Colour in Late Antique Art: An Aesthetic Exploration of Polychromy Bente Kiilerich Bergen 2023 1 Acknowledgements Many ideas have informed the writing of this book, the main part of which was written in Athens in the autumn of 2017 during a sabbatical leave from the University of Bergen. In connection with presentations and publications on various aspects of colour and aesthetics, I should like to thank the following persons in chronological order: Liz James for inviting me to contribute to the Byzantium on Display panel at the 21st Byzantine Congress in London in 2006 and address the aesthetics of marble and coloured stone. The text was published in extended form in Arte medievale, 2012 Valentino Pace for providing me with the opportunity to speak about the polychromy of the stucco saints in the Tempietto Longobardo, at the L’VIII secolo, un secolo inquieto convegno at Cividale in 2008, published in 2010 Marina Righetti for accepting a longer article on the Tempietto stuccoes, ‘Colour and Context’, in Arte medievale 2008 [2011] Melina Païsidou, most importantly, for giving Hjalmar Torp and me access to the scaffolding in the Rotunda at Thessaloniki and permission to study and take photographs of the martyrs close-up in 2009 Roger Scott for suggesting the topic attire and personal appearance in Byzantium for the Byzantine Days of Istanbul Conference in 2010, published in 2014 Ine Jacobs for the invitation to the Production and Prosperity in the Theodosian Period conference in Leuven in 2010, where I focused on the aesthetics of the Porta Marina opus sectile decorations, subsequently published by Peeters Federico Guidobaldi for accepting Optical Colour Blending in the Rotunda Mosaics for Musiva & Sectilia 2011 (2014) Cecilia Olovsdotter for the opportunity to speak about Abstraction in Late Antique Art at the Symbolism and Abstraction conference at the Swedish Institute at Istanbul in 2013, the papers from which were published by De Gruyter 2 Paolo Liverani and Paola Andreuccetti for the invitation to Il colore nel Medioevo at Lucca in 2013, from which issued the article Subtlety and Simulation in opus sectile Robin Cormack for suggesting my name for the Leventis Foundation symposium The Mosaics of Thessaloniki Revisited at the Courtauld Institute of Art in 2014; the papers, including Colour, Light and Luminosity in the Rotunda Mosaics, were published by Kapon Editions in 2017 Richard Woodfield for accepting my overview Towards a “Polychrome History” of Greek and Roman Art in Journal of Art Historiography 2016 Silvia Pedone and the Visual Studies Rome Network for the chance to give a lecture in Rome in 2017 on Purple-eyed Martyrs in the Rotunda Marina Prusac Lindhagen for asking me to contribute to the Perceiving Matter, Visual, Material and Sensual Communication from Antiquity to the Middle Ages symposium in Oslo in 2019, the papers of which I subsequently co-edited with Kaja Kollandsrud and Astri Karine Lundgren for the CLARA special issue no. 1 on polychromy 2020 Mati Meyer and Charis Messis for the opportunity of writing about Gender and Fashion in Byzantium for a forthcoming Routledge Handbook on Sex and Gender in Byzantium My special gratitude goes to Hjalmar Torp who introduced me to the Rotunda in Thessaloniki and the Tempietto at Cividale del Friuli and has shared his research on the monuments with me, even including a short text of mine in his fundamental two-volume monograph La rotonde palatine à Thessalonique 2018. On our many travels we have had the opportunity to see most of the art works discussed in the present text. As always, Hjalmar has read and re-read parts of the manuscript and made helpful comments and suggestions. The book is dedicated to Hjalmar on the occasion of his 99th birthday, 14 April 2023. 3 Acknowledgements Introduction 2 5 I: The (lost) colour of sculpted physiognomies 21 Reconstructing polychromy – some problems, 6 Late antique polychromy – the state of the question, 8 The concept colour and colour terms, 10 Colour, shine and motion, 14 Two portrait busts from Thessaloniki, 24 The colour of garments, 26 Hair colour, 34 Eye colour, 43 Skin colour, 45 Two portrait busts from Stratonikeia , 46 Concluding remarks, 55 II: The (lost) splendour of imperial portraits 56 Constantine the Great in colour, 56 The polychromy of a Theodosian empress, 59 Polymateriality, 65 The colour of ivory, 69 Diptychs as reflections of large-scale statues, 73 Floridi colours and jewels, 77 Porphyry statues, 78 The lustre of statues in gold, silver and bronze, 81 Concluding remarks, 92 III: Colour as communication on official monuments 94 The Arch of Constantine, 94 Visualising colour on the Arch of Constantine, 96 The Arch of Galerius in Thessaloniki , 102 The Obelisk base in Constantinople, 107 Visualising colour on the Obelisk base, 108 Concluding remarks, 115 IV: The (lost) colour of Christian sculpture 117 The colours of sarcophagi in Rome, 118 The polychromy of the Sarigüzel sarcophagus, 121 The colour of sacred portraiture, 128 Hair colour, 129 Eye colour, 134 The radiant body, 138 An Apostle bust in colour, 140 The seated Christ in colour, 142 Polychrome stucco figures, 145 Concluding remarks, 152 Conclusion 154 Basic hues and saliency, 154 Mimetic, emphatic and symbolic polychromy modes, 156 Bibliography List of photographs and colour reconstructions Index 4 160 193 198 Introduction The early twenty-first century has witnessed a growing interest in antique sculptural polychromy and many publications on various aspects of colour have appeared.1 To visualize the lost polychromy of marble sculpture and, to a lesser extent, of bronze statues, painted copies of Greek and Roman works have been shown in worldwide travelling exhibitions in the years between 2003 and 2023. The popularity of the subject goes forth from the number of cities in which the painted reconstructions have been on display: Munich, Copenhagen, Rome, Basel, Amsterdam, Istanbul, Athens, Hamburg, Cambridge Mass., Los Angeles, Frankfurt, Kassel, Madrid, Berlin, Stockholm, Göttingen, Heidelberg, Bochum, Vienna, Tübingen, Oxford, Mexico City, San Francisco and most recently New York.2 The main attractions of these exhibitions are the three-dimensional reconstructions of statues in natural scale, the full size making it easier to gain an idea of the strong impact of colour. A particularly well-known example is the Augustus Prima Porta. Slight remains of pigments, chiefly red and blue and some gilt, were observed by autopsy when the statue was discovered in the mid nineteenth century. These remains have now been substantiated by scientific research, and the polychromy of the Parian marble statue appears reconstructed in several, somewhat discrepant versions.3 For large architectural monuments, which are difficult or impossible to reproduce on their proper scale, digital projection of colour on to the surface has proved especially useful. By means of this method, one can gain a general idea of how, for instance, the reliefs of the Ara Pacis Augustae may originally have looked when gilded and painted.4 Focusing on the potential polychromy of sculptures and monuments rather than on their now colourless forms, new and important aspects of the works come to the fore. Unfortunately, attempts to recreate long lost colour are fraud with problems. Recent overviews include Liverani and Santamaria, Diversamento bianco; Østergaard and Nielsen, Transformations; Abbe, ‘Polychromy’; Kiilerich, ‘Polychrome History’; Østergaard, ‘Colour Shifts’; Brinkmann, Gods in Color: Polychromy; Grand-Clément, ‘Couleurs et polychromie’; Jockey, Les arts de la couleur; Skovmøller, Facing the Colours of Roman Portraiture; Brøns & Hedegaard, ‘Lost in Translation’; Ierodiakonou, Colour Psychology; Wharton, History of Color; Stager, Seeing Color in Classical Art. 2 Catalogues include, Brinkmann and Wünsche, Bunte Götter; Østergaard, ClassiColor; Liverani, I colori del bianco; Brinkmann, Gods in Color: Painted sculpture; Brinkmann, Gods in Color: Polychromy. For the public’s reaction to the Gods in Color exhibition, see RoseGreenland, ‘Color Perception in Sociology’. 3 Liverani, ‘Der Augustus von Prima Porta’; Liverani, ‘L’Augusto di Prima Porta’; Zahonero and Mendiola Puig, ‘La policromia del Augusto de la Prima Porta’. 4 Rossini, ‘I colori del bianco’; Rossini, ‘I colori dell’Ara Pacis’; Foresta, ‘La policromia dell’Ara Pacis’; Foresta, ‘La funzione della policromia’. See also Erigin, ‘The Colours’. 1 5 Reconstructing polychromy – some problems An impressive range of non-destructive and microanalytical techniques such as energy dispersion X-ray fluorescence spectroscopy, Raman spectroscopy, photoinduced luminescence imaging and scanning electron microscopy, to name but a few, are used in search of lost colour.5 The scientific equipment has made it possible to detect minute traces of pigments that are not visible to the naked eye. As such, science has definitely progressed. Yet, in spite of the advances in technology, many issues with regard to polychromy remain unsolved. Some colours are better preserved than others; certain pigments change chemically over time – some turn from blue to green, others from red to black, while others again may disappear without leaving any trace at all.6 Even when a given pigment is attested by scientific methods, the question often remains whether it was applied in its pure state or mixed with other pigments, and whether it played a major or minor role in the overall polychrome scheme. For instance, traces of Egyptian blue found in painted carnation do not imply that the portrait heads in question had blue skin; it must be merely one of many chromatic ingredients.7 Moreover, each hue existed in a variety of tones, shades, saturations and luminances. By mixing and matching, the artists could achieve a large number of chromatic effects. The material evidence does not permit a reconstruction of a total and accurate colour scheme and the potential range of hues at disposal is impossible to establish. Different binding agents, such as egg-white or wax, gave different chromatic results. Moreover, the effect depended on whether the paint was thinly or opaquely applied, on the finishing touches, the degree of burnishing and polish and on several other factors. Many variables, from the establishing of specific pigments to their manner of application, must therefore be taken into consideration. Given these uncertainties, it must be acknowledged that it is practically impossible to recreate the appearance of the original polychromy to its full extent.8 Accordingly, most proposed colours are open to discussion and the reconstructions – whether in the form of painted copies, digital projection or coloured sketches – will undoubtedly be readjusted in coming years. It is noticeable that the very same paint traces have been interpreted differently by different scholars at different times. For an example of the use of XRF, see, e.g. Alfeld, ‘The Eye of the Medusa’, about the Siphnian frieze at Delphi. For an overview, see Østergaard, ‘Colour Shifts’, 159-164. 6 Technical aspects of the reconstruction of polychromy have been investigated by the members of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen’s ‘Tracking Colour’ project. See, Østergaard, Tracking Colour I-V. 7 For Egyptian blue, see most recently Skovmøller, Brøns & Sargent, ‘Egyptian Blue’. 8 As Østergaard, ‘Colour Shifts’, 165, admits: we shall never know what the ancient sculptures looked like. See further Skovmøller, ‘Between the Ideal and Artistic Practice’. 5 6 Not least are the reconstructions coloured, so to speak, by the ‘period eye’.9 In reconstructing polychromy, then, there is a caveat: whether based on actual traces of paint or on comparison with works in other media we may create not only a different image but perhaps a totally misleading one. In effect, rather than recreating the lost colours of a bygone age, one runs the risk of transposing modern notions onto ancient surfaces, inventing new images, rather than re-inventing the ancient ones. An ‘archaeological’ reconstruction is not a neutral and objective procedure; to a large extent, it is a subjective ‘artistic’ interpretation.10 Because of the hypothetical nature of colour reconstructions, these are easy prey to criticism. A main objection against contemporary Polychromie-Forschung has been that scholars of polychromy, whether the colours are based on the use of scientific equipment or by more modest theoretical and empirical approaches, are tempted to exaggerate and choose maximalist solutions when it comes to recreating colour.11 Trying to reconstruct polychromy, a methodological problem is whether one should include only what is either clearly visible to the naked eye or securely attested by scientific methods, or whether one should also include hypothetical colours. To make matters worse, in many cases, no traces of paint remain at all. This unfortunately goes for most late antique sculpture, which is mainly preserved in an achromatic condition.12 See, e.g. Mielke, ‘Die polychromie iberischer Skulpturen’, colourplate 3, with three different reconstructions of the so-called Dama de Elche, ca 400 BC; Neri, ‘Restoration’. 10 Compare the works by the contemporary Italian artist Francesco Vezzoli (b. 1971). In 2014 he recreated the polychromy of half a dozen ancient Roman heads: Teatro Romano exhibition, MoMa PS1, New York, 26 Oct 2014 - 9 March 2015; see http://momaps1.org/exhibitions/view/392 ; Marconi, ‘Teatro Romano’. In 2016, in collaboration with Sotheby’s auction house in London, Vezzoli exhibited Telefoni bianchi (Portrait of a Roman Actress, 2015) which re-invents a strong polychromy in an early imperial head. See, Ancient Marbles: Classical Sculpture and Works of Art Sale, Sothebys’ 13 June 2016: http://www.sothebys.com/en/news-video/blogs 11 Junker, ‘Form und Farbe’, arguing for ‘minimalist’ reconstructions, as opposed to the ‘maximalist’ solutions presented in particular by the Brinkmann team, e.g., their reconstruction of the Alexander sarcophagus in Istanbul, see, e.g., Brinkmann and KochBrinkmann, ‘On the Reconstruction of Antique polychromy Techniques’, 133, fig. 88. Most recently Schmaltz, ‘Neue Untersuchungen an der Statue der Phrasikleia’ and Kantarelou et al., ‘New Investigations’, argue that there is no physical evidence of the gold and silver attachments to the archaic statue reconstructed by Brinkmann, Koch-Brinkmann, Piening, ‘The Funerary Monument to Phrasikleia’, fig. 156 and fig. 159 (‘reconstruction of metal appliqués, rosette with gilded petals and application of lead tin foil’). According to Schmalz, the only secure evidence consists of traces of red and purple on the dress and remains of pigments on the skin parts. 12 Smith, ‘Statue Practice in the Late Roman Empire’, 9, records 176 statues or part of statues, 576 detached heads and 65 freestanding busts; except for half a score in bronze, the rest are in (now colourless) marble. 9 7 Late antique polychromy – the state of the question Students of ancient polychromy bestow most interest on Greek art and on Roman art of the high imperial period.13 Many have focused on medieval church art, from wooden sculpture and altarpieces to digital reconstructions of the colourful facades of Gothic cathedrals.14 The medieval east has lacked behind, but most recently the polychromy of Byzantine architectural sculpture and reliefs has been targeted in a comprehensive monograph.15 Whereas research has been performed on early Christian sarcophagi, research on the colour of late antique secular sculpture is scarce except for the Tetrarchic frieze from Nicomedia.16 The limited concern with the polychromy of this period can be explained by several factors: For one, late antique studies remain very much text-based rather than monument-based.17 Also the greater popularity of Greek and earlier Roman art, say, the Parthenon and the Ara Pacis versus the Arch of Constantine, should be taken into account. Furthermore, late antiquity falls somewhat uneasily between two chairs, that of Antiquity and that of the Middle ages, or between archaeology and art history.18 Studies of late antique sculpture – from the third century to the ‘disappearance’ of statues around the early seventh century19 – usually address the material from the archaeologist’s point of view as it appears in its present colourless state, only rarely touching upon art-historical and aesthetic questions of colour.20 Following the exceptional find of the Tetrarchic frieze at Nicomedia with its surprisingly wellpreserved colours, this situation may begin to change.21 For the Roman period, see Bradley, Colour and Meaning; Abbe, ‘Polychromy’; Skovmøller, Portraits and Colour-codes in ancient Rome; Skovmøller, Facing the Colours. 14 See, e.g., Verret and Steyart, La couleur et la pierre; Fachechi, ‘Quando le cattedrali non erano bianche’; Kollandsrud & Streeton, Paint and Piety; Buchlow, ‘There is more to Colour’. 15 Pedone, Bisanzio a colori. 16 Liverani, ‘Osservazioni sulla policromia e la doratura della scultura in età tardoantica’; Liverani, ‘Late antiquity’. Sarcophagi have been analysed by Sapelli, Sargent and Siotto in various publications, see below chapter 4; Agtürk, The Painted Reliefs. 17 Formisano, ‘Towards an Aesthetic Paradigm of Late Antiquity’, 278 notes that ‘Late Antiquity remains a field situated within the study of history’; further, 278: the periodical ‘Antiquité tardive has been directed primarily at historians and archaeologists’. Formisano’s own focus is on literary aesthetics. Like Antiquité Tardive, the Journal of Late Antiquity has a historical rather than an art-historical profile. 18 Late antiquity is no discreet chronological period, and one can argue for both a short and a long duration. See, most recently, Lizzi Testa, ‘Introduction’, in eadem, Late Antiquity in Contemporary Debate, vii-xxx. 19 For the ‘end’ of sculpture, see, e.g. Kiilerich, ‘Sculpture in the Round in the Early Byzantine Period’; Anderson, ‘The Disappearing Imperial Statue’; Machado, ‘Statue Habit’. 20 Recent studies of statues include: Bauer and Witschel, Statuen in der Spätantike; Gehn, Ehrenstatuen in der Spätantike; Kovacs, Senatoren und Gelehrte; Smith and Ward-Perkins, The Last Statues of Antiquity, with the Oxford LSA online database. 21 Agtürk, ‘The New Painted reliefs’ and the monograph The Painted Reliefs. 13 8 The lack of interest in the potential colour of late antique imperial statues and monuments is somewhat paradoxical, since because of a lack of modelling, many of these works appear to require colour to a larger extent than the earlier ones. Moreover, with less interest bestowed upon the sculpting of statues, it would seem logical to assume that the artists now put more focus on the painting of statues. I argue that our understanding of both late antique (secular) and early Christian sculpture is seriously hampered by the loss of paint, because even more than that of earlier antiquity, the plastic arts of late antiquity ‘calls for colour’. In its current mainly achrome state of preservation, the sculpture cannot be taken at face value, since the face preserved is only a partial one. When polychromy is restored, seemingly lacklustre statues and reliefs take on a different guise. Colour was important in all aspects of imperial propaganda. Large-scale monuments required a salient polychromy that by means of strong contrasting colours communicated specific political and dynastic messages. For instance, the individual elements of the narrative frieze on the Arch of Constantine would have been much easier to grasp when coloured. It is my contention that with paint added to the surfaces of late antique monuments such as the Arch of Constantine and the Obelisk base in Constantinople, we will gain a more positive impression of what are often deemed mediocre reliefs. In official portraiture other factors were stressed. The semi-divine nature of the ruler came to the fore in expensive materials, such as bronze, silver and gold. These imperial images, that emphasised imperial splendour, were both polychrome and polymaterial. To catch a likeness in private portraits, some artists observed the model in order to render specific features, while others followed standard descriptive techniques. In both cases, colour could be deployed to characterise the subjects. Turning to Christian sculpture, remains of pigments on early Christian sarcophagi from Rome provide a basis for further study of how colour extended the meaning of represented scenes and served an important aesthetic function. While colour cannot gloss over the fact that sculpture did not hold the same importance in later as in earlier antiquity and that the output did significantly decrease not only in quantity but also in quality, it must be taken into account in order to get the ‘full picture’. In order to visualise this, the present study includes some tentative reconstructions of colour in reliefs and sculpture in the round. Any attempt of reimagining no-longer-extant paint is obviously problematic, and the proposed reconstructions do not pretend to recreate the original appearance of the works – an endeavour that is next to impossible. The propositions are not documentary evidence but serve merely to present a potential chromatic range. By using oldfashioned hand-colouring on paper, the images do not become alluring to the extent that they may trick anyone into perceiving them as the ‘real thing’. In some instances variant propositions are presented, in other instances colours are suggested but no sketches supplied, as criteria for a convincing scheme are wanting. To aid us in our reconstitutions, some clues can be found in the sculptures themselves. Incisions may have served as guiding lines demarcating areas of different 9 colour; depth of folds and manner of carving with different degrees of finishing and surfaces prepared for the application of other material can also give some information. Empty eye sockets and holes in earlobes hint at polymaterial inlays. A general idea can be gathered from analogy. Art historical and archaeological material, foremost mosaics and paintings, provide valuable information on aesthetic and chromatic preferences. Here we endeavour as far as possible to compare like with like. Thus for the visualising of colour on a presumably private portrait, as far as possible comparisons are made with representations from secular contexts such as floor mosaics from ‘private’ villas. For reconstructing the lost colour of imperial sculpture, representations of emperors in painting (imperial cult chamber in Luxor temple) and mosaic (San Vitale, Ravenna) are consulted. For the colour of Christian sculpture, church mosaics (Rotunda, Thessaloniki) are called into evidence. Finally, contemporary written sources that mention colours of hair, eyes and clothes are discussed. The concept colour and colour terms The interpretation of Greek and Latin colour terms is quite problematic; at times it is uncertain whether different words stand for different hues or are merely alternative names for largely identical chromatic phenomena.22 There exist, for instance, many words for ‘white’: Given that polychrome sculpture did not necessarily imply a total and strongly covering of all visible surfaces but might include some ‘whitish’ areas, this range of hues must be considered in the discussion of polychromy. Plato distinguishes between whiteness and the colour white (Theaetetus 156e; 182b).23 He holds that the most beautiful white is the one that is unmixed (Theaet. 53ab). Greek variations include galáktinos (milk white), elephaístinos (ivory), and many others.24 Latin, similarly, has various designations for the whitish range, namely: albus, candidus (shining), lacteus (milk white) and niveus (snow white). These may be supplemented with, for instance, marmareus (marble white) and argentus (silvery white).25 The slightly different tints and saturation and the varying brightness of the whites are the result of several factors, such as material differences and variant surface treatments. Turning to the purplish range, it is difficult to associate a specific ‘violet’ word, for instance orphninon, with a specific physically attested colour, except that Greek colour terms, see Dürbeck, Farbenbezeichnungen; for Latin, André, Etude; Clarke, Imagery of Colour and Shining. 23 Txapartegi, ‘Plato’s Color Naturalism’, 332. 24 Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 20-77. 25 For Latin colour terms in the white range, see André, Étude, 25-42; Clarke, Imagery of Colour, alphabetical list. For visual interpretations of white in Antiquity, see Mandel, ‘On the Qualities’; Barry, ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’. 22 10 orphni(n)on lies on the dark end of the scale. In the Timaeus, Plato describes orphnion as a darker shade of halourges, which is a mixture of red, white and black/dark (Tim. 68b 8-c1). With more black added we get orphninon (Tim. 68c 1-2). This suggests a dark reddish violet. Describing the wings of birds Ps.-Aristotle explains the effect of light: plumage exposed to the light is halourges, with less light it becomes orphnion (De col. 792a 25-27, cf. 794b 4). It is quite possible to imagine the colour of a dark purple to purplish black. We may take a further lead from Ps.-Aristotle: When dyeing wool, he explains that orphninon is brighter on black than on white wool, because the spaces in between the hair receive no dye but remain white (De col. 794b 5-6). Strictly speaking halourges (halourgos) means ‘the work of salt’ or ‘wrought in the sea’, indicating the colour of the sea, thus sea purple (Lat. purpureus). The value of the term in the purplish violet range is wide, as many different shades could be obtained from the murex. For porphyroun (which is close to a synonym of halourgos) Theophrastus similarly names white, black and red (De sensu 77). Thus, rather than a bluish, it may have a reddish tint, somewhat like a dark red wine. The colour, of course, depends on the texture of the substance to which it belongs: silk and woolen textiles, a block of porphyry and dark berries would present a variety of purple shades.26 Alethinoporphyreos, ‘imperial purple’ is equally problematic; while we may associate the hue with that of Justinian’s chlamys in the San Vitale mosaics, the murex purple and the textile colorants came in a large variety. The precise hue of a given colour word is often uncertain, thus, for instance, glaukos can mean anything from blue to green to grey to yellow, which obviously is of limited avail for visualising eyes of this hue (see below, chap. I).Another problematic term phaios, used as a colour for hair, seems to be able to stand for almost any hue between light and dark.27 By modern authors, it is most often translated grey, the meaning it has acquired in Modern Greek.28 However, phaios is acknowledged to originally mean shining.29 The root of the word phai- suggests light, as in phaos, phos and phaidros: bright, shining. It is combined with lampros as in lamprophaes, bright-beaming (Orph. H. 78.2) and used about the sun: lampros phaos eelioio (Il. I.605). Plato states that phaios is a mixture of melas and leukos (Tim. 68c3- 4). But Aristotle holds that all colours between the darkest and the lightest consist of a mixture of black and white (De Sensu 439b-440a).30 Aristotle also states that it is a kind of black or dark (De sensu 442 12: to phaion melan ti einai), suggesting that it lies For the word in connection with textiles, see Brøns & Dross-Krüpe, ‘The Colour Purple’ For other purple textile words, see Bogensperger ‘Purple and its various Kinds’. 27 Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 78-84. 28 Platnauer, ‘Greek Colour Perception’, 156 includes phaios among his words for grey, noting that it is first used by Plato. Grey: Bruno, Form and Colour, 91; James, Light and Colour, 51; Ierodiakonou, ‘Plato’s Theory’, 227, 229; Waterfield, Timaeus. Gage, Colour and Meaning, 60, states ‘phaion, now translated as ‘grey’, in spite of conceding that it was ‘originally meaning ‘shining’ as well’. 29 Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 78; cf. Gage, Colour and Meaning, 60. 30 E.g. Sorabji, ‘Aristotle, Mathematics and Colour’, 295-296. 26 11 on the dark end of the scale. Both black and white can modify phaios, thus leukophaios, a light variant, and melamphaios, a dark variant, describe figs (Athen. 3.13). This could be respectively (unripe) greenish figs and (ripe) purplish figs.31 From this it may be proposed that phaios, close to black, and applied to figs may designate, at least in some contexts, a dark purple. Plato specifies that phaios mixed with xanthos (yellow) produces pyrron (Tim. 68c 3). Pyrrós, flame-colour, is usually held to be yellowish red. If flame-colour is between yellow and phaios on the yellow-red range of the spectrum, it would seem that phaios is either a kind of red and/or a designation of brightness in the sense that by adding luminance to xanthos you get a flaming orange-red. Thus, if we take our point of departure in the colour of figs, one might visualise red or purple at one end, yellow at the other, and in between orangered, pyrron. This would be a relative distribution of hues. Whatever the chromatic value, at least grey added to yellow would hardly make red.32 The imprecise application of colour terms is a drawback when it comes to reconstructing polychromy from written sources. Although the word glaukos, for example, can describe eyes, it is difficult to find a modern equivalent, as neither green, blue or grey covers all aspects of the term. In fact, eyes that are designated glaukoi may be somewhere in the green-blue-grey range, but they are probably primarily experienced as gleaming and shining, their luminance being more significant than their specific hue. These few examples disclose the difficulty of interpreting the semantic value of ancient colour words and applying these to the archaeological material. Another problem is the relationship between colour terms and actual pigments (Fig. 0. 