et grecs dans un espace artisanal du VIIe siècle avant J.-C. à l’Incoronata. In A. Esposito and G. M. Sanidas (eds.) ‘Quartiers’ artisanaux en Grèce ancienne: Une perspective méditerranéenne: 233-256. Villeneuve d’Ascq: Presses Universitaires Septentrion.

John Boardman’s The Greeks Overseas is a seminal work.34 Many syntheses have appeared, in various languages, in the half century since its first appearance, but none is its equal; now in its 4th edition, it has also been translated into many languages. This short paper makes no pretence to act as an introduction to a putative 5th edition; only John, with his encyclopaedic knowledge, can write that. It is instead a modest attempt to highlight current and recent work in the study of the Greek colonial world, all of it influenced by John’s book. Bibliography Adam-Veleni, P., E. Kefalidou and D. Tsiafaki (eds.) 2013. Pottery Workshops in Northeastern Aegean (8th-Early 5th c. BC). Thessaloniki: Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki. Adam-Veleni, P. and E. Stefani (eds.) 2012. Greeks and Phoenicians at the Mediterranean Crossroads. Thessaloniki: Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki. Antonaccio, C. M. 2007. Colonization: Greece on the Move, 900-480. In H. A. Shapiro (ed.) The Cambridge Companion to Archaic Greece, 201-224. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Aquilué, X., P. Castanyer, M. Santos and J. Tremoleda 2010. Grecs et indigènes aux origines de l’enclave phocéenne d’Emporion. In Tréziny 2010: 65-78. Atasoy, S. 2007. Ancient Greek Settlements in Eastern Thrace. In D. V. Grammenos and E. K. Petropoulos (eds.) Ancient Tsetskhladze 2015a. See, for example, Möller 2000; Boardman 2006; Demetrious 2012; and papers in Villing 2005. 32  On Ionian colonisation, see Tsetskhladze 1994; 2002. On the Greek colonisation of the Black Sea, see Tsetskhladze 1994; 1998a; 2004; 2009; 2012; 2015b; Avram et al. 2004. 33  See, for example, Avram et al. 2004; Atasoy 2007; Manoledakis 2010; 2013. 34  Boardman 1964. The latest (4th) edition is Boardman 1999a. 31 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Denti, M. 2013. The Contribution of Research on Incoronata to the Problem of the Relations between Greeks and NonGreeks during Proto-Colonial Times. In Ancient West and East 12: 71-116. Descœudres, J.-P. 1990. Greek Colonists and Native Populations. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Descœudres, J.-P. 2002. Al Mina across the Great Divide. In Mediterranean Archaeology 15: 49-72. Descœudres, J.-P. 2008. Central Greece on the Eve of the Colonisation Movement. In Tsetskhladze 2008: 289-382. Descœudres, J.-P. 2013. Greek colonization movement, 8th6th centuries BCE. In I. Ness (ed.) The Encyclopedia of Global Human Migration: 1-8. < doi/10.1002/9781444351071.wbeghm260>. Dietler, M. 2010. Archaeologies of Colonialism: Consumption, Entanglement, and Violence in Ancient Mediterranean France. Berkeley: University of California Press. Domínguez, A. J. 1999. Hellenisation in Iberia?: The Reception of Greek Products and Influences by the Iberians. In Tsetskhladze 1999: 301-330. Domínguez, A. J. 2002. Greeks in Iberia: Colonialism without Colonization. In C. L. Lyons and J. K. Papadopoulos (eds.) The Archaeology of Colonialism: 65-95. Los Angeles: Getty. Domínguez, A. J. 2004. Greek Identity in the Phocaean Colonies. In K. H. Lomas (ed.) Greek Identity in the Western Mediterranean: Papers in Honour of Brian Shefton: 429-456. Leiden: Brill. Domínguez, A. J. 2006a. Greeks in Sicily. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 253-357. Domínguez, A. J. 2006b. Greeks in the Iberian Peninsula. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 429-505. Domínguez, A. J. 2007. Ionian Trade and Colonisation in the Iberian Peninsula: the Pottery Evidence. In S. L. Solovyov (ed.) Greeks and Natives in the Cimmerian Bosporus, 7th-1st Centuries BC: 34-40. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Domínguez, A. J. 2010. Greeks and the Local Population in the Mediterranean: Sicily and the Iberian Peninsula. In S. L. Solovyov (ed.) Archaic Greek Culture: History, Archaeology, Art and Museology: 25-36. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Domínguez, A. J. 2012a. Local Responses to Colonisation: Some Additional Perspectives. In Ancient West and East 11: 205218. Domínguez, A. J. 2012b. The First Century of Massalia: Foundation, Arrival of Migrants and Consolidation of Civic Identity. In Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012: 61-82. Figueira, T. J. 2008. Colonisation in the Classical Period. In Tsetskhladze 2008: 427-523. Garland, R. 2014. Wandering Greeks: The Ancient Greek Diaspora from the Age of Homer to the Death of Alexander the Great. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Giangiulio, M. 2010. Deconstructing Ethnicities: Multiple Identities in Archaic and Classical Sicily. In BABESCH 85: 13-23. Gosden, C. 2004. Archaeology and Colonialism. Cultural Contact from 5000 BC to the Present. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Graham, A. J. 1982. The Colonial Expansion of Greece. In Cambridge Ancient History, vol. 3.3, 2nd ed.: 83-162. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Greco, E. 2006. Greek Colonisation in Southern Italy: A Methodological Essay. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 169-200. Hales, S. and T. Hodos (eds.) 2010. Material Culture and Social Identities in the Ancient World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Hall, J. M. 2008. Foundation Stories. In Tsetskhladze 2008: 383426. Handberg, S. 2013. Milesian Ktiseis and Aeolian Potters in the Black Sea Region. In M. Manoledakis (ed.) Exploring the Hospitable Sea: 1-18. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Handberg, S. and J. K. Jacobsen 2011. Greek or Indigenous? From Potsherd to Identity in Early Colonial Encounters. In M. Gleba and H. W. Horsnæs (eds.) Communicating Identity in Italic Iron Age Communities: 177-196. Oxford: Oxbow. Hansen, M. H. 2006. Emporion. A Study of the Use and Meaning of the Term in the Archaic and Classical Periods. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 1-39. Hansen, M. H. and T. H. Nielsen (eds.) 2004. An Inventory of Archaic and Classical Poleis. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Hermary, A. and G. R. Tsetskhladze (eds.) 2012. From the Pillars of Hercules to the Footsteps of the Argonauts. Leuven: Peeters. Hodos, T. 2006. Local Responses to Colonization in the Iron Age Mediterranean. London: Routledge. Hurst, H. and S. Owen (eds.) 2005. Ancient Colonizations: Analogy, Similarity and Difference. London: Duckworth. Karageorghis, V. (ed.) 2002. The Greeks Beyond the Aegean: From Marseilles to Bactria. Greek Migrations and Colonies, Ancient Era: New York: Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation. Kearsley, R. 1999. Greeks Overseas in the 8th Century B.C.: Euboeans, Al Mina and Assyrian Imperialism. In Tsetskhladze 1999: 109-134. Kerschner, M. 2004. Phokäische Thalassokratie oder PhantomPhokäer? Die Frühgriechischen Keramikfunde im Süden der Iberischen Halbinsel aus der Ägäischen Perspektive. In K. H. Lomas (ed.) Greek Identity in the Western Mediterranean: Papers in Honour of Brian Shefton: 115-148. Leiden: Brill. Lombardo, M. and F. Frisone (eds.) 2009. Colonie di Colonie: le fondazioni sub-coloniale Greche tra colonizzazione e colonialismo. Lecce: Congedo. Malkin, I. 2004. Postcolonial Concepts and Ancient Greek Colonization. In Modern Language Quarterly 65.3: 341-364. Manoledakis, M. 2010. Choraides, Kerasous, Pharnakeia: Observations on Three Ancient Place-names in the Southern Black Sea. In Ancient West and East 9: 135-153. Manoledakis, M. 2013. The Southern Black Sea in the Homeric Iliad: Some Geographical, Philological and Historical Remarks. In M. Manoledakis (ed.) Exploring the Hospitable Sea: 19-37. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Martinez-Sève, L. (ed.) 2012. Les diasporas grecques du VIIIe à la fin du IIIe siècle av. J.-C. (Pallas 89). Toulouse: Presses Universitaires du Midi. Möller, A. 2000. Naukratis: Trade in Archaic Greece. Oxford. Morel, J.-P. 2006. Phocaean Colonisation. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 358-428. Niemeyer, H. G. 2006. ‘The Phoenicians in the Mediterranean. Between Expansion and Colonisation: A Non-Greek Model of Overseas Settlement and Presence. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: 143-168. Ridgway, D. 1992. The First Western Greeks. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ridgway, D. 2012. Demaratus of Corinth and the Hellenisation of Etruria. In Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012: 207-22. Rollinger, R. and K. Schnegg (eds.) 2014. Kulturkontakte in antiken Welten: vom Denkmodell zum Fallbeispiel. Leuven: Peeters. Sagona, C. 2004. The Phoenicians in Spain from a Central Mediterranean Perspective: A Review Essay. In Ancient Near Eastern Studies 41: 240-266.


Gocha R. Tsetskhladze – Some Recent Developments in the Study of Greeks Overseas

Sagona, C. (ed.) 2008. Beyond the Homeland: Markers in Phoenician Chronology. Leuven: Peeters. Sagona, C. (ed.) 2011. Ceramics of the Phoenician-Punic World. Collected Essays. Leuven: Peeters. Santos Retolaza, M. 2008. L’arqueologia grega a Empúries. Un discurs en construcció. In Annals de l’Institut d’Estudis Empordanesos 39: 49-79. Tréziny, H. (ed.) 2010. Grecs et indigènes de la Catalogne à la mer Noire. Paris: Errance. Tréziny, H. 2012. Topography and Town Planning in Ancient Massalia. In Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012: 83-107. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 1994. Greek Penetration of the Black Sea. In Tsetskhladze and De Angelis 1994: 111-136. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 1997. How Greek Colonists Adapted their Way of Life to the Conditions in Colchis. In J. Fossey (ed.) Proceedings of the First International Conference on the Archaeology and History of the Black Sea: 121-136. Amsterdam: Gieben. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 1998a. Greek Colonisation of the Black Sea Area: Stages, Models, Native Populations. In Tsetskhladze 1998b: 9-68. Tsetskhladze, G. R. (ed.) 1998b. Greek Colonisation of the Black Sea Area. Historical Interpretation of Archaeology. Stuttgart: Steiner. Tsetskhladze, G. R. (ed.) 1999. Ancient Greeks West and East. Leiden: Brill. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2000-01. Black Sea Piracy. In G. R. Tsetskhladze and J. G. De Boer (eds.) The Black Sea Area in the Greek, Roman and Byzantine Period (Talanta 31-32): 11-15. Amsterdam: Dutch Archaeological and Historical Society. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2002. Ionians Abroad. In G. R. Tsetskhladze and A. M. Snodgrass (eds.) Greek Settlements in the Eastern Mediterranean and the Black Sea: 81-96. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2004. On the Earliest Greek Colonial Architecture in the Pontus. In C. J. Tuplin (ed.) Pontus and the Outside World: Studies in Black Sea History, Historiography and Archaeology: 225-281. Leiden: Brill. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2006a. Revisiting Ancient Greek Colonisation. In Tsetskhladze 2006b: xxiii-lxxxiii. Tsetskhladze, G. R. (ed.) 2006b. Greek Colonisation: An Account of Greek Colonies and Other Settlements Overseas, vol. I. Leiden: Brill. Tsetskhladze, G. R. (ed.) 2008. Greek Colonisation: An Account of Greek Colonies and Other Settlements Overseas, vol. II, Leiden: Brill.

Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2009. The City in the Greek Colonial World. In A. P. Lagopoulos (ed.) A History of the Greek City: 143-167. Oxford: Archaeopress/BAR. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2010. Beware of Greeks bearing gifts: Gifts, tribute, bribery and cultural contacts in the Greek colonial world. In R. Rollinger et al. (eds.) Interkulturalität in der Alten Welt: Vorderasien, Hellas, Ägypten und die vielfältigen Ebenen des Kontakts: 41-61. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2012. Pots versus People: Further Consideration of the Earliest Examples of East Greek Pottery in Native Settlements of the Northern Pontus. In Hermary and Tsetskhladze 2012: 315-374. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2013. The Greek Bosporan Kingdom: Regionalism and Globalism in the Black Sea. In F. De Angelis (ed.), Regionalism and Globalism in Antiquity: Exploring their Limits: 202-228. Leuven: Peeters. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2014. From the Pillars of Hercules to the Scythian Lands: Identifying Ethno-Cultural Interactions. In Rollinger and Schnegg 2014: 215-251. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2015a. The Greek Colonisation of the Mediterranean and the Black Sea. In P. Adam-Veleni and D. Tsangari (eds.) Greek Colonisation: New Data, Current Approaches: 205-223. Athens: Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki/Alpha Bank. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 2015b. Greeks and Natives around the Black Sea: Recent Developments. In G. R. Tsetskhladze, A. Avram and J. F. Hargrave (eds.), The Danubian Lands between the Black, Aegean and Adriatic Seas (7th Century BC10th Century AD): 11-42. Oxford: Archaeopress. Tsetskhladze, G. R. and F. De Angelis (eds.) 1994. The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation: Essays Dedicated to Sir John Boardman: Oxford: Oxford University Committee for Archaeology. Tsetskhladze, G. R. and J. F. Hargrave. 2011. Colonisation from Antiquity to Modern Times: Comparisons and Contrasts. In Ancient West and East 10: 161-182. Ulf, C. 2009. Rethinking cultural contacts. In Ancient West and East 8: 81-131. Villing, A. (ed.) 2005. The Greeks in the East. London: British Museum. Woolf, G. 2013. Diasporas and colonization in Classical Antiquity. In I. Ness (ed.) The Encyclopedia of Global Human Migration: 1-14 .






Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture Iphigeneia Leventi The first almost certain depiction of a priestess in action can be found on the east frieze of the Parthenon. There is general consensus among scholars concerning the identification of the mature female figure in the middle of slab V as the priestess of Athena Polias, shown with her back turned to the man in priestly garment who is dealing with the peplos. Even though the iconographic type of this priestess is a generic one with no evident relation to the sculptural representations of the female deity she serves, also lacking identifying attributes like the temple key or the xoanon of the goddess, her identity is established by the context in which she appears, and especially her interaction with the two female attendants, who are recognised as arrephoroi or kanephoroi.1 A similar scene can be seen on the early Classical clay Locrian pinakes, where a priestess is depicted with one or more attendants, or with a host of devotees in a ritual performance.2 The most renowned surviving statue of a Greek priestess is that of Hegeso (formerly known as Nikeso) from Priene, a marble headless statue on display in the Antikensammlung in Berlin inv. no. Sk 1928 (Figure 1), dating to the first half of the 3rd century BC. Hegeso has been identified as a priestess of Demeter and Kore on the basis of the accompanying votive inscription.3 She is dressed in chiton and a voluminous mantle, her right arm and left hand lost. The main features of this priestess statue are the crinkly texture of her mantle and the long hair falling on her back and shoulders in front. Both features are highly unusual for the iconography of a female portrait statue, but accord well with the iconography of the goddess Demeter whom Hegeso served. The texture of her mantle is thought to represent the special fabric of a highly elaborate garment that evokes the famous Coae vestes.4 In fact, however, the unusual rippling treatment of the entire mantle was employed on purpose in order to reflect the realistically creased drapery of the seated Demeter from Knidos in the British Museum inv. no. 1051, a marble original of the fourth century BC.5

Figure 1. Hegeso from Priene. Berlin, Antikensammlung inv. no. Sk 1928. Photo: author.

The slightly over-life-size (1.73 m.) Priene statue, the epigraphic formula of its inscription, as well as its position next to another honorific statue (now lost) representing a priestess of the same goddesses at the entrance of their

sanctuary, provide sufficient evidence for its identification as a statue of Hegeso Hipposthenous, a priestess of Demeter and Kore. The attributes of Hegeso pose a problem. The kalathos on her head suggested by H. Schrader is highly improbable, as it is not documented in the iconography of priestesses. Furthermore, it would have turned the statue into a cistophoros, a type reserved for Caryatids in Greek sculpture.6 The other suggestions that have been put forward propose that the priestess either carried a hydria on her head supporting it with her raised right hand, or that she held a torch in the same hand.7 The first suggestion would have underlined her mission as the servant of the goddess,

The identification with arrephoroi by Deubner 1932: 12, pl. 1.1 remained influential. See recently, Meyer 2017: 235-240, fig. 130. Palagia 2008: 33, identified the two maidens as kanephoroi . Cf. Mantis 1990: 79-80, pl. 33a, and 78-80, pl. 33b, on the identification of the priestess. 2  Kaufmann-Samaras and Szabados 2004: 436-437, nos. 153a-b, with drawings. Marroni and Torelli 2016: 54-58, figs. 34-37, recognizing the scene as a kind of peplophoria. 3  Schrader: in Wiegand and Schrader 1904: 149-151, figs. 118-120; Mantis 1990: 98-99, fig. 44b; Connelly 2007: 137-139, fig. 5.12; Dillon 2010: 77-78, n. 318, and 124-126, fig. 2 (cast) and 65 (back view). On the new reading of the priestess’ name as Hegeso, Queyrel 2016: 166, fig. 145. Cf. (K. Hallof). 4  See Connelly 2007: 137-138 with n. 91. 5  Ridgway 1997: 332-333, pl. 79a-c. 1 

Schrader: in Wiegand and Schrader 1904: 151. On Caryatids, Stephanidou-Tiveriou 2007: especially 500-502, figs. 5-7, 10; Palagia 2016: figs.1-3, 10-11. 7  A torch was suggested by Kron 1996: 148. 6 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Aristonoe from Rhamnous. Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. no. 232. Detail: Head. Photo: author. of grain and poppies.9 The torch as an attribute of Hegeso, priestess of Demeter and Kore, is a more plausible suggestion, since a large circular hole for its insertion once existed on the right side of the upper part of her base, only evident today as a break on its surface.10 Alternatively, she may have held a long scepter as priestesses can appropriate divine attributes.11 Let us now proceed to the late Hellenistic period to observe the statue of another known priestess, that of the Athenian Aristonoe (Figure 2) who served the mighty goddess Nemesis, worshipped in the provincial sanctuary in the northeastern coast of Attica at the deme of Rhamnous. This life-size female statue was found almost intact together with its inscribed base during the excavations of the smaller Archaic temple of Nemesis at Rhamnous, and was transferred to the National Archaeological Museum of Athens inv. no. 232, where it remains today. When it was found in 1891, the hand of the now missing inserted right forearm held a small phiale.12

Figure 2. Aristonoe from Rhamnous. Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. no. 232. Photo: author. in view of the hydriaphoroi terracotta statuettes representing female votaries that were widely diffused in the Greek world, serving as votive offerings in several of Demeter and Kore’s sanctuaries.8 The second would have emphasized instead her godlike image in view of her comparison to the Eleusinian deities she served. Another example of such godlike attributes is offered by depictions of female devotees of Demeter on grave reliefs from Smyrna dating to the later Hellenistic period. The devotees on these grave reliefs are portrayed standing next to a large torch, and occasionally hold shafts

Klöckner 2013: especially 317, figs. 1-15. Schrader: in Wiegand and Schrader 1904: fig. 118; Connelly 2007: fig. 5.12; Dillon 2010: 78. 11  Like the priestess of the Argive Hera bearing a temple key and scepter on an Attic red-figure hydria by the Agrigento Painter in Boston, Museum of Fine Arts inv. no. 08.417: Connelly 2007: 71-72 with n. 24, 82, fig. 3.3; Ridgway 1990: 211-212, suggested a scepter for Hegeso. 12  Stais 1891: 53-55, fig. on p. 46, pls. 3-5; Mantis 1990: 103, 109, pl. 46β; Connelly 2007: 145-146, 234, fig. 5.14; Dillon 2010: 76-77, 106-108, fig. 1 (left-right as on the cover), 46-47; Cf. Keesling 2012: 498 n. 107, 9 


See Mantis 1990: 98-99 with n. 425, pl. 44b. Cf. the discussion in Connelly 2007: 137-138. Recently also, Queyrel 2016: 166-167. 8 


Iphigeneia Leventi – Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture

Figure 4. Attic Grave Relief of Hieron from Rhamnous. Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. no. 833. Detail. Head of Lysippe. Photo: D-DAI-ATH-NM 4665, Eva Maria Czakó.

Figure 5. Attic grave relief of Hieron from Rhamnous. Athens, National Archeological Museum inv. no. 833. Detail. Head of Lysippe. Photo: D-DAI-ATH-NM 4666, Eva Maria Czakó.

According to the votive inscription, the statue of Aristonoe was dedicated by her son Hierokles Hieropoiou to both Themis and Nemesis, who were venerated together in the city sanctuary of Rhamnous. Aristonoe dons a chiton and a diagonal mantle that is transparent in the abdomen area, enveloping both her arms down to the elbows. A priestly strophion is visible only in the front of her head, above the forehead (Figure 3). The mature age of Aristonoe is revealed by the fact that the dedication was made by her son and is corroborated by the ‘Venus rings’ visible on her neck and the subtle wrinkles on her face.

since the right flank is thrust to the side, while the upper body tilts to the left. And last but not least, her mantle is full of the characteristic late Hellenistic crease marks.14 All these point to a date in the second half of the 2nd and /or the early part of the 1st century BC. Of interest to us is the fact that the statuary type of Aristonoe is also used for the goddess identified as Themis on a fourth-century votive relief found in Rhamnous and recomposed from two fragments: one in the British Museum, the other in the Rhamnous Archaeological Collection.15 The diagonal mantle of Aristonoe also occurs on Lysippe, wife of Hieron son of Hierokles. She is portrayed with her husband on a late-fourth-century grave relief from Rhamnous on display in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens inv. no. 833.16 The stance of Lysippe is similar to that of Aristonoe, her mantle tightly enveloping the body and revealing it as it stretches over the abdomen. Lysippe’s left arm is raised holding up the edge of her mantle in a version of the anakalypsis motif performed towards Hieron, to whom her elegant head is also turned, her right hand outstretched in the handshake gesture. It is, however, interesting to note, that she bears a priestly strophion around her delicately arranged hair, an attribute not noticed so far (Figures. 4-5). Two small

The letter-forms of the dedicatory inscription (IG II2 3462) downdates the statue to the mid-2nd century BC, whereas its traditional chronology was considered to be somewhere in the 3rd century BC.13 However, the structure of Aristonoe’s body is not cylindrical. Her sides lack depth, as her drapery lacks volume, all of them being characteristics of the late Hellenistic period, together with the soft modeling around the corners of her mouth. Her contrapposto is not consistent, on her priestly strophion. 13  Jacob-Felsch 1969: 90 with n. 281, 158, no. Ι 60 and Schmidt 1995: 257, no. Ι.1.61, date the base in the late 2nd century according to its form. Tracy 1990: 163-165, especially 165 (ca. 155); Palagia 2003: 546 with n. 42, fig. 13; Dillon 2010: 198 no. 281. Cf. Weber 1960, 128-129, figs. 10-11 (late Hellenistic period). Petrakos 1999 I: 288, fig. 201, and II, 108-109, no. 133 (3th century). Pilz 2013: 162, suggested that the earlier 3rd -century statue was reused with a new base in the mid2nd century.

See Öztepe 2007: 251, 256-257, 251. London, British Museum inv. no. 1953.5-30.1+ Rhamnous storerooms 530: Palagia and Lewis 1989: pl. 49. 16  Petrakos 1999 I: 397-398, figs. 293-294. 14  15 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

drill holes at the front, on the strophion and the hair, are either for a metal attachment or evidence of ancient repair.

accompanying inscription or her iconographic type. This is particularly true in a grave relief in the Piraeus Museum inv. no. 3627, where Kybele’s priestess Chairestrate is shown calmly seated as a young attendant approaches her from the right carrying the tympanon.24 And this brings us to the next group of monuments from outside Attica, dating to the late 4th or early 3rd century BC., where such signifiers do not appear.

Although in the case of the grave stele depicting Hieron and Lysippe the funerary epigram identifies Hieron as the deceased without elucidating on Lysippe’s identity, she also seems to have been a priestess in the sanctuary of Nemesis and Themis. The diagonal mantle is an exceptional garment primarily worn by youthful goddesses in sculpture.17 It is absent from female votaries on classical Greek reliefs, though extraordinarily enough it can be seen worn over an Oriental chiton by the female servant carrying the basket of offerings on her head at the end of the procession of adorants.18 It is indeed rare on Attic tombstones of the 4th century BC, only appearing on a handful of monuments (mostly marble lekythoi) where it is donned by young or heroised female figures.19 Finally, it is worth noting that the diagonal mantle is worn by both the aforementioned Rhamnousian women who were married and rather matronly, although the latter quality is not expressed in their sculptural representations, which suggests that the resemblance to the divine dress may have been a priority for their depiction. Furthermore, a similar case is that of the Roman statues from the Artemis Ortheia sanctuary at Messene, epigraphically confirmed as priestesses, also donning the diagonal mantle that is occasionally worn by this goddess.20

The first of these is an unusual but well-known atticising votive relief in the Lamia Archaeological Museum inv. no. AE 1041 (Figure 6). It was found in Achinos, a liminal area between Malis and Achaia Phthiotis in Central Greece, and was possibly dedicated in a local sanctuary of Artemis. The scene depicted on it is particularly elucidated by the garments shown in low relief hanging in the background, thought to be the wall of the temple of Artemis. The goddess is represented standing, holding a large torch in her right hand. Her hair is gathered in a small bun at her back, the head crowned with a stephane. Her left arm is supported by a low pillar, the hand having possibly held her bow or an arrow. The upper part of her quiver is visible over her right shoulder. She is dressed in a high-girded Attic peplos with a back-mantle. Particularly notable are the figures depicted behind the sacrificial altar with the servant and the bull. First comes a youthful striding female figure in a high-girded Attic peplos, holding out an infant, possibly a girl. A maiden is depicted in lower relief behind her, also clad in the Attic peplos, carrying on her head a tray with various offerings and holding a small oinochoe in her lowered right hand. The last figure on the left is a taller woman of more mature age clad in chiton and mantle. She raises her right hand before her breast in an adoration gesture, while grasping a small incense box in her outstretched left hand. The young woman holding the child is usually identified either as the mother or the nurse.25 I do not agree with the interpretation that this figure is the mother presenting her baby girl to the goddess on the occasion of the successful birth or in order to ensure further divine protection for the infant. A mother is never clad in an Attic peplos on votive or grave reliefs.26 On the other hand, when a nurse carrying the baby appears on Greek votive reliefs depicting families of adorants, she is set at the end of the array of mortals, dressed in chiton and mantle.27

On Attic grave reliefs of the 4th century a priestess is usually designated by the large temple key she carries or supports on her shoulder, and she is represented seated or standing, either alone, or accompanied by members of her family. The relevant funerary inscription is rarely informative of her identity or career, in most cases providing nothing more than the personal name of the priestess that is clearly considered to be enough in addition to the crucial attribute she carries, thus allowing for her identification.21 In a few special cases some priestesses carry a tympanon and are therefore identified as priestesses of the goddess Kybele.22 They are all dressed in chiton and mantle, the only elements differentiating them from other mortal women in Greek tombstones being their attributes, as well as often a hairband.23 Indeed, the temple key or the tympanon may be indispensable iconographic traits whenever a priestess is not identified as such by the

I would like to suggest that the figure in question is a young priestess of Artemis. This youthful female figure is dressed in the same garment as Artemis, the Attic peplos, and has her hair similarly arranged in a small bun over the nape of her neck. Moreover, she is attended by the maiden, who bears the tray of offerings on her head and the libation jug. The latter may thus be interpreted as the maidservant of the priestess, reminding us of the young girls attending Athena Polias’ priestess on the Parthenon east frieze. The young priestess of Artemis is of the appropriate age for serving the maiden goddess and also bears the special attire of unmarried

Leventi 2003: 59-61. See also the xoanon of a goddess, either Athena Nike or Athena Polias on a fragmentary relief from the Akropolis, Akropolis Museum inv. no. 2605+4734+2447: Brøns 2017: 370 with n. 60, fig. 119. 18  E.g. on the votive relief to Asklepios and Hygieia, Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. no. 1333: Leventi 2003: 153, no. R 70, pl. 46 (320-310 BC). 19  E.g. the impressive female figure in the middle of the relief scene on the lekythos in New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art inv. no. 49.11: Clairmont 1993: 192-193, no. 7.330. 20  Connelly 2007: 155-157, figs. 5.22-23. 21  Freyer-Schauenburg 1989: figs. 1-3; Kosmopoulou 2001: 292-299, 312-316, nos. P1- P10, figs. 3-4; Connelly 2007: 223-240, figs. 8.4-8.10 ; Connelly 2008. See also the fragmentary 4th century document relief in Berlin, Staatliche Museen, Antikensammlungen SK 881, with Athena’s Nike crowning a priestess, who holds a temple key: Connelly 2008: 189, fig.3. Cf. Connelly 2007: 95-98 with n. 65, fig. 4.7, pl. 13. She also discusses another, late 5th -century document relief in Athens, Akropolis Museum inv. no. 2758+2427 (Connely 2007: 96-97 with n. 69, fig. 4.8), which provides our earliest evidence for a key-bearing priestess in Attic sculpture. 22  Kosmopoulou 2001: 296. 23  Rahn 1986: 200, pl. 11a ; Kosmopoulou 2001: 297 with n. 174. 17 

Clairmont 1993: 495-496, no. 1.934; Kosmopoulou 2001: 313-315, fig.4. 25  Dakoronia and Gounaropoulou 1992: pls. 57-60; Cole 2004: 213: a mother. Morizot 2004: 162-163, fig, 1; Mehl 2009: 198-199, fig. 2; Neils 2009: 141, fig. 3; Dasin 2014: 67-68, fig. 15: a nurse. 26  On the Attic peplos as the exclusive garment of unmarried women and maidens, see Margariti 2017: vii and 161-165. It is not normally worn by nurses: Schulze 1998: 25-42, pls. 5-11. 27  Examples in Schulze 1998: 41-42, 131-132, nos. AW 1, 4-5, pl. 11. 24 


Iphigeneia Leventi – Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture

Figure 6. Votive relief to Artemis. Lamia Museum inv. no. AE 1041. Photo: Lamia Museum, © Ministry of Culture and Sports –Archaeological Receipts Fund. females. An ordinary maiden is never depicted leading a group of adults, but instead shows her modesty by occupying a less prominent position within the group.28 Thus, three of the four female figures portrayed on the relief, namely the youthful goddess Artemis, the young woman presenting the child to the goddess, the one we have interpreted as a priestess, as well as the young attendant bearing the offerings wear the Attic peplos, their hair bound securely in a bun at the nape of the neck. The choice of this attire and youthful coiffure by the sculptor of the relief was purposeful, in order to declare the association between these three figures.29 On the other hand, the mature woman on the left end of the relief is wrapped in her mantle and veiled. This figure has been interpreted as the grandmother or as the priestess of Artemis.30 However, the veiled head and the adoration gesture occur on married female adorants,31 hence she is probably the dedicator of the relief and mother of the child. On the other hand, the young woman carrying the child is shown boldly approaching the goddess in a manner not befitting female votaries on Greek votive reliefs who always proceed with restraint, performing an adoration gesture towards the gods.32 Her intimacy of

communication with Artemis on the relief scene points to the female figure’s identification as the youthful priestess of the goddess. Another possibly Thessalian votive relief can be seen in Hamburg, Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe inv. no. 1991.136 (Figure 7).33 Artemis is here seated on a rock on the left and depicted as a huntress, clad in chiton, mantle and a finer garment (possibly a nebris?) hanging diagonally from her right shoulder. Facing her stands an imposing woman of heavy proportions dressed in chiton and diagonal mantle, possibly an incense-box held in her left hand, while her now missing right hand could have held out a phiale or a libation jug. Two children are depicted before her, a standing girl and a toddler crawling on the ground. An older girl stands behind her. At the far back, half-hidden by the right anta of the relief is a rather elderly female attendant clad in the Attic peplos. She carries a liknon full of bloodless offerings.34 The woman in the center is matronly, almost as tall as the seated Artemis, her drapery echoing the attire of the goddess, while she is accompanied by her cult attendant. She also stands directly facing Artemis, performing no adoration gesture, but carrying cult objects. Her head was inclined, yet uncovered. The name of the dedicant inscribed on the architrave is Ἀρσίππα Εὐδοξεία, Arsippa daughter of Eudoxus, which indicates that

E.g. the votive relief above n. 18. For a possible depiction of the priestess of Artemis, Iphigeneia, in a similar type, holding a temple key on the Apulian kotyle in London, British Museum inv. no. F 127, see Mantis 1990: 65 with n. 258, pl. 27b; Connelly 2007: 14, fig. 1.1. 30  Chrysostomou 2001: 243 n. 45: a priestess accompanied by her servant. Dillon 2002: 232, fig. 7.4, thinks that the veiled figure is the mother accompanied by two female servants. 31  See Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. no. 3540: Leventi 2003: 154, no. R 74, pl. 49. 32  E.g. Brauron Museum inv. no. 32+32a+1153: Vikela 2015: 212, no. Ar 28  29 

36, pl. 35. 33  Hoffmann 1994: figs. 1-2; Vikela 2015: 212, no. Ar 38, pl. 35. 34  In Italian vase-painting, elderly cult agents wear occasionally the Attic peplos carrying temple keys: Connelly 2007: 98-103, figs. 4.9-15. For a similar liknon, see a votive relief to the Apollonian triad in Delphi Museum inv. no. 8874+1101+3815: Vikela 2015: 219, no. Tr 10, pl. 57.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. Votive relief to Artemis. Hamburg, Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe inv. no. 1991.136. Photo: Museum. she may have indeed been the unmarried priestess of Artemis shown here in advanced age as she brings the children of Artemis’ devotees to the kourotrophos goddess. Or was she a married woman referred to only by her patronymic according to a traditional formulation? 35

peplos with a low overfold and kolpos, and a mantle.36 The goddess holds a torch in her left hand and is accompanied by her deer. On the left her priestess Laodike is portrayed in the same pose, wearing a similar Attic peplos and carrying a small oinochoe in her lowered right hand, whereas her left arm is raised, the hand once supporting a missing tray or even a kanoun or liknon she carried on her head, thus bearing the cult paraphernalia of an attendant.

The third votive relief from Gonnoi in Thessaly in the Volos Archaeological Museum inv. no. Ε 274 (L 389) (Figure 8) is dedicated to Artemis Euonymos by her priestess Laodike, according to the inscription that is visible below the relief panel. It shows Artemis standing to the left, dressed in chiton,

The late-fourth-century grave relief of Phila from Pella in ancient Macedonia bears an inscription with her name: Φίλα Μενάνδ[ρου]. It is nowadays kept in the Pella Museum inv. no. 1977/1139 (Figure 9). Phila is portrayed in a frontal pose, fully enveloped in her mantle which also covers her head and hands. She is accompanied by a maidservant clad in a highgirded Attic peplos, who carries a tray with fruits and popana on her head and holds a libation jug in her left hand. This cult attendant is almost identical to the one depicted on the Achinos votive relief. In view of the attire of Phila, which is highly unusual in the repertory of Greek grave reliefs, and the attributes of her maidservant, the excavator has suggested that the relief depicts a priestess.37 Indeed, this funerary

Cf., e.g., the name formula of Philip’s II mother and queen of Amyntas III of Macedonia, Eurydike, referred in her dedications to Eukleia in Vergina only with her patronymic: Εὐρυδίκα Σίρρα. Saatsoglou Paliadeli 2000: 397 with n. 68, expressed the view that Eurydike could actually have been a priestess of Eukleia. A marble statue found in the sanctuary of Eukleia remains unpublished and is of uncertain identification. It was recognised as a portrait of Eurydice, possibly as a priestess, shown in an Argive peplos over a chiton and veiled. Dillon 2010: 78-81, with nn. 328-329, figs. 33, 60. Cf. contra Palagia 2010: 39-40, who suggests that the Argive peplos was reserved for deities and considers it a statue of the goddess Eukleia. Also, recently Kyriakou and Tourtas 2015: 364-371, figs. 13.10, 13.12, suggest that the face of the statue of Eukleia was later reworked as the queen mother Eurydike. It was deposited ritually after its destruction in a pit along with two heads of statues representing deities. 35 

Helly 1973: 186, no. 167, fig. 25; Heinz 1998: 257-258, no. 159, fig. 32. Chrysostomou 2001: 241-242, fig. 1. Cf. contra, Kalaitzi 2016: 39-40, with n. 91, who states that the veiled head and both hands covered 36  37 


Iphigeneia Leventi – Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture

Figure 8. Votive relief to Artemis.Volos Museum inv. no. E 274 (L 389). Photo: author.

relief supports the idea that the maidservant carrying the tray or the liknon of offerings defines a priestess as such, and can therefore provide evidence for the identification of priestesses with their cult attendants in the aforementioned votive reliefs. Most importantly, however, further evidence is provided by an Apulian crater in the Naples Museum where the mythical priestess of Artemis Iphigeneia holding the temple key stands before the altar with the suppliant Orestes, accompanied by her maidservant who is carrying the tray of offerings and the oinochoe, just like on the Pella and Achinos reliefs.38

Figure 9. Grave relief of Phila. Pella Museum inv. no. 1977/1139. Photo: © Ministry of Culture and Sports / Ephorate of Antiquities of Pella.

The sartorial evidence, as well as the female attendant, are of prime importance for the identification of Greek priestesses on reliefs, especially when specific attributes are lacking. Furthermore, I would also like to compare this servant with Syeris, diakonos of the lifetime priestess of Athena Polias, Lysimache, known by her statue base inscription (IG II2 3464) and from Pausanias 1.27.4, whose image, not accidentally, was set up on the Athenian Akropolis together with the statue of the priestess she attended (IG II2 3453), around the mid-4th century B.C.39 We have investigated the different means of identifying a priestess in Greek sculpture, taking into account the iconographic context in which priestesses appear in some relief monuments. We focused on special cases where priestesses are portrayed in statues and reliefs drawing on the iconography of the female deity that they served. This study thus aimed to develop certain iconographic tools to aid

by the himation are not characteristic of a priestess. Νevertheless, a fleeing Pythia accompanied by her attendant on an Apulian crater in Berlin, Staatliche Museen, Antikensammlung inv. no. F 3256: Mantis (1990: 57, no. Π 4, pl. 22) has her head and left hand totally covered by her mantle. 38  Apulian volute crater by the Painter of Iliou Persis, ca. 370-360 BC, Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale inv. no. H 3223: Mantis 1990: 53, no. I 12, pl. 19b. Cf. also Iphigeneia accompanied by her cult attendant on a lost Campanian amphora: Mantis 1990: 54 no. I 17, pl. 20a.



Keesling 2012: especially 496-497, with figs. 1,2,4, 8-9 (statue bases).

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

identification of priestesses of Greek cults independently of their attributes or in addition to them.

S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation (USA)-National Archaeological Museum, Athens, Hellenic Ministry of Culture. Kaufmann-Samaras, A. and A.-V. Szabados 2004. In ThesCRA II, 5.II. s.v. Personnel of cult. Cult instruments. Vetéments, parures : 424-437. Keesling, C. M. 2012. Syeris, Diakonos of the priestess Lysimache on the Athenian Acropolis (IG II2 3464). In Hesperia 81: 467-505. Klöckner, A. 2013. Dienerinnen der Demeter? Zu einer Gruppe von Grabreliefs aus Smyrna. In Horster and Klöckner 2013: 303-353. Kron, U. 1996. Priesthoods, dedications and euergetism. What part did religion play in the political and social status of Greek women? In P. Hellström and B. Alroth (ed.) Religion and Power in the Ancient Greek World. Proceedings of the Uppsala Symposium 1993: 139-182. Uppsala: Uppsaliensis S. Academiae. Kosmopoulou, A. 2001. ‘Working women’: Female professionals on Classical Attic gravestones. In BSA 96: 281-319. Kyriakou, A. and A. Tourtas, 2015. Detecting patterns through context analysis: a case study of deposits from the sanctuary of Eukleia at Aigae (Vergina). In D. C. Haggis and C.Μ. Antonaccio (ed.), Classical Archaeology in Context. Theory and Practice in Excavation in the Greek World: 357-384. Berlin and Boston: De Gruyter. Leventi, I. 2003. Hygieia in Classical Greek Art. Archaiognosia Supplementary Volume 2. Athens: University of Athens. Faculty of Philosophy. Μantis, Α. 1990. Προβλήματα της εικονογραφίας των ιερειών και των ιερέων στην αρχαία ελληνική τέχνη. Δημοσιεύματα του Αρχαιολογικού Δελτίου αρ. 42. Athens: Ministry of Cuture. Margariti K. 2017. The Death of the Maiden in Classical Athens. O θάνατος της αγάμου κόρης στην Αθήνα των κλασικών χρόνων. Oxford: Archaeopress. Marroni E. and Torelli, M. 2016. L’obolo di Persefone . Immaginario et ritualità dei pinakes di Locri. Bologna: ETS. Mehl, V. 2009. Le temps venu de la maternité. In L. Bodiou et V. Mehl (ed.) La religion des femmes en Gréce ancienne. Mythes, cultes et societé: 193-206. Rennes : Presse universitaire de Rennes. Meyer, M. 2017. Athena, Göttin von Athen. Kult und Mythos auf der Akropolis bis in klassische Zeit. Wien: Phoibos Verlag. Morizot, Y. 2004. Offrandes à Artémis pour une naissance. Autour du relief d’Achinos. In V. Dasen (ed.), Naissance et petite enfance dans l’Antiquité: Actes du colloque de Fribourg, 28 novembre – 1er décembre 2001: 159–170. Fribourg and Göttingen:  Academic Press Fribourg – Vandenhoek & Ruprecht Göttingen. Neils, J. 2009. Textile dedications to female deities. The case of peplos. In C. Prêtre (ed.) Le donateur, l’offrande et la deésse. Kernos Suppl. 23:135-147. Liège: Presse Universitaire de Liège. Öztepe, E. 2007. Zu den Formen der Liegefalten und eingeritzten Linien in der griechischen Plastik. In IstMitt 57: 251-264. Palagia O. and D. Lewis 1989. The ephebes of Erechtheis, 333/2 BC and their Dedication. In BSA 84: 333-344. Palagia , O. 2003. An imperial portrait from Aulis. In P. Noelke (ed.) Romanisation und Resistenz in Plastik, Architektur und Inschriften der Provinzen des Imperium Romanum. Neue Funde und Forschungen. Akten des VII. Internationalen Colloquiums über Probleme des Provinzialrömischen Kunstlschaffens, Köln 2 bis 6 Mai 2001: 537-546. Mainz am Rhein: Verlag Philipp von Zabern.

Acknowledgements: Ι thank Dr. Katia Margariti for help with my English text, as well as all colleagues and institutions for their aid in obtaining photographs or information, especially Prof. H.R. Goette (DAI, Berlin) and J. Hiltmann (Hamburg, Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe). References Brøns, C. 2017. Gods and Garments. Textiles in Greek Sanctuaries in the 7th to the 1st Centuries BC. Ancient Textiles Series 28. Oxford and Philadelphia: Oxbow books. Chrysostomou, P. 2001. Η επιτύμβια στήλη της Φίλας Μενἀνδρου από την Πέλλα. In D. Tsiafaki (ed.), Άγαλμα. Μελέτες για την αρχαία πλαστική προς τιμήν του Γιώργου Δεσπίνη: 233-242. Τhessaloniki: Ministry of Culture. Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, Faculty of History and Archaeology. Clairmont, C.W. 1993. Classical Attic Tombstones. Kilchberg: Akanthus. Cole, S.G. 2004. Landscapes, Gender, and Ritual Space. The Ancient Greek Experience, Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press. Connelly, J. B. 2007. Portrait of a Priestess. Women and Ritual in Ancient Greece. Princeton and Oxford: Princeton University Press. Connelly, J.B. 2008. In divine affairs - The greatest part: Women and priesthoods in Classical Athens. In Kaltsas and Shapiro 2008: 187-241. Dakoronia F. and L. Gounaropoulou 1992. Artemiskult auf einem neuen Weihrelief aus Achinos bei Lamia. In AM 107: 217–227. Dasin, V. 2014. Des langes pour Artemis? In Kernos 27: 51-75. Deubner, L. 1932. Attische Feste, Berlin: Akademie Verlag. Dillon, M. 2002. Girls and Women in Classical Greek Religion. London and New York: Routledge. Dillon, S. 2010. The Female Portrait Statue in the Greek World. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press. Freyer-Schauenburg B. 1989. Zum Grabrelief der Priesterin Choirine. In Festschift für Jale Inan: 59-65. Istanbul: Arkeoloyi ve Sanat Yayinlari. Heinz, M. 1998. Thessalische Votivstelen. Epigraphische Auswertung. Typologie der Stelenformen, Ikonographie der Reliefs (Dissertation Ruhr University of Bochum). Helly, B. 1973. Gonnoi II. Les inscriptions. Amsterdam : Hakkert. Hoffmann, A. 1994. ΑΡΣΙΠΠΑ ΕΥΔΟΞΕΙΑ ΟΝΕΘΕΙΚΕ. Zur Ikonographie und Deutung eines neuen Weihreliefs in Hamburg. In Jahrbuch des Museums für Kunst und Gewerbe Hamburg 13: 7-18. Horster, M. and A. Klöckner (ed.) 2013. Cities and Priests. Cult Personnel in Asia Minor and the Aegean Islands from the Hellenistic to the Imperial Period. Religionsgeschichtliche Versuche und Vorarbeiten Band 64. Berlin and Boston: Walter de Gruyter. Jacob-Felsch, M. 1969. Die Entwicklung griechischer Statuenbasen und die Aufstellung der Statuen. Waldsassen/Bayern: Stiftland Verlag. Kalaitzi, M. 2016. Figured Tombstones from Macedonia. Fifth-First Century BC. Oxford Monographs on Classical Archaeology. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Kaltsas, N. and A. Shapiro (ed.) 2008. Worshipping Women. Ritual and Reality in Classical Athens. New York: Alexander


Iphigeneia Leventi – Godlike Images: Priestesses in Greek Sculpture

Palagia, O. 2008. Women in the cult of Athena. In Kaltsas and Shapiro 2008: 31-37. Palagia, O. 2010. Philip’s Eurydice in the Philippeum at Olympia. In E.D. Carney and D. Ogden (ed.) Philip II and Alexander the Great: Father and Son. Lives and Afterlives: 3341. New York -Oxford: Oxford University Press. Palagia, O. 2016. Herodes Atticus’ Athenian Caryatids. In K. Zambas et al. Αρχιτέκτων. Honorary Volume for Professor Manolis Korres: 217-223. Athens: Melissa Publishing House. Petrakos, V. C. 1999. Ο δήμος του Ραμνούντος Ι. Σύνοψη των ανασκαφών και των ερευνών (1813-1998). Τοπογραφία Ι. Οι επιγραφές ΙΙ. Athens: Library of the Archaeological Society at Athens nos. 182-183. Pilz, O. 2013. The profits of self-representation: Statues of female cult personnel in the late Classical and Hellenistic periods. In Horster and Klöckner 2013: 155-175. Queyrel, F. 2016. La sculpture hellénistique. Formes, thèmes et fonctions, Paris: Picard. Rahn, P.J. 1986. Funeral memorials of the first priestess of Athena Nike. In BSA 81: 195-207. Ridgway, S. B. 1990. Hellenistic Sculpture I. The Styles of ca. 331-200 BC. Bristol: Bristol Classical Press. Ridgway, S.B. 1997. Fourth-Century Styles in Greek Sculpture. Madison: The University of Wisconsin Press.

Saatsoglou-Paliadeli, C. 2000. Queenly appearances at Vergina-Aegae. Old and new epigraphic and literary evidence. In AA: 387-403. Schmidt, I. 1995. Hellenistische Statuenbasen. Frankfurt am Main: Peter Lang. Schulze, H. 1998. Ammen und Pädagogen. Sklavinnen und Sklaven als Erzieher in der antiken Kunst und Gesellschaft, Mainz: Philipp von Zabern. Stais, V. 1891. Αγάλματα εκ Ραμνούντος. In ArhEph: 46-67. Stephanidou-Tiveriou, T. 2007. The Caryatid column of Nicopolis. A new Hadrianic find. In K.L. Zachos (ed.) Nicopolis B. Proceedings of the Second Nicopolis Symposium (Nicopolis 11-15 September 2002): 491-510. Preveza: Actia Nicopolis Foundation. Tracy, S.V. 1990. Attic Letter-cutters of 229 to 86 B.C. Berkeley: University of California Press. Weber, H. 1960. Zur Zeitbestimmung der Florentiner Niobiden. In JdI 75: 113-132. Wiegand, H. and H. Schrader 1904. Priene. Ergebnisse der Ausgrabungen und Untersuchungen in den Jahren 1895-1898. Berlin: Georg Reimer. Vikela, E. 2015. Apollo, Artemis, Leto. Eine Untersuchung zur Typologie, Ikonographie und Hermeneutik der drei Gottheiten auf griechischen Weihreliefs, ATHENAIA 7. München: Hirmer Verlag.


The Nude Constantinople: Masterpieces of Greek Sculpture at Byzantium according to the Greek Anthology1 Carlos A. Martins de Jesus2 1 Dedicatur Constantinopolis2 omnium paene urbium nuditate. With these words Jerome (Chron. 324) chose to refer to the foundation of Constantinople, by stressing the act of denuding other cities to adorn the new capital, as well as the use of these cities’ own nudity (their pagan statues) to dress up the new capital, thus giving the latter an overall look of somehow sinful nudity. The truth is that, from even before its dedication in 330 until its sack by the Crusaders in 1204, Constantinople featured a unique collection of ancient sculptures unrivalled by anything to be seen in any other medieval city. Constantine’s initial artistic project was continued by his successors until the sixth century, when Justinian must have put an end to this practice.3

themselves the subject of the epigrams gathered by Planudes in the sixteenth century (nowadays printed in book XVI of the Greek Anthology), searching for the information these epigrams provide (as well as the one they do not), and their meaning for the above-mentioned subject. Hellenistic and Byzantine poets had a special interest in Greek sculpture, in the works of the most famous Greek artists, as it was the case for the emperors most committed to the transfer of such sculptures into Constantinople. Such epigrams, part of what recent scholars called culture of viewing,8 depend on a narrator that functions as the single authorized voice,9 as a tour-guide for the material referent (the work of art itself), describes, interprets and even completes it, leading his reader (or his audience) in the paths of a personal interpretation. Therefore, epigrams are not extensive descriptions of the objects – sometimes not even rigorous ones –, rather the testimony of a personal way of watching and understanding them, what Gutzwiller recently called ‘an experience of viewing art’.10

Scholars are now sure of the magnificent buildings and streets of the city in its first centuries, all of them adorned with the most exquisite and rare statuary, in different dimensions and positions, always intriguing the passer-by with both its beauty and its meaning. Such was the city, very close to the one portrayed by Eusebius (VC 3.54), a space of architectonical and sculptural ποικιλία (varietas), one of the most identifying traces of the new Byzantine taste; a completely different and, as Basset, ‘newly outfitted urban core of monumental architecture and sculpture’.4

Among the sculptural masterpieces mentioned in the epigrams collected by Planudes, other sources were able to prove the exhibition at the new capital of Pheidias’ Olympian Zeus, Praxiteles’ Knidian Aphrodite, Lysippos’ Kairos and Skopas’ Maenad, while the identifications of a Pheidian Athena and a Praxitelean Eros were (and still are) the object of discussion.

The second half of the twentieth century witnessed an increased interest on this subject, inaugurated mostly by Cyril Mango’s paper,5 which already emphasised other subjects, as it is the case for the religious conflict of the exhibition of pagan sculptures among a Christian context.6 As a result of a series of previous enquires,7 Sarah Bassett’s 2004 book offered a complete catalogue of the ancient (i.e. pre-Byzantine) sculptural works held at Constantinople in late antique centuries, both in public and private spaces. While Bassett’s book accurately comments the testimony of archaeology and the different written prose sources, it almost ignores the information that epigrammatic testimonies can offer. Therefore, I propose a review of the sculptural masterpieces that, surely or assumedly, have been held at Constantinople, as confirmed by other late Byzantine prose sources, that were

On Skopas’ Maenad, considered the model of the so-called Dresden Maenad,11 a first century BC marble of an unknown artist (Figure 1), Planudes and the epigrams he collected are the only testimonies available. By confronting the information provided by the epigrams with other known works of that fourth century BC Parian sculptor, scholars12 agreed on a female frenzied pose that aimed to capture a moment of Bacchic ecstasy, probably when killing a previously hunted animal.13 The four epigrams collected by Planudes (nos. 57-60) are headed by the lemma ‘On a Bacchant in Byzantium’, the very first reason for assuming the statue’s exhibition in Constantinople, at any unknown context. There was no reason to question information given by Planudes, as it was most probably collected in the garland of Cephalas. As for its identification with Skopas’ original, all but one of the epigrams stress the live-like aspect of the marble figure, she that has a maniac spirit inside (ἔκφρονα τὴν βάκχην; μανίην 57.1-2; ἐξέμηνε 60.2) and actually intents to escape from the

This paper is part of the postdoctoral project Greek Anthology. Transmission and translation, funded by the Fundação para a Ciência e Tecnologia/ Government of Portugal (Ref. SFRH/BPD/84291/2012). 2  UI&D Centre of Classical and Humanistic Studies, University of Coimbra 3  The artistic endowment of Constantinople with ancient art (mainly sculpture) can be divided in three periods: (1) between 324 and 330, under Constantine I, starting previous to the dedication of the city; (2) from 379, during the reign of Theodosius the Great, until 420, already under Theodosius II; and (3), in the sixth century, during the reign of Justinian. 4  Basset 2004: 17. 5  Mango 1963. 6  Cf. Saradi-Mendelovici, 1990; James 1996. 7  E.g. Guberti Bassett 1991, 1996, 2000; Mango et alii 1992. 1 

Cf. S. Goldhill 1994; K. Gutzwiller 2004; G. Zanker 2004. Apud Männlein-Robert 2007: 253. 10  Gutzwiller 2004: 361. 11  Firstly, by Treu 1905. On Skopas, see Stewart 1977, and Palagia 2007: 219. 12  Stewart 1977: 91-93, 140-141; Bassett 2004: 246; Barr-Sharrar 2013. 13  Treu 1905; Barr-Sharrar 2013: 331. 8  9 


Carlos A. Martins de Jesus – The Nude Constantinople

that leans forwards (προνένευκεν 59.3) and seeks to play her cymballa for no audience, knowing of her lack of talent. One is immediately taken to consider Agathias’ referent to be a different one – one ignored both by Cephalas and Planudes while placing the epigram in the same cycle –, but the truth is that he can actually be reporting to the same statue, while composing a poetic fiction upon it, far beyond describing it. Ekphrastic epigrams can provide yet further information, as it is the case for their authorship. Assuming Planudes’ ascriptions to be correct, Paulus Silentiarius, the author of num. 57 (and model of num. 58) – who probably died around 575-580 in Constantinople – fits chronologically with Agathias’ collection, even if they describe different statues. Therefore, one chance is that Planudes had already found the indication of the presence in Constantinople in his manuscript source – i.e. the very Agathias, as collected by Cephalas – or that he made the connection himself with a statue by his time still in the city. As for num. 60, one of the many Simonidea from the Greek Anthology impossible to ascribe to the late fifth-century singer of Plateas, the short dialogue willing no more than to identify the subject and the author of the sculpture might suggest the epigram’s inscription, more suitable to a replacement base of the statue, when transferred to another city, maybe Byzantium.15 If so, some epigrammatist or collector copied from the stone and unconsciously believe it to be Simonides’. Three masterpieces of the list above (Pheidias’ Olympian Zeus, Praxiteles’ Knidian Aphrodite and Lysippos’ Kairos) are to be analysed together, as written sources confirm their exhibition at the same space in Constantinople, the private but open to visitations Palace of Lausos.16 It was the private court of a chamberlain of Theodosius II, at least by 419-20, when Palladius’ Lausiac History addresses him as the ‘guardian of our godly and religious empire’, an extremely rich man that was therefore in a unique position to acquire for himself the cult statues that were being removed from the pagan temples of the empire.17 The historian Kedrenos, in the eleventh century, mentions this building first in the context of an encomium of Theodosius I, after his death in 395 (Kedrenos A), and then after the coronation of the usurper emperor Basiliskon, in 475 (Kedrenos B). Finally, later in the twelfth century, Zonaras grieves the loss of the statues that building held in consequence of the fire that consumed part of the city in the following year.

Figure 1. The Dresden Maenad. Marble, first cent. AD. Staatlische Kunstsammlungen um Albertinum Dresden, Skulpturensammlung. Inv. Hm 133. © Creative Commons.

Note that in the quarter of Lausos there used to be various buildings and certain hostels at the place where the [cistern of] Philoxenus provided its water, whence its name. There stood there also a statue of Lindian Athena, four cubits high, of emerald stone, the work of the sculptors Skyllis and Dipoinos, which Sesostris, tyrant

temple (οὐδὸν ὑπερθεμένη νηὸν ὑπεκπροφύγῃ 58.2). We are facing a true topic of Hellenistic and Byzantine ekphrasis, namely the existence of life within a statue made of stone14 (λαϊνέη περ ἐοῦσα, 58.1), a wonder for which only the artist is responsible, not the god. And these are the only three poems that must refer to a statue identifiable with Skopas’, as number 59 seems to describe a totally different statue, at some point wrongly assumed by Planudes or his source to be the same one. On the last-mentioned epigram, the sixth-century scholar that was also the responsible for one of the garlands used by Planudes as source, Agathias Scholasticus, talks about a shy and still inexpedient bacchant (βάκχην αἰδομένην 59.2)

On the subject of the transfer of statue-bases and their replacement, see Ma 2012. 16  The exact location of the Palace of Lausos in Constantinople is a matter of debate, although it is generally accepted that it was connected to the western flank of the Hippodrome by a rotunda, and was adjacent to the Palace of Antiochos. It was also very close to the Mese, the central thoroughfare of Constantinople, which led from the Augustaeum to the Golden Gate. On it, see Mango et alii 1992; Guberti Bassett 2000; Bassett 2004: 98-120. 17  Although Lausos was out of office by 422, he may have held it again in 431 (and possibly in 436). Therefore, it must have been during this decade that he acquired at least the Olympian Zeus and the Knidian Aphrodite. 15 

For an overview of the main topics of epigrammatic ekphrasis see Männlein-Robert 2007 (with bibliography). 14 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

of Egypt, once sent as a gift to Kleoboulos, tyrant of Lindos. Likewise the Knidian Aphrodite of white stone, naked, shielding with her hand only her pudenda, a work of Praxiteles of Knidos. Also the Samian Hera, a work of Lysippos and the Chian Bupalos; a winged Eros holding a bow, brought from Myndos; the ivory Zeus by Pheidias, whom Perikles dedicated at the temple of the Olympians; the statue representing Chronos, a work of Lysippos, bald at the back and having hair in front; unicorns, tigresses, vultures, giraffes, an ox-elephant, centaurs and pans. [Comp. Hist. 1.564 = Kedrenos A; transl. Mango et alii 1992]

information on these three masterpieces, while delaying the more polemical cases of Pheidias’ Athena and Praxiteles’ Eros, as their mention in the epigrammatic corpus is still an issue of debate. A single distich of Phillipus (num. 81), the first century AD collector of another poetic garland most probably also known to Planudes, refers to the ca. 43 ft. tall chryselephantine masterpiece of Pheidias for Olympia19 (Figure 2), developing the Hellenistic motif of the statue carved in the presence of the god-model. As the Planudean lemma states no more than ‘on a statue’, no secure information can be added to Kedrenos’ and Zonaras’ testimonies, since the epigram dates from a time when the statue had not been transferred to Constantinople yet. The same is the case for Lysippos’ Kairos20 (Figure 3), whose only epigram (num. 275, of Poseidippus) develops a dialogue between the statue and a passer-by willing to know who it represents. In the words of Gutzwiller, ‘it is only by giving it voice, by representing the statue conversing with a viewer, that Posidippus makes fully possible, through language, the visual representation of time in motion. Only by the addition of words, of verbal decipherment, does time move and Lysippos’ statue instructs.’21

When he [Basiliskos] had been proclaimed, there occurred a conflagration in the City which destroyed its most flourishing part. For it started in the middle of the Chalkoprateia and consumed both porticoes and everything adjacent to them and the so-called Basilica, in which there was a library that had 120.000 books. Among these books was a dragon’s gut 120 feet long upon which Homer’s poems, namely the Iliad and the Odyssey, were written in gold letters together with the story of the heroes’ deeds. [The fire] also destroyed the porticoes on either side of the street Mese and the excellent offerings of Lausos: for many ancient statues were set up there, namely, the famous one of the Aphrodite of Knidos, that of the Samian Hera, that of Lindian Athena made of a different material which Amasis, king of Egypt, had sent to the wise Kleobolus, and countless others. The fire extended as far as the Forum of the great Constantine, as it is called. [Comp. Hist. 1.616 = Kedrenos B; transl. Mango et alii 1992]

The example of Praxiteles’ Knidian Aphrodite, represented in Planudes’ garland by no less than twelve components (nums. 159-170)22 under the lemma ‘On the statue of the Knidian Aphrodite’, is proof enough, if no more, of its fame from Classical to Byzantine times. They all develop the already mentioned topic of the carving of the statue after seeing the actual goddess, the only possible (poetic) explanation for the realism achieved. This Aphrodite, nowadays identified as the model of the Ludovisi Knidian Venus (Figure 4),23 a Roman marble of the second century AD, was the original naked version of the goddess carved for the citizens of Kos but declined by them in exchange for a more dressed-up representation. The Knidians later bought the statue, where it became the reason for an intense cult and touristic activity.24 Planudes’ ascriptions are all to pre-Byzantine poets, namely Plato-the-Young (fourth cent. BC, nums. 160-161), Leonidas of Tarentum (third cent. BC, num. 166), Antipater of Sidon (second cent. BC, num. 167), Hermodorus (second cent. BC, num. 170), Evenus (second to first cent. BC, num. 165) and Lucianus (second cent. AD, num. 163). Therefore, only among the anonymous components (num. 159, 160b, 162, 168 and 169) could one search for a Byzantine epigram.

A great, consuming conflagration broke out in Constantinople, beginning in the Chalkoprateia and spreading to all the nearby areas and reducing the public portico and adjacent buildings to ashes, including the so-called Basilica where there was a library that housed 120.000 books. Among these books was a dragon gut measuring 120 feet with the poetry of Homer, the Iliad and the Odyssey, written in golden letters, which Malchos mentioned in writing of the emperors. The fire utterly destroyed this object and both the splendor in the city’s Lausos quarter and the statues set up there, the Samian Hera, the Lindian Athena and the Knidian Aphrodite, famous works of art. [Zonaras III.231; transl. Guberti Bassett 2000] Taking on hand the more detailed catalogue of Kedrenos A, clearly Zonaras’ source, and considering only the statues of Greek gods, neither the ‘Lindian Athena’ ascribed to the Cretan sculptors Skyllis and Dipoinos, nor the Samian Hera nor the so-called ‘winged Eros holding a bow, brought from Myndos’ – believed to be the work of Lysippos – have any kind of connection to Planudes’ garland, alongside the clear identifications of Pheidias’ Zeus, Praxiteles’ Knidian and Lysippos’ Kairos (called Chronos in that text). Using the passage as guided tour,18 I start by analysing the epigrammatic

book II of the Greek Anthology (see Martins de Jesus 2014, with bibliography), besides that of the Ekphrasis of Hagia Sophia that Paul Silentiarius wrote in the late sixth century, after the rebuilding of the temple, to be performed in the day of its dedication (in 563). In fact, the only manuscript that transmits the text clearly shows marginal annotations and other scenic indications intended for the actors (Cameron 2004: 327, 354 [esp. 347]). 19  Among the many references to it, see Rocha Pereira 2009; Davison 2009: 319-404. 20  On it, see Stewart 1978; Bassett 2004: 237-238; Prauscello 2006. 21  Gutzwiller 2002: 96. The statue was not a personification of time, as Gutzwiller’s statement might at a first glance suggest, but of the opportune moment. See Maderna 2004: 347. 22  Yet, none of them is mentioned by Bassett 2004: 233 as a source for the description of the statue. 23  For an overview of Praxiteles’ original and its reception in Antiquity see Havelock 1995: 9-38; Pasquier and Martinez 2007: 130201. See also Bassett 2004: 233 (with bibliography). 24  See Corso 2007.

I use the expression consciously in a wrong way, as Kedrenos was an example of the so-called universal chronicler. Nonetheless, the existence of such texts (both in prose and poetry) with touristic purposes is clearly attested. Cf. Kaldellis 2007: 368-371. That could have been the case for the large description of the gallery of statues held at the Zeuxippus thermae by Christodorus, transmitted in 18 


Carlos A. Martins de Jesus – The Nude Constantinople

Considering the Planudean practise of first copying the components closer to his time, followed by their models, number 159 could actually be a Byzantine composition.25 It develops the two main ekphrastic topics of the contemplation of the goddess and the empsychia of the statue (τίς λίθον ἐψύχωσε; τίς ἐν χθονὶ Κύπριν ἐσεῖδεν; 159.1). The second, in relation to the statue’s nudity, might have been the subject of Christian confrontation, which could have left marks in the epigrams, as in num. 160b, where the responsibility for carving the naked goddess is transferred to the chisel and detached from the artist’s pure eyes (Πραξιτέλης οὐκ εἶδεν, ἃ μὴ θέμις, ἀλλ’ ὁ σίδηρος/ ἔξεσεν). Yet, no concrete information is given in relation to the statue’s exhibition at the Lausos, as confirmed by Kedrenos and Zonaras. That Planudes, in the beginning of the fourteenth century, mentions it in the lemma simply as ‘a statue of Aphrodite’ (ἄγαλμα Ἀφροδίτης),26 can only support the paradigmatic role of the statue by his time. Furthermore, if it was actually destroyed by the fire that consumed the Lausos collection in 476, he and his manuscript sources might have never been aware of its presence in Constantinople.

Figure 2. The Olympian Zeus on his throne in the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. Drawing by Quatremère de Quincy 1814, fig. 1.

The final two sculptures mentioned by the Planudean garland, Praxiteles’ Thespian Eros and Pheidias’ Athena – not clear which one – can only indirectly be placed at Constantinople. Concerning the first of them – in no way related to the ‘winged Eros holding a bow [and] brought from Myndos’ mentioned by Kedrenos A, rather close to the model of the Centocelle Eros27 from the well-known Eros Farnese of Naples (Figure 5) –, only some scholars dared to suggest its exhibition at Constantinople, a possibility for which epigrams are once again the main source. Athenaeus (13.591a) quotes Planudes’ num. 204 as the epigram the very Praxiteles inscribed in

the base of his statue. It must have been the model for num. 203, by the sixth-century Prefect of Egypt Julian, which Corso, without further demonstration, thought to have been composed by Julian for the statue’s replacement base in Constantinople.28 Nonetheless, in relation to epigrammatic information, the question is more complicated. If, on the one hand, later references to the sculpture are known –Eustathius, for instance, praised it in the twelfth century (Ad Iliadem 2.1.498) –, on the other hand it is possible that Julian had seen the statue in one of his many official travels, for instance at the Temple of Aphrodite in Thespiae, where Leonidas’ epigram still places it in the third century BC (num. 206).

And, according to Aubreton-Buffière (1980) 2002: 143, ‘la plus simple’. 26  Nonetheless, the syllogue Σπ, a total of 56 epigrams copied by the tenth or eleventh century Palatinus Heidelbergensis gr. 23 (in appendix to the major collection of epigrams) has in the lemma the addition τῆς ἐν Κνίδῳ. 27  For a discussion of identification, see Corso 1997-98 (with bibliography). 25 

We are facing a case where epigrammatic sources were taken perhaps too literally, without considering other metatextual data. That is why I question Corso’s understanding of χαλκεύσας Corso 1997-98: 77. For the practise with bases for ancient statues in Constantinople see Ma 2012. 28 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Kairos, after Lysippos. Roman marble relief. 2nd cent. AD. Torino, Museo di Antichità. © S. Sosnovskiy 2008.

Figure 5. The Eros Farnese (Centocelle type). Roman copy (and reconstruction). Second half of the 2nd cent. AD. Napoli, Museo Archeologico Nazionale Inv. 6353. © Creative Commons. (num. 203.4) as simply meaning ‘to shape’,29 in order to place the original sculpture (a marble) in Byzantium, as it might equally suggest Julian’s reference to an actual bronze statue, one of the several copies of the Praxitelan model that must have circulated. Furthermore, the large number of epigrams collected by Planudes on Praxiteles’ sculptures (mostly from Agathias’ garland) reinforces that artist’s rank in the market of Hellenistic culture and poetry, and consequently among Byzantine epigrammatists. The last case study listed at the beginning of this paper was that of an unidentified Pheidias’ Athena, the subject of a single epigram among Planudes’ collection (num. 157), once again Julian’s. Aretas’, Constantine the Rhodian’s (ninth century), Kedrenos’ (twelfth century) and Niketas Choniates’ (thirteenth century) descriptions

Figure 4. Ludovisi Cnidian Venus. Roman copy of the 2nd cent. AD (Restoration of the 17th century by sculptor Ippolito Buzzi. Rome, Roman National Museum, Palazzo Altemps. Inv. No. 8619. © Creative Commons.



Corso 1997-98: 67-68 and n. 23.

Carlos A. Martins de Jesus – The Nude Constantinople

Figure 6A. Athena wearing the aegis. Inscription: ΤΟΝ ΑΘΕΝΕΘ[Ε] Ν ΑΘΛΟΝ ΕΜΙ (‘I come from the prizes from Athens’). Black-figured Panathenaic amphora, ca. 566/65 BC. From Athens. British Museum, Inv. B130. © Creative Commons.

Figure 6B. The so-called Minerva d’Arezzo. Bronze and cooper. Probably from the 1st cent. AD. Restauration by F. Carradori (1785). Firenze, Museo archeologico Inv. 248 (ex. 3). © Creative Commons. meters high.34 Recently, Papamastorakis suggested the model of the so-called Minerva d’Arezzo in Florence (Figure 6B) as Niketas’ referent.35

all refer to a bronze statue that would have been destroyed in 1203 by a superstitious mob thinking that it was beckoning the crusaders who besieged the city. Scholars advocated for an identification of Julian’s referent and the ‘Lindian Athena’ mentioned by these sources with one of the famous Athenae of Pheidias, either the Parthenos or the Promachos.30 I am particularly interested in the mid-twentieth century efforts of Jenkins, who used the miniatures of two Byzantine manuscripts illustrating a statue of the goddess, no more than in the Promachos type (Figure 6A) defending the city from the invaders, to prove his thesis of the exhibition of the Pheidian bronze original at Constantinople.31 Nonetheless, as accurately concluded by Lundgreen,32 no irrefutable data can confirm this theory. Besides the absence of any mention to the shield – especially by Niketas (chap. 559-60), the more detailed account of the statue –, the aforementioned sources refer to it as standing on a base, also the case for the first manuscript analysed by Jenkins,33 a context that would be odd for a statue that, according to the preserved inscription, measured about 10

Going back to Julian’s epigram, the Prefect of Egypt that might actually have a personal affection to composing ekphrastic poetry on statues, it mentions the statue ‘armed in the middle of the citadel’ (κορύσσεαι ἄστεϊ μέσσῳ: 157.1), an expression that the French editor of the Planudean for the Budée collection read as meaning ‘Constantinople’.36 Once again, to cross the epigram’s metatextual data can be useful. If Pheidias’ original Athena (and it doesn’t actually matter which one) ever stood at the Forum of Constantine, would not Planudes (or his manuscript source), whose lemma places it in Athens (ἐν Ἀθήναις), be aware of it? He, who made sure to specify, in the lemma to num. 57, that Skopas’ Maenad stood in Byzantium? Both answers are equally probable, but not transcending the reading of the epigrams means to decide for the negative one, i.e., that it was any other statue, brought from Lindus and carved in bronze, not necessarily by a Pheidian model,37 the one destroyed by the furious mob at the first years of the thirteenth century.

For texts and the several critical approaches to them see Bassett 2004: 188-192. Linfert 1982 was the only one advocating identification with another Pheidian Athena, the Lemnia. See also Davison 2009: 283-286. 31  Jenkins 1947; idem 1951. 32  Lundgreen 1997: 195. 33  Jenkins 1947: 34 (plate X). 30 

Dinsmoor 1921: 118-129; Davison 2009: 279. Papamastorakis 2009: 219. Aubreton-Buffère (1980) 2002: 273. 37  Only Stichel 1988 rejected any kind of association with Pheidias or even a Pheidian model, standing for an archaizing work from Roman imperial art. 34  35  36 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

The guided tour this paper performed through some masterpieces of Greek sculpture certainly or possibly held at Constantinople, headed by the words of the epigrams that used them as referent for poetic composition, questions the methods for using epigrammatic sources when studying and placing Greek art in time and in space. When not mentioning the location of neither Pheidias’ Zeus, Praxiteles’ Knidian or Lysippos’ Kairos, Planudes (fourteenth cent.) and his manuscript sources, especially Cephalas (tenth cent.), appear to know nothing on the permanent exhibition at the Palace of Lausos, destroyed in 476 and therefore several centuries previous to them. On the other hand, while only the lemma for num. 57 mentions Constantinople, the others don’t sustain any reference to the exhibition at the new capital of the Empire of any Greek original. Therefore, it is possible that some of these epigrammatists were referring to other statues, carved by the original Greek model, or actually performing the ekphrasis of these models – by their times still very famous –, even if not seeing them directly when composing their poems.

Gutzwiller, K. 2004. Seeing trough: Timomachus’ Medea and ecphrastic epigram. In AJP 124: 339-386. Havelock, C. M. 1995. The Aphrodite of Knidos and her successors: a historical review of the female nude in Greek art. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. James, L. 1996. Pray not to fall into temptation and be your own guard: pagan statues in Christian Constantinople. In Gesta 35.1: 12-20. Kaldellis, A. 2007. Christodorus on the statues of the Zeuxippos baths: a new reading of the Ekphrasis. In GRBS 47: 361-383. Linfert, A. 1982. Athenen des Phidias. In Athenische Mitteilungen 97: 57-77. Lundgreen, B. 1997. A Methodological Enquiry: The Great Bronze Athena by Pheidias. In JHS 117:190-197 Ma, J. 2012. Travelling statues, travelling bases? Ancient statues in Constantinople. In ZPE 180: 243-249. Maderna, C. 2004. Die letzten Jahrzehnte der spätklassischen Plastik. In P. C. Bol, Die Geschichte der antiken Bildhauerkunst II. Mainz: 303-382. Mango, C. 1963. Antique statuary and the Byzantine beholder. In DOP 17: 53+55-75. Mango, C., M. Vickers and E.D. Francis 1992. The Palace of Lausos at Constantinople and its collection of ancient statues. In JournHistColl 4.1: 89-98. Männlein-Robert, I. 2007. Epigrams on art. Voice and voicelessness in ecphrastic epigram. In P. Bing, J. S. Bruss (eds.) Brill’s Companion to Hellenistic Epigram down to Philip: 251-271. Leiden, Boston: Brill. Martins de Jesus, C. 2014. The statuary collection held at the Baths of Zeuxippus (AP II) and the search for Constantine’s museological intentions. In Synthesis 21: 15-30. Papamastorakis, T. 2009. Interpreting the De Signis of Niketas Choniates. In A. Simpson, S. Efthymiadis (eds.) Niketas Choniates. A Historian and a Writer: 209-224. Geneva: La Pomme d’Or. Palagia, O. 2007. Skopas of Paros and the ‘Pothos’. In D.U. Schilardi and D. Katsonopoulou (eds.), Paria Lithos (Athens 2000): 219-225. Pasquier, A. and Martinez, J.-L. 2007. Praxitèle. Paris. Prauscello, L. 2006. Sculpted meanings, talking statues: some observations on the Posidippus 142.12 A-B (= XIX G-P) ΚΑΙ ΕΝ ΠΡΟΘΥΡΟΙΣ ΘΗΚΕ ΔΙΔΑϹΚΑΛΙΗΝ. In AJP 127: 511-523. Quatremère de Quincy, A.-C. 1814. Le Jupiter olympien, ou l’Art de la sculpture antique considérée sous un nouveau point de vue (…). Paris. Rocha Pereira, M. H. (2009), ‘O Zeus de Olímpia’, in Ribeiro Ferreira, J., Ferreira, L. N. eds., As sete maravilhas do mundo antigo. Fontes, fantasias e reconstituições. Lisboa: 69-77. Saradi-Mendelovici, H. 1990. Christian attitudes toward pagan monuments in Late-Antiquity and their legacy in later Byzantine centuries. In DOP 44: 47-61. Stewart, A. 1977. Skopas of Paros. Park Ridge, NJ: Noyes Pr. Stewart, A. 1978. Lysippan Studies 1. The only creator of beauty. In AJP 82.2: 163-171. Treu, G. 1905. Die Dresden Mänade. In Dresdner Jahrbuch 1905: 7-12. Zanker, G. 2004. Modes of Viewing in Hellenistic Poetry and Art. Madisson: University of Wisconsin Press.