1). For instance, would a painter use minium or cinnabar to get pyrros, yellow ochre to render xanthos? Pliny distinguished between florid and austere colours. The austere pigments – red and yellow ochres, carbon black and chalk white, that made up the four-colour palette – were commonly available across the empire, whereas the florid colours – the red minium and cinnabaris, the blue armenium, the green chysocolla and the two purples indicum and purpurissum were the most rare and precious hues that were appreciated above the rest (NH 35.30). Late antique statue painters must have had access to the same minerals as their Greek and Roman predecessors and undoubtedly preferred pigments that produced the most saturated colours.33 31 Platnauer, ‘Greek Colour Perception’, 154; ripe and unripe figs range from green to red and brown, towards violet as seen in nature and in Roman paintings; thus phaios in connection with figs is of little help in nailing its chromatic characteristic. 32 Levides, ‘Why did Plato’, gets out of the predicament by associating pyrron with the pigment ochre: grey + yellow making a dull yellow. 33 Theophrastus’ On Stones is the best ancient source for the minerals used to produce pigments. For paintings of the Hellenistic period, see Kakoulli, Greek Painting Techniques. Blume, ‘Bright pink’, 168, notes red and yellow ochre, hematite, goethite, cinnabar, madder lake, vanadium, azurite, Egyptian blue, malachite, celadonite, lead white and black coal among the repertoire for Hellenistic statues. 12 Fig. 0. 1.Lapis lazuli, zinnabar, below: malachite, azurite, haematite. Athens, New Acropolis Museum (photo: author) 13 Colour, shine and motion What emerges from descriptions of chromatic phenomena in the antique world is that a given colour was perceived as a totality of texture, hue, saturation/intensity and luminance. The ancient viewer did not break the phenomenon into distinct parts like the modern hue-saturation-luminance triad.34 As frequently noted, by chroma/chros, colour/skin is understood the substance as a whole: the colour being an inherent property of the object to which it belongs.35 The relation between colour and light has often been stressed: porphyreos means shining and leukos embraces both white and bright – radiance and shine. But even shinier, presumably, is lampros, which is primarily a term of brightness (as in a lamp): ‘bright, brilliant, radiant and splendid.’ As a shiny colour or quality, it is often used about garments.36 In Plato’s mixtures, lampros is an ingredient of both kuanos (Tim. 68c 5-6) and xanthos (68b 5). Thus it can ‘highlight’ both the dark and the light end of the scale. It may be wondered whether lampros has a hue in itself, or whether it mainly intensifies the brightness of other hues, as Ps.-Aristotle notes in connection with halourges: ‘it is bright (lampron) when the rays of the sun are a weak mixture of white (leukos) and ‘shady’ (skieros)’ (792a 15-17). An important and more problematic aspect, which has been subject to less research, is the relation between colour and motion. As reflected in ancient terminology, antique and Byzantine viewers tend to perceive colour as subject to fluctuation and movement. This is, in fact, a fundamental characteristic of chromatic phenomena in the natural world. The sea and the sky change with the changing weather and with the movement of the sun; the plumage of a bird takes on different colour depending on the way it is hit by light; a flower becomes bright before it withers. The examples are legio. The connection between colour and movement was a given in antiquity: In Homer, movement and colour are linked: porphyreo refers to the swelling of the sea (Il. IV. 16), and other Greek colour words similarly derive from verbs of motion.37 Argos means shining and glistening. But it can also suggest swift, as in Homer’s swift-footed dogs (podas argoi; 18.578). Silver, argyros, is related in meaning. The verb aiollo denotes to shift rapidly to and fro or to shift colour. The adjective aiolos suggests quick-moving as well as glittering and sheening. In the Odyssey, the Phaiacian dancers’ feet twinkle with glittering motion (Od. VIII, 260265) and in the Homeric Hymn to Apollo (201-203), we also encounter the marmarygai of the feet, flashes of light and radiance (aigle) shining around Apollo. As Cf. Clarke, ‘The Semantics of Colour’, who believes that colour was at the intersection of several cognitive domains such as colour, light, movement, texture and mental states. 35 Walter-Karydi, ‘XPOC’; Carastro, ‘La notion de khros chez Homère’. 36 Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 26. 37 See Schwarzenberg, ‘Color, Light, and Transparency’. 34 14 Little and Scott explain in their Greek lexicon, all swift motion causes a kind of glancing or flickering light. Thus colour, shine and motion are interrelated. The fleeting quality of colour, its potential for motion, plays a significant role in late antique aesthetics. In the marbles used for walls and floors of churches and other buildings, the intricate veins form illusive patterns that often course colours to vary considerably from one part of the stone to the next: in one stone, red veins give way to purplish spots, in another marble, green clasts alternate with black spots, while other visual properties are characteristic of yet other types of stone. In the marbled aesthetic one cannot easily separate the colour of the veins and striations visible on the surface from the matrix of the stone. The fleeting colours make illusion of movement. Describing the marbles in the Hagia Sophia, Paulus Silentiarius follows their swirling patterns: he notes the ever-moving windings in a block of Carian stone and presents other stones as gleaming or twinkling with little stars. In the green Thessalian stone are flashes (marmaryges) of black.38 The vast expanse of the grey-veined white Proconessian marble that covers the floor makes the surface expand giving the impression of gentle movement. It could be described as the billowing waves of the ocean.39 Comparing a marble (marmora) floor with a sea (mar) in motion is a metaphor that easily springs to a Greek mind.40 One is also reminded of the shimmering movement of marble caused by water in pools, as it was laid out, for instance, in a dining-room floor at Faragola in Puglia.41 Moreover, marmaryge indicates a twinkling.42 The late antique concern with dynamic coloristic phenomena, which we propose may have a bearing on the attitude to sculptural polychromy, is found not only in monumental settings but also in miniature scale. Colours were an important feature of the luxury arts.43 A particularly intriguing example is provided by the extraordinary Lycurgus cup in the British Museum (FIG. 0.2) that turns from green to red exemplifying the quality of aiollo, to change colour. The provenance of the cup is unknown and there are no secure chronological criteria, but the work is generally See Kiilerich, ‘The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble’, esp. 11; Schibille, Hagia Sophia. See Barry, ‘Walking on Water’. 40 See Barry, ‘Walking on Water’; Barry, Painting in Stone, 197. 41 Volpe, ‘Musiva’; Volpe & Turchiano, Faragola, Vople & Turchiano, ‘’Faragola’. 42 Pentcheva discusses the concept of marmaryge in several publications, e.g., ‘Glittering Eyes’; see further her articles ‘The Perfect Icon’, ‘Moving Eyes’, ‘Hagia Sophia’. 43 Elsner, ‘Late Antique Art’, discusses various aspects of the visual culture focusing both on small scale works and on large monuments. He demonstrates the interest in ‘exquisite miniatures’. But except for honey-coloured agate, grey-white marble and green glass, 294, 305, 307, no colour terms appear; Stirling, ‘Prolegomena to the Study of Portable Luxury Goods’, 212-213 points to an increasing taste for polychromy in luxury goods. 38 39 15 Fig. 0.2. Lycurgus cup. British Museum: red and green alternate in the glass (photo: author) 16 believed to date from the fourth century. The dramatic scene carved in high relief shows the king Lycurgus being throttled by vines in revenge for having wronged Dionysos. But rather than the drama of the storyline, it is the drama of the colour that perplexes. Made of mould-blown glass, the most extraordinary quality of the cup is its ability to change colour: it is opaque green in reflected light and translucent red in transmitted light.44 In order to explain this spectacular transformation, the composition of the glass has been subject to scientific analysis. Although the procedure is not entirely clear, chemists have proposed that minute, that is nano size, gold and silver particles in colloidal glass may account for the special effect.45 The striking visual effect of green to red transformation is attested in connection with clothes, silken textiles being fabricated in a dichrome play of red and green: a combination referred to in poetic expressions as prasinorodinon (around the tenth century).46 A ‘greenish red’ may seem implausible.47 Still, the interaction of the two hues makes perfect sense: If woven of different warp and weft threads one side shimmered reddish, the other greenish, depending on how the light caught up and reflected off the silk. The artists designed dazzling colour impressions in silks, a related play of visual effects to those encountered in the Lycurgus cup. Fragments from many sites of dichroic glass, which may change from green to red or from greenish grey to yellow, prove that the Lycurgus cup was not unique. Several ancient texts also mention colouristic effects of glass.48 In the second century Achilles Tatius writes about a cup that ‘when the glass bowl was empty, the carved grapes were unripe, but filled with wine, the grapes ripened’ (Leucippe and Clitophon, 2.3.2): Oμφαξ μεν αυτων εκαστος εφ οσον ην κενος ο κρατηρ. Εαν δε εγχεης οινου, κατα μικρον ο βοτρυς υποπερκαζεται και σταφυλην την ομφακα ποιει. Such visual phenomena were apparently widespread and in fashion throughout late antiquity. In the early fourth century a certain Vopiscus refers to ‘party-coloured cups that change colour’,49 and the sixth-century poet Venantius Fortunatus praises a snow-white calyx (calix niveus) ‘diffusing colours through the wine’ (Vita sancti Martini 2.84-85).50 An idea is provided by the Rubens Vase carved from white to honey-coloured Harden and Toynbee, ‘The Rothschild Lycurgus Cup’; Scott, ‘A Study of the Lycurgus Cup’; Freestone, Meeks, Sax, Higgitt, ‘The Lycurgus Cup – a Roman Nanotechnology’, 272, X-ray analysis showed nanoparticles of a silver-gold alloy with a ratio of silver to gold of ca 7:3; Elsner, ‘The Lycurgus Cup’; Whitehouse, Cage Cups, no. 13, 87-91. 45 A colloid is a mixture in which one substance of microscopical insoluble particles (e.g., gold) is suspended in another substance (e.g., glass); see Poon, ‘Colloidal Glasses’. 46 Koutava-Delivoria, ‘Les sceaux et les étoffes’, 183, n. 45. 47 Cf. Wittgenstein: ‘Nothing can be red (all over) and green (all over) at the same time’, see the discussion in Westphal, Colour, 86-112. 48 See, for instance, Whitehouse, Cage Cups, nos. 6, 11, 12, 28, 49. 49 See Freestone et al, ‘The Lycurgus Cup’, 275. 50 Roberts, ‘Light, Color, and Visual Illusion’, 116; for crystal, see Crowley, ‘Crystalline Aesthetics and the Concept of the Medium’. 44 17 Fig. 0.3. Trivulzio cup, Milan Archaeological Museum (photo: author) agate with vine stems and grapes in high relief and open work.51 So, one can imagine a rich variety of glass with multiple colours and especially striking effects caused by impressive transformations in hue. The so-called diatreta, or cage cups, made from two or more layers of differently coloured glass, also play on visual effects, if less spectacular. Cups of different shape but with related open work decor are preserved from various places. In one of the finest, the Trivulzio cup in Milan, an open work decoration of circles in light brown, blue and green is attached to the body by means of filaments of glass. (FIG. 0.3).52 Because of the fragility of the material, most glass vessels have unfortunately long since been broken to pieces and discarded. Some may have gone into secondary use, as the glass could be melted to be reused in new works. Whitehouse, Cage Cups, no. 1, 200-203. Roffia, ‘La coppa Trivulzio’. For the technique, see Cholakova et al., ‘Glass Coloring Technologies of Late Roman Cage Cups’. 51 52 18 Glass was employed for large-scale works such as the opus sectile panels from Kenchreai, an exceptional find that in spite of its fragmentary state preserves an idea of the original splendour.53 But it was especially in wall mosaics that the potential of coloured glass came to the fore. Even now, the silver and golden mosaic surfaces appear to be gleaming with a flickering light which changes with the hour of the day. Glass tesserae were set at different angles and in different designs to catch the light and give an impression of motion. This was evoked in various ways: In Galla Placidia’s mausoleum at Ravenna, ca 450, and in the baptistery of Giovanni in Fonte at Naples, ca 410, the stars that glimt from the blue skies of the cupolas suggest different kinds of movement. In the mausoleum, the golden stars swirl in concentric circles around the light cross. In the baptistery, the stars seem to glimmer from different distances in the sky, some blinking like shooting stars.54 This impression is probably caused by their difference in size, intensity and hue. Combinations of gold, silver and white make for glimmering variety among the stars. In general such visual effects of implied motion depend on lightning and viewing conditions as well as on the disposition of each individual viewer. In these instances, it is not the image as such that moves but the viewer who finds it hard to rest the eye upon any particular spot. The viewer’s restless eye thus brings about a sensation of movement to the imagery. In addition to glittering motion, as in the glinting stars, by means of colour shifts, artists could convey the impression of soft vibration. In the San Vitale mosaics at Ravenna, a variety of ornaments ranging from discs to broken rainbows create various degrees of motion. A particularly intricate design lines the intrados of the presbytery arch.55 A multi-coloured ornament stands out from a dark blue ground; in its repeated, symmetrical but highly complex design of discs and abstracted floral elements in tones of yellow, red, green, white and black it shows an unprecedented poikilia. Focusing on the ornament, the colours shift and the impression changes back and forth from the two-dimensional to the threedimensional (FIG. 0. 4). The mosaicists apparently wanted to dispense with recognizable subject matter and create a fantastic non-figuration, a meta-image. By combining gradual shifts with contrasting juxtaposition of colour and alternating two- and three-dimensional effects, the artists composed a dynamic visual expression. Similarly, in other San Vitale non-figurations, some mosaics show gliding changes that convey the impression of a vibrating surface, in others the juxtaposition of strongly contrasting hues and irregular outlines brings about a sensation of For these, see Ibrahim et al., Kenchreai; Kiilerich & Torp, ‘From Alexandria to Kenchreai’. For the iconography of the starry sky, see Swift and Alwis, ‘The Role of Late Antique Art in Early Christian Worship’, and Ranaldi, ‘Dalla realtà sensibile all’astrazione’. 55 Discussed by Andreescu-Treadgold, ‘The Mosaic Workshop at San Vitale’, esp. 34-35; Kiilerich, ‘Abstraction’. 53 54 19 Fig. 0.4. San Vitale, Ravenna, multi-coloured mosaic ornament motion. In their ambiguous delineation of forms that precede and recede from the ground, these abstractions possess an inherent dynamic quality. The link between colour and movement deserves closer attention.56 How do we actually perceive such phenomena? Is it the colours per se and their specific combinations or the forms and their shapes and delineation, such as the effects achieved by irregular or broken outlines? Neuroscientists have studied whether colour and movement are processed along the same or different pathways of the brain. The prevailing view is that colour and motion are processed along different pathways: the magnocellular pathway (the ‘Where’ system) processes motion, while the parvocellular pathway (the ‘What’ system) processes colour. But the two are not totally separated. Perceptions of colour and motion can interact, as there are interactions among the neuronal pathways that mediate the perception of visual attributes such as colour and motion.57 One proposition has it that there is a fast motion pathway that responds to patterns but not colours and a slow pathway with a high sensitivity to colour and slowly moving patterns.58 This proposition is promising with regard to the sensed interaction of colour and motion in the veining of coloured marbles and mosaics. But it would be equally interesting to explore the interaction of colour and motion in the basically static medium of sculpture. A question worth exploring is therefore how colour and motion interacted in polychrome sculpture: given that the application of paint to sculpture made the sculpture more dynamic, paint may have been employed to some extent to make the figure more animated and thus visually more convincing. At any rate, a totally monochrome white marble figure would have looked almost ghostlike and devoid of life. In fact, uncoloured sculptures must have been close to unthinkable, as colour made the statues come alive. – In what follows, we shall endeavour to visualize the impact of colour in private and imperial portraits, on imperial monuments and in Christian contexts. Gallese and Ardizzi, ‘The Sense of Color, Midway between World, Body and Brain’, 32: ‘despite the scientific evidence regarding the relationship between color and the perception of movement, no study has so far addressed the question of how the application of color in the artistic sphere can convey a greater perception of dynamism in the pictorial work.’ 57 Papathomas, Gorea, Julesz, ‘Two Carriers for Motion Perception: Color and Luminance’. 58 Gegenfurter & Hawken, ‘Interaction of Motion and Color in the Visual Pathway’, 394. 56 20 Chapter One: The (lost) colour of sculpted physiognomies Writing in the early fifth century, the sophist Eunapius of Sardis notes that ‘the likeness of the face is captured through some of its minor characteristics: a deep furrow on the brow, prominent sideburns, or some similar insignificant detail of the features, which, if overlooked, causes the portrait to fail, but if rendered accurately, is the sole reason why the likeness (homoiotes) has been caught’ (Exc. De Sent. Ius. Imp. Const. Porphyr. Conf. 55).59 A generation later, Bishop Theodoret of Cyrrhus similarly states that certain painters ‘observe their model, reproducing the eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, ears, forehead, and even the hair and beard’ (History of the Monks, 30.7.11-16).60 Eunapius and Theodoret refer to painters of two-dimensional images, but careful observation of details to catch a likeness must have been equally important for painters of sculpture. After the sculptors had done their part, it was left to the painters to fill in the blanks of the white ground with colour. It is easier mentally to process a coloured than an uncoloured image. Assuming that colour has a semantic value, the circumstance that the polychromy of ancient sculpture has mostly been lost means that a vital component is missing. Without colour, we cannot but miss significant visual information. In portraits, the choice of hue for hair and eyes and possibly different tints of the skin, as well as the colour of the garments could give clues with regard to the person’s age and social standing and how he or she wanted to be perceived. Just as the sculpted form differed in private and imperial portraiture, the different sculptural modes undoubtedly had a bearing on polychromy. The colouring must have followed different conventions that were appropriate to the subject: private portraiture left room for more individualizing than did the official imperial portrait which was more restricted by convention. The idealized divinus vultus of the imperial realm and portrayals of holy beings adhered to other visual strategies than the (seemingly) naturalistic faces in the private realm. Four busts – two from Thessaloniki and two from Stratonikeia in Caria – shall serve as case studies. In both cases, they consist of a male and a female, generally supposed to form pendant portraits of man and wife. (Other portraits may have existed; if the busts belonged to a larger group, the extant busts need not have formed pairs). The male busts are of particular interest since the sitters reflect the ‘minor characteristics’ noted by Eunapius, such as furrowed brows and prominent sideburns. However, as we shall see, apparently realistic physiognomies with idiosyncratic features need not necessarily comply with the actual looks of the sitters. 59 60 See Blockley, Classicising Historians, 76-79, frag. no. 50. Canivet and Leroy-Molinghen, Théodoret de Cyrrhe, 248, lines 11-16. 21 Fig. I.1. Bust of woman, Thessaloniki Archaeological Museum (photo: Hjalmar Torp) 22 Fig. I.2. Bust of man, Thessaloniki Archaeological Museum (photo: Hjalmar Torp) 23 Two portrait busts from Thessaloniki Among the finest pieces in the Archaeological Museum at Thessaloniki are two, slightly over life size, late antique portrait busts (FIG. I. 1-2).61 Even though no scholar, to the best of my knowledge, has proposed an earlier date than the late fourth century, the busts are firmly situated in the Roman portrait tradition. The man is wearing three garments: an inner tunic, barely visible at the neckline, a dalmatica and a chlamys, originally fastened by a no-longer-extant fibula, probably of metal. The male head with a pointed double chin includes many particulars: large ears set close to the skull; deep-set eyes below bushy brows. Crow’s feet at the corner of the eyes and the furrowed brow suggest mature age. It seems as if the sculptor has taken care in characterizing the hair: it lies flat at the skull and back while it is fuller at the front where it forms irregular drill-carved locks at the forehead and temples; noticeable are the prominent, curly sideburns. One gets the notion of a hair growth peculiar to this particular man. Very much the same distinctive traits – shape of head, hairstyle and full slightly pounding lips – characterise a fragmentary portrait from Corinth.62 Indeed, the two countenances are so similar that they could portray the very same individual. Since Corinth, like Thessaloniki, belonged to the diocese of Macedonia, one can imagine an imperial high magistrate who held office in different places within the diocese and whose effigy was put up in connection with the office. The evidence of a ‘dublicate’ is highly interesting as it raises questions of workshop practice as well as the potential function of the sculptures. The Corinth head was excavated at a forum and therefore was presumably on public display. It is likely, then, to stem from a full statue, rather than a bust. A caveat: Since Eunapius mentions furrowed brow and prominent sideburns as standard ingredients in a portrait, it cannot be ruled out that the two near-identical heads do not render the actual physical features of a particular person. Perhaps a standard portrait type (paradeigma) was employed for several individuals. In effect, had colours been preserved, the two heads might have looked quite dissimilar. The male figure has inv.no. 1061; the female figure has inv.no. 1060. Male head 27 cm; female head with Scheitelzopf 27,5 cm. Stefanidou-Tiveriou, Καταλογος vol. 3, 192-195, cat.no. 522, figs. 1619-1622, 1627-1628 (man); 196-200, cat.no. 523, figs. 1623-1626, 16291630 (woman); further Kiilerich, ‘Private Portraits’. The precise find spot is unknown. According to former ephoros Charalambos Makaronas the busts were found somewhere in Thessaloniki (pers. comm. to H. Torp). According to Stefanidou-Tiveriou, the idea that they stem from the village Kopanos, near Naussa and Verria, some 75 km west of Thessaloniki may be caused by a wrong attribution, based on a pencil inscription of uncertain date. 62 The portrait was discovered in 1977, but remained unpublished until 2003. On a visit to Corinth in 2014, the sculpture was not on display and unavailable for study. Vanderpool, ‘Roman Portraiture’, 379-380, believes that the head portrays the same individual as the Thessaloniki bust; Kiilerich, Visual Dynamics, 26. Stefanidou-Tiveriou, Καταλογος vol. 3, 195, addresses the problems of the two portraits. 61 24 Fig. I. 3. Female portrait, Thessaloniki Arcahaeological Museum (photo: author) Turning to the female bust from Thessaloniki: What immediately captures the attention is the elaborate Scheitelzopf hairstyle with full crown braid and melon waves at the front (FIG. I. 3). Since the back of the head is more cursorily treated, the bust was probably intended to be seen from the front. The face is symmetrical and rounded. Because of the full face and double chin one gets the impression that the woman is past her first youth, although her skin is smooth and unwrinkled. The slightly bulging eyes set under sharply drawn eyebrows form a marked contrast to the small and tight-lipped mouth. Her looks are in keeping with the ideal female face as described by the Anonymus Latinus around the year 400: ‘a face gentle, calm and delicate, serene and affable, with lips pressed together, as if incised’ (vultus omnis lenis, inoffensus ac mollis, serenus, affabilis, labia compresa tamquam sint incisa).63 In the female portrait, the sharp arch of the eyebrows and the almondshaped eyes with bean-shaped pupils and marked orbitals are carved in the same style as in the statue of the so-called Valentinian II from Aphrodisias, 388-392.64 It is therefore quite likely that sculptors from Aphrodisias in Caria, the most important 63 64 Anonyme Latin, Traite de Physiognomie, paragraph 6. See Firatli, La sculpture, no. 4; Kiilerich, Classicism, 27-30. 25 sculptural centre in the eastern part of the empire, made the couple in Thessaloniki.65 In this connection, it is worth noting that polychromy has been attested on some Roman sculptures from Aphrodisias: an athlete from ca 100 AD, for instance, preserves red pigments on hair, eye and eyebrow and has lashes painted in the form of small triangles. Other Carian statues retain traces mainly of red, which may also have been underpainting. 66 On a female head, ca 160 AD is attested yellow, red, black and blue in the hair as well as a little gilding.67 Although these heads are earlier than the Thessaloniki busts, the latter would plausibly have been coloured following the Aphrodisian custom. In an earlier reconstruction of the female portrait, we noted how paint worked like a kind of make-up, which made the woman appear younger than she does in the current monochrome state.68 Colour may be deceptive. The colour of garments The woman is elegantly draped in a garment, plausibly a palla that covers most of her dalmatica and undertunic. Contemporary paintings may give some ideas of which colours were in fashion. In a tomb painting from Thessaloniki, dating from around 320-340, the lady Eustorgia wears an ochre yellow dalmatica with black clavi.69 In a tomb at Silistra, Bulgaria, also of fourth century date, the domina wears a loose green dalmatica on top of a tight-sleeved white undertunic with reddish bands. The female servants are dressed in yellow, rose and red.70 Turning to floor mosaics, in the Villa at Piazza Armerina, the lady at her toilet is clad in red, while her elegantly attired servants are in red or yellow.71 These representations of actual persons, rather than of mythological figures, give an idea of chromatic preferences. It must obviously be taken into account that, without prominent use of glass tesserae, it was difficult in pavements to render a blue garment, leading to certain restrictions caused by the material at disposal. But at least the visual evidence indicates that red, green and yellow were popular colours, which, for particularly fine garments, were joined by purple, gold and silver. Kiilerich, ‘Private Portraits’, 364. See Abbe, ‘Recent Research’, fig. 241a, b, c. See also Smith, Aphrodisias II: paint traces on 1st and 2nd century sculpture, cat. nos. 14: red on helmet and sandals, 16: traces of red on drapery, 18: red and yellow on sword and scabbard, 19: red on hair, 44: traces of red paint, 89: red on mantle. 67 See Skovmøller, ‘Where Marble meets Colour’, 285. 68 Kiilerich, Visual Dynamics, 27-28, fig. 3.7: Thessaloniki woman; fig. 3.8: Stratonikeia woman. 69 Marki, Nekropoli, 138, pl. 5a: tomb 46. 70 See Frova, Pittura romana, 12-15, colour plates 1-2. 71 Ciurca, I mosaici della villa ‘Erculia’, colour photos p. 32 and 33. 65 66 26 Fig. I. 4. Musicians mosaic from Mariamin. Hama Archaeological Museum (photo: Wikimedia Dick Ossemann) Female musicians depicted in a mosaic from Mariamin in Syria wear especially fine garments. The Musicians’ mosaic stems from a village about 50 km southwest of Hama (Hama archaeological museum) where it decorated the floor of an apsidal room (FIG. I. 4).72 Whether this was part of a private or a public building is totally uncertain. As the mosaic was found by chance and not in a stratified excavation, archaeological criteria for establishing a chronology are missing. But style and iconography point to a date around 400, and therefore roughly the same date as the Thessaloniki bust.73 Six female musicians perform on a wooden stage. From left to right: a red-haired cymbal tong-player wears a green dalmatic with a gold ‘stola’, a dark-haired organist sports a silvery white dalmatic with rich gold trimming, a redhaired flute-player wears a white dalmatic with silver neck-band; a black-haired player of an oxybaphon presents a purple dalmatic with gold ‘stola’; a kithara-player wears a fine green dalmatic with rich gold and purple trim and a young blondish Zaqzug, ‘La mosaique’; Balty, Mosaïques antiques de Syrie, 94-100; Kiilerich, ‘Musicians’. Zaqzug, ‘La mosaïque’: ca 250-275. A date ca 400/early fifth century is upheld by Balty, Mosaïques antiques de Syrie, 94-100, and in later publications; early fifth century: Böhm, ‘Quid acetabulorum tinnitus.’ According to Perrot, ‘L’orgue de la mosaïque syrienne de Mariamin’, the type of organ represented came into use around 400. 72 73 27 Fig. I. 5. Musicians mosaic showing luxurious silk dresses in green, gold and silvery white. (photo: Dick Ossemann Wikimedia Commons) Fig. I. 6. Musicians mosaic showing luxurious silk dresses in white, silver, purple, gold and green (photo: Dick Ossemann Wikimedia Commons) 28 cymbal-player is displayed in a white dalmatic with clavi in silver, now degraded to black. The latter is the only one seen in full figure, showing her under tunic in gold and red and her red shoes. The leading musicians are undoubtedly the oxybaphonist and the organist. As for the status of the individual outfits, the flutist and the kymbalist present the less elaborate dresses; this also complies with the general impression that the finest dresses go with the instruments that are most difficult to play. Only the cymbal tong-player at the far left defies this ‘schema’: in spite of her simple percussion instrument her green silk dress with gold trimming is very fine. Thus, it is as if the artist has taken care to depict each figure as an individual, and has ‘highlighted’ the younger musicians by golden trim, central position or full figure representation (FIG. I. 5-6).74 In connection with the mosaic from Mariamin, a law issued in Constantinople in 393 is of interest. The Codex Theodosianus 15.7.11, de scaenicis, On Performers, concerns restrictions in the dress codes of female entertainers. It states: “A female performer shall not wear clothes adorned with jewels, silken garments adorned with images (sigillatis) or fabrics interwoven with gold thread. She shall also abstain from making new garments that are known by the Greek term alethinocrustas, in which mixed with another pure colour the red of the murex glows. Granted that, we do no forbid the sensible use of scutlata and variously coloured silk and gold but without jewels around the collar, cuffs and belt.”75 Clothes adorned with jewels, be that on collars, cuffs or belts, are off-limit. It is expressly forbidden to perform in alethinocrustas, also known as alethinoporphyreos, true or genuine murex purple. The women are, nevertheless, allowed to wear silks of other not specified colours and gold. In keeping with the prohibitions prescribed in the codex, the Mariamin mosaic displays no damasks, pearls or jewels but all women wear fine silks, some with rich gold application. It must be noted that in the mosaic the textiles were not set with gold but simulated with yellow tesserae.76 The nuanced setting of the tesserae, the technical brilliance and the sophisticated perspective reveal that the Mariamin composition was not originally conceived for a floor. It reflects a large-scale wall decoration, either a mosaic or a painting. For a study of the finger cymbals (far right) and cymbal-tongs (far left), see Cottet, ‘Cymbal Playing’. 75 Nulla mima gemmis, nulla sigillatis sericis aut textis utatur auratis. His quoque vestibus noverint abstinendum, quas graeco nomine alethinocrustas vocant, in quibus alio admixtus colori puri rubor murices inardescit. Uti sane isdem scutlatis et variis coloribus sericis auroque sine gemmis collo brachiis cingulo non vetamus, Pharr, The Theodosian Code and Novels 433-435: ‘Men and Women of the Stage. For the term sigillatus, see, Diethardt and Kislinger, ‘Sigillatos’: with little figures. For scutulatus, Wild, ‘The textile Term scutulatus’, arguing for checked damasks. 76 I studied the mosaic at Hama Museum in 1992. 74 29 The stupendous mosaic pavements from La villa romana de Noheda are of importance to the study of late antique dress and costume.77 The mosaics in question are said to date from the fourth century, although apparently there are no criteria for a more precise dating.78 Still in situ, the mosaics decorate the floor of a large triclinium in a villa at Noheda, 17 km north of Cuenca in the vicinity of Toleda in Central Spain. Panel A depicts the myth of Pelops and Hippodameia; panels B and E show stage performances, panel C represents the Judgment of Paris, while panel D displays a Dionysiac procession and the fragmentary panel F a marine scene. Some tesserae are said to be as tiny as 1 mm and there is evidence of both glass and gold. Each panel contains a large number of figures wearing a large range of garments. Since the garments provide good fashion illustrations, the most relevant dress items shall be presented here, based on photographic documentation. Panel A: woman in white with yellow dalmatica with purple clavi and jewelled collar; hair in Scheitelzopf; woman in vermillion/light rose with jewelled collar. Hippodameia identical to first woman: the inner tunic with long narrow sleeves and purple cuff-bands, a light-coloured tunica dalmatica with a broad yellow pleated inset at the hem, a yellow diagonally draped dalmatic or stola with an embroidered purple band; finally an elaborate jewelled collar consisting of square emeralds set in gold, framed by pearls and with pendant drop-shaped sapphires. A servant girl, depicted in smaller scale, wears a wide-sleeved vermillion dalmatic with broad purple clavi. From this it can be inferred that the yellow colour symbolizing gold and light, and worn by the princess, was of higher status than red. Panel B is particularly rich, displaying some sixteen different male and female dresses. While some of these are stage-costumes worn with masks, other garments reflect contemporary fourth-century female fashion. From left to right: a yellowish belted dalmatic with a broad dark patterned clavus down the middle, bordered by pearls at the neckline; a rose vermillion dalmatic with broad purple clavi, pearl neckline. Both women have elaborate hairstyles with jewelry (see Fig. I. 10). At the right side of the panel are two more women: The dress of the one standing behind a seated man is visible only at the upper part: white to silver wide-sleeved dalmatic broad burgundy clavi and cuff-bands, pearl neckline. The seated woman wears a wide-sleeved golden yellow dalmatic with broad burgundy clavi and broad burgundy cuff-bands; pearl necklace and pearls and jewels in her hair; she has red shoes with pointed toes. For the dress the closest correspondence is to some women at Piazza Armerina, especially the lady and her maids at the toilet scene. A general principle may be disclosed: clavi and cuff-bands are darker – and often in shades suggesting purple, purplish – than the overall colour of the dress. Tévar, ‘Late-Roman villa’; La villa romana; Uscatescu, ‘Visual arts’ (The designation of the panels A-F follow that of Tévar; Uscatescu follows a different system, referring, for instance to panel B as F). 78 Tévar La villa romana; 309, indicates an early fourth as well as a late fourth century scenario; the latest coin is Theodosius I. 77 30 Fig. I. 7. Detail of oxybaphon-player, Mariamin (photo: author) In the Noheda mosaics, combinations of white, yellow, vermillion and purple are the most popular for female figures. The green to blue hues are worn mostly by men, but green also at times by female performers. The colours chosen for the female figures allow us to deliberate on relative status: thus princesses and brides wear yellow, while their attendants tend to wear (light) red. An interesting point is that many of the figures have jeweled or pearled necklines and belts, displaying the kind of extravaganza that the CTh 15.11.7 prohibits. With the exception of the goddess Athena, there are no figural silks except for patterned clavi. Both the Mariamin mosaic (FIG. I. 7) and the mosaic panels from Noheda illustrate elegant stage costumes worn by female performers in late antiquity. Although tunic with clavi is the basic garment, none of the costumes worn at Mariamin are identical to any of those seen at Noheda. They differ both with regard to detail and overall design. In order to contextualize the two mosaics, it may be wondered if it is possible to tell whether these ‘fashion scenes’ reflect the period before or after the law of 393? Do the women actually display the kind of extravagance that brought the need for the law, or can it be held that they represent the ‘uti sane’, the sensible use of rich apparel? The main message conveyed is that the women of the stage, although accustomed to and allowed to wear fine clothes, should refrain from emulating the attire of the ladies of the court. Such attire, although of a later date, is represented in the Theodora panel in San Vitale (FIG. I. 8). There the ladies of the court are 31 Fig. I. 8. San Vitale, Ravenna. Theodora panel (photo author) elegantly dressed in colourful dalmatics and pallae undoubtedly woven of fine silk (according to legend, the industry flourished when silk worms were smuggled into Constantinople in hollowed out sticks).79 The mature lady next to the empress wears a two-tone purple weave with floral clavi and a palla woven in silver and white. The younger lady beside her is dressed in a silvery dalmatic adorned with blue birds and a golden palla with red flowers. A snow white palla covers the shoulders of the third woman, whose dalmatic displays green leaves on a silvery ground. It is worth noting that the silver tones of these two attires differ, one having reddish, the other a greenish tint. A stronger colour-scale is sported by the next woman: a green dalmatic with red bird design contrasts with a vermillion red palla ornamented in green. Finally, the woman to be glimpsed behind her wears a golden palla on top of a white dalmatic. All women wear red pointed shoes. Since the mosaic reflects the fashions of the Constantinopolitan court, and is likely to be based on a painting dispatched from the capital city to Ravenna, it is reasonable to infer that colours and designs in the main line are consistent with real clothes. The silver, gold, purple, red, green and white and the love of vivid patterns evidenced in the mosaic, again, strongly suggest that sculptures were coloured to much the same degree. 79 See James and Tougher, ‘Get your kit on’; Kiilerich, ‘Attire’. 32 Written sources provide evidence that late antique garments came in many colours. Papyri of second and third century date found in Egypt refer to wool and linen tunics (χιτωνες) in white (λευκον), yellow (θεεινος), saffron (κροκωτινος), green (πρασινος), emerald (σμαραγδιον), a colour shifting between blue and green (καλλαεινος), purple (πορφυρουν), red (κοκκινον), orange-red (σανδυκινος) and silver (αργεντιον).80 The χιτωνιον αργεντιον could refer to a silvery hue or to silver thread. As for the various types of decoration, Bishop Asterius of Amasia (who died around the year 410) described colourful garments that display images of human beings and animals; some garments even had biblical subjects and narratives. Disapprovingly he found that people dressed like that looked like ‘walking paintings’.81 Fragments of patterned and figured wool and silks – some with biblical scenes – are preserved from early Byzantine contexts.82 Clothes from later periods give further evidence of the widespread popularity of figural motifs.83 The patterns and designs of textiles are pertinent for the question of sculptural polychromy: if the elite wore multi-coloured garments, one may presume that their sculpted portraits were similarly painted to reflect the richness of their attire. Because of the connection between colour and the prestige of precious material, the presence of costly colourants adds value to an image: a bright item, whether a vivid real garment or a painted garment of a sculpture, implies higher status than a plain one. Just as a strongly saturated colour, say red, was more expensive than a diluted rosy tint for a garment, sculptural polychromy would tend towards highly saturated rather than muted colours. A polychrome and perhaps partly gilded portrait therefore sends a double message of status: it flaunts expensive pigments, which again reflect expensive textiles. Metalthread in garments is actually attested in fourth-century Thessaloniki: In the East cemetery was found a sarcophagus containing a lead coffin with the body of a woman clothed in plant-dyed purple silk with elegant gold-woven borders.84 The woman is estimated to be 50-60 years of age, ca 160 cm high with chestnut-coloured hair arranged in a plait. She may have walked in much the same circles as the woman portrayed in marble (theoretically they might even be one and the same person). At least, it seems unlikely that the affluent lady portrayed in the bust should have settled for anything less than brightly coloured silk, whether purple, yellow, red or green. Given the various possibilities it is difficult to propose specific colours for the sculpted bust. See Mossokowska-Gaubert, ‘Tuniques’, 166. Marinis, ‘Wearing the Bible’, 103-104. 82 Kiilerich, ‘Gender and Fashion’. 83 See Galliker, Middle Byzantine Silk, available online. 84 Moulhérat & Spantidaki, ‘Les tissus’; Tzanavari, ‘Gold-Woven Silk Textile. The sarcophagus of 3rd-century date was reused. 80 81 33 Hair colour In the sculpted portrait, the Scheitelzopf is plaited with a striated pattern that might call for a combination of two or more colours in order to emphasise the pattern. Several floor mosaics furnish evidence for colour conventions in the fourth century. In the Piazza Armerina mosaics, the lady at her toilet wears her hair in a Scheitelzopf set in colours that range from yellow, through sepia to brown and black (FIG. I. 9).85 The mosaics from Noheda present a closely comparable hairstyle to the sculpted bust: melon waves and voluminous Scheitelzopf: in panel A, Hippodameia and Sterope are brunettes, the hair set with red, orange and black; in panel B, a lady in the theatrical company presents a Scheitelzopf adorned with turquoise and green stones (FIG. I. 10).86 A related scheme is feasible for the Thessaloniki woman: contrasting colours emphasise the elaborate hair-do (FIG. I. 11). In the Mariamin mosaic, all the musicians wear their hair in a Scheitelzopf, only less voluminous than in the sculpted portrait. Hair colours range from medium brown and red to near black; the more mature women’s hair tends towards dark brown interspersed with black (FIG. I. 12) Since the woman from Thessaloniki appears to be of mature age, this suggests that her hair may have been painted in comparatively dark shades. This complies with the fact that the abovementioned paintings from Silistra and Thessaloniki show dark-haired dominae. Late antique mosaics depicting the theme of lady and servants, such as the pavement at Piazza Armerina and the Dominus Julius mosaic from Carthage ca 400, similarly present the lady of the house with dark hair whereas the servants are fair.87 At Pedrosa de la Vega (Palencia) in Northern Spain, an Achilles on Skyros mosaic decorates the main reception room of a large villa dating from the last third of the fourth century.88 The framing border displays a score of male and female portrait medallions suspended from chains held by hybrid duck-dolphins. These medallions play on various artistic media: some heads reproduce paintings, while others refer to bronzes and still others to marbles. Each head is individualised, presenting both young and mature faces, hair ranging from fair to red and shades of brown. As in the Mariamin mosaic, the youngest individuals have the lightest hair colour. One gains the impression that the heads in medallions were intended as portraits, or pseudo-portraits forming a family gallery set in mosaic. Such a mosaic display could serve as a cheaper substitute for a sculpture gallery. Two heads placed vis-à-vis one another and thus forming a pair may be singled out as they represent much the same mature age as the sculpted couple in Thessaloniki: The woman has reddish hair arranged in a Scheitelzopf adorned with a pearl hairpin (FIG. I. 13). 85 A close-up photo in Ciurca, I mosaici della villa ‘Erculia’, 33. 86 Tévar, La villa romana, 315, fig. 13, 316, fig. 15. For the Dominus Iulius mosaic in colour, see Yacoub, Splendeurs des mosaïques de Tunesie, 112, fig. 216. 88 See Kiilerich, ‘Ducks, Dolphins and Portrait Medallions’. 87 34 Fig. I. 9. Piazza Armerina, domina (after Ciurca, I mosaici della villa ‘Erculia’, 33) 35 Fig. I. 10. Villa de la Noheda, panel B Scheitelzopf (after Tévar 2015) 36 Fig. I. 11. Woman from Thessaloniki. Reconstruction of potential haircolour (author) 37 Fig. I. 12. Mariamin mosaic: detail of kithara-player. Hama Archaol. Museum (photo: author). 38 Fig. I. 13. Pedrosa de la Vega. Female bust in portrait medallion (photo: Diputacion Provincial Departamento de Cultura, Palencia) 39 The mosaic from Pedrosa furnishes a particularly good parallel to the man from Thessaloniki. In the Pedrosa floor, a distinguishing feature of the abovementioned man, who like the female companion is a redhead, is the prominent sideburns, reminiscent of those depicted in the sculpted portrait; sideburns or whiskers were apparently a fashion trend in the later fourth century (FIG. I. 14). Thus imagined painted, the male bust from Thessaloniki might have shared the colours of the tessellated bust from Pedrosa, with the possibility of a more elaborate and detailed execution (FIG. I. 15). Taking a lead from Eustorgia’s tomb, dark nearblack hair remains an alternative for the magistrate. In order to explore potential hair colours, written sources may be consulted. In his treatise Physiognomonia Latina, from around 400, the Anonymus Latinus prescribes that male hair should be either red or black infused with reddish (rubeus vel niger cum rubore); female hair should be either black or a dark red, which the Greeks call ‘phaian’ hair (niger vel rubeo fuscior, quem Graeci vocant phaian tricha).89 As discussed in the introduction, φαιος can indicate almost any colour in between black and white, and it can be regarded as the opposite to both melas (black, dark) and leukos (white, light). Perhaps partly due to Plato’s referring to φαιον as a mixture of λευκον and μελαν (Timaeus 68c 3-4), it is sometimes translated as grey.90 However rather than a pigment-like mixture of black and white resulting in grey, it is more likely that phaios betokens a hue between dark and light. At least grey was hardly a favoured hair colour for women. For hair, phaios could denote a medium tint, neither dark nor fair, such as various shades of auburn and chestnut or dark red (rubeo fuscior). Still, the root of the word phai- also implies shine, so it plausibly refers primarily to beautiful shiny locks, the colour of which could vary. An earlier source, Galen named the primary hair colours ξανθαι, μελαιναι, πολιουνται, πυρραι. These can be roughly taken to mean yellow (blond, fair), black (dark), white and red (corresponding roughly to the ancient Greek tetrachromatic or four-colour system).91 Variations were υποξαντοι, ‘blondish’ and υποπυρροι, ‘reddish’. These and other hues indicated eight dispositions: according to Galen, the colours revealed a person’s temperament.92 Keeping this in mind, it implies that it would be quite difficult to read a person’s temperament, or ‘personality’, if his or her portrait was left uncoloured. Anonyme Latin, Traite de Physiognomie, paragraph 5 and 6. Ierodiakonou, ‘Plato’s Theory of Colours’, at 227 and 228 keeps the word ‘grey’ but does not believe that Plato had a mixture of black and white pigments in mind. Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 78-84, discussing phaios under grey, gives examples of the word referring to figs and other objects and its taking on both the meaning of green and blue. 91 For the four-colour palette, see Plantzos, Art of Painting, 106-108. 92 Boudon, ‘La théorie galénique de la vision’, at 71: hypopyrroi: ‘tirant sur le roux’; see further Bradley, Colour and Meaning, 134 with note 15. 89 90 40 Fig. I. 14. Pedrosa de la Vega. Male bust in portrait medallion, floor mosaic (photo: Diputacion Provincial Departamento de Cultura) 41 Fig. I. 15. Colour reconstruction of male bust from Thessaloniki (author) 42 Eye colour The Anonymus Latinus describes male eyes as ‘oculi paulo impressiores, minaces, subnigri, quos Graeci charopous vocant, vel glauci’ (paragr. 5, p. 53). That is projecting eyes, minax eyes, dark (subnigri: blackish, somewhat black, perhaps dark brown), of the colour the Greeks call charopos, or glauci (light?). Galen refers to eyes as glaukoi, melanes or lampontes (γλαυκοι, μελανες, λαμποντες) roughly meaning light, dark and shining. He stresses that eyes ought to be shiny and luminant (λαμπρον τε και αυγοειδες) (Galen, Art.medic. IX, 4, p. 300.9, Boudon). Unfortunately, the terms are imprecise and present many problems. For instance, it is difficult to find a modern equivalent for the adjective glaukos, which contains many shades of meaning depending on what the word is meant to describe in a given context.93 Glaukos has been variously translated as grey, blue, bluish, green, greenish, bluish green, bluish grey and greenish grey, as well as light-coloured and shiny – all possible qualities for eyes. The word is associated with the fierce eyes of lions and describes Athena Glaukopis’s eyes (glaukopis: bright-eyed, with gleaming eyes). But to complicate the range of usage in ancient texts, even olive leaves and serpents (drakon glaukon poikilon in Pindar) may be called glaukoi.94 It therefore seems close to impossible to settle for a particular chromatic term to cover the concept. In modern English, the word has been adopted in the sense of ‘a dull greyish green or blue colour’ (ODE). Regardsless, in antiquity, rather than a hue – and certainly not dull – glaukos, suggested luminance and rendered the idea of gleaming and shining (as the eyes of Athena and her yellow-eyed owl, glaux, by night). The association with luminance and shine is strengthened by the fact that glaukos can also indicate silvery, as when light glimmers on the surface of the sea. Charopós is another problematic word.95 In certain instances, charopos may mean light blue or grey, since it sometimes describes the eyes of Germans (Plut. Mar. 11). But it can also designate flashing or bright eyes; in physiognomics it is – like glaukos – associated with the lion’s fierce eyes, and with the eyes of the brave man. In the sense of ‘bright-eyed’, charopos seems related to glaukos. Rather than strictly colour terms, both are associated with luminance, standing for brightness rather than hue. Bishop Theodoret of Cyrrhus when noting that certain painters ‘observe their model, reproducing the eyes, nose, mouth, cheeks, ears, forehead, and even the hair and beard’ continues that in addition to this, the painter observes Maxwell-Stuart, Studies in Greek Colour Terminology, vol. I: glaukos. See the discussions and examples in Deacy and Villing, ‘Athena Blues?’ and GrandClément, ‘Dans les yeux d’Athéna Glaukôpis’, who seems to favour an interpretation as blue; for serpents and olives, eadem, 16. Boudon, ‘La théorie galénique’, 74, contrasts glaukos (blue, grey or green) light and melas dark. 95 Maxwell-Stuart, Studies in Greek Colour Terminology, vol. II: charopos. 93 94 43 ‘whether the model is seated or standing and his look, charopoia or blosura’ (History of the Monks, 30.7.11-16).96 It seems that Theodoret posits charopoios as a contrast to blosura. However, blosuros is equally problematic: It can designate hairy, grim, burly, virile, masculine, solemn and dignified. Unfortunately, this uncertainty makes it difficult to apply the terms in the reconstruction of specific eye colour in sculpture. It may be tentatively speculated that there could be a link between glaukos as a description of the iris and the pheomelanin type of eye-colour as in green, hazel, yellow and blue, in contrast to the eumelanin type of brown and black irides with a stronger concentration of colour. We shall return to the question of iris colour in the discussion of saints’ eyes in mosaics and other media (cf. chap. IV). Recent research on second- and third-century Palmyrene sculpture in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek indicates that the eye could be lined in black.97 Although various traditions must be reckoned with, this feature, documented already on the archaic korai from the Athenian Acropolis, is feasible also for our portraits. A detail regarding the rendering of eyes in sculpture concerns the glint in the eye. The cornea’s outer surface reflects a small proportion of the light that otherwise transmits to the interior of the eyeball.98 This reflected lustre appears as a glint or gleam in the eye. In paintings, it is usually signalled by means of a white paint dot. It may seem a paradox that an opaque dot of paint succeeds in giving the impression of translucency, yet two small white specks can make a face in a painted portrait look alive. It has been demonstrated that without the white glints, the eyes in a painting appear flat rather than rotund, and the face as such acquires a rather dead look. 99 A common feature in later European painting, the glint is also present in antique paintings, noticeably in most Fayum portraits; it is, however, absent from Christian portrayal.100 It is difficult to tell whether it would have been included in sculptural polychromy. In the faces under discussion here, the sculptors rendered the pupil plastically as a bean-shaped hollow of the iris. Since the face gains more vividness with the glint, the artists might well have placed a white dot at a protruding point of the iris next to the pupil, which was plausibly painted black. 96 97 Canivet and Leroy-Molinghen, Théodoret de Cyrrhe, 248, lines 11-16. Brøns et al., ‘Palmyrene Polychromy’, 1218, fig. 16. The cornea is composed of five layers: epithelium, Bowman’s membrane, stroma, Descemet’s membrane and endothelium, of which the stroma makes up about 90% of the thickness of the cornea, McCaa, ‘The Eye and the Visual Nervous System, 2-3. 99 See Miller, On Reflection, 70-71; see also 36-37. 100 Doxiades, Fayum Portraits, figs. 17-23, 36-46, etc.; Borg, Mumienporträts, pls. 2-5, 8-17, etc. 98 44 Skin colour The word for skin, chros, (chroma, chroia) also means colour: thus colour is an inseparable component of the skin. However, skin colour is difficult to define. The skin is subject to temporary fluctuations and the tone may change depending on internal and external factors such as anger, shame, fear, cold, heat, etc. The skin therefore has a sort of dynamic quality that is obviously difficult to catch in a pictorial representation. A Mediterranean complexion can vary from pale to dark. Since it was easy in pictorial representation to vary tones by means of mixing pigments, it is unlikely that the ancient painters of sculpture were content with a simplistic dialectic of light skin for women, dark skin for men (as for instance in Greek vase-painting).101 Many tones could have been displayed. So, a pale complexion for women could vary between what in modern parlance are described in terms like cameo, ivory, sand and almond, while darker tones for men could range from golden peach, through terracotta to tan. Modern manufacturers of cosmetics also make a point of the glow and luminosity to be obtained, e.g., a ‘luminous glow’.102 Such effects were undoubtedly also appreciated in ancient portrayals. The nature of skin colour in ancient sculpture is a contested point and proposed reconstructions waver between light tints and heavy opaque layers. 103 Since no secure late antique evidence with regard to complexion is preserved in sculpture, it may be pertinent to focus on two-dimensional representations. According to Hjalmar Torp’s observations in the Rotunda mosaics at Thessaloniki, the limestone tesserae rendering the complexions of the martyrs can be broken into many tones of pale and rose, which he grades from 0, the lightest, to 5, the darkest. 104 Even grade 5 is comparatively light. As will be argued, the colouring of celestial and terrestrial beings differs, meaning that the saints’ hues cannot serve as guiding lines for secular portraits except to indicate different tints for youth, maturity and advanced age. In general it seems that to visualise their luminous appearance the carnation of holy beings tends to be paler than that of real persons. For skin colour in sculpture, the large corpus of Fayum portraits may provide a point of departure. These mummy portraits depict both male and female faces of different ages and their colouring, generally darkest for men, may give useful hints at possible complexion tints.105 See Eaverly, Tan Men/Pale Women. In contemporary cosmetics, a make-up product may come in sixteen or even thirty shades, intended to improve the appearance of the natural skin colour. According to Eckstut and Eckstut, The Secret Language of Color, 203, the Brazilians have more than a hundred names for the various skin colours. 103 See Koch-Brinkmann, Piening and Brinkmann, ‘On the Rendering of Human Skin in Ancient Marble Sculpture’. Already in 1928, Gisela Richter posed the question: ‘Were the Nude Parts of Greek Marble Sculpture Painted?’ 104 Torp, La Rotonde, 166. 105 Colour photos in Doxiadis, The Mysterious Fayum Portraits. 