Bibliography Aubreton, R., Buffière, F. (1980) 2002. Anthologie Grecque. Tome XIII. Anthologie de Planude. Paris: Les Belles Lettres. Barr-Sharrar, B. 2013. The Dresden Maenad and Skopas of Paros. In Ντ. Κατσωνοπούλον and A. Stewart. (eds.), Paros III. Ο Σκοπας και ο κοσμος του. Athens. Bassett, S. 2004. The Urban Image of Late Antique Constantinople. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Cameron, A. 2004. Poetry and literary culture in Late Antiquity. In S. Swain and M. Edwards (eds.) Approaching Late Antiquity: The transformation from early to late Empire: 327-354. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Corso, A. 1997-98. Love as suffering: the Eros of Thespiae of Praxiteles. In BICS 42: 63-91. Corso, A. 2007. The cult and political background of the Knidian Aphrodite. In E. Hallager, J. Jensen (eds.) Proceedings of the Danish Institute of Athens 5: 173-197. Davison, C. C. 2009. Pheidias. The Sculptures and Ancient Sources. BICS Supplement 105. Dinsmoor, William Bell. 1921. Attic building accounts. IV. The statue of Athena Promachos. In AJA 25.2: 118-129. Stichel, R. H. W. 1988. Eine Athena des Phidias in Konstantinopel? In Boreas 11: 155-164. Goldhill, S. 1994. The naive and knowing eye: ekphrasis and the culture of viewing in the Hellenistic world. In S. Goldhill and R. Osborne (eds.) Art and Text in Greek Culture: 197-223. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Guberti Bassett, S. 1991. The antiquities in the Hippodrome of Constantinople. In DOP 45: 87-96. Guberti Bassett, S. 1996. Historiae custos: sculpture and tradition in the Baths of Zeuxippos. In AJA 100: 491-506. Guberti Bassett, S. 2000. Excellent offerings: the Lausos collection in Constantinople. In ArtB 82: 6-25. Gutzwiller, K. 2002. Art’s Eco: the tradition of Hellenistic ecphrastic epigrams. In M.A. Harder, R.F. Regtuit and G.C. Wakker (eds.), Hellenistic Epigrams: 85-112. Leuven: Peeters.


Ornaments or Amulets: A Peculiar Jewel on Dedicatory Statues Olympia Bobou The starting point of my paper is the depiction of a medallion on the chest of a statue of a girl, now at the Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge (Fig 1). The statue dates from the second century BC, and was found in Cyprus during Cesnola’s exploration of the island’s sites.1 It shows a young girl seated on the ground with one flexed leg raised, wearing a short-sleeved chiton made of a fine, light material. Her hair is combed backwards and is gathered in a braid. She holds a duck in her right hand and a fruit in her left. She is also wearing jewelry: a bracelet in each wrist, and a medallion on the chest. The back of the statue is roughly worked; clearly the statue was meant to be placed against a wall, and seen only from the front.

and while the thickness of the bands suggests the fastening by fabric cords, it is just as likely that originally they were painted in gold or yellow, suggesting metal chains. In this paper, I will refer to the medallion as suspended by two separate chains or bands. This type of ornament, i.e. a medallion suspended by two chains or cords between the breasts, is less common than a medallion suspended by a single chain or cord and worn below the neck. I will first refer to some theories for its interpretation, and then explore its use, as well as its name. This ornament appears often in depictions of girls in Classical Athenian funerary monuments. Some of the best surviving examples show girls belonging to the same age-group (Fig 2).2 They are all adolescents. Their hair, either loose or uncovered, makes clear their unmarried status.

It is not clear whether the medallion was suspended by two criss-crossing bands or chains, or by a single band that was wrapped around the torso. It is carved only at the front,

Figure 1. Statue of girl, from Cyprus, second century BC. Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum inv. no GR.1.1917.

Figure 2. Statues of two young girls, from a funerary monument from Athens, ca 320 BC. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art,Rogers Fund, 1944, 44.11.2, .3. For example, the stele of Silenis, Berlin, Antikenmuseen, inv. no 1492, ca. 350 BC: Clairmont 1993: cat. 1.862; a high-relief fragment now in Paris, Louvre, inv. no Ma 4505; and the statue of a young woman now in New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, inv. no 44.11.2,3. 2 

Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, inv. no GR.1.1917. Vassilika 1998: 94-95, no.45; Beer 1994: 85; object/68662 (consulted 19/1017). 1 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

They also wear a peplos with overfold together with a mantle fastened at the shoulders with two pins. The particular combination of peplos and back-mantle has been identified as the special costume worn by the young girls who served as basket-bearers in religious festivals (kanephoroi).3 The breast ornament and its peculiar fastening is then implicitly considered as part of the kanephoros’ festival ‘uniform’.

the wearer.9 Finally, a third body chain, again hooked on two medallions, on at the front and one at the back of the wearer, comes from Egypt and dates from the early seventh century.10 In fact, the body chain as an ornament can be seen in objects found as far away as Tillya Tepe, in Afghanistan. In a golden plaque that served as a pendant, a semi-naked female figure in a himation that can be seen over her shoulders and pools around her legs, wears a body chain hung loosely around her body.11 The same type of body chain can be seen in a similarly half-dressed figure, this time in an applique, probably from a hairpin.12 In both cases the figure can be identified with Aphrodite.13

In the same period and, often at the same region, however, the ornament appears also in statues or stelai depicting young girls, or young maidens who are not wearing the back mantle. The stele of Hagnostrate shows a young maiden with uncovered, long hair in a peplos with overfold but without the back mantle.4 The stele of Choregis shows a much younger girl, perhaps five to eight years of age, wearing exactly the same costume, but together with a himation wrapped around her shoulder and waist.5 A statue from the area of the Ilissos river, probably from the sanctuary of Eleithyia, shows an even younger girl, perhaps three or four years old, dressed in a chiton with overfold, while a statuary group from Eleusis shows two girls of different ages and sizes in a chiton and himation: both wear the same ornament, a medallion suspended by two cords between the breasts.6

The Tillya Tepe objects were created by craftsmen with knowledge of Graeco-Roman material culture.14 Aphrodite, in particular, was depicted with this type of body chain in Greek and Roman art. Two of the most famous examples come from Pompeii, and show the goddess wearing two long chains that, in the case of the statue of the so-called Venus in a Bikini are worn below the breasts and around the lower part of the body.15 In a fresco from the House of Mars and Venus, they are worn between the breasts but fall low on the hips.16

These examples make clear that, even if the back mantle was used in classical Athenian iconography to denote a basket-bearer, the medallion over the chest was not part of her festival costume. Instead, it has to be understood as an ornament that could be worn by young girls of different age groups.

Such images have led scholars to identify the particular type of body chain that emphasizes the shape of the female body by highlighting the breasts and hips, with the kestos himas (κεστός ιμάς ποικίλος), the embroidered girdle of Aphrodite mentioned in the Iliad: ‘She spake, and loosed from her bosom the broidered zone, curiously-wrought, wherein are fashioned all manner of allurements; therein is love, therein desire, therein dalliance—beguilement that steals the wits even of the wise.’17 The kestos himas, though, can be reconstructed either as a band of fabric embroidered with various symbols of the goddess’ power, or as a chain or cord with hanging charms.18

Finally, for other scholars what is important is the fastening on criss-crossing bands, which may have had a practical function, that of keeping the dress in place. The cords are then identified with the μασχαλιστήρ, a band that passes under the armpits.7 Apart from a practical function, the criss-crossing bands across the chest also had symbolic and social meaning.

The comparison with Aphrodite’s girdle has made scholars suggest that criss-crossing bands in depictions of girls and women, is more than a practical way of fastening the garment, but can also signal the girls’ potential fertility and charm.19 It can also symbolically bind and control girls’ sexuality until the time of marriage.

Criss-crossing bands have a long history. They appear in the classical period, but they continued to be in use long after the fall of the Roman Empire. In the Roman period and late antiquity, especially, they were widely diffused. There are several imperial period examples of terracotta figurines from the Fayum in Egypt that show a woman with abundant hair dressed in a chiton with overfold and wearing two criss-crossing chains with a medallion under the middle of the breasts. The figures have narrow torsos and waists, but wide hips; the medallion draws attention to the breasts as it frames them, while the lower chains emphasize further the wide, good for child-bearing, hips of the figure.8 Another ornament with four hooks holding two chains in place comes from Hoxne in Suffolk. It dates from the late fourth century AD and it too would have created a frame for the breasts of

The statue of the little girl from Cyprus, however, is the only one where we see a child wearing a medallion decorated with a gorgon’s head. The gorgoneion was the ultimate apotropaic symbol in the ancient world. The Gorgon’s fixed gaze and her London, British Museum, inv. no 1994,0408.1: Johns 2003: 13, figs 2.3 and 2.4. 10  London, British Museum, inv. no 1916,0704.1: Johns 2003: 14, fig. 2.5. 11  Hiebert and Cambon 2008: cat. no 137. 12  Hiebert and Cambon 2008: cat. no 60. 13  Boardman 2015: 112-113. 14  Boardman 2015: 110-115. 15  Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no 152798 : Pompeji 1973: 142, no. 199. 16  Naples, Museo Archeologico Nazionale, inv. no 9248: Ranieri Panetta 2004: 203. 17  Hom. Il. 14.214-217: perseus-eng1:14.193-14.241. 18  For the kestos himas see Faraone 1999: 97-100. 19  Roccos 2000: 246. 9 

Roccos 1995: 641-666. Athens National Museum inv. no. 1836, ca 320 BC: Kaltsas 2002: cat. no 417. 5  Clairmont 1993: cat. no 0.911. 6  Bobou 2015: cat. no. 30. 7  S.v. ‘maschalister’ Liddel and Scott 1940: http://www.perseus.tufts. edu/hopper/text?doc=Perseus%3Atext%3A1999.04.0057%3Aalphabe tic+letter%3D*m%3Aentry+group%3D17%3Aentry%3Dmasxalisth%2Fr 8  For example, London, British Museum, inv. no 1926,0930.42: Johns 2003: 12, fig. 2.1. 3  4 


Olympia Bobou – Ornaments or Amulets: A Peculiar Jewel on Dedicatory Statues

frightening form could drive away evil.20 For people, the best way of ensuring protection was to carry the depiction of the gorgon’s head. The easiest way would be to have this image in an object that could be worn or carried around by the wearer all the time. A stone set in a ring was ideal for that, as it would provide their owner with constant protection against evil.21 A ring, however, was primarily a masculine attribute in the classical and Roman world, especially one that also functioned as a seal.22 Glass beads or medallions fastened on chains or cords were more appropriate for women, and there are several examples of jewelry which incorporated gorgoneia as part of the decoration or made it the focus of attention. In particular, a necklace from the second century AD, now at the Benaki Museum, shows how one could combine protective amulets: the chain is hooked on the medallion with the gorgon’s head, while a small medallion with a bust of Isis is suspended on the other side.23 The Gorgon’s image could also serve as a metaphor for specific problems, as a second-third century AD sardonyx intaglio in a later setting shows. On one side there is Perseus with the decapitated Gorgon’s head, on the other an inscription that says: ‘Run away, gout, for Perseus is after you!’ Instead of offering protection from gout, the gorgon is equated with the disease, and the wearer of the stone could then scare the gout, by reminding it of its enemy (i.e. Gorgon’s enemy, Perseus).24 Figure 3. Chous, from Athens, ca 420 BC. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, Rogers Fund, 1906, 06.1021.201.

When it came to protecting children amulets were often worn suspended by a chain or cord worn across the chest or the neck. The best-known examples come from Athenian choes, where the boys are often seen wearing a band across the chest with several amulets (Figure 3). They also appear in votive statues of children from Cyprus, the so-called templeboys.25 On one of the statues the boy wears a series of amulets, including one similar to the depiction of the Egyptian god Bes that was thought to protect children from evil.26 He is also wearing basket-shaped amulets, an amulet common to several statues (Figure 4).27 That had been interpreted as representations of the liknon, or winnowing basket, but also the cradle, that purified and promoted growth, as well as phallic-shaped amulets.28 If the meaning of the basketshaped amulets is not clear, the phallus is a well-established apotropaic symbol, and similar amulets are worn by several of the ‘temple-boys.’29 The gorgoneion on the medallion of the girl from Cyprus also has an apotropaic function. The medallion itself can be connected to the practice of putting amulets on children, as shown in choes or votives statues, where they are shown Dutsch and Suter 2015: 30. Boardman 1970: 186m pl. 407. 22  Boardman 1970: 236; Nevett 1999: 179: but see also Lee 2015: 151152. 23  Ballian et al. 1999: 262 cat. no 98. 24  See digital-collection/18.+Carved+Stones/1069208/?lng=en: 25  For choes see Hamilton 1992; for Cypriot votives see Beer 1994. 26  London, British Museum inv. no 1917,0701.125: Beer 1994: 52-53, cat. no 175, pl. 177, a-d. 27  As for example in a statue now at New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art, inv. no 74.51.2764. 28  For this interpretation of the basket-shaped amulet see Harrisson 1962: 4. 29  Beer 1994: 31. 20  21 

Figure 4. Statue of young boy, from Cyprus, late fifth century BC BC. New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art,The Cesnola Collection, Purchased by subscription, 1874–76, 74.51.2764.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

hung by bands or chains across the chest.30 As an object that can also be connected with female attractiveness, it seemed that was more suitable for a female than a male child.

evil eye on someone, seems to denote a more specific form of evil, one connected to the second meaning of the verb: to malign or envy. Thus, their placement on workshop entrances or on trees would have been protected the locations from the envious glances of passersby. This was in contrast to amulets, that could have either a general protective function, or they could be used as aids to bring a desired outcome.

This does not mean that all undecorated medallions were amulets, perhaps with a gorgoneion painted over their surface and now gone, but, it is probable that this was their most likely function, at least when it was connected to girls of different age groups. Its function was probably to ward off evil, and protect the wearer.

It is likely, however, that the amulet worn by the little girl could be named as well according to its shape that was round, like a shield.

The name of the object is also of interest and reveals ancient Greek attitudes towards classifying everyday objects. It can be named according to its function, as for example, in English it is called an amulet. The word amulet comes from the Latin amuletum, which is a general term for objects offering protection. For example, it first appears in Pliny in a discussion of the plant Tamus Communis, better known as black bryony (NH 23.14), but the amulet function is more obvious in his discussion of the use of amethysts by Magi: hanging from the neck to protect from evil, or activated through spells (NH 37.124).

Aspidiskai, small shields often appear in inventories of objects dedicated to goddesses. The term, though, refers both to miniature warriors’ shields, or to jewelry shaped like shields. For example, in an inventory of dedications to Athena that were placed in the Parthenon, dating from 374/3 BC, we find the following objects: ‘… Gorgoneion gold with silver underneath gilded, from the shield that [was] in the temple. Four small gold-plated, with silver underneath, shields. Iron akinakes (Persian sword) with a golden hilt, the scabbard of ivory set in gold, and gold pyglion. Two smooth gold-plated shields. A third shield goldplated with a gorgoneion.’37

In Greek, though, there is a variety of names: the most common is periamma or periapton: something tied around the body, or the neck. The word phylakterion, so, something used for protection, can be used together with periamma, as in Dioscurides’ discussion of selenites lithos (‘moonstone’ or ‘moonfoam’, a type of mica), where he writes that women tie it around themselves as an amulet.31

In this case, the shields described are probably small, warriors’ shields. The presence of the Persian sword and scabbard together with the shields makes this interpretation likely. In other cases, though, the term refers to jewelry in shieldor disc-form, dedicated together with other pieces of jewelry and objects, as in this list of objects from Delos, from 278 BC:

The connection between amulets and women is common in ancient authors. Dioscurides also writes of two more stones used as amulets, jasper and eagle stone, both used by women in order to have a quick and painless childbirth.32 Diodorus writes of the women of Crete who make amulets, possibly activated through incantations, in the name of Herakles, a Cretan hero who was later assimilated to Herakles, son of Zeus.33 The most famous example associating women with amulets, though, is in Plutarch’s Life of Perikles. Perikles, too ill to speak, shows ‘the amulet that the women had hung round his neck, as much as to say that he was very badly off to put up with such folly as that.’34

‘We have received from the hieropoioi.... Necklace the socalled of Eriphyle golden... Small shield and two rouge pots and gold necklaces…. Six golden rings…. Two small signets with gems unweighted. Eight golden Persian coins….. Five golden pomegranates and an apple and leaves, unweighted. An unweighted golden vine. A signet of emerald tied with a cord of gold, the dedication of Apollodoros, unweighted. A chain of amphoras on which Triptolemos and flowers and a small shield and earrings and stlegis, all golden…’38

It seems that, like in other aspects of household religion, women were in charge of protecting the children through the creation of makeshift or the purchase of more expensive amulets.35 The evidence from Athenian choes and Cypriot votive statues shows that this was more likely to happen in the early years of their life, when children were at their most vulnerable.

Furthermore, the inscriptions mention small shields with various decorations on them, as the gorgon’s head mentioned earlier in the Parthenon inventory. In some cases, the context makes it clear that the texts refer to shield-like jewelry, as opposed to small, ornamental, or parade, warriors’ shields, as for example, in this list of objects from the Parthenon, dating after 341/340 BC:

These amulets should also be separated from the vaskania, objects made by working men in order to ward off evil in their fields or workshops.36 Βασκαίνω (vaskaino), to cast the

‘Nausistrate golden small shields…. Gold necklace…. Teisikrateia golden small shield close to the column, where the deer, unweighed…. A golden strigil unweighted….’39 Or in this inventory from Eleusis, dating from 333/332 BC:

For example statue of seated boy from Idalion, London, British Museum inv. no. 1872,0816.20: Beer 1994: 45, cat. no 171, pl. 41, a-d. 31  Dsc 5.162; Stern 2009: 57. 32  Dsc 5.160-161. Riddle 1985:. 159-162. 33  D.S.5.64. 34  Cf Plb. 33.17: where men suffering from chronic diseases without seeing any improvement in their condition also turn to amulets. 35  Faraone 2008 and Boedeker 2008. 36  Ar. Fr. 542; Str. 16.4.17. 30 

‘A golden circular ring…. Small golden shield, and golden ring, unsmelted gold tied with a silver cord, two broken rings, three IG II² 1421. IG XI,2 161. 39  IG II² 1517. 37  38 


Olympia Bobou – Ornaments or Amulets: A Peculiar Jewel on Dedicatory Statues

golden crescent-shaped ornaments, three rings unsmelted, golden circular rings of white gold, another broken of white gold....’40

to be worn by a young bride, bringing her some of Aphrodite’s charm. One could probably buy this type of jewelry by asking for an aspidiske, however, one could then use it in different ways, which made it into a periapton or a phylakterion, depending on the person who used it.

Of particular interest are the small-shield dedications of queen Stratonike, listed in an inventory from Delos, perhaps from 196 BC: ‘Small shields of ivory, dedications of queen Stratonike, dressed in gold, these two have chains.’41 Another dedication, of Aristeas, from Lagina: ‘Aristeas, son of Aristeus dedicated chains together with a small shield,’ is equally important.42

The body-chain, when worn loosely around the body had erotic connotations, and was especially connected with Aphrodite. As an object it was probably suitable for married women, or courtesans.

These shields with chains immediately bring to mind surviving or depicted body chains. Another inscription, from Perge, focuses on the way that the shields might have been fastened on the chain or cord: ‘A small shield of gold with a hook, on which there is the face of Artemis, the dedication of Cleopatra…. A small shield with the face of Artemis and a hook weighing two golden, the dedication of Or[…]das son of Euvios.’43 A hook would have been a suitable way of hanging a pendant from a chain, but it could also be used with two crisscrossing chains or cords.

A single band or chain wrapped around the body, or two bands or chains criss-crossing the torso, and worn tightly against the chest was more appropriate for girls of all ages. The medallion secured on the bands or fastened to the chains could have an ornamental function, or could even be used as a charm, when used by married women. When it was used by young girls it then had an apotropaic function. The combination of tightly worn chains or bands around the chest and the medallion created a powerful image: that of a potential bride who was still untouchable, whose sexual powers had to be kept under control, and who had to be protected from evil. In an Apulian vase, the contrast between Hera and Iris, the married and the unmarried woman, is made obvious by the artist’s choice of garments: Hera wears a chiton that was easily loosened so she could breastfeed Herakles. Iris, on the other hand, wears a band tightly around her chest. Iris is a desirable young girl, Hera is a desirable woman.48

This means that the small shields with gorgon’s heads in the inventory from Delos dating from 166-157 BC could refer either to a small warrior’s shield, but also to a shield-shaped ornament: ‘…Two small shields having faces of gorgons, in the one are attached wings and interwoven tales, in the other there is a wing and two interwoven tails…’44     The evidence for the various small-shield jewels (with chains, decorated with deer, or heads of Artemis), show that the small medallion, with or without the gorgon’s head, was possibly also called ‘small shield,’ aspidiske.

And if a desirable young female goddess such as Iris needed to be protected, how much more mortal young girls needed to be? An amulet offered just this extra level of protection, especially one placed at the crucial area of the breasts.

What is also interesting is that this is the only name that appears in inscriptions, i.e. formal documents, from the archaic period to late antiquity. The words periapton or periamma never appear, while the word phylakterion has a very limited use: one inscription from Lydia, from the 1st c AD, and in three texts from Egypt that all refer to ritual objects.45 So, aspidiske was probably the ‘official’ name of this type of ornament, regardless of its use.

Abbreviations ID Inscriptions de Délos I.Eleusis Clinton, K. 2005-2008. Eleusis, the inscriptions on stone: documents of the Sanctuary of the Two Goddesses and public documents of the Deme. Athens : Archaeological Society at Athens.

Two golden disks from Delos perhaps can show us what the actual ornaments looked like.46 They have been identified as parts of hair nets, however a hairnet had to have multiple hooked elements for the net to be fastened around the medallion.47 These two disks have four hooks each that are comparable in location to the ones in the central breast ornament of the body chain found at Hoxne.

IG Inscriptiones Graecae IvPerge Şahin, S. 1999, 2004. Die Inschriften von Perge. Inschriften griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien 54 and 61. Bonn 1999, 2004. Lagina McCabe, Donald F. Lagina Inscriptions. Texts and List.

The depiction of Aphrodite in the Delos examples would have made them suitable ornaments for a girl of marriageable age, or perhaps they too, like the chain from Hoxne, were meant

Pompeji 1973 Pompeji: Leben und Kunst in den Vesuvstädten: 19. April bis 15. Juli 1973 in Villa Hügel, Essen. Recklinghausen: A. Bongers.

I.Eleusis 158. ID 385. 42  Lagina 45. 43  IvPerge 11:99,2. 44  ID 1413. 45  After relevant searches at 46  Delos Archaeological Museum inv. nos 10331 and B10331: Hadjidakis 2003: figs 350-351. 47  Cf. hairnet at Benaki Museum: Ballian et al. 1999: 207, cat. no 69. 40  41 

Apulian vase: London, British Museum inv. no 1846,0925.13: on_object_details.aspx?objectId=463602&partId=1&searchText=1846 %2c0925.13&page=1 (consulted 2/4/18). For other mythological figures shown with criss-crossing bands over the chest see Roccos 2000: 245-47. 48 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


Kaltsas, N. 2002. Sculpture in the National Archaeological Museum, Athens. Los Angeles: J. P. Getty Museum. Lee, M. M. 2015. Body, Dress, and Identity in Ancient Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Nevett, L.C. 1999. House and society in the ancient Greek world. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Ranieri Panetta, M. 2004. Pompeii: the history, life and art of the buried city. Vercelli: White Star. Riddle, J.M. 1985. Dioscorides on Pharmacy and Medicine. Austin : University of Texas Press. Roccos, L. 1995. ‘The Kanephoros and Her Festival Mantle in Greek Art.’ American Journal of Archaeology 99: 641-666. Roccos, L. 2000. ‘Back - Mantle and Peplos: The Special Costume of Greek Maidens in 4th - CenturyFunerary and Votive Reliefs’. Hesperia 69: 235-265. Stern, M. 2009. ‘Glass coffins and other transparent riddles’. In J. Koen et al (eds), Annales Du 17e Congrès D’Associationi Internationale Pour L’histoire Du Verre: 55-59. Antwerp: ASPEDITIONS. Vassilika, E. 1998. Greek and Roman Art. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Ballian, A. et al. 1999. Greek jewellery from the Benaki Museum Collections. Athens : Adam Editions. Beer C. 1994. Temple boys: a study of Cypriot votive sculpture. Jonsered : P. Aströms. Boardman, J. 1970. Greek gems and finger rings: early Bronze Age to late Classical. London: Thames & Hudson. Boardman, J. 2015. The Greeks in Asia. London: Thames and Hudson. Bobou, O. 2015. Children in the Hellenistic Period. Statues and Representation. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Boedeker, D. 2008. ‘Household Religion in Ancient Greece’. In J. Bodel and S.M. Olyan, Household and Family Religion in Antiquity: 229-247. Oxford: Blackwell. Clairmont, C.W. 1993. Classical Attic Tombstones. Kilchberg, Switzerland : Akanthus. Dutsch, D. and A. Suter (eds). 2015. Ancient Obscenities: Their Nature and Use in the Ancient Greek and Roman Worlds. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press. Faraone, C. 2008. ‘Family Matters: Domestic Religion in Classical Greece’. In J. Bodel and S.M. Olyan, Household and Family Religion in Antiquity: 210-228. Oxford: Blackwell. Oxford: Blackwell. Faraone, C. 1999. Ancient Greek Love Magic. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press. Hadjidakis, P. J. 2003. Delos. Athens: Latsis Group. Hamilton, R. 1992. Choes and anthesteria: athenian iconography and ritual. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press. Harrisson, J. E. 1962. Epilegomena to the Study of Greek Religion. New Hyde Park, N. Y. : University Books., Hiebert, F. and P. Cambon. 2008. Hidden Afghanistan: hidden treasures from the National Museum, Kabul. Washington, D.C.: National Geographic Society. Johns, C. 2003. ‘Body-chains: Hellenistic to Late Roman.’ In C. Entwistle (ed.) Through a glass brightly: studies in Byzantine and medieval art and archaeology presented to David Buckton: 10-15. Oxford: Oxbow.

Online Resources: Fitzwilliam Museum, inv. no GR.1.1917: Hermitage gem: age/digital-collection/18.+Carved+Stones/1069208/?lng= en:‘maschalister’: Liddel and Scott 1940: http://www.pers .04.0057%3Aalphabetic+letter%3D*m%3Aentry+group%3 D17%3Aentry%3Dmasxalisth%2Fr London, British Museum, Apulian Vase inv. no. 1846,0925.13: ine/collection_object_details.aspx?objectId=463602&part Id=1&searchText=1846%2c0925.13&page=1 Searchable Greek Inscriptions:





Greek Emporios in Chios: The Archaeological Data from the Excavations of the Last Decades1 Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea important archaeological evidence came to light, especially in the area southwest of the harbour. In this region, the excavation at the so-called Vasili’s plot would prove to be significant,6 due to its location (Figure 1), at the boundary between the prehistoric settlement and the Archaic Sanctuary:7 investigation at the site, carried out between 2002 and 2006, revealed the continuity of the architectural remains of the Sanctuary, Archaic sculptures – such as two statues of kouroi – and also important data regarding the presumable succession of the Late Bronze Age and Early Iron Age layers at the Emporios.

In1the early 1950s, the British School at Athens began archaeological surveys on the coastal site of Emporios, at the south-east part of the island of Chios.2 The remains that were preserved on the surface of the unconstructed landscape of Emporios,3 and the topography of the site, i.e. the natural moorage, the lowland and the low hills, provided sound indications for the presence of antiquities in the area. The systematic excavations that followed, under the general direction of Sinclair Hood, brought to light a unique archaeological complex with a long history and useful material for the study of the archaeology of Chios: in the harbour area, a prehistoric settlement with uninterrupted habitation from the Late Neolithic to the Late Bronze Age, and a sanctuary of the Late Geometric and Archaic periods were uncovered, while at the adjacent hill of Prophet Elias a settlement of the Early Historical times, with a walled acropolis and a temple, was investigated. The excavations of the prehistoric settlement were conducted under the general supervision of Sinclair Hood, while the excavations of the so-called Harbour Sanctuary and the settlement at the Prophet Elias hill were carried out by the young, at that time, archaeologist John Boardman. A few years later the results of these archaeological excavations were published by the excavators in fundamental to this day monographs.4

During the 1950s, eight trenches in total excavated in the plain to the west of the harbour, revealed successive architectural building remains and votive deposits, based upon which the excavator, J. Boardman, recognized six consecutive periods (Periods I-VI). To the earliest ones, (Periods I and II), dated from the Late Geometric to the third quarter of the 7th century B.C., belonged two parallel walls – walls α and β – which, according to the excavator, probably defined a passage. The two walls were abandoned shortly before the middle of the 7th century (Period III), when a strong, circular retaining peribolos (wall δ) was constructed in order to define the plateau of the Sanctuary from the sea side, and the old passage was replaced by a wide, stone staircase. Towards the end of the 7th century, or a little later (Period IV), the now old peribolos (wall δ) was renewed and reinforced with a second retaining enclosure (wall ζ), built in an almost parallel direction to the older one. This peribolos, which, according to the excavator, signified the peak of the Sanctuary, remained in use, while receiving repair works and extensions, until after the middle of the 6th century B.C. (Period V). Worship continued uninterruptedly throughout the 6th century (Period VI), and at the beginning of the 5th century an apsidal cult building of Ionic order was built on the demarcated plateau. Its crepidoma incorporated building material, in which Boardman recognized parts of an earlier cult building – dating back to the middle of the 6th century – that probably stood in the same place.8

Several years after the initial excavation, investigations at Emporios started again under the direction of the 20th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities.5 During this period new We would like to express our deepest gratitude to our colleagues Maria Christeli, Anna Tsagarelli and Lena Makrelli for the drawings, to John Oikonomou and Nagia Baklatzi for the photographs, as well as to Mina Mantika and John Lagoutaris for the conservation of the finds. We are also most deeply grateful to Nota Kourou, Professor of Archeology at the University of Athens, as well as to Irene Lemos, Professor of Classical Archaeology and Fellow of Merton College, Oxford, for their valuable suggestions on pottery and dating issues. The translation of the text is attributed to our colleagues Maria Sitara, Dr Kosmas Dafas and Dr Eleni Poimenidou. We are also most grateful to the British School at Athens for the permission to reproduce some topographic drawings from the 1950s excavations. 2  At the same period, the British School at Athens conducted surveys at the town of Chios (Anderson, J.K. 1954. ‘Excavations on the Kofina ridge.’ BSA 49: 123-182), and also at Delfinion and Pindakas (Boardman, J. 1956. ‘Delphinion in Chios.’BSA 51: 41 ff; Boardman, J. 1958/59. ‘Excavations at Pindakas in Chios.’ BSA 53/54: 295 ff). Significant research however had already been conducted by the British School earlier, at the 1930s: at that time W. Lamb continued the research of K. Kourouniotis at Kato Fana, at the sanctuary of Phanaeus Apollo (Κουρουνιώτης, Κ. 1915. ‘Ἀνασκαφαί καί Ἔρευναι ἐν Χίῳ.’ArchDelt 1: 64-93;Κουρουνιώτης, Κ. 1916. ‘Ἀνασκαφαί καί Ἔρευναι ἐν Χίῳ.’ArchDelt 2: 190-216; Lamb 1934-1935: 138-163, pl. 27-37), while in 1938, E. Eccles performed the first surveys at the cave of Ayio Gala (Ecless, Ε. 1939. JHS 59: 203). 3  On the topography of Emporios see Boardman 1967: xi, pl. 1, 2 b – c; Yalouris 1976: 184; Hood 1981: 84-85. 4  Boardman 1967; Hood 1981: 83 ff; Hood 1982. 5  Τσαραβόπουλος, Α. 1984. ‘Εμποριό. Οικόπεδο Ντούλη.›Χιακά 1 

Apart from the building remains of the periods recognized by J. Boardman, the continuation of the Sanctuary to the south, uncovered at the Vasili’s plot (Figure 2), also revealed an element that undoubtedly registers the Emporios Sanctuary in the tradition of the great Greek Sanctuaries, and especially those of Eastern Greece: as happened in the Heraion of Samos,9 Χρονικά: 116; Τσαραβόπουλος, Α. 1985. ‘Εμποριό. Οικόπεδο Ντούλη.›Χιακά Χρονικά: 77; Αρχοντίδου, Α. 1986. ‘Εμποριό. Οικόπεδο Ντούλη.›ArchDelt 41: 198; Αχειλαρά, Λ. 1987. ‘Εμποριό. Οικόπεδο Μπαχά.›ArchDelt 42: 475, pl. 283a. 6  Ρούγγου 2012: 133-144. 7  Hood 1981: 86-87, fig. 47-48. 8  Boardman 1967: 52-98, pl.11c–18. 9  Walter, H. 1976. Das Heraion von Samos. Ursprung und Wandel eines griechischen Heiligtums. Zürich: Piper and Co; Kyrieleis, H. 1981. Führer durch das Heraion von Samos. Athen: Krene Verlag. – For the Late Bronze Age remains and the cult activity which probably took place


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 1. Topographic plan of Emporio’s peninsula and harbour with the excavation trenches of the British Archaeological School at the beginning of the 50’s. The site of the Vasili’s plot is noted.


Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

Figure 2. Topographic plan of the lowland area on the west of the harbour: noted are the excavated remains from the first excavation trenches of the Sanctuary, along with their continuation as revealed at the Vasili’s plot.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Drawing of the building remains that were revealed at the Vasili’s plot. the Artemision of Ephesus,10 the Aeolian Sanctuary of Klopedi at Lesbos11 and elsewhere, the temenos seems to have been founded upon the remains of the Mycenaean period, which were discovered in the lowest archaeological layer of the Vasili’s plot,12 and are certainly connected to the adjacent Late Helladic settlement, which was excavated by S. Hood in the 1950s. During the excavations of that period, on the top and the west slope of the low coastal hill, over the building remains of the Early and Middle Bronze Ages, Hood investigated the remains of a Late Bronze Age settlement, where it appears that the Mycenaeans settled during the LH IIIC period.13 The Late-Helladic layer of the Vasili’s plot (Figure 3), which was discovered almost at sea level and continued for approximately 0,40m above it, contained fragmentarily preserved walls (6 and 7), wheel-made and handmade pottery at the lowest level (Figure 4), while at a higher level it provided a limited amount of sherds with painted decoration. Although the pottery of this layer has not yet been conserved, and therefore any dating would be arbitrary, however, among the wheel-made examples of the lowest level, some fragments of conical cups, similar to those found by Hood at the Sanctuary during that time see Walter 1963: 286287; Niemeier – Kouka 2010: 112-114. 10  Kerschner 2006: 366-370. Kerschner et al. 2008: 33, with bibliography. 11  The Aeolian Sanctuary of Klopedi at Lesbos was discovered at the beginning of the last century by the Figure 4. Pottery examples of the LH layer from the Vasili’s plot. ex-director of the Ephorate of Antiquities D. Evangelidis. He excavated two cult buildings of Aeolic order dating back to the 6th century B.C. During the new excavations of 2010 in the in the earliest LH layers of Emporios, were identified.14 area of the Sanctuary, it became clear that the temples incorporated Respectively, among the pottery of the upper level, in their foundations older residential, cult and burial remains, their characteristic examples of painted pottery were detected date spanning from the 13th to the 7th century B.C. In fact, a clay during the excavation, such as kylikes, and flat handles statuette head that probably dates back to the LH IIIC period was with snake-like wavy lines, dating the layer to the LH IIIC found in a curvilinear building of the 8th century B.C, on top of which the late Archaic Temple of the Sanctuary was founded. - For period. Hood describes a similar succession of the Late the Aeolian Sanctuary of Klopedi see Ευαγγελίδης, Δ. 1928.’Ἀνασκαφή Helladic layers of trench F.15 Regardless, however, of the Κλοπεδής Λέσβου.’ Prakt: 126-137; Betancourt 1977: 82-87; see most recently Ρούγγου et al. 2014: 26-36, 58-60. 12  Ρούγγου 2012: 133-135, fig.3. 14  13  Hood 1982: 599-601, fig. 269. Hood 1981: 85-91, 147-164, pl. 26-28; Hood 1982: 579-622, pl. 11715  129; Hood 1986: 169-180. Hood 1981: 158-163; Hood 1986: 169-171.


Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

exact dating of the layer at the Vasili’s plot, the new finds testify that the settlement of this period at Emporios, aside the top, and the foot of the low hill, extended to much of the coastal lowland area as well. Finds from the LΗ period were not discovered under the first building phase of the Sanctuary during the excavations of the 1950s. The only find which J. Boardman identified with certainty as sub-Mycenaean, or somewhat posterior, was a wheel-made animal figurine, probably a horse, found in a deposition pit.16 He also distinguished sub-Mycenaean features in some figurines from the deposition pits; however, he considered their date in the 8th century more probable.17 As the date of the figurines at the end of the Mycenaean period is still under discussion,18 Hood did not exclude the existence of a cult at the site of the Sanctuary since the Mycenaean times.19 He found examples of female figurines, one of the Psi-type, dated in the LH IIIC period, as well as bull figurines of the Mycenaean period at the trenches of the adjacent prehistoric hill.20

Figure 5. Example from the shoulder and the stump of the neck of a closed Protogeometric vessel, probably of an oinochoe.

Hood’s hypothesis regarding the existence of a cult already in the Mycenaean era should not be ruled out, in light of the new evidence from the LH layer at the Vasili’s plot, and in conjunction with the finds of the overlying layer (Figure 3): the filling material of a stone-built staircase of the 8th century B.C. (Figure 7), which had been built upon the LH layer, consisted of pottery examples, which appear to date back to the Protogeometric period. The most representative among them are a fragment from the shoulder and the stump of the neck of a closed vessel with a decoration of a pair of concentric circles Boardman 1967: 188, nr.25, pl. 73 - The schematic modelling of the Emporios figurine, with its flat discshaped buttock, is also seen in severalwheel-made animal figurines of the sub-Mycenaean period, found in Sanctuaries such as that of Amyclae at Sparta, in Philakopi, as well as a Sanctuary at the site of Iraklis in Kos (Δημοπούλου 1982: 57-60, nr. 70-70α, pl.28-29; Renfrew 1985: 248, nr. SF 2690, pl. 41, fig. 6.18; Σκέρλου 2004: 178-179, 182-183, nr. 603 and 604). 17  Boardman refers to a wheel-made horse figurine, smaller fragments of similar horse figurines, the leg of a bull figurine and part of a figurine with raised hands (Boardman 1967: 188-189, nr. 26-28, nr. 37 and 48, pl. 73 and 74). 18  Regarding the horse figurine (Boardman 1967: 188, nr. 26, pl.73), Nicholls (1970: 7, 14 ff) expressed some reservations concerning its dating to the LG period, as he considered the 12th century more probable. However, Guggisberg (1996: 98, nr. 303, pl. 22) accepts a date in the Geometric period. - See also Σκέρλου 2004: 183; Κούρου 2009: 124. 19  Hood’s hypothesis regarding the existence of a Mycenaean cult at the site of the harbour (1982: 629, nr.21) is stated in the context of the dating proposed by Nicholls (1970: 7, 14 ff) concerning the horse figurine to the 12th century B.C. Hood accepts Boardman’s dating (1967: 188, nr. 26, pl.73) to the 8th century BC. 20  Hood 1982: 628-629, nr. 16, 18-20, pl. 131-132. 16 

Figure 6. Fragment from the rim and body of a Protogeometric crater.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. The enclosure - peribolos (τχ5) and the staircase (χώρος 3α) of the Period I - II at the Vasili’s plot.

in horizontal row (Figure 5), and a fragment from the rim, body and horizontal handle of a crater decorated with a pair of concentric circles in panels (Figure 6).

Regarding the first case, the broad band at the stump of the neck and the overlying thinner band, suggest that the fragment comes from a trefoil oinochoe, for corresponding


Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

band decoration usually occurs at the base of the neck of Protogeometric oinochoai from Kerameikos in Attica. These vases, even the earliest examples of this type, are decorated on the shoulder with concentric circles, usually with languettes or wiggly lines, which divide the sets of circles into distinct panels.21 The decorative motif of eye-like concentric circles on the shoulder,22 as shown on the example from the Vasili’s plot, is also found on Protogeometric neck-handled amphorae from Attica,23 Knossos24 and Marmariani,25 even from Klazomenai,26 while it is usually found on high-footed skyphoi of this period,27 as well as in Protogeometric craters.28 This particular motif, however, characterizes also the Geometric neck-handled amphorae of the so-called ‘Group II’, that Catling has identified and classified,29 and to which amphorae from Macedonia, Troy and mainland Greece30 are attributed. Among other elements, this group is distinguished by a ridge below the ill-defined junction between the neck and the shoulder. The absence of this ridge on the fragment of the Vasili’s plot, combined with the differences in the shape and the arrangement of the decoration, diminishes the possibility of integrating the fragment of the Vasili’s plot to the so-called ‘Group II’ vessels.

latter, the arrangement of the decoration, the style and the shapes are far differentiated from the find of the Vasili’s plot.

At Chios, this motif, following the same pattern as the one from the Vasili’s plot, is detected on a burial amphora of the sub-Protogeometric years from the town of Chios, that has however its neck painted solid grey to black,31 as well as on a sherd from Kato Fana, which W. Lamb considered to be Geometric, although Desborough and Coldstream date it to the Protogeometric or Early Geometric times.32 The fragments of closed vessels with a decoration of concentric circles, mainly amphoras, found by Boardman at the deposition pits of the Sanctuary33 are quite later, dated to the 7th century B.C. In the

Based on the aforementioned comparisons, the two vases from the filling material of the 8th century staircase seem to date back to the 10th century B.C., bridging the gap between the layer of the LHIII period and the Early and Middle Geometric Ages, meaning the 9th century B.C., to which Boardman dated, although with reservation, the earliest pottery of the first excavations in the Sanctuary.40

As far as the second case is concerned, the fragment of a crater with an almost vertical body and a horizontal flat-topped rim with a ridge below it recalls the Protogeometric craters from Attica, Leukandi and Marmariani. These craters are decorated with concentric circles, just as in the example from the Vasili’s plot, with a variation though regarding the arrangement and the panels.34 The zigzag line between the two horizontal bands underneath the rim is a key motif, also found in the small fragment of a Protogeometric crater from Fana.35 The same motif is often used in vases of the Protogeometric period, mainly in amphoriskoi and prochoiskoi,36 such as in an imported Attic example from Archontiki at Psara,37 but also in skyphoi, as the examples from Athenian Kerameikos and Euboea demonstrate.38 Additionally, the early dating of the crater from the Vasili’s plot is supported by the decorative dots that encircle the ornament of the metope that is painted solid, a motif detected on the sub-Mycenaean and, more rarely, on the Protogeometric vessels.39

The vessels from Emporios area significant addition to the limited collection of theis land’s Protogeometric pottery, which originate from burial complexes at the town of Chios and also from the Sanctuary of Apollo at Kato Fana.41 Their ‘dependency’ on the pioneering workshops of Attica, Euboea and Thessaly is clearly indicated on the typology of shapes and the decorative subjects of this period’s pottery from Chios. The parallels that have already been presented and our overall knowledge regarding the Protogeometric vessels from Chios, classify the island into the cultural ‘common’ of the Aegean region of this period, as it is formed among the centers of the mainland Greece, the Cyclades and the eastern Aegean.42

Desborough 1952: 49, nr. 545 and 1070, pl. 7; Desborough 1972:38, 151, fig. 8C; Lemos 2002: 68, pl. 92.3. 22  The concentric circles (Boardman 2001: 18, fig. 9, 19, 22) motif is seen in the painted pottery of the Aegean region from the Late Bronze Age to circa the 7th century B.C.; this is why Catling (1998: 152, 180 n.3) highlights that their presence does not constitute an indisputable chronological feature. Similarly, enduring use of this motif is also noted in Chios (Boardman 1967: 105 n.2; Αρχοντίδου 2004, 209), as it is found on Protogeometric vessels (see infra n.31 and 32), as well as on vases of the 7th century BC, mostly on amphorae that come from the Archaic necropolis of Chios (Lemos 1986: 236-238, fig. 7 and 8), and from the Harbour’s Sanctuary at Emporio (Boardman 1967: 137, 139, n. 487-498, pl. 43-45). 23  Desborough 1952: 8, nr. 522, pl.2; Desborough 1972: 33, 147-148, fig. 1C; Brouskari 1980: 20, nr.5 (EPK 537), 30, pl. 3c; Lemos 2002: 56-59, pl. 6.1. 24  Desborough 1952: 18, 245, pl.31 and 34, V, north side; Desborough 1972: fig. 1E; Boardman 2001: 22, fig. 19. 25  Heurtley – Skeat 1930-1931: 25 nr.77, pl. VI; Desborough 1952: 1617, 139, pl. 22, nr. 77; Desborough 1972: 210-212, pl. 51; Lemos 2002: 58-59. 26  Aytaҫlar 2004: 26, 34 n. 21, fig. 12. 27  Desborough 1952: 77-92, 158, 168-169, 146, pl. 10-11, 16 nr. 45, 25 nr.A3, 28 nr.5,9, 33 nr.VI,20; Desborough 1972: 39, 152, 166-167, 180181, fig. 9 and 18, pl. 32; Desborough - Dickinson 1980: 32, pl. 31 nr.11; Lemos 2002: 36-40, pl. 6.3, 22.5, 32.4, 36.4,5, 67). 28  See infra n. 32. 29  Catling 1998: 166-177; See also Gimatzidis 2010: 258-267, fig. 78-81; Lemos 2012: 178-181, fig. 1. 30  Gimatzidis 2010: 262-264, fig. 82. 31  Αρχοντίδου 2004, 209-210, 213 nr. BEX 5459, fig. 4. 32  Lamb 1934-1935: 157-158, pl. 35, nr.24; Desborough 1972: 217; Coldstream 1968: 294, n.5; Beaumont – Archontidou-Argyri 2004: 216, n.41; Beaumont 2011: 223 n.2. 33  See supra n.22. 21 

Heurtley – Skeat 1930-1931: 30-33, pl. IX-XI; Desborough 1952: 9295, 142-145, pl. 12 (Kerameikos) and 23; Desborough 1972: 153-154, 180-181, 210-213, fig. 18, pl. 51; Desborough – Dickinson 1980: 33, pl. 16 nr. 156, pl. 32 nr. 1 and 6. Lemos 2002: 46-52, pl. 71.2, 75, 76.2, 77.2, 79; Boardman 2001: 21, fig. 18. 35  Desborough 1952: 98-101, pl. 11, nr. 546, 1072, 1104, 1082; Desborough 1972: 39, 154, fig. 10 E and F; Lemos 2002: 30-33, pl.5.4,6, 64.1-4, 65.2,3. 36  Desborough 1972: 39, fig.10, E, F; Brouskari 1980: 22, nr. 11 (EPK 544), pl. 3f; Lemos 2002: 63-64, pl. 9.2, 13.11, 88.1, 16.1, 17.1,2. 88,3. - See also Heurtley – Skeat 1930-1931: 22 nr.56, fig.19, pl. IV; Lemos 2002: pl. 21.7. 37  Ρούγγου 2006: 93. 38  Desborough 1952: 98-101, pl. 11, nr. 546, 1072, 1104, 1082; Desborough 1972: 39, 154, fig. 10 E and F; Lemos 2002: 30-33, pl.5.4,6, 64.1-4, 65.2,3. 39  Desborough 1952: 162, nr. 151, pl. 17; Popham et al. 1980: 135, pl. 112 (pyre 3). Lemos – Hatcher 1986: 324, nr.1, fig. 1. Boardman 2001: 18, fig.1; Lemos 2002: 9, 63, pl. 2.2 and 93.4. 40  Boardman 1967: 61; Beaumont 2011: 224 n.4. 41  See supra n. 31-32 and 35. 42  Desborough 1952: 172-179, 232-233; Desborough 1972: 158, 179-215, 221-224; Yalouris 1976: 56-66; Hood 1986: 179-180; Boardman 1988: 34 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

In the Early Iron Age, pottery of fine quality comes mostly from tombs or Sanctuaries. The Emporio’s vessels belong to the second case, while the typology of their shapes is obviously related to some kind of ritual involving wine. This hypothesis, combined with the existence of Psi-type (Ψ) figurines and bull figurines of the Mycenaean and sub-Mycenaean period,43 the deposition of the Protogeometric ‘ritual’ vessels at the foundation level of the 8th century B.C. building remains, similar to that at the Sanctuary of Phanaeus Apollo,44 and the construction of the latter upon the LH layer, suggest the continuity of the cult at Emporios since the end of the Late Bronze Age. Perhaps it is not perilous to assert that the bull figurines and the wine rituals are associated with fertility celebrations and refer to the cult of a female deity, which is identified as the ‘Great Goddess’.45 The overlying layer of the LH finds at the Vasili’s plot (Figure 3) consisted of remarkable building remains (Figure 7): part of a massive wall was found, probably a peribolos (τχ5), as well as part of a rectangular structure, interpreted as a staircase (χώρος 3α). The staircase’s filling material contained pottery of the Protogeometric period, already discussed above. The peribolos consisted of a 1,10 m. wide wall, built of large semi-carved stones, which had only one carved side facing the sea. The staircase, which was also situated towards the sea side, comprised two parallel walls that created a platform of 2,40 m. internal width. A single series of stones, resembling a terrace, delineated Figure 8. The two parallel terrace walls (τχ1 – τχ2) of the Periods III - IV at the this platform from the west. The construction of Vasili’s plot. the staircase’s sidewalls, of 0,70 m. width, was made of flagstones and was identical to the walls α and β of the passage, that Boardman had The walls τχ1 and τχ2 (Figures 3 and 8), revealed at the southern uncovered at the lowest layer of trench H.46 Additionally, the section of the plot, were part of the Sanctuary’s retainingwalls pottery found in small quantities just above staircase 3α, of the III and IV periods and outlined the continuation of the contained mainly examples of Chian craters within dicative walls δ and ζ that Boardman had previously found at trenches decoration, such as Ss (vertical zigzags) in friezes, the crossH and F to the south (Figure 2).48 The filling material between hatched triangle with hooks sprouting from its apex (tree the two retaining walls, contained a small amount of pottery ornament) and bands of butterflies,47 dating the layer later of the wild goat style, metallic components of belts, and two than the middle of the 8th century and up to about the 3rd figurines (a Kouros-type and a Hermaphrodite figurine) that quarter of the 7th century B.C., meaning Periods I and II date the end of use of the first retaining wall (τχ1, τχδ) and of the Sanctuary. Therefore, the staircase (χώρος 3α), the the construction of the second one (τχ2-wall ζ) at the end of peribolos (τχ5) and the passage of the previous surveys are the 7th century or the beginning of the 6th century B.C. contemporary, and probably constitute the first structural phase of the Sanctuary. The Archaic peribolos of the IV period, discovered at the Vasili’s plot (τχ2), displayed a particularly fine construction regarding its exterior face, and like the previous periboloi of 23-26. Boardman 2001: 21; Lemos 2002: 212-217; Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη 2004: 212-213; Kerschner et al. 2008: 35; Beaumont 2011: 224-225. the Sanctuary, it was situated towards the sea (Figure 12). 43  See supra n.16-20. Outside this peribolos, the excavation revealed an extended 44  Beaumont – Archontidou-Argyri 2004: 204-211; Beaumont 2011: destruction layer (Figure 9), covering almost the whole area 222-224. of the plot with a direction to the sea side. Its width reached 45  Κούρου 2009: 124-127. – Boardman as well (1967: 62-64) mentions 80 centimeters and included a large amount of building that Artemis, the main deity worshipped in the Sanctuary during the 7th century BC, probably succeeded the cult of a female deity of the material: mostly raw or semi-carved stones and stone Bronze Age, similar to that of the Phrygian Cybele. – See also Ρούγγου architectural segments, such as an Ionic half-column, sections 2013: 111-112. 46  Boardman 1967: 53-56, fig. 28 and 29, pl. 12a-c. 47  Boardman 1967: 105-115, fig. 62-69, pl. 19-28.



Boardman 1967: 56-58, fig.28-29, pl. 11-12.

Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

Figure 9. View of the destruction layer that was uncovered outside of the terrace wall τχ2. Among the building material stands out a half – column of Ionic order. from the shafts of unfluted columns, an Ionic echinus, as well as fragmentarily preserved clay roof tiles.49 All this material was found ‘discarded’at this site with no particular care, while various objects were included among them: figurines, a large quantity of Chian vessels, mostly cups and kylikes, few of them with iconographic decoration and others with inscribed engravings on the rim, imported Attic black figured vases or from north Ionian workshops, bearing depictions indicative of their votive character, bronze artifacts, such as fibulae and belt components, as well as the foot of a female terracotta statuette (Figure 10).

dedicated to Apollo and Artemis. Among the offerings, there was the rim of a black painted kylix, bearing the inscription: ΙΕΡΗ ΑΠΟΛΛΩΝΟΣ ΕΙΜΙ.51 Those kouroi are the first to be found in Chios and therefore, they are of particular importance for the limited collection of the island’s Archaic sculptures.52 The better preserved example, resembling Leukios’ offering from Samos, reveals the conservatism of a regional, probably local, workshop. On the contrary, the second kouros, with the radial hair locks on his back, and the forearm of the kore, with the unpleated garment, are works of great artistic value. The two sculptures are closely related to the group of the ‘island korai’, the Erythres kore, and a kouros from Kyzikos, revealing thus the artistic relations of Chios to Paros, as well as to the adjacent coastline of Asia Minor.53 The sculptures are dated to the mid6th century B.C., as well as the vast majority of the objects in the destruction layer, a dating that correlates the votive offerings and the temenos, which Boardman assumed to have been standing at the demarcated plateau of the sanctuary during the mid-6th century B.C.54

The type of the objects, as well as their quality, testify that they were votive offerings to Apollo and Artemis, the Sanctuary’s deities who have been worshiped at least since the end of the 7th century B.C.50 Two marble kouroi and the statue of a kore, which were found ‘discarded’ in the destruction layer among plinth stones and architectural fragments (Figure 11), were The echinus exhibits a typological similarity to the examples from Aeolis (Betancourt 1977: 58-73, fig. 20 and 27, pl. 36, 38 and 41; Cook – Nicholls1998:132-135, fig. 29, pl. 17a). This comparison is indissolubly linked to Boardman’s point regarding the close artistic relations among Chios and the Aeolic and north-Ionic cities (Boardman 1967: 74). Besides, in Chios too, the closest counterparts regarding the echinus from the Vasili’s plot are two carved mouldings from Fana and from the Harbour Sanctuary, which are similar to the examples from Phokaia, Neandria and Smyrna (Boardman 1959: 174 nr.14, 176177, pl. XXVIb; Boardman 1967: 67-68, 90 nr. 49, fig. 46, pl. 17). 50  Boardman 1967: 63-64 49 

Ρούγγου 2012: 135, 143, fig. 4, 5 and 15. Boardman 1962:43-45, pl. 38-44; Boardman 1967: 182-183, fig. 128, pl. 69.7; Recently Ρούγγου 2013: 57-62, 67-69, 94-99, 129-132, 135-137, with bibliography. 53  Ρούγγου 2012: 135-144, fig. 6-14. 54  Boardman 1967: 65-68, fig. 34, pl. 13 – 14a. 51  52 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 10. Examples of Attic and Chian pottery of the middle of the 6th century B.C., as well as the unshod foot of a female statuette. The upper chronological limit of the layer, marking also its formation date, is placed at the beginning of the 5th century B.C. on the basis of the female figurines with their arm resting on the breast.55 During this period the Sanctuary probably suffered a great destruction, which seems to be related to the naval battle of Ladi and the Persian advance to the Eastern Aegean.56 In the first half of the 5th century B.C., after the Persian Wars, the island recovered and the Sanctuary was renovated. Thus, the construction material of the cult building of the mid 6th century B.C. was used at the crepidoma of the Classical temple, whereas, the rest of the construction material along with the offerings were discarded outside the peribolos. A new peribolos (Figure 3), that was erected about 15 meters away from the Archaic limit of the Sanctuary (τχ2) demarcated the Classical Sanctuary’s limits to the sea (Figure 12). This way the 6th century B.C. offerings and building material were covered by the Sanctuary of the Classical period.

architectural remains of an organized settlement of the Early Historical Times. At a plateau located below the hill’s top, he found a fortified acropolis, which consisted of a temple dedicated to Athena, a ruler’s megaron, and a large open area, identified as a gathering space. Outside the walls, on the western slope of the hill, he traced about 50 one-roomed buildings, the majority of which were houses that according to the excavator represented at least half of the settlement’s buildings. These houses were classified into two categories: those of the megaron type and those with the built bench. A central road crossing the slope provided access to the acropolis.57 According to the evidence by the new excavation data, the acropolis was entirely surrounded by a wall, even at its eastern side that was naturally protected. And while at the west and south sides of the acropolis plateau the wall is preserved up to a height of about two meters, at the eastern one, only its foundations were traced, whilstat the north side, towards the precipitous hilltop, it was dilapidated for the erection of the Convent. The wall did not display any towers, except for the acropolis entrance to the south.58

In 2002, alongside the excavation research at the area of the Sanctuary, works started at the hill of Prophet Elias within the framework of the site’s enhancement project. At this rocky hill to the north of the port, John Boardman excavated in 1952

Boardman 1967: 3-51. Boardman 1988: 31-32 – See also Mazarakis Ainian 1997: 85-86, 197-198, 256, 331, fig. 368-382 with bibliography. 58  Boardman 1967: 4-5, fig. 4, pl. 2e, 3c-d; Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη 2003: 57 

Boardman 1967: 195, nrs. 122-126, 201, pl. 81. 56  Herodotus VI, 32. Boardman 1967:251-252. 55 


Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

Figure 11. The statues of kouroi, as they were revealed in the destruction layer.

Figure 12. View from the east of the excavated building remains at the Vasili’s plot.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


Recent investigation of the settlement at the slope of the hill has brought to light new residences, which were designated by Latin numbers instead of the Latin letters given by the first excavator.59 The new houses were revealed mainly at the northwest side of the slope, which provided a full view of the plain extending north of the hill. All houses belong to the two general categories defined by Boardman. Exceptional, however, among the excavated remains, appears to be a oneroomed building due to its circular plan, that was traced at the foothill of the slope below the Lower Megaron, and it was interpreted as a workshop. At the interior of this circular building (VII), a rocky outcropping on which the central roof support was standing, a rectangular cache and a pithos were found preserved.60

Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη, Α. 2003. Εμποριό. Ένας οικισμός των πρώιμων ιστορικών χρόνων. Chios: 20th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities, Hellenic Ministry of Culture. Αρχοντίδου, Α. 2004. Πρωτογεωμετρική Κεραμική από τη Χίο. In Ν. Χρ. Σταμπολίδης and Α. Γιαννικουρή (ed.) Το Αιγαίο στην Πρώιμη Εποχή του Σιδήρου. Πρακτικά του Διεθνούς Συμποσίου. Ρόδος, 1 – 4 Νοεμβρίου 2002: 207 – 214. Athens: University of Crete and Hellenic Ministry of Culture/ Archaeological Institute of Aegean Studies. Aytaҫlar, Ν. 2004. The Early Iron Age at Klazomenai. In A. Moustaka, E. Skarlatidou, M.-C. Tzannes and Y. Ersoy (ed.) Klazomenai, Teos and Abdera: Metropoleis and Colony. Proccedings of the International Symposium held at the Archaeological Museum of Abdera, Abdera, 20-21 October 2001: 17-41. Tsessaloniki 2004: 19th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities of Komotini under the Auspices of the Greek Ministry of Culture. Betancourt, P. 1977. The Aeolic style in Architecture. A Survey of its Development in Palestine, the Halikarnassos Peninsula and Greece, 1000-500 B.C., Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press. Beaumont, L. and Archontidou-Argyri, A. 2004. Excavations at Kato Phana, Chios: 1999, 2000 and 2001. In BSA 99: 201-255, pl.15-22. Beaumont, L.A. 2011. Chios in the ‘Dark Ages’: New Evidence from Kato Phana. In A. Mazarakis Ainian (ed.) The ‘Dark Ages’ Revisited. Acts of an International Symposium in Memory of William D.E. Coulson. University of Thessaly, Volos 14-17 June 2007: 221-231. Volos: University of Thessaly Press. Boardman, J. Chian and Early Ionic Architecture. In AntJ 39: 170-218, pl. 26-34. Boardman, J. 1962. Two Archaic Korai in Chios. In AntPl 1: 4345, πίν. 38-41. Boardman, J. 1967. Excavations in Chios 1952-1955. Greek Emporio. In BSA Suppl. 6. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 1988. The Greek Overseas. Their Early Colonies and Trade. 4th ed. London: Thames and Hudson. Boardman, J. 2001. Πρώιμη Ελληνική Αγγειογραφία. Translated by L. Bournias. Athens: Institute of the Book – A. Kardamitsa. Brouskari, M. 1980. A Dark Age Cemetery in Erechtheion Street, Athens. In BSA 75: 13-31, pl. 1-5. Catling, R.W.V. 1998. The typology of the Protogeometric and sub-Protogeometric pottery from Troia and its Aegean context. In Studia Troica 8: 151-187. Coldstream, J.N. 1968. Greek Geometric Pottery. A Survey of Ten Local Styles and their Chronology. London. Cook, J.M. and R.V. Nicholls, with an Appendix by D.M. Pyle. 1998. The Temples of Athena. In BSA Suppl. 30. London. Desborough, V.R.d’A. 1952. Protogeometric Pottery. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Desborough, V.R.d’A. 1972. The Greek Dark Ages. London: Ernest Benn Limited. Desborough, V.R.d’A. and Dickinson, T.P.K. 1980. The Protogeometric and Sub-Protogeometric Pottery. In M.R. Popham, L.H. Sackett and P.G. Themelis (ed) Lefkandi I. The Iron Age. In BSA Suppl. 11: 27-56. London: Thames and Hudson. Δημοπούλου, Κ. 1982. Το μυκηναϊκό ιερό στο Αμύκλαιο και η ΥΕΙΙΙΓ περίοδος στη Λακωνία. Ph.D.: University of Athens.

The only examples of multi-roomed buildings at Emporios, which were recovered– and were partially studied –within the limits of the project’s excavation area, had first been unearthed during 2002-2003. In particular, they are two buildings, arranged parallel to each other; the northern narrow side of the west one has the form of a wide apsis.61 Future research of these buildings that appear to be of public use is certainly expected to enhance our knowledge regarding the settlement’s organization, expansion and character. As far as the site planning is concerned, new elements have turned out during the enhancement of the site, as three pathways have been traced. These led from the central road to various house clusters, following the slope’s height discrepancies and the retaining walls that reinforced it. Stone staircases secured access to the most inaccessible houses. The settlement planning at the hill’s slope does not show urban cohesion, but is adjusted to the barren, rocky terrain, as deduced from the archaeological evidence, recent and old. The hill’s location, the plains that embrace its foothills and the natural anchorage offered the settlement’s inhabitants natural protection, access to the sea and product selfsufficiency. The settlement was peacefully abandoned shortly before the end of the 7th century B.C. for unknown reasons. The pioneering work of John Boardman and the British School at Athens at Emporios has undoubtedly marked the archaeological research on Chios, as well as on the northeastern Aegean. The excavations, conducted at the site of the Sanctuary and of Prophet Elias many years later, along with the newly discovered finds, reinforced the assumptions and remarks of the first excavator. With J. Boardman’s fundamental publication Greek Emporio as our guide, we hope that we were worthy continuers of the archaeological research on this land, with which he was inextricably linked.

82-87. 59  Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη 2003: 28, 40, 42-43. 60  Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη 2003: 50. 61  Αρχοντίδου-Αργύρη 2003: 5, nr. 21.


Kokona Roungou and Eleni Vouligea – Greek Emporios in Chios

Gimatzidis, S. 2010. Die Stadt Sindos. Eine Siedlung von der späten Bronze- bis zur Klassischen Zeit am Thermaischen Golf in Makedonien. Prähistorische Archäologie in Südosteuropa 21. Rahden/Westf.: Verlag Marie Leidorf GMBH. Guggisberg, M.A. 1996. Frühgriechische Tierkeramik: zur Entwicklung und Bedeutung der Tiergefässe und der hohlen Tierfiguren in der späten Bronze- und frühen Eisenzeit (ca.1600700 v. Chr.). Mainz. Heurtley W.A. and Skeat, T.C. 1930-1931. The Tholos Tomb of Marmariane. In BSA 31: 1-55, pl. I-XI. Hood, S. 1981. Excavations in Chios 1938-1955. Prehistoric Emporio and Ayio Gala I. In BSA Suppl. 15. London: Thames and Hudson. Hood, S. 1982. Excavations in Chios 1938-1955. Prehistoric Emporio and Ayio Gala II. In BSA Suppl. 16. London: Thames and Hudson. Hood, S. 1986. Mycenaeans in Chios. In J. Boardman and C.E. Vaphopoulou-Richardson (ed.) Chios. A Conference at the Homereion in Chios 1984: 169-180. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Kerschner, M. 2006. Die Ionische Wanderung im Lichte neuer archäologischer Forschungen in Ephesos. In E. Olshausen – H. Sonnabend (ed.) ‘Troianer sind wir gewesen’ – Migrationen in der antiken Welt. Stuttgarter Kolloquium zur Historischen Geographie des Altertums 8, 2002. Geographica Historica 21: 364-382. Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag. Kerschner, M., G. Forstenpointner and U. Muss 2008. Das Artemision in den späten Bronzezeit und der frühen Eisenzeit. In U. Muss (ed.) Die Archäologie der ephesischen Artemis. Gestalt und Ritual eines Heiligtums: 33-46. Wien: Phoibos Verlag. Κούρου, Ν. 2009. Συνέχειες και ασυνέχειες. Η επικράτηση των ανδρικών θεοτήτων στα μεγάλα ιερά. In Χρ. Λούκος, Ν. Ξιφαράς and Κλ. Πατεράκη (ed.) Ubi Dubium ibi Libertas. Τιμητικός Τόμος για τον καθηγητή Νικόλα Φαράκλα: 123133. Rethymno: Editions of the Philosophical School of the University of Crete. Lamb, W. 1934-1935. Excavations at Kato Phana in Chios. In BSA 35: 138-164, pl. 27-37. Lemos, A.A. 1986. Archaic Chian pottery on Chios. In J. Boardman and C.E. Vaphopoulou-Richardson (ed.) Chios. A Conference at the Homereion in Chios: 233-249. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Lemos, I.S. and H. Hatcher. 1986. Protogeometric Skyros and Euboea. In OJA 5 (3): 323-337. Lemos, I.S. 2002. The Protogeometric Aegean. The Archaeology of the Late Eleventh and Tenth Centuries BC. Oxford Monographs on Classical Archaeology. Oxford: University Press. Lemos, I. 2012. A Northern Aegean Amphora from Xeropolis, Lefkandi. In Π. Αδάμ-Βελένη, Κ. Τζαναβάρη and Μ.

Ιντζές (ed.) δινήεσσα. Τιμητικός τόμος για την Κατερίνα Ρωμιοπούλου: 177-182. Thessaloniki: Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki Puplication. Mazarakis-Ainian, A. 1997. From rulers’ dwellings to temples. Architecture, religion and society in Early Iron Age Greece, 1100700 B.C. Studies in Mediterranean Archaeology vol. CXXI. Jonsered: Paul Åstrӧms Fӧrlag. Nicholls, R.V. 1970. Greek Votive Statuettes and Religious Continuity, ca. 1200-700 B.C. In B.R. Harris (ed.) Auckland Classical Essays presented to E.M. Blaiklock: 1-37. Auckland: University Press. Niemeier, W.-D. – Kouka, O. 2010. Jahresbericht 2009 des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts. Abteilung Athen: Samos, Heraion. In AA 2010/1. Beiheft 1 (Jahresbericht 2010): 112-114. Renfrew, C. 1985. The Archaeology of Cult. The Sanctuary at Phylakopi. In BSA Suppl. 18. Popham, M.R., L.H. Sackett and P.G. Themelis. 1980. The Tombs, Pyres and their Contents. In M.R Popham, L.H. Sackett and P.G. Themelis (ed.) Lefkandi I. The Iron Age. In BSA Suppl. 11: 109-196. London: Thames and Hudson. Ρούγγου, Κ. 2006. Μυκηναϊκή Κεραμική. In A. ΑρχοντίδουΑργύρη (ed.) Ψαρά. Ένας σταθμός στην Περιφέρεια του Μυκηναϊκού Κόσμου: 60-93. Psara: 20th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities, Hellenic Ministry of Culture. Ρουγγου, Κ. 2012. Αρχαϊκά γλυπτά από το ιερό του λιμανιού στο Εμποριό της Χίου. In G. Kokkorou-Alevras and W.D. Niemeier (ed.) Neue Funde Archaischer Plastik aus griechischen Heiligtümern und Nekropolen. Internationales Symposion. Athen, 2.-3. November 2007. Athenaia 3: 133146. München: Hirmer Verlag GmbH. Ρούγγου, Κ. 2013. Η λατρεία της Κυβέλης στο Βορειοανατολικό Αιγαίο: Λέσβος, Λήμνος, Χίος. Ph.D. University of Ioannina. Ρούγγου, Κ., Ν. Δουλουμπέκης and Γ. Κοσσυφίδου 2014. Αιολικό Ιερό Κλοπεδής Λέσβου. Mytilene: Hellenic Ministry of Culture, 20th Ephorate of Prehistoric and Classical Antiquities. Σκέρλου, Ε. 2004. Ένα ιερό της Γεωμετρικής και Αρχαϊκής περιόδου στην στην περιοχή Ηρακλής της Κω. In Ν. Χρ. Σταμπολίδης – Α. Γιαννικουρή (ed.) Το Αιγαίο στην Πρώιμη Εποχή του Σιδήρου. Πρακτικά του Διεθνούς Συμποσίου. Ρόδος, 1 – 4 Νοεμβρίου 2002: 177-188. Athens: University of Crete – Hellenic Ministry of Culture, Archaeological Institute of Aegean Studies Yalouris, E. 1976. The Archaeology and Early History of Chios. Oxford (unpublished DPhil thesis, University of Oxford). Walter, H. 1963. Ausgrabungen im Heraion von Samos (19521962).In ArchDelt 18: 286-287, pl.


Temples with a Double Cella: New Thoughts on a Little-Known Type of Temple Ugo Fusco Introduction

and Leto with her children (Apollo and Artemis) at Mantinea (8.9.1:6 ναὸς  διπλοῦς); the sanctuary of Aphrodite and Ares in the proastion of Argos (2.25.1:7 ἱερὸν διπλοῦν); the temple of Eileithyia and Sosipolis in the Panhellenic sanctuary of Olympia (6.20.3:8 ναὸς διπλοῦς) and the sacred building known as the Erechtheion on the Acropolis at Athens (1.26.5:9 οἴκημα διπλοῦν). According to scholars, Pausanias’ chose between the terms ἱερὸν/ναὸς and οἴκημα is made mainly on the basis of the ground plan and architectural form of the monument at the time of his visit: he employs ἱερὸν/ναὸς to refer to what we might call a ‘traditional temple’ type, as at Argos, Olympia and Mantinea. By contrast, he prefers the more generic and vague term οἴκημα when discussing those buildings that present evident architectural peculiarities, as at Sikyon and Athens.10 Thanks to Pausanias’ description of the floor plans of these sacred buildings, it is clear that at Sikyon the rooms and entrances are aligned on a single axis whilst at Athens they lie on different axes, though both these buildings are termed οἴκημα διπλοῦν. A more complex and problematic structure that merits a separate treatment is the Erechtheion

This article forms part of a more wide-ranging research project on cult places with a double room in the Greek world, undertaken at the Italian School of Archaeology at Athens.1 I will limit myself here to presenting some preliminary considerations on this temple typology, referring readers to the final publication of the study for a more detailed analysis. Cult buildings with a double cella have traditionally been considered a rarity in the literature on Greek architecture and as such have never been the subject of a dedicated study. Indeed, they tend to be mentioned only in passing, as in the comments of R. Ginouvès:2 ‘le cas est assez rare dans le monde grec; il peut s’agir de deux pièces jumelles, souvent précédées par un vestibule commun’ or the more recent remarks by Marie-Christine Hellmann:3 ‘Le temple à double oikos ou à cellae jumelles, non pas juxtaposées mais adossées ou reliées par un mur mitoyen, est beaucoup plus rare: deux exemples en ont été relevés en Crète, tous deux de date hellénistique et dédiés à deux divinités différentes, à Sta Lénika près d’Olonte et à Aptéra. C’est peut-être ainsi que se présentait le ‘temple double’ d’Asclépios et des Létoïdes, remarqué par Pausanias à Mantineée (VIII 9, 1), et finalement l’Érechtheion entre aussi dans cette catégorie’. An exception to this rule is the study published a few decades ago by A. Barattolo, the most recent to tackle the issue in a more constructive way, at least as concerns the literary evidence.4 In his architectural analysis of the Temple of Venus and Roma in Rome, accurately described in the title of the volume as a ‘tempio ‘greco’’ for its unusual floor plan (Figure 6), the scholar also considers the most important instances of temples with a double cella attested in both the literary and the archaeological sources. My own research suggests that the situation is more complex than has hitherto been thought and has uncovered a number of archaeological attestations not considered in the previous literature. I have collected around twenty examples of such buildings, of which a typological selection is presented in Figure 1.

enclosure you see on the left a building with two rooms (διπλοῦν  ἐστιν  οἴκημα). In the outer room lies a figure of Sleep, of which nothing remains now except the head. The inner room is given over to the Carnean Apollo; into it none may enter except the priests’, translation by Jones 1918. 6  ‘The Mantineans possess a temple composed of two parts (ναὸς  διπλοῦς), being divided almost exactly at the middle by a wall. In one part of the temple is an image of Asclepius, made by Alcamenes; the other part is a sanctuary of Leto and her children, and their images were made by Praxiteles two generations after Alcamenes. On the pedestal of these are figures of Muses together with Marsyas playing the flute. Here there is a figure of Polybius, the son of Lycortas, carved in relief upon a slab’, translation by Jones 1918. 7  ‘The road from Argos to Mantinea is not the same as that to Tegea, but begins from the gate at the Ridge. On this road is a sanctuary built with two rooms (ἱερὸν  διπλοῦν), having an entrance on the west side and another on the east. At the latter is a wooden image of Aphrodite, and at the west entrance one of Ares. They say that the images are votive offerings of Polyneices and of the Argives who joined him in the campaign to redress his wrongs’, translation by Jones 1918. 8  ‘The old woman who tends Sosipolis herself too by an Elean custom lives in chastity, bringing water for the god’s bath and setting before him barley cakes kneaded with honey. In the front part of the temple, for it is built in two parts (τοῦ ναοῦ -διπλοῦς), is an altar of Eileithyia and an entrance for the public; in the inner part Sosipolis is worshipped, and no one may enter it except the woman who tends the god, and she must wrap her head and face in a white veil’, translation by Jones 1918. 9  ‘There is also a building called the Erechtheum. Before the entrance is an altar of Zeus the Most High, on which they never sacrifice a living creature, but offer cakes, not being wont to use any wine either. Inside the entrance are altars, one to Poseidon, on which in obedience to an oracle they sacrifice also to Erechtheus, the second to the hero Butes, and the third to Hephaestus. On the walls are paintings represening members of the clan Butadae; there is also inside – the building is double (διπλοῦν γάρ ἐστι τὸ οἴκημα) – seawater in a cistern’, translation by Jones 1918. 10  Osanna 1998: 218.