101 102 45 Two portrait busts from Stratonikeia, Caria The couple from Stratonikeia (now in the Bodrum Castle Museum) presents a parallel case to that of the Thessaloniki couple, and based on the Carian provenance in combination with stylistic features they were undoubtedly similarly ‘made in Aphrodisias’ (FIG. I. 16-17).106 The portraits follow the prescription of Eunapius insofar as the man has a distinctive, seemingly individualised physiognomy while the woman’s face is blank, with ‘lips pressed together, as if incised’. In both portraits the eyebrows undulate as if to bring expression and emotion to the faces, a feature that sets these sculptures apart from the marbles in Thessaloniki. Based on the man’s sculpted crossbow fibula, the couple is unlikely to date earlier than ca 390, when this type of fibula, conventionally known as ‘Keller Type 5’, is attested on the Obelisk base in Constantinople.107 Since the type was in use throughout the fifth century, a definite terminus ante quem cannot be established and it does not help to narrow the date of the sculpture. But the crossbow fibula indicates the man’s social status: these generally large fibulae, also known as Zwiebelknopffibulae, were made of bronze, gilt bronze or silver, sometimes even pure gold, and worn only by the highest echelons of society. Accordingly, the portrait subject is likely to have ordered his sculpted crossbow fibula presented in a way to imitate the real metal object, possibly by means of gilding. The man’s hair is thinning, falling on to the upper part of the forehead in irregular strands; he has short sideburns and beard stubble that is only visible at close range. His face is loaded with particulars of the kind noted by the sources: big ears, full lower lip, cloudy brow and a somewhat stern expression. Trying to recreate the colour of this male physiognomy, one runs the risk of ruining the surface of what in its achromatic state is certainly a fine sculpture. With his intense stare, the polychromy must have underlined this fixed (minax?) gaze. Since the stubble is only lightly engraved, one can imagine it emphasized by means of paint (cf Figs. I, 20-21). The woman differs from the one in Thessaloniki by having her hair covered. Except for a few strands at each temple and some locks that escape at the nape of the neck, the fabric gathers up the hair and covers it. Incisions around the middle of the fabric may indicate that it is bound up with a ribbon (perhaps separately attached, or they may have served as guiding lines for a painter. Two small six-petal flowers at the temples represent jewellery. As a visual counterpart to the man’s fibula, the ornaments may have been golden. To gain an idea of the appearance of The two busts were found in 1978 and first published by Özgan and Stutzinger, ‘Untersuchungen zur Porträtplastik’, with a date around 450/460. The male head measures ca 25 cm, the female head ca 23 cm. They are slightly smaller than the couple from Thessaloniki, but still slightly above life size (chin to crown ca 20-23 cm). 107 For the crossbow fibula, see most recently Eger, ‘Between Amuletic Ornament and Sign of Authority’ with ample bibliography. It is also discussed in Kiilerich & Torp, ‘Stilicho’, 330-338, and Kiilerich, Obelisk Base, 127-128. 106 46 such jewellery, a specimen very close to this is preserved in a second-century ring from Rome: six dark blue sapphires, each set in gold, are arranged around a central sapphire.108 We have adopted and adapted this design for our reconstruction. There are of course other possibilities, for instance, a more naturalistic look with red petals around a central green stone, or a golden flower. In late antiquity women are sometimes depicted with hair-coverings of various kinds, as for instance Serena on the Monza diptych (see below, Fig. II, 1213).109 However, to judge from the extant visual evidence, it was the exception rather than the rule. A lady at her toilette in a floor mosaic from Sidi Ghrib in Tunisia wears the two-tiered snood: the lower part with stripes, the upper part without. In the restricted colours of floor mosaics, the hues are yellow, red and grey.110 Women painted in the catacombs are mainly shown veiled. In the arcosolio of Primenia and Severo (Catacomba dell’ex Vigna Chiaraviglio, Rome) from the late fourth century, Primenia, under the veil, has her hair caught up in a striped head covering – possibly white and a colour that now has become greyish.111 In the mosaics of Sa Maria Maggiore, Rome, women in Biblical scenes wear a simple white two-tiered snood held together by a greyish band that divides the head covering into a lower part over the forehead and an upper part at the skull, somewhat like the woman from Stratonikeia. However, turning to the court of the pharaoh’s daughter, the hair of the finely attired ladies is adorned with a thin hairnet that leaves the dark brown hair visible. Tellingly all wear richly jewelled hair ornaments.112 Although about a century later than the Carian woman, the ladies of Theodora’s court in San Vitale furnish good visual evidence: the coverings are golden with purple or silver stripes (cf. FIG. I. 8). This is in keeping with the Edict of Diocletian that refers to maphoria, a kind of headdress, striped with purple (Edict. 29.44).113 An earlier, Egyptian letter mentions red (κοκκινα) hairnets. As for the relative status of textiles in the red-purple range, true murex-dyed purple obviously was by far the most expensive. However, cheaper substitutes were made from insects and plants, and the finest quality red (κοκκινος α) could be as expensive as some of the mock purples (P.Oxy. LIV 3765; AD 327).114 At any rate, for headdresses, as for tunics and capes, many colours and patterns were available From the Vallerano necropolis (Tomba 2), Rome, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rapinesi, ‘Il lusso a Roma’, 36, fig. 5. The sapphires are said to stem from Sri Lanka. 109 Schade, Frauen in der Spätantike, 116; see further Olson, Dress and the Roman Woman, 53-54. 110 Yacoub, Splendeurs des mosaïques de Tunesie, 223, fig. 113a. 111 Bisconti, ‘Nuovi affresci dal cimitero de ’Ex Vigna Chiaraviglio’; Bisconti, ‘Lo sguardo della fanciulla’, 66 and fig. 13a. To be further discussed below in connection with Serena on the Stilicho diptych. 112 For colour reproductions, see Wilpert and Schumacher, Die römischen Mosaiken, pl. 37. 113 See Croom, Roman Clothing and Fashion, 92. 114 See Bogensperger, ‘Purple and its various Kinds’, 239, 243; Brøns and Dross-Krüpe, ‘The Colour Purple’. 108 47 Fig. I. 16. Male bust from Stratonikeia. Bodrum Castle Museum (author) 48 Fig. I. 17. Female bust from Stratonikeia. Bodrum Castle Museum (author) 49 (which opens for several polychrome options). Taking a lead from the mosaics in Santa Maria Maggiore and San Vitale, a number of solutions present themselves: the reconstructions presented here are informed by the belief that rather than a sign of modesty, the headdress was a status symbol and an expression of fashion. As such, examples from both considerably earlier and later periods offer parallels: on a head from the temple of Athena Polias at Priene, around 334 BC, traces of paint from behind the ear indicate a hairnet.115 At the other chronological extreme, Parmigianino’s portrait of a young woman (the so-called Turkish slave) is quite instructive. A few dark curls escape from a silken net of golden threads set off by threads of silver (FIG. I. 18).116 As in the mannerist portrait, in the late antique marble sculpture from Stratonikeia the imitation of a very fine fabric, delicacy and elegance must have been aimed for, which points to a silk and golden weave. By introducing different kinds of stripes in the reconstruction drawings can be visualized the impact the design has on the perception of the face as either broad or slim (FIG. I. 19 a-f). In contrast to horizontal stripes, the vertical accentuation elongates the face.117 The headdress is open to various interpretations regarding pattern and ornamentation. Still, whatever the original design, in its current colourless state the headdress looks unfinished, as the undifferentiated surface calls for paint. In our tentative reconstructions of the subjects from Stratonikeia (Fig. I. 1921), the painting is inevitably bound to miss important points (the male figure, in particular, becomes a caricature, disregarding whether one imagines him with medium brown or black hair). For both, the potential chromatic solutions are many. In the original polychromy, the woman’s facial features and fine headdress would undoubtedly have come to the fore, while the man’s temperament, comportment and status in the administrative and military hierarchy would have been stressed. The sculpted variation that characterises the four busts from Stratonikeia and Thessaloniki suggests a similar variety in their painted features. By means of colour, details would have stood out more clearly and communicated significant aspects of the sitters. See, for instance, Prag and Neave, Making Faces, 212, fig. 4. Parma, Galleria Nazionale, see, e.g., Ghidiglia Quintavalle, ‘La schiava turca del Parmigianino’; Pommier, ‘Riflessioni sul Parmigianino ritrattista’, 61, fig. 4. 117 According to the Helmholtz illusion (1867), a square made up of horizontal lines appears narrower than a square made up of vertical lines. But the common belief is that horizontal stripes have a fattening effect, so Ashida, Kuraguchi, Miyashi, ‘Helmholtz Illusion makes you look Fit only when you are already Fit’. Contrary: Thompson and Mikellidou, ’Applying the Helmholz Illusion to Fashion: Horizontal Stripes won’t make you look Fatter’. 115 116 50 Fig. I. 18. Parmigiano, Turkish Slave. Parma Galleria Nazionale (museum photo) 51 Fig. I. 19 a-f. Woman from Stratonikeia; reconstruction of potential colours (two saturations) (author) 52 Fig. I. 20. Tentative reconstruction of colour, Stratonikeia (author) 53 Fig. I. 21. Stratonikeia bust. Alternative reconstruction of colour (author) 54 Concluding remarks The written sources that address portraiture combine two trends: Eunapius underlines that the painter aiming for likeness tries to capture the sitter, recording details reaching from eyes, nose and mouth, to wrinkles, hair and sideburns. A generation later, Theodoret of Cyrrhus similarly records that some painters ‘observe their model’ in order to reproduce the features as accurately as possible. This close attention to the model suggests ‘realistic’ or mimetic portrayal as evidenced by the four portrait busts discussed here. However, one should be wary of seeing all individualised traits as reflections of the sitter’s actual semblance. Rather than a ‘true likeness’ based on observation of individual, idiosyncratic traits, the physiognomic treatises, such as the Anonymus Latinus’ Physiognomonia Latina, advocate some stereotypic traits, which according to the textbooks would be signs of whether the person presented was, say, brave or cowardly.118 The interest in physiognomics was current in the fourth century, which, in addition to that of the Anonymus Latinus, saw treatises such as Adamantius’ Physiognomonica.119 The two trends – the close observing of the sitter and the use of standard descriptive techniques – give some possible indications with regard to the potential appearances of the couples discussed here. It is clear that around 400/450 some artists were still working in the Greco-Roman portrait tradition and took pains to record individual traits and render these faithfully in order to catch the characteristics of the subject. However, if they had a negative connotation, the artists would undoubtedly have tempered these idiosyncratic traits to make them more in line with ideal positive physiognomic features. Whether the patrons wanted lifelike representations or were more concerned with sculpted portraits as symbols of social status, colour could be employed to characterise the sitters and display their social standing. Since gold thread is preserved on textile fragments, gilding might theoretically be applied to the marble surface to imitate patterned garments and not least to highlight insignia like the crossbow fibula. Texts often stress luminance. The material marmora itself denotes shine (μαρμαρεος means flashing and gleaming, μαρμαιρο to sparkle and gleam). Thus by the very nature of the material, a portrait carved in marble is a sparkling image. It is therefore likely that sculptural paint layers were burnished and polished to achieve a luminant surface finish. Luminance, the projecting of a splendid apparition, was particularly sought for in imperial representations. See Evans, Physiognomics in the Ancient World, chap. 8, 74-83: Physiognomics in the fourth century A.D. 119 Text in Förster, Scriptores Physiognomonici Graeci et Latini, I, 301-330: Adamantius. 118 55 Chapter Two The (lost) splendour of imperial portraits Eusebius of Caesarea describes the impact that the emperor Constantine made, when he showed himself in public, perhaps at the Nicene synod. The emperor was dressed in “a splendid robe that flashed with sparkles of light, resplendent with rays of purple fire, ornamented with the radiant lustre of gold and precious stones” (VC III, 10, 3: λαμπραν μεν ωσπερ φωτος μαρμαρυγεις εξαστραπτων περιβολην, αλουργιδος δε πυρωποις καταλαμπομενος ακτισι, χρυσου τε και λιθων πολυτελων διαυγεσι φεγγεσι κοσμουμενος).120 Almost each and every word – splendid, flashing, sparkles, light, resplendent, rays, fire, lustre, gold, precious stones – refer to light and shine. This radiant appearance of the living emperor would certainly have been reflected in his images. While private portraiture at times served to ‘catch a likeness’, the main point in an imperial portrait was not to render any physiognomic resemblance to the ruler but to visualise his superhuman nature and embody the concept of imperialness. Depending on the context, the emperor could be represernted either cuirassed as imperator, dressed in a chlamys ‘resplendent with purple fire’, or in the toga picta. As the term implies, the latter garment was adorned with images, as represented on the Calendar of 354.121 In sculpted representations, the toga would gain from being painted. Whatever the attire, it goes without saying, that colour and gilding were indispensable in order to highlight the most significant and semantically important features of the imperial portrait. Constantine the Great in colour A splendid imperial apparition such as the one described by Eusebius is not reflected in the preserved archaeological material, except to a certain extent on a miniature scale on gold coins and medallions. In its present state, the remains in Parian marble of the colossal seated statue of Constantine from the Basilica Nova (Capitoline Museums, Rome) gives a far from splendid impression (FIG. II. 1).122 The head with its demanding gaze is the obvious focal point, in addition two right hands (respectively in Parian and Luna marble, indicating that we may actually be dealing with two different colossi), one right knee, part of a leg and both feet remain. There is general consensus that the head was re-cut from an earlier imperial figure, whether that be Augustus, Hadrian or a later emperor; it is therefore quite possible that all See Neri, ‘Vestito e corpo nel pensiero dei padri tardoantiche’, 228. Greek cited after Eusebio di Cesarea, Vita di Costantino. 121 See Saltzman, On Roman Time. 122 L’Orange, Diokletian bis zu den Konstantinsöhnen, 125 with earlier bibliography; Safran, ‘Reflections on the Capitoline Colossus’. 120 56 Fig. II. 1. Remains of Constantine colossus. Museo Capitolino, Rome (photo: author) parts of the statue were reused.123 The precise appearance of the colossus is open to discussion. The position of the knee proves that the statue was enthroned, while the arm and hand fragments indicate a raised right arm plausibly originally holding a sceptre, which may subsequently have been exchanged for a cross. The naked feet may surprise, since one would have expected the emperor, even if in the guise of Jupiter, to be endowed with sandals or elegant imperial footwear. Although the colossus could impress viewers by its sheer size alone, it must originally have been more colourful and not least enriched with prestigious materials. ‘The Constantine Project’ conducted at Trier in 2004 comprised the fashioning of a marble copy of the gigantic head, advanced 3D scanning, modelling and virtual reconstruction. Although the yellow hair and blue eyes are conjectural and probably too ‘Aryan’, the polychromy helps the modern viewer gain a general idea of the colossus, as it may originally have materialised in the apse of the large basilica.124 The grandiose setting of the basilica with walls clad in multi-coloured marbles and with gilded coffered ceilings would have heightened the effect of the imperial mystique. 123 124 For the marble, see Pensabene, Lazzarini and Turi, ‘New Archaeometric Investigations’. For the Trier Constantine project, see www.arctron.de 57 Italian researchers propose that this gigantic statue of Constantine presented a combination of marble and other materials, including painted stucco and, most importantly, gilded bronze for the paludamentum.125 According to this reconstruction, Constantine was draped in a gilded cloak that left most of his marble torso bare. In 2022 the statue was painstakingly reconstructed in full size and displayed at the Fondazione Prada, Milan for the exhibition ‘Recycling Beauty’.126 The result is impressive. However, one misses the colour of the marble parts. For the white and gold dichromy, one may recall that Phidias’ colossal chryselephantine statues of Zeus at Olympia and Athena Parthenos in Athens in addition to the main materials, ivory and gold, according to Pliny (NH 36.18) and Pausanias (1.24.5-7) included inset stones and painted details. A general idea of the Parthenos, which obviously fails to visualize the impact of the large scale of ca 12 m, is gained from some thirty small replicas. Foremost of these is the Athena Varvakeion statuette in Athens, which actually preserves traces of polychromy, especially in the face.127 For the representation of Constantine, the enthroned Olympic Zeus furnishes the ultimate prototype (Paus. 5.11.1ff). This renowned cult statue was well known in the late antique world; in the early fifth century it was allegedly brought to Constantinople and around 400 entered the private collection of the chief chamberlain Lausos.128 In Rome, the enthroned Jupiter Optimus Maximus provides another model image. The Trier and Roma projects gave different results. A main point in the visualisation of Constantine – and late antique emperors in general – was undoubtedly splendour: it was of the utmost importance to present the imperial apparitions as dazzling and ‘otherworldly’. White and gold, as in Phidias’ chryselephantine colossi, were colours of divine manifestation, the burnished ivory and shiny gold evoking light. This could be replicated in white marble and gilded bronze. Focusing on the potential polychromy of statues in white Parian and other fine marbles, one must be aware of the significance and beauty inherent in the material itself. As noticed among others by Fabio Barry, white (leukos: white, bright) not only means absence of colour, but also presence of light.129 The overall aesthetics of sculptural polychromy would certainly have taken into account that white does not necessarily mean colourless, as the chromatic phenomena encompass many nuances of white and light – albus, candidus, lacteus, marmoreus, niveus, See Parisi Presicce, ‘Costantino come Giove’; Parisi Presicce ‘Costantino e i suoi figli’, 113-116; further references to the portraiture of Constantine in Guidetti, ‘Iconografia di Costantino’. 125 126 https://factumfoundation.org/pag/1890/re-creating-the-colossus-of-constantine Baldini, ‘The Athena Varvakeion in Context’. For Lausos’ collection, see Bassett, The Urban Image of Constantinople, 98-120, 238, no. 157. 129 Barry, ‘A Whiter Shade of Pale’, 32. See also Mandel, ‘On the Quality of the “Colour” White in Antiquity’. 127 128 58 argenteus – from lightly to brightly white, from crystal clear to ivory, and so on, depending on the material.130 Polychromatic and polymaterial features must have followed different paradeigmata, different manners of application according to the context of display, such as lightning conditions and whether the statue was intended for an indoors or outdoors setting. The scale of the given imperial image must also have had a bearing on choice of colour. It is generally difficult to tell the size of a work recorded in the written sources, unless it is specified, for instance, that the image in question topped a column, which suggests a comparatively large scale.131 Preserved sculptures prove that imperial sculpture came in all sizes ranging from the colossal, as in the Capitoline Constantine, to smaller representatioins. The latter counts a crudely fashioned under-life-sized Constantinian emperor discovered at Messene, where it turned up in a secondary context in a private domus from 365, the original function and context being uncertain.132 Small scale sculptures of empresses were also produced, an extant example being a statuette from Cyprus. The polychromy of a Theodosian empress A marble statuette of an early fifth-century empress was brought from Cyprus to France in 1846 as a private donation (Paris, Cabinet des Medailles) (FIG. II. 3).133 As far as I am aware, the precise provenance on the island is unknown. It is equally uncertain whether the statuette was on Cyprus in late antiquity; it could theoretically have ended up on the island at a much later point in time. Measuring merely 78 cm, the statuette is unlikely to have been placed outdoors in a public context. Since the back is quite roughly treated, the figure was probably placed in a niche or against a wall. The empress has been identified as, among others, Aelia Flacilla, the first wife of Theodosius I, elevated to Augusta in 383, and Aelia Eudoxia, the wife of Arcadius, elevated to Augusta in 400. Given the short distance between Cyprus and Antioch, it might be speculated, whether the statuette could reflect the bronze stele of Aelia Eudochia set up at Antioch in 438.134 While the statuette may be tentatively interpreted as a reduced version of a statue of one of these empresses, a close dating For variant whites (albus, candidus, niveus, lacteus, marmoreus, argenteus) see André, Etude sur les termes de couleurs dans la langue latine, 25-42 ; Reiter, Bezeichnungen, 20-77; Clarke, Colour and Shining, passim. 131 For statues on columns, see Stefanidou-Tiveriou, ‘Monumental Images’ with reference to earlier bibliography. 132 See Tsivikis, ‘Teleutaioi ethnikoi’. The statue was discovered by A. Orlandos in 1969. 133 Delbrueck, Spätantike Kaiserporträts, 163, ‘Von einem Herrn de Mas Latrie aus Cypern mitgebracht, 1846 geschenkt’. 134 Stichel, Kaiserstatue, no. 103. 130 59 based on iconographical criteria, such as the type of diadem and the hairstyle, is hardly possible.135 The empress is dressed in an inner tunic, visible on the right forearm and at the left hand, a wide-sleeved dalmatic with clavi, and a diagonally draped palla. In her left hand she holds a diptych, while the right outstretched arm held a no-longerextant object. The surface has been treated in a manner that suggests the existence of colour and applications: The ears are pierced for inserting earrings; the surface below the neck is roughly carved, prepared for a Juwelkrage with four holes for its insertion; the clavi down the front of the dalmatic are left rough, plausibly they were intended to be covered with a gold foil. Finally, the missing feet were made separately, perhaps of a different type of marble.136 I have tentatively reconstructed the statuette in the prevailing imperial hues purple and gold (FIG. II. 4). As a model has served the image of Princess Anicia Juliana in the Vienna Dioscurides manuscript, c. 512; Juliana is dressed in purple and gold and wears red shoes (FIG. II. 2).137 Red shoes are prevalent in early Byzantine paintings and mosaics, but there are other possibilities, since Theodora’s shoes in the San Vitale mosaic are golden decorated with pearls and emeralds. The elegant footwear of the empress in the Norwegian Institute in Rome displays a soft, pearlstudded fashion with lacing; no colour remains, but paint would have been required in order to fully appreciate the design (FIG. II. 5).138 A large number of nonimperial footwear stems from Egypt; the finest of these are made of red or purple leather decorated with apotropaic imagery in the form of a cross or an eight-pointed star in gold. Some shoes present gilded busts; these can be understood as imperial images or as busts of Christ. Specimens of red and purple shoes with golden décor in the Byzantine and Christian Museum in Athens give a good impression of the various designs; the fashions include pointed and square toes (FIG. II. 6).139 Although details such as the shoes and the Juwelkrage of the statuette are open to discussion, in the main, I believe the reconstructed colours give at least an idea of how the statuette, and statues on a larger scale, might originally have appeared in their golden and purple splendour. Kiilerich, Classicism, 96-98. For early Byzantine empresses and their images, see James, Empresses and Power in Early Byzantium and McClanan, Representations of Early Byzantine Empresses. 136 Delbrueck, Spätantike Kaiserporträts, 164, suggested shoes made of a red stone, an idea which was repeated in Weitzmann, Age of Spirituality, 26, cat.no 20 (James Breckenridge), and Byzance: Art byzantin, cat.no. 4 (Jean-Pierre Sodini). 137 Kiilerich, ‘The Image of Anicia Juliana in the Vienna Dioscurides’. The colour reconstruction has been published in Kiilerich, Visual Dynamics, fig. 22.2, and Kiilerich, ‘Polychrome History’, fig. 3. 138 The date and interpretation of this headless statue is problematic, see Kiilerich, Classicism, 98-100; Sande, ‘Statua di Augusta o personificazione’. 139 Byzantine and Christian Museum Athens, only a general fifth- to eighth-century date is provided. 135 60 Fig. II. 2. Anicia Juliana. Vienna Dioscurides, fol. 6v. Österreischisches Nationalbibl. Vienna (photo: Wikimedia Commons) 61 Fig. II. 3. Late antique empress statuette. Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Cabinet des médailles (photo: BNF) 62 Fig. II. 4. Empress statuette. Reconstruction of colours (author) 63 Fig. II. 5. Empress (?) Norwegian Institute in Rome, Detail of shoe (photo: author) Fig. II. 6. Late antique shoes from Egypt. Athens, Byzantine and Christian Museum (photo: author) 64 Polymateriality The portrait heads of an empress, conventionally known as ‘Ariadne’, ca 500, are preserved in three variants (two in Rome, Lateran and Capitoline museum (Fig. II. 7), one in Paris). These sculptures originally had inset eyes and inset semi-precious jewels in the diadem.140 In the hood of the Lateran head are remains of underpainting in red and yellow, suggesting that it was originally gilded. A close-up photo of the upper part of the Lateran head further discloses some material residue in the area of the diadem, plausibly remains of paint.141 It can be assumed that all three heads had a painted and gilded hood. These imperial images, then, were polychrome, chrysochrome and polymaterial. Based on the slight remains of colour on the hood and the black slate inset in the eyes, Paolo Liverani has presented a reconstruction of the Lateran empress. It comprises gold for the headdress, green bezels in the diadem and red lips.142 If one takes the reconstruction a step further, some make-up in the form of a marking of eyes and eyebrows may be proposed; the face gains aesthetically if the black eyes (slate? combining pupil and iris) are substituted by semiprecious stones, say, onyx or obsidian with black for the pupil only. The eyes may have been designed grosso modo like those preserved from the Greek period, e.g., the Delphi Charioteer and the Riace A bronze statue.143 In the Greek statues, inset eyes help animate the figures: the brown-eyed Delphi charioteer has a focused gaze, while the Riace warrior originally had quite an intense, possibly slightly intimidating stare. Around or shortly after 400, exemplified by the statuette from Cyprus and the head of an emperor from the Beyazit area of Constantinople, the pupils alone were sometimes inset.144 In the subsequent stage, around 450, the so-called Theodosius II (Paris, Louvre) had inset pupils as well as inset stones in the diadem.145 All three ‘Ariadne’ heads provide explicit evidence of the application and Rome, Musei Capitolini, Palazzo di Conservatori inv 865, height 33 cm; Rome Museo della Basilica di S. Giovanni in Laterano, height of head (without bust) 14 cm; Paris, Musée du Louvre, inv. R.F. 1525, height 25,7 cm; Aurea Roma cat.nr. 269, 270, 271 (A. Acconci); Schade, Frauen in der Spätantike, cat. I 60-62. 141 See Liverani, ‘Late antiquity’, 275, fig. 1. 142 Depicted in Liverani, ‘La policromia delle statue antiche’, 81, pls. 13-14; Liverani, ‘Late Antiquity’, 282-283. 143 For inset eyes, see Hoft, ‘Der Blick in eingelegte Augen’; 191-220; Stager, Seeing Color, 231-233. In ancient Egypt, inset eyes were normal practice; see Lucas, Ancient Egyptian Materials, 98-127, who divides the material into six classes. 144 For the Theodosian emperor from the area of Theodosius’ Forum (Beyazit), see Firatli, La sculpture, cat. no. 5; Kiilerich, Classsicism, 87-89. 145 Paris, Musée du Louvre, MA 1036; Stichel, Kaiserstatue, 55-56; Kiilerich, Classicism, fig. 106. 140 65 Fig. II. 7. Portrait of late antique empress ‘Ariadne’, Rome, Museo Capitolino (photo: author) insertion of other materials. Accordingly, rather than painted, the eyes are inset and, rather than simulated in paint the diadem’s jewels and pearls are physical, threedimensional elements (FIG. II. 7). Although the exact chronology of these works is uncertain, the general tendency seems to be an increasing polymateriality in the form of precious and shining materials for jewellery and accessories. Thus, by the year 500, marbles often had inset irides, and inset stones in the headgear.146 The reason for this is obvious: real stones were more brilliant than paint and made the imperial images more splendid. As far as the evidence goes, we may claim that these imperial portraits introduce a new aesthetics with emphasis on the richness of material through the insertion of real or artificial gems in place of mere painted illusions of such gems. In the early sixth century, we encounter a related taste for plastic chromatic features in architecture. The extent to which such rich polymateriality could be employed is illustrated by fragments of columns from the Princess Anicia Juliana’s Church of St Polyeuktos in Constantinople, under construction from ca 506 Gemstones came from Afghanistan, Pakistan, India and Iran, see Seland, ‘Gemstones and mineral Products in the Red Sea/Indian Ocean Trade’. 146 66 to 526: the marble is inlaid with squares of amethyst, triangles and trapezia of green glass, and thin strips of gold glass in the diagonal runnels.147 Except for two small front locks, there is no sign of hair on any of the heads in the ‘Ariadne group’.148 We presume that the hair on the Capitoline portrait is covered by a ‘snood’, somewhat like that of the lady from Stratonikeia and the court ladies in the Theodora mosaic at San Vitale. It is not entirely clear whether the haircovering was partly transparent or fully covering and whether it was of a single or multiple hues. Various hypothetical solutions are offered here (FIG. II. 8 a-b). The head-covering and the diadem are coloured based on the representations in the mosaics of San Vitale, Ravenna and Sa Maria Maggiore, Rome and written sources describing empress regalia. In accordance with these, gold in combination with purple have been chosen. As for the choice of encrusted stones, a spinel could stand for a green emerald, while garnet could substitute red ruby. The design echoes that of contemporary jewellery with large stones set in recesses (en cabochon).149 In jewelled band ornaments in wall- and floor mosaics, sapphire is normally depicted in the form of blue ovals, while emeralds are in the shape of green rectangles. In the sixth century, sapphires and emeralds were together with pearls reserved for imperial use (Cod.Iust. XI.11). The pearls would undoubtedly (in real life) have been white, rather than in various shades of grey and pink; they may therefore have been left in the natural colour of the stone or been highlighted in a stronger more ‘pearly’ white. In Rome fake pearls were made by coating alabaster beads with a thin layer of silver. 150 One can compare the presence in the San Vitale mosaics of real inlays of thin slices of mother-of-pearl to imitate pearls in the diadem. While the identity of the empress or empresses in the three portraits is uncertain, Ariadne, wife of emperor Zeno 466-491 and subsequently of emperor Anastasius from 491 to her death in 515, is a likely candidate. In any event, the full, mask-like face of these three portraits plausibly bears no relation to the woman’s actual face. It is the result of imperial assimilation, with the empress adhering to the portrait style of the emperor.151 Portraits known as ‘Leo’ or ‘Anastasius’ – again the identity is conjectural – show a male version of the full, rounded head with the small mouth and large (originally inset) eyes.152 Statues of emperors were undoubtedly 147 Harrison, Temple, 85, fig. 94, in colour; Pitarakis, ‘L’orfèvre et l’architecte; Kiilerich, ‘Monochromy, Dichromy and Polychromy’, fig. 4; further examples from the churches of St Euphemia and John Prodromos, Pedone, Bisanzio a colori, 165-166, fig. 114-117. 148 For a good front and side view of the head: Stichel, Kaiserstatue, pl. XXVI and XXVIII. 149 En cabochon: stones set in independent recesses; cloisonné: stones set in a network of recesses solded on the gold or silver plate; à jour: stones set in recesses cut in the plate. No pearl diadem exactly like the one worn by ‘Ariadne’ is preserved; for extant jewellery, see Baldini Lippolis, L’oreficeria nell’imperio di Constantinopoli tra IV e VII secolo. 150 See Olson, Dress and the Roman Woman, 127, n. 118. 151 For assimilation, see Holum, Theodosian Empresses, 42; Kiilerich, Classicism, 96, 101. 152 For these, see Stichel, Kaiserstatue, 59-61, pl. 27, 29. 67 Fig. II.8. a-b. Reconstrucion of colour and gilding (author) 68 coloured, gilded and gem-incrusted in like manner as the female equivalents. But it must, of course, be recalled that marble was not the favourite material for imperial images. According to the epigraphical evidence, most imperial statues in public places were made of metal (for which see below, 81ff); thus it is reasonable to infer that the polychrome, polymaterial marble statues were mostly reserved for indoor settings. The colour of ivory An idea of what the body of the empress statue(s) could have looked like may be gained from contemporary diptychs. While the ‘Ariadne’ marble heads do not necessarily represent the same empress as the one depicted on two ivory leaves (Museo del Bargello, Florence and Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna), again the name Ariadne, conventionally given to these ivories, is a convenient match.153 The detailed description of the garments on the two ivories provides an idea of how respectively a seated and a standing statue could have appeared.154 Based on their style, the two ivories may have been carved in the same workshop. The question of the potential colouring of the ‘Ariadne’ ivories is of interest both for the medium per se and concerning the relation of the small-scale images to large scale sculpture. When viewing late antique ivories in museums today, practically no colour is visible to the naked eye. Were these ivories brightly painted, were they chrysochrome (actually making them chryselephantine), or were they left in a monochrome state?155 The combination of ivory and other substances was common in earlier antiquity, the Nimrud ivories being a case in point.156 Gilded fragments from archaic Delphi also survive, and the rich Hellenistic material from the royal tombs at Vergina and other Macedonian sites show a delicate use of both paint and gilding.157 Moreover, from Homer to Vergil, ancient poets attest to the practice of colouring The identification goes back at least to 1898, Modigliani, ‘Avori de’ bassi tempi rappresentanti un’imperatrice’. For a discussion of the ivories and the marbles, see Angelova, ‘The Ivories of Ariadne’. 154 Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum, inv. N. X 39; see Volbach, Elfenbein no. 52; Aurea Roma, no. 268 (K. Painter) with excellent colour photo; Florence: Museo del Bargello: Volbach, Elfenbein, no. 51; Gaborit-Chopin, Avori medievali, 24-27; Paolucci, Museo Nazionale del Bargello, 16-18. Height: 26 cm (Vienna); 30.5 cm (Florence). 155 Connor, The Color of Ivory, 24, argues for a strong polychromy of Byzantine ivories, with red, green, blue and gold as the most frequent colours; Connor, ‘Color in late antique and Byzantine ivories. See also Pedone, Bisanzio a colori, 60-64. 156 Mallowan, The Nimrud Ivories, frontispiece shows an ivory relief with well-preserved gilt, lapis lazuli and carnelians. 157 See in general, Lapatin, Chryselephantine Statuary. The practice of colouring ivory in miniature has been established for late fourth-century BC ivory inlays on couches in the Macedonian tombs at Aigai and Korinos, Brecoulaki, ‘A Microcosm of Colour and Shine’. 153 69 Fig. II. 9. ‘Ariadne’ ivory. Florence. Bargello museum (photo: author) 70 Fig. II. 10-11. ‘Ariadne’ ivory. Reconstruction of colour on tablion (photo, drawing: author) 71 ivory. Homer noted that the blood on Menelaos’ thigh looked ‘like red on ivory’ (Il. 4.141) and Vergil wrote of ‘Indian ivory coloured by bloody purple’ (Aeneid 12.6471).158 Thus, late antique ivories were plausibly painted at least to some extent. In both leaves, the empress is attired in the chlamys, a male garment of military origin (FIG. II. 9). This garment was never worn by ordinary women, only empresses could don the emperor’s purple chlamys as a sign of power. Imagining the ivories to have been polychrome, ‘Ariadne’ would have been dressed in purple in the fashion of Theodora in the San Vitale mosaic. The ‘Ariadne’ diptychs are characterized by ornamentation carved in high relief: the large pearls lining the chlamys are plastically formed, standing out from the surface. In the Vienna ivory, the empress’ chlamys has a regular spread of flowers. On the Florence leaf, the emperor’s bust on her pearl-lined tablion signifies that the empress has received her authority from the emperor, who was portrayed on the no-longer-extant companion leaf. In its detailed presentation, the tablion demands attention. It shows an image of the emperor holding a sceptre crowned with a tiny imperial bust. The motif is very detailed fashioned: in the small image, one can discern the pearls and gems of the dress and the perpendulia of the diadem. Such minute details would plausibly have been highlighted in colour and gilt (FIG. II. 10-11).159 In connection with the presenting of a chlamys to Tzath, King of the Lazi in 522, John Malalas notes that this chlamys was white. Instead of the more usual purple tablion, it had an imperial golden tablion with a portrait bust of Emperor Justin in true purple (αντι πορφυρου ταβλιου χρυσουν βασιλικον ταβλιον .... στηθαριον αληθινον εχοντα τον χαρακτηρα του αυτου βασιλεως Ιουστινου Joh. Mal. 17.9, 413414). The term χαρακτηρ actually means a ‘stamp’, as in a numismatic image, and the word indicates a two-dimensional effigy of the imperial head or bust, an image, χαρακτηρ, of a purple-clad emperor set against a gold ground.160 In other instances, the colours may have been reversed, depicting a golden bust on a purple ground (cf. below, the Stilicho diptych). At any rate, on the diptychs, the insigne could have been rendered in purple on gold, gold on purple, or gold on white in a chrysochrome scheme. The gold on the Ariadne diptych in Vienna is of recent date, but antique gilding is suggestive. Remains of potential colour are, however, totally uncertain. Some violet has been detected in the background. But it must be noted that the presumed violet colour may be evidence of gilding as a purplish colouration can be See Bradley, Colour and meaning, 151. My photos of the Florence ivory studied close up in 2013 do not disclose any traces of colour. 160 For the passage, see Woodfin, ‘Repetition and Replication, 42; Rollason, Gifts of Clothing, 1-3, 76-79. 158 159 72 the unintentional result of gold present as nanoparticles, that is, as extremely small elements.161 Diptychs as reflections of large-scale statues One of the largest and most exquisitely fashioned ivories is the Stilicho diptych at Monza, probably carved around 395-398.162 It can be included among imperial portraiture, as it depicts Theodosius’ niece and adoptive daughter Serena in a dynastic portrayal together with her husband the general Stilicho and their son Eucherius (FIG. II. 12). It is likely that the small, but monumentally conceived and very detailed rendering, reflects a large-scale representation, conceivably a statue group. There is no record of a family group, but there is epigraphical evidence for two statues of Stilicho erected in Rome respectively in the late fourth and the early fifth century.163 To highlight details and enhance the visual effect, the Stilicho diptych probably had elements picked out in gold and possibly in colour. Serena’s hair is covered. The gold and purple head-coverings worn by the court ladies in the Theodora mosaic in San Vitale at Ravenna furnish the best parallels. These headcoverings may be the purple-striped maphoria (cf. the portrait from Stratonikeia) referred to in the Edict of Diocletian (Edict. 29.44). Since purple and gold were most highly esteemed, it is likely that Serena’s head covering and her attire – if painted – were predominantly held in the purple to violet range, as we also suggested for the hood of the Capitoline ‘Ariadne’.164 The precious stones that decorate Serena’s belt could have been marked with green for emeralds in square stones and either blue for sapphires or red for rubies in the oval stones, in accordance with the most usual way of representing these stones in mosaics and other media (FIG. II. 13). Kenneth Painter in Aurea Roma, no. 268, p. 267 refers to ‘viola’ for the background. For the unintentional purple colouration of gilded ivories, see Piening, ‘Gold to Purple: Violet Traces on Antique Marble’; Kopczynski, ‘Polychromy in Africa Proconsularis’, 148. 162 Kiilerich and Torp, ‘Stilicho’. Not everyone agrees on the Stilicho identification, proposed in 1882 by Jullian (‘le diptyque de Stilicon’). However, as Alan Cameron, ‘The status of Serena and the Stilicho diptych’, 509-516, puts it: ‘In view of the unparalleled presence of a high-status female and Stilicho’s open parading of his dynastic plans, it is difficult to entertain the possibility of any identification of the three honorands other than as Serena, Stilicho and Eucherius.’ 163 Kiilerich, ‘A Head of a Boy’, 205 with n. 19: statues erected between 398 and 400 and between 405 and 408. For the ‘public image’ of Stilicho as constructed by the poet Claudian, see Nathan, ‘The Ideal Male in Late Antiquity’. 164 On the late antique predilection for and status attached to purple and gold, see GrandClément, ‘Gold and Purple’. 161 73 Fig. II. 12. Stilicho-diptych, Monza (photo: museum) 74 Fig. II. 13. Monza diptych. Serena. Reconstruction of colour of garments (author) Jewels are depicted in the Theodora mosaic in San Vitale, and in representations of female personifications’ jewellery and in jewelled borders in late antique Syrian mosaic floors.165 Serena’s earrings are shaped as large pearls suspended from a golden ring, while the necklace consists of large, equal-sized pearls.166 Julia Domna’s necklace of white pearls in the painted Fayum tondo, now in Berlin, provides a parallel. A woman on a third-century gold mesallion of mother with son and daughter, reused in the Desiderius cross at Brescia, also wears a a pearl necklace.167 See Kiilerich, ‘The Abundance of Nature’; Pedone, ‘Jewels in the Mosaics of Antioch’. Ancient jewellery abounds, yet exact correspondences between preserved material and represented imagery are often difficult to find. For the early Byzantine period see, Baldini Lippolis, L’oreficeria nell’impero di Costantinopoli; Cygielman, ‘Gli ornamenti’, and Cianferoni, ‘Roma: lusso, apparenza, invettive’. 165 166 167 See, e.g., Elsner, Imperial Rome, fig. 22 and fig. 10. 75 Fig. II. 14. Decorations in gold leaf (Christ?, emperor?) (photo: author) Fig. II. 15. Reconstruction of purple and gold roundels on Stilicho’s garments (author) 76 Stilicho’s garments are of particular interest because of their figural decorations. The chlamys shows a repeat pattern of imperial busts in roundels, while the tunic combines two motifs: the busts in roundels alternate with a repeat pattern of full-length figures standing in arcades, perhaps Tychai or personifications of Roma and Constantinopolis. In accordance with preserved fragments of Byzantine silks and the golden busts that decorate red and purple shoes (FIG. II. 14), it is tempting to reconstruct the figures in gold on a purple ground (FIG. II. 15). In the sixth-century Rossano Gospels two illuminations of Christ before Pilate (fol. 8r and 8v) depict imperial golden busts on blue-painted standards and on the white cloth of the judge’s table.168 In connection with Stilicho’s garments, the ‘eye-witness’ account of Claudian is pertinent. Although phrased in highly poetic terms, and thus not to be taken verbatim, the ‘house-poet’ describes another item in the general’s wardrobe, a toga picta or trabea ‘heavy with gold’ (graves auro trabeas) (De Stil. II.340). The complex scenes lauded by the poet (De Stil. II. 330-361, year 400) include woven images of a palace with columns of red marble (rutilis aula columnis) (ibid. 341). 169 This reflects the columnar design on Stilicho’s tunic. Floridi colours and jewels In celebration of the fourth consulate of Honorius in 398, Claudian describes the emperor’s consular robe as decorated with Indian stones (presumably blue sapphires), with rows of green emeralds at the seam, with amethysts and with Spanish gold ‘tempering the blue flame’ of the hyakinthos. This splendid robe had embroideries in the form of pictures in metal thread and imagery in jasper (red) and pearl (Panegyricus de IV consulate Honorii augusti II, 585-592): Asperat Indus velamenta lapis pretiosaque fila smaragdis ducta virent; amethystus inest et fulgor Hiberus temperat arcanis hyacinthi caerula flammis. Nec rudis in tali suffecit gratia textu; auget acus meritum picturatumque metallis vivit opus: multa remorantur iaspide cultus et variis spirat Nereia baca figuris. Needless to say that Claudian’s description is a little over the top and that we do not have to embrace the idea of emperors at all times parading like living adverts for jewellery manufacturers. Still, there is little doubt that they went out of their way to present self-images that gained in magical allure by means of exotic gems and other finery. As witnessed by middle Byzantine illuminated manuscripts and mosaics, by the ninth century imperial garments for both emperor and empress were heavily studded with pearls and stones.170 But as Claudian notes, the taste for these precious substances was probably part of the imperial hieros typos from the very beginning. See Weitzmann, Late Antique and Early Christian Book Illumination, pls. 30-31. Kiilerich and Torp, ‘Stilicho’, 364-367; Woodfin, ‘Repetition and Replication’, 39-41. 170 See Kiilerich, ‘Attire’; Kiilerich, ‘Likeness and Icon’; Kiilerich, ‘Gender and Fashion’. 168 169 77 The colours preferred for late imperial images are those found in the mineral world of gems and stones. They are close to Pliny’s floridi, the most precious and expensive hues that were appreciated above the rest (NH 35.30). These include two reds, red lead and vermillion (minium and cinnabaris), azur blue (armenium), green (chrysocolla), bluish purple (indicum), and purple (purpurissum). Pliny informs that purpurissum was the finest (35.45), followed by indicum (35.46), next came armenium, which could range from blue to green (35.47). The floridi are the colours that we today call jewel colours. They are saturated and especially brilliant and radiant shades of blue (sapphire), red (ruby), green (emerald), and purple (amethyst), the very ones exploited by the imperial house. Porphyry statues Polychromy is usually associated with the painting of white marble. But even coloured stones were plausibly painted. Used throughout the imperial period, porphyry was a distinctive material that from the Tetrarchy until the closing of the quarries around the middle of the fifth century was especially popular for imperial statuary and sarcophagi.171 According to Diocletian’s Price Edict of 301, the purplered porphyry from Mons Porphyrites in Egypt along with the green ‘serpentine’ from Sparta was the most costly stones of all.172 The porphyries were in demand for works in opus sectile and for architectural decoration, but they were less well suited for statues. Because of its hardness, porphyry is very difficult and time-consuming to work and requires another sculpting technique than marble. Although many porphyry statues tend to reduce plastic treatment to a minimum, various carving styles are represented among extant material. This variation suggests that the statues may have differed in potential polychromy styles as well. That is, if the statues were indeed painted.173 While the practise of painting hard stone is more difficult to imagine than the painting of softer stones like marble and limestone, there was a long tradition in Egypt for painting statues of granite and diorite. Sometimes the clothes, hair and eyes were painted, while the naked parts of the body were left bare leaving the figure with a mottled – and quite non-naturalistic – skin. It is apparent that paint was an indispensable component of the ancient Egyptian sculpted image, but it was equally important that the expensive material remained visible. An eloquent example of colour on hard stone are the four funerary portrait statues of a high official named Sekhemka ca 2450-2325 BC: two of limestone, one of black diorite and one of red granite. The granite statue’s hair was painted black and the eyes were rendered in Delbrueck, Antike Porphyrwerke. Lauffer, Diokletians Preisedikt, ch. 33, 192-193, 280-281. 173 Affirmative, e.g., Delbrueck, Antike Porphyrwerke, 85-86; Abbe, ‘Polychromy’; Bergmann, ‘Porphyrarbeiten’, 796, claims that ‘alle Porphyrskulpturen gemalt waren ‘. 106 172 78 black and white. The collar had inlays in green and blue on a white ground, while the white kilt had yellow pleats and a belt in green, red and white.174 In late antique porphyry statuary, the costly and finely polished stone was the main point and it therefore seems unlikely that the surface should have been totally covered in paint.175 But the impression of shining porphyry – especially well-suited for mimicking the emperor’s purple chlamys and purple toga – could have been further enhanced by contrasting details. The tablion on the chlamys, which in porphyry often has not been sculpted but delineated by incised lines, may have been picked out in colour and gilt. Moreover, the jewels of diadems and the jewelled handles of swords, as those held by the Tetrarchs, later appropriated for the Church of San Marco at Venice (FIG. II. 16) would have been more distinctive if painted.176 A large jewel originally decorated their pillbox headdresses. Along with painted or inset stones in red (for ruby), blue (for sapphire) and green (for emerald), with pearls painted in white (perhaps by means of a paste of grounded mother-of-pearl?), gilding would have made an impact. In some portrait heads, variation in surface finish indicates that hair and beard might have been finished by use of a paint brush. An over life-size portrait head from Gamzigrad, ca 300, plausibly represents Galerius (Zajecar National Museum).177 The hair lies flat against the head like a close-fitting cap, while the beard is barely sketched. A recent hypothetical reconstruction presents the head with coloured hair and beard, and based on the deeper carved white of the eye, with a sclera in white surrounding an iris in the colour of the stone.178 The gem-studded laurel-wreath diadem displays four busts. They may be the Tetrarchs, but have more convincingly been interpreted as images of the divinities Jupiter, Hercules, Mars and Sol.179 At some point in time these small busts were subject to defacement and all are now headless. Each bust differs: one wears a chlamys, another a tunic, a third is dressed in scale armour, while a fourth shows a bare breast. Since the artists took care to depict specific types of garment, it is likely that they included paint or gilt to differentiate and highlight these insignia. Porphyry and the purple (purpura) colour had strong symbolic meaning.180 The purple attire, indumentum purpurae, was a sign of imperialness, an insigne regiae Discussed by Morgan, ‘Enlivening the Body’, 6. For colour photos, see I marmi colorati, 329-333. 176 For the Venice Tetrarchs, see Niewöhner & Peschlow, ‘Neues zu den Tetrarchenfiguren’. 177 Found in 1993, see Srejovic, ‘The Representations of Tetrarchs in Romuliana’, figs. 10-13; figs. 14-17: Tetrarch busts; Bergmann, ‘Porphyrarbeiten’, 794-795, with fig. 22a-d. 178 Bergmann, ‘Porphyrarbeiten’, 820, fig. 25, reconstruction with painted eyes, hair and beard. 179 Laubscher, ‘Beobachtungen’, divinities. 180 See, e.g., Blum, Purpur als Statussymbol, esp. 20-41; Bradley, Colour and Meaning, 189-211. 174 175 79 Fig. II. 16. Two tetrarchs. San Marco, Venice (photo: author) 80 dignitatis, as Lactantius phrased it (Lact. Inst. 4.7).181 In the adoratio purpurae rite, the person kneeled before the emperor, took the tip of the emperor’s purple chlamys in his hand and presumably (although not expressly stated in the sources) kissed it.182 As William Avery put it: ‘The significance of the hallowed purple grew to so great proportions during the fourth century that anyone who thought he had support enough to seize the power advertised himself as emperor by exhibiting himself clad in that color.’183 Ambrose noted that people who came to witness the emperor’s adventus failed to see his face clearly but could imagine its splendour from the purple robe (In ps 118, 8, 19).184 Again, this gives evidence of the importance of colour: the purple cloak functioned as a ‘prompt’, a visual signal of the emperor, whether in person or in effigy. In a porphyry statue, the notion of the ‘purpleshining’ emperor came fully to the fore. The lustre of statues in gold, silver and bronze Although some imperial images were fashioned in porphyry and other stone, foremost marble, most late imperial statues were cast in precious metals. The sources refer to gold, gilded bronze and silver-gilded bronze (statua auri, statua sub auro, statua ex aere argentoque).185 Epigraphic and literary sources mention a large number of statues in metal: for instance, silver stelai of Gratian and his wife were set up in Rome, while a silver stele of Valentinian I crowned an arch in Constantinople; a seated statue of Theodosius I was cast in bronze, while a column statue and an equestrian statue of Theodosius were made of silver. A statue of silver-gilded bronze combining bronze and silver honoured his son Honorius (statua ex aere argentoque, no. 86). Bronze statues of the Theodosian family were erected in front of the senate in Antioch. For empresses are recorded, among others, a silver statue of Eudoxia on a porphyry column in Constantinople, a gilded statue of Galla Placidia, and a golden eikon and a bronze stele of Eudochia in Antioch 438. Seven statues of Justin I’s family, 518/527 at the Chalke included works in both marble and bronze. 186 These images glimmered and shone, sustaining the notion of the imperial persons as ‘super-human’ beings; the belief in the emperor’s elevated status was needed to sustain the loyalty of the subjects. Late antique terms for statues include statua, stele, eikon, andrias, agalma and simulacrum. But unless it is specified in the text, it is often difficult from the term For imperial dress, see Kiilerich, ‘Attire’; Uscatescu, ‘Indumentaria imperial’. Avery, ‘Adoratio’, 67 with reference to John Chrysostom and other sources. 183 Avery, ‘Adoratio’, 76. 184 Neri, ‘Vestito’, 229. 185 See Stichel, Kaiserstatue; Niquet, Monumenta virtutum titulique, 63-69. 186 Examples are taken from Stichel, Kaiserstatue, catalogue, nos. 6 (Gratian), 52, 55, 57, 86, 58, 91, 94, 103, 126. 181 182 81 alone to gain precise information about whether the statue was standing or seated and whether it was made of stone or metal. As for the term stele, a common term in inscriptions, Du Cange gives ‘statue, sed ea propriè quae columnae est imposita’, that is a statue placed on a column.187 In other contexts, the word may denote a relief or a monument. In ancient Greece, stelai were mainly associated with grave reliefs, but the meaning had changed over time and in late antiquity the word could mean stone slab, base, statue and monument. It is therefore quite possible, that stele had become a column topped with a statue. The epigraphical and literary evidence indicates that imperial images set on columns were mainly made of bronze or silver. Stetharia, busts, of Honorius, Theodosius II and Pulcheria were set up in the senate in Constantinople in 414.188 Depicted in illuminated manuscripts, such as the purple-dyed Rossano Gospel of the second half of the sixth century, these imperial images are usually gilded.189 The gold bust of Septimius Severus (193-211) found at Didymoteicho in Thrace provides a fine example (Archaeological Museum of Komotini, Rodopi). Made of hammered gold and slightly under life-size, it may have been set up in an official building, and/or it may have been an imperial image carried on a pole by an imaginiferus.190 Examples in silver of Tetrarchic emperors also survive.191 Most of the extant busts were made of a single type of metal, either gold or silver, only rarely combining a face in one alloy with hair in another. This is significant inasmuch as the images thus can be regarded as ‘monochrome’; it also warns us to be wary of assuming all types of images to be brightly multi-coloured and multi-material. Small imperial busts, mainly in bronze, are quite common as weights. They do provide some information on iconographical matters, but they are less eloquent with regard to the question of colour and gilding. Of interest is a rather peculiar example of what could be a miniature variant of a stetharion: among the items in the fourth-century Hoxne treasure is a gilded silver piperatorium (pepper-strainer) shaped as an empress.192 While the (mis)use of an imperial image for this purpose may seem somewhat surprising, it can possibly be explained by the fact that pepper was a highly valued exotic spice.193 Because of the value of silver and gold and because of the visual effects that could be achieved in surface finish, effigies in precious metal were more highly regarded than sculpted images. A shiny surface of polished metal has a dynamic Du Fresne du Cange, 1688, 1447, s.v. stele. Stichel, Kaiserstatue no. 95. 189 See Weitzmann, Late Antique and Early Christian Book Illumination, pls. 30-31. 190 Found in 1965; Vavritsas, ‘Chryse protome ek Didymoteichou’. For a thorough discussion with excellent photos of this and later busts, see de Pury-Gysel, Goldbüste. 191 De Pury-Gysel, Goldbüste provides a good overview. 192 For the pepper strainer, see Bland and Johns, Hoxne Treasure, colour plate frontispiece. 