Literary tradition The only surviving literary source to describe temple buildings with a double cella is Pausanias. In his Description of Greece, the Periegetes lists a total of five such structures, variously termed ἱερὸν  διπλοῦν, ναὸς  διπλοῦς and  οἴκημα διπλοῦν. Specifically, these are the city temple of Apollo Karneios at Sikyon (2.10.2:5 οἴκημα διπλοῦν); that of Asklepios The research project was funded by the Italian Accademia dei Lincei with a ‘Clelia Laviosa’ fellowship and was conducted between May 2016 and January 2017. 2  Ginouvès 1998: 41. 3  Hellmann 2006: 29. 4  Barattolo 1978. 5  ‘From here is a way to a sanctuary of Asclepius. On passing into the 1 


Ugo Fusco – Temples with a Double Cella

Figure 1. Some examples of cult buildings with a double cella: 1. Sanctuary of Apollo at Aliki; 2. Western cella (megaron) of the Temple of Athena Polias; 3. Temple of Demeter (and Kore?) at Spiliotaki; 4. Temple of Athena Nikephoros (later of Augustus and Roma?) at Pergamon; 5. Temple at Aptéra in Crete; 6. Temple of Aphrodite and Ares, at Sta Lénika in Crete (by U. Fusco). on the Athenian acropolis, for which at least two different reconstructions are possible.11 The same is true at Mantinea, where Pausanias does not clearly specify the position of the entrances and where the cellae may thus have lain parallel to or opposite one another. As concerns the principal object of this article, the temple at Argos, Pausanias does specify the arrangement of the entrances to the cult rooms: … καὶ πρὸς ἡλίου δύνοντος ἔσοδον καὶ κατὰ ἀνατολὰς ἑτέραν ἔχον …’ (‘…having an entrance on the west side and another on the east…’, trans. W.H.S. Jones); in other words, the entrances were on opposite sides. The second part of this study offers some considerations on the latter temple, which presents some similarities with the temple of Venus and Roma in Rome.

of Delos)14. Finally, the architectural arrangement with a double cella may occupy the entire monument, or just a part of it. Figure 1 presents an initial selection of temples, or parts of temples, belonging to this typology, demonstrating that the predominant model is that with parallel cellae, though of different dimensions (Figures 1, n. 1, 2, 3, 5, 6). By contrast, the type with opposing cellae is represented by just one building:15 the temple of Athena Nikephòros16 (later of Augustus and Roma?) at Pergamon, recently re-analysed by F. Coarelli17 (Figure 1, n. 4). By cross-referencing the information provided by the literary tradition with the archaeological data, we can distinguish between three different types of cult buildings with a double cella on the basis of the floor plan (Figure 2):

Archaeological Evidence

Type A – with parallel cellae divided by a party wall, with separate entrances facing in the same direction;

On an archaeological level, both buildings with a double cella are frequently attested in the Greek world for both religious and non-religious purposes.12 In the case of cult structures, both rooms may be dedicated to two or more gods; alternatively, one room may serve for the cult of a god with the other being used for some other purpose, for example as a banqueting room (the sanctuary of Apollo at Aliki,13 Figure 1, n. 1) or altar (the so-called ‘Temple of Anios’ on the island

Type B – with cellae and entrances on the same axis; Bruneau, Ducat 2005: 243, n. 68. N. 1. Sanctuary of Apollo (?) or of the Dioscuri (?) at Aliki (6th century BCE, Servais 1980; Grandjean, Salviat 2000: 162-165; Falezza 2012: 362-372); 2. Western cella (megaron) of the temple of Athena Polias (475-406/405 BCE, Hurwit 1999: 144-145; Monaco 2015: 132; Di Cesare 2015: 131-132, 134, 138 and notes 109, 111); 3. Temple of Demeter (and Kore ?) at Spiliotaki (late 6th - early 5th century BCE, Verdelis 1964: 121-122); 4. Temple of Athena Nikephoros (later of Augustus and Roma?) at Pergamon (last quarter of the 3rd century BCE, Radt 1988: 179-190; renovation of the cella in the Imperial period: Coarelli 2016: 55-59); 5. Temple at Aptéra in Crete (Hellenistic period, Sporn 2002: 266); 6. Temple of Aphrodite and Ares, at Sta Lenikà in Crete (Bousquet 1938; Sporn 2002: 68-73). 16  Radt 1988: 179-190. 17  Coarelli 2016: 55-5. 14 


Travlos 1971: 217, fig. 280 and 218, fig. 281. For general information on the monument see the recent overview in Monaco 2015: 132-136. 12  For example the pastas house: Pesando 1989: 63-72. Among the buildings with a double cella present in sanctuaries but that cannot be considered temple structures, though in some cases the interpretation is controversial, we could mention hestiatoria (banqueting rooms) on which there is a vast bibliography; see the recent overview in Leypold 2008. 13  Falezza 2012: 362-272. 11 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. The three architectural types (A, B, C) of cult buildings with a double cella (by U. Fusco).

Figure 3. Map of the Argive Plain (reprocessed from Hall 1995, fig. 1). Type C – with symmetrically opposed cellae, with independent entrances (we have chosen to represent Type C as amphiprostyle, distyle in antis, but obviously the presence of the columns is purely hypothetical). The most frequent type is certainly A whilst B, of which only one instance is attested archaeologically, is the least common and is represented only by the city temple dedicated to Apollo Karneios at Sikyon and the temple of Eileithyia and Sosipolis at Olympia, both

described by Pausanias. Type C comprises some exceptionally large temples of the Roman imperial period, including the temple of Venus and Roma18 (105.73x48.22 m) in Rome and the Artemision of Sardis19 (99.16x45.73 m), dedicated to Artemis and Antoninus Pius/Faustina. 18  19 


Barattolo 1978; Fraioli 2012. Cahill, Greenewalt jr. 2016.

Ugo Fusco – Temples with a Double Cella

Figure 4. The road towards Mantinea, with diagonal lines marking the area where the temple described by Pausanias may have been located (reprocessed from Google Earth). Temple of Aphrodite and Ares at Argos (Figure 3). Our only eyewitness description of this Argive sanctuary is the brief account provided by Pausanias (2.25.1)20, which unfortunately tells us nothing of its precise location, ground plan, elevations, chronology or architectural and sculptural decorations.

at an altar (‘ὁ  δὲ  καταφυγὼν  ἐπὶ  τὸν  βωμὸν  περιγίγνεται’), which evidently stood in the vicinity. There must therefore have been at least two distinct sacred areas near the river Charadros: the sanctuary of Aphrodite and Ares, and the altar of an unknown god. The presence of these cult installations is indicative of the religious importance that the river course held for the city. In this context, we should note that, according to J.M. Hall, the Charadros marked the boundary of Argive territory during the Archaic period and therefore had a prominent function on a political, economic and military level.24

Location. Thanks to the information provided by W. Vollgraff21 in his topographical study of Argive territory dating to the very early 20th century, cross-referenced with the short account by Pausanias, we can locate the sanctuary near the ancient river Charadros, now known as the Xerias (Figure 4), which loops protectively around the periurban area of Argos to the north and east (Figure 3). According to some scholars, the vicinity of the cult place to the river is explained by the latter’s important role in ancient times as a kind of final sacred boundary demarcating the area in which any military disputes arising during expeditions were settled before the Argive army re-entered the city.22 A passage from Thucydides illustrates this particular role played by the river23 (5.60.6). According to the Greek historian, the Argive army was returning to the city in 418 BCE after an encounter with the Spartans in the plains to the north of Argos. On reaching the river Charadros, the troops made a halt and attempted to stone Thrasyllus, one of the five generals, who was guilty of single-handedly agreeing a truce with the enemy. Thrasyllus survived this incident by seeking refuge

Cult statues. According to Pausanias, both of the sanctuary’s cult statues were xoana, dedicated by Polynices and his Argive allies.25 Scholars have interpreted this strange mythological reference as indicative of Pausanias’ desire either to underline the antiquity of this cult place,26 or to stress the strong ties between this sanctuary and the sphere of war.27 Unfortunately, the two cult statues are no longer extant, but some attempts have been made to identify images of them on coin series (Figure 5). Again thanks to Pausanias, we know that the statues stood at the entrances to the two rooms and not, as was usually the case, inside them: the chamber dedicated to Aphrodite lay to the east and that sacred to Ares to the west. The divine association Aphrodite-Ares has recently been the subject of some detailed studies. Though the presence of Ares in a context linked to war is to be expected, there has been a heated debate over that of Aphrodite, paired with the god Ares since Homer and Hesiod.28 Two competing theories have been proposed. One of these, championed by V. Pirenne-Delforge, interprets the association of these two gods as an ‘opposition complémentaire’ that is also reflected on a concrete level in the architectural layout of

See note 7. 21  ‘Nous plaçons ce temple (i.e. the sanctuary with a double cella) à droite de la route actuelle de Mantinée, à un quart d’heure de distance de l’ancienne porte de la Deiras. C’est là que commence le chemin qui mène à la source dite Akoa’, Vollgraff 1907: 180-181, see also Kophiniotis 1892: 124. No further information has been found as yet on the location of the Akoa spring, but it is worth noting the presence of a place named Akoba in the area under consideration, where the church of Aghios Nikolaos stands. 22  Tomlinson 1972: 208; Pirenne-Delforge 1994:167-168; Pironti 2007: 256. 23  ‘And so on their return they (the Argives) began to stone Thrasyllus in the bed of the Charadrus, where before they enter the city all causes are tried that arise from an expedition. But he fled for refuge to the altar and was saved; his property however was confiscated’, translation by Forster Smith 1959. See also Gomme, Andrewes, Dover 1970: 86. 20 

Hall1995: 590. Donohue 1988: 376, nº 218. 26  Pirenne-Delforge 1994:168, 170. 27  Pironti 2007: 256-257. 28  Hom. Il. 5.355-363 and Od. 8.266-366; Hes. Theog. 933-937. 24 



Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

between the goddess Aphrodite and the world of war and military life, offering a wealth of evidence to show her close association with the martial sphere.30 On the latter view, Aphrodite’s pairing with Ares is not antithetical but rather fully complementary. Reconstruction. Pausanias’ description of the temple at Argos places it in our type C (Figure 2). Sadly, though, we have no information on the chronology of the building, nor on its foundation date or any renovations and/or reconstructions that may have occurred before Pausanias visited in around the mid-2nd century AD. By themselves, the analogies of ground plan between the temple at Argos and that of Venus and Roma31 in Rome (Figure 6) do not allow us to advance any further Figure 5. Images on coins showing the cult statues of Aphrodite and Ares (after hypotheses regarding the former’s potential Oikonomides 1964, pl. L, nos. L, LI= New enlarged edition of Imhoof-Blumer, Gardner, architectural influences on the latter London 1887). (Figure 7). However, it is worth mentioning that the emperor Hadrian visited the city of the monument itself ‘comme si leur localisation constituait Argos (and perhaps also the temple of Aphrodite and Ares) un cheminement de la guerre à la concorde’.29 The second during one of his journeys, likely in 124 CE32 before work theory, proposed by G. Pironti, reinterprets the relationship began on the temple in Rome.

Figure 6. Reconstructed plan of the Temple of Venus and Roma in the Hadrianic phase (after Fraioli 2012, pl. 102). Pironti 2007: 237-241, 257-258, 276-277. Fraioli 2012. 32  Birley 1997: 179. 30  29 


Pirenne-Delforge 1994: 167-169, 450-454.


Ugo Fusco – Temples with a Double Cella

Figure 7. Hypothetical reconstruction of the layout of the sanctuary of Aphrodite and Ares in the periurban area of Argos (by U. Fusco). Acknowledgements

ensembles (Collection de l’Ecole française de Rome 84). Rome: Ecole française de Rome. Gomme, A.W., Andrewes, A., Dover, K.J. 1970. A Historical Commentary on Thucydides. Oxford: At the Clarendon Press. Grandjean, Y., Salviat, F. 2000. Guide de Thasos (Sites et monuments 3, second edition). Athènes: École française d’Athènes. Hall, J.M. 1995. How Argive was the ‘Argive’ Heraion ? The Political and Cultic Geography of the Argive Plain, 900-400 B.C. In AJA 99, n. 4: 577-613. Hellmann, M.-C. 2006. L’architecture grecque 2. Architecture religieuse et funéraire. Paris: Picard. Hurwit, J.M. 1999. The Athenian Acropolis. History, Mythology, and Archaeology from the Neolithic Era to the Present. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Imhoof-Blumer, G. 1887. Numismatic Commentary on Pausanias. London, Bungay: Richard Clay and sons. Jones, W.H.S. 1918. Pausanias. Description of Greece I. Books I and II (The Loeb Classical Library). London: Cambridge, MA. Kophiniotis, J. 1892. Ἱστορία τοῦ Ἄϱγους. Athens. Leypold, C. 2008. Bankettgebäude in griechischen Heiligtümern. Wiesbaden: Reichert. Monaco, M.C. 2015. Eretteo. In E. Greco, Topografia di Atene. Sviluppo urbano e monumenti dalle origini al III secolo d.C., Tomo 1: Acropoli – Areopago – Tra Acropoli e Pnice (Collana SATAA): 132-136. Atene, Paestum: Scuola Archeologica Italiana di Atene - Pandemos. Oikonomides, A.N. 1964. Ancient Coins Illustrating Lost Masterpieces of Greek Art: a Numismatic Commentary on Pausanias. Chicago: Argonaut. Osanna, M. 1998. Descrizione autoptica e rielaborazione ‘a tavolino’ in Pausania: il caso di Aigeira. In V. PirenneDelforge (ed.), Les Panthéons des cités. Des origines à la Périégèse de Pausanias. Actes du Colloque organisé à l’Université de Liège du 15 au 17 mai 1997 (Kernos, suppl. 8): 209-226. Liège: Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique. Pesando, F. 1989. La casa dei Greci (Biblioteca di Archeologia 11). Milano: Longanesi. Pirenne-Delforge, V. 1994. L’Aphrodite grecque. Contribution à l’étude de ses cultes et de sa personnalité dans le panthéon arcaïque et classique (Kernos, suppl. 4). Athènes, Liège: Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique. Pironti, G. 2007. Entre ciel et guerre. Figures d’Aphrodite en Grèce ancienne (Kernos, suppl. 18). Liège: Centre International d’Étude de la Religion Grecque Antique.

I wish to thank the organizers of the Conference for giving me the opportunity to present these preliminary data from my research project; Prof. E. Papi, director of the Italian School of Archaeology at Athens; Prof. N. Bookidis of the American School at Athens and Prof. I. Patera for their advice and the interest with which they have followed this study; my friends L. Argentieri, G. Colesanti and G. Marginesu for discussing some aspects of this research project; G. Pelucchini and F. Soriano for assistance with plans and illustrations. Bibliography Barattolo, A. 1978. Il Tempio di Venere e di Roma: un tempio ‘greco’ nell’Urbe. In RM 85: 397-410. Birley, R.A. 1997. Hadrian. The restless emperor. London: Routledge. Bousquet, J. 1938. Le temple d’Aphrodite et d’Arès à Sta Lenikà. In BCH 62: 387-408. Bruneau, Ph., Ducat, J. 2005. Guide de Délos (Sites et monuments 1). Paris: De Boccard; Athènes: École française d‘Athènes. Cahill, N., Greenewalt jr., C.H. 2016. The Sanctuary of Artemis at Sardis: Preliminary Report, 2002-2012. In AJA 120, n. 3: 473-507. Coarelli, F. 2016. Pergamo e il Re. Forma e funzioni di una capitale ellenistica (‹Studi Ellenistici›, supplementi III). Pisa, Roma: Fabrizio Serra editore. Di Cesare, R. 2015. La città di Cecrope. Ricerche sulla politica edilizia cimoniana ad Atene (SATAA 11). Atene, Paestum: Scuola Archeologica Italiana di Atene - Pandemos. Donohue, A.A. 1988. Xoana and the Origins of Greek Sculpture (American Classical Studies, 15). Atlanta: Scholars Press. Falezza, G. 2012. I santuari della Macedonia in età romana. Persistenza e cambiamenti del paesaggio sacro tra II secolo a.C. e IV secolo a.C. (Antenor Quaderni 25). Roma: Quasar. Forster Smith, Ch. 1959. Thucydides. Hisotry of the Peloponnesian War. Books V and VI (The Loeb Classical Library). London: Cambridge, MA. Fraioli, F. 2012. Regio IV. Templus Pacis. In A. Carandini con P. Carafa (eds.) Atlante di Roma antica. Biografia e ritratti della città: 281-306. Verona: Electa. Ginouvès, R. 1998. Dictionnaire méthodique de l’architecture grecque et romaine  III. Espaces architecturaux, bâtiments et


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Radt, W. 1988. Pergamon. Geschichte und Bauten, Funde und Erforschung einer antiken Metropole. Köln: DuMont. Servais, J. 1980. Aliki, I. Les deux sanctuaires (Études thasiennes 9). Athènes: École française d‘Athènes. Sporn, K. 2002. Heiligtümer und Kulte Kretas in klassischer und hellenistischer Zeit (Studien zu antiken Heiligtümern, Band 3). Heidelberg: Verlag Archäologie und Geschichte.

Tomlinson, R.A. 1972. Argos and the Argolid. From the End of the Bronze Age to the Roman Occupation. London: Routledge & Paul. Travlos, J. 1971. Bildlexikon zur Topographie des antiken Athen. Tübingen: Wasmuth. Verdelis, N.M. 1964. Ἀνασκαφὴ εἰς θέσιν Σπηλιωτάκη. In ArchDelt 19, Chronika B.1: 121-122. Vollgraff, W. 1907. Fouilles d’Argos. In BCH 31: 139-184.


Terracotas and Metal



Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos: The God’s Terracottas at Cycladic Sanctuaries Erica Angliker1 Introduction1

figure vase that depicts the god as a master of animals – a precious piece of evidence as it is one of the few surviving Cycladic portrayals of Dionysos from an earlier period.7 A giant kouros left unfinished on the island of Naxos may also be amongst the earliest representations of the god.8 A few redfigure Attic kraters with depictions of Dionysos have recently been discovered at the sanctuary of Despotiko in a building that may have functioned as a hestiatorion.9 The kraters are probably not linked to the cult of Dionysos as this sanctuary hosted a cult of Apollo; more likely the ceramic items were used exclusively for ritual meals. Nonetheless, these works indicate an awareness of Dionysos in the Cyclades. More significant images of and for the god appear at particular sanctuaries on the islands of Kea, Naxos, Amorgos and Delos.

A recent survey of cult practices in the Cyclades has revealed that Dionysos was worshipped in both the private and public sphere on at least eleven islands of the Cycladic archipelago (Amorgos, Andros, Delos, Ios, Kea, Melos, Mykonos, Naxos, Paros, Siphnos and Thera).2 Six of these (Amorgos, Andros, Delos, Kea, Naxos, Thera) had sanctuaries dedicated to Dionysos, three of which (Amorgos, Kea, Naxos) were of considerable size. The existence of large Dionysian sanctuaries in the archipelago is remarkable because though Dionysos was worshipped throughout Greece, he was generally granted small sanctuaries. Substantial ones, therefore, were exceptional.3 Although not all material retrieved from Cycladic sanctuaries has been fully published, what is currently available offers a unique opportunity to examine tangible traces of the god.

Let us begin our discussion with images of Dionysos. Although there is no direct evidence associating images found at Cycladic sanctuaries with Dionysos, there are many highly compelling features that permit us to infer a link with the god. The most ancient of these comes from the sanctuary at Ayia Irini on Koressia, one of the four cities on the island of Kea.10 The sanctuary was active without interruption from the Middle Bronze Age until the 3rd century BC.11 Of particular interest to the present study is an Iron Age shrine (Room 1), which was found intact after being sealed by massive rocks that fell around it during an earthquake in the 8th century BC (Figure 1).12 Discovered here was the reused head of a clay statue, placed on a clay ring-base on the floor (Figure 2).13 The head may be among the earliest representations of Dionysos. The clay statue has been dated to the LC II/LMIB period (15001425 BC) and is one of fifty large-scale terracotta statues of female figures recovered from different parts of the sanctuary (principally in Rooms 1 and 6). The statues are approximately 0.70-1.20m in height and depict bare-breasted women wearing skirts, standing with their hands on their hips, possibly dancing.14 Their meaning has been much debated by scholars, who wonder whether they represent priestesses or various divinities, and whether they were used separately or

Within this context, this paper examines a class of objects bound to the cult of Dionysos in the Cyclades, namely, terracottas used either as images of or for the god.4 Starting from the idea that the region is an ‘islandscape’ that fosters maritime interconnectivity and facilitates the dissemination of ideas, materials and people across the Aegean, we investigate important commonalities of terracotta images of and for Dionysos that have been found on various islands within the archipelago. 5 We analyse the use of these terracottas within their respective archaeological contexts and trace common characteristics of their usage throughout the Cyclades. In order to better understand some of the conspicuous characteristics of these terracottas, we also compare them to what is currently known about images of and for Dionysos from epigraphic evidence and painting on vases. Lastly, we investigate the ephemeral character of the terracottas in their association with the cult of Dionysos. Images of Dionysos in the Cyclades: Terracottas from Kea and Naxos The god Dionysos was well known amongst the Cycladic people. A fragment of a work by Archilochos mentions a dithyrambic song to Dionysos, revealing that he was worshipped on Paros.6 Likewise found on Paros is a black-

Papastamos 1970, p. 55-58 and plates 10-11; Zaphiropoulou 2003, p. 49. 8  Morris 2007. 9  The vases from Despotiko are still unpublished. I thank Yannos Kourayos, the director of the excavations at Despotiko, for making me aware of this recently-discovered material (2016). For general information about the sanctuary of Despotiko see Kourayos 2012 and Kourayos-Daifa-Papajanni 2012. 10  Reger 1997, p.479; Sheedy 2006, p.22. 11  Caskey 1981; Caskey 1984; Caskey 1986; Caskey 1998; Caskey 2009; Gorogianni 2011. 12  The shrine was preserved because some great beams and stones collapsed and fell all around the head of the statue but miraculously did not break it. The heavy stones discouraged subsequent cleaning of this space and prohibited access to the shrine. 13  Caskey 2009. 14  Caskey 1981. For a recent reconstruction of these statues, see Hassaki 2018. 7 

Institute of Classical Studies, School of Advanced Study (University of London). 2  Angliker (unpublished PhD thesis). On archaic sanctuaries in the Cyclades (including some dedicated to Dionysos), see Angliker 2017, p.37-41. 3  Cole 2010. 4  For general problems understanding Dionysic ritual see Otto 1939; Henrichs 1978, 1982 and 2013; Bremmer 2013. 5  See Horden and Purcell 2000. On the interconnectivity of the Aegean see also Brun 1998; Constantakopoulou 2010, 2016 and 2017; Broodbank 2000 and 2014. 6  Archilochos, Fragment 96 (West). 1 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 1. Plan of the sanctuary in Ayia Irini. After M. Caskey, Courtesy Department of Classics, University of Cincinnati.

Figure 2. Head of terracotta statue reused on a ring base in the Iron Age shrine of the sanctuary at Ayia Irini. Courtesy Department of Classics, University of Cincinnati. all together.15 Regardless of these disputes, all that matters to the present discussion is that the clay head found inside this Iron Age shrine offers suggestive evidence that this same structure was linked to the cult of Dionysos. Indeed, incontestable proof of the god’s cult has been found on an Attic skyphos (6th century BC) inscribed with a dedication to the god by a man named Anthippos from Ioulis (another city on Kea). This artefact was discovered in the SE corner 15 

of Room 1, precisely where the Iron Age shrine is located. Other inscribed ceramics dedicated to Dionysos have also come to light in this room.16 The proximity of the shrine to the place where the inscribed ceramics were found prompted Miriam Caskey, the sanctuary’s excavator, to suggest that all the items in the area were most likely related to the cult of Dionysos.17 The presence of this deity in the sanctuary of 16 

Caskey 2009.



Gorogianni 2011. Caskey 2009.

Erica Angliker – Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos

Figure 3. Lekythos from Attica, black figure with white background (ca. last quarter of the 6 century BC). After Metzger 1994 fig.2. Ayia Irini is, in fact, suggested in various ways. Indeed, his cult here may even predate the Iron Age. The remains of burnt offerings found on an eschara inside the sanctuary are significant, considering that a Mycenaean tablet from Pylos refers to a Dionysian cult associated with an eschara.18 Finally, the uninterrupted practice of cultic activities at Ayia Irini suggests the continuation of the cult. 19

devoted to the god (on Amorgos and Naxos) also served as sites of chthonic cults in very early periods.22 If we accept that the head deposited at the Iron Age shrine is associated with the cult of Dionysos, we can continue to make interesting observations by comparing it to images of the god on ceramics.23 Whatever the meaning of the statue in the Bronze Age, it clearly acquired new significance in the Iron Age shrine. One conspicuous feature of this ensemble is that an object taken from another context was arranged in a composition with other elements to construct a new image (perhaps an effigy of Dionysos?). If we turn to wellknown later depictions of the mask of Dionysos, which was deliberately mounted on a pillar to serve as a cultic image, we find certain similarities to the clay head found at the sanctuary of Ayia Irini.24 The effigy of the god on the pillar was combined with textiles, plants and circular cakes that were affixed to its shoulders. The final composition was therefore ephemeral in nature because all the components were perishable. Indeed, looking at the representation on vases, one wonders whether these images were assembled for a single occasion or were of a more permanent character. The composition at Ayia Irini is centred on the god’s face and is mounted. Here, too, it is impossible to determine whether it was used on a single occasion or intended to be permanent. Obviously, the depictions of Dionysian masks on vases are

If we accept that Dionysos was already being worshipped at Ayia Irini by the Iron Age, then some interesting claims can be made by comparing the Bronze Age head (from the Iron Age shrine at Ayia Irini) with later images of Dionysos, particularly those on Attic vases or described in literary sources. Obviously there is a considerable time gap between the Iron Age head and later materials and sources, but the similarities are conspicuous and may shed some light on the meaning of the image at Ayia Irini. The first characteristic that draws attention is the way in which the Bronze Age head is arranged on the clay base; the excavators immediately interpreted it as a representation of the anodos of Dionysos, a scene that appears on some Attic vases from the 6th to 4th centuries BC (Figure 3).20 The arrangement is not without significance as scenes of the anodos on vases are connected to chthonic rituals, which were also important to the cult practices held at Ayia Irini.21 As chthonic rituals seem to have been an important aspect of the early cult of Dionysos in the Cyclades, it is interesting to note that two other sanctuaries

For a general overview on the chthonic aspects of the cult of Dionysos in the Cyclades see Angliker 2017. For more information about chthonic practices and the cult of Dionysos on Kea, Naxos and Amorgos, see respectively: Caskey 2009; Simantoni-Bournias 2002; Marankou 1998. 23  Berard-Bron 1990; Frontisi-Ducroux 1991 and 2015, p. 319-320. 24  For a discussion of vase images in reference to rituals, see BerardBron 1990 and Frontisi-Ducroux 2015, p. 319-320. 22 

Caskey 2009; Melena 2000-2001. The cult of Dionysos is epigraphically well attested in the first millennium. For a review of Mycenaean evidence of the cult of Dionysos, see Bernabé 2013. 19  Caskey 2009. 20  Metzger 1944. 21  Ibid. 18 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

bearded, while the one from Kea, because it is a reused female face, is not.

the mask with great care, estimated that it was originally between 20 and 22 cm in length.28 She also showed that the clay was of Naxian origin and its painted features identical to Naxian motifs used on ceramics of the Geometric period. The eyes are pierced and contoured with black ink, which was also used for the eyebrows. The chin is very pronounced and displays a painted beard. Lozenges decorate the base of the mask. A small hole was certainly used for threading a strap so that the mask could be affixed either to a human face or to some kind of device. The mask’s large size along with its pierced eyes and holes suggest that it was not brought to the sanctuary and simply dedicated as a votive object, but was probably used ceremoniously before being deposited. 29

The integration of a Dionysian face into a composition with the intention of creating a cult image is a phenomenon also encountered on other islands of the Cyclades. A literary source refers to the crafting of a prosopon of Dionysos on Naxos (where Dionysos was one of the most important divinities of the local pantheon): one version is made from the wood of a fig tree and the other from the wood of a grapevine.25 The literary source mentioning the construction of the cult image of Dionysos from a mask mounted on a pillar is revealing; it attests to the fact that this ritual practice was known in the Cycladic archipelago and was therefore not restricted to the area of Attica.26

Masks were only rarely dedicated in Greek sanctuaries (e.g. in the sanctuary of Artemis in Orthia at Sparta or at the Heraion in both Samos and Tyrins).30 Nevertheless, as shown by Simantoni-Bournias, the Naxian mask is typologically very different from similar items found at Greek sanctuaries. She notes that it actually resembles masks from the Geometric era on Cyprus, an island that maintained close contact with Naxos during this period. She suggests that in this context,

This valuable information also provides us with an opportunity to reinterpret a clay mask found at the sanctuary of Dionysos at Iria on Naxos (Figure 4).27 Dated to 700 BC, the mask is the only item of its kind encountered at the site (Figure 5). It was found in fragmentary condition, but with enough pieces to enable a reconstruction. Simantoni-Bournias, who studied

Figure 4. Sanctuary of Dionysus in Iria, Naxos. Photo by E. Angliker. Ibid. Ibid. 30  For the sanctuary of Artemis Orthia in Sparta see Dawkins 1929 and Carter1987; for the Heraion in Samos, see Jarosch1994, p.92 and plate 70; on Tyrins, see Loucas-Durie 1986. 28 

Ath. III 78c = FGrHist 499 F4. See also comments by Savo 2004, p. 158-159. 26  Berard-Bron 1990; Frontisi-Ducroux 1991 and 2015, p. 319-320. 27  Simantoni-Bournias 2004-2005. 25 



Erica Angliker – Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos

Figure 5. Mask of Dionysos from the sanctuary of Iria on Naxos. After Simantoni-Bournias 2004-2005, p.121, fig.1. the Naxian mask would have served a similar function to that of its prototype on Cyprus, where masks were dedicated at sanctuaries hosting cults of a female fertility goddess and her consort.31 Given that the sanctuary at Iria on Cyprus houses a cult of Dionysos, Simantoni-Bournias hypothesizes that the female divinity may have been Ariadne (whose cult is attested to by literary sources linked to Naxian traditions) and whose consort is Dionysos. 32 Interesting as this hypothesis may be, it is problematic insofar as there is no evidence indicating that Ariadne was worshipped at Iria. Furthermore, in view of the evidence from Kea and Naxian literary sources referring to the prosopon of Dionysos, it seems more reasonable to interpret this mask as an object used to construct the image of Dionysos in ways similar to those seen in representations on 31  32 

ceramics (Figure 6). Like these, the mask from Iria may have been an ephemeral representation of Dionysos in which his image was formed by joining his face to different materials. Such an interpretation of the mask is also in keeping with other evidence of the cult of Dionysos at Iria. Indeed, as in Ayia Irini, the cults at Iria included chthonic practices, which likewise existed on Amorgos (see below). In addition to the observation that the mask was probably used as an effigy of Dionysos, some other general claims can be made regarding the Dionysian cult at Iria on Naxos. The sanctuary was active for a long period, from the Bronze Age until the Roman era. 33 As in the case of Ayia Irini on Kea, it is

Simantoni-Bournias 2004-2005. Ibid.

For an identification of the sanctuary at Iria on Naxos with Dionysos, see Simantoni-Bournias 2002. 33 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 6. Red-figure kylix, Berlin F 2290. After Frontisi-Ducroux 2015, pl.XXVI. difficult to affirm whether Dionysos was worshiped in earlier periods (e.g. during the Bronze and Iron Ages). However, the god was probably venerated at Iria during the Archaic period.34 Given the fact that this was a rural sanctuary in which various communities from Naxos would gather, one may assume that the cult was also bound to rituals related to the female world, particularly to marriage.35 Indeed the great quantity of jewellery and protomes suggests the existence of a cult with a strong connection to the female universe.36

Let us begin by considering clay figurines found at the sanctuary at Iria on Naxos. These terracottas date to some time between the Archaic and Hellenistic periods and include statuettes of an enthroned goddess, as well as figurines of children and other female figures (Figure 7).39 Most of these terracotta items are similar to those found at other Greek sanctuaries. In the Cyclades, for example, similar objects have surfaced at the sanctuaries of Apollo on Despotiko or the Delion on Paros (dedicated to Apollo and Artemis).40 Save the protomes, which are known to have been associated with marriage rituals, most do not reveal any specific information about the prerogatives of Dionysos,41 Beyond this, only general remarks can be made. The number and variety of votives from Iria (to which the clay items belong) can be interpreted as indicative of the sanctuary’s importance in bringing together urban and rural communities.42

Images for Dionysos in the Cyclades: Terracottas from Naxos, Amorgos and Delos Moving now to images dedicated to Dionysos, we find ourselves on more solid terrain, where objects can incontrovertibly be associated with the cult of the god. Terracottas dedicated to Dionysos have come to light at four sanctuaries: Ayia Irini (Kea), Iria (Naxos), Delos and Amorgos.37 Interesting to note is that the previously discussed images of Dionysos were found at the sanctuaries of Kea and Naxos. In this section, we discuss solely those terracotta objects presented to the god at the sanctuaries of Iria (Naxos), Amorgos and Delos.38

Moving now to the sanctuary of Minoa (Figure 8), a city on the island of Amorgos, we find some unique terracottas dedicated to Dionysos; in particular, phallus-spouted kantharoi.43 The clay used in these over-sized vases is crude; moreover, the phallus communicates with the body of the vase through a channel (Figure 9). Although vases with appended male genitalia are common in antiquity and are sometimes associated with Dionysos, the kantharos with a spouted phallus is not particularly common.44 Most of the phallus-

Simantoni-Bournias 2002. Evidence from coins clearly indicates that Dionysos was already being worshiped on Naxos by the Archaic period; see Sheedy 2006, p.87-88. 35  Simantoni-Bournias 2002. 36  For the relation between the dedication of protomes and the rituals of marriage see Muller 2009. 37  Kea: Caskey 2009; Amorgos: Marankou 2002a; Marankou 2002b; Naxos: Simantoni-Bournias 2002; Delos: Bruneau 1970, p.314-319. 38  Because votives from the sanctuary at Ayia Irini on Kea are only partially published, the figurines from this site cannot be included in the present discussion. 34 

Simantoni-Bournias 2004-2005. For the sanctuary of Apollo on Despotiko, see Kourayos-DaifaPapajanni 2012; for the Delion on Paros see Rubensohn 1962, p.143154. 41  Simantoni-Bournias 2015. For the relation of protomes and rituals of marriage, see Muller 2009. 42  Simantoni-Bournias 2002 and 2015. 43  Marankou 2002a; Marankou 2002b. 44  Malama 2009. 39  40 


Erica Angliker – Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos

Figure 7. Terracotta figurines from Naxos. After Simantoni-Bournias 2015, p. 493, figs. 4-5.

Figure 8. Amorgos, Minoa. Aerial view of the acropolis and lower city. After Marankou 2006, p. 297, fig. 445. spouted kantharoi from the sanctuary of Minoa Amorgos date to the Early Hellenistic period; some, however, are older. Most of the vases were found in the deposits of the sanctuaries, but several were uncovered in a nearby cave that is likewise associated with the cult of Dionysos.45

were discovered. This sanctuary, which flourished from the Geometric period until Imperial times, was built on the summit of the acropolis and served as the city’s principal cultic site (Figure 10).46 It was organized around an oikos (Room

A brief look at some features of the sanctuary at Minoa can help us understand the context in which the kantharoi



During the Roman period, the cult of Dionysos seems to have been absorbed by the cult of Egyptians gods; lamps, lamp fragments, plain pottery, cooking vessels and drinking cups portray themes related to Egyptian iconography (e.g. Harpocrates, Ammon-Sarpis, Osiris and Isis). See Marankou 2002a.

Marankou 2002a.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 9. Kantharoi with phallus from the sanctuary of Dionysos on Minoa. After Marankou 2002b, p. 259, figs. 241.1-3. K1), which was furnished with an altar (for making offerings) and benches (for holding banquets). Preceding Room K1 was a prodomos. (Both Room K1 and the prodomos were built during the Geometric period). In the Early Archaic era, the sanctuary was expanded with the addition of Rooms K2 and K3. Room K2 was similarly provided with a bench. During most of its existence, the cult was practised in the open air; consequently, it was only during the Hellenistic period that Room K1 received a roof. Other areas of the sanctuary (Rooms K2 and K3) continued to host open-air cultic activities. Interestingly, though new structures (Rooms K2 and K3) were added to the sanctuary in the Early Archaic period, in Minoa, as in the case of Ayia Irini on Kea, a canonical Greek temple was never constructed. Lack of resources fails to explain the decision not to grant the temple a monumental form, as in the Archaic era, the Amorgians had sufficient means to import marble statues and other precious objects.47

Let us now turn again to the phallus-spouted kantharoi from Minoa and discuss their use in the ritual practices of the sanctuary. The inscriptions found at Minoa are quite summary and do not provide specific information about the cult of Dionysos.51 Nevertheless, certain hypotheses can be made upon careful inspection of the vases. As the channel inside the phallus makes the vessel suitable for pouring liquids, the vases could have been used as rhytons. In addition to this function, however, the Minoan kantharoi could have played an important role in ritual processions, in which they would have been carried around the city before being deposited at the sanctuary. That they were made of crude pottery and that several were found at the sanctuary suggests that they were produced periodically. Although no written sources mention processions with phalluses on Amorgos, we may infer that much as in the phallic processions on Delos (see the discussion below), the Amorgian vases were carried around and then discarded after the procession or some other cultic ceremony. The disposal of the vases implies their ephemeral nature, a quality that recurs in terracottas related to the cult of Dionysos in the Cyclades (see the discussion of the sanctuaries of Ayia Irini and Iria on Naxos).

In Minoa (again, as at Ayia Irini on Kea), indisputable evidence of the cult of Dionysos dates to the later phases of the sanctuary.48 Black glazed vases dating to the Early Hellenistic period and inscribed with the name of Dionysos offer evidence of a cult dedicated to the god. Nevertheless, as with Iria on Naxos and Ayia Irini on Kea, the cult in Minoa was practised without interruption from a very early period until the cessation of activities at the sanctuary. Most interesting, however, is the fact that in Minoa (as in the case of Naxos and Kea) the cult of Dionysos was associated with chthonic practices.49 Yet, differently than in Naxos and Kea, where the sanctuaries were located in rural areas, in Minoa the worship of Dionysos took place within the boundaries of the city. 50

That phallus processions (phallophoria) were quite common in Ancient Greece has been well attested; it would be no surprise, therefore, for them to have also taken place on Amorgos. Iconographically, the best-known phallic procession is the one depicted on a unique Attic black-figure kylix (ca. 550), whose provenance is unknown and which is currently on exhibit at the Florence National Archaeological Museum (inv. n. 3897) (Figure 11).52 This vase bears phallic

Marankou 2002a. Caskey 2009. 49  For Naxos see Simantoni-Bournias 2002; for Kea, see Caskey 2009. 50  Marankou 2002a. 47 

Marankou 2002b. This unique vase has been studied by a variety of scholars and is associated with a long bibliography. Some of the more important


51  52 


Erica Angliker – Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos

K2 K1 K3



Sanctuary of Amorgos





Figure 10. Plan of the sanctuary of Minoa on Amorgos. T. Ross after Marankgou 1998, p. 16. processions on both its sides. On the principal side, six naked ithyphallic men carry a long pole that bears a resemblance to a phallus. The object has an eye on its extremity. In the back row, one man helps the others, while, in the front row, a child does the same. A large phallus with ears and eyes depicted along its entire extent rises at an angle. A huge Satyr stands over the pole and is himself straddled by a youth. The other side of the vase bears a simple composition with three bearded and three young men caring a pole in the shape of a phallus. This pole is straddled by a huge, grotesque male figure.

celebrations (agrois), phallic processions would have passed through several parts of Athens.53 Processions that used phalluses in rituals involving Dionysos also took place on other Cycladic islands, such as Delos.54 Inventories from the sanctuary on Delos, which range from 304 BC to around 166 BC, refer to the construction of an agalma with a phallus in place of a head being borne in a cart during a procession.55 While a new agalma would have been constructed each year, the cart, to which repairs were made when necessary, was used over and over again. Inscriptions also provide information about the agalma regarding the salaries of the artisans and the details of the cart’s construction. Particularly interesting is the detailed description of the object’s material composition, which included wood, nails, lead and wax. The agalma was a hybrid creature: a giant bird with wings and a phallus in place of its head.56 An image of such a

Phallic processions are also attested to by literary and epigraphic evidence, which indicates that they were held in Athens during festivals honouring Dionysos in the month of Poseidon. In their earlier days, these festivals clearly celebrated fertility. Moreover, in the course of rural Dionysian

Buschor 1943; Nilsson 1955, p.591; Kerényi 1976, p.285-288; Burkert 1983, p.69; Veyne 1985; Simon 2002; Iozzo 2009. 54  Bruneau 1970, p. 314-319. 55  A detailed study of the inscriptions of the Delian inventories are found in Bruneau 1970, p. 314-319. 56  Although the phallus-bird is usually interpreted as a disembodied expression of female sexual desire, on Delos it is clearly associated with Dionysos. See Boardman 1992. 53 

references include: Deubner 1932, p. 136; Rumpf 1928, fig. 129; Boardman 1958, fig. 4; Boardman-La Rocca 1978, p.38-40; Boardman 1988, n. 255; Carpenter 1986, p .89, pl. 22; Carpenter 1997, p. 28; Lissarrague 1990, p. 59; Lissarrague 2001, p.215 and p.175-176; Krauskopf 2005; Iozzo 2009.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 11. Attic black-figure kylix (ca. 550 BC). After Iozzo 2009, p. 261. hybrid appears on a relief decorating one of the columns of the Choragic monument of Karystios (GD 81), which is part of an altar dedicated to Dionysos.57 The evidence from Delos is particularly informative about the phallus-spouted kantharoi from Amorgos. Indeed, inventories make clear that the periodic construction of the statue was of fundamental importance to cultic activity. Once more we see the ephemeral nature of an object presented to Dionysos. Although the phallus-spouted kantharos and the hybrid bird from Delos are not identical objects, they have many similarities; both consist of a crude image (with a phallus) that is carried around in a ceremony and finally discarded, and both seem to have been fundamental to the practice of the cult of Dionysos. Conclusion The Cyclades are privileged for the understanding of the cult of Dionysos; the islands possess a number of sanctuaries dedicated to the god, some of considerable size. As evidence from Cycladic sanctuaries comes to light, it presents a rare opportunity for studying images related to the cult of Dionysos within their proper context. Although this paper could not fully explore the Dionysian cult, it manages to further knowledge on the topic by examining the relevance of a particular class Figure 12. Monument of Karystios with phallus-bird, Delos. Photo by E. Angliker.


Bruneau-Ducat 2005, p.257; Moretti 2008. 57 

Erica Angliker – Images of Dionysos, Images for Dionysos

of objects, namely terracottas. The material discussed herein (images of Dionysos and images for Dionysos, from the Cyclades) has not yet been properly incorporated into studies about the images of the god. One of the oldest representations of Dionysos comes from the sanctuary of Ayia Irini on Kea, where a Bronze Age statue was reused in an Iron Age sanctuary in a composition recalling the scene of the anodos of Dionysos, which appears on later Attic ceramics. Turning to the island of Naxos, we encounter a clay mask, which was reinterpreted as a prosopon of Dionysos, and which seems to have been attached to a pillar to create an effigy of the god. Both terracottas – from Kea and Naxos – were intended to be ephemeral images, first composed, then discarded. Interestingly, both images were also used in a cult that included chthonic practices. Cycladic sanctuaries have also revealed a number of terracottas dedicated to Dionysos. While on Naxos these consist of seated figurines and protomes (items common at other Cycladic and Greek sanctuaries), on Amorgos and Delos they are more singular objects. On Amorgos, kantharoi with phalluses made of crude clay were produced periodically to be carried in a procession and afterwards discarded. On Delos, inventories show that a hybrid creature (a bird with a phallus head) was periodically constructed and carried in a procession. At both sanctuaries, therefore, images for Dionysos were produced periodically, carried in a procession, then discarded (Figure 12). The images for Dionysos from the sanctuary of Minoa on Amorgos, as well as those from Delos, are clearly ephemeral items. This same quality can be attributed to images of Dionysos from Ayia Irini on Kea and from the sanctuary of Iria on Naxos. Images of and for Dionysos, therefore, seem to have shared a common characteristic; namely, they were ephemeral.

Bruneau, P. 1970. Recherches sur le cultes de Délos à l’époque hellénistique et à l’époque impériale. Paris: De Boccard. Bruneau, P., and J. Ducat. 2005. Guide de Délos. Athènes, Paris: Ecole française d’Athènes, De Boccard. Burkert, W. 1983. Homo Necans. The Anthropology of Ancient Greek Sacrificial Ritual Myth. Berkeley: University of California Press. Buschor, E. 1943. Satyrtänze und frühes Drama. München: Bayrische Akademie der Wissenschaften. Carpenter, T. H. 1986. Dionysian Imagery in Archaic Greek Art. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Carpenter, T. H. 1997. Dionysian Imagery in Fifth-Century Athens. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Caskey, M. E. 1981. ‘Ayia Irini, Kea. The Terracotta Statues and the Cult in the Temple.’ In Sanctuaries and Cults in the Aegean Bronze Age: Proceedings of the First International Symposium at the Swedish Institute in Athens, 12-13 May, 1980, edited by R. Hägg and N. Marinatos, 127–136. Stockholm: P. Åström. Caskey, M. E., 1984. ‘The Temple at Aya Irini Kea: Evidence for the LH IIIC Phases.’ In The Prehistoric Cyclades. Contributions to a Workshop on Cycladic Chronology, edited by J. A. MacGillivray and R.L.N. Barber, 241–254. Edinburgh: University of Edinburgh, Department of Classical Archaeology. Caskey, M. E. 1986. Keos II, Part 1. The Temple at Ayia Irini. The Statues. Princeton/New Jersey: American School of Classical Studies. Caskey, M. E., 1998. ‘Ayia Irini: Temple Studies.’ In Kea- Kythnos: History and Archaeology: Proceedings of an International Symposium, Kea - Kythnos, 22-25 June 1994, edited by L. G. Mendoni and A. J. Mazarakis Ainian, 123–138. Paris: De Boccard. Caskey, M. E. 2009. ‘Dionysos in the Temple at Ayia Irini, Kea.’ In Δώρον: τιμητικός τόμος για τον καθηγητή Σπύρο Ιακουβίδη, Δανιηλίδου Δέσποινα, 6:143–168. Athens: Athens Academy. Cole, S. G. 2010. ‘Finding Dionysus’. In A Companion to Greek Religion, edited by D. Ogden, 327–341. Malden: B. Blackwel. Constantakopoulou, C. 2010. The Dance of the Islands: Insularity, Networks, the Athenian Empire, and the Aegean World. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Constantakopoulou, C. 2016. ‘Centrality and Peripheralithy: Insularity and the Appeal of the Religious Networks of Delos and Samothrace in the Classical Hellenistic Periods.’ In Konstruktionen mediterraner Insularitäten, edited by R. von Bendemann et. alii, 75–93. Paderborn: Wilhelm Fink/ Ferdinand Schöningh. Constantakopoulou, C. 2017. Aegean Interactions. Delos and its Networks in the Third Century Interactions. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Deubner, L. 1932. Attische Feste. Berlin: H. Keller. Dierichs, A. 2008. Erotik in der Kunst Griechenlands. Mainz am Rhein: von Zabern. Frontisi-Ducroux, F. 1991. Le dieu-masque - une figure du Dionysos d’Athènes. Paris/Rome: La Découverte, Ecole française de Rome. Frontisi-Ducroux, F. 2015. ‘Images de Dionysos? Le dieu masque et son phallos.’ In Figures de dieux. Construire le divin en images, edited by S. Estienne [et al.], 319–349. Rennes: Presses universitaires de Rennes. Gorogianni, E. 2011. ‘Goddess, Lost Ancestors, and Dolls. A Cultural Biography of the Ayia Irini Terracotta Statues.’ Hesperia 80:635–655. Hassaki, E. 2018. Terracotta Statues from Ayia Irini, Kea:An Experimental Replication. In: E. Angliker and J. Tully (ed.),

Bibliography Angliker, E. 2017. ‘Worshiping the Divinities at the Archaic Sanctuaries on the Cyclades.’ In Les sanctuaires archaïques des Cyclades, edited by A. Mazarakis-Ainian, 29–53. Rennes: PU de Rennes. Angliker, E. 2017 (Unpublished PhD Thesis). Cults and Sanctuaries of the Cycladic Islands. University of Zurich. Bérard, C., and C. Bron. 1990 ‘Le Liknon, le ‘Masque’ et le Poteau. Images du rituel dionysiaque.’ In Mélanges Pierre Lévêque, edited by M. M. Mactoux and E. Geny, 4:29–44. Paris: Les Belles Lettres. Bernabé, A. 2013. ‘Dionysos in the Mycenaean World.’ In Redefining Dionysos, edited by A. Bernabé [et al.], 23–37. Berlin: De Gruyter. Boardman, J. 1958. ‘A Greek Vase from Egypt.’ Journal of Hellenic Studies 78:1–48. Boardman, J. 1988. ‘Sex Definition in Grave Vases.’ AION 10:171–178. Boardman, J. 1992. ‘The Phallos-Bird in Archaic and Classical Greek Art.’ Revue archéologique, no. 2: 227–242. Boardman, J., and E. La Rocca. 1978. Eros in Greece. London: Murray. Bremmer, J. N. 2013. ‘Walter F. Otto’s Dionysos (1933).’ In Redefining Dionysos, edited by A. Bernabé [et al.], 4–22. De Gruyter. Broodbank, C. 2000. An Island Archaeology of the Early Cyclades. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Broodbank, C. 2014. The Making of the Middle Sea. A History of the Mediterranean from the Beginning to the Emergence of the Classical World. London: Thames / Hudson.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Cycladic Archaeology And Research: New Approaches and Discoveries. Archeopress, Oxford. Henrichts, A. 1978. ‘Greek Maenadism from Olympias to Messalina.’ Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 82:121–160. Henrichts, A. 1982. ‘Changing Dyonysic Identities.’ In Selfdefinition in the Graeco-Roman World, edited by B. F. Meyer and E. P. Sanders, 137–160. Jewish and Christian SelfDefinition. SCM Press. Henrichts, A. 2013. ‘Dionysos: One or Many?’ In Redefining Dionysos, edited by A. Bernabé [et al.], 554–582. Berlin: De Gruyter. Horden, P., and N. Purcell. 2000. The Corrupting Sea. A Study of Mediterranean History. Oxford: Blackwell Publishers. Kerényi, K. 1976. Dionysos. Archetypal Image of Indestructable Life. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Kourayos, Y., K. Daifa and K. Papajanni. 2012. ‘The Sanctuary of Despotiko in the Cyclades. Excavation 2001-2012.’ Archäologischer Anzeiger 2:93–174. Kourayos, Y. 2012. Despotiko. The Sanctuary of Apollo. Athens: Paul and Alexandra Canelopoulos Foundation. Krauskopf, I. 2005. ‘Kultinstrumente, Wagen, Traggestelle und Schiffe.’ ThesCRA, no. 5: 286–295. Lissarrague, F. 1990. ‘The Sexual Life of Satyrs.’ In Before Sexuality. The Construction of Erotic Experience in the Ancient Greek World, edited by J. J. Winkler D. M. Halperin and F. I. Zeitlin, 53–81. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Lissarrague, F. 2001. Greek Vases: The Athenians and Their Images. New York: Riverside Book Co. Loucas-Durie, E. 1986. ‘θóνιo δρώμενoν και τελετoυργική μύηση. Παρατήρηση στά αρχαϊκά αργoλικά πρoσωπεία’. Πρακτικά τoυ B’ Toπικoύ Συνεδρίoυ Aργoλικών Σπoυδών, Άργoς 30 Mαϊoυ - 1 Ioυνίoυ, 299-302. Malama, P. 2009. ‘Kantharos with a Phallus-Shaped Spout. Late 4th - Early 3rd cent. BC.’ In Eros. From Hesiodo’s Theogony to Late Antiquity, edited by N. C. Stempolidis and Yorgos Tassoulas, 278. Athens: Museum of Cycladic Art. Marankou, L. 1998. ‘The Acropolis Sanctuary of Minoa on Amorgos. Cult Practice from the 8th century B.C. to the 3rd century A.D.’ In Ancient Greek Cult Practice from the Archaeological Evidence: Proceedings of the Fourth International Seminar on ancient Greek Cult, Organized by the Swedish Institute at Athens, 22-24 October 1993, edited by R. Hägg, 9–25. Stockholm: Svenska Institutet i Athen: Paul Aströms Förlag. Marankou, L. 2002a. ‘Minoa on Amorgos.’ In Excavating Classical Culture: Recent Archaeological Discoveries in Greece, edited by M. Stamatopoulou and M. Yeroulanou, 295–316. Oxford: Archaeopress. Marankou, L. 2002b. Αμοργός Ι. Η Μινώα: η πόλις, ο λιμήν και η μείζων περιφέρεια. Vol. II. Athens: Athenais Archaiologike Hetaireia. Marankou, L. 2006. ‘Amorgos.’ In Archaeology Aegean Islands, edited by A. G. Vlachopoulos, 290–297. Athens: Melissa.

Metzger, H. 1944. ‘Dionysos chthonien d’après les monuments figurés de la période classique.’ Bulletin de correspondance hellénique 68-69:296–339. Moretti, J. C. 2008. ‘Un autel de Dionysos à Delos.’ Bulletin de correspondance hellénique 1 (132): 115–152. Morris, S. P. 2007. ‘Apollo, Dionysos and Zeus: On the Sacred Landscapes of Ancient Naxos.’ In Αμύμονα έργα: τιμητικός τόμος για τον καθηγητή Β. Κ. Λαμπρινουδάκη, 96–108. Archaiognosia. Muller, A. 2009. ‘Le tout ou la partie. Encore les protomés: dédicateires ou dédicantes?’ In Le donateur, l’offrande et la déesse: systèmes votifs dans les sanctuaires de déesses du monde grec, edited by C. Prêtre, vol. Supplément 23, 81–95. Kernos. Liège: Centre international d’étude de la religion grecque antique. Nilsson, M. P. 1955. Geschichte der Griechischen Religion. Die Religion Griechenlands bis auf die griechische Weltherrschaft. Vol. I. München: C.H. Beck’sche Verlagsbuchhandlung. Otto, W. F. 1939. Dionysos. Mythos und Kultus. Frankfurt am Main: Klostermann. Papastamos, D. 1970. Melische Amphoren. Münster: Aschendorff. Reger, G. 1997. ‘Islands with one Polis Versus Islands with Several Polis.’ In The Polis as an Urban Centre and as Political Community. Symposium August, 29-31 1996, edited by M. H. Hansen, 4:450–492. Copenhagen: Munksgaard. Rubensohn, O. 1962. Das Delion von Paros. Wiesbaden: Steiner. Rumpf, A. 1928. ‘Die Religion der Griechen.’ In Bilderatlas zur Religionsgeschichte, edited by Hans Haas, 13–14. Leipzig: Erlangen. Savo, M. B. 2004. Culti, Sacerdozi e Feste delle Cicladi dell’età arcaica all’età romana. Tivoli: Tored. Sheedy, K. A. 2006. The Archaic and Early Classical Coinages of the Cyclades. London: Royal Numismatic Society. Simantoni-Bournias, E. 2002. ‘The Early Phases of the Hyria Sanctuary on Naxos. An Overview of the Pottery.’ In Excavating Classical Culture: Recent Archaeological Discoveries in Greece, edited by M. Stamatopoulou and M. Yeroulanou, 269–280. Oxford: Archaeopress. Simantoni-Bournias, E. 2004-2005. ‘Un masque humain à Hyria Naxos, nouveau témoignage de contacts chypriotes.’ Bulletin de correspondance hellénique 128-129 (119-131). Simantoni-Bournias, E. 2015. ‘Enthroned Goddesses from the Sanctuary of Hyria on Naxos.’ In Figurines de terre cuite en Méditerranée grecque et romaine, edited by E. Lafla_and A. Muller, vol. 2, Iconographie et contextes, 487–494. Villeneuve d’Ascq: Presses universitaires du Septentrion. Simon, E. 2002. Festivals of Attica. Madison-Wisconsin: University of Wisconsin Press. Veyne, P. 1985. ‘Une inscription dionysiaque peu commune.’ Bulletin de correspondance hellénique 109 (1): 621–624. Zapheiropoulou, Ph. N. 2003. La céramique ‘mélienne’. Paris: De Boccard.


An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace: Questions of Iconography and Manufacture Amalia Avramidou1 Ancient1Thrace covers an area that comprises modern-day Bulgaria and parts of Greece, Turkey, and Romania. The region is traditionally defined by the Istros River (modern Danube) to the north, the Aegean Sea to the south, and the Black Sea to the east. In antiquity, the land was rich in natural resources, including precious metals, and it was used for agriculture and pasture. Ancient Thrace was also endowed with navigable rivers and hospitable harbors. The western limits are hard to pinpoint, because of the constant movement of numerous Thracian tribes and political developments before and after the formation of the Macedonian Kingdom. Scholars usually accept the Strymon River as its western limit, and eventually the Nestos River after the Macedonian conquest of Thrace by Philip II. Of all the local tribes, the Odrysians rose to power and ruled over much of Thrace, creating the longest-standing political entity in the region for centuries.2

society and economy. Relations were officially cultivated by the Athenian state in the fifth century BCE, following the end of the Persian Wars, and they expanded after the formation of the Odrysian Kingdom at the outbreak of the Peloponnesian War. Seeking goods, new markets, and strong allies to promote her political and economic goals, Athens turned to the North to influence Greek colonial activity and to procure the support of wealthy Thracian neighbors. However, Athenian power in the region began to fade by the end of the fifth century BCE and more so with the Macedonian conquests of the following century. By the end of the fourth century BCE, the political scene in the northern Aegean and its periphery became more complicated, confounding further the relations between the Athenians and both their Greek and non-Greek allies and adversaries.4 Within this sociopolitical framework, it should come as no surprise that Athenian pottery reached coastal and inland Thrace in large quantities.5 The Athenians tried to foster stronger ties with the Odrysian aristocracy, employing what we might call today cultural diplomacy. One of the most efficient policies was that of gift-giving and giftexchange, a well-known tradition among friends and allies, be it individuals or states. The Athenians understood that the Odrysians had a soft-spot for gold and luxury items, and they purposefully cultivated it.6 A significant number of silver vessels decorated with gold-leaved narrative scenes, executed in a fashion very similar to the Attic red-figure vases of the last quarter of the fifth century BCE, are thought to have been constructed for this very purpose. They were diplomatic gifts that Athens offered to the Odrysian rulers to promote her interests.7

Because of its strategic border position between Europe and Asia, ancient Thrace attracted Greek colonists from an early period, especially those from Ionia and the Cycladic Islands. By the sixth century BCE, Greek trading posts and colonies were established across the Thracian coast of the Aegean and the western coast of the Black Sea. Later emporia would appear inland near rivers and commercial routes (e.g. Pistiros/ Vetren, Rousse) that developed along the periphery of coastal colonies. The colonization process was long and had manifold consequences for both the Greek immigrants and the local Thracians.3 Athens showed a keen interest in Thrace already by the sixth century BCE, when members of two prominent aristocratic families, Peisistratos and Miltiades I, became vested in the area. Their presence resulted in the exploitation of the silver mines at Mt Pangaion, and eventually led to the establishment of Athenian colonies and contacts with the indigenous communities. All this activity had an impact on Athenian

On Athens and Thrace, see most recently Sears 2015 and 2013; Avramidou–Tsiafaki 2015: 46–59, 112–131; Porozhanov 2011; Tsiafaki 1998. 5  In 2015, the Democritus University of Thrace and the Athena Research Center launched the research project Attic Pottery in Thrace (APT), which includes an overview of the circulation, diffusion, and usage of Attic vases in coastal and inland Thracian sites. For the preliminary results of the project, see Avramidou and Tsiafaki 2015: 112–136 and forthcoming. For an overview of different pottery wares in ancient Thrace, see Bozkova 2015 and 2017. On previous studies on Attic pottery in Thrace, see Lazarov 2003 and Reho 1990. Also, cf. Giudice, Giudice and Santagati forthcoming; Sahin 2017. For an examination of the iconography of Attic vases in Thrace with metal counterparts, see Tiverios forthcoming and Avramidou and Tsiafaki 2015: 112–136, 145–172. For Attic red–figure vases imitating Thracian shapes, see Oakley 2009; Lezzi-Hafter 1997. 6  Thucydides 2.97.4; Xenophon Anabasis 7.3.21–33. 7  For a study on Athens and its relation to silverware found in ancient Thrace, see Sideris 2015; Cf. Zimi 1994, who compares Macedonian and Thracian fourth–century BCE vessels, and Sideris 2008, Zournatzi 2000 for the circulation of Achaemenid(-style) luxury vases. For a concise overview of metal vessels in Thrace, their uses and relation to Greek and Persian art, see Valeva 2015. Cf. also the recent publications of luxury metal vases from Thrace, such as Zhuravliev and Firsov 2013; Marazov 2011. For the role of gift–giving in Athenian–Thracian 4 

Asst. Prof. of Classical Archaeology, Democritus University of Thrace On the geography of ancient Thrace, see Bouzek and Graninger 2015, with previous bibliography and references to the ancient authors. For a selection of recent work on the history of Thrace and its numerous tribes, see Graninger 2015; Delev 2014 and 2005; Theodossiev 2011 and 2000; Bouzek 2004; Boshnakov 2003; BotevaBoyanova 2000; Popov 1999; Tomaschek 1980. For an overview of the Odrysian kingdom, see Porozhanov 2011; Archibald 1998; and the exhibition catalogue of Martinez et alii 2015, providing an impressive glimpse of the Thracian elite. 3  The bibliography on Greek colonization is immense. A small sample of recent titles relevant to colonies and emporia include: Archibald 2016; 2013; Damyanov 2015; Tzochev 2015; Zahrnt 2015; McInerney 2014; Cifani and Stoddart 2012; Demetriou 2012; Tiverios 2008; Grammenos and Petropoulos 2007; 2003; Bravo and Chankowski 1999; Tsetskhladze 1994; Loukopoulou 1989; Isaac 1986. On Pistiros (Vetren), see Pistiros I–VI; against the identification of the site with Pistiros, and Demetriou 2010 and Johnston 1998. On the possibility of an emporion even further north by an offshoot of the Danube at Rousse, see Madzharov forthcoming. 1  2 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Athanasios Sideris has recently presented an overview of these issues in his monograph on the iconography of Theseus on Attic artifacts from Thrace.8 A good portion of his study involves silverware from the Vassil Bojkov Collection in Sofia.9 Gathering a corpus of 75 silver vessels, Sideris observed that their shapes are related to banqueting and wine-consumption, and he examined this material within the framework of Athenian-Thracian relations. However, the main problem with most luxury vessels is that they have an unknown provenance and are only presumed to originate from ancient Thrace (i.e. tombs of the Thracian elite). There is a chain of intriguing yet hard-to-answer questions associated with these vases, including: (a) the production centers, (b) the ethnicity of craftsmen, (c) the manufacture and cost of the vessels, and (d) their usage before being used in the majority of cases as burial-gifts.

Turning to the sympotic scene in the tondo, a young man on the left sits on the edge of a kline holding a kithara and a plektron as he faces his fellow symposiast.14 Both are attired in what may be called the Thracian style (Figure 2): The musician wears a pointed headgear with a fur undercoat over his long hair, an alopeke.15 His knee-length, girted garment is a rather thick, short dress – a chitoniskos or short peplos, according to Sideris.16 On top a rosette-decorated chlamys falls on his back, which is perhaps the zeira mentioned in the ancient sources and possibly illustrated on Attic vase-paintings.17 Tall, laced boots protect his feet. The kline is covered with voluminous fringed and patterned textiles, recalling the Thracian wools and embroidery mentioned in the sources,18 while a footstool or perhaps a table is stored underneath. Opposite the musician, a beardless symposiast lies on the kline in a leisurely fashion. With his left hand, he holds a rather large empty kantharos, suggestive of the wine consumed during the feast. Reclining on his left elbow, he rests his right hand on his forehead, head tilted backwards, deeply enjoying the music and the wine – a motif reminiscent of similar depictions of the early Attic red figure.19 Several locks of hair escape from his pointed cap. His garment, a long girted peplos, is rather surprising compared to the seated figure.20

The same issues listed above apply to the silver cup from the Bojkov Collection examined in this paper.10 The vessel is a silver kylix of Rheneia-type (small, shallow, stemless cup with pi-shaped handles) with an unusual sympotic scene on its interior (Figure 1). It has a height of nearly 3 cm, a diameter of 12 cm, and weighs approximately 182 grams. A gilt ivy wreath adorns the inner wall of the rim, while a laurel branch defines the circular pictorial space. Both attributes are subtle references to dionysiac and apollonian elements.

The scene described above is bewildering on many levels. At first, one may argue that the musician is Orpheus performing in front of one of his fellow Thracians, but none of the known representations of Orpheus playing music for a Thracian audience takes place in a sympotic setting. On the contrary, Athenian vase-paintings portray Orpheus seated on a rock surrounded by Thracian warriors in the wilderness of the Thracian countryside.21 It is unlikely that this figure should be identified with the renowned musician. Moreover, Orpheus is commonly depicted on Attic vases in a simple himation following the Greek fashion, and after the middle of the fifth century BCE he is occasionally represented in the Thracian style.

The execution of the tondo scene is Meidianizing, and stylistic comparisons to contemporary Athenian vase-painters suggests a date of ca. 420-410 BCE.11 The style, shape, and iconography of the silver kylix implies the involvement of an Athenian workshop. Indeed, Athens was an important center for metalworking in the fifth century BCE, but one cannot rule out the possibility that silver vases like the Bojkov cup were manufactured in one of the northern Greek colonies.12 The colonies were aware of the artistic trends originating from Athenian workshops, and moreover they had direct access to the raw materials and were themselves close to the targeted clientele. It is impossible to define whether the metalsmith responsible for such a vase was Athenian, Ionian, or non-Greek. The only observation one can make is that the craftsman was familiar with the conventions and repertory of the Athenian red figure, either through the direct experience of having worked in a ceramic workshop or indirectly through the circulation of drawings that could be applied on various fabrics.13 This is an important point that will be addressed below.

More unusual is the attire of the two figures, who are both dressed in a peculiar fashion. The thick garment of the kithara-player is girted like a peplos,22 while the long peplos of the reclining symposiast is a dress exclusively for females. However, neither figure could be construed as female because of their anatomy and their headgear, which is never worn by women, not even Amazons.23 Furthermore, the only women discussion below. 14  Sideris 2015: 67–69; Marazov 2011: 70. 15  On the peculiar spotted fur of the head gear, see Sideris 2015: 68. 16  ibid. 17  Sears 2015: 315–316. 18  Hall 1989: 137–138. 19  Most parallels date from ca. 525-470 BCE, e.g., the stamnos by Smikros in Brussels (Musées Royaux A717, BADN 200102) and the fragmentary calyx krater by Euphronios in Munich (Antikensammlungen 9400+, BADN 275007), but there are also examples from after the middle of the fifth century BCE, such as the column krater in Vienna (Kunsthistorisches Museum, Antikensammlung 824, BADN 11176). 20  Sideris 2015: 67–69; Marazov 2011: 70. 21  E.g., LIMC VII s.v. Orpheus: 84–85, nos. 7–16, 22–26 and 99–100 for commentary [M.–X. Garezou]. On the iconography of Orpheus on Attic vases, see Avramidou and Tsiafaki 2015: 75–78; Tsiafaki 1998: 77–93. 22  On the dress of the citharoid, see Ercoles 2014. 23  Of the corpus of Amazons depicted in Greek Art, there are several examples of female warriors with a pointed or rounded oriental cap

relations, see Mitchell 1997, esp. 134–147; Sears 2013: 208-217. 8  Sideris 2015, esp. 19–46. 9  Marazov 2011. 10  Sideris 2015: 67–69, no. 19, fig. 84–86; Zhuravliev and Firsov 2013: 224–225, no. 76 date it to 430 BCE; Marazov 2011: 70–71, no. 50 dates it to 430–425 BCE. 11  E.g., there are several similarities to the female figure seated by the altar on the famous hydria by the Meidias Painter in the British Museum (BADN 220497). These include: heavy chin; long, slightly pointed nose; an iris that does not touch the bottom eyelid; long straight eyebrows with a second line to indicate the eyelid; rather small, protruding lips; elongated, graceful fingers. 12  Sideris 2015: 13-14, 57–78, esp. p. 57 for his criteria for ascribing silver vessels to the Athenian toreutic production; Acton 2014: 67, 116–146; Vickers and Gill 1994; 1990; Mattusch 1977. 13  Cf. the pencil drawing on parchment by Parrhasios that was in circulation and studied by later artists, or even his smaller (thus portable) images of immodest nature: Pliny HN 35.36. On the aptitude of artists/craftsmen to work with different materials, see the


Amalia Avramidou – An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace

Figure 1. A musician and a reclining symposiast dressed in Thracian style. Silver kylix from the Vassil Bojkov Collection, Sofia. Reproduced with permission from Marazov 2011: 71, no. 50.

Figure 2. A musician and a reclining symposiast dressed in Thracian style. Detail. Silver kylix from the Vassil Bojkov Collection, Sofia. Reproduced with permission from Marazov 2011: 71, no. 50.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

reclining during a symposion on Attic vases are hetairai, and they have a clearly defined anatomy and dress-code.24

They read the scene as a gendered perception of the Orphic mysteries. The gaze of the reclining figure and the fixed look of the kithara-player, along with their female attire, are construed as indications of homoeroticism.

The peplos is a garment exclusively worn by women in Attic vase-painting, except for theme-specific representations of cross-dressing or effeminacy, such as the so-called Anacreontic komasts or ‘Booners,’ to use a term coined by the honoree and Donna Kurtz in their seminal 1986 article.25 But even they do not offer good parallels for the Bozkov figures, since Booners parade in feminine attire with elegant peploi and himatia and have elaborate hairdos in sakkos and stylish parasols in hand.26 Compared to these representation, the reclining symposiast on the Bojkov cup is half as graceful and has very little in common with the Lydian/Eastern fashion of the Anakreontic komasts. It is noteworthy that studies on the clothed body in antiquity have shown that by the Late Classical period, the peplos had become a ceremonial garment used for ritual purposes.27 This requires us to examine the Bojkov cup through a different lens. The symposiast’s peplos – and possibly the short garment of the kitharoid – should be conceived as symbols of otherness and distinction, while one cannot rule out an explanation related to cult or theatrical activities (e.g. the garments worn by actors on the contemporary votive relief from Piraeus).28 Even the unique fur of their alopeke-caps stresses the special character of this convivial meeting.29

I wish to pursue an alternative reading of the scene, this time in combination with the (admittedly) scant information on Kotys (Κότυς) or Kotyto (Κοττυτώ). This deity is usually considered to be of Phrygian origin and one who was worshipped in Thrace with an orgiastic festival. Her name echoes the early fourth-century BCE Odrysian king Kotys I (or perhaps a mythical predecessor).31 Kotyto’s cult is attested at Corinth, Sicily, and the Chersonnesos, but the celebration of the Kotytia in Athens, as her festival was known, is still a matter of controversy among scholars.32 Despite its fragmentary preservation, the Baptai, a comedy by Eupolis and produced around 415 BCE, alludes to a connection between the cult of Kotyto and the scene on the Bojkov cup.33 Kotyto and her festival are also mentioned by Strabo, Horace and Juvenal,34 while the earliest reference comes from Aeschylos’ lost tragedy Edonians.35 Eupolis’ plot emphasizes the priests of Kotyto (as the chorus?), who introduce her mysteries through a certain rite of baptism, thus the title of the comedy.36 As best as one can extract from the surviving 23 fragments, a handful of scholia, and various references in the ancient literature, men dressed in feminine clothes perform orgies and sing in honor of the foreign deity. In his comedy, Eupolis disgraces Alcibiades for taking part in the nocturnal rituals of Kotyto, and scholars believe that the poet may have presented him on stage dipping/being dipped in a tank or dying his hair/garments, depending on the translation of the term baptai.37 Eupolis’ critique against the Athenian general was so harsh and slanderous that it infuriated Alcibiades to the extreme. According to the sources, Alcibiades took his revenge by throwing the poet off the ship (and thus dipping him in the water) while they were both in route to Sicily during the perilous expedition of the Peloponnesian War (415–413 BCE).38

Athanasios Sideris follows Ivan Marazov in associating this scene with Orpheus, and interprets the unusual iconography to the peculiarities of Orphic teaching.30 More specifically, both scholars highlight the importance of music in distributing knowledge and the male followers of Orpheus. that recalls the Scythian style (e.g., Bothmer 1957: 49, no. 110, pl. XXXVIII.5; 91, nos 10, 12, 14, pl. LIX.1–3; 94, no. 31, pl. LX.6; 94, no. 47, LXI.1; 124, nos 7, 8, 9, pl. LXVIII), but none is comparable to the figures on the Bojkov cup, and no Amazon is shown reclining and banqueting. The closest parallel to the headgear can be found on the Amazon depicted in the tondo of the cup signed by Kachrylion now in the Louvre (idem 151, no. 40, pl. LXXII). The pointed cap is occasionally worn by Thracian women attacking Orpheus, e.g. on the stamnos by the Group of Polygnotos, now missing (LIMC VII s.v. Orpheus: 86–87, no. 47). The headgear of the figures on the Bojkov cup is a male attribute, further demonstrated by two Attic red-figure column kraters of ca. 440 BCE (LIMC VII s.v. Orpheus: 84, no. 9–10). 24  On the iconography of the hetairai on Attic vases, see Lewis 2002; Peschel 1987. 25  Kurtz and Boardman 1986. On Anakreontic komasts, see also Miller 1999. 26  Cf. the kalathos by the Brygos Painter (BADN 204129) and the thorough examination on transvestism sparked by the so–called Zewadski stamnos by Miller 1999. Cross–dressing was popular in Attic comedy, while transvestism played a symbolic role in dionysiac rites (cf. Bacchae 821–838; commentary by Seaford 1996: 33, 222), in pre-marriage and other rituals (Miller 1999: 243), in rites in honor of Dionysos Pseudanor in Macedonia (Hatzopoulos 1994: 76–78), and even in private parties (e.g., Douris of Samos [76 F12 apud Athenaios Deipnosophistai 4.41=4.155c] describes how Polysperchon, a commander of Alexander the Great, when drunk, would dress in the female krokotos and Sikyonian slippers, and dance, an unexpected behavior for someone as old and as respected by the Macedonians). 27  E.g. Brons 2014: 91–92; Lee 2005: 51. 28  Kaltsas 2002: 138, no. 264 (Athens, National Archaeological Museum 1500). 29  Sideris 2015: 68. 30  Sideris 2015: 68–69, n. 295 citing Conon in FGrHist 26 F 1.45; Pausanias 9.30.5; Phanocles fr. 1 Powell; Ovidius Metamorphoses 10.83– 85; Hyginus Poetic Astronomy 2.7 in support of the homoerotic and pederastic preferences of Orpheus. Marazov 2011: 70.

Our earliest source is a fragment of Aeschylus Edonians fr. 57 apud Strabo Geography 10.3.16. On Kotyto, see Srebny 1936. For a view supporting the existence of Kotyto’s cult in Thrace and Athens, see Lozanova–Stancheva 1995; contra Storey 2003: 98–101, doubting Kotyto’s cult in Athens and reporting three traditions about the deity: the Thracian goddess associated with Dionysos, the Dorian deity related to agriculture and purification and the Athenian Kotyto, worshipped in an orgiastic manner. 32  For the debate on Kotyto’s cult in Athens and a discussion of earlier bibliography, see Robertson 2010: 53–62 (also on Kotytia in Selinus); Storey 2003: 98–101; Lozanova–Stancheva 1995; Jameson, Jordan and Kotansky 1993: 23–27. For the cult of Kotyto in the Chersonnesus, see Posamentir 2010: 400. For Kotyto in Corinth, see Kopestonsky 2016: esp. 740; Dubbini 2011: 186-200 and Sanders 2010, with previous references. 33  On the date of Eupolis Baptai, see Storey 2003: 108–110; Henderson 1993: 594. 34  Strabo Geography 10.3.16; Horace Epodoi 17.56–7; Juvenal Satires 2.91–8; Also, cf. Libanius fr. 50.2.21. For a full treatment of the sources, see Kyriakidi 2011: 74–77; Robertson 2010: 58; Storey 2003: 94–110. 35  Fr. 57 apud Strabo Geography 10.3.16. 36  For a different meaning of the word baptai as ‘dyers’ rather than ‘immersers’ and its implications to the plot, see Storey 2003: 101–105. 37  Kyriakidi 2011: 74–77; Storey 2003: 101–105. 38  E.g. Cicero Ad Atticus 6.1.18; Tzetzes Prolegomena on Comedy 1 (Koster IX a 1) 88–95 and the thorough discussion on Alcibiades and Eupolis by Storey 2005: 101–105. 31 


Amalia Avramidou – An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace

After the catastrophic end of the Sicilian Expedition and his expulsion from Sparta, Alcibiades sought refuge at the Persian court. Despite his behavior, the Athenians restored Alcibiades as general and appointed him at the Hellespont where he ran several missions (both officially and for his own gain) until 408/7 BCE. Literary sources preserve various aspects of the luxurious and often dissolute life of Alcibiades. One learns of his affinity for precious vessels, expensive furniture, embroidery, and other luxury items from the records regarding the confiscation of his property. His strong and polarizing personality caused numerous scandals in Athens; therefore, any mention of his life in contemporary theatrical productions should come as no surprise.39

Moreover, the Meidianizing style of the cup and of similar silver vases45 fares well with the repertory of the Meidias Painter and his Circle, namely their affinity for theatricality, patterned/oriental costumes and dionysiac scenes.46 According to the BAPD, Lucilla Burn’s monograph, and more recent publications,47 the diffusion of pots by the Meidias Painter and his Circle in the Eastern Mediterranean – excluding Athens – concentrates primarily in the Crimea (Phanagoria, Kerch). There is a smaller nucleus in Chalkidike and a more substantial number from Ainos.48 This wealthy Greek colony on the mouth of Hebros River was a close ally of Athens with connections to the Odrysians.49 The city could have functioned as a hub for Athenian imports, providing networks for their diffusion both further inland and down the Bosporus route to the colonies of the Northern Black Sea.

Examining the Bojkov cup through this prism, one could argue that the scene reflects the literary description of the Kotytia in the excerpt of Baptai and elsewhere: singing, feminine attire, and Thracian elements which indicate the foreign character of the festivities. Therefore, instead of interpreting the figure as Orpheus and an extraordinary Thracian follower in a peplos reclining inside an andron, I prefer to explain the scene within this contemporary Athenian reality and the general Athenian fascination with Thracian myths and cults – and Thracian clothing, too, particularly during the second half of the fifth century BCE.40 Also, one should not forget that the Thracian goddess Bendis was officially introduced in Athens in 429 BCE.41

The distinct similarities in style between the vase-painters of the Circle of the Meidias Painter and the engraver of the Bojkov cup (and possibly a few more silver vases)50 raises questions regarding the mutual influence between the two crafts, the circulation of motifs, the manufacturer’s mobility, 2015: 34–41, fig. 28; Marazov 2011: 79–82, no. 53), rhyton with Orpheus’ death (Marazov 2011: 65–67, no. 48); possibly associated with Helen: Orpheus kantharos (Sideris 2015: 34–41, fig. 29, 33), kylix with Hermes and Helen (Sideris 2015: 65-66, fig. 76–79; Marazov 2011: 68–69, no. 49) and kantharos with Paris and Helen (Sideris 2015: 66–67, fig. 81–83; Marazov 2011: 74–78, no, 52); rhyton associated with Melanippe the Wise (Sideris 2015: 72, fig. 92–93; Marazov 2011: 62–64, no. 47) or Tyro Keiromene [Tyro Shorn] (Tiverios 2017); associated with Auge; plate with Auge and Herakles (Sideris 2015: 48, fig. 48). The study of the relation of these vases to Attic plays within the general researchframe of theater in Thrace has been undertaken by the author. 45  On silverware associated with the Meidias Painter and his Circle, see Sideris 2015: 30 (Ariadne kantharos), 60 (Duvanli kylix with Nyx), 67 (Aphrodite kantharos). There are eight Rheneia-type kylikes, dated between around 440–410 BCE that raise several questions regarding the preference for this shape and the transmission of the iconographic motifs. For example, Bellerophon and Pegasos appear almost identical on two Rheneia-type kylikes and an earlier stemmed(?) cup from the Semibratnie tumulus (Sideris 2015: 62–63), let alone the reoccurrence of Theseus, explored in detailed by Sideris in his monograph. The eight cups in question are: Sideris 2015: 19–22 (Theseus and the bull, ca 440 BCE), 32–34 (Theseus and Skiron from Kapinovo tumulus, ca 440-430 BCE), 62–63 (Bellerophon cup from Chernozem and an unpublished vase, ca 430 BCE), 65 (Horseman cup, whereabouts unknown, ca 430-420 BCE), 65–66 (Hermes and Helen cup, ca 420 BCE), 67–69 (Orpheus cup, ca 420–410 BCE), 70–71 (wheel medallion, Solokha tumulus, ca 410–400 BCE). To this group, one should add nine handles that may once belonged to Rheneia cups from the Svetitsa tumulus and an earlier undecorated silver cup from the Yakimova tumulus, 460-450 BCE (Sideris 2015: 19 and 73). For an association of most silver vases from ancient Thrace with the style of the Eretria Painter, see Tiverios forthcoming. 46  Burn 1987: 54–59 on Thracian musicians in the corpus of the Meidias Painter and his Circle, e.g. Mousaios, Thamyris; 76–80 on Dionysian scenes. On oriental/pattern garments on vases by the Circle of the Meidias Painter, see BADN 220513, 381, 20172, 44230, 220497, 220515, 220529, 9029561. For cups by the Meidias Painter and his Circle, see BAPD, listing thirty-one examples, of which the majority was discovered in Etruria, Enserune, and Ampurias, and only a handful in the Northern Black Sea: 220671, 220672, 9017638, 9004127, 9004130, 9004238. 47  Burn 1987: 98–119. A search on BAPD using the search–key ‘Meidias Painter,’ produced 367 vases; of these and the vases that can be added to the corpus after the publications of Şahin 2017 and 2016, a mere 10% originates from a Northern Aegean or Black Sea site, mostly from the Crimea and Ainos. 48  Şahin 2017 and 2016. 49  Isaac 1985: 146–157. 50  See above n. 43.

Taking all this into account, one wonders whether the Bojkov cup reflects the sensational case of Kotyto’s mysteries and is even a direct reference to Eupolis’ Baptai. The cup was created around the time of Alcibiades’ return from the fiasco of the Sicilian Expedition and his later activity in the Northern Aegean. Alcibiades established strongholds around the Hellespont, offered his protection to Greek colonies, and cultivated personal relationships with Thracian rulers.42 For the latter, his association with the cult of Kotyto could have functioned as common grounds with the locals, while his notorious affinity for luxury and extravagance would have found good parallels with the lavishness of the Odrysian nobility. I now come full-circle to an earlier point regarding the manufacturing of the vase. If it was indeed produced in Athens,43 then the interpretation of the scene as a reflection of the sensation produced by a contemporary comedy involving the infamous Alcibiades is plausible. It is interesting to note that several of these late fifth- and some fourth-century BCE silver vases with narrative scenes appear to be decorated with the same themes that permeate the tragedies of Aeschylus (e.g. Bassarae) and Euripides (Helen, Melanippe the Wise, Auge).44 On Alcibiades and Attic comedy, see Plutarch Alcibiades 10.4; Libanius fr. 50.2.21 and the key–publication on the topic by Vickers 2015; cf. also Vickers 2008 on Alcibiades and Sophocles. On Alcibiades, see Rhodes 2011. 40  Sears 2015: 314–317. 41  The cult of Bendis was officially introduced in Athens in 429 BCE, IG 3 I 383.143, for a discussion of her cult, see Janouchova 2013; Blommart 2004. 42  Thucydides 6.88; Plutach Alcibiades, esp. 23–31; Diodorus Siculus 13.74; Munn 2000: 179; Mitchell 1997: 70–71; Isaac 1986: 181–182. 43  Sideris 2015: 61, no. 19, refers to it as an example of ‘some of the most inspired and finely accomplished works of the high Classical Greek art.’ 44  E.g., possibly associated with Bassarai: Orpheus kantharos (Sideris 39 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


and the craftsmen’s aptitude for working with diverse materials, not to mention the possibility of joint productions. I merely cite here the well-known cases of Euphranor and Polygnotos as both sculptors and painters, the clay images and paintings of Zeuxis,51 the specialization within families of craftsmen and thus their familiarity with different arts (e.g. the vase-painter Euthymides’ father was Pollias, the sculptor), and the production of a silver cup decorated with the sack of Troy by Parrhasios and Mys.52 One should also note the application of similar techniques in diverse materials, such as the interchangeable technique of carving and painting in Archaic Athenian architecture,53 the experimentation of Middle Corinthian pottery, the Athenian Six technique, and the numerous ceramic vases thought to imitate shapes and/ or decoration of metal prototypes. As for the mobility of craftsmen, there are numerous examples: (a) Aristonothos in Cerveteri/Caere and the broader issue of Greek artisans in Etruria,54 (b) Xenophantos the Athenian who worked at Pantikapaion/Kerch around 400 BCE,55 and (c) and the various artists gathered at the court of Archelaos I of Macedon at the end of the fifth century BCE,56 to list only a few.

BAPD = Beazley Archive Pottery Database BADN = Beazley Archive Database Number Pistiros I-VI = Bouzek, J., M. Domaradzki and Z. H. Archibald (ed.) 1996. Pistiros I: Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University. Bouzek, J, L Domaradzka and Z. H. Archibald (ed.) 2002. Pistiros II: Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University. Bouzek, J, L Domaradzka and Z. H. Archibald (ed.) 2007. Pistiros III: Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University. Bouzek, J, L Domaradzka and Z. H. Archibald (ed.) 2010. Pistiros IV: Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University Bouzek, J, L Domaradzka, A. Gotzev and Z. H. Archibald (ed.) 2013. Pistiros V: Excavations and Studies. Prague: Charles University. Bouzek, J, J. Militky, V. Taneva and E. Domaradzka (ed.) 2017. Pistiros VI: The Pistiros Hoard. Prague: Charles University.

Based on these observations, I wonder whether an artisan from the workshop of the Meidias Painter eventually branched off to manufacture artifacts from different materials and designed the scene of the Bojkov cup. The Attic style of the kylix is unquestionable and it seems logical to have been produced in Athens. If not, then a Greek colony like Ainos would seem to be a good alternative.

Bibliography Acton, P. 2014. Poiesis: Manufacturing in Classical Athens. Oxford: Oxford University Press Archibald, Z. H. 1998. The Odrysian Kingdom of Thrace: Orpheus Unmasked. Oxford Monographs on Classical Archaeology. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Archibald, Z. H. 2013. Ancient Economies of the Northern Aegean, Fifth to First Centuries BC. Oxford: Oxford University press. Archibald, Z. H. 2016. Moving Upcountry: Ancient Travel from Coastal Ports to Inland Harbours. In K. Höghammar, B. Alroth and A. Lindhagen (ed.) The Geography of Connections. Proceedings of an International Conference at the Department of Archaeology and Ancient History, Uppsala University, 23-25 September 2010, Boreas 34: 37-64. Uppsala: Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Avramidou, Α. and D. Tsiafaki 2015. Attic Pottery: Its Contribution to the Relationship between Athens and Thrace [In Greek with extended English summaries], sponsored by the European Social Fund (ESF) and National Resources through the ‘Education and Lifelong Learning’ Program (available at Avramidou, A. and D. Tsiafaki (forthcoming a). Preliminary Results of the Research Project Attic Vases in Thrace: Shapes, Iconography and Findspots. In the Proceedings of Ancient Thrace: Myth and Reality. 13th International Congress of Thracology, 3-7 September 2017, Kazanlak. Avramidou, A. and D. Tsiafaki (forthcoming b). Attic Kraters and Pelikai from Ancient Thrace. In the Proceedings of the 19th AIAC, Cologne/Bonn, 22-26 May 2018. Blommart, A. 2004. Une déesse nommée Bendis. Réalité thrace ou creation athénienne? In Proceedings of the 11th International Conference on Classical Studies, Kavala, August 24-30, 1999, vol. 3: 31-47. Athens: Parnasos. Boshnakov, K. 2003. Die Thraker südlich vom Balkan in den Geographika Strabos (Palingenesia 81). Stuttgart: Franz Steiner. Boteva-Boyanova, D. 2000.  Problemi na trakiiskata istoriya i kultura. Sofia: Gutenberg. Bothmer, von D. 1957. Amazons in Greek Art. Oxford: Clarendon Press.

The Bojkov cup illustrates a symposion á la Thrace, catering for an Athenian audience who was trained to discern such subtleties. At the same time, it invokes the ever-growing diffusion of Thracian elements in the Athenian artistic production and cult practices. Conversely, to Thracian eyes, this cup would primarily be valued for its material and artistry and less so for its theme of decoration. The Thracian nobility would certainly appreciate an artifact ‘made in Athens’ – a gift, a bribe, a product of taxation, looting or a purchase – but they would probably approach the tondo scene with the curiosity provoked by an image of Athenian lifestyle rather than an illustration of something familiar to them.

Pliny HN 35.36. Athenaios Deipnosophistai 11.19=11.782b. 53  Ridgway 1987: 81–88, esp. 85–86. 54  Izzet 2004; Torelli 1976. See also, the claim by Mattusch (1988: 60– 63) that bronze casting was probably undertaken by itinerant metalsmiths in the sixth century BCE. 55  Lezzi-Hafter 2016 and 2008. 56  Carney 2015: 193. 51  52 


Amalia Avramidou – An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace

Bouzek, J. 2004. Thracians and their Neighbours: Their Destiny, Art and Heritage (Studia hercynia 9.1). Prague: Institute of archaeology, Charles University, Czech Society of Archaeology. Bouzek, J. and D. Graninger 2015. Geography. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 12-21. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Bozkova, A. 2015. The Pottery of Ancient Thrace. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 229-242. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Bozkova, A. 2017. Fine Pottery Between the Haemus, the Rhodope and the Pontus Euxinus (7th – 1st c. B.C.) Characteristics, Distribution and Utilization. Veliko Tarnovo: Faber. Bravo, B. and A. S. Chankowski 1999. Cités et emporia dans le commerce avec les barbares à la lumière du document dit à tort ‘inscription de pistiros’. In BCH 123: 275–317. Brons, C. 2014. Representations and Realities: Fibulas and pins in Greek and Near Eastern Iconography. In M. Harlow and M-L Nosch (ed.) Greek and Roman Textiles and Dress: An Interdisciplinary Anthology. Ancient Textiles 19: 60-94. Oxford: Oxbow. Burn, L. 1987. The Meidias Painter. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Carney, E. D. 2015. King and Court in Ancient Macedonia. Rivalry, Treason and Conspiracy. Swansea: The Classical Press of Wales. Cifani, G. and S. Stoddart (ed.) 2012. Landscape, Ethnicity and Identity in the Archaic Mediterranean Area. Oxford: Oxbow.
 Damyanov, M 2015. The Greek Colonists. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 295307. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Delev, P. 2005. Stratifying Herodotus: Local Tribes between the Lower Axios and the Nestos. In Thracia 16: 105–121.
 Delev, P. 2014. Istoria na plemenata v yugozapadna Trakia prez I khil. pr. Khr. [History of the Tribes in Southwest Thrace in the 1st Millennium BC] Sofia: St Kliment Ohridski University Press. Demetriou, D. 2010. Pistiros and a North Aegean Trade Network. In L’ antiquité classique 79: 77-93. Demetriou, D. 2012. Negotiating Identity in the Ancient Mediterranean. The Archaic and Classical Greek Multiethnic Emporia. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
 Dubbini, R. 2011. Dei nello spazio degli uomin: I culti dell’agora e la costruzione di Corinto archaica. Rome: L’ Erma di Bretschneider. Ercoles, M. 2016. Dressing the Citharoid: A Chapter in Greek Musical and Cultic Imagery. In M. Harlow and M-L Nosch (ed.) Greek and Roman Textiles and Dress: An Interdisciplinary Anthology. Ancient Textiles 19: 95-110. Oxford: Oxbow. Giudice, E., F. Giudice and G. Santagati (forthcoming). Attic Imports to the Northern Aegean: The Construction of the Reference Framework. In the Proceedings of the International Archaeological Meeting on Classical Pottery of the Northern Aegean and its Periphery (480-323/300 B.C.), AUTh–DUTh, 17-20 May 2017, Thessaloniki. Grammenos, D. and E. Petropoulos (ed.) 2003. Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea. Thessaloniki: Archaeological Institute of Northern Greece. Grammenos, D. and E. Petropoulos (ed.) 2007. Ancient Greek Colonies in the Black Sea 2. Oxford: Archaeopress. Graninger, D. 2015. Ethnicity and Ethne. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 2132. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell.

Hall, E. 1989. Inventing the Barbarian. Greek Self-Definition through Tragedy. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Henderson, J. 1993. Problems in Greek Literary History: The Case of Aristophanes’ Clouds. In R. M Rosen and J. Farrell (ed.) Nomodeiktes. Greek Studies in Honor of Martin Ostwald: 591-602. Ann Arbor: The University of Michigan Press. Hatzopoulos, M. 1994. Cultes et rites de passages en macedoine. Meletemata 19. Athens: KERA. Isaac, B. 1986. The Greek Settlements in Thrace until the Macedonian Conquest (Studies of the Dutch archaeological and historical Society 10). Leiden: Brill. Izzet, V. 2004. Purloined Letters: The Aristonothos Inscription and Krater. In K. Lomas (ed.) Greek Identity in the Western Mediterranean. Papers in Honour of Brian Shefton: 191-210. Leiden: Brill. Jameson, M. H., D. R. Jordan and R. D. Kotansky 1993. A ‘Lex Sacra’ from Selinus. Durham, NC: Duke University. Janouchová, P. 2013. The Cult of Bendis in Athens and Thrace. In Graeco-Latina Brunensia 18: 95-106. Johnston, J. E. 1998. Pistyros – Emporion of the North Aegean. MA Thesis. Austin: University of Texas. Kaltsas, N. 2002. Sculpture in the National Archaeological Museum. Athens: Kapon. Kopestonsky, Th. 2016. The Greek Cult of the Nymphs at Corinth. In Hepseria 85: 711-777. Kurtz, D. and J. Boardman 1986. Booners. In Greek Vases in the J. Paul Getty Museum III: 35-70. Kyriakidi, Ν. 2011. Αριστοφάνης και Εύπολις. In Th. G. Pappas and A. G. Markantonatos (ed.) Αττική κωμωδία – Πρόσωπα και Προσεγγίσεις: 69-89. Athens: Gutenberg. Lazarov, M. 20032. Ancient Greek Painted Pottery from Bulgaria [In Bulgarian]. Sofia: Slavena. Lee, M. 2005. Constru(ct)ing Gender in the Feminine Greek Peplos. In L. Cleland, M. Harlow and L. Llewellyn-Jones (ed.) The Clothed Body in the Ancient World: 55-64. Oxford: Oxbow. Lewis, S. 2002. The Athenian Women: An Iconographic Handbook. London: Routledge. Lezzi-Hafter, A. 1997. Offerings Made to Measure: Two Special Commissions by the Eretria Painter for Apollonia Pontica. In Oakley, J. H., W. Coulson and O. Palagia (ed.) Athenian Potters and Painters. The Conference Proceedings: 353–369. Oxford: Oxbow. Lezzi-Hafter, A. 2008. Clay, Gold, and Craft: Special Techniques in Three Vases by the Eretria Painter and their Apotheosis in Xenophantos. In K. Lapatin (ed.) Papers on Special Techniques in Athenian Vases: Proceedings of a Symposium Held in Connection with the Exhibition ‘The Colors of Clay: Special Techniques in Athenian Vases’, at the Getty Villa, June 15-17, 2006: 173-186. Los Angeles: J. Paul Getty Museum. Lezzi-Hafter, A. 2016. Athenaios epoiesen. In R. Wachter (ed.) Töpfer - Maler - Schreiber: Inschriften auf attischen Vasen. Akten des Kolloquiums vom 20. bis 23. September 2012 an den Universitäten Lausanne und Basel, Akanthus proceedings 4: 79-86​. Kilchberg; Zürich​: Akanthus Verlag für Archäologie. Loukopoulou, L. D. 1989. Contribution à l’histoire de la Thrace propontique durant la période archaïque, Athens: KERA. Lozanova-Stancheva, V. B. 1995. The Mysteries of the Thracian Kotytia. Trans. N. Chalkova. Sofia: St Kliment Ohridski University Press. Madzharov, K. forthcoming. Trading post at Rousse? – The Evidence of the Amphora Stamps. In the Proceedings of Ancient Thrace: Myth and Reality, 13th International Congress of Thracology, Kazanlak September 3-7, 2017.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Marazov, Ι. 2011. Thrace and the Ancient World. Vassil Bojkov Collection. Sofia: Thrace Foundation. Martinez, J.-L., A. Baralis, N. Mathieux, T. Stoyanov and M. Tonkova (ed.) 2015. L’épopée des rois thraces : des guerres médiques aux invasions celtes, 479-278 av. J.-C. : découvertes archéologiques en Bulgarie. Paris: Somogy éditions d’art. Mattusch, C. C. 1977. Bronze-and Ironworking in the Area of the Athenian Agora. In Hesperia 46: 340-379. Mattusch, C. C. 1988. Greek Bronze Statuary: From the Beginnings through the Fifth Century B.C. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. McInerney, J. (ed.) 2014. A Companion to Ethnicity in the Ancient Mediterranean. Oxford: Wiley- Blackwell. Miller, M. C. 1999. Reexamining Transvestism in Archaic and Classical Athens: The Zewadski Stamnos. In AJA 103: 223253. Mithcell, L. G. 1997. Greeks bearing Gifts. The Public Use of Private Relationships in the Greek World, 435-323 BC. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Munn, M. H. 2000. The School of History. Athens in the Age of Socrates. Berkeley: UC Press. Oakley, J. H. 2009. Attic Red-Figure Beakers: Special Vases for the Thracian Market. In Antike Kunst 52: 66–74. Peschel, I. 1987. Die Hetäre bei Symposion und Komos in der attischrotfigurigen: Vasenmalerei des 6.-4. Jhs v. Chr. Frankfurt: Peter Lang. Vasenmalerei des 6.-4. Jahrhunderts v. Christus. Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang. Popov, D. 1999. Trakologiya. Sofia: Lik. Porozhanov K. 2011. The Odrysian Kingdom, the Poleis along its Coasts and Athens from the End of the 6th Century until 341 BC. Studia thracica 14 [In Bulgarian]. Blagoevgrad: University Publishing House Neofit Rilski. Posamentir, R. 2010. The Polychrome Grave Stelai from the Early Hellenistic Necropolis. Chersonesan Studies. Austin: The University of Texas Press. Reho, M. 1990. La ceramic attica a figure nere e rosse nella Tracia bulgara. Rome: Bretschneider. Rhodes, P. J. 2011. Alcibiades. London: Pen and Sword. Ridgway, B. S. 1987. Sculptor and Painter in Archaic Athens. In Papers on the Amasis Painter and His World: 81-91. Malibu, CA: The J. Paul Getty Museum. Robertson, N. 2010. Religion and Reconciliation in Greek Cities. The Sacred Law of Selinus and Cyrene. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Şahin, R. 2016. Red-figure pottery of the 4th Century BC from Ainos (Enez) in Thrace: The Final Phase of the Classical Tradition in Eastern Thrace. In Japp, S. and P. Köggler (ed.) Tracking the Development of Pottery from the Late Classical to the Early Imperial Periods. Proceedings of the 1st Conference of IARPotHP, Berlin, November 2013, 7th – 10th : 329-340. Vienna: IARPotHP e.V. Şahin, R. 2017. Red-figure pottery from Ainos/Thrace (Enez): Its Spectrum from the Earliest Finds until the End of the 5th Century BC. In Turkish Academy of Sciences Journal of Archaeology 20: 93-116. Sanders, G. D. R. 2015. The Sacred Spring: Landscape and Traditions. In S. Friesen, D. N. Schowalter and J. C. Walters (ed.) Corinth in Context. Comparative Studies on Religions and Society: 365-389. Leiden: Brill. Sears, M. 2013. Athens, Thrace, and the Shaping of Athenian Leadership. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Sears, M. 2015. Athens. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 308-319. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Sideris, A. 2008. Achaemenid Toreutics in the Greek Periphery. In S. M. R. Darbandi and A. Zournatzi (ed.) Ancient Greece and Ancient Iran Cross-Cultural Encounters. Athens, 11-13 November 2006: 339-353. Athens: NHRF. Sideris, A. 2015. Theseus in Thrace. The silver-lining on the clouds of Athenian-Thracian Relations in the 5th century BC. Sofia: Thrace Foundation. Srebny, St. 1936. Kult der thrakischen Göttin Kotyto in Korinth und Sizilien. In Mélanges M. Franz Cumont. Annuaire de l’Institut d’histoire et de philology orientale et slave IV: 423447. Brussels: Secrétariat de l’Institut. Storey, I. C. 2003. Eupolis. Poet of Old Comedy. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Theodossiev, N. 2000. North-Western Thrace from the Fifth to First Centuries BC (BAR–IS 859. Oxford: BAR. Theodossiev, N. 2011. Ancient Thrace during the First Millennium BC. In G. R. Tsetskhladze (ed.) The Black Sea, Greece, Anatolia and Europe in the First Millennium BC. Dedicated to Jan Bouzek (Colloquia antiqua 1): 1–60. Leuven: Peeters. Tiverios, M. 2008. Greek Colonisation of the Northern Aegean. In G. R. Tsetskhladze (ed.) Greek Colonisation: An Account of Greek Colonies and Other Settlements Overseas, vol. II: 1–154. Leiden: Brill. Tiverios, M. 2017. Κειρομένη Τυρώ, όχι Μελανίππη. In Logeion 7: 67–85. Tiverios, M. forthcoming. Attic Vases in the Periphery of the Northern Aegean during the Classical Period. The Parameter of Iconography. In H. Manakidou and A. Avramidou (eds.), Proceedings of the International Archaeological Meeting on Classical Pottery of the Northern Aegean and its Periphery (480-323/300 B.C.), AUTh–DUTh, 17-20 May 2017, Thessaloniki. Tomaschek, W. 1980. Die alten Τhraker. Εine ethnologische Untersuchung. Wien: Verlag der Österreichischen akademie der Wissenschaften. Torelli, M. 1976. Greek artisans in Etruria: A Problem Concerning the Relationship of Two Cultures. In Archaeological News 5: 134-138. Tsetskhladze, G. R. 1994. Greek Penetration of the Black Sea. In G. R. Tsetskhladze and F. De Angelis (ed.), The Archaeology of Greek Colonisation. Essays Dedicated to Sir John Boardman: 111–135. Oxford: Oxford University School of Archaeology. Tsiafaki, D. 1998. Η Θράκη στην αττική εικονογραφία του 5ου αι πΧ. Komotini: Μorfotikos Omilos Komotinis. Tzochev, Ch. 2015. Trade. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger (ed.) A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 412-425. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Valeva, J. 2015. Gold, Silver, and Bronze Vessels. In J. Valeva, E. Nankov and D. Graninger, A Companion to Ancient Thrace: 197-211. Oxford: Wiley Blackwell. Vickers, M. 2008. Sophocles and Alcibiades. Athenian Politics in Ancient Greek Literature. Ithaca: Cornell University Press. Vickers, M. 2015. Aristophanes and Alcibiades: Echoes of Contemporary History in Athenian Comedy. Berlin: De Gruyter. Vickers, M. and D. Gill 1990. Reflected Glory: Pottery and Precious Metals in Classical Greece. In JDI 105:1-30.


Amalia Avramidou – An Unusual Sympotic Scene on a Silver Cup from Ancient Thrace

Vickers, M. and D. Gill 1994. Artful Crafts. Ancient Greek Silverware and Pottery. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Zhuravliev D. V. and K. B. Firsov (ed.) 2013. Frakiiskoe Zoloto iz Bolgarii. Ozhivshie Legendi [Thracian Gold from Bulgaria. The Legends Become Alive]. Moscow: Kuchkovo pole. Zimi, E. 1994. Macedonian and Thracian Silverware: Interaction and Mutual Influences in the 4th Century

BC. In Lazarov, M. and H. Angelova (ed.) La thrace et les sociétés maritimes anciennes. proceedings of the International Symposium (Thracia Pontica VI.1): 385–404. Sozopol: Centre of Underwater Archaeology. Zournatzi, A. 2000. Inscribed Silver Vessels of the Odrysian Kings: Gifts, Tribute and the Diffusion of the Forms of ‘Achaemenid’ Metalware in Thrace. In AJA 104: 683–706.


Forgeries in a Museum: A New Approach to Ancient Greek Pottery Claudina Romero Mayorga1 Introduction: Object-Based Learning Pedagogy1

As Shuh6 has pointed out, the value of object-based learning methods can be summarised in three premises: first, objects are not age specific. As an educator you can use an object with children of any age, only the methods of questioning and conclusions drawn will vary. This applies too with children of differing abilities – a benefit in today’s schools, where literacy and numeracy skills are particularly favoured.7 Children do not need those skills to make a valuable contribution to the session using objects. Objects can be used to draw a class together and encourage conversations. Secondly, objects can be used to look at the lives of ordinary people. The display of the collection of Ure Museum allows learners to analyse objects relating to people, events and traditions rooted in Antiquity. Finally, objects give them the chance to develop their capacity for careful, critical observation of their world: introducing pupils to real objects, real evidence of the world around them and of the past, encourages them to think beyond their everyday experience.

The Ure Museum of Greek Archaeology at the University of Reading is an integral part of the Department of Classics and the fourth largest collection of Greek ceramics in Britain, although it also displays artefacts from other Mediterranean civilizations (Etruscan, Roman, Egyptian, etc.). The museum was established in 1922 by Professor Percy N. Ure, the University’s first professor of Classics, and his wife, Dr. Annie D. Ure, who acted as a curator until her death in 1976. Their aim was to build up a collection representative of almost all the main fabrics, types and periods of Greek pottery in order to offer a complete insight into the lives of the ancient Greeks. Nowadays, the museum runs a successful educational programme which offers school activities to Key Stage 2 pupils (aged between 7 and 11) in the Ancient Greeks. The Ure Museum has a capacity of 30 children per session, usually accompanied by adults and teachers. These rather small groups allow us, as educators, to offer a personal approach to the subject and to make the collection more accessible to learners. National museums can often seem overwhelming and intimidating to those not familiar with these institutions: here children have the priority to look at the cases without competing with tourists.

After being told that they would handle ancient artefacts and placed in front of them, there is always an authentic and audible ‘wow’ from children. This is what we call the ‘wow factor’,8 which expresses the culmination of the students’ introductory studies to Greek visual culture. The fact that the objects are out of the cases and in direct contact with them is what surprises them: they feel they are being treated like trustworthy adults. Their observation and analysis skills are tested through the exploration of how objects can speak: theory is put into practice.9 An object can be looked at and discussed on many different levels. The questions we ask of that object can be used to steer pupils towards a range of conclusions or learning outcomes.10

At the Ure Museum, learners analyse Ancient Greek pottery and its different shapes, functions and artistic techniques. The session is fully interactive with a ‘sharing knowledge’ introduction, (question and answer style) followed by an object-handling activity in small groups. The activity teaches children how to interpret artefacts and encourages them to think about how they were made, who made them and why. In order to get a better understanding of ancient Greek material culture, our programme is closely linked to pedagogies of active and experiential learning, which sees hands-on engagement with the object of study as a key to personal meaning-making and long-term retention of ideas. Objectbased learning has proven to facilitate the understanding of a subject, the development of academic and transferable skills such as team work and communication, lateral thinking, practical observation and drawing skills. This pedagogy has proven to have a long-lasting effect and relationship with memory, probably due to its multi-sensory approach,2 and it can also trigger innovative dissertation topics3 when applied to Archaeology.4  Artefacts, although concrete, represent a vast continuum of abstract ideas and inter-related realities that are to be discovered by children.5

The handling collection at the Ure Museum consists of a late Archaic lekythos (accession nº 45.6.15), miniature pots (accession nº 45.6.43, REDMG:1964.1607.1 and 40.6.40), a black glazed oenochoe (accession nº 50.4.20) and two fakes: a rhyton (2017.05.1), a clay cast of a metallic one, probably forged in the 19th century in Italy, and an aryballic lekythos (REDMG:1953.25.34). The rhyton was published by Hoffmann in 1966: ‘A terracotta replica, cast, most probably, from the silver rhyton (also a fake), exists in an English private collection’.11 As for the fake lekythos, we are still researching its provenance, although it seems to be a product of the Victorian period.

Education Officer, The Ure Museum of Greek Archaeology, University of Reading 2  Romanek and Lynch 2008: 284. Biggs 2003: 80. 3  Chatterjee 2010: 179-81. Chatterjee 2008: 215-223. Chatterjee and Hannan 2015: 1-8. Durbin et alli 1991: 7. 4  Beazley 1989: 98-102. 5  Paris 2002: 10. 1 

Shuh 1982: 8-15. Kennedy 2016: 2. Hardie 2015: 4. 9  Hardie 2008: 140. 10  Clarke 2002: 11. 11  Hoffmann 1966: 133-134. 6  7  8 


Claudina Romero Mayorga – Forgeries in a Museum: A New Approach to Ancient Greek Pottery

Figure 1. Handling collection at the Ure Museum of Greek Archaeology, University of Reading. Photography taken by the author. Fakes in the museum: experiential learning

in shiny orange paint shows a standing male figure in front of a kneeling female, which seems to be fading off. Even though they concentrate on the scene and try to identify a specific myth, they usually remember the red figure technique explained before and realise that the vase is in fact, a fake.

When handling the rhyton, the reactions are more than audible, the beauty of the piece and the detailed depiction of the animal provoke the first questions about the material, the colour, the decoration and the function. They do know that the pot is made out of terracotta clay, but the shimmering patina resembles metal. They also point out that the rhyton is extremely light and quite unstable when placed on the table. Children not only observe the vase, but they also hold it, weigh it and feel the texture of the surface. When they answer to ‘what colour is it?’ a child is making a straightforward visual observation. In answer to ‘how much does it weigh?’ they could be making a scientific measurement. In answer to ‘what does it feel like?’ they’re making a sensory, tactile judgment. A child answering the question ‘do you think it’s beautiful?’ would be making a personal, subjective judgement.12 While investigating the object, they apprehend the role of the rhyton in the context of a special celebration, they make their first approach to the semiotic and interactions of the symposium in Antiquity.

However, when learners realise they are fakes, something changes in the room: handling ancient objects not only felt exciting, but it also destroyed the barrier, physical and cultural, that antiquities must be inside a case, to be displayed at a museum as if they were inaccessible, even sacred objects. Now they feel betrayed: that barrier was never destroyed. Nonetheless, the discussion centres on one question: why. Fakes are particularly ‘good to think with’: they have the potential of provoking existential questions about something being true or false, right or wrong, legal or unlawful.13 Children believe that old antiquarians would take advantage of customers by selling fakes and copies instead of the ‘real’ artefacts. Thus, pupils regard Greek pottery as expensive and valuable objects. They also understand that collecting antiquities would imply a high purchasing power; buying knowingly a fake or a forgery could be considered as a desire to emulate the elites. Learners do associate an archaeological artefact, a Greek pot, with the notion of knowledge, culture and power.

The Victorian lekythos, on the other hand, is immediately compared to the small one also included in the handling collection. In this case, the tactile qualities seem to be the first to be verbalised: the pot is big and heavy unlike the rest of the vases they had the opportunity to lift. The decoration 12 

Kennedy 2016: 2.



Craciun 2012: 846-863.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Fakes from the 19th century are not old enough to be part of an archaeological collection, so learners try to make sense of their presence in the museum. When asked about the function of a fake in the Ure Museum, the first answer is, in fact, that fakes are useful to spot the difference between a genuine pot and a forgery. They immediately understand the role of a fake as an educational resource, an effective tool to actually analyse the materials and techniques used in Ancient Greece. Material culture provides a tangible link between the past and the present,14 and fakes can help us understand how Antiquity has inspired several generations until today. Although these fakes are not ancient, learners begin to apprehend the concept of a historical fake, why Greek pottery was studied by Victorians and their need to reproduce these artefacts for their own contemplation, for aestheticreasons.

curiosity in the typology or iconography (as happened with the rhyton), while others show the beauty of ancient artefacts (as with the Victorian lekythos). Fakes encourage students to take a detective-like approach in their study of the objects. They open up and widen their understanding and engagement with a variety of subjects and contexts. They push children to be creative, to think differently and to stay curious. Bibliography Beazley, J.D. 1989. The training of archaeologists. University Training. In Kurtz, D. C. (ed.) Greek Vases: Lectures by J.D. Beazley: 98-102. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Biggs, J. 2003. Teaching for Quality Learning at University. Buckingham: The Society for research into Higher Education and Open University Press. Chatterjee, H. 2010. Object-based learning in higher education: the pedagogical power of museums. In University and Museums and Collections Journal 3: 179-81. Chatterjee, H. 2008. Touch in museums: policy and practice in object handling. Oxford: Berg. Chatterjee, H. and Hannan, L. 2015. Engaging the senses: objectbased learning in higher education. Abingdon: Routledge. Clarke, A., Dodd, J., Hooper-Greenhill, E., O’Riain, H. Selfridge, L. and Swift, F. 2002. Learning based on museum collections. In Learning Objects Learning through Culture, The DfES Museums and Galleries Education Programme: a guide to good practice: 9-11. Craciun, M. 2012. Rethinking fakes, authenticating selves. In Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 18. 4: 846-863. Doonan, R. and Boyd, M. 2008. Digital Modelling of Object and Process in Artefact Teaching. In Chatterjee, H. (ed.) Touch in Museums. Policy and Practice in Object Handling: 107-120. Oxford: Berg. Durbin, G., Morris, S. and Wilkinson, S. 1991. A teacher’s guide to Learning from Objects. London: English Heritage. Hardie, K. 2015. Innovative pedagogies series. Wow: The power of objects in object-based learning and teaching. In Higher Education Academy: 1-24. Hardie, K. 2008. The power of wow: the exclamation that makes and breaks silence. In Silences in Teaching and Learning: 139-142. Hoffmann, H. 1966. Tarentine rhyta, Mainz: P. von Zabern. Kennedy, A. 2016. The power of objects. In 24 Hour Museums: 1-3. Meyer, J.H.F. and Land, R. 2005. Threshold Concepts and Troublesome knowledge 2: Epistemological Considerations and a Conceptual Framework for Teaching and Learning. In Higher Education 49: 373-388. Paris, S. G. 2002. Perspectives on Object-Centered Learning in Museums. Mahwah: Lawrence Eribaum Associates, Inc. Romanek, D. and Lynch, B. 2008. Touch and the Value of Object Handling: Final Conclusions for a New Sensory Museology. Oxford and New York: Berg. Sánchez Fernández, C. 2011. Original, copia y falso en la cerámica griega. In Berceo 161: 89-105. Shuh, J. H. 1982. Teaching yourself to teach with objects. In Journal of Education 7. 4: 8-15. Sparks, R. T. 2010. Object Handling in the Archaeology Classroom. Strategies for Success. In University Museums and Collections Journal 3: 191-196.

When asked if they consider the fakes to be valuable items, they try to appraise the artefact. In answer to ‘how much do you think it is worth?’ an older or more able child might be able to apply prior knowledge of the object’s history, social and political implications and aesthetic value to make an educated ‘guesstimate’.15 The provocative forms and questionable function of objects that turned out to be fakes served well in students’ contemplation of notions of taste and the consideration of their own preferences. When fakes are studied in the context of the museum, children are likely to study them more closely, as if in a competition to single them out. The intrusion of a fake in an archaeological collection sets a powerful opportunity for discussion. It seems to be easier to apprehend complex and challenging areas of knowledge when several senses are involved in handling the fake.16 Conclusions Object-based learning creates an opportunity for children to engage physically with Greek pottery and provides important and memorable opportunities for them to study key designs and decorative techniques. At the Ure Museum, children experience an emotional response to a multisensory environment, which inspires them to learn more and ask questions about the collection and the university. The introduction of fakes in the session surprises students in their learning; it surpasses children’s expectations of handling objects by creating innovative activities and using unusual artefacts. Fakes are fun and provocative objects that can engender their curiosity and deepen their interest in their studies. Objects can be used to explain and illustrate complex theories in an enjoyable and memorable way and fakes offer a valuable opportunity to provide a focal point for acquiring subject-specific knowledge. Fakes, forgeries, imitations, copies, embellishments: all these concepts are separated by a blurred line that varies in time and space.17 Students learn that Greek vases have boosted a curious fashion in Western Europe since the 16th century that affected diverse arts and crafts and our own reinterpretation of the past. Children learn to appreciate historical fakes and their value as works of art: some of them show scientific Sparks 2010: 191-196. Doonan and Boyd 2008: 108. Kennedy 2016: 2. 16  Chatterjee and Hannan 2015: 4. Meyer and Land 2005: 373-388. 17  Sánchez Fernández 2011: 89-90. 14  15 


Beyond Trade: The Presence of Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels in the Northern Black Sea Area Chiara Tarditi

Figure 1. Macedonian bronze vessels from the Black Sea area (Treister 2010a) The Conference ‘There and back again: Greek art in motion’ was a wonderful opportunity to express our deep gratitude to prof. Boardman, as with his researches and publications he always offered a clear, precise and indispensable point of reference for all who study the different aspects of classical art. As my mainstream study is about Greek bronze vessels of archaic and classical time, on this occasion I wish to analyze a group of already published pieces found in the northern Black Sea area, to propose a more precise attribution to Greek productions.1

been recognized as imports from Macedonia (Figure 1).3 But the situation is different for archaic and classical examples, less and not so carefully studied, for which a more detailed analysis is required. Starting from the archaic period, particularly interesting are some finds from the Seven Brothers tumulus. From tomb no. 2 comes a fragmentary basin of the podanipter type,4 resting on a tripod ring base5 (Figure 2). The handles are moulded in shape of recumbent lions, situated opposite a central flower (or a rosette), and the lateral extensions of the handle end with a snake’s head, originally projecting above the rim of the basin.

The region, corresponding to modern Ukraine, was occupied by Scythians: still nomads during the seventh and sixth century BC, from the fifth they became sedentary, having more intensive contacts with the Greek colonies on the Black Sea coast.2 To this second phase is datable most of the Scythians sites and the imported artefacts found in the area. Mostly artifacts in pottery and metal, largely deriving from barrows or royal tombs, they are all widely studied, exposed in important exhibitions with great public success.

Figured handles of this type are well known from several examples found in different sites, in Greece6 and in southern Italy, mostly in the Apulian area,7 and some specimens of Treister 2010a: 20-21; Treister 2002. Bilimovith 1970: 128-132; Tarditi 2016: 260. 5  Tarditi 2016: Decorative variant: two opposite lions: Bh.3.II.C. b 6  Two pieces from the Athenian Acropolis, 6719 and 7133; one from Olympia (Olympia, Archaeological Museum, Br 5176: Gauer 1991: 240, P 27; Gauer 1981). 7  Ruvo: London, British Museum, 1856.1226.947; Rutigliano, tomb no.9: Taranto, Archaeological Museum, 138157 (Tarditi 1996: 31-32); Ugento, tomb no.2: Taranto Archaeological Museum, 134945-9 (Tarditi 1996: 33); Cavallino, tomb no.1: Taranto Archaeological Museum, 138811 (Tarditi 1996: 30-31); Ruvo: 3  4 

As regards bronze vessels, many pieces of the fourth and third century BC, like situlae or kraters with plain handles, have long

1  2 

Università Cattolica, Brescia (Italy). Tsetskhladze 2011: 120-121.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. Podanipter basin from Semibratnyie and parallels unknown origin are preserved in museums or came from archaeological auctions.8 Judging from the style, the handles from Semibratniye are part of a rather homogeneous group, including the podanipter from the Princely Tomb of Sala Consilina, the one in the Metropolitan Museum and some handles.9 Those on a basin from Ruvo di Puglia kept at Neaples, two from the Athenian Acropolis, a fragmentary one in the British Museum and two from a Christie’s auction, these last three pieces of unknown origin (Figure 2). All of these examples are formally and stylistically very similar, referable to the same production center, if not to the same workshop; they look later of those from Ruvo di Puglia in the British Museum and from the Delcampe auction but close to them for the general shape and the mane, on the forehead made as a band, with short engraved vertical segments, and on the back with flame-shaped strands; but the back of the lion’s body is better molded, with tail and natural paws, so a chronology at the end of the sixth century BC can be suggested.10 As already noted,11 these lions are very close to those used as handles on a group of paterae: common characteristics are the style of the animal and the decorative details, such the rendering of the mane (with a sort of band), muzzle, body (with wellmolded hind legs).12 Of the thirteen known paterae handles, six are of unknown provenance but five come from the Athenian

Acropolis, so it has long been suggested to attribute all of these pieces to the Athenian production:13 Consequently, it is also possible to trace back to Athens the similar lion-shaped podanipter handles, noting how zoomorphic handles are common among Athenian vessel fragments.14 The Semibratniye basin is related to a tripod ring base (Figure 3): judging from the published picture, the ring has a straight profile, decorated with vertical, slightly raised dentils; the three feet, crowned by a kind of Ionic capital, are molded in shape of lion’s paw resting on a small, round base. The closest parallels for the feet seem to be those of the tripod base from the Princely Tomb of Sala Consilina and of one from Cavallino, even if on both the ring is decorated just in the upper part with a row of engraved tongues. A good parallel for the decoration of the ring, made by a row of slightly molded dentils, is offered by a fragment from the Athenian Acropolis.15 As the handles of the basin from Sala Consilina and the closest parallels for the base are all probably of Athenian production,16 we can attribute also the base from Semibratnyie to the same artistic handicraft. A very meaningful piece is a krater from Martonosha,17 in th Dnieper region, of which only one handle and part of the rim have survived (Figure 4). The handle is very close to one at the Louvre allegedly said to be from Cilicia.18 Both are of a volute

Naples, Archaeological Museum, 72196 (Montanaro 2007: 463, no. 103.19, fig. 356); Sala Consilina: Paris, Musèe du Petit Palais, inv. no. Dut 1562. 8  London, British Museum, 1951,1022.2; Paris, Louvre, 2629 and 2636 (De Ridder 1915); New York, Metropolitan Museum, 1998.26; Christie’s New York 7-12-2011, lot no. 99; Delcampe auction no. 118984506 closed on 27-1-2014; Paris, Louvre, 2629 and 2636 (De Ridder 1915). 9  See Tarditi 2016: 259-260. 10  Tarditi 2016: 260. 11  Tarditi 1996:132-135; Tarditi 2014; Tarditi 2016: 260. 12  Tarditi 2016: paterae PA.2. IV.

Jantzen 1958: 15; Gauer 1981: 146; 150-51; Tarditi 1996: 179-180; Tarditi 2016: 290-292. 14  Tarditi 2016. 15  Athens, National Archaeological Museum, 21090. 16  Tarditi 2016: 230. 17  St. Petersburg, Hermitage, Dn 1870 1/1. 18  published by Rolley 2003: 100, said to originate from the De Clercq Collection, Louvre, Br 4467 but not found on the Louvre online 13 


Chiara Tarditi – Beyond Trade: Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels

Figure 3. Tripod base from Semibratnyie and parallels

Figure 4. Krater handle from Martonoscha and parallels type decorated with a complete Gorgon, resting on a flat base from which starts a couple of snakes, on the Louvre handle ending with a Gryphon’s head. The Martonosha handle is plain, with only the upper edge decorated with globular

beads, while on the Louvre one there are also two lines of tongues and engraved palmettes in the middle. The Gorgons have four wings, round faces with small open mouths, each having a protruding tongue and no tusks; their hair is partially concealed by a sort of hood; the right knee is touching the soil, while the left one is just bent, in the convential archaic manner indicative of running. The arms are bent at the waist, with the



Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

hands close each other, in a way that is similar (but not the same) to that of Gorgon knotting a belt made of snakes.19

and amber) found in far contexts are related to the interest for the territories and for the row material passing along the trade routes through these regions; it is a commonly accepted opinion that precious bronze vessels, of exceptional shape and isolated in respect of the main quantity of Greek imported objects, must be intended as diplomatic gifts to promote the establishment of fruitful commercial exchanges.23 And this is certainly true also for the region around the Black Sea: if regular imports of pottery are later than the foundation of the Greek colonies on the Black Sea coasts, they were probably preceded by a long phase of contacts, aimed to promote both the settlement of the colonies and the establishment of regular commercial traffic.

The running Gorgon, with four wings, is quite common in the archaic period, (as on golden plaques, figured pottery or some bronze statuettes, probably decorating the rim of some big vessel); and on archaic krater handles, as well known, the Gorgon is a common decorative figure too, but normally she has snakes instead of legs and no wings. Conversely, as we saw, in both the handles from Martonosha and at Louvre, the Gorgons have wings: four on the front and two others visible from the side, supporting the volutes. Side wings are also on the handles of one of the kraters from Trebenischte (Figure 4), but there they are the true Gorgon’s wings, while on the handles from Martonosha and at the Louvre the Gorgons already have their own wings frontally open. So, it seems that a model like that used at Trebenischte was copied but not really understood, as shown by the vestigial wings below the volute as well as by the hands close but without a belt.

Furthermore for some pieces of the Early Classical Period it is now possible to propose an attribution to the Athenian production. If for several vessels of very characteristic shape (as one patera with anthropomorphic handles of the Acropolis type and one silver kylix from Vani) or with figured decoration in pure Attic style (as e.g. a silver kylix from Semibratnye, with an engraved scene from Greek tragedy)24 there is a commonly accepted attribution to Athenian production (Figure 5), for other vessels with more generic decorative patterns new observations are possible to justify this attribution.

The humanized Gorgon’s face is datable to the end of the sixth century or the beginning of the fifth century, suggesting that both kraters were made when the archaic volutes handles with Gorgon started to be out of date in Greece and a new type appears, decorated by volutes and vegetal tendrils.20 For all these reasons, it seems reasonable that the handles from Martonosha and at the Louvre were made probably in a peripheral, colonial area, maybe Ionic or of the Black Sea region, far enough from the main Greek production centers but with a good working capacity, freely mixing, without understanding them fully, shapes and decorative motif created in Greece during the sixth century.21

From Solocha25 and Semibratniye26 come two basins with handles of very peculiar shape, composed of a rectangular plaque, horizontal and smooth, resting on an arched rodwith a circular section, with attachments in the shape of a regular, plain disc (Figure 6). Handles of this type, for which I propose the definition ‘fixed handles in the shape of a rectangular plaque’,27 are very widespread, well-attested among the finds from the Athenian Acropolis (more than 20 pieces) and more rarely from other contexts, Greek (three from Olympia,28 one from Delphi)29 and southern Italian (Rutigliano;30 Monte PrunoRoscigno,31 Roccagloriosa32 or more generically Puglia),33 with a couple of handles of unknown origin in Berlin.34 All the specimens are very similar, differing only in dimensions, thickness and width of the plaque: all are smooth, without any engraved or plastically-molded decoration, which is instead frequent on specimens dating from the late fifth and fourth centuries.35 Moreover, on the handles from Solocha and Semibratnyie the arched shape of the rod is highlighted on the outer side by a thin engraved line, as on some handles from the

The finds from Martonosha and Semibratnyie are very important for several reasons. Firstly, they are among the oldest finds of Greek bronze vessels in the area; and it is notable that one is a krater, a very precious and rare shape. It has already been noted that the Scythian elite appreciated banquet Greek vessels, well attested among rich local burial finds.22 The presence of kraters and of basins of ‘podanipter type’, just as other items related to the banquet, in very different and far distant indigenous contexts is certainly related to the spread of this social practice among local elite who came in touch with Greek aristocracy, adopting and/ or emulating customs which allowed them to express their inclusion in the hegemonic class, representing itself as equal to that aristocratic Greek world, which they knew through early commercial exchanges.

Tarditi 2007; Sheffton 2001. Skytische Kunst 1986, no. 117 (St. Petersburg, Hermitage, Cbp VI 11). 25  Boltrik, Fialko, Treister 2011, fig. 7. 26  Semibratniye tomb no. 4 (Bilimovitch 1970: 132, 133 fig. 4). 27  Tarditi 2016: Bh.5: they can be of two types: fully casted or with a rectangular hollow for a lead filling, sometimes preserved. 28  Olympia, Archaeological Museum, B 5936; Br 13628/B7221; Br 12914 (Gauer 1991: 239, P20-22). 29  Personal communication of Dr. V. Meirano. 30  Tarditi 1996 : 37-38, nos. 48 and 51. We distinguished these pieces from other found in several southern Italian contexts similar but with more irregular attachments, for which is suggested a local, Apulian production (Tarditi 1996: 136-37). 31  Holloway, Nabers 1982: 131, fig. 33-34. 32  Gualtieri 1990: 165, no. 3, tab. LXIV, nos. 4-5. 33  Bassano del Grappa (Vicenza, Italy), Chini Collection (largely made of materials from Apulia), inv. no. 539 (Tarditi 1995: 191-92). 34  Berlin, Antikensammlung, Fr 1397. 35  e.g., Berlin, Antikensammlung, Fr.594. 23  24 

Offering precious gifts to local chiefs is a common practice well attested in all the regions where Greeks came in contact with structured indigenous communities, as central Europe (Vix, Laveau, Hochdorf, Grafenbuhl) or Italy (Sirolo, Castelbellino, Amendola, Ruvo di Puglia): important pieces of Greek handicraft (as hydriai, kraters, lebetes, tripods or klinai inlaid with ivory In terms of examples one acroterion from the Athenian Acropolis (Athens, Acropolis Museum, Acr. 701); or on the feet of the cista from the Princely tomb of Sala Consilina (Paris, Musèe du Petit Palais, O. Dut. 1563). 20  Tarditi 2016: 303-304 21  See Piotrovsky 1973-74: 19; on metalwork craftsmanship in Black Sea area: Treister 2010b. 22  Petropoulos 2015: 96; D’Agostino 2006; Tarditi 2007. 19 


Chiara Tarditi – Beyond Trade: Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels

Figure 5. Attic silver vessels from Vani and Semibratnyie

Figure 6. Basins from Semibratnyie and Solocha Athenian acropolis36 and on the one in the Chini Collection at Bassano del Grappa.37 The high degree of homogeneity among the assemblage suggests that the majority of the pieces likely came from the same production site: as the main quantity was found on the Athenian Acropolis, compared with singular finds from other areas, it seems probably to attribute all of them to

the Athenian production, occasionally exported abroad. The few known chronological references38 suggest a production period in the fifth century. One of the handles at Olympia came from a Classical or Hellenistic context (Gauer 1991: 239, P20); the tomb of Rutigliano is approximately dated to the fifth century (Tarditi 1996: 37-38) and that of Semibratniye is more approximately dated from the first half of the fifth century to the first half of the fourth century (Butyagin, Treister 2006). 38 

Athens, National Archaeological Museum,; 21215; 21329/ι. 37  See note 32. 36 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. Olpe from Myrmekion and parallels From Myrmekion, in Crimea, comes a bi-conical oenochoe (Figure 7),39 with oval body and a clear edge between shoulder and belly, which justifies its attribution to the oinochoai shape.40 The surface is completely smooth; the surmounting handle is simply joined to the rim by three rivets, while the lower attachment is decorated with a very oxidized lion head with side forepaws. This oenochoe is of a well-known type,41 very homogeneous in shape, technique (all lost wax casted) and handle, attested in Greece42 and in southern Italy.43 The body, relatively slim and elongated, suggests a chronology in the first half of the fifth century.44 Judging from the distribution area and from the existence of very close imitations in Attic pottery, a Greek origin is highly probable.45 Very similar is a oenochoe in the Fleischman Collection, with the same lower attachment of the handle. The scratched inscription on the body is attributed to the area of Eretria, while the piece is possibly of Attic production.46

The most interesting group of Greek bronze vessels from the Black Sea area was found at Peschanoe, on the Dnieper valley: three amphorae, five hydriai, three basins, one tripod base, one amphora-situla, two situlae, one stamnos, one krater, all probably part of a small boat cargo and typically quoted as imported Greek vessels of different chronology.47 The krater, the ovoid situla and the one with spout decorated with a lion’s head have been recognized as probably Macedonian products, datable to the fourth century BC;48 for other pieces a more precise stylistic analysis is necessary. One amphora has the handles’ attachment decorated by a lion’s head (Figure 8): very narrow at the bottom. It has a smooth rim and the two handles are decorated with a central smooth rib running along the length, ending on the top with a sort of stylized snake’s head. The upper attachment is in the shape of two wide volutes just below the rim, and the lower one is decorated with a raised lion’s head. The amphora of Peschanoe is very close to one in the Metropolitan Museum at New York:49 they have same shape, very narrow on the bottom, rim and handles, with the upper attachment in shape of double, big and flat volute and the lower ones decorated with a lion’s protome with the same plastic mane tufts, in the shape of a comma on the forehead, and molded muzzle. The two pieces look like they were made in the same workshop.

Butyagin, Treister 2006. Instead of that of ‘olpai’ as in Butyagin, Treister 2006: 137. 41  Weber 1983, type III.B, corresponding to the pottery type 5a of Beazley. 42  From Argolis (Paris, Louvre, 2731) and from Sindos, in Macedonia (Thessaloniki, Archaeological Museum, 8549) 43  From Rutigliano, Vaste, Montescaglioso (Tarditi 1996: 81-83; 163164. 44  Tarditi 1996: 163. 45  Erroneously Treister (Butyagin, Treister 2006) refers to my proposal to attribute the examples from South Italy to a local production, which I proposed only for few pieces from Rudiae, Vaste and Valesio, very differently made, with simply hammered bronze sheet (Tarditi 1996: 164). 46  True, see Hamma 1994: 61-63. 39  40 

Lion’s heads of the same type are found on some hydriai with surmounting vertical handle. In the wide group of hydriai with Ganina 1970; Treister 2010a. Treister 2010a. 49  New York, Metropolitan Museum, 2004.171 a,b (Picòn 2007, no.107 and on line catalogue). 47  48 


Chiara Tarditi – Beyond Trade: Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels

Figure 8. Amphora from Peschanoe and parallel this type of handle, the upper attachment commonly ends with a lion’s head and the lower one with the figure of a Siren: but in a small group, the lower attachment too is in shape of lion’s head (Figure 9),50 very close to those on the handles of the amphorae from Peschanoe and at the Met (in the shape of their ears, manes, and skin folds on the muzzle). The same rendering of the lion’s head features on some mobile handle attachments51 and paterae grips,52 all of high quality, carefully molded and naturalistically rendered, with the same flame, muzzle, eyes, nose, etc. in low relief (Figure 9). The mane on the forehead and on the sides, of straight profile, is decorated with finely-engraved hatches, the ears are large and semicircular, the details of the muzzle are soft and naturalistically wrought, with the folds of the skin marked by engraved lines. In all the pieces, the muzzle is so close that we can attribute them, if not to the work of a single workshop, at least to the same artistic area or to an intentional reproduction from a single model. The number of pieces coming from the Athenian Acropolis suggests an Athenian production, that we

can propose also for the hydriai with surmounting vertical handle with lower attachment in the shape of a lion’s mask.53 The double, big and flat volute of the upper attachment is found on another piece from Peschanoe, an amphora-situla with the lower attachment in the shape of a palmette with double volutes (Figure 10). The palmette has eleven, round ending leaves, with the central one longer than the others; the flat, double volutes are connected by a horizontal band decorated with a line of engraved ‘X’. A very similar palmette is on one oenochoe from a Scythian borrow.54 This type of palmette seems to be typical of Athenian production, well attested from the second half of the sixth century on different Athenian artifacts, such as figured pottery, marble stelai or antefixes:55 the main feature is the relatively high number of round ending leaves, usually seven or nine, rarely more (eleven or thirteen)56 or less (five),57 with the central leaf more elongated. The amphora-situla from Peschanoe is very close to one in the Metropolitan Museum,58 with the same upper attachment of the handle, while the lower one is decorated with a humanized Gorgoneion of Athenian type:59 for this and for the type of the palmette, we can attribute also the amphora-situla from Peschanoe (and the oenochoe from the Scythian borrow) to Athenian production of the beginning of the fifth century.

Dodone: Athens, Archaeological Museum, Carapanos Collection; Paris, Louvre, Br 4643; New York, Metropolitan Museum, inv. no. 1981.11.23; Toledo, Ohio, Toledo Museum of Art, 1964.125 (on line catalogue). 51  Examples from the Athenian Acropolis (Athens, National Archaeological Museum, 7099; 7103; 7104; 7112; Berlin, Antikensammlung, 7491): Tarditi 2014: 42-43; Tarditi 2016: 240242. 52  From Athenian Acropolis (Athens, National Archaeological Museum, 7199); Boston, Museum of Fine Arts, 69.956 (Comstock, Vermeule 1972: 493, no. 451A and the online Museum catalogue); Olympia, Archaeological Museum, 14030; 12866; s, Baltimorerchaeological Museumoup, orrsity 96, p.107)they belong to paterae and not to strainer, which ttima-Calabria),3, BaBesee also one oinochoe handle in Berlin, Antikensammlung, 12424 (for all Furtwängler 1890: 147, nos. 923, 924 and 924a); Sotheby’s auction New York 5-6-1999, lot 113, sold again by Christie’s, London, 26-102004, lot no. 7017. 50 

Tarditi 2016: 270. Ganina 1970, fig.38; Shtitelman 1977, fig. 57-58. Tarditi 2016: 216-217; 315; fig.3. 56  E.g., Athens, National Archaeological Museum 23962; 7111; 21243; handle of the louterion at New York, Metropolitan Museum, inv. no. 59.11.23a; handle of the hydria at Mariemont, Musée Royal, inv. no. B 210. 57  E.g., Athens, Archaeological Museum, handle 21470 α-β. 58  New York, Metropolitan Museum 60.11.2. 59  Tarditi 2016: 261; 313-314. 53  54  55 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 9. Lion’s protome of Attic type

Figure 10. Amphora-situla from Peschanoe and palmette of Attic type The tripod base (Figure 11) has a low ring, solid cast feet in the shape of lion’s paws crowned by an Ionic capital: the lion’s paws are very naturalistic, with long claws and the capital, slightly raised, has side leaves (or half-palmette). Many feet in shape of lion’s paws, found alone60 or joined to a base,61 have

the same features: the biggest group came from the Athenian Acropolis (fourteen pieces), while only individual finds came from other Greek sites:62 the significant concentration among the Acropolis materials suggests again that we should attribute all of these pieces, stylistically similar to one another, to Athenian production.

the biggest group is that from the Athenian Acropolis, with fourteen pieces: Tarditi 2016: 38-39. 61  Boston, Museum Fine Arts, 96.678; New York, Metropolitan 60 

Museum, 38.11.5 a-b. 62  Olympia; Dodone; Delphi: see Tarditi 2016: 219.


Chiara Tarditi – Beyond Trade: Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels

Figure 11. Basin with tripod base from Peschanoe and parallels One of the basins (Figure 11), of very simple profile, has an oval, mobile handle, inserted into a plain half-reel with an unusual attachment in the shape of a winged Siren with vegetal volutes, resting on a raised palmette.63

another: body smooth or decorated with engraved plumage; hairs smooth or with defined strands; wings with one or double row of feathers; different shapes of the volutes. Leaving open the question of the production area, we can suggest that probably the attachment on the basin is not original, as it is the only one of this shape with a Siren attachment. It might be a repair, re-using an attachment from a hydria or a kalpis. We can assume something similar also for a strainer from Nymphaion67 (Figure 12), which presents an unusual decoration of the handle in shape of winged Siren, stylistically very close to that on the basin from Peschanoe. The handle of the strainer is moreover decorated with an engraved palmette with double volutes of the Athenian type.68 On the sides of the Siren there are two double volutes with a small leaf add to the upper one, making the stylized image of a duck’s head, a shape resumed from archaic Laconian palmettes and common on the Athenian ones.69

As previously stated, the winged Siren is frequently used as lower attachments of the vertical handle on hydriai and kalpides from the end of the sixth century and for all the classical period:64 also among the vessels from Peschanoe there is one kalpis (hydria no. 1) with this decoration65 (Figure 12). It is the most decorated one among the kalpides from Peschanoe, with fluted handels, attachments with raised tongues, rim and foot decorated with small tongues in negative relief, all features suggesting a chronology already in the full fifth century BC. The many known examples of hydriai and kalpides of this type show a great degree of variability in the rendering of the Siren and of the volutes and, as already noted, it is difficult to recognize homogeneous groups and different productions so as to identify some chronological markers and arrange them sequentially.66 I concur on this point and recognize how necessary it is to conduct a more careful evaluation of the various specimens. We can note here only that the Sirens on the pieces of Peschanoe (basin and kalpis) are different from one

The other kalpides from Peschanoe70 are all plain, with smooth handles and attachment, with only the rim decorated with small raised tongues71 (Figure 26). The hydria no. 2 is unique for it has a small plaque set on the shoulder in shape of an eagle holding a snake in its beak, a rare decorative motive. In all the pieces the attachment are in perfectly rounded shapes, a variant well attested in many regions,72 without a recognizable main production center.

The handle is decorated with small globular beads set on a kind of slightly raised band, a decoration common enough on basin handles, as attested mainly by several pieces from Athens and Olympia, or of unknown provenance. This decorative pattern is recurrent on several vessels shapes, as the basins, amphorae-situlae and krater-situlae, hydriai horizontal handles, so common and easily reproducible that it is difficult to attribute all the pieces to one production, even if from the Athenian Acropolis came the most numerous examples and many of the pieces from other sites can be attributed for different reason to Athenian production (e.g. hydriai from Castelbellino, at Toledo, basin at the Metropolitan Museum; krater from Stavroupolis, etc.. 64  Sowder 2009: 159-202, groups 15 and 16, with more than 100 vases or fragments. 65  Hydria 1 (Ganina 1970). 66  Sowder 2009: 191. 63 

The presence among the vessels from Peschanoe of pieces of different chronology, from the late sixth-early fifth century to Nymphaion, tomb no.24: St. Petersburg, Hermitage, GK H 94 (Skythische Kunst 1986, fig. 109). 68  For the palmette of Athenian type Tarditi 2016: 315-316. 69  Tarditi 2016: 315. 70  Ganina 1970, hydriai nos. 2-5. 71  Hydriai 1; 3-5. 72  Tarditi 2016: 275-276, type Kah.1.B and Kah.2.A. 67 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 12. Siren attachments from Peschanoe and Nymphaion the fourth-early third, suggested that it was a boat load of a trader who sold old bronze vessels to buyers who appreciated Greek products, even if they were not updated to the most recent style:73 for the older pieces we don’t have to think necessary of direct imports from Greece, they could simply passed from hand to hand, in regions more and more distant from the production area.

sites and Lemnos:76 it is likely that their distribution is linked to the use of the same maritime trade-route, rising from Attica to the northern Aegean and from there up to the Black Sea, ensuring the circulation of high-quality products from Athenian workshops in those countries politically dependent on Athens. Bibliography


Arti di Efesto. 2002. M. Rubinich, A. Giumlia-Mair (edd.), Le arti di Efesto. Milano: Silvana. Bilimovitch, Z.A. 1970/73. Deux cuvettes de bronze de provenence des tumulus dits Sémibratniye. In Sov.Arkheol.: 128-35 (in Russian). Boardman, J. 1994. The Diffusion of Classical Art in Antiquity. London: Thames & Hudson. Boltrik, Yu.V., Fialko, E.F., Treister, M. 2011. Imported Bronze vessels from the East Catacomb in the Berdyansk Barrow. In Ancient Civilisations from Scythia to Siberia 17: 255-278. Braund, D. 2007. Black Sea Grain for Athens? From Herodotous to Demosthenes. In V. Gabrielsen, J. Lund (edd.), The Black Sea in Antiquity, Black sea Studies 6: 39-68. Butyagin, A.M., Treister, M. 2006. A bronze olpe from the Myrmeikon hoard. In Ancient Civilisation 12, 1-2: 133-146. Comstock, M., Vermeule, C. 1972. Greek, Etruscan, & Roman Bronzes in the Museum of Fine Arts. Boston: Greenwich. D’Agostino, B. 2006. The First Greeks in Italy. In G.R. Tsetskhladze (ed.), Greek Colonisation: An Account of Greek Colonies and Other Settlements Overseas, vol. I: 201-237. Leiden-Boston: Brill. De Ridder, A. 1915. Bronzes antiques du Louvre, vol II: Instrumentum. Paris: Leroux.

The stylistic analysis made it possible to propose an Athenian production for several bronze vessels from different sites around the Black sea. The chronology of the pieces goes from the second half of the sixth century (basin from Semibratnyie with lions handles) to second half of the fifth (silver cup with tragedy scene from Semibratnyie), that is the period when Athens starts to increase its presence in the Black Sea area:74 the conquest of the Thracian Chersonese in the midsixth century contributed significantly to the development of Athenian trade in this region and to the spread of valuable materials, used as elements of exchange in trade, particularly for the rich elites of the indigenous communities. One of the most repeated reasons is the supposed interest in the grain trade, as mentioned in several literary sources starting from the middle fifth century, but the question is still open and other items are assumed to have played an important role.75 For the period from the late sixth on, the Athenian bronze vessels found in these regions seem contemporary with the Athenian pieces from the Macedonian

Fuchs 1978: 115. Kakhidze 2005. 75  Braund 2007: 39-68; Moreno 2007: 69-70; Tsetskhladze 2010b. 73  74 



Tarditi 2016: 318-319.

Chiara Tarditi – Beyond Trade: Archaic and Classical Greek Bronze Vessels

Shtitelman, F.M. 1977. Works of world art in the Ukraine Museums, Kiev. Skytische Kunst 1986: B.B. Piotrovskij, L. Konstantinovna Galanina, A. Petrunin (edd), Skytische Kunst: Altertümer der skytischen Welt: Mitte des 7. Bis zum 3. Jahrbundert v.u.Z. Leningrad: Aurora. Sowder, A.A.2009. Greek Bronze Hydriai, dissertation Emory University. Tarditi, C. 1996. Vasi in bronzo in area Apula. Galatina: Congedo Tarditi, C. 2007. La diffusione del vasellame in bronzo greco in Italia e in Europa: modalità e limiti. In C. Tarditi (ed.), Dalla Grecia all’Europa: la circolazione di beni di lusso e di modelli culturali nel VI e V sec. a.C.: 23-52. Milano: Vita e Pensiero. Tarditi, C. 2014. Il motivo del leone nell’Atene arcaica. Diffusione e stile nella produzione ateniese di vasellame in bronzo. In Erga-Logoi 2.2: 31-63. Tarditi, C. 2016. Bronze vessels from the Acropolis. Roma: Quasar Treister, M. 2002. Grecia settentrionale e il Regno del Bosforo. In Le arti di Efesto: 63-67. Milano: Silvana. Treister, M. 2010a. Bronze and Silver Greek, Macedonian and Etruscan Vessels in Scythia. In Bollettino di Archeologia on line, vol. speciale, 17th International Congress of Classical Archaeology, Roma 22-26 Sept. 2008: 9-26. Treister, M. 2010b. Аrchaic Bronzes. Greece – Asia Minor – North Pontic Area. In S. Solovyov (ed.), Archaic Greek Culture: History, Archaeology, Art and Museology, Proceedings of the International Round-Table Conference, St-Petersburg June 2005, BAR: 109-120. Solovyov (ed.), Archaic Greek Culture: History, Archaeology, Art and Museology, Proceedings of the International RoundTable Conference, St-Petersburg June 2005, BAR: 109-120. True, M., Hamma, K. 1994. A passion for Antiquities. Malibu: J Paul Getty Museum Publications . Tstetskhladze, G.R. 2010. Beware of Greeks Bearing Gifts. In R. Rollinger, B. Gufler, M. Lang, I. Madreiter (edd.), Interkulturalität in der Alten Welt: 41-55. Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz. Tstetskhladze, G.R. 2010b. Black Sea Trade: some further general observations. In Anadolou araştirmalari 19, 2006: 197-212. Tstestskhladze, G.R. 2011. The Scythians: Three Essays. In G.R. Tstetskhladze (ed.), The Black Sea, Greece, Anatolia and Europe in the First Millennium BC: 95-139. Leuven: Peeters Publishers. Vlassopoulou, C. 1990. Decorated architectural terracottas from the Athenian Acropolis, Catalogue of Exhibition. In Hesperia 59: 1-31. Weber, T. 1983. Bronzekannen. Archäologische Studien 5. Frankfurt am Main-Bern.

Fitzwilliam Exposition. From the Land of the Golden Fleece. Tomb treasures of Ancient Georgia, Fitzwilliam Museum, Cambridge 2008-2009. Fuchs, W. 1978. Bronzegefässe in Kiev. In Boreas 1: 113-115. Furtwängler, A. 1890. Die Bronzen und die übrigen kleineren Funde von Olympia, OLYMPIA IV. Berlin: Asher. Ganina, O.D. 1970. Antichni bronzi iz Pishchanogo. Kiev. Gauer, W. 1981. Ein spätarchaischer Becken-griff mit Tierkampfgruppe, Olympiabericht X: 111-165. Berlin: De Gruyter. Gauer, W. 1991. Die Bronzegefässe von Olympia, I, Olympische Forschungen XX. Berlin: De Gruyter. Gualtieri, M. 1990. Rituale funerario di una aristocrazia lucana (fine V-inizio III sec. a.C.). In M. Tagliente (ed.), Italici in Magna Grecia. Lingua, insediamenti e strutture: 161-214. Venosa: Osanna. Holloway, R. R., Nabers, N. 1982. The princely burial of Roscingo (Monte Pruno), Salerno. In Revue des Archéologues et Historiens d’Art de Louvain: 97-163. Jantzen, U.1958. Griechische Griffphialen, Winkelmannsprogramm Berlin 114: 5-29. Kakhidze, A. 2005. Athens and the Black Sea Area in the Late Archaic and Classical Periods. In D. Kacharava, M. Faudot, E. Geny (edd.), Pont-Euxin et  polis:  polis hellenis  et  polis barbaron. Actes du Xe Symposium de Vani, 23-26 septembre 2002 : Hommage à Otar Lordkipanidzé et Pierre Lévêque, Collection ‘ ISTA ‘ Année 2005 Volume 979 : 115-118. Montanaro, A. C. 2007. Ruvo di Puglia e il suo territorio: le necropoli, Roma: L’Erma di Bretschneider. Moreno, A. 2007. Athenian Wheat-Tsars: Black Sea Grain and Elite Culture. In V. Gabrielsen, J. Lund (edd.), The Black Sea in Antiquity: regional and interregional economics exchanges: 69-84. Aarthus: Aarthus University Press. Petropoulos E. K. 2015. Ancient Greek Colonisation and Modern Scholarship: Colonial Endeavours in the Black Sea Region. In P. Adam-Veleni (ed.), Greek Colonisation New Data, Current Approaches, Proceedings of the Scientific Meeting held in Thessaloniki (6 February 2015): 93-112. Picòn, C.A. 2007. Art of the Classical World in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York: Yale University Press. Piotrovsky, B. 1973-74. Early Cultures of the Lands of the Scythians. In From the land of the Schythians, cat. Exposition, Metropolitan Bull 32: 12-25. Rolley, C. 2003: Cl. Rolley (ed), La tombe princière de Vix. Paris: Piccard. Scythian Gold 2000. E.D. Reeder (ed.), Scythian Gold. New York: Abrams. Shefton B.B.2001. Adriatic links between Aegean Greece and early iron age Europe during the archaic and early classical periods. In Anemos 2: 7-44.