193 For the trade in spice, see Tomber, ‘Indo-Roman Trade’. A silver pepper-strainer from the third-century Chaourse treasure (British Museum) is in the form of a seated slave boy. 187 188 82 Fig. II. 17. Missorium of Theodosius, detail of emperor. Madrid Real Academia (photo: author) lustre where local regions of brightness change with a small change in viewing angle, a visual effect that is caused by retinal rivalry from local brightness differences.194 This lustre can be gleaned from the originally gilded silver Missorium of Theodosius, a work that celebrates the emperor’s decennalia in 388.195 On the plate, the enthroned emperors can be considered miniature reflections of imperial icons, either in the form of a seated statue-group or individual statues (FIG. II. 17-18). The seated formula of the enthroned emperor – recalling the enthroned Zeus at Olympia and its Jupiter derivations – constituted an alternative to that of the standing imperator.196 One of the most characteristic traits of the missorium is the very meticulous delineation of details: the imperial attire displays a profusion of woven and embroidered patterns and meticulously designed shoes with pearls and gems. The question therefore imposes: was this a special ‘trend’ in silver plate, or did largescale statues include a comparable rich detailing? See for instance Gregory, Seeing through Illusions, 145. For technical, iconographical and stylistic aspects see Almagro-Gorbea (ed.), El Disco de Teodosio. Thanks to Achim Arbeiter for access to the Academia in 2010. 196 Written evidence, e.g., Stichel, Kaiserstatue, cat. nr. 8, 52, 116. 194 195 83 Fig. II. 18. Missorium of Theodosius, detail of emperor. Madrid Real Academia (photo: author) There is actual evidence of patterned garments rendered in metallochromy. At Volubilis in Marocco, ancient Mauretania, was discovered a fragment of an imperial paludamentum that stems from an over-life-sized equestrian statue of Caracalla, ca 200. By combining bronze, copper, silver and brass alloys with inlays in black and orange, the artist succeeded in giving the impression of a richly ornamented garment with images of captives, trophies, shields and weapons ordered in registers (FIG. II. 19).197 The colours of the alloys range from silvery white, through yellow-orange to dark red, purplish and black. Most polymaterial bronze has long since vanished, but the Volubilis fragment was hardly unique. It gives insight into the chromatic range of metal. Colour and metal is interrelated. In Egypt colour words were intimately connected with metals and minerals: precious materials gave their names to colour: the word for yellow came from gold, white and bright from silver, dark blue from lapis lazuli and green from malachite.198 Boube-Piccot, Les bronzes antiques du Maroc, 87-103, pls. 16-37. Aufrère, ‘Les couleurs sacrée en Egypte ancienne’; Warburton, ‘Colours in Bronze-Age Egyptian Art and Language’; Barbotin, ‘Couleur, matériaux et lumière’ ; Becker, ‘Pigment’. 197 198 84 Fig. II. 19. Volubilis, detail of paludamentum, ca 200 85 Fig. II. 20. Constantinian bronze colossus. Rome Musei Capitolini (photo: author) Because of having been melted down, very few late antique statues in metal remain. Excluding miniature versions, it amounts to little more than about a dozen pieces or so.199 One of the most impressive works was the gilded Constantine-Helios that crowned the porphyry column in Constantinople.200 Although the statue has been subject to much attention, it is still debated whether Constantine was portrayed in heroic nudity or, more likely, in the long robe (xystus) of the Sun-Helios charioteer, as represented in the medallion on the east side of the Arch of Constantine; both variants are preserved in Constantinian iconography.201 This colossal statue significantly embodied the concept of the emperor as a shining sun, a concept that was to remain important throughout the Byzantine period. Of this imagery, small replicas such as a bronze statuette of an emperor-Sol found in Jutland in Denmark are but pale reflections.202 For precise numbers of statues and fragments, the Oxford Last Statues of Antiquity (LSA) database can be consulted. 200 See Ousterhout, ‘The Life and Afterlife of Constantine’s Column’. 201 Torp, ‘Christus Verus Sol – Christus Imperator’. 202 Nationalmuseet, Copenhagen, in recent years not on display; preserved height: 0.50 m; orig. height with feet ca 0.60 m; Mackeprang, ‘Kaiserstatuette’. Torp, ‘Sfondo storico Cristo’, 199 86 The few extant works on a monumental scale count the head and body fragments of the Constantinian bronze colossus in Rome, which reached some 10 to 12 m total size – the head from chin to crown alone measuring an impressive 1.25 m. As visual traces prove, this statue was originally gilded with the gilding of the head covering both hair and skin parts (FIG. II. 20).203 Like the Capitoline marble colossus, the effigy was probably reused, reworked into Constantine or Constantius II from the portrait of an earlier emperor.204 The original context of the statue is unknown, but as a rule of thumb, an outdoor setting for bronzes and an indoor setting for marbles was normal practice. At the occasion of Constantius’ visit to Rome in 356, an equestrian statue was erected in his honour; in 334 a similar monument had been set up for his father. The base, preserved near the Arch of Septimius Severus, is large enough to accommodate the bronze colossus.205 Whether the imperial statue, which held an orb in his left hand, stems from an equestrian, a seated, or a standing statue, remains uncertain and it is therefore futile to speculate further on its appearance. The Barletta colossus is the only extant full figure in bronze (with forearms and legs from knees down restored in the Renaissance) (FIG. II. 21). It is an imposing imperator statue in bronze, standing more than 5 m tall. Unfortunately, the date of the colossus and the identity of the emperor are heavily disputed: over the years some ten to twelve emperors, from Constantine to Charlemagne have been proposed.206 This goes to show how little we actually know about late antique imperial iconography. Recent scientific research on the colossus, carried out in situ in Barletta in 2014-2015, provides new information on the alloy.207 According to the EDXRF (energy dispersion X-ray fluorescence) analysis, the various parts of the statue are made from different alloys. The body has a markedly higher content of lead than the head, while the diadem shows an alloy with a higher content of copper; in its pristine state the diadem would have looked more reddish than the surround. Noticeable is the high content of lead, especially prevalent in the cuirass but also 85-86, and Torp, ‘Christus Verus Sol’, believes the statuette to represent either Constantine or one of his successors in the guise of Sol Invictus. 203 Ensoli, ‘I colossi di bronzo a Roma, 71-77; Parisi Presicce, ‘L’abbandono della moderazione’, esp. 152-153; Parisi Presicce, ‘Costantino e i suoi figli’, 116-119. 204 Prusac, ‘The Constantinian Bronze Colossus’, argues that the portrait was fashioned from a head of Nero, which was refashioned into Commodus and subsequently into Constantine. 205 See Parisi Presicce, ‘Costantino e i suoi figli’, 117-118. 206 For discussion of chronology and possible reuse of the statue, see Kiilerich, ‘The Barletta Colossus’; Kiilerich, ‘Barletta Colossus, Identity’. 207 I am grateful to Luisa Derosa of the University of Bari for providing me with information on the results of the technical analysis (third to sixth century) and for inviting me to contribute to the publication, Le due vite del Colosso. 87 Fig. II. 21. Barletta colossus. Barletta (photo: author) conspicuous in the alloy of the face.208 The combination of different alloys may be explained by cost and availability of metal – considering the large size of the statue, the casting is quite thin with a maximum of 5 cm. It is likely that the colossus was fashioned from metal from melted-down statues.209 The poor quality of the alloy points to a comparatively late date, probably after around 500, when copper and tin were in short supply and the melting down of statues and the reuse of earlier monuments became still more common. I have very tentatively suggested that the heavily leaded statue could be identical with the ‘iron’ statue (eikona siderou) of Emperor Anastasius (491-518) that was set up on the euripus of the hippodrome in Constantinople (Anth.pal. XI, 270; Lydus, De magistratibus 239, 14-15). While this may be a shot in the dark, the mature facial features of the Buccolieri et al., ‘The Restoration of the Colosso di Barletta: EDXRF Analysis’; Derosa, ‘Note sul colosso di Barletta’. 209 The very low content of copper – between 30 and 68 % – is atypical for antique statues, as is the correspondingly very high content of lead. According to Buccolieri et al., the lead content varies from 10 to 50 %. An earlier analysis by De Tommasi, ‘Il restauro del “Colosso”’, 154, gave a slightly higher reading for copper: 72% with 22% lead. While it is difficult to draw definite chronological conclusions from the alloys, one might suspect a comparatively late date for the colossus. 208 88 colossus are in keeping with the fact that Anastasius was proclaimed emperor at the age of 60.210 If, indeed, the statue was meant to portray this emperor, there are other possible provenances: at Anastasius’ birthplace Dyrrachium (Durres) in Albania, archaeologists have found the remains of a large circular forum, the design of which recalls that of Constantine’s forum in Constantinople. The heavy foundations for a large monument suggest that a column crowned by a statue was erected in the centre, in the manner of the Constantinopolitan forum.211 Dyrrachium being situated on the Adriatic coast facing Barletta, it is tempting to speculate that the colossus might stem from there rather than from Constantinople. Identifying the Barletta colossus with the statue of Marcian that topped the Column of Marcian in Constantinople, ca 450, Richard Delbrueck proposed that the colossus might have been gilded. In order to give an impression of imperial purple, he reckoned with a copper layer on the diadem band (this is in keeping with the recent analysis that established a higher content of copper in the diadem), on the nolonger-extant footwear, and on part of the cuirass. Delbrueck also thought that the sclera of the eyes had a silver layer.212 Silver actually has quite a striking effect, as it transpires when the sclera is thus painted in a reconstruction sketch (FIG. II. 2223). One may imagine gild applied to enhance the diadem, hair and stubbly beard. In our sketch we have tentatively gilded the emperor’s hair and stubble. Conceivably, the belt, the gorgoneia (Fig. II. 24) and the fringes of the tunic could similarly have been gilded. The no-longer-extant attributes: the cross, cross-staff, lance or labarum the emperor held in his right and the globe in his left hand could have been either gilded or made of a different metal. The separately inserted fibula was plausibly of a contrasting metal. It may be speculated whether the central jewel of the diadem, which has no direct parallel in preserved statues or in represented diadems, in its present form is a substitute. Originally it could have been made of some semiprecious material that was later removed due to its value.213 While we cannot substantiate any metallochromy or applied paint on the enigmatic Barletta emperor, gilded accents would certainly have made the colossus even more impressive and changed its general appearance, making it look less heavy. In general, the more the large image sparkled and shone (whether from burnished bronze or with the addition of other materials), the more ‘supernaturally’ aweinspiring would be the effect. The aesthetic impact of shiny metal is evident. The See Kiilerich, ‘Barletta Colossus Identity’, 20. See Hoti et al., ‘The Early Byzantine Circular Forum in Dyrrachium’. 212 Delbrueck, Spätantike Kaiserstatuen, 219. His observations are partly based on LehmannHartleben and Kluge (whom he however claims provided incorrect information) and an article by Herbert Koch from 1912. 213 Kiilerich, ‘The Barletta Colossus’, 58. 210 211 89 Fig. II. 22. Barletta emperor. Potential gilding of hair and beard, silver sclera (author) 90 Fig. II. 23. Barletta emperor. Potential gilding of hair and beard (author) 91 dazzling appearance of the imperial person – or his statue – was a topos, thus Suetonius claimed that a spectator looking at Augustus might avert his gaze as if ‘dazzled by the rays of the Sun’ (Sueton, Aug. 79: fulgorum solis vultum). The inscription on the equestrian statue of Theodosius I in the Forum Tauri in Constantinople referred to the emperor as ‘another shining sun’ (Anth.Pal. 16.65). In his panegyric praising Theodosius, Pacatus declared that ‘the more splendid the external appearance of anything, the more it is believed to derive from heaven’ (Paneg. 6.3).214 The lustre and shine that artists attempted to achieve in marble by means of paint and precious stones was an inherent quality of burnished metal.215 An imperial image of gold or silver would most convincingly confer the supernatural qualities of the emperor.216 As Eusebius phrased it: οια θεου τις ουρανιος αγγελος , as a heavenly messenger from God (Vit.Const. III.10.3). Concluding remarks The multitude of imperial statues that crowned columns and bases in Constantinople, Rome and other cities must have left a strong impression on the ancient spectators. Most of these statues have, unfortunately, long since gone. In Constantinople, once the most densely statue-populated city, survive no statues of bronze or silver. Even marble is scarce: In addition to a reworked head of Constantine, the marble head from Beyazit, near Theodosius’ Forum is practically the only physical remains of a late antique imperial statue from the capital city. It is uncertain what the body of the Theodosian sculpture looked like, whether the emperor was seated or standing, and how he was originally attired, and whether or not the statue belonged to an imperial group. In fact, the Beyazit head cannot be associated with a textually attested monument. Moreover, since metal was preferred for imperial statues, it may be wondered what precise function the portrait from Beyazit had and whether it was set up indoors or outdoors. These uncertainties also make it difficult to suggest a polychromatic scheme: Should the Beyazit head be imagined gilded to mimic gilded bronzes (somewhat like a blown up version of the imperial image on a gold coin), or did it adhere to a specific polychromy style for marble? Unprovenanced statues are often presumed to stem from Constantinople, the assumption being that a large number of these works were brought westwards by the crusaders in 1204. Caution is, however, warranted, since imperial effigies were See Kiilerich, ‘Representing an Emperor’, 280; Kiilerich, Visual Dynamics, 188. Pentcheva, ‘The Performative Icon’; Pentcheva, ‘Moving Eyes’; Pentcheva, ‘Glittering Eyes’, discusses the liveliness and flickering shimmer of metal and multimedia icons. 216 This is common in most cultures, for instance, in the Ancient Near East, Winter, ‘Radiance as an Aesthetic Value’. 214 215 92 Fig. II. 24. Barletta emperor, detail of back (photo: author) erected in all parts of the empire. Less well-known sites, such as the abovementioned Dyrrachium in Albania, the birthplace of Emperor Anastasius, also boasted imperial monuments. Geographical variation is therefore another factor to consider. One may speculate whether the polychrome style of, for instance, Antioch and Ephesus differed from that of Constantinople and Thessaloniki, and whether statues erected in Rome adhered to another colour scheme than their eastern counterparts. Turning from the image per se to its context, an imperial statue was part of a grandiose display and was to be experienced in a monumental setting: When indoors as the Constantine colossus in the Basilica Nova, the polished marble surfaces of walls and floors enhanced the splendour of the image. When outdoors as the Constantine-Helios on the porphyry column in Constantinople and the column of Marcian, the imperial statue was elevated high above ground. The statues’ polymaterial features gained impact from the monumental context as a whole, whether they were elevated on tall bases and columns, or placed in golden waggons on top of triumphal arches. 93 Chapter Three: Colour as communication on official monuments When Emperor Constantius II made his entry into Rome in 357, he was seated in sole majesty on a golden wagon which was ‘gleaming with various precious stones, the mingled radiance of which seemed to throw a sort of shimmering light’ (Amm. Marc. 16.10.6: insidebat aureo solus ipse carpento, fulgenti claritudine lapidum variorum, quo micante lux quaedam misceri videbatur alterna). The author, the historian Ammianus Marcellinus, goes on to describe dragons woven of purple thread bound to the golden and jewelled tops of spears, with wide mouths open to the breeze and hence hissing as if roused by anger, and leaving their tails winding in the wind (16.10.7: purpureis subtegminibus texti, circumde dere dracones, hastarum aureis gemmatisque summitatibus illigati, hiato vasto perflabiles, et ideo velut ira perciti sibilantes, caudarum volumina relinquentes in ventum). He further notes the infantry marching in two lines; clad in shining breastplates, their shields and crests were gleaming with dazzling light (clipeatus atque cristatus, corusco lumine radians, nitidis loricis indutus, 16.10.8). Ammianus continues recording that among the infantry were the imposing ironclad cavalrymen who looked like statues polished by Praxiteles rather than men (sparsique cataphracti equites personati thoracum muniti tegminibus, et limbis ferries cincti, ut Praxiteles manu polita crederes simulacra, non viros).217 In addition to the many words denoting gleam and shimmer – aureo, fulgenti, claritudine, lux, aureis, gemmatis, lumine and radians – a colour note is included in the reference to the purple (purpureis) banners. The Arch of Constantine Ammianus’ description of the impressive spectacle echoes the adventus in 315 of Constantius’ father depicted on the east side of the Arch of Constantine in Rome. As in the adventus of 357, the sculpted scene includes both infantry and cavalry. The correspondence between image and text is down to details such as the dragons with gaping jaws, which let out a hissing sound when caught by the wind. These impressive insignia were entrusted to a magister draconum (FIG. III. 1).218 However, in contrast to the text that observes the splendour of the imperial adventus, in its colourless state, the relief on the triumphal arch is quite lacklustre. A main problem For text and English translation, see Ammianus Marcellinus with an English translation by John C. Rolfe, vol. I, LCL, Cambridge Mass. and London, 1982, p. 244-247. 218 L’Orange, Konstantinsbogen, discussed these banners; see also Speidel, ‘The Master of the Dragon Standards’. 217 94 Fig. III. 1. Arch of Constantine. Adventus with ‘purple dragons’ (photo: author) was to transfer a dynamic multisensory event, encompassing sight, sound and smell as well as movement, into a static medium. Because of its patchwork of old and new sculpture, respectively of second and fourth century date, the Arch of Constantine presents a somewhat disjointed design, a stylistic incongruity that has been subject to discussions among archaeologists and art historians.219 However, as argued by the present writer, the public monument is a distinct category that falls outside the domain of art in the strictest sense. The visual expression is conditioned by the images’ usefulness for communication and their ability to propagate political messages. Although the combination of works of different origin makes for a heterogeneous aesthetic, it is an aesthetic that can be explained by the fact that the arch was meant to function not unlike a monumental billboard. The old and new reliefs incorporated into the arch were not intended as art works to be appreciated for their aesthetic qualities: they were visual documents, whose primary function was to convey a political Among recent publications: Sande, ‘The Arch of Constantine: who saw what?’; Kiilerich, ‘Formal Shortcomings’; Popkin, ‘Symbiosis and Civil War’. Rose, ‘Reconsidering the Frieze’, argues that the main part of the frieze stems from a triumphal monument of Diocletian, 303, to which were added two new scenes with reference to Maxentius and Constantine. 219 95 message.220 The message being paramount, it can be held that the carving style of the historical frieze, which has been particularly debated, is a means to an end: simplification, symmetry, repetition and exaggeration are compositional tools. They are ‘super-stimuli’ and cues for attention that make it easier to grasp the message. The artistic qualities of the sculpture were therefore not the main point. At any rate, the reliefs cannot be fully appreciated when only one part of the visual expression, the carving, is preserved, whereas the equally important part, the painting, is missing. In his Spätrömische Kunstindustrie from 1901, Alois Riegl devoted some ten pages to analysing the formal aspects of the Constantinian arch, paying special attention to the narrative frieze. In spite of his attention to detail, Riegl did not entertain the possibility that the sculpture was painted: and so he discussed the visual aspects of the reliefs in a dichotomy of light and dark.221 In his seminal monograph on the monument, based on in situ study, Hans Peter L’Orange in 1939 ventured the opinion that the flat figures of the fourth-century reliefs merely served as the basis for paint. He explicitly stated: ‘We must take the original painting into account.’222 However, since he found that the relief did not furnish any concrete criteria for reconstructing specific colours, he left the question open. Although expressly acknowledging polychromy as an integral part of the work, L’Orange nevertheless discussed the stylistic aspects of the reliefs without concern for the difference paint would have made. We shall try to suggest some possibilities with regard to the polychromy of the monument. Visualising colour on the Arch of Constantine On the Arch, the narrative scenes that encircle the monument are undoubtedly influenced by triumphal paintings. They may actually be carved copies of paintings with tituli such as Profectio (Departure), Obsidio (Siege), Proelium (Battle), Adventus (Arrival), Adlocutio (Speech), Largitio (Distribution of coins). The great care with which details like weapons and standards are depicted proves that the paramount intention was to communicate a message. There should be no doubt about what was represented in the reliefs; it should be easy to perceive the visual information with regard to topography, prosopography and paraphernalia. The Profectio and the Adventus reliefs are laid out in much the same fashion; if it had not been for their relative positions in the narrative, it might have proved difficult to tell the one from the other, athough the Adventus scene contains more people, more festivitas and Kiilerich, ‘In Search of the Patron’, 8-9. Riegl, Spätrömische Kunstindustrie, 85-94; for his lack of interest in polychromy and colour, Kiilerich, ‘Riegl’s Concept’; Kiilerich, ‘Was Alois Riegl Colour Blind?’. 222 L’Orange, Konstantinsbogen, 193: ‘Wir müssen mit der einstigen Bemalung rechnen’. Ibid., ‘nur die zeichnerische Unterlage der Farbe’. ‘Einen Anhalt für die farbige Rekonstruktion bieten jedoch bei dem ständigen Wechsel des Technischen, vor allem der Anwendung des Bohres, nicht’. 220 221 96 Fig. III. 2. Adlocutio relief. Reconstruction of polychromy (author) moves at a faster pace. To further differentiate the two, it is imagineable that the colour scheme would have differed somewhat from that of the Profectio. As studies of visual communication have shown, too much information may lead to less visibility. In a relief, the figures must be easily separated from the background. Colour would have facilitated the reading of the narrative, and brought out the highlights of the imperial military campaign and festivities. In order to recall as far as possible the visual dynamics of the impressive imperial adventus, colour was required. The shining armour and the purple dragon-banners would have come to the fore by means of paint. An important detail like the ivy-leaves on the emperor’s triumphal wagon might have been picked out in green. In all reliefs, the emperor was easily identifiable from his larger size and imperial attire: a purple chlamys or a white and purple toga. Moreover, colour not only served to communicate the content and call attention to salient points, but enhanced the overall impact of the monument (FIG. III. 2). When painted, the reliefs of Victoriae and prisoners on the pedestals and the hovering Victoriae in the spandrels further underscored the triumphal aspect. As for chosen hues, Victories depicted on sarcophagi may furnish some clues. On the sarcophagus of Ulpia Domnina (Rome, Museo Nazionale Romano, Terme di Diocleziano), originally made around 160-180 AD, the remains of pigments, most judged to stem from a repainting around AD 250, have recently been reconstructed 97 Fig. III. 3. Arch of Constantine, Rome. Sol medallion (photo: author). digitally.223 Apparently the hovering Victories were dressed in dark red. Their skin parts were rosy pink and the hair dark reddish brown; the wings revealed areas of red on the long flight feathers and Egyptian blue on the short feathers. A chromatic scheme somewhat like this is possible for the Victories on the Arch. On the lateral faces of Constantine’s arch, one can imagine the medallions of Sun and Moon painted according to certain conventions (FIG. III. 3). The Sun is dressed in the long robe, xystus, of the charioteer, which was usually white (as can be seen, for instance, on Greek vase paintings). The mosaic in Tomb M, the Tomb of the Iulii in the Vatican Necropolis, ca 300, similarly shows Christ-Sol dressed in white, interspersed with a few gold tesserae, and with a darker cloak; his horses are white.224 Imagining the medallion of the arch painted, we can use these colours as points of reference. Taking a lead from the river gods represented in the two baptisteries at Ravenna, the personification of Oceanus in the tondo was plausibly clad in green. The figures may have been set against a blue ground. One might also envisage a golden surround – the background in Tomb M is yellow – but on the relief the golden effect turns out to be less salient than a deep blue (FIG. III. 4). 223 224 Siotto et al., ‘Ancient Polychromy’. Liverani and Spinola, The Vatican Necropoles, 114, 119, fig. on p. 115. 98 Fig. III. 4. Sol medallion. Reconstruction of colour (author) The painted sketch, although it provides only a general idea of a potential polychromy, lays bare the dynamic of the motif: the swirling cloak of the Sun, and not least the ascending horses with their sixteen legs in rapid motion. This chariot schema brings to mind the representation of multiple horse legs on the solidus that records Constantine’s apotheosis, 337-340.225 The slight overlapping of the frame by a shoe and a torch makes the figures stand out, a visual effect that could be stressed by colour. All in all, paint enhances the visibility of the image, making it easier for the viewer to comprehend the scene. Like the Hadrianic medallions, the medallions of Sun and Moon were originally surrounded by porphyry inlays, yet another chromatic accent. Although potential paint is lost, the lithic material of the Arch contains many coloristic elements: The inlays of red porphyry are still preserved in the background of two Hadrianic medallions on the north face; originally similar inlay decorated the south face. Green porphyry was probably used for a frieze under the cornice.226 The Paris, Bibliothèque national, Costantino il grande, 238, no. 57 (RIC VIII, 446f). Green porphyry: Pensabene and Panella, ‘Reimpiego e progettazione architettonica’, 19193. 225 226 99 giallo antico column shafts, which today have faded to greige, when new and burnished, had a light yellow sheen. The inscription on the attic was set in gilded bronze letters. It was important that it was both visible and legible. A high contrast improved legibility. Gilded letters seen against a blue ground were easier legible than for instance gilded letters on red. For monumental mosaic inscriptions in churches, blue ground is by far the most common. Remains of blue ground have also been attested in the sculpted dedicatory inscription in the Church of St Polyeuktos, Constantinople, ca 524-27. Based on this evidence, it can therefore be argued that the letters were set against a background painted blue.227 Another possibility is purple. Silvery white on purple ground is preserved in the monumental dedicatory inscription painted on the walls of the Tempietto Longobardo at Cividale, ca 750. This purple ground recalls the words in purple codices.228 Inscriptions, whether on small artefacts or on large monuments like triumphal arches, were part of a visual as well as a verbal display. Grapho means both to write and to draw. The image-makers accordingly took pains in forming and colouring the words that in various ways explained or expanded on the pictorial imagery. In ’The Rhetoric of the Image’, Roland Barthes distinguishes between anchorage, where the text elucidates the image, as in captions, and relay, where the text extends the meaning of the image.229 The dedicatory inscription on the Arch of Constantine is an example of anchorage, inasmuch as it explains the reason for the raising of the monument. A text lends authority to an object. In most monumental works, the inscription probably stood out in gilded bronze letters against a painted ground, as the visibility of the words was tantamount. Strangely the bilingual texts inscribed on Theodosius’ Obelisk base in Constantinople must have been merely outlined in paint, probably red minium.230 On this monument, the texts – which pace Barthes anchored the monument by explaining that the obelisk was raised in celebration of the vanquished tyrants and further expanded the meaning of the monument by introducing the subject of the mechanical bravura – are surprisingly feebly carved. Rather than a dedicatory inscription, the form may have been See Thunø, ‘Inscription and Divine Presence’; Thunø, ‘Inscriptions on Light and Splendor’, 149; Thunø, ‘The Power and Display of Writing’. Harrison, A Temple for Byzantium, col. pl. fig. 95; p. 84: ‘Traces of bright blue pigment survived in the background of the inscription of the arch with line 32. This colour survived also on several other pieces of sculpture, although all trace of other colours had disappeared.’ The Church of Sergius and Bacchus, ca 527/532, also had a colourful sculpted inscription, see Bardill, ‘The Date, Dedication, and Design’, with references. See further, Leatherbury, ‘Writing and Framing’. 228 Torp, Il Tempietto Longobardo, fig. on p. 11 and col. pl. 22. For gold or silver on purple parchment, see Burnam, ‘The Early Gold and Silver Manuscripts’. 229 Barthes,’The Rhetoric of the Image’, 38-41; cf. Kiilerich, ‘A che cosa serve un nome?: The Meaning of Name Inscriptions in Byzantine Art’. 230 See Kiilerich, Obelisk base, 25-29. 227 100 intended to mimic a different kind of text, as the words set within tabulae ansatae recall the wooden tablets carried in triumphal processions. Monuments had several functions, in addition to being a triumphal and honorary arch, the Constantinian monument also served as a gigantic statue base: it was presumably surmounted by a quadriga with a gilded (?) statue of the emperor, a mimetic visualisation of the imperial adventus. With gold, bronze, purple and green, yellow and plausibly blue in addition to multi-coloured painted narratives, the monument must originally have presented a vivid appearance. I shall not venture into a hypothetical reconstruction of an overall colour scheme for the arch. A particular problem concerns the second-century spolia. It is reasonable to assume that polychromy extended to the reused reliefs. Still, it is uncertain whether these reliefs preserved any original paint, or whether they were repainted to harmonise with the new reliefs. Moreover, it is debated whether the old reliefs stem from monumental contexts, or whether some of them came from storehouses and therefore may never have been in prior use and may not yet have been painted. The possibilities then include: monochrome spolia; spolia with original (or touched up) paint; and spolia onto which were applied new and possibly different colours. The visual qualities of the monument would to a large extent have depended on the chromatics of the spolia. As for repainting, it is worth recalling the repainting of the Ulpia Domnina sarcophagus, which thus incorporates both a second- and a third-century polychrome phase. Repainting, at times with different colours, was probably more common than present evidence suggests. Medieval sculptures sometimes reveal different colours when paint is renewed: for instance, a figure originally wearing blue, in a subsequent phase is dressed in red, to return to blue or maybe green a century later.231 This proves that colour in the ancient world was not fixed once and for all: it was a dynamic factor. As such it was potentially open to changes according to changing taste and preferences. Considering that a large monument in an outdoor setting was exposed to the weather, the question of how potential paint was applied and how often it had to be reapplied or touched up imposes.232 Should we imagine triumphal arches being repainted, say, every twenty years or so, or did the painters have access to a formula for a kind of weather-proof coating (something comparable, perhaps, to modern silicon-resin paint used for painting the exterior of houses)? It may be speculated at what point in time concern for renewing colour on the Arch of Constantine was lost. In the Middle Ages the structure was incorporated into the stronghold of the For a figure of the Virgin from a rood-screen in Strasbourg cathedral, ca 1250, scientific analysis has detected six repaintings, Delivré, ‘Les sculptures du jubé’. 232 In conversation Jan Stubbe Østergaard, 10 March 2017, stated that it is impossible to tell when a given work would have needed repainting, but he believed that the ancient painting methods presumably were more sophisticated than we can imagine. By advanced binding agents and polishing techniques the polychromy could attain a very high standard. Whether a work was repainted would have depended on its precise nature and function. 231 101 Frangopani. After a period of neglect, the monument became subject to aesthetic evaluation in the Renaissance. Raphael, who was in charge of the restoration of Roman monuments, found the sculptures feeble, without art or good design (‘sciocchissime, senza arte né disegno alcuno buono’). Similarly Vasari, observing that the early reliefs were of good quality, described the Victories and the small figures on the frieze as clumsy (‘goffi’).233 Neither Raphael nor Vasari mentioned colour. At any rate, the Arch was imagined coloured by some. Thus in Botticelli’s fresco The Punishment of Korah, 1480-1482, in the Sistine Chapel, an arch which clearly references the Constantinian monument is chryselephantine in gold and white, the gold letters of the unauthentic inscription standing out against a dark purple ground. A few years later, in 1492-94, Pinturicchio’s St Catherine debates the scholars of Alexandria, in the Borgia Apartments of the Vatican, depicts an arch with yellow columns and purple and blue ground.234 Whether these interpretations reflect preserved traces, a general awareness of ancient polychromy or are mere artistic imagination remains an open question. In later artistic representations, the Arch is mostly rendered without colour. The Arch of Galerius in Thessaloniki The Arch of Galerius in Thessaloniki was erected around 305 to celebrate Galerius’ triumph in 298 over the Sasanian Persians led by king Narses.235 It differs from the normal type of triumphal arch by being an octapylon. Three of the original eight pillars still stand. Each is densely covered with reliefs, depicting narratives arranged in four superposed registers. All reliefs glorify the Tetrachic emperors, their prowess in war and their imperial ideology. With this multitude of narratives and imagery, which would take several pages to thoroughly describe, colour must have been important both to clarify the overall action of a scene and to pick out details. To take a few examples: On the lower part of the Southern pillar envoys bring gifts to the Roman emperor from his Sasanian adversary. The items include exotic animals like panther and elephant, a textile, presumably made of silk, and a vase. The vase offered by the Persian would conceivably have been painted in yellow to illustrate a golden vessel, or perhaps gilded, as has been proposed for the menorah depicted on Cf. Kiilerich, Visual Dynamics, 152-153. See, for instance, Partridge, The Art of Renaissance Rome, fig. 77 and fig. 100. 235 The main publication is Laubscher, Galeriusbogens. However, the first monograph on the Arch was written in 1890 by a Danish archaeologist: Kinch, L’Arc de triomphe; cf. Kiilerich, ‘Karl Frederik Kinch’; further Kiilerich, ‘In Search of the Patron’, 6. 233 234 102 Fig. III. 5. Arch of Galerius. Detail of patterned silk (photo: Hjalmar Torp) Fig. III. 6. Mariamin mosaic, organ (photo: Wikiwand) 103 the Arch of Titus in Rome.236 The surface of the silk displays a chequered or lozenge pattern with a central rosette (FIG. III. 5).237 Silks were prestige objects, and their material qualities were best represented in full colour. The textile pattern of a chevron enclosing a rosette, now barely possible to make out, may have looked somewhat like the pattern on the cloth decorating the organ in the Musicians’ mosaic from Mariamin.238 In the mosaic, the organ stand is decked with a fine cloth with red rosettes set off against a green ground (FIG. III. 6). Fragments of woven textile, from Syria and elsewhere, preserve the same colours, which on the relief would have made it easier to appreciate the rich material. The Arch of Galerius makes prominent use of undercutting to separate figure from ground, but some significant details carved in low relief would have stood out most convincingly if painted.239 The arch has many examples of small images that provide subsidiary information on the main theme: In the sacrifice scene featuring Diocletian and Galerius, the altar reliefs depict Jupiter enthroned and Hercules. To make these images of divinities as visible as possible one must reckon with theirs having been painted. Other statues are present on a relief with the popular theme of the bringing of tribute to the emperor. The elephant-drawn wagon (carpentum) displays small figures: a male nude in an Alexander with the lance position and another nude male next to him (FIG. III. 7). Since the sculptors went out of their way to include these figures of statues with which local viewers were certainly familiar, the figures were obviously deemed significant. They were therefore hardly left merely in a feeble outline, but brightly coloured for easy visibility. A conclusive scene on the Thessalonian monument depicts a confrontation between the emperor and a high-ranking Persian, plausibly Narses (FIG. III. 8).240 Rendered in colour, the Greek and Persian costumes would have appeared more distinct and more gorgeous; using paint, the artists could record details on jewelled belts with precious stones, and highlight variant shield designs (such as Heracles with club in right hand, lion pelt in left on BII, 20) carved in low relief. All in all, coloured representations, not unlike large picture books, would have made a stronger impression and a greater appeal to the viewer. Incidentally, a recent find sustains the idea of polychromy. In Nicomedia, modern Izmit, Diocletian’s administrative capital in the East, remains of A daring reconstruction of the triumph of Titus relief on the Arch of Titus, which relies mainly on slight remains of yellow (to imitate gold) on the menorah, has been published by Fine, ‘Menorahs in Color’; Fine, ‘The Arch of Titus in Color’. 237 Laubscher, Galeriusbogens, 58-59: ‘…einen zusammengefalteten Stoff… Dieser ist mit grossen Rauten gemustert, die von schmalen, sich kreuzenden Streifen gebildet werden und mit einer Rosette in der Mitte geschmückt sind’. 238 Mariamin mosaic, cf. above notes 71-72. For other aspects of textiles, see the recent contribution by Leatherbury, ‘Textiles’. 239 Unless I have overlooked it, Laubscher’s thorough discussion of Galerius’ arch does not include the question of colour. 240 Laubscher, Galeriusbogens, 66. 236 104 Fig. III. 7. Arch of Galeius. Elephant-driven waggon (photo: author). a sculpted frieze, plausibly from an imperial complex, came to light under a modern building.241 The total length of the frieze, which contains sixty-six relief panels with both imperial and mythological themes, is estimated to be around 55 m. Of interest in our context is the surprisingly well preserved colour on part of the relief. The central relief block depicting an adventus scene shows two emperors embracing. They wear tunics with golden bands at shoulder, hem and wrist, red belts, red shoes and purple paludamenta. One emperor has red hair, the other a greyish brown, plausibly to distinguish senior and junior emperor. Of importance is further the dark red on the imperial carriage and its yellow wheels. Nor should we overlook the circumstance that the partly lost hovering Victories – like their counterparts on sarcophagi – had blue wings.242 A general idea of the possible chromatics of the Thessaloniki arch is also furnished by the Tetrarchic paintings from the imperial cult chamber in Luxor temple. Although the remains are fragmentary, the cleaning and conservation work Agtürk, ‘A New Tetrarchic Relief’; Agtürk, ‘Myth and Eponomy’; Abbe & Agtürk, ‘The New Corpus’; Agtürk, The Painted Tetrarchic Reliefs of Nicomedia. 242 Agtürk, ‘A New Tetrarchic Relief’, 417-420, figs. 3-4, 7-8. 241 105 Fig. III. 8. Arch of Galerius. Detail of emperor on horseback (photo: author) that took place between 2005 and 2008 revealed the pigments – lime-white, green earth, red and yellow ochre, yellow jarosite, artificial black, white and blue.243 There is evidence of a blue background in some areas. In the best preserved parts of the decorations, it was possible to detect the principles behind the manner of paint application. Of particular interest is the rendering of imperial purple in Diocletian’s cloak by means of purple alone or blue and violet to give the impression of shot silk.244 Fabrics and faces are carefully modelled bespeaking a totally different style from that of the official Tetrarchic sculpture in porphyry. Thus on the south wall, the yellow ochre and red-brown chlamydes of the magistrates are plastically modelled and surface textures varied. By means of yellow ochre and white an artist has succeeded in giving a golden shade to a belt buckle, while small white dots suggest embroidered or woven ornamentations on orbiculi.245 The watercolours made by J. G. Wilkinson soon after the discovery of the Luxor chamber in 1854 furnish important evidence and record many details that have faded since then. Wilkinson documents the emperors being dressed in purple and dignitaries wearing De Cesaris et al., ‘Conservation’. De Cesaris et al., ‘Conservation’, 93 and 94 with fig. 5.10. 245 De Cesaris et al., ‘Conservation’, fig. 5.8. 243 244 106 yellow cloaks with elaborate ornamental insignia and tunics with woven borders in black and white.246 The yellow ochre chlamys recalls that of the so-called Maximian (probably not an emperor) in the Great Hunt mosaic at Piazza Armerina. The emphasis on details in the Luxor paintings resounds with the detailing of the reliefs on the triumphal arch in Thessaloniki, the potential chromatic range of which may have been related. The Obelisk base in Constantinople In 1925, the British archaeologist Ormonde Maddock Dalton characterized the reliefs of the Obelisk base in Constantinople, ca 390, as ‘not so much the work of passive decadence as a means to a new end’.247 While the ‘new end’ may be difficult to define, at least the Obelisk base differs in several respects from the arches of Galerius and Constantine, not only in style but also in content. It is unique among triumphal monuments for not containing any martial imagery. In the upper zone of the northwest side, the four imperial persons, three augusti and one caesar, are enthroned in the kathisma flanked by magistrates and bodyguards; below them representatives of eastern and western ‘barbarian’ tribes kneel before the emperor. On the southwest side the emperors may be imagined watching the games in the hippodrome and on the northwest side observing the raising of the impressive obelisk, themes sculpted on the block below. On the southeast side, a change of scene has taken place: the triumphant emperor has stepped into the stama to present the crown to the victor (FIG. III. 9). A multitude of people, musicians and dancers accompany the festivities.248 On the lower block, inscriptions, in Latin on the southeast side, in Greek on the northwest side, boast of the successful erection of the obelisk. Noticeably, except for the reference to ‘extinctis tyrannis’, there is no indication that this is a triumphal monument. In like manner, the reliefs do not reveal that the monument was raised to celebrate the defeat of the former coemperor Maximus and his son Victor. There is no battle scene, no martial action, and the tyrants are significantly absent. For the general layout, one may compare Gregory Nazianzen’s description of some favoured motifs of imperial paintings, such as barbarians throwing themselves at the emperor’s feet (Or. Contra Iul. 4.1.80), and John Chrysostom’s noting the layout of imperial paintings with the emperor in the top zone, his trophies, victories and achievements in the lower zone (In inscr. altar. 1.3). In fact, the themes on the four sides of the upper block are iconographically and stylistically closer to court painting than to relief. As R. Bianchi Bandinelli put it, if we imagine these panels See Jones, ‘Wilkinson’s Documentation’, 160, fig. A.3; 164, fig. A.5. Dalton, East Christian Art, 192. 248 For the base, see Kiilerich, The Obelisk Base, and most recently, Omissi, ‘Damnatio Memoriae’, esp. 178-186. 246 247 107 Fig. III. 9. Obelisk base, Istanbul, SE-side (photo: author) transferred to paintings, we have exactly the panels of mosaics and icons. 249 It is therefore close at hand to imagine the reliefs being coloured. The soft, somewhat hesitant carving style of the Theodosian reliefs jars with the sharp precision of the hieroglyphs on the Egyptian obelisk, carved some two millennia earlier. While the sunken hieroglyphs form a clear outline against the ground, the late antique reliefs sculpted in a brittle marble tend to wither. Because of the weathering, it is difficult to fully appreciate the sculpture. However, by closer study, it is possible to discern some of the finer details of the reliefs, such as the precisely drawn dress folds and the outlines of delicately formed facial features. But something crucial is missing: colour. Visualising colour on the Obelisk base A characteristic feature of all four sides of the upper base is the representation of the imperial bodyguard. The young men are recognizable from their distinct pageboy hairstyle and their torques. According to Synesius of Cyrene, the guards were chosen for the splendour of their young manhood. They had golden curly locks and carried Bianchi Bandinelli, Roma: La fine dell’arte antica, 357: ‘se immaginiamo questi panneggi tradotti in pittura, abbiamo esattamente il panneggio dei mosaici e delle icone’. 249 108 Fig. III. 10. San Vitale, Ravenna, Justinian panel (photo: author) golden shields and golden spears (Synesius, De regno, 16-18, ca 400). On the southwest side of the Obelisk base, the shields have a prominent position in the very foreground, symbolically shielding the imperial house. These shields intend to convey a message, and yet they are strangely blank, devoid of imagery. The shields held by the bodyguards on Theodosius’ missorium, 388, show nonfigural ornamentation, originally rendered in dichrome gold alternating with silver.250 It seems however somewhat unlikely that, if we take the words of Synesius at face value, the guards on the base should be holding ‘golden shields’ as on the missorium. In the Notitia Dignitatum shield emblems of Nike/angel, lion, fox and many nonfigurative motifs are presented in strong colours such as red, blue, green and yellow.251 On a fragment from Theodosius’ triumphal column, erected at the Forum Tauri, ca 386, a soldier’s shield displays in low relief a large Chi-Rho emblem, See Sánchez Beltrán, ‘Las tecnicas’, in Almagro Gorbea (ed.), El Disco de Teodosio, 111-137, at 121-122. 251 For a comprehensive treatment with colour illustrations, see Neira Faleiro, La Notitia Dignitatum. 250 109 flanked by an alpha and an omega.252 In the Justinian mosaic panel in San Vitale, a green oval shield shows a golden Chi-Rho with blue (imitating sapphire) and green (imitating emerald) gems; a golden band with sapphires and emeralds encircles the shield (FIG. III. 10). The partly visible shield held by the guard behind is red.253 Combining the evidence of the column fragment and the mosaic, it is permissible to argue for the Chi-Rho as a possible painted emblem on the shields brandished by the guards on the Obelisk base. The Justinian panel provides the best illustration of colour. Since this mosaic in all likelihood was based on a Constantinopolitan prototype in the form of a court painting or mosaic, it reflects much the same aulic milieu as the Obelisk base. Although the mosaic post-dates the base with about one and a half century, being practically the only extant colour image of early Byzantine court fashion, the panel is important for analogy. Justinian’s bodyguards are dressed in multi-coloured attire: one in green with gold appliqué, another in red and bluish purple; all wear golden torcs and all have identical medium brown page-boy haircuts. It is close at hand to project colours like these onto the relief. As for the magistrates on the base, these are togati and chlamydati. White is the standard colour for togas and it is reasonable to assume a whitish hue. The Justinian panel displays the white chlamydes with purple insets of the high military officials. The garments worn by the soldier saints in the Rotunda at Thessaloniki, closer in time to the Obelisk base, comply in the main line with those worn by the military men at Ravenna.254 Only, their chlamydes are more exuberantly designed with silver-infused white instead of plain white and with larger tablia. In short, they furnish more detailed evidence with regard to polychromy and to poikilia in the combined sense of weaving, embroidery and multi-colour.255 In the Rotunda, two chlamydati are distinguished, being set apart for their purple cloaks.256 Minute variations in hue and setting patterns were employed in the Rotunda to indicate the different textures of the chlamydes. Shimmering purple silk was created by means of intricate settings of blue, red and orange, actually a polychrome rendering of a monochrome (purple) surface. Depending on the light that hit the surface, variant purple hues would emerge.257 It may be wondered whether the painters of sculpture shared this interest in subtle chromatic variation. At least, the evidence of the mosaics from Thessaloniki and Ravenna are of importance for reconstructing the The fragment was formerly built into the Beyazit hamam along with about a dozen other fragments, which have now been removed. The Chi-Rho emblems on the shields were for many years partly hidden by a modern concrete staircase. The emblem is visible on earlier photos, see Sodini, ‘Images sculptée’, 51, fig. 5; Omissi, ‘Damnatio Memoria’, fig. 5. 253 Publications include Deichmann, Ravenna I, 226-252; Deliyannis, Ravenna in Late Antiquity, 236-250; Dresken-Weiland, Die frühchristlichen Mosaiken with bibliography. 254 Torp, La Rotonde, pls. 18, 32, 36, 45. 255 For poikilia, see Grand-Clément, ‘Poikilia’. 256 Torp, La Rotonde, pls. 22, 48. 257 See Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’. 252 110 Fig. III. 11. Reconstruction of colour, SE-side, obelisk base (author) lost clothe colour on sculpture. White chlamydes with purple tablia, possibly a purple chlamys with a differently coloured tablion in the purplish range, or golden ochre as in the Tetrarchic paintings from Luxor, are the most likely. Embroidered decorations on the tunics may also have been painted, much as in the Justinian panel. The fibulae may have been highlighted in gold in order to give an impression of real gilded fibulae. It was especially important to draw attention to the prestigious pelta-decorated crossbow fibula. By means of paint it was easier to tell the rank of individual magistrates and perhaps even to identify specific dignitaries.258 Theodosius and his young co-emperors must have been portrayed in accordance with the prescription of court etiquette. We can therefore reckon with purple chlamydes, as worn by Justinian in the Ravenna mosaic.259 Colour, cut and design laid bare the difference between a fourth and a sixth-century emperor: Theodosius wore a more old-fashioned cut and design, with a lower-placed and larger tablion and plausibly his attire was more richly decorated, as evidenced by the imperial figures on the silver missorium.260 Kneeling tribute-bearers bring gifts to the emperors on the northwest side, a theme encountered also on the Arch of Galerius (cf. Pacatus, Pan. Lat. II, 12, 22, 5). From their garments it is apparent that one group represents the East, the other the For visibility, see Safran, ‘Points of View’. Changing fashions are discussed by Kiilerich, ‘Attire’. 260 Compare Kiilerich, ‘Representing an Emperor’. 258 259 111 West, stressing the cliché of the emperor as tote orbe victor. Rendered in colour the exotic Scythian caps, multi-coloured anaxyrides (somewhat like those worn by the Scythian archer from the Temple of Athena Aphaia on Aegina), bracae (leggings) and sheepskin coats came to the fore.261 The bowls imagined to contain gold coins would also have been more clearly visible if gilded or painted in yellow and white pigments to imitate gold. Facing the imperial kathisma, the southeast side can be regarded as the main side of the Obelisk base. Accordingly, there is reason to believe that the artists took special care in rendering the imagery there. The relief celebrates the ever-victorious emperor and his everlasting dynasty, as the Latin inscription on the block below has it: ‘Everything yields to Theodosius and his everlasting offspring’ (omnia Theodosio cedunt subolique perenni, CIL III 1873, no. 737). In victory celebrations, music was played and song and dances were performed in honour of the emperor. One can imagine the dancing girls performing in bright dresses, say red and green, or perhaps to comply with the circus factions: blue, green, red and white. The spectators gathered in the hippodrome may have stood out in contrasting hair- and clothe colours: a multitude of colours for a multitude of people. If the background of the relief was blue, the golden spears brandished by the bodyguards would stand out forcefully from the ground. In any event, the sculptural painters possibly aimed for a vivid spectacle.262 (Fig. III. 11) Whereas the upper block of the base displays Repräsentationsbilder, the lower block contains the inscriptions (SE, NW) and two narrative scenes (SW, NE). The narrative reliefs are carved in a different style than the reliefs of the upper block. Accordingly, for these reliefs the sculptural painters are likely to have employed a variant scheme. If colours are to be suggested for the Chariot race, it is close at hand to turn to late antique floor mosaics such as the circus mosaics from Piazza Armerina and Barcelona. The latter is set in the conventional four-colour scale of red, yellow, white and black, enriched with some blue and green, while the Sicilian mosaic clearly distinguishes the red (russata), white (albata), blue (veneta) and green (prasina) factions.263 On the Obelisk base, paint could serve to tell the factions apart and to distinguish the many small details – banners, whips, etc. – which today are difficult to make out due to weathering and to the loss of colour. Paint helped clarify what was going on, not least in the ‘instruction manual of how to raise an obelisk’. The raising of the obelisk was a feat of great importance in imperial propaganda. Both the Latin and the Greek inscription boast of the emperor having For the reconstruction of the Scythian archers leggings, see, e.g., Brinkmann, Bunte Götter, 108-110. 262 Kiilerich, Obelisk Base, 53-55, suggesting white, purple and scarlet garments, golden shields, lances and diadems; dark, medium and light hair. 263 See, e.g., Barral y Altet, Les mosaïques, 31-39, no. 6; Ciurca, I mosaici della villa ‘Erculia’, 2831, and for the Small circus mosaic, 86-87. 261 112 Fig. III. 12. Obelisk base, lower block, NE: the raising of the obelisk (photo: author) overcome the difficulties presented by the monolith. The emperor, or perhaps rather the prefect Proculus, who was in charge of the work, included an illustration of the mechanical enterprise (FIG. III. 12). This visual description shows pulleys, ropes and winches, workmen and overseers; it even includes some pseudo-hieroglyphs on the represented obelisk. In order to clarify all these details, colour would have strengthened the various elements of the narrative. A ‘model illustration’ is provided by the Vatican Vergil, ca 400 AD. In one picture (folium 13r), Aeneas and Achates find Carthage under construction (cf. Vergil, Aen. I. 418-29).264 The workmen are dressed in short white tunics with black clavi; the supervisors wear similar but longer tunics; some supervisors wear dark brown (purplish?) chlamydes to manifest their higher status. The winch is painted brown. Built structures are in white for marble, in brown for brickwork. A greenish hue indicates a common foreground/background or setting (FIG. III. 13). One can imagine a related presentation of the events on the lower part of the base. An important function of colour was to ‘spell out’, as it were, what was depicted on the base. But the main point of the Theodosian monument was not the releifs but the obelisk, an ancient Egyptian ruler symbol. As a spolium, re-erected in Constantinople, it became a potent symbol of the Theodosian dynasty. 265 And of course, in raising an obelisk, Theodosius exploited a symbolism that had been 264 265 Wright, The Vatican Vergil, colour photo on p. 21. Kiilerich, ‘Spolia in Byzantine Art and Architecture’, 48-49. 113 Fig. III. 13. Vatican Vergil, construction of Carthage (after Wright) exploited already by predecessors such as Augustus and Constantine.266 Thus, the message was sent through several channels: the obelisk, the inscriptions and the reliefs. Communication was paramount on the triumphal columns of Theodosius, ca 386394, and of his son Arcadius, ca 401-423, erected in New Rome in ‘imitation’ of those of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius in Old Rome.267 As anyone knows who has tried to follow the narrative on the triumphal columns of Trajan and Marcus Aurelius, this is highly demanding. Indeed, had it not been for photographs and the aid of publications, most would have been lost with regard to what is actually going on in the individual sections of the helical reliefs. It is possible to pick out the emperor in the crowd; marching soldiers, decapitated enemies and certain other events can be discerned even in an achrome state. Nevertheless, the message of a triumphal column was most effectively communicated in colour. The Freshfield drawings – in black and white – of Arcadius’ column, made in 1574 (some one-and-a-half century before the column in 1715 was demolished because of imminent danger of collapse), include a plethora of details: officials, Kiilerich, Obelisk Base, 22-24. For the colour of the two second-century columns in Rome, see del Monte, ‘Traces of Ancient Colour on Trajan’s Column’: traces of red on one of the emperor’s cloaks, yellowish orange on a tree trunk. In 1971 a cast was painted under the supervision of the archaeologist Ranuccio Bianchi Bandinelli for an Italian TV documentary on the column. 