Greek Pottery



Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece Anthony F. Mangieri

Figure 1. Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos, Attic red-figure cup attributed to Makron, obverse with Mission of Triptolemos, including Demeter, Persephone, and Eleusis, ca. 490-480 BCE. London, The British Museum E140. Around 490-480 BCE the Athenian red-figure vase-painter Makron decorated a cup with a scene from the cult myth of the Eleusinian Mysteries, today in the British Museum (Figures 1-2, 5, 9).1 Scholars refer to it as the ‘Triptolemos skyphos’ after the picture of Triptolemos’ departure on the obverse, which has attracted the most interest. This paper offers a new interpretation of Makron’s vase by shifting attention to the representation of Demeter in the departure scene, since it is her Mysteries that are celebrated. In particular, I focus on Makron’s singular creation of Demeter’s historiated himation, which depicts eagles, dolphins, large felines, chariots, swans, and running and winged figures, all silhouetted in black, racing around the horizontal bands of her mantle between rows of pattern (Figure 2).

garments once worn by historical people.2 Instead, I examine Demeter’s cloak as a poetic construction that reveals the artist’s exegesis of myth and cult. J.D. Beazley commented that ‘the signal beauty of his [Makron’s] drawing resides in his women’s clothes.’3 While Makron is known to like decorative detailing, I argue that he uses decoration in meaningful ways to add new layers of meaning to his picture and that the Triptolemos skyphos offers a case study that allows us to explore the poetics of decorating dress in vase-painting. Makron was one of the great cup painters active during the Late Archaic period, and even within his prolific output— which includes over 600 vases and fragments attributed to his hand—the imagery of Demeter’s cloak is unique. Many of the motifs Makron selects are rare for our artist or used sparingly

Scholars have been most interested in representations of dress on Greek vases for what they can tell us about actual

On Greek dress, see recently Lee 2015, Brøns 2017; on its decoration, see Lee 2015: 93-5, Vickers 1999; on approaches to ancient dress, see Cifarelli and Gawlinski 2017. 3  Beazley 1918: 102. On Makron’s representation of dress, see Kunisch 1997: 56-61. 2 

London, The British Museum E140 (ARV2 459.3, 481, 1654, Paralipomena 377, Addenda2 243, BAPD 204683). 1 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Eleusinian Mysteries, the most important mystery cult for the Greeks that was active for over 1,000 years and the secrets of which were never revealed.6 Makron’s vase is significant in the history of Greek vase-painting because it is the first or one of the first to do a number of things. Makron gives us the first true geographical personification in the figure of Eleusis, one of the first scenes of Triptolemos making a libation, the first Triptolemos scene that wraps 360-degrees around the entire vase, and the earliest representation of Dionysos in a certain Eleusinian context.7 While Makron depicts Triptolemos’ mission using familiar iconographic conventions, his noteworthy creation of Demeter’s cloak is another of his accomplishments. Demeter, described in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter as ‘mighty giver of seasons and glorious gifts’ (line 492), holds a sheaf of grain in her left hand and a flaming torch in her right.8 The goddess’ himation is an elaborate affair divided into horizontal bands of decoration with figures and creatures painted in black against the reserved color of the clay as in the black-figure technique. Ten different motifs appear on the cloak, each a varying number of times. The most common motif is the dolphin, which appears four times with wings and eleven times without wings, followed by the eagle or bird that appears eight times. There are also three panthers, three horses, one Pegasos, three running men, one winged running figure, and two swans. The most complex is a two horse chariot and rider, which appears in full just once and is likely suggested at least two more times. Makron’s painting of Demeter’s garment is an artistic creation comparable to ekphrases of dress and textiles in ancient literature.9 In dressing Demeter in such a robe, Makron moves beyond mere embellishment and creates a visual encomium that celebrates the goddess, telling her story and embodying the religious fervor central to the Mysteries, similar to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. It is to Demeter’s himation as a mode of storytelling and its relation to the Homeric Hymn to Demeter that we turn next. Telling the Cult Myth of the Eleusinian Mysteries

Figure 2. Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos, detail, drawing of Demeter (artwork in the public domain; photograph from Adolf Furtwängler and Karl Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei: Auswahl hervorragender Vasenbilder, vol. 3 [Munich: F. Bruckmann, 1932], pl. 161).

The earliest known telling of the Demeter and Persephone myth in art or literature is the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, composed between 650-550 BCE by an anonymous poet or poets, and it is important for our understanding of Eleusinian cult practice.10 It is also our fullest surviving literary source for the Eleusinian Mysteries. We can imagine ancient viewers looking at the goddess’ garment, and its decoration serving as a prompt for storytelling, reminding beholders of the cult myth, like that told in the Hymn, that might then trigger

elsewhere in his work; they are not just hastily executed filler.4 Rather, I will show how Makron uses sartorial decoration to tell the cult myth of Eleusis, to imagine a visual cosmology, and to model the religious experience of revelation, thus transforming his cup into a devotional object that sheds new light on art and the Mysteries in ancient Greece.

On the Eleusinian Mysteries and mystery cults in general, see Mylonas 1961, Burkert 1985: 285-90, Burkert 1987, ThesCRA 2 (2004), s.v. Initiation, p. 91-6 (W. Burkert); ThesCRA 7 (2011), s.v. Feste und Spiele, p. 11 note 57, and p.118-21 (I. Krauskopf), Parker 2005: 327-68, Bowden 2010, Bremmer 2014, Cosmopoulos 2015. 7  Shapiro 2013: 94-6, Shapiro 1989: 87. 8  On Demeter in art, see LIMC 4 (1988), s.v. Demeter, p. 844-92 (L. Beschi). All translations of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter are by H.P. Foley 1999. 9  Barthes 1967: 236 on clothing as a ‘poetic object.’ On textiles in literature, see Vickers 1999, Scheid and Svenbro 2001, Fanfani, Harlow, and Nosch 2016. 10  On seeing the poem as significant for understanding the cult, see Parker 1991: 6, Simon 1997: 99, Faulkner 2011: 21; against, see Clinton 1986: 43-9, Clinton 1992: 28-37. 6 

In the Mission of Triptolemos scene, Demeter has just shared her secrets of agriculture with the Eleusinian prince, who rides in a winged wheel seat to take these gifts to the world (Figure 1).5 Persephone pours a libation into the prince’s phiale and behind her is a woman named Eleusis, a personification of the place where the Mysteries take place. Inscriptions name all of the figures. This scene represents the founding of the On Makron, see Kunisch 1997, Beazley 1955: 84-97, von Bothmer 1982: 29-52, Robertson 1992: 100-6. 5  On Triptolemos in art, see LIMC 8 (1997), s.v. Triptolemos, p. 56-68 (G. Schwarz) with earlier bibliography. 4 


Anthony F. Mangieri – Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece

further narrative and contemplation. Individual motifs like the chariot and rider, for instance, could bring to mind Hades’ abduction of Persephone and descent to the underworld or her ascent back to earth. The image of the chariot and driver on the Triptolemos skyphos stands out especially for being rare in Makron’s work. Besides the image on Demeter’s himation, we only know Makron to have painted a chariot team one other time.11 On Demeter’s cloak, the chariot appears above the row of zigzags, eagles, dolphins, and palmettes. It brings to mind the ascent back to earth that Hades makes with Persephone that we read about in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, with their chariot swiftly making the long journey, in which ‘not sea nor / river waters, not grassy glens nor mountain peaks / slowed the speed of the immortal horses, / slicing the deep air as they flew above these places.’12 Makron’s imagery encourages viewers to see in the pictures a story they already know, with the zigzags and eagles conjuring the soaring over mountain peaks, the dolphins representing the sea, and the palmettes for the grassy glens. Another example is the flying eagles on Demeter’s himation that evoke the simile in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter that describes how the goddess ‘sped like a bird over dry land and sea, / searching.’13 The eagles towards the lower hem of Demeter’s cloak that soar over a row of dolphins and palmettes bring to mind such a description. Homer often compares the movement of gods and goddesses to that of birds, so such poetic language and imagery would have been readily grasped as part of an established tradition.14

The Triptolemos skyphos is not the only vase that demonstrates Makron’s love of embellishing garments and of using decoration for narrative and poetic effects. On a kylix in Berlin, Makron dresses a cult statue of Dionysos in a garment decorated mainly with dolphins and ornamental bands of scrollwork that look as if the dolphins leap up from waves of the sea (Figures 3 and 4).18 The dolphins may have prompted some viewers to think of the story in the Homeric Hymn to Dionysos (7) that tells of the god turning the pirates who kidnap him into dolphins. The dolphins, thus, bring to mind a story about transformation, appropriate for the scene of maenads on Makron’s cup depicting the worship of the god of wine and the ecstatic, altered states associated with him. Makron may depict Dionysos again on this vase as decoration on the pediment of the altar in his honor, and the god appears ‘in the flesh’ in the cup’s tondo. These different versions of Dionysos—cult statue, altar decoration, and god incarnate— reverberate off of one another to create a clever visual play and self-referentiality. Makron’s embellishment of Dionysos’ garment not only evokes another story, but also triggers contemplation of the god’s nature, powers, different aspects, and realms of influence. At the same time, Makron is not the first nor the only vase-painter to decorate garments with poetic intentions, a broader narrative practice that reveals how such decoration interacts with the context of a scene’s subject matter.19 An earlier example is the François vase, on which Kleitias uses the motif of the chariot procession to decorate peploi of figures taking part in the procession celebrating the marriage of Peleus and Thetis in a selfreferential, picture-in-picture conceit.20

Similarly, Demeter’s cloak prompts viewers to recall specific features of the cult myth’s narrative and poetic elaboration known to us from the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. In effect, the himation becomes a storytelling cloth.15 Being able to record stories or events through textiles (like Helen’s weaving of the battles of the Greeks and Trojans in the Iliad) and to deduce a narrative from a woven picture (like the story of Prokne and Philomela) is part of Greek narrative and mythological traditions, and it is within this matrix of storytelling and textiles that Makron’s creation belongs.16 Likewise, a gigantomachy decorated the peplos for the cult statue of Athena that the Athenians wove yearly for the Panathenaia as an offering to the patron goddess of their city.17 Makron may have intended something similar to honor Demeter on the celebration of her most important festival. Once we see Demeter’s himation as a storytelling cloth, we have to consider its role within the vase’s larger decoration. Just as the Homeric Hymn to Demeter has two narratives, we might think of the obverse of Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos as also having a framing story and a central story. The central story is Triptolemos’ departure to take Demeter’s gifts of agriculture to humankind, while Demeter’s himation offers the framing story, which recalls and evokes events and themes from the cult myth.

As the imagery of Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos encircles it in a 360 degree frieze, we need to consider how the figures of Zeus, Dionysos, and Amphitrite on the reverse, and of Poseidon under one handle, relate to the Eleusinian scene on the front and further help to tell the cult myth of the Mysteries (Figure 5). The images on Demeter’s himation can be seen as visual cues that signal the attributes and iconography of the divinities represented elsewhere on the cup. So, for instance, the eagles can evoke Zeus, the dolphins and horses bring to mind Poseidon, and the felines cue Dionysos, well known references in the repertoire of Attic iconography. All of these gods play a role in the context of the Eleusinian myths and have connections to Demeter. Zeus was Persephone’s father and in the opening lines of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter we learn that he allows Hades to abduct her without Demeter’s consent. Alan Shapiro has already commented on the close connections between Poseidon and Demeter in the cult, and how these are reflected on Makron’s skyphos.21 Stories of abduction and rape bind the figures on this vase. Just as Hades abducts and rapes Persephone, so too did Poseidon’s pursuit of Amphitrite occur in the same way. In myth, Demeter is raped by both Zeus and Poseidon. That contemporary people may have seen allusions to these various myths of rape finds support in the archaeological context of Makron’s skyphos, which was found in the Brygos Tomb in Campania, Italy. In this tomb, six abduction scenes appear on four of its seven

Paris, Musée du Louvre G271 (ARV2 461.33, Addenda2 244, BAPD 204715). Makron also depicts boys playing with toy chariots on an aryballos in Oxford, Ashmolean Museum 1929.175 (ARV2 480.337, 1585, Addenda2 247, BAPD 205020). See von Bothmer 1982: 40, Kunisch 1997: 102-3. 12  Hom. Hymn. Dem. 380-3. 13  Hom. Hymn. Dem. 43-4. 14  Richardson 1974: 164 (with references). 15  Barber 1991: 358-82, Tuck 2006: 539-50, Tuck 2009: 151-9. 16  Iliad 3.125-7. LIMC 7 (1994), s.v. Prokne et Philomela, p. 527-9 (E. Touloupa). See also Scheid and Svenbro 2001. 17  Barber 1992: 103-17 (with bibliography). 11 

Berlin, Antikensammlung F2290 (ARV2 462.48, 481, 1654, Paralipomena 377, Addenda2 244, BAPD 204730). 19  This is the subject of a book on which I am currently working. 20  Florence, Museo Archeologico Etrusco 4209 (ABV 76.1, 682, Paralipomena 29, Addenda2 21, BAPD 300000). 21  Shapiro 1989: 110. See also Papahatzis 1988. 18 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Attributed to Makron, Attic red-figure kylix, obverse with dancing maenads at an altar and cult statue of Dionysos, ca. 490-480 BCE. Berlin, Antikensammlung F2290.

Figure 4. Detail of Berlin, Antikensammlung F2290.


Anthony F. Mangieri – Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece

Figure 5. Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos, reverse with Zeus, Dionysos, and Amphitrite. vases (Figure 6).22 While the gods represented on the reverse of the vase and beneath the handles have their place at Eleusis, they also highlight the different realms of the universe over which they reign, another prominent theme in the cult myth of the Mysteries.

the reverse and under one handle of the Triptolemos skyphos both hold dolphins. The eagle is often an attribute of Zeus, and is thus associated with its soaring in the heavens (Zeus also is represented on the cup’s reverse). The winged horse and man also have to do with flight and the heavens. And the horses, felines, and running figures are earthbound and relate to the land. Vase-painters often use creatures as a shorthand to denote realms like land or sea. Red-figure vase-painters, for example, depict creatures in black against the reserved boulder representing part of the island of Kos with which Poseidon fights in gigantomachy scenes. A painter that recalls the Argos Painter depicts a wide array of life on the island, including a dolphin, scorpion, centipede, octopus, deer and snake (Figure 7).26 These creatures reference both the land and sea, fitting since Kos is an island. These symbols resonate in the scene as the god of the Sea fights a child of Earth, a cosmic battle that served to inscribe the Greek’s world view about the order of the realms of the universe. Scholars have explored how the different realms of the universe and cosmic order play a central role in the narrative and themes of the Demeter and Persephone story as told in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter.27 In particular, Jenny Clay and Helene Foley have analyzed how the realms of the cosmos and the hierarchy of gods and mortals are renegotiated in the Hymn to Demeter.28 By sharing her Mysteries with humankind Demeter offers mortals a better lot in the afterlife, thereby lessening the boundaries between humans and gods and bringing together

Creating a Visual Cosmology Besides telling the cult myth of the Eleusinian Mysteries, Makron uses the imagery of Demeter’s himation to create a visual cosmology. The ancient Greeks thought of the world as divided into three realms or spheres, well-known from passages of the Iliad and Theogony.23 The ekphrasis of Achilles’ shield in the Iliad, for instance, describes Hephaistos forging ‘the earth upon it, and the sky, and the seas’s water.’24 The poet (or poets) of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter also makes repeated reference to these three realms or spheres. The flower that Hades uses to ensnare Persephone, for instance, smelled so delicious, that ‘the whole vast heaven above / and the whole earth laughed, and the salty swell of the sea.’25 Likewise, Makron uses the running figures and creatures, dolphins, and eagles on Demeter’s cloak as signs for ‘Land/ Earth,’ ‘Sea,’ and ‘Air/Heaven.’ Makron uses symbols, ideograms, to create a visual, allegorical representation of the universe. He gives us a cosmology in images that rivals those recorded in the Hesiodic and Homeric poems. Dolphins or fish are common symbols of the sea. Amphitrite and Poseidon on

Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum 688 (ARV2 255.2, Addenda2 203, BAPD 202916). 27  Rudhardt 1978, Segal 1981: 113, Alderink 1982, Clay 1989, Richardson 2011: 53-4. 28  Clay 1989: 8-11, Foley 1999: 35. The significance of Clay’s approach is discussed in Faulkner 2011: 19-20 and Richardson 2011: 54. 26 

Beazley 1945, Williams 1992, Stansbury-O’Donnell 2011: 96-8. 23  Iliad 15.189-92; Theogony, lines 104-13. 24  18.483. Translated by Lattimore 2011. 25  Lines 13-14. Other examples in the poem at lines 33-6, 38-9, 69-70, and 380-3. 22 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 6. The vases from the Brygos Tomb, Tomb II at Capua, reassembled.

Figure 7. Attributed to a painter that recalls the Argos Painter, Attic red-figure column-krater with Poseidon using the island of Kos to fight the giant Ephialtes, ca. 490-480 BCE. Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum 688.


Anthony F. Mangieri – Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece

the realms of the universe rather than separating them. With Demeter’s himation, Makron creates a visual cosmology that has meaning in the context of the Demeter and Persephone story.

within).’35 Besides Roman examples of illuminated images from Mithraea, Clinton also identifies a marble votive plaque found in the Telesterion at Eleusis that depicts the head of Demeter with rays emanating from it in red as supporting the type of illumination of holy things in the Mysteries.36 The ritual use of light in the Mysteries was a way of invoking divine revelation. In the Homeric Hymn to Demeter, light reveals the goddess’ divinity, as when Demeter reveals herself to Metaneira and the other women and ‘a light beamed far out from the goddess’s immortal skin.’37

Seeing the Mysteries and Modeling the Experience of Revelation While we can reconstruct various parts of the Eleusinian rituals from our sources, the most important parts of the Mysteries are still shrouded in secrecy. Most scholars agree that the Mysteries were not a secret shared with initiates or a doctrine to be learned, but something that required contemplation. Aristotle even wrote that the Eleusinian Mysteries were not something learned, but rather experienced.29 As Helene Foley articulates it, ‘the secret rites did not pass on any secret doctrine or world view or inculcate beliefs, but . . . its blessings came from experiencing and viewing signs, symbols, stories, or dramas and bonding with fellow initiates.’30 Robert Parker has already shown how the structure of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter itself models the different levels of revelation experienced by mystai and epoptai in echoing stages of initiation in the Mysteries.31 Our vase too enacts aspects of revelation and exegesis in a way that is in some respects well-suited for the visual aspects of the Mysteries. The most important part of the celebration of the Mysteries was the moment of revelation that took place inside the Telesterion, where initiates would see something. After the dramatic re-enactment of the ‘search’ for Kore, initiates were led in the dark night to the Telesterion where they saw Demeter and her daughter reunited.32 Then the doors of the initiation hall would be opened and initiates beheld a miraculous light, the ‘great light’ that Plutarch records flooding the night.33 As initiates anxiously, loudly, and enthusiastically entered the Telesterion, they would see the epoptai (previous initiates) standing on the steps that surrounded the perimeter of the room, which served as a place of witness, holding torches or the ‘special devices’ that created the famed light of Eleusis.34 At this point the mystai or initiates must have had their blindfolds removed as they were about to be shown images of some sort. Light would reveal these things, and the Hierophant would stand on a platform and reveal sacred objects to the initiates.

The importance of light and dark is a motif that Makron also exploits through the red and black, light and dark format of the vase he paints. Makron likes to play with light and dark effects, and his sensitivity to light adds to the experience of his vases. The Boston Helen skyphos epitomizes the ‘light effect’ Makron often favors through the use of spread drapery that minimizes the black background and asserts the reserved color of the clay, giving the vase a lighter appearance (Figure 8).38 On this vase he also juxtaposes on one side the light colored Aeneas with the darker look of the angry Menelaos. The black figured motifs on Demeter’s himation similarly play with effects of light and dark, and Makron’s decoration may have evoked for some viewers the dark cloak that Demeter puts on just before searching for Persephone in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. The epithet ‘dark-robed’ or ‘of the dark robe’ appears numerous times in the Homeric Hymn to refer to the goddess, and she continues to wear this dark robe even after she reunites with Persephone.39 At the same time, the figures silhouetted in black against the natural, light color of the clay makes them look as if they are illuminated. Just as red rays emanate from Demeter’s head on the votive plaque from Eleusis, so too might one see the red background of Demeter’s garment as light emanating from the images themselves. The dark images against the light background might have reminded initiates of how they would have seen sacred objects revealed to them by the Hierophant. With a ring of torchlight held by epoptai surrounding the inside of the Telesterion, the mystai would have been shown objects held up against a glorious blaze of light. If these images were illuminated from below or behind, they also would have appeared silhouetted against the blazing fire behind, an effect not so different from what we see on our vase. The images Makron depicts on Demeter’s himation are not the images shown during the Mysteries, but the appearance of dark and light enacts the visual experience of revelation, a visual trigger of not what initiates saw, but how it appeared to their senses. Makron does not divulge the Mysteries, but he models a religious experience. It is a visual evocation of what would have been the most important religious experience of one’s life—images shown against the huge or great fire. Makron further models the importance of seeing

What did they see? Reviewing the evidence, Kevin Clinton concludes, ‘it seems virtually certain that such extraordinary illuminated images were a feature of the rite.’ Drawing also on Plato’s description of images with ‘beauty blazing out’ in the Phaedrus, Clinton explains that ‘the images in the Mysteries are illuminated from within (or at least from close up, so as to give an impression of illumination from Fr. 15=Synesius Dion 10 p.48a. See Richardson 1974: 314, Parker 2005: 353. 30  Foley 1999: 70. See also Boyancé 1962, Bérard 2008. 31  Parker 1991: 12-3. 32  My description of the reenactment of events follows much as outlined by Clinton 1992: 87-9 and Clinton 2004. 33  De prof. virt. 81D-E. 34  We cannot know exactly the source of the famed fire and light of Eleusis. Clinton 2004: 95-6 discusses the different kinds of light and speaks of ‘special devices.’ Parker 2005: 353 notes that ‘it would be an exhausting and perhaps a vain task to attempt to sort them into different classes—torches outside the telesterion, torches inside the telesterion, fire inside the telesterion, and so on.’ 29 

Clinton 2004: 98 and more fully in 97-100; Phaedrus 249-250c, trans. Rowe 1986. In seeing illuminated statues as the main revelation, Clinton follows earlier scholars like Lobeck 1829, Rohde 1898, Boyancé 1937, Boyancé 1962 (discussed in Clinton 2004: 100 note 48). 36  Athens, National Archaeological Museum 5256 (IG II2 4639, LIMC 4, s.v. Demeter no. 161). Clinton 2004: 98 and Clinton 2008: 110. 37  Line 278. Also at line 189. Discussed in Segal 1981: 126ff and 136-7. 38  Boston, Museum of Fine Arts 13.186 (ARV2 458.1, 1654, 481, Paralipomena 377, Addenda2 243, BAPD 204681). See also Beazley 1955: 85, Robertson 1992: 105. 39  Lines 182, 319, 360, 374, 443. 35 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 8. Signed by Makron, Attic red-figure skyphos with the abduction of Helen, c. 490-480 BCE. Boston, Museum of Fine Arts 13.186. in the Mysteries by using the seated figures of Eumolpos, the chief priest who shows things to initiates during the secret rituals, and Poseidon beneath the handles to frame the scene on the front (Figure 9). Both look over their shoulders to watch as Demeter shares her gifts, further underscoring the importance of vision, seeing, and witnessing that are at the heart of the Mysteries.

Evoking the experience of revelation through the motifs on Demeter’s garment also enables Makron to visualize the goddess’ epiphany in the Mysteries. The varied forms that Greek gods can take in art and literature requires that for viewers or readers to experience a god’s epiphany that they engage in what Verity Platt describes as a ‘complex semiological process’ that involves a ‘challenging act of simultaneous recognition and interpretation.’42 Through the imagery of Demeter’s garment, Makron explores this ontological dimension to epiphany that allows a mortal to see a divine manifestation. Makron requires viewers to look closely at Demeter’s garment, as recognition and interpretation of specific images then activate their knowledge and understanding of the cult myth and reveal her divinity.

The central placement of Dionysos on the cup’s reverse, also plays a role in our interpretation (Figure 5). Dionysos’ prominence on this vase is easiest to explain because he was an important deity at Eleusis who also had a cult and festivals in his honor. Some scholars even see him as the paredros or one enthroned beside Demeter.40 Elsewhere I have argued that Makron depicts Dionysos as an initiate at Eleusis on this vase because of iconographic features like the god’s truncated thyrsos, dress, associations with Triptolemos, and the absence of his usual band of followers.41 This would make Makron’s skyphos the earliest representation of Dionysos as an Eleusinian initiate in Greek art. Moreover, the figure of the god then mediates the initiatory experience of the Mysteries for the vase’s beholder.

While one might argue that Makron’s decoration of Demeter’s garment on the Triptolemos skyphos is in some respects no different from his decoration of other vases, it is the Eleusinian context that encourages us to see more. Only after the experience of initiation can one see Demeter’s himation in a new way. This idea of seeing something new in the familiar may be part of the great Mystery. Robert Parker has asked, ‘Would the secret of Eleusis, could we know it, come as a surprise?’43 If the Hierophant showed an ear of corn or a statue of some kind, such things were not esoteric, but it

On Dionysos, see LIMC 3 (1986), s.v. Dionysos, p. 414-514 (C. Gasparri); represented with Eleusinian divinities, see LIMC 3, s.v. Dionysos cat. nos. 523-34 (p. 467-68); his connection to the Mysteries, see Metzger 1951: 250-2, Metzger 1995: 3-22; as separate from the Mysteries: Mylonas 1960, Mylonas 1961: 275-8, Clinton 1992: 123-5. 41  Mangieri 2016. 40 

42  43 


Platt 2011: 57-8. Parker 2005: 360.

Anthony F. Mangieri – Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece

Figure 9. Makron’s Triptolemos skyphos, detail showing Eumolpos beneath the cup’s handle. would be within the context of the ritual that they took on new meaning.44 Maybe this too is what Makron does with the decoration of Demeter’s garment. For those who have not experienced initiation, it is just black-figure decoration on a red-figure vase. But for those who have seen things by the fires of Eleusis, the context encourages them to see more in its imagery, to think back to their initiations, and to contemplate the Mysteries of Demeter. In effect, Makron transforms the skyphos itself because it is more than just a cup—it becomes a devotional object.

vase’s role in a burial may have served as a kind of assurance that the deceased would enjoy the benefits of the Mysteries in the afterlife as promised, or it may have been a status symbol for an important person in the cult. We might even see the viewer’s experience of Makron’s vase as modeling the different stages of initiation in the Mysteries themselves.46 Holding the vase and looking at the main Triptolemos picture for the first time, the viewer recalls the story and may think about the significance of Triptolemos’ mission, a popular subject at this time. This may be likened to the first stage of initiation, that of myesis. When one looks at this scene frontally, however, the figure of Demeter is not fully visible because of the vase’s curvature. When we turn the vase in our hands, we see Demeter and her complex garment is revealed to us. A higher order rumination is required to understand its imagery, which we might see as like the epopteia, the next level of initiation, which arguably required greater insight. So too can one appreciate Makron’s vase on different levels. The narrative of the Triptolemos scene is straightforward and paralleled on many other vases. But the creation of Demeter’s himation requires the viewer to bring a more learned knowledge of the Eleusinian cult myth to fully

Vases like Makron’s and others that deal with Eleusinian and cultic scenes may have been souvenirs for those initiated in the Mysteries and there could have been a market for vases that alluded to secret aspects of the cult for those initiated. Such vases would have reminded an owner about one of the most important experiences of his or her life, cherished objects that could be buried with a person.45 In this way, the In reference to Hippolytos’ claim that corn was the revelation to initiates, Sourvinou-Inwood 2003: 36 argues, ‘if the ear of corn had been perceived to be a mysterion, it was a mysterion in context; it was not the existence of the ear of corn that was the mystery—how could it be? It was its appearance at a particular place and time, as part of a particular ritual, ascribed a particular meaning and significance by the context.’ 45  Clinton 1992: 91; Parker 2005: 334 notes fairly that ‘we cannot confidently explain them [vases with Eleusinian subjects] as 44 

‘advertisements’ or ‘souvenirs.’’ 46  On the different stages of initiation, see Clinton 2003.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

interpret it. This personal exchange with the vase and the possibility of having a metaphorical epopteia in interpreting Makron’s imagery underscores ways in which the vasepainter communicates a religious profundity through his art.

Burkert, W. 1987. Ancient Mystery Cults. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Cifarelli, M., and L. Gawlinski (ed). 2017. What Shall I Say of Clothes? Theoretical and Methodological Approaches to the Study of Dress in Antiquity. Boston: Archaeological Institute of America. Clay, J.S. 1989. The Politics of Olympus: Form and Meaning in the Major Homeric Hymns. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Clinton, K. 1986. The Author of the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. In OpAth 16: 43-9. Clinton, K. 1992. Myth and Cult: The Iconography of the Eleusinian Mysteries. The Martin P. Nilsson lectures on Greek religion, delivered 19-21 November 1990 at the Swedish Institute at Athens. Skrifter Utgivna av Svenska Institutet i Athen. Stockholm: Svenska institutet i Athen. Clinton, K. 2003. Stages of Initiation in the Eleusinian and Samothracian Mysteries. In M.B. Cosmopoulos (ed.) Greek Mysteries: The Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults: 50-78. New York: Routledge. Clinton, K. 2004. Epiphany in the Eleusinian Mysteries. In Illinois Classical Studies 29: 85-109. Clinton, K. 2008. Eleusis. The Inscriptions on Stone. Documents of the Sanctuary of the Two Goddesses and Public Documents of the Deme. Volume II. The Archaeological Society at Athens Library No. 259. Athens: The Archaeological Society at Athens. Cosmopoulos, M.B. 2015. Bronze Age Eleusis and the Origins of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Fanfani, G., M. Harlow, and M.-L. Nosch. 2016. Spinning Fates and the Song of the Loom: The Use of Textiles, Clothing and Cloth Production as Metaphor, Symbol and Narrative Device in Greek and Latin Literature. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Faulkner, A. 2011. Introduction: Modern Scholarship on the Homeric Hymns: Foundational Issues. In A. Faulkner (ed.) The Homeric Hymns: Interpretive Essays: 1-25. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Foley, H.P. 1999. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter: Translation, Commentary, and Interpretive Essays. Mythos Series. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Kunisch, N. 1997. Makron. Mainz am Rhein: Philipp von Zabern. Lattimore, R., trans. 2011. The Iliad of Homer. Chicago: University of Chicago Press. Lee, M.M. 2015. Bodies, Dress, and Identity in Ancient Greece. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Lobeck, C.A. 1829. Aglaophamus sive de theologiae mysticae Graecorum causis. Königsberg: Bornträger. Mangieri, A.F. 2016. God as Cult Initiate: Dionysos and the Eleusinian Mysteries in Greek Vase-Painting. In Art Inquiries 17: 42-56. Metzger, H. 1951. Les représentations dans la céramique attique du IVe siècle. BEFAR 172. Paris: E. de Boccard. Metzger, H. 1995. Le Dionysos des images éleusiniennes du IVe siècle. In RA: 3-22. Mylonas, G. E. 1961. Eleusis and the Eleusinian Mysteries. Princeton. Mylonas, G. E. 1960. Eλευσὶς καὶ Διόνυσος. In ArchEph 99: 68118. Papahatzis, N. 1988. H Θεὰ Δήμητρα ‘σύνναος’ τοῦ Ποσειδώνα. In ArchEph 127: 11-14. Parker, R. 1991. The Hymn to Demeter and the Homeric Hymns. In GaR 38: 1-17.

Makron’s garment itself becomes the ‘mystery’ to be puzzled over, contemplated, and understood, just as one reading the Homeric Hymn to Demeter may have had a similar experience.47 The imagery of Demeter’s himation offers visual prompts that Makron uses to lead the viewer through layers of stories and beliefs, and associations and evocations that gloss the cult myth and ritual of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Makron’s vase offers a new perspective on the Eleusinian Mysteries because as an artist he was able to do something that writers could not: he could ‘show’ or reveal images to the viewer, highlighting the important visual aspects of the Mysteries. The viewer’s experience of Makron’s vase—the act of looking at the imagery of Demeter’s garment, trying to understand the motifs, appreciating the vase’s iconographic program, and relating it to their own cultic experiences—could prompt religious reflection and serve as a conduit for the ritual contemplation of imagery that was at the heart of the Eleusinian Mysteries. Bibliography Alderink, L.J. 1982. Mythological and Cosmological Structure in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter. In Numen 29: 1-16. Barber, E.J.W. 1991. Prehistoric Textiles: The Development of Cloth in the Neolithic and Bronze Ages with Special Reference to the Aegean. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Barber, E.J.W. 1992. The Peplos of Athena. In J. Neils (ed.) Goddess and Polis: The Panathenaic Festival in Ancient Athens: 103-17. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Barthes, R. 1967 (1983). The Fashion System. Translated by M. Ward and R. Howard. Reprint, New York: Hill and Wang. Beazley, J.D. 1918. Attic Red-figured Vases in American Museums. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Beazley, J.D. 1945. The Brygos Tomb at Capua. AJA 49: 153-8. Beazley, J.D. 1955 (published 1989). Makron. Lecture delivered in Cambridge, August 1955, and in Basle, November 1956. In D.C. Kurtz (ed.) Greek Vases: Lectures by J.D. Beazley: 84-97. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Bérard, C. 2008. Eleusis: Contempler les mystères. In S. Estienne et al. (ed.) Image et religion dans l’antiquité grécoromaine. Actes du Colloque de Rome, 11-13 décembre 2003: 8593. Naples: Centre Jean Bérard. Bowden, H. 2010. Mystery Cults of the Ancient World. Princeton: Princeton University Press. Boyancé, P. 1937. Le culte des Muses chez les philosophes grecs. Paris: E. de Boccard. Boyancé, P. 1962. Sur les mystères d’Éleusis. RÉG 75: 460-82. Bremmer, J.N. 2014. Initiation into the Mysteries of the Ancient World. Berlin: De Gruyter. Brøns, C. 2017. Gods and Garments: Textiles in Greek Sanctuaries in the 7th to the 1st Centuries BC. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Burkert, W. 1985. Greek Religion. Translated by J. Raffan. Cambridge: Harvard University Press.

Parker 1991: 11 writes, ‘The attentive reader of a poem such as this [Homeric Hymn to Demeter] quickly realizes that he is being led through a world of mysteries. . . .’ 47 


Anthony F. Mangieri – Makron’s Eleusinian Mysteries: Vase-Painting, Myth, and Dress in Late Archaic Greece

Parker, R. 2005. Polytheism and Society at Athens. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Reprint, 2009. Platt, V. 2011. Facing the Gods: Epiphany and Representation in Graeco-Roman Art, Literature and Religion. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Richardson, N. 1974. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Richardson, N. 2011. The Homeric Hymn to Demeter: Some Central Questions Revisited. In A. Faulkner (ed.) The Homeric Hymns: Interpretive Essays: 44-58. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Robertson, M. 1992. The Art of Vase-Painting in Classical Athens. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Rohde, E. 1898. Psyche: Seelencult und Unsterblichkeitsglaube der Griechen. Leipzig: Mohr. Rudhardt, J. 1978. Concerning The Homeric Hymn to Demeter. Translated by L. Lorch and H.P. Foley. In Foley 1999: 198-211. Scheid, J., and J. Svenbro. 2001. The Craft of Zeus: Myths of Weaving and Fabric. Translated by C. Volk. Cambridge: Harvard University Press. Segal, C. 1981. Orality, Repetition and Formulaic Artistry in the Homeric ‘Hymn to Demeter.’ In C. Brillante, M. Cantilena, and C.O. Pavese (ed.) I Poemi Epici Rapsodici Non Omerici e la Tradizione Orale. Atti del Convegno di Venezia 28-30 settembre 1977: 107-62. Padua: Editrice Antenore. Shapiro, H.A. 1989. Art and Cult Under the Tyrants in Athens. Mainz am Rhein: P. von Zabern. Shapiro, H.A. 2013. The Origins of Greek Geographical Personifications. In D. Boschung, T. Greub, and J. Hammerstaedt (ed.) Geographische Kenntnisse und ihre Konkreten Ausformungen: 90-118. Munich: Wilhelm Fink. Simon, E. 1997. Eleusis in Athenian Vase-painting: New Literature and Some Suggestions. In J.H. Oakley, W.D.E. Coulson, and O. Palagia (ed.) Athenian Potters and Painters. The Conference Proceedings: 97-108. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 2003. Festival and Mysteries: Aspects of the Eleusinian Cult. In M.B. Cosmopoulos (ed.) Greek Mysteries: The Archaeology and Ritual of Ancient Greek Secret Cults: 25-49. New York: Routledge.

Stansbury-O’Donnell, M.D. 2011. Looking at Greek Art. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Tuck, A.S. 2006. Singing the Rug: Patterned Textiles and the Origins of Indo-European Metrical Poetry. In AJA 110: 539-50. Tuck, A.S. 2009. Stories at the Loom: Patterned Textiles and the Recitation of Myth in Euripides. In Arethusa 42: 151-9. Vickers, M. 1999. Images on Textiles: The Weave of Fifth-Century Athenian Art and Society. Xenia. Konstanz: UVK. von Bothmer, D. 1982. Notes on Makron. In D. Kurtz and B. Sparkes (ed.) The Eye of Greece: Studies in the Art of Athens: 29-52. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Williams, D. 1992. The Brygos Tomb Reassembled and 19thCentury Commerce in Capuan Antiquities. In AJA 96: 617-36. Figure credits Figure 1. Credit: © The Trustees of the British Museum. Figure 2. Credit: Artwork in the public domain; photograph from Adolf Furtwängler and Karl Reichhold, Griechische Vasenmalerei: Auswahl hervorragender Vasenbilder, vol. 3 [Munich: F. Bruckmann, 1932], pl. 161. Photo edited by Matthew Solomon. Figure 3. Credit: bpk Bildagentur / Berlin, Antikensammlung / Johannes Laurentius / Art Resource, NY. Figure 4. Credit: bpk Bildagentur / Berlin, Antikensammlung / Johannes Laurentius / Art Resource, NY. Figure 5. Credit: © The Trustees of the British Museum. Figure 6. Credit: © The Trustees of the British Museum. Figure 7. Credit: Erich Lessing / Art Resource, NY. Figure 8. Credit: Photograph © 2018 Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Painter: Makron; Potter: Hieron. Drinking cup (skyphos) with the departure and recovery of Helen. Greek, Late Archaic period, about 490-480 BCE. Place of manufacture: Greece, Attica, Athens. Ceramic, red-figure. Height: 8 7/16 in. (21.5 cm.); diameter: 15 3/8 in. (39 cm.); diameter of mouth: 10 15/16 in. (27.8 cm.). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. Francis Bartlett Donation of 1912. 13.186. Figure 9. Credit: © The Trustees of the British Museum.


Timagoras: An Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered1 Christine Walter2 incomplete and reconstructed from several fragments, it is recorded under the number CP 10655. As the prefix of this number indicates, it too is from the former Campana collection. The potter of this third hydria is anonymous; the vase is not signed.

This1paper2presents the first phase of a study on the body of work by the potter Timagoras, active in Athens in the second half of the 6th century BC. The study is part of a research programme of the ARSCAN laboratory of Paris-Nanterre University, to promote the study of potters active in Athens and Attica from the 6th to the 4th centuries BC.

The Taleides Painter, to whom about 50 vases are attributed,9 worked with at least two or three potters throughout his career:

The Department of Greek, Etruscan and Roman Antiquities of the Louvre in Paris has two black-figure hydriai3 signed by Timagoras (figures 1 and 2). They are registered under the numbers F 384 and F 395 and also have an older ‘CP’ number (respectively Cp 134 and Cp 131), which indicates they once belonged to the former Campana collection.

• Timagoras, whose signature appears on the two hydriai of the Louvre. • Amasis, a famous potter, whose signature appears on several works.10 The Painter seems to have decorated a lekythos for him, acquired by the Getty museum in 1976.11 According to some, he also signed works on behalf of the potter under the foot,12 although this theory is not accepted by everyone.13 • Lastly, Taleides, from whom the painter takes his name, but who may also be one and the same with the painter.14 Most of the vases, three oinochoai, a lekythos, one loutrophoros and a pyxis are signed by

To my knowledge, these two vases are the only known published works to date recorded in the potter’s body of work.6 John Beazley attributed the decoration of the two hydriai to the Taleides Painter.7 A third hydria, also in the Louvre’s collection, was attributed to the Taleides Painter by François Villard8 (figure 3). Rather

this potter or potter/painter.

The author would like to thank F. Gaultier, Director of the Département des Antiquités grecques, étrusques et romaines in the Louvre Museum and A. Coulié, Curator of the Greek Pottery collection, for giving her permission to study and publish the three Hydriai presented in this paper. 2  Paris, Musée du Louvre. 3  About the shape and use of the hydria, see Fölzer 1906 ; Richter& Milne 1935:11-12 ; Diehl 1964:228-231 ; Veach Noble 1988: chapter 14 (Hydria). 4  Cataloghi [1857 or 1858]:serie IV-VII, n° 14; Gerhard 1859:103, n° 28; De Witte 1865:71; Benndorf 1889: pl. V, 3; Pottier 1901:92-93; Fölzer 1906:80, note 2 and 81, n° 122; Luce 1922:187, n°44; Hoppin 1924:358359; Pottier 1928:730-731; Pottier 1929:42-43, pl. 63, n° 1-4 (III H e); Bloesch 1951:30, n° 9; Beazley1954:188; Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174, n° 7; Beazley 1971:72, n°7 ; Brommer 1973:146, n° 6; Carpenter 1989:49, 174.7; Immerwahr 1990:53, note 52, n° 263; Moore 2001: 23, fig. 13; Heesen 2011:96, note 571. 5  Cataloghi [1857 or 1858]:serie IV-VII, n° 1157; Benndorf 1889: pl. V,4; Pottier 1901:92; Fölzer 1906:80, note 2 and 81; Morin 1911:201, fig. 233, n°2, 203, 205, 247, n°7; Hoppin 1924:360-361; Pottier 1928:730731; Pottier 1929:43, pl. 63, n° 5-6, pl. 64, n° 1-3 (III H e); Beazley 1931-1932:22; Beazley1954:188; Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174, n°5; Diehl 1964:229, pl. 35,1; Bothmer 1966:202,206, fig. 6; Beazley 1971:72, n° 5; Colafranceschi Cecchetti 1972:28, pl. II, n°146; Moore 1972:68, n°A426,p. 293; Brommer 1973:233, n° 39; Johnston 1979:182, n° 60; Immerwahr 1990:53, note 52, n° 264; Manakidou 1994:251, n°14; Heesen 2011:96, note 571. 6  According to Ernst Pfuhl (Pfuhl 1924:273), an Attic sherd from the Acropolis presented the inscription Τιμαγόρα έποίσεν. But no such sherd could be identified in the photographic Archive of the DAIAthens. He attributed then wrongly an hydria held in Madrid to the potter, now given to the Affecter (Pfuhl 1924:272- 273; Melida 1930:4, pl. 8, n°1, 5, pl. 9 (III H e). About Timagoras as potter, see Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174, n°5 and 7; Beazley 1971:73-74; Heesen 2011:96; Beazley 1931-1932:22. 7  Beazley 1931-1932:22. See also Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174.5 and 174.7; Beazley 1971:72.5 and 72.7; Carpenter 1989:49, 174.7. 8  About this painter, see Beazley 1954:188; Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174, n° 6; Beazley 1971:72, n° 6; Brommer 1973:147, n° 11, 233, 1 

The situation is therefore rather complex. In this paper, I focus on the work of the potter Timagoras and his relationship with his painter, whether he was only a painter or both painter and potter.

n° 41; Carpenter 1989:49, 174, n° 693. 9  Hydriai, amphorae (type B), lekythoi (shouldered), oinochoai (shape I and III), one olpe, one amphoriskos, two Siana cups, six lipcups, two Little Masters cups of not identified Class, one loutrophoros, two pyxis and a lid. See Beazley 1932:171, 193, 197-199 and pl. VII; Haspels 1936:37-38, pl. 13, n° 1 a-d; Bothmer& Milne 1947:226; Beazley 1954:187-188; Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174-177; Burn & Glynn 1982:22; Carpenter 1989:49-50; Bothmer 1985:229; Moore & Pease Philippides 1986:42,44, note 11. 10  Twelve signed vases are listed in Moore & Pease Philippides 1986:44, note 11. See also Bothmer 1985. 11  Frel, J. 1983, p. 35. Lekythos fully published by Legakis, B. 1983, p. 73-76, pl. 19-20. See also Amasis 1985, p. 229. 12  Frel 1996:69. 13  Hypothesis refuted by P. Heesen (Heesen 2011:96, note 572) and by H. Mommsen (Mommsen 1997:17-18). 14  Boardman 1978:14, note 16. About Taleides, see Beazley 1932:171, 193, 194 note 36, 195, 197-199 and pl. VII; Bothmer & Milne 1947:221228; Beazley 1954:188; Beazley 1956 (reissued 1978):174.7 and 688; Beazley 1971:72-73; Moore & Pease Philippides 1986:42.


Christine Walter – Timagoras: An Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered

Figure 1. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 38. © Christine Walter The preferred themes of the Taleides Painter are taken from the usual repertoire in Athens in the third quarter of the 6th century. He has a predilection for mythological subjects such as: Heracles and Triton; Heracles and Kyknos; Heracles and the Nemean lion; Theseus and the Minotaur; the Centauromachy; the Assembly of the Gods; Dionysus and his thiasus. But also scenes of daily life with warrior arms; a warrior’s departure by chariot or on horseback; battles between hoplites; scenes of homage to a male elder seated on a diphros; athletes (boxers, runners, discus-throwers); amorous scenes; a funerary scene (lamentations); and in some more miniature decorations, animal friezes in the style of the ‘Little Masters’.

CP 10566 also has a scene with Heracles and Triton on its body (in reverse, figure 3), and the battle between Theseus and the Minotaur is shown on its shoulder. F 38 and F 39 are both signed in black paint on the body, to the left of the main scene from top to bottom, with the same signature: ‘ΤΙΜΑΓΟΡΑΕΠΟΙΕϟΕΝ› (Timagora made it) (figure 5, a and b). These two signatures, simply recorded in 1887 in Wilhelm Klein’s lists,15 sparked a debate in the late 19th and early 20th centuries over the sex of the potter, because of the unusual signature without a final sigma on the name of Timagora. Some scholars, such as Friedrich Hauser,16 went so far as to suggest that the potter was a woman17 who deliberately signed ‘Timagora’ instead of ‘Timagoras’. Others, such as Edmond Pottier, a curator at the Louvre, found it hard to believe that a woman would benefit from the same advantages as a potter who owned his own workshop,18 and that the omission of the sigma was either deliberate or simply a spelling mistake. From 1894, Paul Kretschmer recorded a

The Louvre’s three Hydriai are in line with this iconography. They are decorated with two superimposed scenes, one on the shoulder and the other on the body. The shoulder of vase F 39 depicts the battle between Theseus and the Minotaur painted between two women and four young male nudes (figure 4). On the body, a farewell scene with a chariot, a woman and a young male nude is depicted between two vegetal motifs (figure 2).

Klein 1887:50-51. Hauser 1895:157, note 7. 17  Reported for example by Nicole 1916:384, n°51 and Hoppin 1924:358. 18  Pottier 1928:731 et Pottier 1912:460-466. 15  16 

The shoulder of vase F 38 depicts a scene of homage to a male elder seated on a diphros; Heracles and Triton appear on the body (figure 1).


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 39. © RMN-Grand Palais (musée du Louvre)/Hervé Lewandowski whole series of missing final sigmas in masculine names of the first declension,19 which could have settled the argument. His work was followed up in the 20th century, notably by John Beazley. Beazley noted in 1950 that the missing sigma concerned mainly names ending in ‘-agoras’, backing his claim with several known masculine examples.20 Since then it has been widely accepted that the potter of the two Louvre 19  20 

hydriai was a man; he has since been recorded and cited as ‘Timagoras’. Inscriptions with ‘kalos’  also appear on both of the Louvre hydriai, to the right of the main scene, written from top to bottom: CP 10655 reads: ‘ΤΙΟ[K]LΕΙΔΕϟKALOϟ› (figure 5 c). According to John Beazley, this refers to ‘Timokleides’ but here too a letter (the third) is missing: an ‘M’.

Kretschmer 1894:184-185. Beazley 1950:317.


Christine Walter – Timagoras: an Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered

hydriai and the Taleides vases, (Timokleides becomes Tiokleides, for example).24 All three hydriai were purchased in 1861 along with a part of the Campana collection and registred in the Louvre Museum in 1863. Two of them are mentioned in the famous Cataloghi del Museo Campana,  even though they were still in Rome around 1857-1858. F 38 and F 39 were on display at the Monte di Piétà, which Campana ran. More specifically, F 38 was in Room A and F 39 in Room D. It is worth noting that the two vases, of the same shape and signed by the same potter, were not displayed together. Depending on the room, works were displayed according to provenance, style, iconography or other. The introductory chapter to Room A in the Cataloghi states that all the vases came from Agylla (or Cerveteri). Unfortunately, researches on other Louvre vases showed that indications of provenance in the Cataloghi are not always reliable, even Figure 3. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° CP 10655 © Christine Walter if Cerveteri is considered the predominant source for Campana vases. Indeed, the marquis excavated there for On F 38, the following inscription appears backwards: several years. But some works were purchased from antique ‘AΝΔΟΚΙΔΕϟKA[L]OϟΔOKEI’21 and, to the bottom right, dealers or other merchants when excavations failed to yield ‘TIMA[Γ]OΡAI’ (‘Andokides is beautiful to Timagoras’) (figure complete series.25 To be safe, ‘Etruria’ should be used to speak 5 d). of the provenance of the hydriai. These inscriptions (signatures and ‘kalos’) all seem to be The third hydria – CP 10566 – is not mentioned in the written by the same hand. There are no spaces between the Cataloghi. It may have been kept in storage at the Villa words, except for ‘Timagorai’ which is separated from the rest Campana in Laterano, according to a copy of the Cataloghi due to a lack of space. ‘Epoiesen’ is used for both signatures. called Consegna Campana,26 which mentions several broken vases and fragments stored there. According to Jiří Frel, the Timagoras signatures are by the hand of the Taleides Painter.22 This is in line with Henry Two of the vases are marked with graffiti that is rather Immerwahr’s broader idea, according to which ‘epoiesen’ common in Etruria. On F 39, ‘TE’ is etched along with a sort of signatures painted in figurative scenes next to other star under the foot.27 On CP 10655, ‘HE’ is etched in the black inscriptions are the work of painters.23 Indeed, the inscriptions paint of the lip.28 of the Timagoras hydriai seem to me very similar to the Taleides signature, for example, on the fragmentary oinochoe from Boston’s MFA 10.210, but also on some of his cups in 24  See also Wright 1896:92-93 (‘ an accented syllabe appears to have the style of the Little Masters. We see the same irregular vanished ‘). On the not Attic origin of Taleides, see Kretschmer 1894:74. flow of letters, the same handwriting, and the same overall About the shift from the long close e toward i that may reflects noneffect. And there are missing letters both on the Timagoras Athenian habits of speech, see Bothmer & Milne 1947:227. Pieter Heesen remarks also some incorrect worddivider (Heesen 2011:97). 25  See Sarti 2001:66. 26  In the German Archaeological Institute’s Library in Rome. 27  Johnston 1979:182, n° 60. 28  Johnston 1979:73, type 10 A, n°1 ; 177, Sl 1, n° 1. Johnston 2006:48, type 10A, n°1 ; 177, SL1, n° 1. According to specialists, it is difficult to interpret ‘HE’, in particular because of the large number of names

Klein 1898:40. Frel 1996:70, note 7. 23  Immerwahr 1984:341. 21  22 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 4. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 39, detail of the shoulder. © RMN-Grand Palais (musée du Louvre)/Hervé Lewandowski.

Figure 5. Louvre Museum, Hydriai n° F 38 and F 39, detail of signatures and ‘kalos’ inscriptions. © Christine Walter


Christine Walter – Timagoras: an Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered

and it may have been deemed unwise to present the two vases next to each other. CP 10655 also underwent some transformations, but more with a view to completing it. These modifications do not date to the time of Campana but to the years 1983-1984, in the wake of François Villard and Dietrich von Bothmer, who did extensive reconstruction work on black-figure vases at the Louvre. At that time, three fragments were added to the hydria: two in the lower part of the body, beneath the main scene, and the other (a part of the monster’s tail) in the reconstructed portion to the right. Hydriai, vases used to carry water for the living or the dead, have several typological variants.

Figure 6. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 39. © Christine Walter

The three Louvre hydriai are of the shouldered  type,33 with a shoulder that detaches itself from the body of the vase. This type of vase appeared in the second quarter of the 6th century and developed in parallel with the round-bodied type, which is slightly older and was popular between 580 and 550.34 It is not known which potter invented the shouldered type, but this type of vase was already being decorated by Kleitias and Lydos between 570 and 550.35 The shouldered vase was particularly popular after 540 and until the early 5th century.

Let’s take a look at the work of Timagoras, his ‘know-how’:

F 39 is in a perfect state of conservation and fully intact.29 The only defects, from the firing process, are found at the back, perhaps due to poor air circulation in the kiln (figure 6). The vase is painted in some areas in an olive colour.

F 39 is rather massive in profile (figure 8):36 the body is wide and still very bulging, the neck is short, handles thick, and it has an echinus foot. The transition between the shoulder and body is smooth (that is, not yet marked by a ridge). It is the decoration of the painter - a thin black transition line - that visually distinguishes the two zones. The lip is articulated and ends in a ring.

Several years ago, F 38 could also be described as being in good condition30 (figure 7). But necessary consolidation work revealed an invasive restoration that probably dates to the time of the marquis Campana. It is known that restorers did not hesitate to fill in the missing parts of vases with fragments from other vases, and that they used glue, plaster and paint liberally to mask fractures.31 The neck and lip of F 38, which are not original, were dismantled in 1977. Indeed, in comparison with F 39, one easily-visible detail cast doubt on the authenticity of this neck and lip: it is 3 cm smaller in diameter.32 In order to be able to insert the neck and lip into the overly-large orifice of the original vase, the Campana restorers added a ring in relief to close the gap. The hydria was therefore displayed in Campana’s day as an intact work,

F 38 has a very similar shape with the exception of the shoulder, which is more oblique (figure 9).37 The foot is slightly higher and there is a hole under it. Could CP 10655 also be the work of Timagoras?

On the hydria and its development, see also Fölzer 1906 and Diehl 1964. 34  Moore 2010:26-27. 35  For example, Louvre F 31 (Lydos). 36  Height (total with vertical handle) : 43,3 cm ; Diameter body (max) : 34,8 cm ; Width with the horizontal handles : 43,6 cm ; Diameter foot (max) : 15,5cm. 37  Preserved Height : 32,4 cm ; Diameter body (max) : 34 cm ; Width formerly with the two horizontal handles : 45 cm ; Diameter foot (max) : 15,4 cm. 33 

beginning with these two letters. 29  Beazley 1931-1932:22: ‘ the chariot hydria, which is in perfect preservation, is an excellent vase’. 30  De Witte 1865:71. 31  Bothmer 1977:213. 32  S 8003 (ex F 38) : Diameter 20,5 cm, Height 11,5 cm. F 39 : Diameter 23,5 cm, Height 9,8 cm.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Compared with F 39, the typological similarities are obvious: same proportions, same dimensions (figure 10).38 But the mouth is wider and treated differently, and the base of the neck is decorated with a very thin ring relief. Here too a hole was pierced into the bottom. These holes, measuring between 3 and 5 cm in diameter, on F 38 and CP 10655, are commonly found in other vases. Other cases have been reported, for example in two amphorae in Berlin, attributed to Lydos (F1685) and the Andokides Painter (F2159).39 Such holes are also more frequent at the bottom of loutrophoroi, funerary vases par excellence. They have long been interpreted as a way to allow libations, which were poured into vases placed on tombs, to directly reach the ground.40 Could these two hydriai have been used for libations in a necropolis in Etruria? While typology tends to classify hydria CP 10655 in the body of work of Timagoras, the question remains of some technical details, or characteristics of the potter, that have been observed on the three hydriai. Notably: • The turning technique : on F 39, there are fine striations on the outside that are visible in raking light. The same goes for the body of CP 10655 with the exception of the neck, to which less attention was paid. Several grooves are visible there. • The assembly of the different parts of the vases : great care was taken with the handles. On F 39, the marks of a scraping tool used to smooth the fitting is visible. • Less attention was paid to the upper part of the handle, where it is fixed to the lip: unevenly pressed material and the use of a scraper is visible on F 39 (figure 11). The same type of less careful attachment is also found on CP 10655. • Degree of finishes: the bodies are very smooth and wellCP 10655 : preserved Height (without foot) : 39,4 cm ; Diameter body (max) : 34 cm ; Width formerly with the two horizontal handles : 44 cm. 39  Bloesch 1951:30, note 4. 40  Veach Noble 1988:73.

Figure 7. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 38. © After BOTHMER, D. von 1966, p. 206


Figure 8. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 39, drawing of the profile. © Christine Walter


Christine Walter – Timagoras: an Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered

polished both inside and outside. For added parts such as the handles of F 39 for example, there are traces of a tool, as if the final touches were carried out quickly. The same goes for F 38. • The roundels of F 39 are concave and smooth; those of CP 10655 seem to be unfinished (figure 12). They were not polished and there are traces of scraping. • Lastly, the firing technique seems to be well-mastered for F 38 and CP 10655, but not for F 39, as mentioned earlier. The technical analysis of CP 10655 is similar in several ways to F 39 and F 38, although it seems less refined in some areas. Concerning the chronology of the three hydriai, Hansjörg Bloesch recalled in 1951 that it had been long recognised that the development of Greek vase shapes evolved regularly, ‘from heavy and plump forms to slender and more elegant ones’.41 If we follow this principle, our three hydriai would likely date to the early stages of the shouldered vase type, with a shoulder/body junction still rather curved and gentle. Many hydriai, for example from the workshop of Andokides, will later become more elongated, and the shoulder/body junction sharper, forming an angle. This angle appears around 530,42 which allows us to date the three Louvre hydriai to before that time.

Figure 9. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 38, drawing of the profile. © Christine Walter

F 39 is generally dated to around 540 BC; F 38 and CP 10655 to around 540/530 BC. According to John Beazley, CP 10655 was made between F 39 and F 38, because of the word ‘kalos’ Ti(m)okleides.43 F 38, which also bears a ‘kalos’ inscription relative to Andokides, is linked to this contemporary potter.44 Lastly, F 38 and F 39 seem to be the first hydriai known of the shouldered type to be signed.45 As for the Getty lekythos, signed with the name Amasis and dated to 540/530,46 F 38 and CP 10566 seem to be contemporary with it. At last, according to P. Heesen, the two hydriai signed by Timagoras Bloesch 1951:29. Moore & Pease Philippides 1986:37. Beazley 1954:188 44  Boardman 1978:14, note 16 ; Moore 2001:21. 45  Moore & Pease Philippides 1986:37, note 14. 46  Bothmer 1985:229. 41  42  43 

Figure 10. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° CP 10655, drawing of the profile. © Christine Walter


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


would date from the end of the career of the potter-painter Taleides, because of a production of cups (some signed by Taleides as Potter) which can be placed just before the middle of the century and 540/535.47

If we can consider CP 10655 to be the work of the potter Timagoras - known today to have only signed black-figured vases - the second stage of research on his body of work must now begin. Notably: • Studies on the typology and technique of Boston’s MFA 68.105 hydria, to verify if it too could be by his hand. Marion True, who published the vase in CVA Boston in 1978,48 had already likened this hydria, found in Etruria, to the Louvre’s F 39 hydria. • Studies on other vases decorated by the Taleides Painter to track other forms that may have been turned by Timagoras. Amphorae, for example. • Studies on the typology of other hydriai that seem very similar to those of the Louvre, such as the small hydriai by the Zurich Painter (a parallel already made by Pieter Heesen).49 • List of the technical and typological connections (if they exist) between the works of Timagoras and the works of two other potters: Amasis and Taleides. Bibliography Ahlberg-Cornell, G.1984. Herakles and the Sea-Monster in Attic Black-Figure Vase-Painting. In Acta Instituti Atheniensis Regni Sueciae. Göteborg: P. Åström. Bothmer 1985. The Amasis Painter and his World. Vase-Painting in Sixth-Century B.C. Athens. Malibu: The J.Paul Getty Museum. Beazley, J.D. 1931-1932. Mid-Sixth-Century Black-Figure. In The Annual of the British School at Athens 32: 1-22. Beazley, J.D. 1932. Little-Master Cups. In Journal of Hellenic Studies 52: 167-204. Beazley, J.D. 1950. Some inscriptions on Vases V. In American Journal of Archaeology 54: 310-322. Beazley, J.D. 1954. Some inscriptions on vases VI. In American Journal of Archaeology 58: 187-190. Beazley, J.D. 1956 (reissued 1978). Attic Black-Figure Vase-Painters. Oxford: Oxford University Press (reissued New York: Hacker Art Books). Beazley, J.D. 1971. Additions to Attic Black-Figure Vase-Painters and Attic Red-Figure Vase-Painters. Oxford: The Clarendon Press. Benndorf, O. 1889. Wiener Vorgeblaetter für archaeologische Uebungen. Wien: Alfred Hölder. Bloesch, H. 1951. Stout and Slender in the Late Archaic Period. In Journal of Hellenic Studies 71: 29-39. Boardman, J. 1978. Exekias. In American Journal of Archaeology 82: 11-25. Bothmer, D. von, M.J. Milne 1947. The Taleides Amphora. In The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin 5: 221-228.

Figure 11. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° F 39, detail of the vertical handle. © Christine Walter

Figure 12. Louvre Museum, Hydria n° CP 10655, detail of a roundel . © Christine Walter 47 

Heesen 2011:100.

48  49 


True, M. 1978, p. 15-16, pl. 75. Heesen, P. 2011, p. 96, note 571.

Christine Walter – Timagoras: an Athenian Potter to be Rediscovered

Bothmer, D. von 1966. Andokides the Potter and the Andokides Painter. In The Metropolitan Museum of Art Bulletin 24: 201212. Bothmer, D. von 1977. Les vases de la collection Campana. Un exemple de collaboration avec le Metropolitan Museum. In Revue du Louvre et des Musées de France 4 : 213-221. Brommer, F. 1973. Vasenlisten zur griechischen Heldensage. 3. Erweiterte Auflage. Marburg: N.G. Elwert Verlag. Burn, L., R. Glynn 1982. Beazley Addenda. Additional References to ABV, ARV² & Paralipomena. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Carpenter, T.H. 1989. Beazley Addenda. Additional References to ABV, ARV² & Paralipomena. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Cataloghi [1857 or 1858]. Cataloghi del Museo Campana. [Roma : publisher not identified]. Colafranceschi Cecchetti, P. 1972. Decorazione dei costumi nei vasi attici a figure nere. Seminario di Archeologia e Storia dell’Arte greco e romanadell’Università di Roma. Studi Miscellanei 19. De Witte, J.J.A.M. 1865. Etude sur les vases peints. Paris  : aux bureaux de la Gazette des beaux-arts. Diehl, E. 1964. Die Hydria. Formgeschichte und Verwendung im Kult des Altertums. Mainz am Rhein: P. von Zabern. Frel, J. 1983. Three Notes on Attic Black Figure in Malibu. In Greek Vases in The J .Paul Getty Museum. Occasional Papers on Antiquities 1: 35-38. Frel, J. 1996. Quelques inscriptions sur les vases attiques 540500. In Studia Minora Facultatis Philosophicae Universitatis Brunensis N.1: 65-73. Fölzer, E. 1906. Die Hydria: Ein Beitrag Zur Griechische Vasenkunde. Leipzig: E.A. Seemann. Gerhard, E. 1859. II. Griechische Vasenbilder. 1. Campana’s Vasensammlung. In Archäologischer Anzeiger, zur Archäologischen Zeitung, Jahrgang XVII, n° 127, 128, 129: 99110. Hauser, F. 1895. Vasenfunde in München. In Jahrbuch des Kaiserlich Deurschen Archäologischen Instituts X: 151-164. Haspels, C.H.E. 1936. Attic Black-Figured Lekythoi. Paris: De Boccard. Heesen, P. 2011. Athenian Little-Master Cups. Amsterdam: Chairbooks. Hoppin, J.C. 1924. A Handbook of Greek Black-figured Vases. Paris: Edouard Champion. Immerwahr, H.R. 1984. The signatures of Pamphaios. In American Journal of Archaeology 88: 341-352. Immerwahr, H.R. 1990. Attic Script. A Survey. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Johnston, A.W. 1979. Trademarks on Greek Vases. Warminster: Aris and Phillips. Johnston, A.W. 2006. Trademarks on Greek Vases Addenda. Oxford: Aris and Phillips. Klein, W. 1887. Die griechischen Vasen mit Meistersignaturen. Wien: Karl Gerold’s Sohn. Klein, W. 1898. Die griechischen Vasen mit Lieblingsinschriften. Leipzig:Verlag von Veit & Comp. Kretschmer, P. 1894. Die Griechischen Vaseninschriften, ihrer Sprache nach Untersucht. Gütersloh: C. Bertelsmann.

Legakis, B. 1983. A Lekythos Signed by Amasis. In Antike Kunst 26: 73-76, pl. 19-20. Luce, S.B. 1922. Heracles and the old Man of the Sea. In American Journal of Hellenic Studies 26: 174-192. Manakidou, E. 1994. Parastaseis Me Armata. Athens: Ekdoseis Kardamitsa. Melida, J. R. 1930. Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum Musée Archéologique National fascicule 1, Madrid fascicule 1. Madrid: Ruiz Hermanos. Mommsen, H. 1975. Der Affecter. Mainz: Philipp von Zabern. Mommsen, H. 1997. AΜΑΣΙΣ ΜEΠΟΙEΣEΝ: Beobachtungen zum Töpfer Amasis. In Athenian Potters and Painters. The conference Proceedings, edited by John H. Oakley, William D.E. Coulson and Olga Palagia, Oxbow Monograph 67: 1734. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Moore, M.B. 1972. Horses on Black-figured Greek Vases of the Archaic Period. New York: Ann Arbor. Moore, M.B., M. Z. Pease Philippides 1986. The Athenian Agora. Vol. XXIII. Attic Black-figured Pottery, Princeton: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Moore, M.B. 2001. Andokides and a Curious Attic Black-Figured Amphora. In Metropolitan Museum Journal 36: 15-41. Moore, M.B. 2010. Hephaïstos Goes Home: An Attic Blackfigured Column-krater in the Metropolitan Museum. In Metropolitan Museum Journal 45: 21-54. Morin, J.1911. Le dessin des animaux en Grèce d’après les vases peints. Paris : Henri Laurens. Nicole, G. 1916. Corpus des céramistes grecs. In Revue archéologique t. 4 : 373-412. Pfuhl, E. 1924. Meisterwerke griechischer Zeichnung und Malerei. München : F. Bruckmann. Pottier, E. 1901. Vases antiques du Louvre. Salles E-G. Le style archaïque à figures noires et à figures rouges. Ecole ionienne et attique. Paris: Hachette. Pottier, E. 1912. Etude de céramique grecques. In Gazette des Beaux-arts II : 453-463. Pottier, E. 1928. Musée national du Louvre. Catalogue des vases antiques de terre cuite. Troisième partie : l’Ecole Attique. Paris : Musées Nationaux (2e ed.). Pottier, E. 1929. Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum Musée du Louvre fascicule 6, France fascicule 9. Paris: Champion. Richter, G.M.A., E. Milne 1935. Shapes and Names of Athenian Vases. New-York, Metropolitan Museum: Plantin Press. Sarti, S. 2001. Giovanni Pietro Campana 1808-1880. The man and his collection. BAR International Series 971. Oxford: Archaeopress. Serbeti, E. 2012. Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum, Greece fascicule 12, Athens, National Museum fascicule 6. Athens: Academy of Athens. True, M. 1978. Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum, U.S.A. fascicule 19, Boston, Museum of Fine Arts fascicule 2. Boston: Museum of Fine Arts. Veach Noble, J. 1988. The Techniques of Painted Attic Pottery. London-Thames and Hudson. Wright, J.H. 1896. Five interesting Greek Imperatives. In Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 7: 85-93.


Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A New Interpretation1 Marianne Bergeron2 Introduction12

Herakles is depicted breaking off the Deer’s golden antlers (Figure 2).7 The deer on the plate has no antlers. The second interpretation, the Struggle for the Hind, is widely accepted.8 The struggle between Herakles and Apollo for the Hind is unknown from the literary sources but it is closely associated with another well-known struggle, that between Apollo and Herakles over a tripod, which was also a popular scene in Late Archaic and Early Classical art.9

Set prominently on display in the ‘Heroes and Myths’ case in the Ashmolean Museum’s Greece gallery, plate AN1934.333 has been published numerous times but almost only ever in passing.3 Previously, there was some disagreement regarding the subject matter. Is the scene depicting the Capture of the Keryneian Deer or is it a Struggle for the Hind? The caption in the display case prefers the former interpretation but the general consensus seems to favour the latter. The different narrative composition used for scenes of the Capture is different from that for the plate. Yet, the composition on the Oxford plate is equally different from that of the Struggles.

The tripod struggle scene has also been the subject of a number of studies relating to its historical background and composition.10 The conventional composition of the scene consists of four cast members. Herakles and Apollo are locked in a struggle for possession of a tripod. Artemis and Athena frequently appear in supportive roles. Occasionally, other deities including Hermes, Zeus and Poseidon make an appearance.

This present paper will examine the conventional compositions and cast of characters used for scenes related to the Hind and Tripod Struggles and compare them with the ambiguous scene and cast members on the plate. This paper will also take a closer look at Attic black-figure plates and examine their uses based on the contexts in which they were found. My aim is to determine whether the scene on the plate may not more appropriately be classified as a scene of everyday life, perhaps one related to cult activity and initiation rites.

The struggle follows two very distinct schemes. The earliest, known as the tug-of-war or stand-up fight scheme, has the fewest examples. Nonetheless, this composition was established perhaps as early as the late-8th century as found on a bronze tripod leg from Olympia and on a sealstone from Brauron.11 On black-figure pottery, the struggle appears in circa 550 on an Attic pyxis (Figure 3). It is closely followed by a Chalcidian skyphos and two Boeotian kantharoi.12 In these tug-of-war scenes, the tripod is set on the ground in the centre with Herakles and Apollo standing facing each other on either side of the device and each grabs a leg or handle.13 With

The Plate (Part 1) The Oxford plate, dated to circa 550 BC,4 measures 22.8 cm in diameter and is classified as a Type A1 plate according to D. Callipolitis-Feytman’s typology of Attic decorated plates (Figure 1).5 The vase has a wide grooved and flaring rim and a low grooved ring foot. The rim has two suspension holes and is decorated with a simple interlinked lotus flower pattern. The plate is heavily restored with added plaster and parts of the figured decoration are modern. The plate is also burnt. Its provenance is not precise, but is thought to have come from Attica. Beazley attributed it as in the ‘manner of Lydos’.6

de la Genière 1980: 46-48; Schefold 1992: 106-107; Brommer 1986: 23. The capture of the Keryneian Deer or Golden Hind was the objective of one of Herakles’ labours. According to Pseudo-Apollodorus (2.5.3), Herakles shot and captured it with his bow. Diodorus (4.13.1) suggests the use of a net and wearing the animal out. In art, the antlers are frequently emphasised with added white. 8  Beazley 1978: 115 no. 9; Parke and Boardman 1957: 280-281; Carpenter 1991: 44; Shapiro 1990: 123 note 67. 9  Pseudo-Apollodorus: 2.6.2; Hyginus Fabulae 32; Pindar Olympian 9: 43-47; Pausanias: 10.13.7-9. 10  On the historical background: Defradas suggested that the scene represented the growing tensions between the priests of Apollo at Delphi and the Pylian Amphictyony who were in charge of the sanctuary. Defradas 1954: 144. Parke and Boardman argued that the tripod struggle scenes were popular because the scene became symbolic of the First Sacred War in the early-6th century between the Delphic Amphictyony and Krisa (Kirrha). Parke & Boardman 1957: 276-282; Boardman 1978: 231. For other interpretations: Watrous 1982: 166-167; Shapiro 1989: 62-64. On the composition: Luce 1930: 313-333; Brommer 1973: 38-46; von Bothmer 1977: 51-63. 11  Tripod leg (Olympia Archaeological Museum, B 1730); Sealstone (Brauron Museum, 1305). 12  Attic Pyxis in Boston (MFA, 61.1256a-b); Chalcidian Skyphos in Naples (MAN; SA120); Boeotian kantharos fragment in Paris (Louvre, CA 952); Boeotian Kantharos fragments in Tübingen (Eberhard Karls Universität Archäologisches Institut, S101494a). 13  The struggle on the Tübingen fragments differs from other tug-ofwar scenes. Neither Herakles nor Apollo has possession of the tripod although each reaches out for it. 7 

The scene on the plate is interpreted in two ways. The first interpretation, the capture of the Keryneian Deer, is largely now rejected on the basis that the composition of the scene requires the presence of Artemis and not Apollo and I would like to thank the conference organisers for giving me the opportunity to participate in this conference. I would also like to wish Sir Boardman a very Happy 90th. 2  Butler & Levett Curator of Classical Greece, Ashmolean museum, Oxford. 3  Parke and Boardman 1957: 281; Boardman 1972: 57; Carpenter 1991: fig. 74; de la Genière 1980: 46-48; Brommer 1986: 23; Csapo 1993: 10 note 45; Shapiro 1990: 123 note 67; Vickers 1999: no. 10; Schefold 1992: 106-107; Popkin 2012: p. 218 note 43; Venit 1989: 110 note 51; Hoffmann 1988: 146. 4  Unless otherwise stated, all dates are BC. 5  Callipolitis-Feytmans 1974: 116; 319 no. 29; pl. 29 no. 29. 6  Beazley 1956: 115 no. 9. 1 


Marianne Bergeron – Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A New Interpretation

Figure 1. AN1934.333 Attic black-figure plate. In the manner of Lydos. Images © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford the exception of the Chalcidian skyphos, Athena and Artemis have not yet made an appearance.14 Other Attic examples of the tug-of war struggles date slightly later, between 500-475

and in these scenes Herakles is in the process of turning to run with the tripod, but it remains on the ground.15 Neck-amphora in the Vatican (MGEV, 16597); neck-amphora in Leipzig (Antikenmuseum der Universität Leipzig T50;) Lekythos in New York (MMA; 46.129.1); Type-A cup in Düsseldorf, (HetjensMuseum, 1954.8). 15 

On the Chalcidian skyphos, Athena stands behind the tripod and assists Herakles. 14 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. 1843,1103.80 Attic black-figure neck-amphora. Group E. © The Trustees of the British Museum The second scheme, known as the running fight scene, was introduced in circa 530-525, first on either bronze shield straps from Olympia or on the east pediment of the Siphnian Treasury at Delphi (Figure 4).16 The scene then appears on pottery and on temple metopes.17 The running fight scenes

occur at a slightly later phase of the myth. Herakles has already taken possession of the tripod and runs away. Apollo however, is close behind and grabs the device. Herakles looks behind, swinging his club over his head (Figure 5). There are some minor variations involving the direction of movement.18 The composition however, remains the same.

Bronze shield straps from Olympia (Museum, B1915; B983). von Bothmer 1977: 52; Boardman 1978: 229 note 5. 17  Beazley published a Siana cup fragment from Naukratis, dated 570560 now in London (British Museum, 1888,0601.760 + 1886,0401.1056.d). He hesitantly suggested that it may have depicted the Tripod Struggle. Very little of the fragment remains and what 16 

does, suggests that it would be a running fight. The date of the cup is too early for the Tripod Struggle and even more so for the running fight scheme, making this interpretation unlikely. Beazley and Payne: 1929: 259-260. 18  Luce 1930: 313-333; von Bothmer 1977: 51-63.


Marianne Bergeron – Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A new interpretation

Figure 3. 61.1256a-b Attic black-figure pyxis. Group of the Oxford Lid. Photograph © (date of publication) Museum of Fine Arts, Boston The Tripod and Hind Struggles share much in common. The latter follow the same two schemes, the hind merely replaces the tripod as the coveted object.19 They were not however, as popular as the Tripod Struggles.

depiction of the Hind Struggle.20 It is contemporary with the previously mentioned Attic pyxis and slightly earlier than the Chalcidian skyphos and Boeotian kantharoi. The majority of the Hind Struggles date between 525-500 and with the possible exception of one, all are running fight scenes.21

The Plate (Part 2)

There are a number of key differences between the Struggles and the scene on the plate. Just as its interpretation as the

Returning to the Oxford plate and its interpretation, the vase is thought to be a tug-of-war scene and also the earliest

Callipolitis-Feytmans 1974: 116; Parke and Boardman 1957: 280281. 21  Disregarding the plate. Neck-amphora in the Vatican (MGEV, 390). 20 

Boardman offers a possible reason for the substitution. Parke and Boardman 1957: 280-281. 19 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 4. CG.A.12 Cast of the east pediment of the Siphnian Treasury at Delphi. Images © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford

Figure 5. AN1965.114 Attic black-figure neck-amphora. Group of Würzburg 199. Images © Ashmolean Museum, University of Oxford


Marianne Bergeron – Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A new interpretation

Capture of the Keryneian Deer has been rejected in part on the basis of the conventional composition of the Capture scenes, the composition of the scene on the plate is entirely different from that of the Struggles.

Peisistratos who seized power in Athens and who fashioned himself as the embodiment of the hero.24 On the Oxford plate, the leftmost bearded figure’s identity is made in part on account of the knotted animal skin hanging over his shoulders. The lion skin as an attribute of Herakles appeared first an East Greek vase in the late-7th century and slightly later on Attic vases in the early-6th century.25 In these, Herakles was mainly portrayed wearing the pelt girted at the waist over a chitoniskos and the lion’s head as a helmet.26 The lion’s head is omitted from the Oxford plate, although Herakles is similarly portrayed in a few examples.27 These vases, with the exception of one, are earlier than the plate. In all cases, Herakles is otherwise identifiable through other attributes, the narrative composition or accompanying inscriptions.

In the first instance, the emphasis of the action in the tug-ofwar and running fight scenes is the ‘pulling apart’ actioned by Herakles and Apollo.22 In other words, the emphasis is on the actual struggle. In the tug-of-war scenes, both figures hold the tripod or deer and attempt to pull it out of the other’s grasp. In the running fight scenes, one figure (Herakles) has possession of the coveted object and the other (Apollo) grabs it and attempts to retake it. This ‘pulling apart’ action is entirely absent from the Oxford plate. Neither figure has possession of the deer, nor does either figure attempt to take it from the other. Here, both figures prepare to shoot each other over the deer. This action precedes any capture and subsequent struggle and requires that one figure knows of the other’s intent.

It is also worth pointing out that Herakles, in literature, is not the only Greek hero who wears a lion skin.28 In art, a number of deities wear the lion skin as well.29 On a black-figure amphora in Malibu, Omphale wears the lion skin in the same manner as Herakles.30 Odysseus wears a knotted animal skin on an oinochoe in Oxford.31

The emphasis of the action on the plate is centred on the deer and the female figure behind it. This may be in part attributed to the vessel’s shape. The majority of Tripod and Hind struggles occur on amphorai and lekythoi. These vase shapes provided artists with a natural ground line for their scene. The plate does not offer this same possibility. Here, the artist separated the field of decoration into two and by doing so, created a more triangular or pediment-shaped surface. As on temple pediments, emphasis of the scene is on the central figures where the space allotted is naturally larger than on the edges.23

It is not only gods and heroes who wear a similar pelt. Maenads often wear the nebris but they also frequently wear a knotted leopard skin.32 Others include a farmer tilling his land on a neck-amphora in a private collection;33 a hoplite on a hydria in Boston;34 a hunter on a neck-amphora in Taranto;35 men picking olives from trees in Berlin36 and a woman at a komos.37 Although not all of these figures are specifically wearing the lion skin, their headless pelts are fastened in similar fashion to that on the Oxford plate. The knot is clearly not exclusive to Herakles.

Next is an issue of scale. Both central figures are considerably larger than the figures at the ends. This might remind us of the sculptural arrangements on temple pediments. By making them larger, they naturally attract the viewer’s attention first. This is also emphasised by the two figures at the ends of the scene who are smaller. Admittedly, this difference might not have been the artist’s intent, one might suggest he was simply working with the space available and having begun at the centre, misjudged his working surface. By the direction of the hunters’ stance and the direction of their bows, the viewer’s attention is focussed towards the centre. It seems clear that the scene composition and the emphasis on the deer and the female figure, suggest the possibility of a scene other than a Hind struggle.

Homeric epic also informs us that Herakles was first and foremost an archer.38 During the 7th century, he became On Peisistratos’s tyranny and his association with Herakles, see Boardman 1972: 57-72; Boardman 1975: 1-12; Boardman 1978: 227234; Shapiro 1989: 15-16; 157-163. 25  Melian column-krater in Athens (NM, 354). Cohen 1994: 696. 26  On Herakles’ attributes including the lion skin: Boardman 1990: 184-186. On the manner in which Herakles wears his lion skin: Cohen 1998: 127-139. 27  Neck-amphora in Tarquinia (Museo Nazionale Tarquiniese, RC5564); neck-amphora in Rome (MNEVG, 74989); neck-amphora in Taranto (MAN, 164359); neck-amphora in Berlin (SMB- Schloss Charlottenburg, F1710; neck-amphora in Cerveteri (Museo Nazionale Cerite, 7968); neck-amphora previously on the London Market (Sothebys, BAPD no. 7164). 28  Homer describes how Diomedes wore a similar pelt. (Iliad 10,177178) but he’s never depicted this way in art. Virgil describes Aeneas wearing the pelt (Aeneid 2, 721-722) and Ascanius (9, 306-7) receiving one as a gift. 29  Artemis: dinos in Athens (NMAC; 1.607); Poseidon: neck-amphora in St. Petersburg (State Hermitage Museum, ST221); Athena: hydria in Berlin (SMB - Schloss Charlottenburg, F 1909). 30  J. P. Getty Museum, 77.AE.45. 31  Oinochoe in Oxford (AM, AN1896-1908 G.251). 32  Column-krater in Agrigento ( MAR, C1535); lekythos in Hamburg (Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, 1909.176); neck-amphora in Compiegne (Musée Vivenel, 989); Type-B amphora in Rome (MNEVG, 772); oinochoe in London (BM, 1864,1007.9); hydria in Paris (Cabinet des Médailles, 157). 33  BAPD no. 14902. 34  MFA, 01.8058. 35  MAN, 114326. 36  SMB -Pergamonmuseum, F1855. The figures have knotted the pelts at the neck and at the waist. 37  Private Collection (St. Louis, Missouri, BAPD no. 303060). 38  Odyssey 8.219-224. 24 

Herakles Why then has the Oxford plate been interpreted in this way? The identification of the scene as a struggle possibly stems in part from the identification of the leftmost figure as Herakles. Herakles was considered the greatest of the Greek heroes and he was worshipped throughout Greece first as a hero and then later as a god. Although early representations of the hero go back as early as the Late Geometric period, it is in the 6th century that his popularity increases substantially and he becomes the most frequently depicted figure in Greek art, in particular, Attic art. This is attributed in part to the Tyrant Woodford 1990: 141-142. Note the exception on one plate fragment in Delphi (Archaeological Museum, 8656). The artist separated the surface of the vase into two. Herakles and Apollo are locked in a running fight for the tripod. Although they are set in the centre of the vase, a palm tree and a basket behind them fill the space above their heads. Dolphins fill the exergue. 22  23 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


increasingly associated in art with the bow and arrow and was most frequently depicted using the Scythian double composite bow.39 In Late Archaic vase painting, he is sometimes even depicted in Scythian garb.40 The manner in which the figure on the plate draws his bow, from the ear rather than from the waist, is consistent with Scythian practice.

The identity of the female figure in the plate is more problematic. The essential characters in the Struggle scenes are Herakles and Apollo. The most frequently included female figures in these scenes are the goddesses Artemis and Athena. But these deities usually appear together, each siding with one of the protagonists.51 As the lone female on the Oxford plate, some identify her as Artemis.52

As is the case with the lion skin however, Herakles is not the only mythological figure who favours the bow and arrow. Artemis and Apollo are both renowned archers and the weapon is included in their list of attributes. Omphale holds a bow on the amphora in Malibu.41 On other vases, non-mythical figures such as young men, hunters, squires and warriors sometimes also hold and use bows and arrows.42 Calydonian Boar Hunt scenes often feature Atalante drawing her bow from the ear, as do Apollo and others.43 Herakles may have been known as an archer, but the weapon was not exclusive to him.

Artemis is perhaps known best as Apollo’s twin sister, goddess of the hunt, mistress of animals and protector of young boys and girls. She has a long history and the manner in which she appears in Archaic Greek art finds parallels in the Bronze Age Near East and in Minoan art. By the 6th century, her attributes included the bow and arrows with her quiver over her shoulder. She frequently wears long garments and her hair is loose. She sometimes wears a polos cap and later carries torches. She is sometimes accompanied by a fawn, an attribute she shares with her brother. She also appears alongside her brother and her mother Leto. It must also be noted that in many instances, her personal attributes are absent thus making her identification often uncertain. The figure on the plate has none of the usual attributes associated with Artemis regardless that she appears alongside a deer and wears her hair loose like Artemis since non-mythical female figures appear in a similar manner.53

The figure on the Oxford plate also wears a sheathed sword at his waist but the all-important club is missing. The club, as an attribute of Herakles, became popular in art in the 560’s.44 Despite the fact that the Herakles is not always depicted carrying the club, the weapon does appear as standard in the Tripod and Hind Struggles.45 Apollo The rightmost figure on the plate is generally identified as Apollo. Certainly, the quiver, bow and arrow might serve here as attributes of the god and in a few examples, Apollo draws his bow in a similar fashion.46 The lack of a beard also points to youthfulness, a manner in which Apollo is most frequently depicted.47 However in black-figure Apollo is usually shown with long or uncut hair.48 Sometimes Apollo wears a nebris but it is very clear that on the plate, the figure wears a panther or leopard skin.49 Other gods, heroes (including Herakles) and mortals are associated with the pardalis, but not Apollo.50

Other scholars prefer to identify the figure on the plate as Athena, the patron goddess of Athens and patron of Herakles.54 Naturally one of the most popular figures in Attic art, Athena is most recognisable from the aegis with a stylised serpent fringe over her peplos and her Attic helmet. By circa 570, Athena appears with her spear and shield. Again, none of these attributes appears on the plate. J. de la Genière suggests a third interpretation: Eris, the goddess of discord. This argument is based on the interpretation of the scene as the Capture for the Keryneian Deer and Eris presides over the dispute.55 Eris, who has no dedicated attributes, is only positively identified when an inscription bearing her name appears alongside her.56 She sometimes has wings but unless otherwise indicated, the figure might also be Nike. De la Genière also dismisses the identification of the figure as Artemis because, being associated with Apollo, Artemis would be standing behind him with her quiver and possibly her polos cap.57

Cohen 1994: 696-700; Brommer 1986: 65. Type-C cup in London (British Museum, 1873,0810.376); Type-B cup in Berlin (SMB- Schloss Charlottenburg, F2293). 41  See infra note 29. 42  Neck-amphora in Munich (Antikensammlungen, 1507); Type-B amphora in Berlin (SMB- Schloss Charlottenburg, F1688); neckamphora in New York (MM, 98.8.13); plate fragment in Athens (NM, 13937A). It must be considered that the bow and arrow were not the favoured weapon of Attic hunters. The early-6th century iconography shows a clear preference for spears. By the end of the century, hunters use swords, shields and rocks and wear helmets and greaves, thus creating a closer connection to warfare. Barringer 2001: 18-21. However, the bow and arrow were used by some, as the archaeological evidence demonstrates. Snodgrass 1967: 82-84. 43  For Apollo: neck-amphora in Hamburg (Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, 1960.1); neck-amphora in Paris (Louvre, E864); plate fragment in Athens (NMAC, 1.2406). For Atalanta: Dinos in Boston (MFA, 34.212); hydria in Florence (MAE, 3830). 44  Boardman, 1972, p.62. 45  An exception: Berlin, SMB- Schloss Charlottenburg, F2159. 46  See infra note 42. 47  For exceptions: neck-amphora in London (BM, 1843,1103.100.x); Type-A cup in Rome (MNEVG, 775); neck-amphora in Orvieto (MC, 2698). 48  He is described in this way in literature. Hymn to Apollo, 134; 449451; Iliad 20. 35. 49  For Apollo wearing a nebris: column-krater in New York (Metropolitan Museum of Art, 07.286.76); lekythos in Vienna (KM, 753); neck-amphora in Fiesole (Museo Archeologico, BAPD no. 6836); neck-amphora in Compiegne (MV, 974). 50  Pindar describes Jason wrapped in a leopard skin, (Pythian 4.78-85). Dionysos: neck-amphora in London (BM, 1851,0416.4); cup fragments 39  40 

in Athens (NMAC, 1.1632). Charioteer: neck-amphora in Rhodes (Archaeological Museum, 15460). Herakles: Type-A amphora in Orvieto (MC, 78). Warrior: neck-amphora in Boston (MFA, 01.8026). Artemis: Type-B amphora in Madrid (Museo Arqueologico Nacional, 11008). 51  There are some exceptions: stamnos in Paris (Cabinet des Médailles, 251); neck-amphora in Oxford (AM, 1965.114); lekythos in Zurich (Zurich University, 2495); lekythos in New York (MMA, 66.11.4). 52  Callipolitis-Feytmans 1974: 116; Carpenter 1991: fig. 74; Brommer 1986: 23. 53  Eg.: Hydria in Berlin (SMB, F1908); hydria in Rome (MNEVG, 47457); plaque in Athens (NMAC, 2574). 54  Parke and Boardman 1957: 281 note 36; Boardman 1972: 57. 55  de la Genière 1980: 46-48. 56  Little Master cup in Berlin (SMB- Shloss-Charlottenburg, F1775). 57  de la Genière 1980: 46.


Marianne Bergeron – Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A new interpretation

The figure on the Oxford plate has no attributes that confirm or reject her identification as a goddess. Perhaps a tentative identification can be made based on her visible characteristics. She wears a long short-sleeved peplos decorated with large spots and a red wreath on her head. Her hair is long and falls down over her shoulders, suggesting that she may be young. Parallels can be drawn with young women or girls in fountain house scenes from admittedly later black-figure hydriai.58 A mid-6th century hydria in Leipzig shows Thetis (named) and another unnamed female figure. Although armed, both are coiffed and dressed like the figure on the plate.59

The quality of the decoration of these plates is generally mediocre. Many portray scenes from mythology,65 others involve deities in non-narrative compositions66 and several show scenes of everyday life.67 Such a rich collection of themes involving gods, heroes and non-mythical figures reflects the changes that occurred in Attica in the first half of the 6th century on political, artistic, religious and social levels.68 As a vessel deemed appropriate for cult activity (though in what capacity is unclear), the religious processions on some are appropriate for the context within which they were found.69 Though the provenance of the Oxford plate is unknown, the suspension holes in the rim point to the manner in which it was displayed, perhaps in a sanctuary. The scene does not depict a religious procession but the composition is appropriate for cults involving initiation and pre-marital rituals.

Deer A few words must be said regarding the deer on the plate. It has no antlers thereby suggesting that it is either a fawn or an adult female. The lack of a penile sheath further suggests that the animal is female. S. Klinger differentiates fawns from does by their lanky limbs, protruding ears and proportionally larger heads.60 The deer on the plate might then be characterised as an adult female. The faded added white spots and long tail point a fallow deer. Deer are not only attributes of Apollo and Artemis, they frequently appear alongside maenads and by the mid-6th century, they become, alongside boar, typical prey in hunting scenes.61

Women and Deer Several ancient sources make comparisons between young girls and deer and one of the earliest is found in the Homeric Hymn to Demeter:

Swiftly they came to the great palace of their father, and quickly they told their mother              what they saw and heard. And she told them              quickly to go and invite her [Demeter] for whatever wages, no limits,              and they, much as deer or heifers in the hôrâ of spring 175        prance along the meadow, satiating their dispositions as they graze on the grass,              so also they, hitching up the folds of their lovely dresses,            dashed along the rutted roadway, their hair flowing              over their shoulders, looking like crocus blossoms. Homeric Hymn to Demeter Lines 171-178 (Transl. Gregory Nagy)

If the figures on the plate are not Herakles, Apollo and Athena/Artemis/Eris and if the scene on the plate is not a Hind Struggle then who are these figures and what are they doing? To explore this further, it is important first to look at the shape of the vase and its known uses. In general, plates were not common in Attic black-figure. The shape was first introduced by the Corinthians and the Attic version appeared in the 6th century.62 In Attica, the majority of plates were used as dedications in sanctuaries and as offerings in burials. Those from sanctuaries were found almost exclusively in those dedicated to female deities: the Acropolis sanctuaries, the Telesterion at Eleusis and the Artemision at Brauron.63 There is no reason to suppose that plates were specific to the cult of female deities, only that they were considered to be appropriate offerings to these goddesses.

2315); bell-krater in Los Angeles (County Museum, 50.8.40). Wagner 2001: 96; For pinakes: Karoglou 2010. It is unclear whether these plates were also used as receptacles for food. Black-figure plates could not be used for certain types of food as the non-glossed parts of the vase were susceptible to staining and deterioration. CallipolitisFeytmans 1974: 20. Some later black-glossed and a few entirely nonglossed plates were found in dining areas in the Agora, suggesting a dining use for some. Rotrof and Oakley, 1992: no. 251-255. 65  The arming of Achilles (Athens, NM, CC671); Herakles VS Geryon (Athens, NMAC, 1.2424); the judgement of Paris (Delos, AM, G31); Amazonomachy (Bonn, Akademisches Kunstmuseum, 339). 66  Athena stands between Dionysos and Poseidon who are seated (Toronto ROM, 776); possibly Athena alone (Athens NMAC, BAPD no. 8275). 67  Courtship: (Leiden, Rijksmuseum van Oudheden, XVA2); battle scenes: (Previously Konigsberg Museum, F159); Florence (MAE, BAPD no. 300891); warrior taking leave (Athens, NM, 17311); komasts (Florence, MAE, V101C). 68  For a discussion on the changes in narrative art in Athens in the first half of the 6th century, both in terms of subject matter and method of representation, as well as the various factors that influenced these developments: Boardman 1972: 57-72; Shapiro 1989: 1-17; Shapiro 1990: 114-148; Schefold 1992: 305-314. 69  From Eleusis: Archaeological Museum, 124; Archaeological Museum, BAPD no. 9783; From the Acropolis: Athens (Fetiche Tjami, 1959NAK266).

Plates from burials and sanctuaries are usually found broken and burnt. The suspension holes in the rim of some suggest that they were probably hung from sanctuary walls. Some of these plates were decorated on both sides, so perhaps suspended from trees, like plaques.64 Eg.: Hydria in Berlin (SMB, F1908); Compiegne (MV, 1055); London (BM, 1843,1103.17). On young girls in fountain house scenes: ManfriniAragno 1992: 127-148. 59  Antikenmuseum d. Universitat Leipzig, T3327. 60  Klinger 2002: 15. 61  Hydria in Rome (MNEVG BAPD #9029889); Little Master cup in Cambridge (Harvard University Arthur M. Sackler Museum, 1925.30.131); Little Master cup in London (BM, 1891,0806.84.+). 62  On the development of Corinthian plates: Callipolitis-Feytmans 1962: 117-164; Johansen 1923, 34-5; Payne 1931: 280; 297; 312-3; 336; Hopper 1949: 230-1. On the development of Attic black-figure plates: Callipolitis-Feytmans 1974: 15-22, 26. 63  Callipolitis-Feytman’s extensive catalogue includes vases from numerous sanctuaries. Callipolitis-Feytmans 1974; ΠαπαδοπουλουΚανελλοπογλου 1972: 185-302. 64  Amphora of Panathenaic shape in Munich (Antikensammlungen, 58 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Other ancient sources also describe and even urge young girls to dance just as deer prance.70 More recently, Klinger noted that deer and young women appear together in different types of scenes on black-figure vases as early as circa 530: wedding, running and dancing, water fetching and indoor scenes.71 She later revised her dating to include a Middle Corinthian cup. The cup depicts two young women named Nebris and Kluka. Klinger associates their names with Frauenfest scenes, scenes that are associated with women’s rituals in sanctuaries dedicated to Demeter and Kore at Corinth, Hera at Perachora and Artemis.72 As well, the deer often underscore the young women in the scene and provide emphasis to these characters.73 The running and dancing scenes are of particular importance here as they are associated with initiation rites.

no evidence pertaining to hunting as training for warfare in Athens until the late-4th century, but some information, in particular regarding weaponry, can be gleamed from the hunting scenes involving ephebes on Attic vases that were particularly popular between 560-550.79 A New Interpretation The deer at the centre of the Oxford plate leaps into the air with its hind legs and swings its neck back, much as the deer running and dancing on the krateriskoi.80 The female figure behind the deer moves perhaps in a frenzied manner. Her movements are similar to those of contemporary maenads.81 There is no suggestion that she is a maenad, just that she behaves wildly, much like young unmarried women were thought to be. Perhaps the deer is mimicking her actions like the deer on other vases, thereby emphasising the transition of a young girl into a woman. The presence of the hunters might emphasise a corresponding transition, that of a young ephebe into adulthood. The deer’s movements are also not unlike those of deer in hunting scenes.82 Similar parallels regarding the combination of both types of scenes are drawn with black-figure hydriai depicting young women collecting water from the fountain house and the predella below or the shoulder above consisting of a hunt or battle.83

Several black-figure krateriskoi bearing depictions of young girls running and dancing alongside deer were found in the sanctuary of Artemis at Brauron, at Mounichia in the Pireaus and some from the Brauronion on the Acropolis.74 These vases have exclusively been found in sanctuaries dedicated to Artemis and so are probably ritual vessels.75 Admittedly, these krateriskoi are dated later than the Middle-Corinthian cup and Oxford plate but cult activity at the sanctuary began much earlier in the 8th century. Here, young girls were prepared for marriage and motherhood.76 This rite is known as the Arkteia. It is thought that the iconography on these vases represents various activities that occured during this rite. The deer, as an attribute of Artemis, appropriately indicate her presence in this ritual but as C. Sourvinou-Inwood also points out, they may also serve another function: they reflect the metaphorical association between young girls preparing for marriage and wild animals. Young unmarried girls were considered partly wild.77 They were tamed through marriage. So the running as indicated in the initiation is interpreted as an erotic pursuit. The pursuit and capture of a girl by an ephebe for marriage is closely related to the pursuit and capture of a wild animal by hunters. The girls and the deer on these krateriskoi are fleeing in a ritual hunt.

If, as I suspect, the plate is representative of the all-important transition occurring in the lives of all Athenians, then the vessel, dated to circa 550, bridges the gap between the Middle Corinthian cup and the later Attic metaphorical associations of women and deer. Finally, fighting cocks are representative of the Athenian fighting spirit and the relationship between eromenes and erastes.84 Boardman interprets the fighting cocks on the Oxford plate as a humorous commentary on the main scene: two cocks fighting over a hen while another looks on, as answering Herakles and Apollo’s fight over the deer while Athena looks on.85 The cock is also a well-known symbol for transition and time, night and day, dawn and dusk.86 Perhaps the painter, in an attempt to represent another level of transition, employed a well-known motif that he knew would fit the remaining space.

Of course, initiation rites were not exclusive to girls or young women. Young men also partook in similar rites in preparation for their entrance into manhood. Though the texts are late, it is clear that hunting was essential for an ephebe’s preparation for warfare.78 The literary sources offer Sappho 58; Bacchylides (Ode 13, 83-93); Euripides (Electra, 860-861); Euripides describes fawns dancing to the music of Apollo’s lyre (Alcestis, 582-587); Archilochos compares a girl to a deer when describing her sexual readiness (196a, 42-47). 71  Klinger 2002: 11-41. 72  Middle Corinthian cup in Athens (NMAC, 2574); Klinger 2009: 100107. 73  Klinger 2002: 22. 74  Kahil 1963: 5-29; Kahil 1981: 253-263; Hamilton 1989: 449-472. 75  But note that some similar vases but with a flat base and simple banded decoration were found in Pan’s sanctuary at Eleusis. Kahil 1965: 23. 76  The Arkteia also took place at the sanctuary of Artemis at Mounichia in the Pireaus. Vikela 2008: 87; Kahil 1988: 812. 77  Sourvinou-Inwood 1987: 137-139. The model for wild young girls being tamed is best observed in the myth of Thetis and her numerous transformations from nymph into various shapes in an effort to escape marriage to Peleus. In the end, she transformed back into herself and accepted her fate. Ovid Metamorphoses 11. 221-265; Pseudo- Apollodorus: 3.13.5; Pausanias: 5.18.5 78  For a discussion: Barringer 2001: 10-15. Xenophon Cynegeticus 1.18; 12.1-9; 13.11-15; Aristotle Politics 1.1256b; Xenophon Constitution of the 70 

Lacedaimonians 4.7. 79  Barringer sees a link to the increased popularity of the hunting scenes in circa 560 with the rise of Peisistratos. Barringer 2001: 46. 80  Athens, NMAC, 621a/566a; Athens, Agora Museum P27342. 81  Type-B amphora in Basel (Antikenmuseum und Sammlung Ludwig, BS424.1965); Little Master cup in Munich (Antikensammlungen, 2212); Siana overlap cup in Salonica (Archaeological Museum, T289). 82  Rome MNEVG, BAPD no. 9029889. 83  Klinger and Manfrini-Aragno see the deer’s presence in these scenes as a symbol of the nymphs as well as an sllusion to forests, vegetation, water and fertility, again strongly linked to Artemis. Klinger 2002: 20-22; Manfrini-Aragno 1992: 133. Hydria in the Vatican (MNEVG, 426); hydria in Naples (MAN, SA12); hydria in London (BM, 1867,0508.957). Klinger 2002: 20-22; Manfrini-Aragno 1992: 132-133. 84  Popkin 2012: 216-221; Csapo 2006/2007: 24-25. 85  Boardman 1972: 57. 86  Csapo 2006-2007: 23.


Marianne Bergeron – Revisiting a Plate in the Ashmolean Museum: A new interpretation



Attic black-figure plates are rare but the opposite holds true of representations of the Tripod and (to a lesser extent) the Hind Struggles in the mid to late-6th century. The Struggles are united by their narrative composition and emphasis of action. Both differ from the scene on the Oxford plate. What is more, the cast of characters on the plate is ambiguous and none can be positively identified. Contrary to general consensus, the young woman and deer set in the centre should be seen as the protagonists. Deer and women appear together in a variety of genres certainly as early as 530, but allusions to their metaphorical associations go back at least to the early-6th century in art and in literature even earlier.

Barringer, J.M. 2001. The Hunt in Ancient Greece. London: Johns Hopkins University Press. Beazley, J.D. 1956. Attic Black-Figure Vase Painters. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Beazley, J.D. and H.G.G. Payne. 1929. Attic black-figured fragments from Naucratis. In JHS 49. 253–72. Boardman, J. 1972. Herakles, Peisistratos and Sons. In RA. 1: 57-72. Boardman, J. 1978. Herakles Delphi and Kleisthenes of Sikyon. In RA, Nouvelle Série. 2. 227-234. Boardman, J. 1978. Herakles Delphi and Kleisthenes of Sikyon. In RA. 2: 227-234. Boardman, J. 1975. Herakles, Peisistratos and Eleusis. In JHS. 95. 1-12. Boardman, J.1990. Herakles attends other mythological occasions. In Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae V. 183-192. Zurich: Artemis. von Bothmer, D. 1977. The Struggle for the Tripod. In U. Hockmann and A. Krug (eds) Festschrift für Frank Brommer. 51-53. Mainz: Von Zabern. Brommer, F. 1978. Vasenlisten zur griechischen Heldensage. 3rd ed. Marburg: Elwert. Brommer, F. (Translated by Shirley J. Schwarz). 1986. Heracles: The Twelve labors of the hero in ancient art and literature, New Rochelle: NY. Callipolitis-Feytmans, D.1962. Évolution du plat corinthien. In BCH. 96: 117-164. Callipolitis-Feytmans, D. 1974. Les Plats attiques à figures noires, Series: Travaux et mémoires (Ecole francaise d’Athènes); fasc. 19., vol I-II, Paris: Diffusion de Boccard. Carpenter, T.H.1991. Art and Myth in Ancient Greece. London: Thames and Hudson. Cohen, B., 1994. From Bowman to Clubman: Herakles and Olympia. In The Art Bulletin. 76, No. 4: 695-715. Cohen, B. 1998. The Nemean Lion’s Skin in Athenian Art’. In C. Bonnet and C. Jourdain-Annequin (ed) Le bestiaire d’Héraclès : IIIe rencontre héracléenne. Kernos. Supplément 7. 127-139. Liége: Presses universitaires de Liège. Caspo, E. 1993. Deep Ambivalence: Notes on a Greek Cockfight (Part I). In Phoenix. vol. 47. no. 1. 1-28. Csapo, E. 2006/2007. The Cultural Poetics of the Greek Cockfight in AAIA Bulletin. 20-37. Defradas, J. 1954. Les Thêmes de la propagande delphique.  Paris : Les Belles lettres. de la Genière, J. 1980. À propos d’un vase grec du Musée de Lille. In Monuments et mémoires de la Fondation Eugène Piot. 63. 31-62. Hamilton, R. 1989. Alkman and the Athenian Arkteia. In Hesperia. 58. 449-472. Hoffmann, H. 1988. Why did the Greeks need Imagery? An Anthropological approach to the study of Greek vasepainting. In Hephaistos. 9. Bad Bramstedt: Moreland. 143.162.  Hopper, R.J. 1949. Addenda to Necrocorinthia, ABSA. 44. 162257. Johansen, K.F. 1923. Les vases sicyoniens, étude archéologique. Paris: E. Champion. Kahil, L. 1963. Quelques vases du sanctuaire d’Artemis a Brauron. In AntK Beiheft. 1. 5-29. Kahil, L. 1965. Autour De L’Artemis Attique. In Antike Kunst 8. 20-33.

The Oxford plate is special. Its iconography is unique. Perhaps, it was especially commissioned for a dedicatory purpose. It is not the earliest depiction of a Struggle but it might be the earliest Attic representation of a girl’s transition to marriage and motherhood. Abbreviations AM: Ashmolean Museum BAPD: Beazley Archive Pottery Database BM: British Museum KM: Kunsthistorisches Museum MAE: Museo Archeologiuco Etrusco MAN : Museo Archeologico Nazionale MAR : Museo Archeologico Regionale MC: Museo Civico MFA: Museum of Fine Arts MGEV: Museo Gregoriano Etrusco Vaticano MMA: Metropolitan Museum of Art MNEVG: Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia MV: Musée Vivenel NM: National Museum NMAC: National Museum Acropolis Collection ROM: Royal Ontario Museum SMB: Staatliche Museen zu Berlin Primary Sources Archilochos Aristotle, Politics, Book 1 Bacchylides, Ode 13 Diodorus Siculus, Book 4 Euripides, Electra Euripides, Alcestis Homer, Iliad, Books 10, 20 Homer, Odyssey, Books 8, 9 Homeric Hymn to Apollo Homeric Hymn to Demeter Pseudo-Apollodorus, Books 2, 3 Pindar, Olympian 9 Pindar, Pythian 4 Hyginus, Fabulae Pausanias, History of Greece, Books 5, 10 Sappho Xenophon, Constitution of the Lacedaimonians, Book 4 Xenophon, Cynegeticus, Books 1, 12, 13 Virgil, Aeneid, Books 2, 9


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Kahil, L. 1981. Le ‘craterisque’ d’Artemis et le Brauronion de l’Acropole. In Hesperia. 50. 253-263. Kahil Lilly. 1988. Le sanctuaire de Brauron et la religion grecque. In CRAI 4. 799-813. Kallipolitis-Feytmans D. 1955. Pinakia à figures noires. In BCH. 79. 467-477. Kallipolitis-Feytmans D. 1962. Évolution du plat corinthien. In BCH. 86, 117-164. Karoglou, K. 2010. Attic pinakes : votive images in clay. Oxford: Archaeopress. Klinger, S. 2002. On Women with deer: In black-figure vasepainting. In Numismatica e Antichità Classiche. 31. 11.43. Klinger, S. 2009. Women and Deer: from Athens to Corinth and Back. In J.H. Oakley & O. Palagia (eds) Potters and Painters II: 100-107. Oxford: Oxbow Books. Luce, S.B. 1930. Studies of the Exploits of Herakles on Vases. II. The Theft of the Delphic Tripod. In AJA. vol. 34. 3. 313-333. Manfrini-Aragno, I. 1992. Femmes à la fontaine: Réalité et imaginaire. In C. Bron and E. Kassapoglou (eds) L’Image en jeu: de l’antiquité à Paul Klee. 127-148. Lausanne : Institut d’archéologie et d’histoire ancienne, Université de Lausanne. Παπαδοπουλου-Κανελλοπογλου, X 1972. Ανασκαφη  Ν. « Ακροπολεως » Μελανομορφη Κεραμεικη. In Archaiologikon Deltion. Athēnai : Hypourgeio Politismou. 27.1. 185-302. Parke, H.W. and J. Boardman. 1957. The Struggle for the Tripod and the First Sacred War. In JHS. 77, Part 2: 276-282. Payne, H. 1931. Necrocorinthia: a study of Corinthian art in the Archaic Period. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Popkin, M.L.. 2012. Roosters, Columns, and Athena on Early Panathenaic Prize Amphoras: Symbols of a New Athenian


Identity. In Hesperia: The Journal of the American School of Classical Studies at Athens. 81. No. 2. 207-235. Rotroff, S.I and J.H. Oakley. 1992. Debris from a Public Dining Place in the Athenian Agora. In Hesperia Supplements. 25. Shapiro, H.A. 1989. Art and cult under the tyrants in Athens. Mainz: Zabern. Shapiro, H.A. 1990. Old and New Heroes: Narrative, Composition and Subject in Attic Black-Figure. In CA. 9. no. 1: 114-148. Schefold, K. 1992. Gods and Heroes in Late Archaic Greek Art. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Snodgrass, A.M. 1967. Arms and Armour of the Greek. London: Thames and Hudson Sourvinou-Inwood, C. 1987. ‘A Series of Erotic Pursuits: Images and meaning. In JHS. 107. 131.153. Venit, M. S. 1989. Herakles and the Hydra in Athens in the First Half of the Sixth Century B. C. In Hesperia. 58, No. 1: 99-113. Vickers, M. 1999. Ancient Greek Pottery. Oxford: Ashmolean museum. Vikela, E. 2008. The Worship of Artemis in Attica: Cult places, rites, iconography. In Worshipping Women: Ritual and reality in Classical Athens. New York: Alexander S. Onassis Public Benefit Foundation in collaboration with the National Archaeological Museum, Athens. 79-88. Wagner, C. 2001. The Worship of Athena on the Acropolis: Dedications of Plaques and Plates. In A. Villing and S. Deacy (eds) Athena in the Classical World. 95-104. Leiden: Brill. Watrous, L.V. 1982. The Sculptural Program of the Siphnian Treasury at Delphi. In AJA. 86. no. 2. 159-172. Woodford, S. 1990. Struggle for the Tripod. In Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae V. Zurich: Artemis. 140-142.

The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary1 Ana Margarida Arruda2 and Elisa de Sousa3 Introduction123

teardrop-shaped tongues, with the vertex pointed towards the center.

Greek pottery imports are not particularly abundant on the Western coast of the Iberian Peninsula, especially when compared to the data compiled in other Southern territories, such as Algarve and Lower Alentejo (Arruda 1997, 2006). In this regard, the Tagus estuary is not an exception, despite the intensity of the Iron Age occupation in this area. Nonetheless, it has been possible to detect the presence of Attic imports of the Classical Period (5th and 4th centuries BCE) in some sites, and even of some Corinthian pieces, dating back to the Archaic Period (6th century BCE) (Figure 1).

The existence of two distinct vases of Corinthian production in the Tagus mouth area must be highlighted, particularly since these two pieces correspond to half of the Archaic Period Greek pottery found in what is nowadays the Portuguese territory, which was mostly produced in Corinth. In fact, there are only four fragments from the Archaic Period found in Portugal, one of which is Attic (a floral band cup, type C, from the 1st quarter of the 5th century BCE, recovered in the necropolis of Senhor dos Mártires, in Alcácer do Sal - Arruda 2006: 135), and the other also from the Middle Corinthian (olpe fragment similar to the one from Almaraz, retrieved in Castro Marim – Arruda 2005).

As for the first, they encompass, as we will see later on, black glazed and red figure vases, the morphologies and painters of which conform to the framework of Greek pottery distribution known in Western Iberia during this time, and therefore are easily integrated in broad commercial circuits that reached these peripheral regions. The latter are represented by two fragments found in Almaraz (Almada), a site with a clear Phoenician cultural matrix, which is attested by several archaeological finds unearthed during the archaeological excavations that took place in the area (Barros et alli 1993). Both pieces can be included in what was defined as the Middle Corinthian, dating from the early second quarter of the 6th century (around 575 BCE).

In this context it is important to point out that the Corinthian products are very rare in the Iberian Peninsula in general, and especially so in domestic areas, as is the case with the Portuguese findings. Even so, we should mention the presence of Corinthian arybaloi in Catalonia (Graells 2006), which is not surprising considering its recovery in the Greek colony of Ampurias. Its expansion towards the West seems to have been minor, although this type of aryballos is generally found in southeastern necropoleis such as Els Casetes (Shefton 1982: 354) and Villaricos (Trías 1967: 346, Lam. CXCII), and also in the necropolis of Medellín, in Extremadura (Almagro 2008: 577-578). Its presence in domestic contexts is far rarer, although we may point out the cases of Malaga (Gran-Aymerich 1988: 210-211; Recio Ruiz 1990: 146-147) and Huelva (Cabrera 1988-89; Fernandez Jurado et alli 1991: 75, 79; Rouillard 1991: 139).

The Archaeological Data Archaic Period As we stated earlier, the only two fragments of Greek pottery dating from the Archaic Period were retrieved in Quinta do Almaraz, in Almada (Cardoso 2004; Arruda 2005, 2006) (Figure 2).

The scarcity of Corinthian imports in the Iberian Peninsula has been duly emphasised by P. Rouillard some years ago, having been designated by this researcher as ‘saupoudrage’ (Rouillard 1991: 139). In any case, it is important to point out that, with the exception of Catalonia, under direct influence from Ampurias, the Corinthian pieces were retrieved in sites with a strong orientalising matrix (Villaricos, Málaga, Huelva, Medellín), indicating that their arrival in the West occurred in the framework of the supply of Greek products to the Phoenician colonies of the Gibraltar Strait area. In this vein, we should also highlight the fact that Almaraz and Castro Marim are both sites in which the presence of orientalising communities is strong after the late 8th century BCE.

The first of these artifacts belongs to an olpe or oinochoé which, despite its poor state of conservation, may be included in the OAO Group, an attribution which, despite the temptation of grouping it thus on the grounds of its formal and decorative traits, we nonetheless make with necessary caution. The fragment is decorated according to the canonical syntax of its type, in two panels separated by a glazed line. Its small dimensions only allowed the identification of rosettes of different dimensions through the incisions that define them both in their contour and interior details. The glaze is reddish-brown. The other fragment corresponds to the base of an aryballos with a small but pronounced omphalus, from which radiate

Classic Period Lisbon

This paper was produced in the framework of the research project ‘Fenícios no Estuário do Tejo’ PTDC/EPH-ARQ/4901/2012. 2  UNIARQ (Centro de Arqueologia) e Centro de Estudos Clássicos. Faculdade de Letras, Universidade de Lisboa. a.m.arruda@letras. 3  UNIARQ (Centro de Arqueologia). Faculdade de Letras, Universidade de Lisboa. [email protected] 1 

Although Lisbon presents an Early Iron Age occupation with unquestionably Mediterranean characteristics and a strong Phoenician component, evidenced by epigraphic and ceramic testimonia, there is, so far, no record of the presence of


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 1. Location of the Tagus estuary in the Iberian Peninsula and indication of the sites mentioned throughout the text.


Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa – The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary

Gryphomachy painter, in which the goodness Hera supports herself on a sceptre, in a scene that reproduces the judgment of Paris (Trías 1967: Lám. CCVI). We should also recall that both painters were included by J. Beazley in the Telos Group (Beazley, ARV, 1984: 1425-1434), dating from the 1st half of the 4th century BCE. The fragment’s internal surface is entirely covered by black glaze. The other fragment we classified as a krater is slightly more preserved (Figure 3 – n.º 4669). To the left appears part of the legs, naked and crossed, of a masculine figure, turned to the left. Some traces applied over the thighs show traces of a cloak perhaps upon which the figure is seated. On the right, a female figure is facing the seated figure. She wears a peplos with kolpos, on which rests her right hand. As it occurs with the previous fragment, the reading of the scene is fairly difficult. Still, we can assume that it represents, once again, a Dionysiac scene, probably with the Figure 2. Greek pottery from the Archaic Period from Quinta do Almaraz. god as the sitting figure and a maenad on his left. The basis of this interpretation rests on the position of the hand over the waist, which according to the Archaic Greek imports. Classical imports, on the other hand, shape of its fingers, also points to a chronology from the 1st are attested in about twenty fragments, almost all of them half of the 4th century BCE. Its integration on Beazley´s Telos unearthed in the Hill of Castelo de São Jorge. Group is also admissible (Beazley, ARV, 1984: 1428-1434). The internal surface of the fragment is also covered by black glaze. Of the several vases retrieved in that area, the large majority are decorated with red figures, and are typologically kylikes. A handle fragment retrieved from the same site was also Unfortunately, they correspond to small fragments, which identified, and it seems to correspond to a column krater (Figure makes it impossible to observe the figures decorating them 3 – n.º 4671). Unfortunately, it cannot be associated with any of both externally and in the inner central medallion, which the fragments above-mentioned, which probably belong to Bellon occasions is limited by reserved lines. Only a few lines of krateres. black glaze appear to limit reserved areas that correspond to palmettes, one of them under the horizontal handle (Figure One other rim fragment belongs to a red figure skyphos (Figure 3 – n.º 4577). It is therefore impossible to classify them with 4 – V2 [21] PL4). On its exterior surface, near the rim, part of a respect to their author or authors, even though an attribution volute is visible; the exterior is entirely covered by black glaze. to the Vienna Group 116 seems admissible. These pieces can The chronology established for similar vases is considerably be dated to the first half of the fourth century BCE. late, from the first half of the 4th century BCE, fitting the dimension and characteristics of the volute, which can be Two of the vases decorated with red figures retrieved in the integrated in the Fat Boy group (ARV2, 1495-1495). The pendent area of the Castle of São Jorge are krateres. On the exterior of rim of a lekanis lid was also recovered in Castelo de São Jorge the smallest fragment, we observe an arm, bent at the elbow (Figure 4 – V2 [27]). Unfortunately, the black glaze that framed level, of a figure holding a staff and turned to the right (Figure the decoration is poorly preserved and we can only glimpse a 3 – n.º 4667). This character wears a white long-sleeved suit, type of decoration documented in Ampurias (Trías, 1969: fig. stained with black glaze spots. The same technic of white CXX and CCXI) and Ullastret (Picazo, 1977: fig. XXI). This shape over-painting was used in the line composed by traces and is rare in the Iberian Peninsula, being represented mostly by its points that appears obliquely to the staff and in the ones lids in the Northeast and Southeast. Recently, the type was also over the shoulder. From the red figure on its right we can identified in Castelo de Moura (Soares, 2017: 187 – fig. 17, n.º only observe a small blur. Its association to any scene is 416) and, as we will see later on, also in Lisbon, in Rua Augusta. virtually impossible: the character can be either masculine or feminine, and can hold a staff or a thyrsus. In any case, Much more difficult to characterise morphologically is it seems necessary to recall that the maenads of Dionysiac a fragment without glaze on the internal surface, which krateres usually exhibit their arms bare, unlike the figure presents, on the exterior, two ovula separated by dots (Figure from the Lisbon fragment, although the application of black 3 – n.º 4666). They were probably part of a band formed glaze spots over the clothing and other elements are common by these elements, under which appears a reserved line. in these type of representations, as it occurs in the krater This band would limit, in the inferior parts of the body, the of Cerro del Minguillar (Ipponuba), attributed to the Tyrsus decorated area of a closed vessel, possibly a pelike or a hydria. Negro painter (Trías 1967: Est. CCXLVIII). These same black glaze spots appear, however, over clothing and long-sleeved Still in the Hill of Castelo de São Jorge, but on an area closer cloaks that cover arms holding staffs in other krateres found to the river, another red figures vessel was unearthed, in Iberia, such as the one in Cerro Real, attributed to Oxford´s


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Castelo de São Jorge, Lisbon (excavations directed by A. Gaspar and A. Gomes).


Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa – The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary

Figure 4. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Castelo de São Jorge, Lisbon (excavations directed by S. Guerra).

Figure 5. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Rua Augusta, Lisbon (excavations directed by M. Ferreira, A. Jorge and R. Ramos). which appears to correspond to a kylix (Pimenta et alli 2005: 321, Figure 10). Once more, the small size of the fragment precludes further considerations, but a dating within the 4th century BCE seems reasonable.

4670). The small dimension of the fragment also hinders the attribution of a specific chronology, although it surely extends from the late 5th century and the mid 4th century BCE. The shape, used to contain and pour liquids (perfume, olive oil, scented oils) is very rare in Portugal, with only one fragment identified in Tavira (Barros 2005: 937, Figure 10, nº 8). They are not generally common in the wider Peninsula, either, however, and in fact are fairly uncommon in the West in general. They appear, however, in the Northeast, namely in Ampúrias (Trías 1967: 216) and Ullastret (Picazo 1977: 118, lám. XXXII), both in black glaze and decorated with red figures. In Andalucia they were identified at Cástulo (Olmos Romera 1979), El Cigarralejo (Cuadrado 1987, Fig. 83.5), Zacatín (Adroher et alli 2016: 17), Albufera (Rubio 1986) and Baza (Presedo 1982, Fig. 71), although in these last two cases the morphology is considerably different when compared to other Iberian findings.

A fragment of a lekanis was retrieved in the Western area of the urban centre, in Rua Augusta. It corresponds to a vertical rim, followed by the typical flap-like ledge, for engaging the lid, with one of the lateral tubular and vertical protusions still visible (Figure 5). The internal surface is entirely covered in black glaze while the exterior is decorated with red figures (probably a palmette). This type of vessel, used to store jewels or cosmetics, was so far unknown in the Portuguese territory, with the exception of the rim fragment recently published from Castelo de Moura (Soares, 2017), and is rare in the Iberian Peninsula, where the type has been documented, but mostly through lids and in funerary contexts. In lightt of this, it makes sense to recall that these lids may have had more than one function, considering they could also have been used as plates. Lekanides fragments were also identified in Catalonia, both in Ullastret (Picazo 1977: 72, Fig. 2, nº 2, Lám. XXI) and in Ampurias (Sanmarti 1988: 124, 126, 128, 132, Fig. 5, 7, 9 e 13).

The black glazed pottery is rarer in Lisbon. Some vases could have been imported still in the final years of the 5th century BCE, such as Cástulo cups, documented both in the Castle of São Jorge (Figure 3 – n.º 4668) and in the NARQ (Núcleo Arqueológico da Rua dos Correeiros) (Arruda 1997; Sousa 2014), but the vast majority reached the Lower Tagus associated with the red figures vases, as is the case of the bolsal.

It is impossible to know if the trumpet-shaped spout, which can be classified as an askos corresponded to a vessel decorated with red figures or rather to a black glaze one (Figure 3 – n.º


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

The Cástulo cup is undisputedly the most frequent type imported in the Western Peninsula, being abundant in Portugal, namely in Castro Marim (Arruda 1997), Mértola (Arruda et alli 1998; Barros 2005), Mesas do Castelinho (Estrela 2010), Azougada (Rouillard 1991), Castro Verde (Maia 1986: 36), Fernão Vaz (Beirão e Correia 1991) and Alto do Castelinho da Serra (Gibson et alli 1998).

the vessel, and tells a tale of its own. The fact that one of the signs is Punic should not be seen as strange, since this circumstance has been documented in numerous ensembles of Attic pottery in the far west in the 4th century BCE., the best example of which is the shipwreck of El Sec (Arribas et alli 1987: 605-639), as well as many others such as the ones in Cigarralejo (de Hoz 1984: 14) and Ibiza. These Punic signs etched into Greek pottery, which could be considered as mercantile, have already been interpreted in the context of the distribution of these containers by Punic merchants (de Hoz 1984: 632), and the Lisbon vase is one further argument in favour of this hypothesis.

On the contrary, the bolsal is rarer, although they appear in the necropolis of Senhor dos Mártires, in Alcácer do Sal (Rouillard et alli 1988-89), in Castro Marim (Arruda 1997), in Cerro da Rocha Branca (Gomes et alli 1986: 89) and, as we will see further on, in Cabeço Guião – Cartaxo (Arruda et alli in press). The morphological features of the Lisbon fragment, namely its profile, the external protrusion in the attachment between the body and the base, and the foot´s groove, indicate a chronology from the 1st half of the 4th century BCE, more specifically between 380 and 350 BCE, according to the stratigraphy registered in the Athenian Agora (Sparkes and Talcott 1970: 107-8) and the El Sec shipwreck (Arribas et alli 1987: 333-346). Lisbon´s bolsal (Figure 3 – n.º 4673), like the latest specimens of this type, is entirely covered in black glaze, with the exception of the foot´s inner surface, which is reserved. The base’s interior surface was probably decorated with stamps limited by a guilloche circle, the last of which is still visible.

The Greek pottery of Lisbon can be considered scarce in light of the vast excavated areas with Iron Age levels, but it still presents some characteristics that should be duly emphasized. It is predominantly decorated with red figures and the formal repertoire is vast, including considerably rare shapes, related to the toilette, as is the case of the lekanides and the askos. They can therefore be considered as luxury items reserved for elite users. This scenario is different from the one observed in Southern areas (Arruda 2006: 140), where black glazed vessels dominate the inventories, in roughly 75% of the Greek imports. It appears that the use of Greek vessels in the context of domestic environments, especially as tableware, was considerably limited in Lisbon, and was apparently reserved for a restricted group of ancient Olisipo´s inhabitants.

Finally, we must refer to the fragment of a vessel’s base with stamped decoration on the interior surface, which corresponds roughly with the ‘Taller 3’ of the El Sec shipwreck (Arribas et alli 1987: 207-209). It is composed with blobs framed by a concentric circle, also filled with the same elements (Figure 3 – n.º 4672). Around this circle we can still see one of the 16 or 18 interlaced palmettes that normally appear in this taller. The external side of the base presents reserved concentric circles over the glazed surface, a feature we also observe in El Sec. In this shipwreck, this type of decoration is restricted to Lamboglia 21 or 22 type paterae, and therefore it is possible to assume the Lisbon´s fragment may belong to this type. Furthermore, we can assume thus because this is one of the commonest shapes in both Portugal and Spain.

Almaraz (Almada) A single fragment of Greek classic pottery was retrieved in Quinta do Almaraz. Its small dimension precludes any further comment, although it appears to be black glazed, probably from the first half of the 4th century BCE. Castelo dos Mouros (Sintra) The same observation applies to the small wall fragment of Castelo dos Mouros, in Sintra, recovered in a secondary layer. A chronology from the first half of the 4th century BCE. is also admissible in this case.

The presence of graffiti on the fragment’s exterior should be highlighted.4 The incised markings were made by different hands at different times. The ones in yellow are not grapheme; they seem to intersect one another, in an attempt to reproduce basic geometric figures, and were apparently the last ones to be engraved. Its interpretation is not an easy task, considering they do not fit into what is usually recognized as property marks. Nonetheless, considering that they appear to be the most recent, this explanation alone seems legitimate. The markings in red are thicker and one of them seems to engrave a Punic sign, specifically the letter Beth. It probably corresponds to a merchant’s mark and not a property mark. The ones indicated in blue are isolated and could be cursive letters, although it is not entirely clear. The ones in green, also isolated, most likely correspond to mercantile marks, and probably indicate a value or number, given their disposition. The number of markings on the fragment’s exterior reflects the commercial biography of

Alcáçova de Santarém The Greek pottery retrieved in the almost 200 square meters excavated in Santarém is very scarce, being represented by ten fragments only, nine of which certainly decorated with red figures (Figure 6). Six of these – three rims, one handle and two wall fragments – correspond to kylikes, a group to which the handle fragment could also be attributed, with all due reservations. The composition its decorations is hard to analyse, even though the rims that presents reserved lines drawing volutes, typical of the 4th century BCE., seems to point to the Vienna Group 116. Another two fragments will have been part of red figures krateres. Its small size precludes any stylistic considerations, but it almost certainly belongs to vases from the first half of the 4th century. A fragment of a bottom and stem very likely belongs to a krater as well. The last fragment is unclassifiable.

We thank José Angel Zamora the aid provided in Reading and deciphering these graffiti. 4 


Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa – The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary

Figure 6. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Alcáçova de Santarém (excavations directed by A. M. Arruda). Discussion The first observation that stands out when analysing the ensemble of the Greek pottery in the area of the Tagus Estuary is its scarcity, reflected not only in the number of vessels in itself but also in the number of sites where they have been found. In fact, the Late Iron Age occupation, between the 5th and the 2nd centuries BCE., is dense in this region, but from the twenty five known sites of this period only six have yielded Attic pottery. Of these, almost all of them stand out as important urban areas (Lisboa, Santarém, Chões de Alpompé, Castelo dos Mouros), with the only exception of Cabeço Guião, which is a small rural settlement. This scarcity of Greek pottery does not result from a lack of fieldwork, as is evidenced by the cases of Lisbon and even Santarém, sites were the excavations were prolonged and extensive in area, particularly in the first site. It corresponds in fact, as it seems, to a little explored ‘market’ by the Punic traders that transported these vessels to more peripheral areas, as the graffiti recovered in some shipwrecks, and also in the fragment recovered in Lisbon, seems to indicate. This certain distancing between the Lower Tagus and the Mediterranean centres from the late 6th century BCE. onwards, was already discussed in several works (Arruda 2005; Sousa 2014) and the data indicated by the Greek pottery seems, once more, to confirm it.

Figure 7. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Cabeço Guião (excavations directed by E. Barradas and C. Batata). Cabeço Guião (Cartaxo) Cabeço Guião is a modest settlement in a rural zone, in which farming and animal husbandry predominated. The excavations undertaken in the site resulted in the retrieval of a rim fragment of a Greek vase (Figure 7), corresponding to a bolsal. Considering its morphological details and the evolution of these vessels in the Athenian Agora (Sparkes and Talcott 1970: 107), it can be admitted that the piece from Cabeço Guião dates back to the last quarter of the 5th century BCE. Indeed, the upper part of the wall describes a simple curve, typical of the 5th century bolsal, instead of the double curvature observable in the 4th century types (ibidem).

Nonetheless, the morphological diversity and the presence of vessels decorated with red figures is somewhat surprising, especially because some shapes are considerably rare in the Iberian Peninsula, particularly in settlements, and some of them, such as the cosmetic vases, were even absent until now from the Portuguese territory. All this seems to point to a directed trade destined for a very reduced elite, who desired to be integrated, albeit inconsistently, in the Mediterranean world.

Chões de Alpompé The two Attic red figures kylikes from Chões de Alpompé were recovered during the excavations carried out in 2015 (Figure 8). The decorated area is reduced, being preserved only on the external surface, enabling no further reading. However, their attribution to the Vienna Group 116 is not unlikely and a date to the first half of the 4th century BCE. is admissible. Another fragment of these productions was recovered during surveys that took place in the 1950s.

This situation contrasts with Southern areas (Arruda 1997, 2006), where Greek ceramics, especially black glazed, are


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 8. Greek pottery from the Classical Period from Chões de Alpompé (excavations directed by A. M. Arruda). a frequent occurrence, showing social and consumption habits compatible with their integration into a Greco-Punic koiné.

Cabrera, P. 1988-89. El comercio foceo en Huelva: cronologia y fisionomia. Huelva Arqueológica 10-11 (3): 41-100. Cardoso, J. L. 2004. A Baixa Estremadura dos Finais do IV milénio a.C. até à chegada dos romanos: um ensaio de história regional. Oeiras: Câmara Municipal. Cuadrado Diaz, E. 1987. La necropolis iberica de ‘El Cigarralejo’ (Mula, Múrcia). Múrcia: Comunidad Autónoma. Estrela, S. 2010. Os níveis fundacionais da Idade do Ferro de Mesas do Castelinho (Almodôvar). Os contextos arqueológicos na (re)construção do povoado. Master thesis (Faculdade de Letras da Universidade de Lisboa). Fernández Jurado, J.; P. Rufete, C. García Sanz 1991.  Cerámicas griegas del solar nº 5 de la C/ M. Núñez de Huelva.  In P. Cabrera, R. Olmos, E. Sanmartí (coords.) (coords.) Iberos y griegos: lecturas desde la diversidade: 67-96. Huelva: Universidad. Gibson, C.; V. H. Correia; C. B. Burgess; S. Boardmann 1998. Alto do Castelinho da Serra (Montemor-o-Novo, Évora, Portugal). A preliminary report on the excavations at the Late Bronze Age to Medieval Site, 1990-1993. Journal of Iberian Archaeology 0: 189-244. Gomes, M. V.; R. V. Gomes and C. M. Beirão (1986). O Cerro da Rocha Branca (Silves) – resultados preliminaries de três campanhas de escavações. In Actas do 4º Congresso do Algarve: 77-83. Silves: Racal Clube. Graells, R. 2006.  El Aryballos corintio de la necrópolis de Milmanda (Vimbodí, Tarragona) y su cronologia. Archivo Español de Arqueología 79: 207-216. Gran Aymerich, J. M. 1988.  Cerámicas griegas y etruscas de Málaga. Excavaciones de 1980 a 1986.  Archivo Español de Arqueología 61: 201-222. De Hoz, J. 1984. Los grafitos de El Cigarralejo y los signos mercantiles griegos en Hispania.  Boletín Informativo de la Asociación Española de Amigos de la Arqueología 19: 11-14. Olmos Romera, R. 1979. Estudio sobre la cerámica ática del estacar de Robarinas (Cástulo, Jaén). In J. M. Blázquez (dir.). Castulo II. Excavaciones Arqueológicas en España (105): 398-404. Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura. Picazo, M.  1977.  La cerámica ática de Ullastret. Barcelona: Instituto de Arqueología y Prehistoria. Pimenta, J.; M. Calado and M. Leitão 2005. Novos dados sobre a ocupação pré-romana da cidade de Lisboa: as ânforas da sondagem n.º 2 da Rua de São João da Praça. Revista Portuguesa de Arqueologia 8-2: 313-334. Presedo Velo, F. 1982. La necrópolis de Baza. Excavaciones Arqueológicas en España (119). Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura. Recio Ruiz, A. 1990. La cerámica fenicio-púnica, griega y etrusca del sondeo de San Agustín (Málaga). Málaga: Monografías.

The relative Hellenization of the Algarve, and even of Alentejo, which manifested in the ways of consuming liquid and solid food does not seem to take place on the west coast, where, nevertheless, Greek pottery is present. Bibliography Adroher Auroux, A.; A. Sánchez Moreno and I. Torre Castellano 2016. Cerámica ática de barniz negro de Iliberri (Granada, España). Análisis crono-estadístico de un context cerrado. Portugália 37: 5-38. Almagro-Gorbea, M. 2008. La necrópolis de Medellín. II. Estudio de los Hallazgos. Madrid: Real Academia de la Historia. Arribas, A.; M. G. Trias; D. Cerdá and J. Hoz 1987. El Barco de El Sec (Costa de Calviá, Mallorca). Estudio de los materiales. Mallorca. Arruda, A. M. 1997. As cerâmicas áticas do Castelo de Castro Marim no quadro das exportações gregas para a Península Ibérica. Lisboa: Edições Colibri. Arruda, A. M. 2005. O 1º milénio a.n.e. no Centro e no Sul de Portugal: leituras possíveis no início de um novo século. O Arqueólogo Português Série IV-23: 9-156. Arruda, A. M. 2006. Cerâmicas gregas encontradas em Portugal. In AAVV, Vasos Gregos em Portugal. Aquém das colunas de Hércules: 135-140. Lisboa: Instituto Português dos Museus e Museu Nacional de Arqueologia. Arruda, A. M.; P. Barros and V. Lopes 1998. Cerâmicas áticas de Mértola. Conímbriga 37: 121-149. Arruda, A. M.; E. Sousa; E. Barradas; C. Batata; C. Detry and R. Soares (in press). O Cabeço Guião (Cartaxo – Portugal): um sítio da Idade do Ferro do vale do Tejo. Barros, L.; J. L. Cardoso and A. Sabrosa (1993) – Fenícios na margem sul do Tejo. Economia e integração cultural do povoado de Almaraz – Almada. Estudos Orientais 4: 143-181. Barros, P. 2005. Cerâmicas áticas no Circuito do Estreito do Extremo-Ocidente Peninsular: Quinta da Queimada, Ilhéu Rosário, Faro e Tavira. In El Período Orientalizante. Actas del III Simposio Internacional de Arqueología de Mérida: Protohistoria del Mediterráneo Occidental: 931-945. Mérida: CSIC. Beazley, J. D. 1984. Attic Red-Figure Vase-Painters. 2nd edition. Oxford. Beirão, C. M. and V. H. Correia 1991. A cronologia do povoado de Fernão Vaz. Conimbriga 30: 5-11.


Ana Margarida Arruda and Elisa de Sousa – The Greek Pottery of the Tagus Estuary

Rouillard, P. 1991. Les grecs et la Peninsule Iberique du VIIIe au IVe siècle avant Jésus-Christ. Paris. Rouillard, P.; A. C. Paixão; M. C. Villanueva Puig; J. L. Durand 1988-89. Les vases grecques d´Alcácer do Sal. O Arqueólogo Português IV-6/7: 43-108. Rubio Gomis, F. 1986. La necrópolis ibérica de la Albufereta de Alicante (Valencia, España), Valencia. Sanmarti Grego, E. 1988. Datación de la muralla griega meridional de Ampurias y caracterización de la facies cerámica de la ciudad en la primera mitad del siglo IV a. de J.C. Revue des Études Anciennes (REA) X: 99-137. Shefton, B. 1982  Greeks and Greek Imports in the South of the Iberian Peninsula. The Archaeological evidences. Madrider Beiträge 8: 337-368.

Sparkes, B.A. and L. Talcott 1970. Black and plain pottery of the 6th, 5th and 4th centuries B.C. The Athenian Agora. Princeton, New Jersey: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Vol. XII. Soares, R. 1970. A cerâmica grafitada e o seu context, entre a margem esquerda do Guadiana e a Serra de Aracena. Onoba 5: 171-193. Sousa, E. 2014. A ocupação pré-romana da foz do Estuário do Tejo. Lisboa: Centro de Arqueologia da Universidade de Lisboa. Sousa, E. and Guerra, S. in press. A presença fenícia em Lisboa: novos vestígios descobertos no alto da colina do Castelo de São Jorge. Trías, G. 1967. Cerámicas griegas de la Península Ibérica. Valência.


Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches Konstantina Tsonaka The iconography of Archaic and Classical Attic pottery includes numerous depictions of vases, both decorated and plain. These fictive vessels provide us with fruitful information not only in terms of shape, typology, material and usage but also of several topics, some of which are about to be discussed here.1 These are: a) the presence and use of vases depicted in various scenes of public and private life, e.g. banquet, komos, women’s world, funerary subjects, religious themes, Dionysian episodes, together with the written sources, b) the preference for specific types of vases in correlation with the shapes they embellish, c) the appearance of certain shapes in relation to the context they are used in, d) the decoration of the depicted vases, e) the temporal relationship between the depicted vase and the vessel on which it appears. This means that besides the cases where the depicted and the real pot occur simultaneously, there are some occasions where the pictorial version of the vase appears before the beginning of its ceramic production in Attic Kerameikos or after the end of its lifespan, f) the correlation between the depicted vase and the one carrying the image in cases where the first replicates quite often in an accurate way - the second. Thus, it functions as a ‘λαλοῦν σύμβολο›, intensifying the content of the image. The ultimate objective is to examine the frequency distribution and the preference for specific types of vases in Attic imagery according to the shapes they embellish and to discuss certain shapes in relation to the context they are used in.

Figure 1. Depictions of kraters in relation to context depicted with over 100 representations.6 The depictions of the column krater begin in the second quarter of 6th c. B.C., a period that coincides with its greatest popularity, mostly in Lydos’ and Louvre F6 Painter’s work.7 The type appears mostly in komos scenes with a total of 69 representations and less often in banquet and Dionysian scenes with 24 and 13 representations, respectively (Figure 1).8 Although the type appears with the same frequency in various contexts both in black and red figure, its representations in red-figured komos scenes are six times more than in the black-figured ones.9 Images of komasts holding a kylix, skyphos and oinochoe around a column krater become more frequent, however, the column krater appears rarely in banquet scenes, often within the context of a young boy (pais) ladling wine with an oinochoe from a column krater.10 Moving to the shape distribution tables of the vases that illustrate the column krater we see that in the black figure

Most of the extant banquet scenes under examination coincide with the heyday of the Attic symposium, i.e. from 530/20 to 480/70 B.C. As expected, the vases that appear both on banquet2 and komos3 scenes are of similar shapes. However, they appear more frequently on komos scenes mainly because between 530/20 and 450 B.C. the extant komos scenes in Attic vase painting outnumber the symposium scenes in general.4 Nevertheless, when it comes to the representations of the kylix we find out that most them appear more frequently on symposium scenes than on komos scenes. Of all four types of the krater – the sympotic vessel par excellence5 - the column krater is the one most often * I am grateful to the members of the Organizing Committee for the privilege of honoring Professor Sir John Boardman with a contribution to this volume. For depictions of vases on vases, see Gericke 1970. Tsonaka 2008 (with older bibliography). For frescoes with representations of vases in Etruscan tombs, see Steingraeber 2006. 2  For the iconography of the Attic symposium, see Topper 2012. For bibliography, see Tsonaka 2008: note 90. 3  For bibliography about komos, see Tsonaka 2008: note 91. 4  For example, in Beazley archive ( the confirmed symposium scenes number around 2669, while the komos scenes around 2908 (last update 17/9/2017). 5  In Theognis’ verse (v. 981), the word κρατήρ replaces the term symposium, see Bergk, T. (ed.) 1915. Poetae Lyrici Graeci II. Leipzig. 203. For the importance of the krater during symposium, see Lissarrague 1990a: 19-46. Lissarrague 1990b: 196. For the placement of the krater during symposium, see Langner 2014: 385-98. 1 

For the corinthian origin of the type, see Bakir 1974. For the shape, see Sparkes - Talcott 1970: 54; Zaphiropoulou, P. 1970; ‘Vases peints du musée de Salonique.’ BCH 94: 380-398; Tiverios 1988: 120 ff.; Moore - Philippides 1986: 23-25, pls 41-46; Σερμπέτη, Ε. 1986. ‘Παρατηρήσεις γύρω από την τεχνοτροπία και τη διακόσμηση ενός αττικού κιονωτού κρατήρα στο Λονδίνο›, ΑΑΑ ΧΙΧ: 119-132. Moore 1997: 20-23; Bloedow, E.F. et al., 1991. An Attic Red-Figured Krater by the Hephaistos Painter, EchosCl, N.S. 10: 229-235. 7  Moore - Philippides 1986, 24; Moore 1987: 21. For Lydos see Tiverios, Μ. 1976. Ο Λυδός και το έργο του : συμβολή στην έρευνα της Αττικής μελανόμορφης αγγειογραφίας. Athens. For Louvre F6 Painter see Tiverios 1988: 94 ff. 8  Tsonaka 2008: 200. 9  For examples, see Tsonaka 2008: 201, note 506. For komasts dancing around the krater, see Gossel-Raeck 1992: 299-302. 10  Hoesch 1992a, 235-237. Tsonaka 2008: 202 ff. 6 


Konstantina Tsonaka – Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches

the type is represented primarily on neck amphoras and on skyphoi, whereas in the red figure most representations are found on kylikes and on column kraters – particularly painted by the Leningrad Painter (Figure 2).11 Of the volute krater12 there are less depictions, mainly on red-figured kylikes and, sporadically, on column-, volute- and calyx kraters13 (Figure 2). The type appears with the same frequency both in Dionysian and in komos - mostly on cups – context, while less often in symposium scenes (Figure 2) .14 Indeed, the earliest representation of the type occurs in a Dionysian episode of the mid-6th c. B.C. to which we shall return. The occasional representations of the volute krater in symposium context appear much later – in the last decade of the 6th c. B.C. -, and are known only in red figure technique (Figure 1).15 The depictions of the calyx krater in Attic vase-painting seem to begin simultaneously with the introduction of the shape in Attic Kerameikos, around 530.16 The use of this vase is associated to some extent, to that of the psykter, since both shapes make their appearance in the repertory of Attic pottery at the last quarter of the 6th c. B.C.17 This correlation is reinforced by the iconography where the psykter – when in use - is usually found along with the calyx krater.18 As it happens with the other three types of the krater, the frequency of the calyx krater depictions in symposium context is also low (Figure 1).19 Similar data can be extracted Tsonaka 2008: 200. For the shape of the volute krater, see Hitzl 1982; Schleiffenbaum 1991; Karousou, S. 1955. ‘Fragments d’un cratère à volutes provenant de la collection Hélène Stathatos.’ BCH 79: 192 ff; Rumpf, A. 1927. Chalkidische Vasen: 123. Berlin - Leipzig; Sparkes – Talcott 1970: 54; Moore - Philippides 1986: 25-26; Kanowski 1984: 69. For the origin of the volute krater, see Tiverios 1988: 130, note 579. For depictions of the volute krater, see Tsonaka 2008: 228 ff. 13  Tsonaka 2008: 229. 14  Tsonaka 2008: 230. 15  Tsonaka 2008: 229. 16  For the origin and development of the shape, see Frank 1987; Frank 1990; Hinkel 1967; Sparkes – Talcott 1970, 54, note 1; Moore Philippides 1986: 26-27; Tiverios 1989: 59 ff.; Moore 1997: 26-30; Huber 2000. For the theory of the ionian origin of the type, see Jacobsthal, P. 1934-36. MetrMusSt 5: 117-121, 133-134, 136. S. also, Bakalakis, G. 1956. Κυπριακά Γράμματα, volume ΚΑ΄ : 185-187. For the use, see von Bothmer, D. 1976. ‘Der Euphronioskrater in New York.’ AA, 486 ff. 17  Drougou, S. 1975. Der Attische Psykter. Würzburg. Some potters who were involved in the production of calyx kraters made also psykters, such as the potters of Pezzino Group, Myson, Euphronios and others. For the catalogue, see Schauenburg, K. 1965. ‘Eine Psykter aus dem umkreis des Andokidesmalers’, JdI 80: 76, note 3. 18  On a black-figured skyphos in Heidelberg, Univ. 279 the psykter is placed inside a lekane, while on the tondo of a red figured cup by the Antiphon Painter in Compiègne, Mus. Viv. 1102 it is placed inside a bell krater. Of course, there are examples, where the wine is being ladled directly from the psykter. For examples, see Tsonaka 2008: 294, esp. 300. 19  Black figured: a) tondo of a cup in Essen, Mus. Folkw. Α 169 painted with the manner of the Andokides Painter / Lyssipides (520 B.C.). Red figured: a) cup by Phintias (ca 510 B.C.) in Malibu, PGM 80.ΑΕ.31, b) cup by the Ambrosios Painter (505-500 B.C.) in Rome, Villa Giulia 50458, c) tondo of a cup by Makron (490 B.C.) in Berkeley, Mus. 8.2184, d) kalpis by the Nikoxenos Painter (500 B.C.) in Kassel, Antikenslg. A Lg 57, where the ivy-wreathed calyx krater is decorated with a running Satyr in silhouette, e) cup by Ieron and Makron (490-480 B.C.) in Florence, Mus. PD 317 / Toronto, priv. coll., f) pelike by the Somzée Painter (430-420 B.C.) in New York, MMA 75.2.27, g) lebes fragment by the Dinos Painter (ca 410 B.C.) in Palermo, Mus., h) calyx krater by the Kadmos Painter (ca 420 B.C.) in Bologna, Mus. Civ. Ρ 303, i) hydria 11  12 

Figure 2. Depictions of kraters in relation to shape for the depiction of both shapes in komos scenes. Komasts with a kyathos in one hand and a kylix or a kantharos in the other ladle wine from a psykter floating inside a calyx krater.20 When the calyx krater is depicted without the psykter, mostly in early red-figure, young komasts holding a skyphos, kylix or oinochoe draw wine directly from the calyx krater.21 When we deal with a symposium scene, there is usually a young boy holding a strainer and an oinochoe standing next to it. The depictions of the bell krater start simultaneously with the first extant ceramic examples, during the last quarter of 6th c. B.C. Despite the popularity of the shape in the last decades of the 5th and throughout the 4th c. B.C., this type is scarcely by the Wedding Procession Painter (350-340 B.C.) in St. Petersburg, Hermitage St 1794, j) bell krater (380-370 B.C.) in Naples, Mus. Naz. Η 2202. 20  Black figured: a) eye-cup in Florence, Mus. Arch, b) oinochoe by Kleisophos and Xenokles (ca 530 B.C.) in Athens, National Archaeological Museum 1045 (CC 691), c) pelike (500/490 B.C.) in Bonn, Akad. Kunstmus. 574, d) pelike by the Theseus Painter in Munich, Antikenslg. 1678. Red figured: a) cup interior by Onesimos (510-500 B.C.) in London, British Museum 1901.7-11.2, b) cup interior by the Colmar Painter (500 B.C.) in Harrow, School Mus. 53, c) cup by the Antiphon Painter in New York, coll. N. Schimmel 91.71.307, d) cup by the Antiphon Painter in Paris, Musée du Louvre S 1321, e) cup by Oltos (515-510 B.C.) in Florence, Mus. ΙΒ 20, f) cup of Type B by Makron (490-480 B.C.) in Bruxelles, Musée Royaux R 264. 21  Tsonaka 2008: 245-6.


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

depicted in attic vase painting. Only four red-figured vase paintings denote its use during symposium.22 Because of its non-ceramic origin, the first and earlier version of bell-krater with lugs, which appears in the last quarter of the 6th c. B.C., is related to the wooden vintage vats.23 This might explain the fact that this variation is depicted mostly on vintage scenes.24 It is probable that on these early representations the fictive vessels are thought to be made of wood. Most of its depictions is found on cups (Figure 2). On the tondo of a series of kylikes by the Euergides Painter a youth is depicted inside a bell krater with lugs, a picture which has been interpreted as a vintage scene.25 By the mid-5th c. B.C. this version starts to lose publicity and is displaced by the version with the round, upturned handles, whose production has started since the second quarter of the 5th c. Surprisingly, the representations of bell kraters with lugs both in komos26 and in symposium27 scenes outnumber those of the more common ones with the round upturned handles.

found on various shapes,32 including column kraters,33 during the 6th c. B.C. Another fragment of this vase shows a satyr ladling wine from a volute krater decorated with a chariot and a flying eagle in incision (Figure 4). The handles of the fictive krater are decorated with ivy leaves, which in real volute kraters appear slightly later, by the last quarter of 6th c. The decoration of the rim with incised rosettes finds no parallels on kraters of clay.34 On a fragmentary amphora Type A by the Amasis Painter (ca 540 B.C.) in Samos, a black column krater bears the partially preserved incised image of a satyr advancing toward a sleeping maenad.35 This motif is not yet encountered on the vases of that period and the image on the simulacrum must be the earliest example of its kind (Figure 5).36 Turning to the depictions of the calyx krater, we see that this type seems to be not only the most often embellished type of kraters but of all Attic shapes in general.37 Of interest is the decoration of an Attic red-figured fragmentary krater from the sanctuary of Artemis and Iphigenia at Brauron, Archeological Museum A 56.38 A male figure, probably Apollo, seats at an altar, in front of which lies a figured krateriskos. The decoration of the vase with silhouettes of running young girls reiterates a subject distinctive for this type of vessel and relevant to the cult of Artemis (Figure 6).39 On the contrary, the decoration of the foot finds no parallels in pottery, since the extant ceramic krateriskoi are decorated with horizontal, parallel bands.40 On a symposium scene decorating a redfigured kalpis by the Nikoxenos Painter (500 B.C.) in Kassel, a psykter is floating inside an ivy-wreathed calyx krater decorated with a running Satyr in silhouette looking behind (Figure 7).41 The motif of the running Satyr looking behind is also found on column kraters dating in the first half of the 5th c. B.C.42 and on the interior of cups.43

Turning to iconography, most of the depicted vessels in Archaic and Classical vase-painting are left without decoration. Although it has been argued that the krater is usually depicted without decoration,28 we see that apart from the bell krater, all three types of kraters bear linear or figural decoration when illustrated in komos and symposium scenes, starting from the late second quarter of 6th c. B.C. and onwards. On these scenes, the fictive vessel is thought to be of clay, although the white added color implies another material, probably glass or silver.29 The earliest embellished fictive vessel appears on a fragmentary black-figured column krater by Lydos in Malibu:30 a satyros is pouring wine into a column krater, which bears a lion attacking a bull in incision (Figure 3).31 The motif of the lion or lions attacking a bull is Tsonaka 2008: 297. Sparkes - Talcott 1970: 55. For the earliest bell kraters with lugs, all by the Berlin Painter, see Beazley, J.D. 1911. ‘The Master of the Berlin Amphora.’ JHS 31: 276-95, pl. 10, 2; id., 1974. The Berlin Painter: 11 no. 95-98; CVA Louvre (1) III.I.c pl.6.8; CVA Louvre (2) III.I.c. pl.12.2, 5, 7. For the shape of the bell krater, see Tiverios 1989: 63-64. For the development of the shape, see Richter - Milne 1935: 7-8; Sparkes Talcott 1970, 55; Moore 1997: 31-34; Kanowski 1984: 63-64; CVA San Francisco (1) 44-45 (H. R. W. Smith). 24  a) bell krater by the Kleophrades Painter (480 B.C.) in Basel, Antikenmuseum BS 482, b) column krater by the Orchard Painter (περ. 460 B.C.) in Ferrara, Museo Nazionale T 254, c) column krater by the Orchard Painter (445-435 B.C.) in Rome, Museo Gregoriano Etrusco Vaticano 16505, d) cup in Ostwestfalen, Collection D. J. 25  Tsonaka 2008: 294 ff. 26  On cups by the Euergides Painter: a) Würzburg, Wagner Mus. 473, b) Cambridge, Fitz. Mus. 37.15, c) Leipzig, University Τ 3373, d) Leipzig, Univ. Τ 495 and Freiburg, e) column krater by the Pig Painter (480470 B.C.), coll. E. Borowskie 85 9, f) lekythos by the Bowdoin Painter in Agrigento, Museo Archeologico 21, g) cup near the Triptolemos Painter (ca 500 B.C.) in Leipzig, University Τ 509. For the version with the round handles, cf. cup by Epiketos (510-500 B.C.) in London, British Museum Ε 37. S. also Tsonaka 2008: 267. 27  a) neck amphora by the Berlin Painter (505/500-470/65 B.C.) in Paris, Louvre G 201, b) calyx krater by Polygnotos Group in Tarquinia, Mus. RC 1996, c) cup by the Antiphon Painter (480 B.C.) in Compiègne, Musée Vivenel 1102. 28  Gericke 1970, 102. 29  Cf. a) Athens, National Archaeological Museum 12592, b) Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum 1063 (early 4th B.C.), c) Athens, Acropolis Museum 56ΝΑΚ232. 30  Malibu, Jean Paul Getty Museum L87.ΑΕ.120.2 / L87.AE.120.8. CVA Malibu (1) 56 (A.J. Clark). Kossatz-Deissmann 1991, 131. 31  For the motif of a lion attacking a bull, see Μüller, P. 1978. Löwen und Mischwesen in der archaischen griechischen Kunst: 168 ff., esp. 174 ff. For a brief overview of the theories concerning the influence of 22  23 

the sculptured pediments on Acropolis of the Archaic period on the introduction of the motif in vase-painting, see Oenbrink 1996: 102, note 140. S. also Venit, 2006: 32 ff. 32  For examples, see Oenbrink 1996, 101, note 136. 33  e.g. a) Palermo, Morm. Coll. 141. Giudice, F., Tusa, S. and Tusa, V. 1992. La collezione archeologica del Banco di Sicilia I: 180-1 fig.114-5; II, 76. D6, b) Malibu, PGM 75.ΑΕ.106. Greek Vases in the Jean Paul Getty Museum 6 (2000) 46-48, fig. 1A-C. S. also, P. Μüller op.cit. (note 31) 267 no. 243-245. 34  Usually on early one-piece amphoras. For examples, see Moore Philippides 1986: 100 no. 6 pl. 1, 104 no. 34 pl.5, 115 no.117 pl.13. 35  Vathy, Archaeological Museum Κ 898. For the type, see Caskey, L.D. - Beazley, J.D. 1954. Attic Vase-Paintings in the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston II: 96 no. 1. According to Oenbrink 1996: 105, note 105, the closest iconographic parallel is found on a lekythos by the Diosphos Painter (ca 500 B.C.) in Oxford, Ashmolean Museum 1935.42. 36  The motif of satyrs sneaking up on sleeping maenads is wellknown by a red-figured cup by Makron and other vases, see Caskey - Beazley 1954, op.cit. (note 35) 96 ff. no. 3-22, 24, 27, 29. This motif appears rarely on kraters by the end of the 5th c. B.C., cf. Caskey Beazley 1954, op.cit. (note 35) 97 no. 23, 25-26. S. also Oenbrink 1996: 105; Venit 2006: 35. 37  Tsonaka 2008: 251. 38  Kahil, L. 1963. ‘Quelques vases du sanctuaire d’ Artémis à Brauron,’. In Neue Ausgrabungen in Griechenland. AntK, Beiheft I: 25-6, no. 56, pl. 14, 3. S. also Venit 2006, 34. 39  Kahil 1963, op.cit. (note38) 20-33, pl. 7, 3-4. 40  Kahil 1963, op.cit. (note 38) pl. 7. 41  Antikenslg. no.A Lg 57. For the motif of the running Satyr, see Oenbrink 1996: 103, fig. 18, 107, no. Β2. 42  Lullies, R. 1979. In Berger, E. and Lullies, R. (eds), Antike Kunstwerke aus der Sammlung Ludwig I: 123 ff., no.45. 43  For examples, see Oenbrink 1996: 107, notes 174 and 175.


Konstantina Tsonaka – Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches

On the neck of a red-figured column krater attributed to the Circle of the Karkinos Painter (510/500 B.C.),44 a big volute krater is placed in the middle of a symposium scene. The body of the fictive vessel is decorated with the god Dionysos seated on a diphros holding rhyton and branches.45 The motif of the seated Dionysos is found on various shapes by the mid-6th and early 5th c. as well as in different variations.46 A close parallel is found on a contemporary black-figured column krater (510 B.C.).47 The only difference between the two scenes is that on the Basel krater the god turns his face towards a Satyr, who is also holding a rhyton. Moving to the next shape, as shown by a small number – in total 8 - of well-known vending scenes on pelikai, the pelike was used as a container of oil.48 The few preserved representations of the shape start in the last two decades of the 6 c. and go down to the middle of the 5th c. B.C. The strong correlation between the simulacrum and the bearer of the image is indicated by the fact that the pelikai, even though in a different context such as water supply or domestic use, appear mostly on pelikai.49 However, a different use of what we know about the pelike, that of the banquet vessel, is indicated in a unique, as far as I know, depiction of the shape in a symposium context. Side A of a column krater by a late Mannerist painter (ca 460 B.C.), in Madrid, Museo Arqueolâgico Nacional 1999.99.96, pictures a collection of utensils of symposium (Figure 8).50 These are, from left to right, an olpe, a skyphos, a pelike, a column krater and two skyphoi. The sympotic use of the shape is also reinforced by the iconography of the pelikai themselves – several pelikai dating in the first half of 5th c. B.C. are embellished with young komasts and satyrs holding various drinking vessels.

Melbourne, Christie’s. Oenbrink 1996: 103 fig. 19. For the outdoor symposium, see Kaeser 1992: 306-9. 45  For the motif of the seated Dionysos, see Oenbrink 1996: 106 ff. For the rhyton as attribut of the god Dionysos, see Carpenter, T.H. 1986. Dionysian Imagery in Archaic Greek Art: its Development in Black-figure Vase Painting: 117 ff. 46  Oenbrink 1996: 106-107. 47  Basel, priv. coll. 278. Basel, MuMAG 40 (1969) no.73. 48  Tsonaka 2008: 156 ff. cat. no. ΠΕ2, ΠΕ7, ΠΕ11, ΠΕ12. For vending scenes see Hatzidimitriou 2005. 49  Tsonaka 2008: 164-5, 167 cat. no. ΠΕ1, ΠΕ8, ΠΕ9. 50  Sánchez 2003, 297-8, no. 103. Neils 2004: 31, 116-8, no. 24.

Figure 3. Fragmentary black-figured column krater by Lydos. Malibu, Jean Paul Getty Museum L87.ΑΕ.120.2 / L87.AE.120.8 (from Venit 2006, pl. 7, 1)


Figure 4. Fragmentary black-figured column krater by Lydos. Malibu, Jean Paul Getty Museum L87.ΑΕ.120.2 / L87.AE.120.8 (from Venit 2006, pl. 7, 3)


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 6. Fragmentary krater. Brauron, Archeological Museum A 56 (from Venit 2006, pl. 6, 2) the name of the vase is conventional.55 Among its synonyms, the name ‘krossos’ or ‘krossion’ is already mentioned in tragic poetry for water use.56 In Suda the ‘krossos’ is found as a storage utensil of various liquids - synonym of the hydria as well as an urn.57 In the Hellenistic literature the krossos numbers among the water jars (‘ἀγγεῖα ὑδροφορικὰ›) and shares the same uses with the kalpis.58 In view of the fact that a name in antiquity could describe more than one shape, we could seriously consider the possibility that the krossos is - if not the original name - at least one of the ancient names of

Figure 5. Fragmentary amphora Type A by the Amasis Painter. Vathy, Archaeological Museum Κ 898 (from Venit 2006, pl. 8, 1) In her dissertation on the Attic stamnos, B. Philippaki has pointed out that stamnoi are represented exclusively on stamnoi - widely known as the ‘Lenaia vases’ - dating in the mid-5th c. B.C.51 Indeed, the shape is depicted on a total of 19 stamnoi.52 Still, there is an earlier representation of the shape on a red-figured lekythos attributed to the Circle of the Pan Painter (470 B.C.) in Berlin, Staatl. Mus. 1970.1 (Figure 9). The scene portrays a woman in front of a lion-spout leaning over a vase, which has been previously recognized as a hydria. The woman touches her head with her right hand, while with the left she holds the mouth of the vase. The movement of her right hand is ambiguous since there are no known iconographical parallels.53 As for the left hand, it has been claimed that she touches the vertical hand of the vase if it is indeed a hydria. To my opinion, a resemblance to a stamnos is more probable.54 If it is so, then we have not only the unique so far depiction of the stamnos on a different vasebearer but also an additional iconographical use of the shape - this of a water jar. This pictorial testimony becomes of great importance when associated to the suggestions made by scholars about the original name of the vase. As it is known,

Panofka, T. 1829. Recherches sur les véritables noms des vases grecs, has given first the name stamnos to the shape, which was soon rejected by the scholars. S. Letronne, J. A. 1833. Journal des Savants: 308 ff.; O. Jahn, Beschreibung xci, fn. 626. FR I, 83. On the issue of the nomenclature see also Amyx 1958: 190-195. 56  Aeschylus, Kabeiroi, frgm. 96, 1; Euripides, Ion, 1173; id, Cyclops, 89; id, Hypsipyle frgm. Ι, iv, v. 29. Sophocles, Oedipus at Colonus, 472 and 478, identifies the krater with the krossos. S. also Theognostus, 21, 10. 57  Suda, v. κρωσσός. ἡ ὑδρία, ἀγγεῖον ὑδροφορικόν. Και κρώσσιον ἡ στάμνος. Hesychius identifies the krossos with the hydria, stamnos and lekythos: ‘κρωσσοὶ, ὑδρίαι, στάμνοι, λήκυθοι›. Theognostus 21, 9: ‘Κρώσιον ἡ στάμνος›. Etym M 541, 30: ‘κρωσσός, ὑδρία ἤ τι ἄλλο ἄγγος εἰς τὸ ἐπιχεῖν ὕδωρ›. For the use of krossos as an urn, see Moschos, IV, 34. Pollux, Onomasticon, VIII, 66. Anthologia Palatina VII, 710. IX, 272. Letronne, J.A. 1833. Observations philologiques sur les noms des vases grecs: 11, considers that the name krossos derives from a special dialect used mostly, if not exclusively, by poets. In Plutarch, Aristides, 21 the krossos is mentioned as an oil-container. S. also, Anthologia Graeca I, 50 (Erinna’s epigram II, 1) και Anthologia Graeca I, 188 (Hegesippus’ epigram VI 8). Liddel-Scott v. κρωσσός. RE Suppl. VI (1935)v. κρωσσός 207 [v. Lorentz]. S. also, Tiverios 2005: 389 ff. 58  In Argonautica, Ι 1207, 1234, by Apollonius of Rhodes, Hylas, Hercules’ lover, is using a bronze kalpis to draw water from a fountain. The same episode is mentioned by two other Hellenistic poets, Theocritus, Idylls., ΧΙΙΙ, 46 κ.ε. and Lycophron, Alexandra, 1365, with the difference that a krossos is being used for this purpose and not a kalpis. The use of the kalpis as a water jar is testified also in the fifth hymn to Pallas (v. 47) by Kallimachos, while in a Nikarchos epigram is used for water drawing (Α.Π. ΙΧ 330, 4, Νικάρχου = Ι G-P). For the use of kalpis and krossos in written sources of Hellenistic times, see Μανακίδου, Φ.Π. 2004. ‘Η ονοματοθεσία των αγγείων μέσα από τις γραμματειακές πηγές›. In Δρούγου, Σ., Ζερβουδάκη Η., ΔουλγέρηΙντζεσίλογλου, Α. and Τουράτσογλου, Γ. (eds.), ΣΤ΄ Επιστημονική Συνάντηση για την Ελληνιστική Κεραμική, Βόλος 2000, Πρακτικά. 708 ff. Athens. 55 

Philippaki 1967: xx ff. Philippaki 1967: xviii, note 19. Between the depictions of stamnos mentioned by Philippaki 1967, there is a stamnos fragment by the Villa Giulia Painter in Florence, Museo Archeologico Nazionale 14 Β 6 (ARV² 621.38. CVA Florence (1) III.I.16, pl. 14.6), but there is no depiction of stamnos. S. Tsonaka 2008: 281 ff. 53  For the interpretation see CVA Berlin (8) 14-15, Beil. 2.2, pl.2.5-6, 3.1.4, where there are three hermeneutic possibilities: a) the woman has just left the ‘hydria’ on the ground and tides her hair, b) the woman tides her hair to place the vessel on the top of her head, c) she is looking for the ‘tyle’, the pad for the protection of the head. On the back of her left shoulder, an unidentified object can be detected, though not a ‘tyle’. 54  Let us note the similarities between our vase and the stamnos depicted on a stamnos in Adolphseck, Schloss Fasanerie 40, attributed to the Eupolis Painter (460 B.C.). CVA Adolphseck (1) 20, fig. 3-6, pl. 30.1-2; Tsonaka 2008: 287. 51  52 


Konstantina Tsonaka – Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches

Figure 7. Kalpis by the Nikoxenos Painter in Kassel, Antikenslg. A Lg 57 (from Venit 2006, pl. 5, 6)

Figure 8. Column krater by a late Mannerist painter. Madrid, Museo Arqueolâgico Nacional 1999.99.96 (from Sánchez 2003, 297-8, no. 103). the vase that we now call stamnos,59 a case which is further strengthened by the vase painting discussed above.

symposium scenes, the kylix appears simultaneously with its introduction in Attic Kerameikos, around 580-570 B.C..61 In early depictions, the vase is represented on tables or hanging

Even though kylix as a drinking cup is more popular than the skyphos, its representations in komos scenes, starting by 530 B.C., don’t exceed those of skyphos, which appear slightly after the middle of 6th c. B.C..60 Turning to the

is the most popular drinking cup in komos vase-paintings. But as it turns out from iconography, more common is the depiction of the kotyle. S. Tiverios, Μ. 2006. ‘Η αθανασία του Μέμνονος›. In Κούντουρα, Ε. et al. (eds), Χρύσανθος Χρήστου, αφιέρωμα: 117, note 3 (with bibliography). Thessaloniki. 61  For the shape of kylix, see Bloesch 1940. For depictions of kylix, see Tsonaka, 2008: 430 ff.

For the possibility that the krossos (κρωσσός) is the real name of stamnos, see also Tiverios 2005: 389 ff. 60  Tsonaka 2008: 465 ff. Scheibler 2000: 27, observes that the skyphos 59 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

favorable drinking-cups, mostly after 520 B.C. in vasepaintings picturing the kottabos game.64 In some cases, specific types of kylikes can be recognized. On a black-figured stamnos by the Michigan Painter (ca 500 B.C.) in Los Angeles, County Museum 50.8.2 (Α 5933.50-8), a komast is holding an incised eye-cup.65 On a red-figured kylix by the Antiphon Painter (490 B.C.) in Munich, Antikensammlung 2635, one of the symposiasts is holding a kylix, whose rim, handles and foot are painted black. It has been argued that this decoration resembles the earlier kylikes of Type Gordion of the mid-6th c. B.C. or the following banded ones.66 However, this way of decoration is found on subsequent types of kylikes, such as on kylikes painted by the Theseus Painter.67 The kylikes of Type Acrocup with shallow body are depicted on a symposium scene of a cup by the Foundry Painter in Boston, MFA 01.8034.68 The same type appears on a cup in London, BM E 49 by Douris, who favored the depiction of kylix.69 There the participants drink also from Acrocups, however the distinctive plastic ring at the junction of the foot to the body is missing. On what skyphos concerned, the few black-figured depictions of the vase start around 570-560 B.C.70 In red-figure vasepainting the shape becomes very popular. Notable is that the skyphos, when painted, is usually found within religious episodes. Two kylikes attributed to Makron (490/80 B.C.) are decorated with dancing Maenads.71 One of them holds a skyphos painted with a dancing (?) Satyr in silhouette set between two painted palmettes. Both the shape and the decoration of the depicted vase point to earlier types of skyphoi dating in the late 6th c. B.C. The decoration of the rim of the Berlin skyphos with inverted ivy leaves has been recognized as a reminiscent of the Heron-Class skyphoi.72 On a fragmentary cup attributed to the Würzburg 487 Painter a symposiast holds a black skyphos of type A with a reserved band between the handles.73 The decoration of the vase recalls similar examples from the Athenian Agora ranging from the sub-geometric period to the end of the 5th c. B.C.74 Although the kantharos never enjoyed great popularity among Athenian potters, there is an abundant number of depictions of the shape in Attic imagery, which begin Hoesch 1992b: 272-75. Csapo, E. – Miller, M. 1991. ‘The kottabostoast and an inscribed red-figured cup.’ Hesperia 60: 367-82. For examples in Attic vase-painting, see Tsonaka 2008: 436. 65  CVA Los Angeles (1) 16-18, pl. 14.1-4, 15.1-4. 66  Oenbrink 1996: 127-128. 67  Cf. cup of the Theseus Painter in Heidelberg, Antikenmuseum und Abgusssammlung des Archäologischen Instituts der Universität S 99. Fritzilas, S. 2006. Ο Ζωγράφος του Θησέα. Η Αττική Αγγειογραφία στην εποχή της νεοσύστατης Αθηναϊκής Δημοκρατίας: 196, cat. no. 372 pl. 112.372 fig. 114. Athens. 68  Boston, Museum of Fine Arts 01.8034. About Acrocup cup, see Bloesch 1940. 141-144. Beazley, J.D. 1940. Potter and Painter: 22-23, 6667. 69  London, British Museum E49. Buitron-Oliver, D.M. 1995. Douris. A Master-Painter of Athenian Red-Figure Vases: 78 no. 96, pl. 62. Mainz. 70  For depictions of skyphos, see Tsonaka 2008: 465 ff. 71  a) Centre Island, N.Y, priv. coll. Kunisch, N. 1997. Makron: 198 no. 348, pl. 118, b) Berlin, Staatliche Museen F 2290 + Villa Giulia without no. Kunisch, N. 1997. Makron: 197-8, no. 345, pl. 117. 72  Scheibler 2000: 18, note 8; Moore – Philippides 1986: no. 1532 (P 23333), pl. 103. 73  Amsterdam, Allard Pierson Museum 2290+2291. 74  Cf. Sparkes - Talcott 1970: 87, pl. 17.374. 64 

Figure 9. Lekythos attributed to the Circle of the Pan Painter. Berlin, Staatl. Mus. 1970.1 (from CVA Berlin, Antikenmuseum 8, 14-15, Beil. 2.2, pl.2.5-6, 3.1.4) on the wall,62 while from 530/520 B.C. the participants in the symposium are represented with kylikes in their hands.63 In red-figure representations, the kylix is one of the most Cf. black-figured column krater (580-570 B.C.) in Paris, Louvre Ε 623, with depictions of Sianna cups. The same type of cup is placed on tables in symposium context on two Sianna cups (560-550 B.C.) by the Heidelberg Painter, the first in Taranto, Mus. Naz. 110339 and the second in Pesaro, Moccia coll. 63  Cf. volute krater (525-500 B.C.) in Moscow, Pushkin State Museum of Fine Arts M-1266. 62 


Konstantina Tsonaka – Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches

shortly after its introduction, around 585-580 B.C.75 On symposium scenes, starting by the last quarter of 6th c. B.C., the kantharos becomes the favorite drinking cup of god Dionysos, while less often the god holds a kylix or a skyphos.76 From the rest of the Olympian gods, only Athena holds a kantharos in a unique depiction. On side A of a black-figured fragmentary psykter by the Toronto 305 Group (510 B.C.) in Leipzig, Univ. Τ 4217, Hercules, Athena, Hermes and Dionysos are engaged in a symposium. The three of them - Hercules, Athena, Dionysos - hold kantharos, but the kantharos of the goddess is of Type C. Here the fictive vessel antedates the real pot, since the production of the type starts from the early 5th c. and onwards. Another two similar examples where the depicted kantharos predate the ceramic examples are found on side B of a black-figured eye-cup attributed to the Walters Group 48.42 (520-510 B.C.) in Dallas, MFA 1972.5,77 and on the tondo of a red-figured kylix by the Epidromos Painter (510-500 B.C.) in Berlin, Staatl. Mus. 3232.78 On both representations, Hercules is holding a kantharos of Type C. Besides kantharos, some types of oinochoe are depicted shortly before the preserved ceramic examples.79 The earliest depiction of oinochoe Type 5b, whose production started in the second quarter of 5th c., is found on Figure 10. Neck-amphora by the Munich 1410 Painter. New York, ΜΜΑ 98.8.14 (G.R. 533) side B of a red-figured kylix by Python (from CVA New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art 4, 16-18, pl. 20.1-4) and Epiktetos (510 B.C.) in London, Brit. Mus. Ε 38.80 Although the foot of the depicted oinochoe is not preserved, it is rather identifiable 10 pouring wine into the kylix of a warrior (Figure 10).82 This with an oinochoe Type 5b. Another example is found on earlier depiction of the type is of interest, since the preserved a red-figured kylix fragment attributed to the Euergides ceramic examples of the type are very few and begin in the Painter (520-510 B.C.) in Boston, MFA 10.214, where a young end of 6th c. B.C. man holding an oinochoe probably of Type 5a is leaning over a lekane next to a louterion.81 The production of this type The Attic imagery of Archaic and Classical periods includes lasts from the first quarter of 5th c. to 410 B.C., therefore the thousands of more depictions of vases, whether as an fictive vessel mentioned here precedes the real pot. Finally, a embedded part of a larger episode or occasionally the main departure scene on Side A of a black-figured neck-amphora decorative scene. Their presence and use in various scenes by the Munich 1410 Painter (ca 520 B.C.) in New York, ΜΜΑ of public and private life, some of which were mentioned 98.8.14 (G.R. 533), pictures a woman with an oinochoe Type in this paper, help us to understand both the context in which they were used and the whole meaning of the image. Furthermore, it provides us with fruitful information in terms 75  of the simulacrum itself. The frequency distribution of the For the shape, see Richter - Milne 1935: 25, figs 167-169. For depictions of the shape, Tsonaka 2008: 379 ff., esp. 383 ff. fictive vessels in Attic imagery according to the shapes they 76  Tsonaka 2008: 413 ff. embellish reveals a strong correlation between the depicted 77  Shapiro, H. (ed.) 1981. Art, Myth and Culture, Greek Vases from Southern vase and the one carrying the image in cases where the first Collections: 75, no.28. Tulane. 78  reiterates the second, intensifying the content of the image. CVA Berlin, Antiquarium 2, 19, figs.3-4, pls. 63.1-2, 66.1; CVA Berlin, But even when it does not, there is still a preference to similar Antiquarium 3, 19, pl. 124.3.7. 79  For depictions of oenochoe in Attic vase-painting, see Tsonaka utensils as carriers of the image. 2008: 306 ff. 80  ARV² 72.16, 1623. Para 328. Addenda² 167. 81  ARV² 94.103. Caskey, L. and Beazley, J.D. 1931-63. Attic Vase Paintings in The Museum of Fine Arts, Boston: pl. 3.12.

ABV 311.6, 693. Addenda² 84. CVA New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art 4, 16-18, pl. 20.1-4. 82 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


Kanowski, M.G. 1984. Containers of Classical Greece. A Handbook of Shapes. St. Lucia, Queensland: University of Queensland Press. Kossatz-Deissmann, A. 1991. ‘Satyr- und Mänadennamen auf Vasenbildern des Getty-Museums und der Sammlung Cahn (Basel), mit Addenda zu Charlotte Fränkel, Satyrund Bakchennamen auf Vasenbildern (Halle, 1912)’. In True, M. (ed.) Greek Vases in the J. Paul Getty Museum, 5, Occasional Papers on Antiquities, 7: 131. Malibu, California: J. Paul Getty Museum. Moore, M.B. 1970. Attic Red-Figured and White-ground Pottery. The Athenian Agora XXX, Princeton N.J.: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Langner, M. 2014, ‘Where we should place the Krater? An Optimitic Reconstruction of the Vessel’s Visibility during the Symposion’. In Avramidou, A. – Demetriou, D. (eds). Approaching the Ancient Artifact. Representation, Narrative, and Function. A Festschrift in Honor of H. Alan Shapiro. 385-98. Berlin: W. De Gruyter. Lissarrague, F. 1990a. The Aesthetics of the Greek Banquet. Princeton N.J.: Princeton University Press. Lisssarrague, F. 1990b. ‘Around the Krater. An Aspect of Banquet Imagery’. In Murray, O. (ed.). Sympotica: a symposium on the symposion. Oxford: Oxford University Press.: 196-209. Moore, M. B. - Philippides, M. Z. P. 1986. Attic Black-Figured Pottery. The Athenian Agora XXIII, Princeton N.J.: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Murray, O. – Tecuşan, M. 1995. In vino veritas. London: British School at Rome in association with American Academy at Rome. Neils, J. 2004. ‘Vases on Vases’. In Warden, Gregory P. (ed.) 2004. Greek Vase Painting. Form, Figure & Narrative. Treasures of the National Museum in Madrid: 116 -8, no. 24. Dallas: Meadows Museum, Southern Methodist University Press. Oenbrink, W. 1996. ‘Ein Bild-im-Bild Phanomen. Zur darstellung figürlich dekorierter Vasen auf bemalten attischen Tongefässen’. Hephaistos 14: 81-134. Philippaki, B. 1967, The Attic Stamnos. Oxford: Clarendon Press. Sánchez C. 2003 ‘Cratera de columnas con la vajilla del simposio’. In Bonet, P. C. (ed.) La colleción Várez Fisa en el Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Septiembre-Noviembre 2003. Madrid: Ministerio de Educacion, Cultura y Deporte, Direccion General de Bellas Artes y Bienes Culturales. Scheibler, I. 2000. ‘Attische Skyphoi für attische Feste’, AntK 43: 17-43. Schleiffenbaum, E. 1991. Der griechische Volutenkrater. Form, Funktion und Sinngehalt eines antiken Prunkgefässes. Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang. Sparkes, B. A. –Talcott, L. 1970. Black and Plain Pottery of the 6th, 5th and 4th cent. B.C. The Athenian Agora XII, Princeton N.J.: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Steingräber, S. 2006. Les fresques étrusques. Citadelles et Mazenod. Paris. Τιβέριος, Μ. 1988. Προβλήματα της Μελανόμορφης Αττικής Κεραμικής. Thessaloniki: Aristotle University of Thessaloniki. Τιβέριος, Μ. 1989. Περίκλεια Παναθήναια. Ένας κρατήρας του Ζ. του Μονάχου 2335. Thessaloniki: Andromeda Books. Tiverios, M. 2005. ‘Zur Ikonographie der weiblichen Welt im Zeitalter des Perikles’. In Th. Ganshow - M. Steinhart (eds.) OTIUM. Festschrift für Volker Michael Strocka: 389 ff. Remshalden: Greiner.

Amyx, D. A. 1958. ‘The Attic Stelai, Part III’. Hesperia 27. 163310. Bakir, T. 1974. Der Kolonettenkrater in Korinth und Attika zwischen 625 und 500 v.Chr. Würzburg: K. Triltsch. Bloesch, H. 1940. Formen Attischer Schalen von Exekias bis zum Ende des strengen Stils. Bern-Bümpliz: Benteli A.-G. Dickmann, J.-A. and Heinemann, A. (eds.) 2015. Vom Trinken und Bechern: Das antike Gelage im Umbruch. Freiburg: Archäologische Sammlung der Albert-LudwigsUniversität Freiburg. Frank, S. 1990, Attische Kelchkratere: eine Untersuchung zum Zusammenspiel von Gefässform und Bemalung. Frankfurt am Main; New York: P. Lang. Gericke, H. 1970. Gefässdarstellungen auf Griechischen Vasen. Berlin: B. Hessling. Gossel-Raeck, B. 1992a. ‘Das Symposion – Ein Beispiel’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 216-21. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Gossel-Raeck, B. 1992b. ‘Bilder vom Symposion’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 222-27. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Gossel-Raeck, B. 1992c. ‘Komos – Tanz des Zecher’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 289-92. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Gossel-Raeck, B. 1992d. ‘Komos – Bürger ziehen durch die Nacht’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 293-98. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Gossel-Raeck, B. 1992e. ‘Komos – Tanz um den Krater’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 299-302. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Hammdorf, F. W. 1992. ‘Musik und Symposion’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 238-46. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Hatzidimitriou, A. 2005. Παραστάσεις εργαστηρίων και εμπορίου στην εικονογραφία των αρχαϊκών και κλασικών χρόνων. Athens: Τ.Α.Π.Α. Hinkel, H. 1967. Der giessener Kelchkrater. Giessen. Diss. Hitzl, K. 1982. Die Entstehung und Entwicklung des Volutenkraters von den frühesten Anfängen bis zur Ausprägung des kanonischen Stils in der attisch schwarzfigurigen Vasenmalerei. Frankfurt am Main: P. Lang. Hoesch, N. 1992a. ‘Der Schöneknabe’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 235-37. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Hoesch, N. 1992b. ‘Das Kottabosspiel’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 272-75. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen. Huber, K. 2000. The Attic Calyx-Krater from 530-440 B.C. A Study of Shapes and Ornaments. Kilchberg, Zurich: Akanthus. Kaeser, B. 1992. ‘Symposion im Freien’. In Vierneisel, K. and Kaeser, B. (eds.) 1992. Kunst der Schale – Kultur des Trinkens. Ausstellungskatalog München: 306-9. 2nd ed. München: Antikensammlungen.


Konstantina Tsonaka – Vases on Vases: An Overview of Approaches

Τσονάκα, Κ. 2008. Χρήσεις αττικών αγγείων κατά τους αρχαϊκούς και κλασικούς χρόνους με βάση την εικονογραφική και γραπτή παράδοση (unpublished thesis, Aristotle University of Thessaloniki). Thessaloniki. Topper, K. 2012. The imagery of the Athenian symposium. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Tsingarida, A. 2009 (ed.), Shapes and Uses of Greek vases (7th – 4th centuries B.C.). Proceedings of the Symposium held at the Université Libre de Bruxelles, 27-29 April 2006. Bruxelles: CReA-Patrimoine. Venit, M.S. 2006. ‘Point and Counterpoint. Painted Vases on Attic Painted Vases’. AntK 49: 29–41, pls 5–10.


Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded Daniela Freitas Ferreira1 first group of the kind in Portugal, this collection includes an abundant array of artistic pieces, but also ancient and modern arms, as well as natural and numismatic curiosities. The extensive diversity of these pieces displays the multiplicity of interests of João Allen.3 Moreover, his collection is representative of the time of its compilation, where objects of Classical archaeology took centre stage in private European collections.

In Defence of the Collector1 Since its origins, the history of many museums has gone handin-hand with the history of private collectors, benefiting from the contribution of numerous and distinguished enthusiasts of art and antiquities. This alliance has resulted in the preservation and exposition of artistically and historically relevant collections, including Greek vases - objects that stir curiosity and interest objects that have long stirred curiosity and interest.

The Greek vases of this collection have already been thoroughly studied by Maria Helena da Rocha Pereira and Rui Morais, both proposing hypotheses on how we should classify the vases of this collection, presented in an descriptive catalogue.4 However, the sometimes tumultuous trajectory of the collection, as well as the absence of a comprehensive item inventory, created understandable doubts concerning the origin of some pieces.

This paper suggests a more profound understanding of two of those pieces, a simultaneous expression of art and history. The two greek vases analysed are part of the collection belonging to the Câmara Municipal do Porto. Kept in Soares dos Reis National Museum (Porto, Portugal) since 1937, at least one of these intriguing objects resulted from the integration into the public domain of the private collection pertaining to the diplomat and merchant João Allen.2 Besides seventeen Greek vases, the

Facing the lack of undeniable proof that could guarantee their origin, the analysis of the sealing wax from several

Figure 1. Seal of the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies (Photo: Courtesy of Soares dos Reis National Museum). Complutense University of Madrid. UI&D CITCEM - Transdisciplinary Research Centre ‘Culture, Space and Memory’. 2  Santos 2005; Almeida 2008: 72-82. 1 

3  4 


Almeida 2006: 352-353. Pereira; Morais; Machado 2008: 44-73.

Daniela Freitas Ferreira – Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded

vases of the collection has been used as criteria to assure their provenance.5 These seals, which sends us back to the Kingdom of the Two Sicilies, indicates the place where they were acquired, suggesting that all elements were obtained at the same time and in the same context.6

he commissioned several pieces. These pieces combined his inclination for classical antiquity with the acquisition of artwork from modern artists. Twenty years later, in 1845, Allen embarked on a new journey to Europe, although there is no record of his aquiring any new pieces.10

Unfortunately, the poor preservation of the seal present in some pieces does not always allow us to confirm its origin. This is the case of a high foot vase, produced using the blackglazed technique, and proven to be an Attic production. Without accurate records of it acquisition, this piece was kept as part of the small collection of Greek vases of the Soares dos Reis National Museum, as the only piece of Greek origin unpublished until the present time.

João Allen’s passion for gathering ‘collectible’ objects reaches its peak in 1836, with the creation of a museum dedicated to the exhibition of artwork, natural curiosities, numismatic items and classic antiquities which he had acquired and maintained, until then, in his private residence, safe from the disturbing military events of the period. The museum, similarly to many others from the same time, had an encyclopaedic nature, comprising a panoply of curiosities, from the artistic, to the biological, geological, and technical, all unified under the common theme of uniqueness

The analysis and classification of this new element was accompanied by a renewed understanding of the whole Greek vase collection, under the supervision of one of the researchers who first studied and classified them (R.M).7 Such a review allowed for a new examination of one of the vases and the rectification of its painter and, consequently, of the information regarding its origin and chronology. This was the case of a red-figured skyphos, that deserves particular mention. In the last portion of the paper, we would like to propose a classification of this particular vase in addition to providing parallels in shape and decoration.

The years that followed the creation of the Allen Museum were equally devoted to the enrichment of his collection, confirmed by recurring shipments of cultural goods and documented by letters, purchase receipts and other types of registries.11 In a period when the collecting practice had not gained a major cultural relevance in Portugal, the enormous impact brought by the Allen Museum awarded him, in 1839, the title of Honorary Academic by the Academia de Belas-Artes de Lisboa, as well as assured the public recognition of his endeavour and his patronage of the arts and preservation of European patrimony.

A Collector’s Odyssey: From João Allen to Soares dos Reis Nacional Museum. We owe João Allen, and his enthusiasm for collecting, the acquisition and preservation of the Greek vases that currently integrate the Soares dos Reis National Museum collection. Descendant from English ancestors settled in Portugal since the beginning of the 18th century, João Francisco Allen made his fortune exporting and dealing with Port wine businesses in Oporto and Gaia, in a particularly difficult period, during the French invasions in the country, the civil war and the subsequent cycle of economic decay.8 He became an illustrious man of culture, investing his fortune in establishing a peerless library and gathering collections as diverse as his interests.9

In 1849, the Allen Museum’s collection was converted to municipal heritage, as a result of public subscription from the most illustrious and important members of Porto society, aiming to guarantee the public acquisition of the collection and the creation of a museum. The deal was concluded in 1850, and led to the creation of the Museu Municipal do Porto, closing in 1940, due to the museological policy of the Estado Novo.12 Allen’s collection was then transferred to Soares dos Reis National Museum, contributing to the development and prestige of that institution. The Collection of Greek Vases

His ancestry and sociocultural background, associated with a context of intellectual renewal felt all across Europe, was characterised by a reawakened interest in antiquity and classical authors, and a taste for artistic and cultural heritage. These influences lead him to join the Italian ‘Grand Tour’, a mainly didactic journey which led him to visit the famous ruins of Pompeii and Herculaneum. His first visit, which occurred between September 1826 and May 1827, triggered a fascination for archaeological remains and his interest for the neoclassical that went on to characterise his collection. It is during this journey that Allen acquired a great part of his numismatic pieces, and among these, the set of Greek vases. While in Rome, he became involved in artistic circles and established a relationship with several painters, from whom

Faithfull to its encyclopaedic nature, the Allen Museum included a small archaeology collection formed by Greek and Roman antiques and a few Etruscan and Egyptian objects. His interests in Classical Culture incorporate his passion for Greek vases, although, apparently, they are not too praised in the references made by Allen about his own collection. In the inventory lists which accompanied the collectible objects, there are only two references to Greek vases. One of the inventories, conducted for reasons of academic appraisal, includes the following comments: ‘[Exhibited in rooms one and two of Allen Museum] (…) 3 lamps and 2 small clay vases (?), from Pompeii excavations (…)[and] 15 vases, lamps, etc., taken from excavations in Pompeii and some found in Portugal. ‘ In ‘Inventário de História Natural e Curiosidades pertencentes ao Museu Allen’, by Joaquim de Santa Clara Sousa Pinto,

Pereira; Morais; Machado 2008: 35-36. In figure 1 it is possible to see an example of this seal placed in a red-figured skyphos, mentioned and studied in the second part of this work. 7  To whom we are thankful for their prompt and dedicated collaboration. 8  Almeida 2008: 72-82. 9  Almeida 2006: 352-353. 5  6 

Santos 2005. Santos 2005. 12  Almeida 2008: 72-82. 10  11 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

José Vitorino Damásio and José António de Aguiar, 1st October 1846 - Arquivo Histórico Municipal do Porto, 1178.

or nuts/dried fruit.16 Appearing simultaneously in smaller and larger sizes, it is possible that the smaller dishes have been progressively replaced by small bowls and saltcellars, which have became increasingly popular as the use of stemmed dishes decreased.17

A second reference, the only one made by João Allen in a letter to Georges Huzon, regarding the three boxes containing objects acquired in Napoli and sent to Porto, mention:

Based on small variations as regards the shape, it is possible to identify four major typological categories simultaneously manufactured: ‘convex and large’; ‘convex and small’; ‘concave lip’ and ‘chalice shape’.18

‘ (…) and it also brought some small antique vases and Greek and Roman copper medals and a collection of Napoli’s landscapes (…)’. In ‘Rascunho da carta enviada por João Allen ao seu correspondente em Roma’, January 1828 (apud Santos 2005: 199).

The first type is known for its large and hollow bowl standing on a short and thick foot that progressively enlarges until the bottom. The foot’s exterior surface, as well as the supporting surface, are commonly left without glaze (reserved). The same happens with the exterior surface of the bottom, in some cases decorated with a small concentric circle and a central point in glaze. The vase from the collection of Soares dos Reis Museum belongs to this major group, which includes the larger number of stemmed dishes. Its most similar equivalent, in regard of shape, is the nº 962 from Agora of Athens, from the second quarter of the 5th century B.C. .19 Both have a high, almost vertical, foot and a ledged frame close to the rim, on the exterior surface of the piece.

Despite the limited information obtained from these references, it is evident that all the objects were of a small size and a wide variety of shapes, implying that João Allen was looking for diverse and representative examples instead of a specific type.. The collection includes eight decorated vases with emphasis given to the decoration composed by human, vegetable and geometric figures; and seven plain and embossed vases. It is also part of the collection a blackglazed guttus, decorated with a female head. These pieces are productions from South Italy, Gnathia type, and date between the fourth and third century B.C..13

The pieces belonging to this group have extremely similar characteristics and only a few distinguishing elements, that might be used as chronological markers. The rim profile is one of those elements. In the first period of production, the rim is preferably tapered. Afterwards, the rim becomes progressively thicker and lowered, just as the vase from the Allen collection. In a later period, an incised groove appears under this thickened rim. That groove may be reserved or covered with glaze. In its last stage of production, the rim’s thickening disappears and only the groove remains.

One of these Things are Not Like the Others: The Stemmed Dish It is part of the small collection of Greek vases of Soares dos Reis National Museum a high foot black-glazed dish proved to be an Attic production, as demonstrated by the good quality of the glaze: thick, very adherent and bright, with some metallic reflections and some greyish areas, both on interior and exterior surfaces. The clay, slightly purified with orange and reddish colour, displays tiny particles of mica.

The inventory lists which accompanied the Greek collection of João Allen, indicate the presence of pieces found in Portuguese territory.20 This can be the case, although not proven, of the stemmed dish previously mentioned, considering its Attic production origin and perceivable differences from all the other vases that integrate the collection. Despite the fact that no such shaped dishes were recovered in Portugal, there is a very similar dish found in the excavations of Neapolis (Empuries, Spain).21 It bears the same diameter and thickened rim but the trunk is slightly narrower.

The shape of the vase, commonly referred to as a ‘stemmed dish’,14 is characterised by a slightly profound convex body and the absence of handles. Only the upper structure of the piece and part of the foot are preserved. The foot gradually extends to the bottom and the rim is plain, with a ledged frame on the exterior surface. The largest set of pieces from this typology has been found in the Agora of Athens. This discovery made it possible to understand their chronology and to pick out several shape variations. Through gathered archaeological data, we know that stemmed dishes reached their peak production between the end of the 4th century B.C. and the second quarter of the 5th century B.C. After that, its use almost disappeared, with only a few small sized pieces appearing in later contexts.15

Other parallels for this shape can be found, for example, in funerary contexts in Bologna, dated from the mid/second quarter of the 5th century.22 Other equivalents are also found in a wide variety of archaeological contexts and museums, presented in Roberts, 1986,23 from 500-480 B.C.; Jacquemin A second possibility suggests it was used as pyxides, an exclusively valid hypothesis in the case of plates presenting reserved rims. (Ibidem: 138-139). 17  Ibidem. 18  Sparkes & Talcott 1970: 138-142. 19  Ibidem. 20  Vide supra ‘ […] taken from excavations in Pompeii and some found in Portugal. ‘ 21  Rouillard 1991: fig. 14, nº 4. 22  Govi, 1999: 108-122, 185. With many similarities to the pieces nº 96 and nº 99, out of a set of 19 ‘convex and large’ type of stemmed dishes. 23  P. 53, pic. 35, nº 358-361.

It is not known, however, what they were used for, even if the larger ones might have been used as plates to serve fresh fruit


In addition to the Greek vessels, the collection is complemented by a lamp, a terracotta and a copy of a Greek vase (Pereira et al 2008: 44-74). 14  Sparkes & Talcott 1970: 138. Occasionally referred to as ‘stemmed bowl’, in some material inventories. 15  Ibidem. 13 


Daniela Freitas Ferreira – Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded

Figure 2. Top view of the Stemmed Dish.

Figure 3. Bottom view of the Stemmed Dish. It is possible to identify the broken foot as well as the seal presented in several pieces from this collection.

Figure 4. Stemmed Dish from the Soares dos Reis Nacional Museum.

Figure 5. Drawing of the stemmed dish found in the excavations of Neapolis (Empuries, Spain). Rouillard 1991: fig. 14, nº 4.

& Maffre, 1986,24 from 500-460 B.C.; Miles 1998,25 from approximately 550 B.C.; and Ashmolean Museum, 1967,26 the latter with a reserved line between the lip and the rim, dated from the 5th century B.C. A Red-Figured Vessel in the Style of Sydney Painter A red figure skyphos of note is also part of John Allen’s collection. A new analysis of this piece was carried out which allowed for the correct attribution of the painter in addition to providing analogues for its shape and decoration. Firstly, it is key to classify the diacritical, that is, differentiating, decorative features visible in the painter’s hand. On the two faces (A and B) there is a female human figure, dressed in a peplos straightened in the waist. Both figures display profiled heads and a three-quarters body. They are bare footed, in a position of movement and with open arms. On face A, the woman is turned to the left and, in each hand, holds a long branch, drawn vertically. On face B, the figure is turned to the right and her hands are empty and open. These human

Figure 6. Red-figured Skyphos from the Allen collection. representations are delimited, on their sides, by stylized floral elements associated with spirals and settled in a reserved band. Previous analysis of this vase27 suggested resemblances between this piece and the work of the Kassel Bowl Painter,28 pointing out similarities in the head and fingers from the

P. 198, nº VI. 10, pic. 24. P. 127, nº 396. 26  P. 113, nº 424, 425, pl. LIX. 24  25 

27  28 


Pereira et al 2008: 46-47. Trendall & Cambitoglou 1978-82: pl. 265, 12.

Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. Red-figured skyphos from the Allen collection, Face A.

Figure 8. Red-figured skyphos from the Allen collection, Face B.


Daniela Freitas Ferreira – Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded

through lines which form an acute angle, complemented with a line that touches its extremities and shapes the pupil. The hair is a completely black spot, tied in the back upper part of the head. Another similarity is the frequent use of the incision technique to indicate and enhance anatomic details from the faces and bodies, as well as decorative patterns of the clothes and drapery. The incisions are commonly highlighted by the superposition of extremely watery painted lines, in black lacquer, meticulously drawn with a fine-tipped paintbrush. Regarding the stylistic characteristics, a strong similarity in the position of the female figures, drapery aesthetics, representation of the breasts and vegetal motives has been identified in Pontrandolfo & Rouveret 1992: 365-366, nº 2.31 It is a lebes gamikòs, identified in a female’s grave from the mid 380/370 B.C. and also attributed to the style of the Sydney Painter. The same stylistic characteristics are presented in Pontrandolfo & Rouveret: 317, nº 6;32 Pontrandolfo & Rouveret: 349, nº 8, prominence given to the similarity regarding the vegetable motives on the sides of the piece; in Pontrandolfo & Rouveret: 354-355, nº 6;33 Pontrandolfo & Rouveret: 379, nº 5;34 the latter belonging to the calligraphic period of the above mentioned painter.

Figure 9. Stylistic characteristics: anatomic details.

Despite the large variety of objects held in the female’s hands, it is important Figure 10. Use of the incision technique to indicate and enhance decorative patterns of the to underline the drawing of a vertical clothes and drapery. branch analogous to the one represented in the Allen collection vase, in a redfigured hydria equally attributed to the style of the Sydney Parrih Painter, Campania style .29 The stylistic characteristics Painter presented in Pontrandolfo & Rouveret 1992: 308, nº 7. of the decoration resemble, however, some features from works attributed to the style of the Sydney Painter.30 Such pieces were found in females’ graves in Paestum, dated from Based on the abundant evidence, it is safe to assume that the first quarter of the 4th century B.C. the vase from Allen’s collection should be chronologically attributed to the first quarter of the 4th century B.C. In both cases, as in the Allen collection skyphos, the clothes are ornamented with fold lines, particularly in the female’s Acknowledgement shoulders and in the lower part of the drapery, being similar and straight over a stretched leg and curved over a bent leg. I am grateful to Soares dos Reis National Museum for allowing Equally similar is the representation of short lines immediately the publication of two pieces from its collection and to Ana above the element that straightens the waist. Likewise, the Paula Machado for their generous assistance. I would also depiction of one of the breasts assumes a round shape and is like to acknowledge the incentive and support of Rui Morais, complemented by a small incise centred circle, representing to whom I am in debt for introducing me to the theme of the nipple. The second breast is suggested by radial lines that Greek vases and in these particular pieces of Soares dos Reis provide it a more elongated shape. Similarly to what happens Nacional Museum. Finally, I would like to thank F. Costa Vaz in the pieces attributed to the style of the Sydney Painter, in for the spelling revision. the skyphos from the Allen collection, the eyes are represented = Trendall 1987, Group B, nº 149. = Trendall 1987, Group A, nº 16. 33  = Trendall 1987, Group B, nº 163. 34  = Trendall 1987, Group A, nº 68. 31 

Trendall 1967: pl. 101, 1. 30  Trendall 1987: 379, pl. 238, Grupo B, nº 131 e 126 = Pontrandolfo & Rouveret 1992: 361-362, nº 7. 29 



Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Fgure 11. Parallels for the stylistic and technique execution. In the style of Sidney Painter Sydney (Trendall 1987).

Figure 12. Parallels for the stylistic and technique execution. In the style of Sydney Painter. (Pontrandolfo & Rouveret 1992).


Daniela Freitas Ferreira – Intriguing Objects of Desire: Collecting Greek Vases, a Short History Unfolded


Pontrandolfo, A.; Rouveret, A. 1992. Le tombe dipinte di Paestum. Franco Cosimo Panini Editore. Roberts, S. R. 1986. The Stoa Gutter well: A Late Archaic Deposit in the Athenian Agora, In Hesperia 55: 53, nº 358361. Rouillard, P. 1991. Les Grecs et la Péninsule Ibérique du VIIIe au IVe siècle avant Jésus.Christ. Paris: diff. De Boccard (Publ. Du Centre Pierre Paris). Santos, P. M. M. L. 2005. Um colecionador do Porto românico João Allen (1781-1848). Porto: Imprensa Portuguesa. Sparkes, A. B. & Talcott, L. 1970. The Athenian Agora, Black and Plain Pottery of the 6th, 5th and 4th Centuries B.C. Volume XII. Princeton, New Jersey: The American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Trendall, A. D. 1967. The Red-figure Vases of Lucania, Campania and Sicily. Oxford: Clarendon Press, pl. 101, 1 Trendall, A.D. 1987. The red-figured vases of Paestum. British School at Rome. Trendall, A. D. & Cambitoglou, A. 1978-82. The Red-Figured Vases of Apulia. Oxford: Clarendon Press; New York: Oxford University Press, vol. II, pl. 265, 12.

Almeida, A. P. 2006. Os museus do liberalismo no Porto. In Tripeiro, 7ª Série, ano XXV, Número II: 352-353. Almeida, A. P. 2008. Museu Munucipal do Porto. Das Origens à sua Extinção (1836-1940). Dissertação apresentada à Faculdade de Letras da Universidade do Porto. Ashmolean Museum, M. B. & Beazley, J. D. 1967. Select Exhibition of Sir John and Lady Beazley’s Gifts to the Ashmolean Museum 19121966. London: Oxford University Press: 113, nº 424, 425, pl. LIX. Govi, E. 1999. Le ceramiche Attiche a Vernice Nera di Bologna. Bologna: University Press Bologna, Museo Civico Archaelogico di Bologna, pl. 14-98. Jacquemin, A. & Maffre, J. J. 1986. Nouveaux vases grecs de la Collection Zénon Piéridès à Larnaca. In Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique, vol. 110, Núm.1 (1986): 198, IV, nº 10, fig. 24. Miles, M. 1998. The Athenian Agora, The City Eleusinion, Vol. 31. Princeton, New Jersey: American School of Classical Studies at Athens. Pereira, M.H., R. Morais, & A.P. Machado. 2008. Vasos gregos, Coleção de João Allen. Lisboa: Museu Nacional de Soares do Reis.


Youth in an Enclosed Context: New Notes on the Attic Pottery from the Iberian Tútugi Necropolis (Granada, Galera) Carmen Rueda1 and Ricardo Olmos2 To Sir J. Boardman, master and friend Introduction.1The 2Tútugi Necropolis: Contexts and Spaces of Interaction3

divided into three zones. Two of these zones are to the north of the settlement, separated from it by the River Orce and its plain, while the third sector of the necropolis is to the east, in a small ravine.4 It has been in use since the 6th century BC, although it reached its peak in the 4th-3rd centuries BC. (Figure 1). The selected cases, from the late 5th century BC, are from the period that defines the increasingly systematic incorporation of Attic pottery into the Iberian funerary space.5 From this time, we find contexts in which it is possible to analyse some of these religious constructs in which codes related to youth intervene.

In this article we analyse how spaces and associations shed light on the renewed meanings of Attic ceramics in the Iberian context. We begin with a fundamental idea: that Attic pottery converses with its context and assumes a new meaning from the resultant conversation. As such, in the narratives related to the hereafter, Attic pottery becomes integrated and its original significance is transformed in the adoption process, contributing to the Iberian elite’s construction of the imaginary. The Iberian necropolis of Tútugi (Galera, Granada) brings us closer to archaeological records in which we can analyse some of these religious constructs, such as that associated with youth. In this space, Attic image and indigenous materials confer and define the aristocratic ambit of youth, which is associated with initiation and education. However, it also contributes to the study of other aspects linked to the definition of legitimation codes, which can be analysed from a contextual and spatial analysis, in which the Attic image intervenes.

This funerary space has been known since the early 20th century, when it began to be subjected to mass plundering. This was the reason for the first official excavations, which were sponsored by the Junta Superior de Investigaciones Científicas and supervised by Federico de Motos between 1916 and 1917. In 1918 the excavation was extended, then under the direction of Juan Cabré,6 investigating in the most representative spaces, which have since become milestones in the historiography of Iberian archaeology. In fact, together with sites such as the sanctuary of Collado de los Jardines (Santa Elena, Jaén),7 the Tútugi necropolis has become a

The Tútugi necropolis is associated with the settlement of El Cerro del Real and occupies an extensive highland area

Figure 1. Location map and aerial view of the Iberian necropolis of Tútugi (Rodríguez-Ariza 2014) University Research Institute for Iberian Archaeology, University of Jaén. Jaén, Spain. 2  Retired Research Professor, Institute of History, CSIC. Madrid, Spain 3  This study has been carried out within the framework of the HAR2014-59008-JIN Project of the Ministry of Economy and Competitiveness. 1 

Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 28-29. Olmos 2006: 223. 6  Cabré and Motos 1920. 7  Calvo and Cabré 1919. 4  5 


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

benchmark for the construction of everything ‘Iberian’, and its finds, architecture and contexts have contributed to configuring the reference models.8

century BCE), a krater and cup make up the prototypical grave goods as the most representative assemblage. Both forms acquire a symbolic and functional relationship, sometimes linked to banqueting. At these times, the krater may have maintained its significance as an aristocratic wine vessel and, at the same time, the receptacle for the ashes of the deceased. In fact, many of the Attic vessels documented in Iberian funerary contexts, especially the kraters, would have been exclusively for funerary use.14 With this meaning, the Attic vessel and its function is, in some cases, subordinate to the image it incorporates and it is the context that gives meaning to the articulation between that exceptional image and the rest of the items it relates to.15 Below we take a detailed look at the two closed contexts selected, in which the Attic image supports an exceptional youth-related theme.

From the 1960s, the excavations focused on the settlement and marking its stratigraphic sequence.9 It was not until 2000 that work resumed directly on this funerary space. These excavations continued until 2010 in different phases and led to a re-reading and new spatial and contextual discoveries, as well as the recognition of the value of the archaeological site.10 In addition, during those years there was an exhaustive review of the finds from this necropolis, which are now in the National Archaeological Museum, Madrid. That study is now fundamental for any analysis focusing on this funerary space.11

Tomb 11. The Hippotrophia as a Value and a Symbol

From the Context to the Image: The Narratives in the Interior of the Tomb

We begin with one of the most outstanding tombs in the necropolis, one with a long and complex history and at least two different phases of use.16 Situated in the western part of Zone Ia, it was initially built as an 11.5-m2 quadrangular chamber cut into the clayey marl. It is entered on the eastern side through a one-metre-long passage that ends at a system of steps, of which at least five are preserved. The chamber floor is made of plaster, on which you can still see the marks of the posts that supported the load-bearing structure. Two areas of ustrina associated with this tomb have been documented. They appear to be connected to ritual ceremonies that involved the controlled burning of scrub-type plants, such as esparto stalks (Figure 2).

The very history of the investigations of this necropolis make it an ideal context for new proposals. Far from losing all hope for a space, most of which was excavated in the early 20th century, or resigning ourselves to mere descriptive readings of the finds, the in-depth reviews that have been made of it and the new excavations carried out, allow us to return with new questions and to delve more deeply into the original interpretative readings. It should be pointed out that the excavations have made it possible to complete previously known contexts, obtain new reference stratigraphic sequences and absolute datings and, fundamentally, to apply spatial readings that are basic to our understanding of the religious and legitimisation processes, in which the iconography plays an obvious role. Although we also have to point out that that we are faced with major limitations, such as the absence of anthropological analyses of the cremation remains, which is without doubt a variable that has to be taken into account and means that we must be cautious when making hypotheses.

Above the seal of this first period of use, another 2.5 x 3 metre rectangular chamber was built at a later time. It was a closed chamber (three walls are preserved) with a roof of pine planks. On the outside, a platform of tamped mud was built and bordered by red-painted adobe walls. Red has a clear symbolic meaning at this necropolis. It is used on the exterior architecture of some tombs, Tumulus 2017 being the most representative. It thus created a temenos-like space covering an area of around 50 m2. In that period, one of the ustrinum from the previous phase continued in use, materialising the recovery and memory of the preceding structure and rite, although we are unable to specify more than that. This phase also saw the recovery of the material from the previous period, based on the amortisation of some of the items from the original grave goods, among them the Attic assemblage and, perhaps, the bone remains. This is an important aspect that we will return to later.

Taking into account this analytical context, a look at the micro-space, without disregarding the contextual and spatial reading, helps us understand aspects related to the aristocratic cult, in the cases selected for this article, associated with codes of youth. The Attic finds form part of these dynamics and they are assimilated into and interact with the construction of those paradigms.12 Therefore, the Attic pottery sometimes complements its significance with the objects with which it is deposited and assumes a local interpretation, which distances us from its meaning as a mere prestige receptacle.13

The grave goods of this tomb consist of an assemblage of finds that make sense when given a full and interrelated reading (Figure 3). Thus, the excavations at the beginning of the 20th century uncovered Attic grave goods consisting of a red-figure krater and a Cástulo cup. To this, together with the finds documented in the 2009 excavations, we can add an Iberian tapered-rim urn, two plate/lids, a jar, a plate decorated in red, a plain plate, a bowl, the remains of a bronze jug, a belt buckle, a falcata, a speartip, a ferrule, two horse-bridle bits

Far from merely descriptive readings, it is necessary to give it content, as in fact it originally had, as that contributes to generating the mythological narrations specific to those historical moments and adapts to the established regulations. Thus, for example, in Upper Andalucía, for the chronology we are looking at (late 5th century BCE - first quarter of the 4th González Reyero 2014: 327. Pellicer and Schüle 1962. 10  For a complete analysis of the most recent actions, cf. RodíguezAriza 2014. 11  Pereira et alii 2004. 12  Boardman 2001. 13  Rouillard 1994; Sánchez 2000; Olmos 2003. 8  9 

Sánchez 1997: 40. Rueda and Grau in press. 16  Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 47-58. 17  Rodríguez-Ariza et alii 2008. 14  15 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 2. Section of tomb 11, with indication of the two phases of use (Rodríguez-Ariza 2014) and two fibulas, one of them made of iron documented in the excavation18 (Figure 4). These items are associated with a few, very fragmented bone remains that it has not been possible to analyse.19

sites in the territory of Cástulo in the Upper Guadalquivir region.21 At the sanctuaries of Collado de los Jardines (Santa Elena, Jaén) and La Cueva de la Lobera (Castellar, Jaén) thousands of bronze figurines representing the images of worshippers and their rituals (4th-3rd centuries BC)22 were left as offerings. In that extremely rich votive iconography it is possible demarcate ritual attitudes that can be linked to the acquisition of the falcata23 or the belt buckle,24 as symbols of having reached the coming of age ritual.25

Subject to these limitations, we focus on the iconography associated with this tomb, specifically on the Group of Polygnotos bell krater, dated to around 440 BC and depicting a horse rider/child on horseback being received by a winged Victoria20 (Figure 5). There can be no doubt that the reading of this vessel, the only item of figurative iconography deposited in this tomb during its two phases, is enriched by the rest of the finds. It is of interest to note, as a theme linked to initiation and hippotrophia, that it is associated with the remains of a panoply, as well as of items of apparel, including a belt buckle and two fibulas. In the Iberian context, objects such as the falcata and the belt buckle are associated with the rites of youth. It is possible to trace these processes at the worship

The assemblage – Attic vessels and grave goods – builds a narrative alluding to the membership of the knight class and to the hippotrophia that corresponds to the aristocracy, all perfectly understandable in the Iberian context. In fact, Face B of this krater affirms the education of youth and, as Rueda 2011. Rueda 2008. 23  An exceptional example, very allusive in this respect, comes from the shrine of Castellar and is in the collection of the Museum of Barcelona (No. 19272), cf. Nicolini 1977: Plate 27. It refers to a special attitude: a young man, wearing the attire specific to the rites of passage, embracing a falcata, shown stuck to his chest, focused and emphasised in the context of the image, Cf. Rueda 2013: 365. 24  The bronze belt buckle, of the same type as is documented in Tomb 11 at Tútugi, is re-signified in the masculine image in these shrines, representing a symbol of the attire of some series of young men with short tunics. On numerous occasions the buckle is highlighted as a symbol of the male gender and possibly of a group, lineage or territory. For some examples, cf. Álvarez-Ossorio 1941: XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL; Prados 1992: 330-331, Nos. 334 to 358; Nicolini 1969: XV-XVI. 25  Rueda 2013: 356-357. 21  22 

Pereira et alii 2004: 84-85; Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 60-61 They have been used for dating with indeterminate results. There are no published studies of the cremated remains associated with this tomb, although in the study carried out by Pereira et alii, an oral reference by Dr Francisco Gómez Bellard is mentioned that associates the remains of a young woman aged about twenty with the flared-rim cinerary urn, Cf. Pereira et alii. 2004: 86. It is not possible to specify more, nor whether it was the tomb of an individual, a couple or a collective. 20  MAN 1979/70/4. Cabré and Motos 1920: 24, Plate XIV; Trías 19671968: 457, pl. CCIII and CCV, 1; Domínguez Monedero and Sánchez 2001: Fig. 101, No. 102; Olmos 1999: No. 33.1. 18  19 


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

Figure 3. Grave goods of the tomb 11 of the necropolis of Tútugi (Cabré and Motos 1920)


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 4. Grave goods of the tomb 11 of the necropolis of Tútugi (Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: fig. 50)


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

Figure 5. Group of Polygnotos bell krater. National Archaeological Museum, Madrid in the Iberian ambience, the krater can be read as part of its assemblage, in a sequential and integrative narrative. This is confirmed by the imitations, for example on the Iberian krater from Atalayuelas (Fuerte del Rey, Jaén).26

On the other hand, we cannot forget the presence of Nike, who takes on the role of the funerary deity who receives the noble horse rider and guides him on his journey to the hereafter. This is an allusion to the winged divinity recognised in the Iberian religious imaginary30 and is clearly linked to the Iberian eschatological narrative, as can be seen in other Iberian examples, such as the sculpture from the park of Elche (Alicante).31

The role of this tomb as part of the necropolis complex, as we will see below from the spatial reading, is reaffirmed from the generation of those key discourses in the context of the aristocratic class, in which the horse rider and the horse provide a very important archetype in the construction of the narratives of legitimation and memory.27 The attributes of both are deposited in the tomb, including part of the horse harness and bits. The horse rider-child contributes to the construction of memory and sacredness, and this krater is chosen at the moment of the initiation, of the education that alludes to the existence of codes that regulate the rituality also related to youth. The paradigmatic case of the sculptures of Osuna (Seville province), in a monumental language and from a later period, enrich the comparative reading.28 However, the time chosen may demarcate a key moment: the transformation of youth into adult and the assumption of new symbols that are extensively represented in the Attic image through exceptional examples, in which signs such as, once again, the sword, assume an extraordinary significance.29

Tomb 34. Female Initiation The second example selected, contemporary with the previous one, is in the southern area of Zone Ia.32 It is defined as another chamber cut into the rock and has a rectangular shape with a maximum area of 14.26 m2. This makes it one of the largest tombs in this necropolis. It is entered from the western side, through a 3-metre-long corridor that descends to the door of the chamber, which is accessed via two steps. The closure system appears to follow the common scheme of this necropolis (Figure 6). The grave goods are rather opulent. They consist of a redfigure bell krater,33 an Attic Cástulo cup and four iberian flaredrim amphoras with a rich vegetal and animal decoration. To these we have to add at least one more amphora of a similar typology discovered in the 2009 excavations, as well as an urn,

Olmos 2003. Boardman 2004; Olmos 2006: 20-21. 28  We are referring in particular to the reliefs that could refer to ludus played by children. Cf. León 1999; Olmos 2002-2003. 29  Masseria 2017. 26 

Olmos and Tortosa 2009. Chapa and Belén 2011. 32  Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 118-123. 33  Fragments of this krater were found during the 2009 excavations. 30 




Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 6. View of the final floor of the tomb 34 (Rodríguez-Ariza, 2014: fig. 129) two lids, a bowl, a fragment of calceiform and two small, glasspaste amphoras imported from the Eastern Mediterranean34 (Figure 7-8).

meanings. For this specific case, music defines the rite of passage through instruments, such as the aulos and the lyre, that are perfectly recognisable in Iberian rituality. In fact, the Iberian image is no stranger to this type of mythemes, which are included in diverse ritual contexts, such as the Sculpture of Osuna (Seville)38 or in the ceramic of La Serreta (Alcoi, Alicante).39 In both cases, a youth is playing the diaulos in very precise ritual contexts,40 social events that may be related to the social processes of learning and initiation in which boys and girls participated in ritual and festive activities with view to their inclusion in the adult world41

In contrast to the previous context, in this case the Attic iconography is complemented by the group of large of oriental Tartessian-tradition amphoras that bear themes related to natural and animal exuberance (Figure 9). Memory and tradition are incorporated and redefined in this original context. The theme selected for this case takes us back to the scene of female paideia, framed within the introduction to the knowledge of the lyre and the diaulos of the hereafter.35 The protagonist is a youth, who, with a timid gesture, enters the regulated space of a music class. Seems to be carrying a small lyre. He is welcomed by two muses, intermediaries and transmitters of the divine message through song and poetry, as well as music.36 The initiation to music and the association with infancy is not exclusive to this context. The closest Attic reference we have is at the shrine of Els Pilars, where an amphora dated to between 470 and 460 BC was documented with an iconographic motif referring to transition and initiation related to the ambit of music. A coming of age motif that ‘alludes to the concurrence – and possible succession – of two instruments, the chelys-lyre and the diaulos’.37 Once again, the introduction of the Greek image enriches the significance of the Iberian rite and its reading. The Greek image becomes part of the complex of codes of the Iberian religious structure in Eastern Andalusia; it is assimilated and provides new

However, the context once again redefines the general reading to which the krater contributes. In this case, we have a set of amphoras that suggests a rich natural environment, expressed in a language and the forms of tradition. The red decoration symbolically delineates a universe of geometric, vegetal and animal motifs. They include the griffin, a mythical animal that is a direct link to the orientalising tradition, as we can see in examples such as Cerro Alcalá (Jaén) or Carmona (Seville).42 In fact, that mythical animal is depicted in this necropolis, in indigenous iconography, as can be seen on a limestone cinerary urn with a protector griffin associated with floral shoots.43 It can also be seen in the Attic Olmos 2002-2003. Grau y Olmos 2005. 40  González Reyero 2008. 41  Chapa and Olmos 2004: 73-74. 42  Olmos 2003; Pachón et alii 2009. 43  An image that contains an iconic earlier tradition that is well known in large-format sculpture and whose most illustrative reference is the sculptural assemblage of Porcuna (Jaén, mid-5th century BC-early 4th century BC), in which the protective and 38  39 

Pereira et alii 2004: 103; Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 124-125. MAN 1979/70/341. Domínguez and Sánchez 2001: No. 101, Fig. 100. 36  A model that perfectly shows the krater, with a white background, in the Vatican Museums (mid-5th century BC), cf. Stella 1956. 37  Grau and Olmos 2005: 56. 34  35 


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

Figure 7. Grave goods of the tomb 34 of the necropolis of Tútugi (Perea et al. 2004: fig 40, Domínguez Monedero and Sánchez 2001: fig 100)


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 8. Grave goods of the tomb 34 of the necropolis of Tútugi (Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: fig. 132)

Figure 9. Tomb. 34. Detail of oriental Tartessian-tradition amphoras (VVAA 2004)


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

iconography, for example on a pelike that depicts two griffins protecting a female head adorned with a Phrygian cap arriving or emerging in the realm of death.44

accumulates a very special history that spans through two phases. It has been identified as the principal founding tomb and in a second period it became an open-air temple in which a temenos is delimited in red, with the shape of a bull hide in mud.47 A ritual space, a central landmark in this necropolis and especially in this Zone Ia. A more complicated matter, as we only have a partial record, is specifying how Tombs 34 and 11 are incorporated into this foundational process, although it seems clear that the triangle made up by these three tombs sustains and justifies the genesis, foundation and organisation of this area of the necropolis.48

What is interesting about this context – Tomb 34 – is the combination of languages that articulate a unitary construction combining memory and tradition with the incorporation of the exogenous image. All this took place at a time that defines the introduction of Attic material into the Iberian context in Eastern Andalusia. We see two different iconographic codes coexisting in the same tomb, bringing together and synthesising different times and spaces, generating a new language, rich in nuances. It is a context of the gestation of new religious narratives, in this case related to the female codes of youth.

At this point, it is interesting to observe how the image interacts with the internal context of the tombs, given that the variability of the meanings is fixed in the unrepeatable reading of the archaeological context, a reference in which the image itself interacts with the space in which it was deposited and in which it was found. In these contexts, we find ourselves faced with a heterogenous panorama in which the choices of the narratives of power follow different patterns. Thus, in the case of Tomb 20, the iconographic protagonism is focused on the image of a divinity seated on a throne of sphinxes who, through her perforated head and breasts, offers a libation of milk, perfumes or ambrosía.49 It is an alabaster statuette inherited from an earlier period at the beginning of the 6th century BC. The context is enriched by polychrome glass amphoriskoi of Eastern Mediterranean origin, a bronze phiale mesomphalos50 and a Cástulo-cup, as well as local offering vessels that were once decorated with polychrome. Absent from this context is the red-figure krater.51 In this sacred area, it is not acceptable to have other images with the maternal goddess made of alabaster. Neither poikilia nor the symposion is allowed before the mother-goddess, who offers the milk of her breasts. We see something similar in Baza, where

And the space endows it with content… the Attic image in the definition of the codes of social relations in the Tútugi necropolis. The examples selected take us to the earliest phase of Zone Ia in the necropolis, a period of genesis during which we see the beginning of a delineation of spatial aspects and internal organisation of great interest for the socio-ideological readings that emanate from them. Tombs 11 and 34 are, together with Tomb 20, those that distribute the space in this area of the necropolis. They coincide in their chronology, their similar measurements and their equinoctial orientation (Figure 10). To this we can add that, in spatial terms, they are situated equidistant from each other, making an almost perfect triangle, which makes sense of the subsequent growth of this area.45 This has led to the hypothesis that each of these tombs is identified with the heads of the different lineage groups .46 Without doubt, Tomb 20 can be defined as a central space that

Figure 10. Map of the necropolis of Tútugi, with indication of the main founding area (Source: Rodríguez-Ariza, 2014: fig. 105) Rodríguez-Ariza et alii 2008. For a more extensive debate, Cf. Rodríguez-Ariza 2014. 49  Olmos 2004; González Reyero 2007. 50  Shefton 1991: 309-312. 51  Pereira et alii 2004.

fecundating function of the griffin stands out, cf. Chapa et alii 2009: 161-173. 44  For an up-to-date analysis, cf. Olmos and Moreno-Conde in press. 45  Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 249. 46  Rodríguez-Ariza 2014: 254.

47  48 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 11. Attic set of the necropolis of Piquía (Rueda y Olmos 2015)

separating the processes, this amortisation recalls the context of Piquía (Arjona, Jaén), in which the Attic pottery and images were selected to construct the memory of one of the last Iberian lineages of the Upper Guadalquivir. It is a 1st-century-BC chamber with an Attic assemblage of seven kraters and a cup bearing an articulated iconographic programme composed of scenes that acquire a narrative meaning that culminates in the heroising representation (Figure 11). We see all this without losing sight of the complementary gender reading, as the masculine iconography is highlighted and complemented by the feminine ideal. It is a context, therefore, that explains the spaces of assimilation and adaptation to the Iberian religious structure55 and is additional confirmation that the tradition of the religious practices of the Iberian aristocracy and, above all, its signification, is being revived and redefined in a new socio-political space.56

the foundational tomb is presided over by the grand lady seated on a winged throne, inside which are the ashes of the deceased, a young woman.52 A different process is followed in Tomb 11, in which the Attic red-figure image brings together the unique iconography through a classical Athenian model53 that, in the indigenous context, can be re-signified in heroic terms. The described vessel places the image in a key moment that achieves a perfectly comprehensible narrative meaning in the Iberian context. The masculine ambit culminates with the heroising action as an assimilable theme in aristocratic society. The power of the gesture accentuates the moment chosen in the representation: the instant of the apparition of Nike, probably assimilated with the divinity, the libation linked to the heroisation and the renovation that accompanies the libatory rite and nudity as a channel for expressing a specifically aristocratic language.54

Tomb 34, one of the two largest in the necropolis, follows a different process to those described above. As a foundational space, it offers the image of prestige through the female initiation, which is combined with the traditional iconography through the magnificent assemblage of Iberian amphoras. A harmonious synthesis of languages that demarcates an original and not at all contradictory narrative. It becomes one of the earliest references for analysing the incorporation of the Attic image and its link to different iconographic traditions that would culminate in examples of Iberian imitation, such as the krater from the necropolis of Atalayuelas (Fuerte del Rey, Jaén).57

This context shares a feature with Tomb 20: it has two phases of use, in the last of which some of the grave goods from the first phase were reused, including this krater. This could indicate a process of foundational memory (re-foundation?) supported by heroic variables. Despite the distance

Olmos et alii 2012; Rueda and Olmos 2015. Ruiz et alii 2015. An exceptional example of the synthesis of different languages that generate an original narrative that summarises the old orientalising memory with a new formula that contributes to the narration of local mythologies. Cf. Pachón et alii 2007. 55  56 

Izquierdo and Chapa 2010. Cf. Relief of the Hero-Horse Rider, Athens NM 1386, LIMC, Vol. II, Tav. 22, No. 108. 54  Rueda and Olmos 2015. 52 




Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

Figure 12. Images of initiation in the Cova dels Pilars and in the sanctuary of Puente Tablas (Grau and Olmos 2005; Ruiz et alii 2015; Rueda and Grau in press) Bibliography

The selected examples indicate how the codes related to youth were evocatively incorporated and repeated in the Iberian social and religious space.58 The values related to initiation and education become more powerful when associated with the foundation, as well as with the memory. Thus, the motif of the sacred foundation of a placed linked to a personage appears to be documented in other Iberians contexts, such as worship sites. These are intriguing cases that take us back to the Attic image relating to initiation as a collective symbol, in the way they became ritual symbols that identify an age group. Worthy of mention, by way of contrast, are the shrines at the southern gate of the oppidum of Puente Tablas (Jaén)59 and at Cueva dels Pilars (Alcoi, Alicante)60 (Figure 12).

Álvarez-Ossorio. F.1941. Catálogo de los exvotos ibéricos del Museo Arqueológico Nacional. Madrid. Boardman, J. 2001. The history of greek vases. London: Thames and Hudson Ed. Boardman, J. 2004. Archeologia della nostalgia. Come i greci reinventarono il loro passato. Milano: Ed. Bruno Mondadori. Cabré, J. and Motos, F. 1920. La necrópolis ibérica de Tútugi (Galera), provincia de Granada. Memoria de las excavaciones practicadas en 1918. Memorias de la Junta Superior de Excavaciones y Antigüedades 25. Madrid. Calvo, C. and Cabré, J. 1919: Excavaciones de la Cueva y Collado de los Jardines (Santa Elena, Jaén). Memoria de los trabajos realizados en el año 1918. Junta Superior de Excavaciones y Antigüedades. Madrid. Chapa, T. and Olmos, R. 2004. El imaginario del joven en la cultura ibérica. Melanges de la Casa de Velázquez 34: 43-83. Chapa, T. and Belén, M. 2011. Viaje a la eternidad. El grupo escultórico del Parque Infantil de Tráfico (Elche, Alicante). Spal 20: 151-174. Chapa, T., Vallejo, I., Belén, M., Martínez-Navarrete, Mª I., Ceprián, B., Rodero, A. and Pereira, J. 2009. El trabajo de los escultores ibéricos: un ejemplo de Porcuna (Jaén) (1). Trabajos de Prehistoria, 66, nº 1: 161-173. Domínguez Monedero, A. and Sánchez, C. 2001. Greek Pottery from the Iberian Peninsula. Archaic and Classical periods. Leiden: Gocha R. Tsetskhladze ed. Brill. González Reyero, S. 2007. La dama de Galera. Creación, transformación iconográfica e incidencia en las dinámicas sociales, Rivista di Studi Fenici, vol. 35, nº2: 141160. González Reyero, S. 2008. Música, memoria y comportamiento social en la Contestania ibérica. El caso de El Cigarralejo (Mula, Murcia). In A. Adroher and J. Blánquez (eds.), Primer Congreso Internacional de Arqueología Ibérica Bastetana, Serie Varia, 9: 69-86. Madrid: Universidad Autónoma de Madrid/Universidad de Granada.

In the cases we are focusing on in this article, the codes linked to youth are integrated into the narratives related to the hereafter and the eschatological ideal inherent to the beliefs of those societies. The funerary initiation and the universe related to the journey to the hereafter are well-defined on the prestige vessels, where we see codes that re-signify some of the main values of the Iberian aristocracy. It is no coincidence that in the genesis of this necropolis at Tútugi we find the image of the divinity, to which we can add initiation as a concept that connects with those values, in this case demarcated by gender. Furthermore, the subsequent reuse of part of the grave goods and their incorporation into a new context of relationships (we are speaking of Tombs 20 and 11) helps us understand how they were involved in those mythemes in reinforcing the memory of the lineage, which contributes to the legitimation substantiated in a distant time and space and transferred through a prestige language perfectly integrated into the Iberian religious structure. We believe that as a whole they become examples that define and open up a thought-provoking path of investigation that forces us to focus on the context and the uses and transformation of Attic vessels and iconography in the Iberian religious space. Rueda 2013; Rueda and Grau in press. Ruiz et alii 2015. 60  Grau and Olmos 2005. 58  59 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

González Reyero, S. 2014. Entre nacionales y extranjeros: Galera en la conformación de un modelo para la protohistoria ibera. In Rodríguez-Ariza, La necrópolis ibérica de Tútugi (2000-2012), CAAI Textos 6: 325-348. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén. Grau, I. and Olmos, R. 2005. El ánfora ática de la Cova dels Pilars (Agres, Alicante): una propuesta de lectura iconográfica en su contexto espacial ibérico. Archivo Español de Arqueología 78: 49-78. Izquierdo, I. and Chapa, T. (eds.) 2010. La Dama de Baza. Un viaje femenino al más allá. Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura. León, P. 1999. La sculpture des Ibères. Paris : L’Harmattan. Masseria, C. 2017. Di padre in figlio... ‘come ricordo e pegno’. Un cratere a figure rosse da Camarina. In C. Masseria and E. Marroni (Eds.) Dialogando. Studi in onore di Mario Torelli: 275-288. Pisa: Edizioni ETS. Nicolini, G. 1969. Les Bronzes Figurés des Sanctuaires Ibériques. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. Nicolini, G. 1977. Bronces Ibéricos.Barcelona: Ed. Gustavo Gili, S.A. Olmos, R. 1999. Los iberos y sus imágenes (CD-Rom). Madrid Olmos, R. 2002-2003. En la flor de la edad. Un ideal de representación heroico iberohelenístico. Cuadernos de Prehistoria y Arqueología de la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid. 28-29: 259-272. Olmos, R. 2003. La imagen en la cultura tartésica. In J. Blánquez (ed.) Cerámicas orientalizantes del Museo de Cabra: 32-55. Cabra: Ayuntamiento de Cabra. Olmos, R. 2004. La Dama de Galera (Granada): la apropiación sacerdotal de un modelo divino. In J. Pereira, T. Chapa, A. Madrigal, A. Uriarte and V. Mayoral (Eds.): La necrópolis ibérica de Galera (Granada). La colección del Museo Arqueológico Nacional: 213-238. Madrid. Olmos, R. 2006. Vaso griego e imagen orientalizante en la Andalucía ibérica: la colisión de dos tradiciones iconográficas (siglos v-iv a.C.). In F. Giudice et alii (eds.) Il greco, il barbaro e la cerámica attica. Immaginario del diverso, processi di scambio e autorappresentazione degli indigeni, (Università di Catania 14-19 Maggio 2001), Università di Catania: 219-228. Roma: Editorial L’Erma di Bretschneider. Olmos, R. and Tortosa, T. 2009. Vasos griegos en Iberia: una diversidad de espacios y usos sacros. In S. Fortunelli and C. Masseria (eds.), Ceramica attica da santuari della Grecia, della Ionia e dell’Italia: 57-70. Perugia: Osanna Edizioni. Olmos, R. and Moreno-Conde, M. In press. Paris o Alejandro en los dos vasos áticos del Cerro del Real, Tútugi (Galera, Granada) y más cosas… In X. Aquilué, P. Cabrera and M. Orfila (Eds.) Homenaje a la Dra. Glòria Trias Rubiés. Miscelánea Arqueológica con motivo del cincuentenario de la edición de su libro Cerámicas griegas de la Península Ibérica (1967-2017). Girona: Centro Iberia Graeca. Olmos, R., Rueda, C., Ruiz, A., Molinos, M., Rísquez, C. and Gómez, F. 2012. Imágenes para un linaje: vida, muerte y memoria ritual en la Cámara principesca de Piquía (Arjona, Jaén). In S. Angiolillo; M. Giuman e C. Pilo (a cura di): MEIXIS. Atti del Convegno Internazionale di Studi: Il sacro e il profano. Dinamiche di stratificazione

culturale nella periferia greca e romana: 89-104. Roma: Bretschneider. Pachón, J. A.; Carrasco, J, and Aníbal, C. 2007. Realidad imitada, modelo imaginado o revisión de las tradiciones orientalizantes en tiempos ibéricos, a través de la crátera de columnas de Atalayuelas (Fuerte del Rey/ Torredelcampo, Jaén). Antiqvitas, nº18-20: 17-42. Pellicer, M. and Schüle, W. 1962. Cerro del Real (Galera). Excavaciones Arqueológicas en España, 12. Madrid. Pereira, J., Chapa, T., Madrigal, A., Uriarte, A., and Mayoral, V. 2004: La Necrópolis ibérica de Galera (Granada). La colección del Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Madrid: Ministerio de Cultura. Prados, L. 1992. Exvotos ibéricos de bronce del Museo Arqueológico Nacional. Madrid. Rodríguez-Ariza, Mª O.; Rueda, C. and Gómez, F. 2008. El posible santuario periurbano de Tutugi: el cerro del Castillo (Galera, Granada). In A. Adroher y J. Blánquez (Ed.): Ier Congreso Internacional de Arqueología Ibérica Bastetana, Serie Varia 9: 187-204. Madrid. Rodríguez-Ariza, Mª O. 2014. La necrópolis ibérica de Tútugi (2000-2012), CAAI Textos 6. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén. Rouillard, P. 1994. L’usage des vases grecs chez les Ibères. In P. Cabrera, R. Olmos and E. Sanmartí (eds.), Lecturas desde la diversidad. Simposio celebrado en Ampurias, 1991. Vol. I: 263-274. Huelva. Rueda, C. 2008. Las imágenes de los santuarios de Cástulo: los exvotos ibéricos en bronce de Collado de los Jardines (Santa Elena) y Los Altos del Sotillo (Castellar). Palaeohispánica 8: 55-87. Rueda, C. 2011. Territorio, culto e iconografía en los santuarios iberos del Alto Guadalquivir (ss. IV a.n.e.-I d.n.e.).Textos CAAI nº 3. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén. Rueda, C. 2013. Ritos de paso de edad y ritos nupciales en la religiosidad ibera: algunos casos de estudio. In Rísquez, C. & Rueda, C. (eds.), Santuarios Iberos: territorio, ritualidad y memoria. Actas del Congreso El santuario de La Cueva de la Lobera de Castellar. 1912-2012: 341-383. Jaén. Rueda, C. and Olmos, R. 2015. Las cráteras áticas de la cámara principesca de Piquía (Arjona): los vasos de la memoria de uno de los últimos linajes iberos. In A. Ruiz and M. Molinos (eds.), Jaén, tierra ibera. 40 años de investigación y transferencia: 375-391. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén. Rueda, C. and Grau, I. In press. Edad, ritos de paso y memoria: símbolos de iniciación en la cerámica ática del espacio religioso ibero. In X. Aquilué, P. Cabrera and M. Orfila (Eds.) Homenaje a la Dra. Glòria Trias Rubiés. Miscelánea Arqueológica con motivo del cincuentenario de la edición de su libro Cerámicas griegas de la Península Ibérica (1967-2017). Girona: Centro Iberia Graeca. Ruiz, A., Molinos, M., Fernández, R., Pérez, M. and Rueda, C. 2015 El santuario de la Puerta del Sol. In Ruiz, A y Molinos, M (eds.), Jaén, tierra ibera. 40 años de investigación y transferencia: 93-106. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén. Ruiz A., Molinos, M., Rísquez, C., Gómez, F. and Lechuga, M. A. 2015. La cámara de Piquía (Arjona, Jaén), In Ruiz, A y Molinos, M (eds.), Jaén, tierra ibera. 40 años de investigación y transferencia: 357-374. Jaén: Universidad de Jaén.


Carmen Rueda and Ricardo Olmos – Youth in an Enclosed Context

Shefton, B. B. 1991. Comentarios a ‘apuntes ibéricos’. Trabajos de Prehistoria 48: 309-312. Stella, L. A. 1956. Mitologia greca. Torino: Ed. Torinese. Trías, G. 1967-1968, Cerámicas griegas en la Península Ibérica, 2 vols. Valencia.

Sánchez, C. 1997. Imágenes de la muerte en una tumba ibérica. Boletín del Museo Arqueológico Nacional, Tomo 15, nº 1-2: 37-48. Sánchez, C. 2000. Vasos griegos para los príncipes ibéricos. In P. Cabrera and C. Sánchez (eds.) Los griegos en España: tras las huellas de Heracles: 179-193. Madrid.


An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery: Tradition and Future Perspectives Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias1 and Camila Diogo de Souza2 The 1 study 2 of Greek pottery traditionally occupies a prominent place in the area of Classics in Brazil. One of the few Departments dedicated to Classical Archeology, the Museum of Archeology and Ethnology of the University of São Paulo (MAE-USP), is responsible for the training of many scholars currently active in the diffusion and dissemination of this academic field. This institution, MAE, holds one of the main researchers in Classical Archaeology, Professor Haiganuch Sarian,3 responsible for the consolidation of this field countrywide from 1970 onwards. Her scientific contribution covers different areas, including Ancient History, Archeology and Philology, as well as studies of museum and private collections and curatorship. In Classical Archeology, she stands out in the development of studies in Greek Ceramology, particularly in iconography, contributing to methodological approaches and theoretical reflections on pottery analyses. Her long-term dissertation supervisions and teaching in undergraduate and graduate programs provided important research which are references for different approaches to the ceramic material culture4 in the country and even worldwide.

developed in the country, as well as together with other researchers from national and foreign institutions. The LECA was established as a Permanent Extension Project based on the Institute of Human Sciences of the Federal University of Pelotas (ICH / UFPel). The laboratory is an interdisciplinary workspace for research projects, open to Brazilian interinstitutional and international collaborations. It is also a center for training new researchers in the field of Ceramology in Brazil, offering research and teaching tools and means for undergraduate and graduate levels. The main objective of the laboratory is to contribute to the strengthening and development of scientific productions on Classical Antiquity, with focus on research that promotes the use documentary and material sources. Our aim is to reflect and contribute to a better understanding of the meaning, uses and functions of this kind of material culture (pottery) as a living part of culture, history and anthropology of ancient societies. Focused on technical and morphological aspects, such as shapes, dimensions, technology, confection technics of decoration and painting processes, chronological styles and typological classification of non-figured and figured motifs, attribution and workshops, schools and centers of production, LECA has already promoted many activities, such as study groups, courses and lectures to develop this field of research in Brazil.5 In this sense, the laboratory has improved methodological approaches and theoretical discussions about pottery analyses creating tools to produce and spread knowledge of this area and reach a wider public audience.

However, the scarcity of institutions and departments dedicated to studies in Classical Archaeology was responsible for inhibiting the growing number of Brazilian scholars dedicated to the study of ancient pottery and the interest of foreign institutions in supporting and establishing partnerships with Brazilian research on Ceramology. In addition, international cooperation, dissemination of scientific works in the area, and stimulation of new studies depend on institutional support. Until 2011, there was no laboratory or research center in the country dedicated exclusively to the studies of ancient ceramic material, and the Brazilian scientific production on this material was restricted to postgraduate and specialization programs and courses, mainly through individual efforts of researchers who were able to acquire part of their background abroad. Thus, the Laboratório de Estudos sobre a Cerâmica Antiga (LECA) was conceived with the main objective of promoting a space for research on ancient pottery to be

From 2012 to 2016, the post-doctoral research project ‘Material Culture and Society: the contribution of ceramic material and its interfaces to the study of the ancient Greek society’,6 had as its main objective to create methodological instruments that could provide a better and in-depth understanding of the relations between material culture and society in ancient Greece, in particular ceramic material. In other words, methodological and analytical resources were proposed for systematic study on material remains related to pottery production through different approaches and perspectives (iconographic and technical), in order to improve the knowledge acquired through textual sources and

Postdoctoral associate, Laboratório de Estudos sobre a Cerâmica Antiga (LECA) / Universidade Federal de Pelotas (UFPel) [email protected] 2  Postdoctoral associate, Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology / University of São Paulo (MAE / USP); Laboratório de Estudos sobre a Cerâmica Antiga (LECA) / Universidade Federal de Pelotas (UFPel) [email protected] 3  Full Professor at the Museum of Archeology and Ethnology of the University of São Paulo (MAE-USP). Ancien Membre de l’École Française d’Athènes. For her backgroud history and scientific production: BRUNO; CERQUEIRA; FUNARI, 2013:13-29. 4  It is not our aim in this article to list all the Brazilian bibliography in Greek Ceramology. We selected some titles that exemplify the main academic production in this field. 1 

The LECA’s coordinators supervise undergraduate and postgraduate research in History and Archeology. Since the creation of the laboratory in 2011, two master’s dissertations and three undergraduate monographs have been defended dealing with the main research subject of the Laboratory, i.e. iconography. See note 7 below. 6  Postdoctoral research project developed by Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias, in the History Post-graduate program of the Federal University of Pelotas (UFPel), financially supported by DOCFIX Fapergs/CAPES. 5 


Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza – An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery

Figure 1. LECA official course ‘Introduction to the studies on Greek pottery’. Exercises in interpretation, cataloging, drawing and photography of pieces from the Museum of Archeology and Ethnology of the University of São Paulo (MAE-USP). São Paulo, MAE-USP, July 2015. LECA Archive.

from Ceramic workshop of the Faculty of Arts of the Federal University of Pelotas. It held four main sections involving Experimental Archaeology with technology in pottery production, fabrication processes (hand-made and wheelmade) (Figure 2), surface treatments, decoration and firing process (open and pit firing and kilns).

bibliographical references about social, political, economic and ideological organization. In addition to the activities developed by the laboratory regarding research supervisions and project supports – which will be discussed in more detail in the following pages – an official LECA course was created entitled ‘Introduction to the studies on Greek pottery’ (Figure 1). It was taught in foreign and Brazilian academic institutions.7 This course has a set of lectures that can be summarized as a short-period course, mini-course, diffusion or university extension course, optional course in undergraduate and postgraduate disciplines. We aim to promote and discuss different approaches to methodological analyses on Greek pottery studies trough historiographical perspectives.

Exercises in interpretation, cataloging, drawing and photography of pieces (entire vases and fragments) from Brazilian museum collections,8 and from replicas (Figure 3) and 3D modeling were part of the activities of the Laboratory as well. For the creation of the 3D models, we worked in collaboration with Dr. Alex Martire, researcher of the Laboratório de Arqueologia Romana Provincial (LARP) at the University of São Paulo (USP), who is responsible for the digital scanning and printing of artefacts from MAE’s

In 2016, the course was offered to undergraduate students as elective lectures entitled ‘An Introduction to Ancient Greek Pottery: from theory to practice’ in collaboration with professors

The Mediterranean collections at MAE-USP and the Museu Nacional do Rio de Janeiro (MNRJ) at the Federal University of Rio de Janeiro (UFRJ) are the two main Greek pottery collections in Brazil. LESSA, 2006 and CHEVITARESE, 2003 are examples of Attic vases publications of the MNRJ’s collection, as well the exhibition catalogue MUSEU NACIONAL DO RJ, 1999. From MAE’s collection about Cypriote pottery we can mention TORRALVO and ALEGRETTE, 1995; amphorae and vase inscriptions, FUNARI, 2001 and terracotta figurines, HIRATA, 1992, 1998. More titles about studies on these collections can be found in the Appendix. 8 

The first version of the course was taught in 2012 at UFPel. Other versions were offered by the coordinators in many Brazilian universities (DIAS; SOUZA; CERQUEIRA, 2014), and in foreign universities including the Universidad de la República, Uruguay in 2015, and the Universidade de Évora and Universidade de Coimbra, Portugal in 2017. 7 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

collection. He printed in ABS plastic filament a small collection of traditional Greek shape vases for didactic purposes to be used during the classes of LECA’s course. The importance of interdisciplinary approaches to the construction of historical knowledge of ancient Greek society were explored through case studies and discussions on production techniques, chronologies, environment of use and archaeological context, shape vases, nomenclature, style, decoration, iconography, artist and workshop identification, enable the understanding of the significance of this specific kind of material culture and its functions and uses.

Figure 2. ‘An Introduction to Ancient Greek Pottery: from theory to practice’. Throwing demonstration at the Ceramic workshop of the Faculty of Arts of the Federal University of Pelotas, November 2015. LECA Archive.

LECA is also conducting research projects which deals with digital databases for research and public access. The Drawing Database of LECA will create a digital database that includes discussions about drawing methodology of pottery in general, drawing techniques of archaeological record, and knowledge production based on imagery sources. The project main goal is the compilation of a database as a comparative tool for the analysis of material culture, specifically of Greek pottery production during the Geometric, Archaic and Classical periods. This chronology builds on the access to photographic material and drawings elaborated and collected in research on Greek pottery developed by Brazilian scholars (Figures 4 - 6) who are associate researchers of the LECA-UFPel.9 For the classical historian-archaeologist who deals with material records, especially ceramic artefacts, one of the main challenges is to make it a document, a physical source of information about the society that produced, consumed and disposed of it.10 The systematization of the various information included in pottery material is one of the fundamental elements guiding their readings, approaches and interpretations. Description and typological classification based on morphological, chronological, technical and stylistic aspects of material culture, are two of the main methodological instruments for the production of archaeological knowledge.11 Recent electronic innovations have brought many contributions to researchers through interrelated computer software database analyses widening the access to archaeological information and disseminating knowledge. These databases enable future

Figure 3. LECA official course ‘Introduction to the studies on Greek pottery’. Exercises in interpretation, cataloging, drawing and photography of replicas and fragments. Pelotas, Federal University of Pelotas, LECA-UFPel, April 2015. LECA Archive.


CERQUEIRA, 2001, 2014; DIAS, 2009; SOUZA, 2011. MENESES, 1983. 11  DUNNELL, 2007. 9 


Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza – An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery

Figure 4. Drawing Database of LECA: FileMaker record. Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias. Thesis dissertation: ‘The Gela Painter: morphological and stylistic, decorative and iconographical characteristics’. 2009 (Record no. 72). research perspectives, new readings and interpretations of the same sample of objects to be examined. Thus, they have a fundamental role for the elaboration of reference catalogues and for a greater variability of interpretations.

The main online database for studies on Greek pottery, the Beazley Archive, hosted at htm, provides the most complete, easiest and fastest access to researchers. It includes all published information about the Attic vase production. Inspired by this model, we intend to construct research tools in Portuguese in order to provide access to archaeological data to Brazilian scholars. The purpose is to dialogue with international databases established insofar to develop, improve and encourage research on Greek pottery in the Brazilian academic community.

This kind of virtual and computer based knowledge production has been widely developed in the last decades and its main objectives are to enable a wider access to information and discuss statistical approaches to archaeological record interpretations in the historical knowledge production.12 It is necessary to reflect on the objectives, uses and limitations of such methodological instruments for the academic community and for scientific research as a whole, as well as the issues of public access to information.13

In this sense, the LECA drawing database aims to address and offer possible solutions to these issues through the elaboration of databases that are more easily accessible to the academic and public audiences. This documentation will be available for online consultation at the official LECA website – Portal LECA – which will host the databases. The project for the construction of the website was contemplated in 2011 with the award of the announcement made by the Society of Brazilian Archaeology (Sociedade de Arqueologia Brasileira – Edital SAB / 2011) and, currently, the Portal LECA can be reached at

Greek pottery databases have been developed by academic research as an important tool for classifying and analyzing material culture, but in most cases these tools remain tied to personal, commonly inaccessible research. Their publication is restricted by the availability of platforms and proprietary software. In addition, archaeological material belonging to public and private collections always involves copyright and image rights which hinder accessibility.

12  13 

Finally, the Project involving the study, cataloguing and analysis of ceramic material of MAE-USP collection, is coordinated by the authors of this paper and is interinstitutional project involving two universities. This didactic and research project



Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 5. Drawing Database of LECA: drawing of oenochoe C. 7352 made by sketch technique and on vector graphics and image design software (Illustrator). FileMaker record of oenochoe C. 7352. Camila Diogo de Souza. Postdoctoral research: ‘Tombes Géométriques d’Argos II’ – École Française d’Athènes (2011-2014). Drawings made by Yannis Nakas. involved the study of Greek pottery fragments of the MMORT2 collection belonging to MAE-USP. The fragments were taken from São Paulo to Pelotas for systematic analysis and cataloguing of this unpublished material from MAE’s collection. The proposal has two main goals: first, to promote teaching activities among LECA’s students based at UFPel and at MAEUSP, and second, to develop research in the field of Ceramology in Brazilian university centers which do not have museum collections of Greek pottery for archaeological research.

MAE-USP, also members of the LECA, carried out the same detailed study of the remaining lots in MAE’s laboratory under the supervision of Camila Diogo de Souza, PhD. These didactic and research activities enable students to apply their academic background, providing them with necessary practical experience with technical, theoretical and methodological instruments of analysis of ceramic material in the area of ​​Mediterranean archeology, particularly in methodological approaches to the study of Greek pottery.

Approximately 200 fragments of Greek pottery from different periods, decoration styles and production centers were analyzed to create a reference database with comparanda (Figure 7 - 8). This database presents illustrative morphological profiles and iconographical motif examples of traditional Greek vase shapes of different chronological and stylistic repertoire.

In addition to teaching objectives, as a third purpose of this project, we will select some of the fragments studied in order to create an artificial ‘stratigraphy’ that chronologically represents all the different periods of the Greek pottery production, with examples from Neolithic, Bronze Age and Helladic Period, Iron Age, Geometric, Archaic, Classic, Hellenistic and Byzantine Periods. This ‘ceramic stratigraphy’ of Ancient Greek vase painting will become a ‘showcase’ with a great didactical instrument potential, since it can be used for different activities in the classroom during undergraduate and postgraduate courses at MAE-USP and other institutions in Brazil. Besides, this ‘showcase’ can also be widely used in workshops, mini-courses and teacher training of primary and secondary schools in order to complement the background of teachers and students about the History and Archaeology of Greece. Finally, this teaching material may also be used

This project was carried out by borrowing lots of 50 and 80 fragments from the MMO-RT2 collection during 2015 and 2016. Each group of sherds was systematically analyzed by LECA members, undergraduate and postgraduate students, under the supervision of Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias, PhD, in order to develop and complement their academic background in the area of ​​Mediterranean archeology through theoretical and methodological analysis of pottery material. Additionally, undergraduate and graduate students from


Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza – An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery

Figure 6. Drawing Database of LECA: drawing made by tracing technique. Fábio Vergara Cerqueira. Research Project (ongoing): ‘Iconographical representations and musical instruments on Apulian vase paintings: Greek-indigenous intercultural relations in Magna Graecia’ (5th and 6th centuries B.C.)’. in temporary exhibitions organized in other Brazilian institutions. This part of the project is still a work in progress.

and innovative aspects of LECA proposals, we call attention to the elaboration and dissemination of these databases as research instruments based on software specifically developed for the construction of interrelated information analysis and systematization criteria of ceramic material.

Final Remarks Although their emergence as disciplines in Brazilian universities is recent, Classics and Ceramology have been developed as undergraduate and graduate research for 40 years. This tradition of studies was begun in theoretical discussions and methodological approaches very closely related to European schools, especially concerning iconographic studies on Greek vase painting. However, thanks to a maturation process of Archaeology in general as a discipline in Brazil and to a greater interest of Brazilian scholars in Greek pottery, this academic field has strengthened and became more dynamic, constantly promoting dialogues between Brazilian and foreign experts from different areas in a very consistent and richer interdisciplinary approach.

Classification and typological analyses for pottery artifacts have been continuously debated and developed by the laboratory through research projects and teaching activities, such as courses on Greek pottery taught by the coordinators of LECA and the study of the fragments from MMO-RT2 collection at MAE-USP. We intend to develop a methodological approach particularly applied as an interdisciplinary ceramic analysis which could offer some options for nomenclatures, expressions and vocabulary used for morphological, technical and decorative descriptions of Greek vases in scientific research and publications. From LECA’s perspectives, these methodologies14 include the understanding of morphological aspects, local (regional),

Concerning the scientific contributions of LECA, we can highlight the discussions and reflections on methodologies and perspectives of systematization of ceramic material and, consequently, the production of data and drawing corpora to be published in software databases in the public domain. This will allow different research perspectives on Greek pottery from different chronological styles. With regard to technological

Undergraduate and graduate monographs and dissertations employ the methodology developed by LECA, for instance; HORA, ongoing thesis about black and red-figure style in Thasos; MARTINS, 2015 and SEGER, 2015 on red-figure Attic pottery production; CARDERARO, 2016 about pottery from Campania; LOPES, 2016 on Apulian vases; and SABADINI, 2016 about Attic Geometric production. 14 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. Project of study and cataloguing ceramic material of MAE-USP collection: an exercise of analysis: FileMaker record with description of fragment number 75/2.12.

Figure 8. Project of study and cataloguing ceramic material of MAE-USP collection: an exercise of analysis: FileMaker record with description of the fragment 75/2.54. stylistic and chronological variations of vase productions and visual culture characteristics, i.e. the image in relation to its physical support. They also involve the contexts of manufacture, use, disposal of the artifact and the elaboration

of categories that systemize the process of describing the pieces (vases and fragments) according to their materiality: shape, surface treatment and ornamental aspects, paste components (Archaeometry) and ceramic colour, firing


Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza – An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery

processes and other technical aspects. This systematic information must be registered in order to elaborate an ‘identity card’ of each object, in which the description is accompanied by archaeological drawings and photographs. Exhaustive bibliographical references for comparanda must also be included in order to provide information on workshops and centers of production and recognition of chronological styles.

Dias, Carolina Kesser B.; Seger, Dayanne Dockhorn; Ogawa, Milena Rosa Araújo. 2017. Projeto Pipoca Clássica: o uso do cinema como ferramenta para discussão e ensino da Antiguidade Clássica. Revista História Hoje, v. 6, nº 12, p. 158-176. Dias, Carolina Kesser. B; Souza, Camila Diogo; Vergara, F. C. 2016. Recursos digitales y producción de conocimiento histórico fundado en evidencias materiales. Reflexiones sobre la elaboración de bases de datos para investigaciones en Arqueología clásica. In: Bresciano, Juan Andrés; Gil, Tiago. (Orgs.). La Historiografía ante el Giro Digital. Reflexiones teóricas y prácticas metodológicas. 1ed. Montevidéu: Ediciones Cruz del Sur, v. 1, p. 135-178. Dias, Carolina Kesser B.; Souza, Camila Diogo; Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2014. Laboratório de Estudos sobre a Cerâmica Antiga - LECA / UFPel. Cadernos do LEPAARQ (UFPEL), v. 11, p. 223-232. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2009. O Pintor de Gela. Características formais e estilísticas, decorativas e iconográficas. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 2 vols. (Tese de Doutorado). Dunnell, Robert C. 2007. Classificação em Arqueologia. São Paulo: Editora da USP. Tradução de Astolfo G. M. Araújo. Fleming, Maria Isabel D’A.; Bina, Tatiana; Teixeira-Bastos, Márcio; Martire, Alex; Gregori, Alessandro M. 2017. A Importância das Novas Tecnologias para a Arqueologia e suas Possibilidade de Uso. A Impressão 3D e os Projetos do LARP. VESTÍGIOS - Revista Latino-Americana de Arqueologia Histórica, v. 11, p. 57-79. Gerreau Esbach, K. L.; Ossa, A. Archaeological Data. Curation and the Use of Legacy Databases. In https://www. and_the_Use_of_Legacy_Databases. Access in 05.15.2014. Lessa, Fábio de Souza. 2006. Corpo e esporte em Atenas: análise de uma enócoa do Museu Nacional da UFRJ. PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 12, p. 105-119. Lopes, Andréia da Rocha. 2016. A harpa e o feminino na Magna Grécia: iconografia dos instrumentos musicais na pintura dos vasos ápulos (sécs. V e IV a. C.). Pelotas: Bacharelado em História, Universidade Federal de Pelotas (Monografia de Conclusão de Curso). Martins, Fernanda Barcellos. 2015. Reflexões acerca do papel de Eros no universo feminino: estudo iconográfico do lebes gamikos no período clássico. Pelotas: Bacharelado em História, Universidade Federal de Pelotas (Monografia de Conclusão de Curso). Meneses, Ulpiano Toledo Bezerra. 1983. Cultura material no estudo das sociedades antigas. Revista de História, São Paulo, n.115, p. 103-117. Museu Nacional Do Rio de Janeiro. Cerâmicas antigas da Quinta da Boa Vista. RJ: Museu Nacional de Belas Artes, 1996: pp. 31-38. Sabadini, Francisco de Assis. A Cerâmica Geométrica da Ática (1100-700 a.C.): Tradição e Inovação. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 2010, 3 vols. (Dissertação de Mestrado). Seger, Dayanne Dockhorn. 2015. Olhares antigos e modernos: a ideologia e a representação feminina em contextos de trabalho na Atenas clássica. Pelotas: Bacharelado em AntropologiaArquelogia, Universidade Federal de Pelotas (Monografia de Conclusão de Curso). Souza, Camila Diogo. 2010. As práticas mortuárias na região da Argólida entre os séculos XI e VIII a. C. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 2010, 3 vols. (Tese de Doutorado).

It is, therefore, with the understanding of the object and its materiality that it becomes possible to reach to the various functions, roles, interactions and meanings of this kind of material culture in the society and it is also viable to produce and publicize knowledge based on new technologies. The body and soul of LECA are to encourage and promote meetings and discussions about Greek pottery and its importance to knowledge construction processes of ancient societies as a growing interest beyond university boundaries, not restricted to archaeologists, ancient historians, experts in Classics and Ceramology, but for a general and wider public as well.15 Bibliography Bruno, Maria Cristina O.; Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara; Funari, Pedro Paulo 2001. A. Arqueologia do Mediterrâneo Antigo. Estudos em homenagem a Haiganuch Sarian. São Paulo: Museu de Arqueologia e Etnologia da Universidade de São Paulo: FAPESP: SBEC. Carderaro, Lidiane Carolina. 2016. Variações da imagem de Apolo citaredo na cerâmica de influência grega produzida na Campânia entre os séculos IV e III a.C. Pelotas: Programa de Pós-Graduação em História, Universidade Federal de Pelotas (Dissertação de Mestrado). Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2001. Os instrumentos musicais na vida diária da Atenas tardo-arcaica e clássica (550-400 a.C.). O testemunho de vasos áticos e de textos antigos. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, 3 vols. (Tese de Doutorado). Chevitarese, Andre Leonardo. 2003. Mulheres, espaço rural, e o pintor de Haimon. Análise do lécito ático do Museu Nacional do Rio de Janeiro. PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 9, p. 37-54. Correia, Larissa Souza. 2015. Representações de Atena em ânforas de figuras negras do século VI a.C.: um exercício de análise iconográfica. São Paulo: Universidade de Santo Amaro (Monografia de Conclusão da Especialização).

The laboratory also develops many activities and projects involving the non-academic public. For instance, the Pipoca Clássica project which aims at cinematographic exhibitions with multidisciplinary discussions. Additionally, since 2015, LECA focus on a juvenile audience from public schools (DIAS; SEGER; OGAWA, 2017) and in 2017 develops ‘O Barro’ project. This project deals with the use of clay and its importance for social and historical daily human activities through cinematographic production, movies, documentaries, short films from different historical and chronological contexts. The young audience will be encouraged to reflect upon the relationship between pottery and people. From a ludic and pleasant strategy, this project targets didactic approaches to ceramic material for juveniles aiming at our responsibilities as educators and the generic public as well. 15 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday


Revista do MAE, Anais II da Semana de Arqueologia v. 11, pp. 133-137. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2009. Apontamentos sobre a atribuição de vasos áticos: a produção do Pintor de Gela. Revista do MAE, v.19. São Paulo, p. 235-255. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2009. Abordagens metodológicas para o estudo de vasos gregos: a atribuição e a análise iconográfica. Revista Eletrônica Antiguidade Clássica, v. 004, p. 47-65. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2009. A organização das oficinas de cerâmica em Atenas. Revista Litteris, v. 3, p. 22/1-14. Francisco, Gilberto da Silva. 2012. Panatenaicas: tradição, permanência e derivação. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo (Tese de Doutorado). Francisco, Gilberto da Silva. 2008. Grafismos gregos: escrita e figuração na cerâmica ática do período arcaico (do século VIIVI a.C.). Revista do Museu de Arqueologia e Etnologia, Suplemento 6. São Paulo: Imprensa Oficial. Funari, Pedro Paulo A. 2001. MAE-USP amphora collection: vessels and inscriptions. Revista do MAE, 11, São Paulo: USP, p. 275-282. Hirata, Elaine Farias V. 1992. Os prótomos femininos de Gela: uma proposta de interpretação. Revista do MAE, 2, São Paulo: USP, p. 49-61. Hirata, Elaine Farias V. 1998. Terracotas tarentinas e o Culto Heróico em uma área colonial. Revista do MAE, 8, São Paulo: USP, p. 129-143. Lessa, Fábio de Souza; Sousa, Renata Cardoso. 2015. O agôn esportivo na cerâmica ática do período clássico. PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 21-1, p.72-85. Lessa, Fábio de Souza; Guimarães Neto, Edson Moreira. 2009. Atletas na imagética ática do século V a. C. PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 15-1, p. 26-41. Lessa, Fábio de Souza. 2005. Atividades esportivas nas imagens áticas. PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 11, p. 57-70. Regis, Maria Fernanda Brunieri. 2009. Mulheres nos sympósia: representações femininas nas cenas de banquete nos vasos áticos (séculos VI ao IV a. C.). Revista do Museu de Arqueologia e Etnologia, Suplemento 9. São Paulo: Imprensa Oficial. Sarian, Haiganuch. 1993. Poiêin-gráphein: o estatuto social do artesão-artista de vasos áticos. Revista do MAE 3. São Paulo: USP, p. 105 - 120. Sarian, Haiganuch. 1984. A cerâmica como documento arqueológico. Revista de Pré-História número 6. São Paulo: Universidade de São Paulo, pp. 196-204. Seger, Dayanne Dockhorn; Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2017. A representação feminina nos vasos cerâmicos áticos: o discurso iconográfico como método para novas reflexões. Cadernos do LEPAARQ, Vol. 14, n. 27, p. 133-156. Souza, Camila Diogo. 2015. A Arte Geométrica grega: considerações sobre a análise dos motivos figurados do repertório iconográfico geométrico argivo (900 a 700 a.C. aproximadamente). CALÍOPE (UFRJ), v. 1, p. 61-87. Souza, Camila Diogo. 2015. Les motifs ornementaux nonfigurés des vases à figures noires de la collection du Musée Royal de l’Ontario, Toronto, Canada: éléments iconographiques de tradition Géométrique? Interfaces Brasil/Canadá, v. 15, p. 211-251. Souza, Camila Diogo. (2015). As representações da morte na arte geométrica grega do século VIII a.C.: expressões de identidade coletiva ou individual. In: Ortega, A. M.;

Selected Bibliography Carderaro, Lidiane Carolina; Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2017. A imagem do jovem músico em agones musicais através da iconografia de vasos áticos. Cadernos do LEPAARQ (UFPEL), v. 14, p. 157-182. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara; Dias, Carolina Kesser B. (orgs.). 2015. Dossiê: Os vasos gregos do Museu Arqueológico de Ontário, Toronto. Interfaces Brasil/Canadá, v. 15. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2015. The presence of music in Greek worship: An iconographical approach. Chaos e Kosmos, v. XV, p. 01-40. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2014. Iconographical Representations of Musical Instruments in Apulian VasePainting as Ethnical Signs: Intercultural Greek-Indigenous Relations in Magna Graecia (5th and 4th Centuries B.C.). Greek and Roman Musical Studies, v. 2, p. 50-67. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2014. Abordagens mitológicas na iconografia funerária da cerâmica ática (510 - 450 a.C.): repensando a periodização. Classica: São Paulo, v. 27, p. 83-128. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2010. Digressões sobre o sentido e a interpretação das narrativas iconográficas dos vasos áticos: o caso das representações de instrumentos musicais. Revista do MAE, v. 20, p. 219-233. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2005. O testemunho da iconografia dos vasos áticos dos séculos VI e V a.C.: Fundamentação teórica para sua interpretação como fonte para o conhecimento da cultura e sociedade da Grécia Antiga. História em Revista (UFPel), Pelotas/RS, v. Especial, p. 1-222. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2005. Esporte e música na Grécia Antiga:uma abordagem baseada na interface entre a iconografia dos vasos áticos e os textos antigos. Classica: São Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, v. 17, n.17, p. 165-183. Cerqueira, Fábio Vergara. 2000. A Iconografia dos vasos gregos antigos como fonte histórica. História em Revista (UFPel), Pelotas, v. 6, p. 85-96. Correia, Larissa Souza; Souza, Camila Diogo. 2015. Representações de Atena em ânforas de figuras negras do século VI a.C.: um exercício de análise iconográfica. Revista do MAE, v.25. São Paulo, p. 83-103. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2015. ‘Les petits vases moches’ du Musée Royal de l Ontario. Interfaces Brasil/Canadá, v. 15, p. 280-307. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2014. Iconografia dionisíaca nos lécitos áticos de figuras negras do final do período arcaico (sécs. VI e V a.c.). PHOÎNIX, Rio de Janeiro, 20-2, p. 45-59. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2014. Artistic relations between attic vases producers from 510 to 475 B.C. reviewed by the attribution methodology. In: Oosterbeek, Luis; Fidalgo. Cláudia (Orgs.). Mobility and Transitions in the Holocene. 1 ed. Oxford: Archaeopress - Publishers of British Archaeological Reports, v. 9, p. 81-84. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2011. Atribuir ou não atribuir é uma questão? Comentários sobre a metodologia de atribuição de vasos de figuras negras do final do arcaísmo. Revista do MAE, n.21, p. 395-400. Dias, Carolina Kesser B. 2011. Reflexões acerca das relações artísticas entre produtores de vasos áticos (510-475 a. C.).


Carolina Kesser Barcellos Dias and Camila Diogo de Souza – An Overview of Brazilian Studies on Greek Pottery

Peloggia, A. U. (Orgs.). Entre o Arcaico e o Contemporâneo: ensaios fluindo entre Arqueologia, Psicanálise, Antropologia e Geologia. 1ed. São Paulo: IGLU Editora, v. 1, p. 81-118. Souza, Camila Diogo. 2010. As Práticas Mortuárias na região da Argólida entre os séculos XI e VIII a.C. Revista do Museu

de Arqueologia e Etnologia, Suplemento 13. São Paulo: Imprensa Oficial. Torralvo, Ana Claudia; Allegrette, Alvaro Hashizume. 1995. A coleção cipriota do MAE-USP: os exemplares da Idade do Bronze. Revista do MAE, 8, São Paulo: USP, p. 235-249.






Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side Alice Landskron1 Archaeological Research at the Site of Side

Numerous1 sculptures and sculptural fragments have been found at the site of Side in Pamphylia during the excavations since 1947; these are now on display in the Archaeological Museum in Side.2 In this paper I will focus on the evidence of the sculpture in Side, especially on the sculpture types which are featured on coins - mainly from Side itself - and on the historical context of the emissions.3 Furthermore, the aim of the paper is to contextualize the emission of coins featuring ideal sculpture types, the sculptural evidence in Side and the historical background by presenting and discussing a few examples.

Most of the sculptures and sculptural fragments were excavated in the years from 1947-1966 by the excavation team of Arif Müfid Mansel and Jale İnan. These findings and some recently excavated sculptures provide the material basis of the research project.10 A great many sculptures from Side can be dated to the Roman imperial period, whereby the production of most of the ideal sculpture was concentrated in the 2nd and 3rd c. AD. A number of pieces date to Late Antiquity (4th/5th c. AD), a period when some of the sculptures were also reused and re-worked.11 The majority of the portraits date to the 3rd and 4th centuries AD.12

Remarks on the History of Side4

A large number of the sculptures from Side were found in the ancient ruins in an architectural context and are now preserved in the Archaeological Museum at Side.13 Several sculptures were unearthed in the so-called Building M (Figure 1, map no. 25; Figure 2), some in the nymphaeum (Figure 1, map no. 3) and in the so-called Three-pooled fountain (Figure 1, map no. 13), at the city gate, in the temple area at the harbour (temple of Apollo and Athena, Figure 1, map no. 18/19),14 in the theatre (Figure 1, map no. 11), along the colonnaded street (Figure 1, map no. 15), at the Monument of Vespasian and at the agora (Figure 1, map no. 10). The majority of sculptures came to light in the so-called Building M (Figure 2), a central building on the east side of a large court.15 For this building some scholars have proposed the function of a library or even a ‘Kaisersaal’ or a Museion, the latter connected with the typical building in the prosperous period of the Second Sophistic during the 2nd c. AD in Asia Minor.16 Comparative studies on the sculptures (ideal sculpture, statues, and portraiture), the find spots and the context of similar buildings constructed in other cities, where the construction of a Museion is proven by epigraphical sources, will provide further knowledge and understanding in this matter.17

The ancient port-town of Side in Pamphylia is located near the modern city of Manavgat, east of Antalya on the south coast of Turkey. It was populated by Greek settlers from the Aeolian city of Cyme in the 7th century BC.5 The city was part of the First Persian satrapy since the late 6th c. BC and remained autonomous during this period of time until Side was conquered by Alexander the Great in 334 BC. The harbour town came to prominence after the Roman allies, the Rhodians, triumphed over Hannibal in 190 BC.6 Side is located on the trade route to Egypt and the Levant, favouring an economic growth of the antique harbour especially in the 2nd/3rd c. and also in the 4th c. AD.7 During this period of time Side developed into one of the richest cities in the region of Pamphylia and among other cities of the south coast of Asia Minor.8 The city coped successfully with the disruptive invasions of the Gothic tribes in the second half of the 3rd c. AD, and of the Isauran people in the mid-4th c. AD, and eventually enjoyed a new era of prosperity.9 When Side became a metropolis in the early 5th c. AD, a period of prosperity lasted until the Arab invasion in the 7th c. AD.

Most of the sculptures from Side were published in 1975 by Jale İnan, the Turkish archaeologist and director of the

[email protected] The fragments are stored in the depots of the Museum. The project on ‚Roman Sculpture from Side in context. The ideal sculpture‘, funded by the Austrian Science Fund, has been affiliated with the University of Graz since April 2016. 3  Additionally, the project on the ideal sculpture from Side examines sculpture types and coins. The basic publication on sculptures from Side at present: İnan 1975. 4  On the history of Side see Mansel 1963: 415; Franke et alii 1989: 1121; Nollé 1987: 253-264; and especially the detailed study by Nollé 1993: 37-143. 5  Mansel 1963; Mansel 1978; Atvur 2008: 89; Nollé 1993: 37-143. 154173; Nollé 2001. Arrian, Anabasis 1, 26, 4. 6  On the role of Side in piracy in Hellenistic times and on the early Roman period see e.g. Mansel 1963: 610; Brandt 1992, 85-87. 94-100. 7  Nollé 1987: 253-264 mentions the increasing importance of the Sidetan harbour on the route to the east during the military campaigns against the Persians in the 3rd c. AD. Nollé 1993: 94. 8  Nollé 1990: 259-260; Pekman 1989: 97-98. 9  On the invasions of the Isauran tribes in the 3rd c. AD in Pamphylia see Nollé 1987: 254-264; Brandt 1992; Nollé 1993: 167-169. On the Isauran tribes see Feld 2005. 1  2 

Today the excavations at Side continue under the direction of Hüseyin Sabri Alanyalı, Anadolu University at Eskişehir, who has led the archaeological work since 2009. 11  See İnan – Rosenbaum 1966; İnan 1975; İnan – Alföldi-Rosenbaum 1979; and also Linfert 1979 on the sculptures. 12  İnan 1965: 47-94; İnan – Rosenbaum 1966: 191-202. 13  See Mansel 1963: 109-121; İnan 1975: 265. 14  Mansel et alii 1951: 37-45; İnan 1975: 265. 15  On the site of the findings in Building M see Mansel 1963: 109-123; İnan 1975: 265; İnan – Alföldi-Rosenbaum 1979. 16  ‚Kaisersaal‘ or Museion: Mansel 1963: 109121; Nollé 1993: 80-88; Linfert 1995: 158-169; Nollé 2001: 396-398; Slavazzi 2007: 131-134. A Museion could also be part of other buildings (gymnasia/baths). Şahin 1999: 213-214 on epigraphic evidences for Museia in Asia Minor. Compare e.g. the ‘Marmorsaal’ in the Gymnasium of Vedius at Ephesus: Steskal, La Torre 2008: 1924. Strocka 2012: 209-210 excludes Building M from the list of libraries. 17  See e.g. Linfert 1995. 10 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 1. Map of Side (after Mansel 1963) excavations at Perge. In the volume J. İnan presents the sculptural finds from the beginning of the excavation in Side up to the 1960s. A total of 436 sculptures and fragments from the Roman period (statues, fragments, heads and portraits, statuettes, etc.) came to light during the excavations.

stopped the emission.21 Since the reign of Tiberius and notably under Nero the city had the right to mint bronze coins.22 Side developed into one of the richest minting cities in Roman times.23 This system remained in place until the reign of the Severans, then it changed to mintings of sestertii, depending on the new double denarii, the Antoninian, under Caracalla.24

The representation of statues on coins as a mirror of the sculptural decoration of a city has been discussed by researchers.18 I will focus on this phenomenon by presenting some examples from Side, and will demonstrate the similarity of figure types of sculptures and on coins and the historical contextualization of the emissions.

The minting of coins in Side in Roman times was frequently connected with the occasion of a celebration or an important event in the port-town, and the reverses were used as a medium of propaganda, especially from Septimius Severus up to Gallienus.25 A multifarious iconographic variety emerged on the reverses up to the reign of Aurelian, in the period

Sidetan Coin Emissions19 Side had the right to mint silver coins during the reign of the Persians and in Hellenistic times20 until Roman influence

On hellenistic emissions see Leschhorn 1989: 2342; Nollé 1990: 245248 n. 14 and 16; Brandt 1992: 82-85. 22  Coins with a value of 1 As, then during the 1st c. AD the value increased up to dupondia (2 asses) and sestertii (4 asses): Leschhorn 1989; Nollé 1990. An overview of the Sidetan mints is provided in Nollé, forthcoming. 23  Leschhorn 1989: 24-25; Nollé 1990: 248-249. 24  Atlan 1976: 130; Leschhorn 1989; Nollé 1990: 248. 25  The enthroned Athena, holding a figure of Nike with a laurel wreath and an aplustre refers to the sea power of the city and the harbour town. Even the value of the coin was marked up as the obverses show (5 Assaria – E; 6 = S, 8 = H, 9 = Theta; 11 = IA und 12=IB): Nollé 1990: 245-248. Leschhorn 1989: 23-44 (Hellenistic coins). See also Kraft 1972 and Howgego et alii 2005 on this subject in general. 21 

See e.g. Lacroix 1949; Mansel 1963: 107 fig. 83b; Mansel et alii 1956: pl. XIII fig. 47 and 48; XXV fig. 97; Zanker 1987; Nollé 1990; R.-Alföldi 1999; Landskron 2006; Boschung 2007; Rose 2011. During a lecture in Vienna in 2016, J. Nollé highlighted the importance of coins for archaeological research by sampling the emissions of Sagalassos. 19  On Sidetan coinage see in particular Atlan 1976; Leschhorn 1989: 23-42; Nollé 1989: 43-67; Nollé 1990; A corpus of coins from Side by J. Nollé is forthcoming. 20  Leschhorn 1989: 23-42 pl. I and II: most of the coins feature the head of Athena on the obverse and a figure of Nike on the reverse, symbolising maritime power. 18 


Alice Landskron – Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side

Figure 2. Side. So-called Building M, ‘Kaisersaal’ (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron) when the reformation of the monetary system shut down the city mints.26

emissions feature the temple and figures of Athena.32 The statue types of Nike refer to the statue of Nike by the sculptor Paionios of Mende, dated by inscription to 420 BC, and likewise to figures of the goddess on coins.33

One example of self-representation on Sidetan coins is the figure of the city representative as an enthroned woman, modelled on the Tyche from Antioch: numerous examples provide evidence that the city goddess wears a veil and a mural crown. A tholos on the Agora of Side was dedicated to the goddess Tyche.27 Statues and statuettes of Tyche came to light at different sites and Sidetan coins show the temple and the cult image of the goddess.28

Apollo was also worshipped in Side and had a temple next to Athena at the harbour, both temples being erected under the Severan dynasty.34 After that time, both gods were depicted in their temples on coin reverses.35 Apollo is featured on coins as Apollo Sidetes, Apollo the Sidetan, wearing a short tunic, a chlamys and boots, holding a laurel wreath or a rod with laurels on it.36 No sculptures referring to this statue type have survived so far, even though we can assume the existence of such figures, since the coins show both gods in a dextrarum iunctio gesture.37 Athena and Apollo as well as Nike appeared on coins also in the context of military events, especially against the Parthians and Persians, demonstrating the support of the gods to the Sidetan people.38

Athena was the most important goddess of Side, a fact which is verified by several coins, by a temple and by statues.29 The goddess is shown on Sidetan emissions with different attributes (Figure 3. 4):30 Athena and weapons represent arête and military strength, the goddess and Nike holding a palm branch stands for victory, a common motif from classical to imperial times. Athena depositing a stone in an urn stands for the administration and for a working constitution in the harbour town. The olive tree next to Athena refers to the fertility of the soil and to the groves in the environs. The goddess Athena had a temple at the harbour of Side and is also represented in a number of statues.31 Various Sidetan

Before the middle of the 3rd c. AD, Side held the title of twice neokoros, and a coin of Caracalla features an enthroned Athena holding a bust of the emperor; behind her there is a ship so 257); 168-170 no. 94 pl. LXXIX, 13 (Nike, inv. 42). 32  Nollé 1990: 253 fig. 8 no. 30-33. 37; Nollé, forthcoming. 33  Hölscher 1974. Hatzi 2002: 294-296. 34  On the architectural ornament of the temple see Mansel 1963: 7796 figs. 60. 62. 65. 35  Nollé 1990: 253 fig. 8 no. 37. 38. 36  Nollé 1990: 253 fig. 8 no. 34-36. 37  Nollé 1990: 253 fig. 8 no. 39. 40. Among the sculptural finds only some heads and a torso which probably shows Apollo are preserved: İnan 1975: 2931 no. 4 and 5 (head and torso of Apollo, inv. 49); 114-116 no. 49 (head of Apollon, ‚Sauroktonos‘, inv. 323); 117 f. no. 52 (torso of Apollo). There is no sculptural evidence so far on the Sidetan figure type of Apollo with a tunic, chlamys and boots. Another head of Apollo (inv. 881) was found some years ago and is unpublished. See also İnan 1970; Linfert 1979: 781. On emissions regarding ‚homónoia‘ between cities in Pamphylia see Nollé 1990: 260-262 no. 108-116; Franke and Nollé 1997. 38  Nollé 1987: 253-264; Nollé 1990: 256-257; Brandt 1992.

Nollé 1990: 248. On the dedication of the temple to Tyche, see Mansel 1956: 46-50; Mansel et alii 1956: 35-37 pl. XIII 47 and 48; Mansel 1963: 102-107 fig. 83b; Nollé 1990: 251 fig. 10 no 48 and 49. On the restoration and anastylosis of the temple see Alanyalı 2013: 123-124 fig. 2. A tholos dedicated to the goddess Tyche was erected on the upper agora in Sagalassos and likewise the temple and a sculpture of Tyche is shown on the emission of Claudius II (Auction Roma ESale 12, 1.11.2014, no 1063). 28  Mansel et alii 1956: 3137 pl. XIII 47 and 48; XLII-XLVIII; Mansel 1963: 107 Abb. 83b; İnan 1975: 105-110 no 40-46 pl. XLIX-LI. 29  See Mansel 1963: 77-96 fig. 66, for the temple of Athena; İnan 1975: 53-57 no. 13. 14; 142-145 no. 72, for statues of the goddess Athena. 30  Compare Leschhorn 1989; Nollé 1990. 31  Over lifesize figures of Nike: İnan 1975: 43-47 no. 9 pl. XXI (Nike, inv. 58); 133-135 no. 64 and 65 pl. LXIV (two figures of Nike, inv. 57 and 26  27 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 3. Athena at an urn. Sidetan coin, Trebonianus Gallus (after Nollé 1990: fig. 8 no. 32)

Figure 4. Athena and an olive-tree. Sidetan coin, Philippus II (after Nollé 1990: fig. 8 no. 33)

it is likely that Caracalla sent a bust by ship for the temple in Side.39 The city gained the third neokoros during the reign of Valerian and Gallienus between 253-260 AD.40 The emission of that period depicts three temples on the reverse: in one of the temple buildings an equestrian statue of an emperor is depicted. During the reign of Tacitus (275/76 AD) Side held the title of ‘six times neokoros’ which was unique among all other cities.41 Side provided the troops in Syria with supplies of grain due to the rich harvest in the fruitful plain of the river Melas.42 Coins show the river god Melas together with the city goddess or even alone (Figure 5).43 One recently-found statue (Figure 6) of the river god refers to the river which supplied the city with water.44 The statue of Melas was erected in the early 3rd c. AD on the occasion of the construction of the bath complex in the south of the city, the so-called harbour baths.45 An aqueduct Nollé 1987: 104-105 pl. 9; Nollé 1990: 255 fig. 12 no. 50 and 61. Nollé 1990: 254-255. See Burrell 2004: 181-188. 41  Compare the honorary inscription from Side for the priestress Modesta: Nollé 2001, 416-419 no. 112 and note 162. This is yet another sign of the importance of Side as a prosperous harbour town and a significant naval base – nauarchis in the 3rd c. AD, which also supplied the troops in the east. 42  Nollé 1989: 49-51 and Nollé 1990: 257 f. points to the importance of the river for the agricultural and economic growth of the city. 43  Nollé 1989: 49-51 fig. 28; Nollé 1990: 257-258 fig. 17 no. 84-87. On the iconography of the river-god Melas: Vollkommer 1992: 413-414; Nollé 1993: 36. 44  Atvur 2008: 49, Archaeological Museum, Side, inv. 522. The figure refers to a common type of reclining river god: see e.g. Klementa 1993: 201-221; Aurenhammer 1990: 102-107. A statue of a drunken Dionysos leaning on a Silenus was displayed in the nymphaeum on the agora in Sagalassos. This statue type is also depicted on the reverse of a coin of Marcus Aurelius (Auction Helios 5, 25.6.2010, no. 105). Compare a figure-group in Rome: De Angelis d’Ossat 2002: 104-105 (Palazzo Altemps, inv. 8606, from the Quirinal; 160-180 AD, Roman copy of a Hellenistic sculpture). For the sculptural decoration of nymphaea in late antiquity see e.g. Auinger and Rathmayr 2007; Manderscheid 1981. 45  Mansel 1963: 143-148. On literary sources regarding the river Melas see Nollé 1993: 153-154. The coin emissions are contemporaneous with the sculpture. 39  40 

Figure 5. River god Melas. Sidetan coin, Antoninian of Caracalla (after Nollé 1990: fig. 17 no. 86) of 35 km length supplied the Roman baths with water from the river, likewise the great nymphaeum outside the city wall and the fountains near the agora. After the destruction of the aqueduct during the invasion of the Goths the noble Sidetan Bryonianos Lollianus and his wife Quirinia Patra restored the water supply and were therefore honoured by the city with statues and in an inscription.46 Asclepius was one of the most important gods in Side, as we know of several well-known physicians in Side from Hellenistic to Roman times. This is documented by the soMansel 1963: 51-52; Nollé 2001: 398-407; Aristodemou 2009: 75-76. 507-508 (IK Side I 82, 38). On a representative function of sculptures in public spaces see e.g. Stewart 2003; Smith 2006. 46 


Alice Landskron – Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side

Figure 6. Statue of Melas. Archaeological Museum Side, inv. 522 (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron) called characters in the book of Epidemies by Hippocrates and Memnos of Side.47 Two other famous physicians, Artemidorus and Marcellus from Side are known from inscriptions; the latter lived in the 2nd c. AD and was consulted by Hadrian, Antoninus Pius and Herodes Atticus.48

Gordian III with a bust of his wife Tranquillina on the obverse, likewise shows the Three Graces.52 Another example from Side was struck under the emperor Macrinus and can be dated in 217/218 AD (Figure 8).53 In this case it is very likely that the statue group depicted on the emission refers to the sculptures in the theatre.

Asclepius is portrayed mainly on coins. Furthermore several statues and statuettes illustrating this god were found in Side and overlife-size statues of Hygieia and Asclepius were erected in the so-called building M.49

Several statues, heads and fragments of Hermes were found in the city of trade and commerce.54 One of the highlights in the museum in Side from the so-called Building M is the torso of Hermes untying his sandals (Figure 9), a Roman statue after an original of Lysippus.55 A coin from Sybritia/Sivritos in Crete shows Hermes untying his sandal (Figure 10):56 this figure certainly refers to the statue of Lysippus.57

The Three Graces or Charites (Aglaia – ‘Splendor’, Euphrosyne – ‘Mirth’, and Thalia – ‘Good Cheer’), belong to the entourage of Aphrodite and were uncovered in the theatre in Side.50 The charming statue group is one of the finest examples of the type (Figure 7). Not only do the three graces represent charm and grace but also joy and beauty. They were especially favoured in the 2nd and 3rd c. AD and also struck on coins to bring a sense of splendour, attractiveness as well as wellbeing to the city. A fine statue group of the Three Graces is known from the South Baths in Perge but does not bear much resemblance to the Sidetan statue group with regard to style and treatment of the surface.51 A coin from Cremna struck by

regarding the statues from Side. 52  For the typology of the themes on reverses compare e.g. the emissions in Lycia under the reign of Gordian III.: von Aulock 1954; see also Filges 2015, especially 109-208. 53  For Charites on coins see Imhoof-Blumer 1908: 197-207, esp. 203 pl. XII no 29; Sichtermann 1986: 207-209; Nollé 1990: 253-254 fig. 11 no. 55. 54  İnan 1975: 1929 no. 3 (statue, type Kyrene-Perinth, inv. 45); 32-40 no. 6 (head of Hermes Ludovisi, inv. 154); 6572 no. 19 (statue, ‚Apollo Centocelle‘, inv. 163); 74-77 no. 22 (statue, Hermes Richelieu, inv. 30); 9295 no. 32 (torso, Hermes, untying his sandal, inv. 41). See also the comments of Linfert 1979. 55  İnan 1975: 92-95 no. 32, pl. XLII (torso, Hermes, inv. 41); İnan 1993: 105-116. 56  Fuchs 1979: 104107 fig. 97 (Stater from Sybritia/Crete, 350-300 BC). 57  İnan 1975: 92-95; İnan 1993: 105-116. Roman copy describes a variant of a statue type which goes back to in this case – a Hellenistic statue or original: for further reading see e.g. A. Anguissola, in Friedland and Sobocinski 2015: 240-259; Kousser 2008: 18. 130-151. Other copies are exhibited in the Louvre, Paris (from the Theatre of Marcellus, Rome), in the Archaeological Museum, Antalya, from Perge, and in Copenhagen, the so-called sandal-tying-Lansdowne, from the Villa Hadriana: Özgür 1996: no. 6 (statue of Hermes, inv. 3.25.77, from the south baths in Perge); two copies from Tivoli: Siebert 1990: 368-369 s. v. Hermes XVI, K I. no. 958 ad; Raeder 1983: 34-36 cat. I 6 (Kopenhagen, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek, inv. 2798); 56-57 cat. I 38

Nollé 1983: 219-223; Nollé 1990: 253 fig. 10 no. 4547; Nollé 1993: 173179. 48  Nollé 1983; Nollé 1993: 173-179; Schelenz 1904: 171. 49  Building M: İnan 1975: 98-101 no. 36 (Hygieia, inv. 27); 149 no.77 (Asclepius, inv. 47). For dedications to the goddesses in Side see Nollé 1993: 257-282; in Pergamon see von Fritze 1908. 50  İnan 1975: 158-161 no. 85 (Side, Archaeological Museum, inv. 69 and 142). 51  Özgur 1996: no 30 (Antalya, Archaeological Museum, inv. 17.29.81 – head; 4.22.82 – figures; second half of the 2nd c. AD). İnan 1970: 20-21. In addition, the scholar mentions the stylistic differences of sculptures from Perge and Side. The latter generally have smooth moulding whereas the statues from Perge possess a more linear and severe style. See also İnan 1965: 53. Similar stylistic observations 47 


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Figure 7. Statue group of the Three Graces. Archaeological Museum Side, inv. 69 and 142 (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron) the 2nd and 3rd c. in Side. Prize crowns as a symbol for an agonistic competition are repeatedly depicted on coins, notably under the reign of the late Severans, especially during the reign of Elagabalus.59 The emissions boomed in the first quarter of the 3rd c. and culminated during the reign of Gordian III who established the Pythian Agon as a privileged imperial agon in Side.60 Most of the coins of the emperor and his wife Tranquillina celebrate the imperial oikoumenikos agon, in which athletes and artists from all over the empire were allowed to participate.61 A marble base of a golden portable altar shows a prize crown on which is inscribed ‘imperial privileged Pythian games’ flanked by a herald and a trumpeter. On coins the prize crown is often flanked by wallets, referring to the prize money for the victors. The other sides depict scenes of the discipline (artistic, athletic, and chariot racing-discipline). The base was erected by two leading Sidetans, a father and son, and dates to the 3rd c. AD. Several coins praise the agons with the words ‘Pythian games in Side in perpetuity’ (IC AΓONA TA PYTHIA).62

Figure 8. Three Graces. Sidetan coin, Macrinus (after Nollé 1990: fig. 11 no. 55)

On the imperial cult in Baalbek under the Severans see Wienholz 2016. 60  Weiß 1981; Nollé 1986: 204-206; Nollé 1989: 47-49; Nollé 1990: 259. 61  Nollé 1990: 258-259. 62  Nollé 1989: 47-49 fig. 26. Another important competition in Side was the Agon Mystikos dedicated to Dionysos and Demeter. This Agon was established under Hadrian. Coins from the reign of Valerian and Gallienus refer to this agon: Nollé 1986: 204-206. See also Theotikou 2013: 350-356. An example of homónoia between Side and Delphi, as a consequence of the imperial Pythia in Side under Gordian III according to Apollo and the Pyhthian Agon is depicted on coins: Apollo Pythios from Delphi passes a prize crown over to the Sidetan Apollo. This coin was struck under Valerian I: Nollé 1990: 262 no. 11759 

An agonistic tradition in Side is proved by statues of athletes and by the evidence of coins.58 Numerous agonistic competitions sponsored by noble Sidetans were held in (Munich, Glyptothek, inv. 287); Maderna 2004: 367368. 58  Nollé 1986: 204-206; Nollé 1989: 47-49; Nollé 1990: 258-259; Nollé 1994. See also Herz 2016. On the epigraphic evidence regarding the agonistic tradition in Side see Nollé 2001: 423-456. On agons see also Gardiner 1930.


Alice Landskron – Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side

Figure 10. Hermes untying his sandal. Stater from Sybritia (after Fuchs 1979: fig. 97)

Figure 9. Statue of Hermes untying his sandal. Archaeological Museum Side, inv. 41 (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron) A statue of an athlete, very likely a discobolus, was found in the so-called Building M beside a niche (Figure 11).63 Some samples of Greek statues show similar movements of the athlete, for example the Ludovisi discobolus (ca. 470), a body of the athlete in a herm, and a Roman variant form of a bronze statue.64 Although the arms are missing, the dynamic expression of the movement is quite obvious. As it is based on the statue in Side and a bronze statuette in the National Museum in Athens, it provides a good impression of how to complete the figure.65 Coins show the movement of the 119; Emissions for homónoia between Side and other cities emerge under Gordianus III, Valerian and Gallienus: Franke and Nollé 1997: 190-196. 63  İnan 1975: 13-18 no. 1 pl. VI-VII (Ludovisi Discobolus, inv. 38); İnan 1979: 17-21 pl. 11, 1; see also the Discobolus of Myron from Building M: İnan 1975: no. 2 (Discobolus of Myron, inv. 39); Rausa 1994: 261-271 fig. 8.18 and 8.19. On the different sequences of the movement see Wünsche 2004: 102-117. 64  So-called Ludovisi herm: İnan 1979: 18-19 pl. 11, 2; De Angelis d’Ossat 2002: 74 (Rome, Museo Nazionale Romano, Palazzo Altemps, inv. 8639; 2nd c. BC1st c. AD, after a bronze figure, 5th c. BC); Fuchs 1979: 54-55 fig 41; Rausa 1994: 171 no. 1.1; 175 no. 4.9; TzachouAlexandri 1989; Newby 2005: 264-265. In general for statues of athletes see Zanker 1974. 65  Tzachou-Alexandri 1989: 262-263 no. 155 (statuette of a discobolus from the Kabeirion in Boeotia: Athens, National Archaeological Museum inv. X7412; 450 BC); 109 fig. 13. 14; see also Kaltsas 2004: 200 no. 89. Similar movements of the Ludovisi discobolus in Side are seen for example in a torso in Delos (Zapheiropoulou 1998:

Figure 11. Statue of a discobolus. Archaeological Museum Side, inv. 38 (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron)


Greek Art in Motion. Studies in honour of Sir John Boardman ​on the occasion of his 90th birthday

Summary The historical context of sculptures and coins in Side is evident and can be proved by the examples discussed above. Selected subjects were chosen to illustrate the depiction of important buildings and events, military activities, and different kinds of self-representation of the city, especially in the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD. Images on coins function to provide the citizens with a sense of civic pride, to celebrate imperial honours, and to promote the image of a wealthy and prosperous city, a center of trade, commerce and culture. Acknowledgements For the first time I had the honour of meeting the jubilarian Sir John Boardman at the conference in Lisbon, whose scholarship had a great influence on me and on everybody who has studied archaeology. I thank the scientific committee and especially Diana Rodriguez-Perez for the invitation to participate in this inspiring and stimulating conference. I am also grateful to the editors for their patience. Concerning the sculpture project in Side I am thankful to Peter Scherrer (University of Graz) and the director of the excavation in Side, Hüseyin S. Alanyalı (University of Eskişehir) for the cooperation, and the director of the Archaeological Museum in Side, Güner Kozdere. I also thank Sarah Cormack and Gordian Landskron; particular thanks are due to the Austrian Science Fund for the funding of the project. Bibliography Alanyalı, H. 2013. Archaeological Work at Side in 2011 and 2012. In ANMED 11: 121-133 Aristodemou, G. 2009. Sculptured Decoration of Monumental Nymphaea at the Eastern Provinces of the Roman Empire. In T. Nogales Basarrate and I. Rodà de Llanza (eds.), Rome and the Provinces: Models and Diffusion. In Hispania Antigua 3: 149-160. Roma: L‘Erma di Bretschneider Atlan, S. 1976. 1947-1967 yılları Side kazıları sırasında elde edilen sikkeler. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi Atvur O. 2008. Side. Führer durch die antike Stadt und Museum 6 Antalya: Auinger, J., E. Rathmayr. 2007. Zur spätantiken Statuenausstattung der Thermen und Nymphäen in Ephesos. In F. A. Bauer and C. Witschel (eds.), Statuen in der Spätantike: 237-269. Wiesbaden: Reichert von Aulock, H. 1954. Die Münzprägung des Gordian III und der Tranquillina in Lykien. In IstMitt Beih. 11. Tübingen: Wasmuth Aurenhammer, M. 1990. Die Skulpturen von Ephesos. Bildwerke aus Stein 1: Idealplastik I. In Forschungen in Ephesos 10, 1. Vienna: Verlag der ÖAW Boschung, D. 2007. Die Repräsentation von Geschichte im Stadtbild der Kaiserzeit. In O. D. Cordovana and M. Galli (eds.). Arte e memoria culturale nell’età della Seconda Sofistica: 103-107. Catania: Edizioni del Prisma Brandt, H. 1992. Gesellschaft und Wirtschaft Pamphyliens und Pisidiens im Altertum, Asia Minor Studien 7. Bonn: Habelt Burrell, B. 2004. Neokoroi: Greek cities and Roman emperors. Leiden: Brill De Angelis d’Ossat, M. 2002. Scultura antica in Palazzo Altemps. Museo Nazionale Romano. Milan: Electa

Figure 12. Statue of the discobolus by Myron. Archaeological Museum Side, inv. 39 (©Alice Landskron, Photo: Gordian Landskron) Ludovisi discobolus in a similar fashion to the statues.66 The athlete is forced into the circular format and therefore bent down a little more. The statue type of a discobolus featuring different phases of the movement is relatively common on coins. A torso of the discobolus of Myron (ca. 450 BC) is preserved in Side (Figure 12).67 99, Museum Delos, inv. A4276) and a bronze statuette in New York (Metropolitan Museum, inv. 78). See also a bronze statuette of a discobolus in Stuttgart with both arms raised: Wünsche 2004: 109 fig. 12. 13 (Württembergisches Landesmuseum). Greek vases feature this movement similar to the coins, likely caused by the ‚Bildträger‘: Wünsche 2004: 474 cat. 25 (Attic red-figure cup by Onesimos, from Vulci: Munich, Antikensammlung, inv. 2637, 470 BC). 66  Tridrachm from Cos 480-450 BC: Tzachou-Alexandri 1989: 322 no. 207; Wünsche 2004: 109 fig. 13. 14. 67  İnan 1975: 19 no. 2 pl VIII. IX (inv. 38); Rausa 1994: 262264 fig. 8. 18.


Alice Landskron – Sculptures and Coins: A Contextual Case Study from Side

Feld, K. 2005. Barbarische Bürger: die Isaurier und das Römische Reich. Berlin: De Gruyter Filges, A. 2015. Münzbild und Gemeinschaft. Die Prägungen der römischen Kolonien in Kleinasien. Bonn: Habelt Franke P. R., W. Leschhorn, B. Müller and J. Nollé 1989. Side. Münzprägung, Inschriften und Geschichte einer antiken Stadt in der Türkei. Saarbrücken Franke P. R., M. K. Nollé. 1997. Die Homonoia-Münzen Kleinasiens und der thrakischen Randgebiete. Saarbrücken: Saarbrücker Druckerei und Verlag Friedland, E. A., M. G. Sobocinski and E. Gazda (eds.). 2015. The Oxford Handbook of Roman Sculpture: Oxford: University Press von Fritze, H. 1908. Asklepiosstatuen in Pergamon. In Nomisma II: 19-35. Berlin: Mayer und Müller Fuchs, W. 1979. Die Skulpturen der Griechen. Munich: Hirmer Gardiner, E. N. 1930. Athletics of the Ancient World. Oxford: Clarendon Press Hatzi, G. E. 2002. The Archaeological Museum of Olympia. Athen: John S. Latsis Public Benefit Found Herz, P. 2016. Agonistik und der Kaiserkult. In A. Kolb and M. Vitale (eds.). Kaiserkult in den Provinzen des Römischen Reiches: Organisation, Kommunikation und Repräsentation: 123-132. Berlin: De Gruyter Hölscher T. 1974. Nike der Messenier und Naupaktier in Olympia. In JdI 89: 70-111 Howgego, Ch., V. Heuchert, A. Burnett. 2005. Coinage and Identity in the Roman Provinces. Oxford: University Press Imhoof-Blumer, F. 1908. Nymphen und Chariten auf griechischen Münzen. Athen: Hestia İnan, J. 1965. Römische Porträts aus dem Gebiet von Antalya. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi İnan J., 1970. Three statues from Side. In AntK 3: 17-33 İnan J., 1975. Roman Sculpture in Side. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi İnan J., 1993. Der sandalenbindende Hermes. In A. H. Borbein (ed.), AntPl 22: 105-116 İnan J., E. Alföldi-Rosenbaum 1979. Römische und frühbyzantinische Porträtplastik aus der Türkei: Neue Funde. Mainz: von Zabern İnan J., E. Rosenbaum, 1966. Roman and Early Byzantine Portrait Sculpture in Asia Minor. London: Oxford University Press Kaltsas, N. (ed.) 2004. Agon. Athens: Kapon Editions Klementa, S. 1993. Gelagerte Flussgötter des Späthellenismus und der römischen Kaiserzeit. Köln: Böhlau Kousser, R. M. 2008. Hellenistic and Roman Ideal sculpture. Cambridge: University Press Kraft, K. 1972. Das System der kaiserzeitlichen Münzprägung in Kleinasien. Materialien und Entwürfe. Berlin: Mann Lacroix, L. 1949. Les reproductions de statues sur les monnaies grecques: la statuaire archaïque et classique. Bibliothèque de la Faculté de philosophie et lettres de l’Université de Liège 116. Liège: Faculté de philosophie et lettres Landskron, A. 2006. Repräsentantinnen des orbis Romanus auf dem sog. Partherdenkmal von Ephesos. Personifikationen und Bildpropaganda. In. W. Seipel (ed.), Das Partherdenkmal von Ephesos, Schriften des Kunsthistorischen Museums 10: 102-127. Wien: Phoibos Linfert, A. 1979. In BJb 79: 781-785 Linfert, A. 1995. Die Skulpturen des Kaisersaales von Side (Pamphylien). In H. v. Hesberg (ed.), Was ist eigentlich Provinz? Zur Beschreibung eines Bewußtseins: 153-169. Köln: Hundt

Maderna, C. 2004. Die letzten Jahrzehnte der spätklassischen Plastik. In: P. Bol (ed.), Geschichte der antiken Bildhauerkunst II. Klassische Plastik: 303-382. Mainz: von Zabern Manderscheid, 1981. Die Skulpturenausstattung der kaiserzeitlichen Thermenanlagen. Berlin: Mann Mansel, A. M. 1956. Bericht über die Ausgrabungen und Untersuchungen in Pamphylien in den Jahren 1946-1955. In AA: 34-119 Mansel, A. M., 1963. Die Ruinen von Side. Berlin: De Gruyter Mansel, A. M., G. E. Bean and J. İnan. 1956. Die Agora von Side und ihre benachbarten Bauten. Bericht über die Ausgrabungen im Jahre 1948. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi Mansel, A. M., E. Bosch and J. İnan, 1951. Vorläufiger Bericht über die Ausgrabungen in Side im Jahre 1947. Ankara: Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi Newby, Z. 2005. Greek athletics in the Roman world: victory and virtue. Oxford: University Press Nollé, J. 1983. Die im 3. Epidemienbuch des Hippokrates und Memnon von Side, EA 2: 85-98 Nollé, J. 1986. Pamphylische Studien 1-5. In Chiron 16. München: Beck Nollé, J. 1987. Epigraphische und numismatische Notizen 1-4. In EA 10: 101-106 Nollé, J. 1990. Side. Zur Geschichte einer kleinasiatischen Stadt in der römischen Kaiserzeit im Spiegel ihrer Münzen, AW 21: 244-265 Nollé, J. 1993. Side im Altertum. Geschichte und Zeugnisse 1. Bonn: Habelt Nollé, J. 1994. Götter, Städte, Feste.