266 267 114 buildings and topographical features, equestrian statues, statues on bases and tall columns, other sculptures in niches. Such detailed visual description called for polychromy since colour made it easier to tell the rank of individual magistrates and officials.268 But since merely fragments of the two Constantinopolitan columns survive (Istanbul Archaeological Museum), it is futile to venture into a hypothetical reconstruction. Concluding remarks It must be stressed, again, that none of the official imperial monuments discussed above were intended as art works or created foremost with aesthetic appreciation in mind. Thus, the quality of the reliefs – sculpted and painted – was not the primary concern. Rather than art appreciation the imagery on the monuments was intended to evoke awe and even to some extent intimidate the viewer.269 In contrast to the modern viewer, the ancient one was not bombarded with a continual stream of visual images in all kinds of media. Thus it can be reckoned that the impact of a given visual manifestation was considerably stronger. Among other things, images had an important function in imperial propaganda and served a purpose in the endeavour to keep control in a vast empire. Thus potential hues must have been chosen with communication and persuasion in mind (try imagining the Arch of Constantine in subdued pastel colours!). Given that the carving styles of the arches of Galerius and Constantine and the Obelisk base differ, it is imaginable that their polychromy styles similarly differed. For instance, facing a few visual representations on the Obelisk base was less challenging than facing a multitude of disparate images on the Arch of Constantine. While on the base, the viewer’s gaze was easily directed to the emperors, the Arch called for some cues for attention – e.g. salient colour – to make the viewer zoom in on the emperor.270 On the structured but heavily loaded reliefs on Galerius’ Arch, colour would have relieved the potential tedium of images competing for the viewer’s attention. All three monuments share the theme of dominance. The Arch of Galerius signals the Roman emperor’s triumph over the Persian king of kings, a specific historical event. Dominance is shown by the emperor Galerius towering over a fallen enemy. The Arch of Constantine endeavours to visualize a civil war as if it were a great victory over a foreign enemy, a visual manipulation of historical facts. Dominance is expressed in the scene showing Constantine calmly watching Maxentius’ army drowning in the Tiber. The Obelisk base, somewhat obliquely, The drawings were first published by Freshfield, ‘Notes on a Vellum Album’ in 1922. Recent studies include: Konrad, ‘Beobachtungen’; Taddei, ‘La colonna di Arcadio’. From the column of Trajan to that of Marcus Aurelius and to those in Constantinople, the height of the windings was increased and the number of figures reduced. This was plausibly done to make the scenes more easily intelligible. 269 Cf. Kiilerich, ‘Formal Shortcomings’. 270 For a general discussion, see Duarte and Stefanakis, ‘The Use of Clues for Attention’. 268 115 stages another internal conflict, Theodosius’ battling of the usurpers Maximus and Victor, in terms of vanquishing an obelisk. Here the emperor is presented as victorious not in martial action, but by means of physical proof of strength: the vanquished obelisk, the symbol of the ruler’s power, can hardly be overlooked. In order to bring out the dominance aspect most fully, it may be wondered whether one colour was given particular prominence on the monuments. If this be the case, the hue that immediately springs to mind is red (erythros, kokkinos, phoinikeos). We noted the possibilities of the Victories on the Arch of Constantine wearing red, as attested for Victories on sarcophagus relief. The same hue was also proposed for the swirling draperies in the Sun medallion. Red is generally associated with dominance and aggression. Experiments have been conducted with regard to the effect of red in sport competitions. Although conclusive evidence is missing, some researchers claim that the team dressed in red is most likely to win.271 Today, a person dressed in red is seen as more aggressive than one dressed in blue or grey, as the red clothes increase perceived dominance.272 Among the many recent studies devoted to the colour, it was found that red elicits a dominant emotional and behavioural response.273 This is exactly what the imperial propagandist would have wanted. Since red stimuli are perceived as threatening and powerful, it could have been a highly effective hue for triumphal monuments; moreover in addition to aggression, purplish red had imperial connotation. As shall be further argued later, the red-purple range was possibly the most important in late antique polychromy. On the triumphal monuments, red was but one of several hues, and the viewers’ emotional response to the images would have been conditioned not so much by one specific colour as by the manner it was applied in combination with others and by the manner in which the chosen hues succeeded in catching and holding the viewers’ attention. Colour contrasts promoted attention. The size of a monument was the primary eye-catcher. But by applying paint, the artists, working to the specifications of the political commissions, could communicate specific and general messages more clearly. Furthermore, they could manipulate viewers by leading the eye to the most salient points of the images. The polychrome monuments were memorials cut in stone for (near) eternity as well as visual enactments of imperial presence. The stronger the colours were, the more potent was the visualisation of imperial power. Hackney, ‘Testoterone and Human Performance’; for a survey with reference to the many recent studies, see Elliott and Maier, ‘Color Psychology’, esp. 98-108. 272 Wiedeman, ‘Red Clothing increases perceived Dominance’. 273 Mentzel, ‘Emotionality of Colors’. 271 116 Chapter Four: The (lost) colour of Christian sculpture Many Christian motifs, such as the good shepherd and the orant, were fashioned in the tradition of pagan art (interpretatio christiana). Moreover, sculptures with Christian subjects were often produced by the very same ateliers that served patrons of pagan belief.274 Since the workshops of the third and fourth centuries catered to a clientele of various religious beliefs, the painters of sculpture presumably used the same pigments and applied paint in closely similar manner to their products notwithstanding the patrons’ religious affinities. This complicates the search for potential differences between Christian and ‘pagan’, or rather religious and secular polychromatic practices. It may be speculated whether the attitude to colour on religious sculpture differed in certain respects from the approach to colour on secular sculpture. For one, I submit that mosaic decorations in churches and other sacred buildings had a bearing on the attitude to polychromy on sculpture intended for Christian contexts. The mosaics set with tiny tesserae in a large variety of hues and nuances must have made artists in other fields more aware of optical phenomena, including the interaction and interdependence of light and colour. It is possible that the sophisticated optical blending witnessed in some mosaics influenced the painting of marble. What is more, from the reign of Constantine onwards the gold mosaics that came to decorate basilicas and other structures are likely to have led to chrysochromy being increasingly desired also for sculpture.275 This applies not only to imperial portraiture but also to other types of sculpture such as sarcophagi, which were produced in Constantinople, Ravenna and elsewhere until around 450. 276 Trying to recreate the lost polychromy and chrysochromy of Christian reliefs, images in mosaic may, by analogy, be used. There is actually evidence for mosaic as an alternative to sculpted relief: a loculus plaque from the Apronianus catacomb (Vatican museums) of late fourth century date stands out for its mosaic images: the story of Jonah and the Whale is outlined in red with rose and white tesserae for flesh, and green for vegetation; in keeping with the blue ground observed in some polychrome reliefs, the background is set in ultramarine. Most importantly, subtle inlays of golden tesserae enhance the effect of the coloured image (FIG. IV. 1 a-b).277 Brandenburg, ‘Osservazioni sulla fine; Kiilerich, ‘In Search of the Patron’. In his seminal study on polychromy, Patrik Reuterswärd, Studien zur Polychromie der Plastik, 237-238, pointed to the importance of gold in mosaics for the chromatics of sarcophagi. 276 See Brandenburg, ‘Osservazioni sulla fine della produzione’. 277 Costantino il grande, 301, no. 155 (Umberto Utro). 274 275 117 Fig. IV. 1a-b. Apronianus catacomb, loculus slab with mosaic decoration, Jonah being thrown to the whale and resting. Vatican Museums (photo: author) The colours of sarcophagi in Rome While extant colour is scarce on official monuments and portraiture, sarcophagi, placed in indoors settings (mausolea, underground burial chambers) were not subject to weathering to the same degree. They are therefore more likely to preserve pigments. A number of late antique sarcophagus reliefs from Rome preserve remains of paint and gilding. The study of their polychromy is far from new;278 but the 278 In 1932: Pietrogrande, ‘Sarcofago policromo.’ 118 advance in scientific methods has made it possible to detect more traces of pigments today than was possible a century ago.279 For the Annona sarcophagus (Rome, Museo Nazionale, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme), in addition to the red, dark red and gold visible to the naked eye, has now been attested Egyptian blue, white and variant reds.280 On a garland sarcophagus from Via Tiburtina, dating from around 300 (Copenhagen, Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek), scientific analysis has identified blue, yellow, green, purple and no less than three different red pigments. It must be noted that the opaque layer of gilt that covers much of the surface is modern, overlaying traces of the original gilding.281 Particularly well preserved are the colours of the so-called Polychrome panel in Rome (Museo Nazionale, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme), two relief fragments that probably stem from a sarcophagus front of the late third century.282 Still visible are gold, yellow ochre and green. Energy dispersion X-ray fluorescence (EDX) analysis of the panel has further traced remains of red, blue and violet.283 Gold was applied to the hair and garments and to certain objects. In fact, thin golden lines trace almost every fold to such an extent that gold can be perceived as the dominant hue, or one might say, luminance. For the Polychrome panel, the artists created variant golden hues by varying the adhesives used for fixing the gold: the adhesives range from violet to red and yellow. The practice is related to that of gold mosaics, where the hue could vary slightly depending on the colouring of the glass layers between which the metal leaf was sandwiched: the glass might have a neutral or slightly greenish or reddish tint. Use of different adhesives for sculptural painting proves that the artists had at their disposal a sophisticated chrysochromy technique. The golden hues combined with yellow, green, red, blue and violet resulted in a colourful surface. The ground of the Polychrome panel was left unpainted. A small Vatican sarcophagus with a pastoral scene, ca 300 AD, similarly had white ground, while the figures were picked out in yellow, red, blue and gilding. An orant’s eye-lashes were painted by means of a profusion of thin red lines (FIG. IV. 2a-b). Red served for outlining, while thin strokes of gold were lavishly applied to all surfaces of human figures, animals and shrubs.284 On this sarcophagus, the various colours are clearly Siotto, Nuove tecnologie per lo studio della policromia. See Siotto, ‘Digital Study and Web-based Documentation’. 281 Sargent, ‘Recent Investigation of the Polychromy’. 282 Sapelli, ‘La lastra policroma’, with colour plates 81, 85-88. 283 For detailed description of the colours (but not the pigments) found, see Pietrogrande, Appendice to Sapelli, ‘La lastra policroma’, 194-206. 284 See Liverani, ‘Osservazioni sulla policromia e la doratura’, 10-13; Liverani, ‘Late Antiquity’, 279, figs. 5-6, and 284-285 (Alessandro Vella). 279 280 119 Fig. IV. 2 a-b. Pastoral sarcophagus with remains of colour and gilding: Details of a. chest, Good Shepherd; b. lid. Vatican Museums (photo: author) 120 visible to the naked eye. Other reliefs retain less visible remains of paint.285 It is worth noting that the sarcophagi with polychrome reliefs are not large and impressive – quite on the contrary. Thus even patrons of what might be considered comparatively unassuming works wished to make the imagery as beautiful and luminous as possible.286 It is perhaps more surprising that except for the inscription outlined in red, the impressive sarcophagus of Junius Bassus from 359 shows no visible remains of polychromy.287 However, out of a thousand sarcophagus cases and fragments recorded from Rome and Ostia with nearly as many from the rest of Italy, France and North Africa, references to polychromy are mostly lacking. 288 Whether this means that most sarcophagi were actually unpainted, that traces of paint have disappeared or gone unnoticed, or have been wilfully overlooked stands to show. Geographical variations and local traditions must also be considered. When painted, it may be hypothesised that different iconographical themes differed not only in their sculptural style, but also in their polychromy; thus colour may have been applied differently in a detailed multi-figured narrative and in a symbolic scene. The polychromy of the Sarigüzel sarcophagus Turning from the West to the East, a different type of iconography than the multifigural narrative is encountered in the so-called Prinzensarkophag. Found in a secondary context in the Sarigüzel district of Istanbul, Müfid Mansel proposed that it came from the near-by imperial mausoleum situated by the Church of the Holy Apostles. Although difficult to prove, this is a not unreasonable proposition. 289 The iconography of the sarcophagus is simplified but highly significant. On each long side is sculpted a pair of hovering angels carrying a laurel wreath inscribed with a chrismon (FIG. IV. 3). Each short side contains two apostles flanking a large cross, one elderly bearded pair is undoubtedly Peter and Paul, while the other pair presents a young and a mature apostle. The schema of the angels derives from that of hovering Nikai/Victoriae supporting a medallion, a favoured theme in imperial iconography. It was represented, for instance, on the no-longer-extant reliefs of Arcadius’ column base. 285 Zluwa, ‘Hypothetische Farbgebung’, presents a reconstruction based on analogy with other sarcophagi and with the colours found in catacomb paintings. 286 For the problematic question of costs and production of sarcophagi, see Couzin, ‘The Christian Sarcophagus Population of Rome’. 287 Repertorium der christlich-antiken Sarkophage I, no. 680, p. 279-283; Malbon, The Iconography of the Sarcophagus of Iunius Bassus. 288 Repertorium der christlich-antiken Sarkophage I-III. 289 Length 1,50 m; height: 0,55 m; width 0,63 m. Mansel, Prinzensarkophag; Firatli, La sculpture, no. 81; Kiilerich, Classicism, 126-130; Kiilerich, ‘The Sarigüzel Sarcophagus’. 121 Fig. IV. 3. Sarigüzel sarcophagus. Istanbul Archaeological Museum (photo: author) The angel can be distinguished from the Victoria, inasmuch as the female figure wears a tunic belted below the breast, while the angel is dressed in male attire: an unbelted chiton and a flowing pallium. However, in the early stages of the angel iconography uncertainty with regard to gender may have reigned. At least on the drawings of Arcadius’ base, the garments suggest that Victories inhabit the east and south sides, while angels inhabit the west side.290 Had colour been preserved on the base, the artist who made the Freshfield drawings would have been in a better position to decide whether these figures were to be categorised as victories or angels. In the transitional phase, when the Nike gave way to the angel, colour would therefore have been an important means of distinguishing the Christian from the pagan messenger. The extraordinary sculpted finish, especially on what must have been intended as the front of the Sarigüzel sarcophagus, makes the high relief reminiscent of works by Thorvaldsen and Canova (FIG. IV. 4). As such, in accordance with a neo-classicistic aesthetic, paint could be believed to be subdued – even Canova 290 Kiilerich, Classicism, 61-62, fig. 34-36. 122 Fig. IV. 4. Sarigüzel sarcophagus. Detail of angel (photo: author) tinted his statues – if applied at all.291 As far as I have been able to tell by autopsy, there are no visible remains of colour on the Sarigüzel sarcophagus (some of my digital images show some dark blue below the curls along the neck and along the wing of one angel. Whether this could be the remains of a blue ground need to be substantiated by technical analysis). The heads of the two angels on one long side and those of two apostles on one short side are only sketchily carved. Potential lack of paint may therefore be due to the circumstance that the sarcophagus was not fully finished, so that it never reached the painting stage. In search for possible intended hues, it may be worthwhile to turn to angels with extant colour in order to find plausible models. While Victories could wear the martial red, as in the Ulpia Domnina sarcophagus mentioned in connection with the Arch of Constantine,292 as attested throughout the Middle Ages, white is the standard colour for angels. Thus, during restoration work of the sculptures of the Royal portal of the Cathedral at Bordeaux, ca 1240-1250, traces came to light of the original polychromy in the tympanum and 291 292 For Canova and colour see, Bindman, ‘Lost Surfaces’. Siotto et al., ‘Ancient Polychromy’. 123 Fig. IV. 5. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Detail of angel’s wing (photo: author) the archivolts.293 The pigments are lead white, ochre, red lead, cinnabar, azurite and carbon. Most angels have yellow hair, blue eyes, red lips and pink faces; the background of one angel is blue.294 On one angel was attested white garments lined in red with some blue on the mantel. The white tunic is a stable element in early Byzantine angel iconography. The four hovering angels that support the cosmic medallion in the cupola of the Rotunda in Thessaloniki furnish good parallels. Like the sarcophagus, the mosaics probably date from the late fourth century and artists from Constantinople probably made both.295 The angels wear white tunics with purple clavi and fine cuffbands set in silver and purple. The colour came about optically by means of blue, red and paler hues that, seen from a distance, blended to a purplish sheen.296 About a century later, the angels in the Archbishop’s chapel, Daniel et al., ‘Raman and SEM-EDX Analyses’; Schlicht et al.,‘Polychromie médiévale et photogrammétrie 3d’. 294 Daniel et al., ‘Raman and SEM-EDX Analyses’, fig. 3. 295 Torp, La Rotonde. For a brief overview of the mosaics and references to recent bibliography, see also Kiilerich and Torp, Rotunda; angels: fig. 38, 39, 41. 296 Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’, 56. 293 124 Sant’ Apollo Nuovo and San Vitale at Ravenna also wear white tunics with purple clavi. For the wings of angels and Victories, blue and red are the prevailing colours: On the Ulpia Domnina sarcophagus red with some blue dominates. The Tetrarchic Nicomedia relief displays Victoria’s wings as blue (cf. chap. 3). In the floor mosaic from the basilica at Aquileia the Christian Nike’s wings are delineated in shades of pale and greyish blue.297 It is therefore reasonable to assume a prevalence of blue in the wings of the Sarigüzel angels. The Rotunda mosaics present a delicate and intricate colour scheme, the hovering angels’ wings being set with shades of blue, from very pale to ultramarine, interspersed with red, and with some feathers standing out in predominantly reddish hues (FIG. IV. 5). To give the illusion of different types of feathers such as contour feathers and soft down, the tesserae are variously spaced and set either in parallel lines or unevenly.298 By means of colour, the artists modelled light and shade. The range of hues recalls Aristotle, or rather Ps.-Aristotle (Theophrastus?), who in his treatise on colour gives a fine description of birds’ wings: ‘When exposed to the light it has a purple tint (αλουργος). When less light strikes it, it is of that dark tint which men call orphnion (ορφνιον). When, however, the light is strong and mixed with black it becomes red (φοινικουν). But when it is light and shining as well it changes to a flame colour (φλογοειδες)’ (De coloribus II, 792a, 22-29). In the Rotunda at Thessaloniki, the glittering mosaics, under optimal lightening conditions, gave the impression of light striking shimmering feathers in motion. The wings of the angels hovering in the cupola are designed with impressionistic colour dots and the optical blending conveys an impression of gentle fluttering. In fact, the angels appear to be at an intermediate stage between motion and stillness.299 This particular effect is achieved by combining tesserae in a variety of hues and saturations, at places by introducing irregularity into a regular pattern, so that the eye finds it hard to rest and moves to and fro over the surface. In the Rotunda mosaics, the coloristic effect of the wings depends mainly on the juxtaposition of the variously coloured tesserae, the blending taking place in the eyes of the viewer. Aristotle was well aware of the phenomenon. He refers to optical blending, when he observes that ‘colours can mix by laying small areas of colour side by side’ (De sensu 439b 20ff; 440a 31ff). Ptolemy explains in his Optika, ca 150-175 Marini, I mosaici della basilica di Aquileia, colour plate 46-47. Torp, La Rotonde, 362: ‘Les ailes sont composes de tons bleus allant du bleu grisâtre à l’outremer et de tons violets, du clair au rougeâtre. Les couleurs sont disposés en rangées droits, régulièrement ordonnées, qui se suivent en travers des ailes, une sur deux dans des tons bleus, l’autre dans des tons violets. Les tesselles sont en outre agencées de sorte que les couleurs définissent la forme des ailes et des plumes, avec seulement un emploi limité de lignes de contour spécialement tracés en outremer et noir’. The wings are discussed in Kiilerich, ‘Optical Colour Blending’, 173-177; Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’, 5658. 299 See Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’; Torp, La Rotonde, 361. 297 298 125 Fig. IV. 6. Reconstruction of colour Sarigüzel sarcophagus, head of angel; cf. heads of two angels, Rotunda mosaics (reconstruction and photos author) the reason why the colours blend before our eye rather than being perceptible as two or more different hues: ‘because of distance […] the sight is not strong enough to perceive the parts individually’ (II.95). Ptolemy continues, ‘the individual angles which contains various colours, would be insensible, and it would appear, by the comprehension of parts that cannot be distinguished individually, that the perception of each of them is gathered into one perception, for the colour of the whole object will be unified and differ from that of the individual parts’ (II. 95, 610).300 Trying to transfer the chromatics of the Rotunda mosaics to the Sarigüzel sarcophagus proves difficult. For a sarcophagus, made for closer viewing than an ecclesiastical mosaic, the application of paint probably followed a different principle. As noted by Aristotle, in the passage cited above, colour could be juxtaposed, but it could also be blended or layered. So far, there is limited evidence of blending pigments in polychrome sculpture, whereas the layering of colour is attested on some sculptures (at times it is uncertain whether paint layers belong to one or several periods). For wings, the method of layering in combination with the juxtaposing of small elements of paint dots was suitable for bringing out the characteristics of the 300 Lejeune, L’Optique de Claude Ptolémée, 60; Gage, Colour and Meaning, 78-79. 126 Fig. IV. 7. Sarigüzel sarcophagus. Reconstruction of angel (author) various feathers in the plumage. In any event, based on the visual evidence one can reckon with combinations of blue, red and purplish hues to articulate the large wings. In the hypothetical colouring of the sarcophagus relief, the chrismon has been imagined golden and the laurel wreath green. The background may have been left white as in some Roman reliefs. If the background was painted, it was probably blue, as attested on western sarcophagi. Blue is also the background of, for instance, the ceiling paintings from the imperial (?) palace at Trier, ca 315-326 and the Riggisberg tapestry hanging with Old Testament scenes, ca 400.301 However, if we reckon with a strong blue dominance in the wings, one may wonder whether the ground was gilded, setting off the angels against a gold ground as in the Rotunda mosaics. In the hypothetical sketches illustrated here (FIG. IV. 6-7), the angels on the sarcophagus front are painted in colours inspired by those of the hovering figures in the Rotunda mosaics: dressed in white and with white hairbands, encircling curls in purplish, red and brown, and purplish (red and blue) wings set off against a gilded or blue ground. All in all, colour and gilding could enhance the beauty of the finely carved figures. A few other sarcophagi with the similar motif are preserved in Constantinople, but they are of decidedly lower quality.302 Although some high301 302 For Trier, see Rose, ‘The Trier Ceiling’. For the Hanging, see Kötsche, Die bemalte Behang. Firatli, La sculpture, nos. 82-83; Kiilerich, Classicism, 128-130. 127 ranking magistrate and court officials were in a position to commission a work like the Sarigüzel sarcophagus, it is quite likely, as proposed by Müfid Mansel, that the Prinzensarkophag was indeed intended for a member of the court. I have earlier argued that it served for the burial of Theodosius’ seven-year old daughter Pulcheria, who died around 385.303 This proposition tallies well with the stylistic date of the sarcophagus, by most scholars placed in the last quarter of the fourth century. Since imperial persons in the early Byzantine period were habitually buried in porphyry sarcophagi, it is obvious that a marble sarcophagus, as far as possible, should aim for an equal splendour plausibly with gilding as a prominent feature. At any rate, whether imperial or non-imperial, the high quality of the carving suggests a comparable high quality of the intended polychromy. The colour of sacred portraiture While sarcophagus reliefs are preserved in large numbers, sculpture in the round with Christian subject matter is rare, the seated Christ in the Palazzo Massimo and statuettes of the Good Shepherd being among the exceptions. Some bearded heads of late antique date may represent apostles or Christian sages, but found out of context their interpretation is often problematic and their identity uncertain. Since it is difficult to distinguish a Christian from a pagan sophos, they may equally well portray pagan philosophers.304 Four tondo busts from Constantinople definitely depict Christian subjects, as three of them carry codices with crosses; only one preserves his head. The tondi have been variously dated to the first half of the fifth century, or around 370. According to the latter thesis, the tondi represent apostles and decorated the mausoleum of Constantine at the Church of the Holy Apostles, rebuilt by the emperor Valens around 370.305 There are no visible traces of colour, but given the remains of paint on sarcophagi, it seems likely that tondi and threedimensional sculpture in religious contexts were similarly polychrome. It is tempting to make a hypothetical reconstruction of a potential polychromy based on the images of holy persons in mosaic. As noted above in the discussion of the angels on the Sarigüzel sarcophagus, it is obviously difficult to apply the chromatic vocabulary of the mosaic medium to a plastic marble surface; allowance must also be made for different viewing distances which would have had a bearing on how colour was put into operation. Yet the differentiated hues employed in the mosaics can to some extent be applied, for instance, to indiviual strands of sculpted hair. It is further possible to mimic the colours of eyes, mouth and skin. Kiilerich, ‘The Sarigüzel Sarcophagus’, 138. For an overview, see Creissen, ‘La place du décor sculpté; further Kiilerich, ‘The State of Early Christian Iconography’, at 110-114. 305 Firatli, La sculpture, nos. 36-39, evangelists, fifth century; apostles, ca 370: Nordenfalk, ‘The Apostolic Canon Tables’. 303 304 128 The apostles in the Orthodox baptistery at Ravenna are named by inscription and as such are presented as distinct individuals. While all saints are varied slightly with regard to colour and cut of hair and beard, the portrayal remains quite schematic. Named saints are also represented in San Vittore in Ciel d’oro in Milan. These mosaics, probably of late fifth century date, show the bishops Ambrosius and Maternus, and the saints Protasius, Gervasius, Felix and Navor.306 Gervasius is depicted as a young beardless man, the rest as elderly and bearded, highly schematic figures. However, when it comes to colour, in these as in the saints pictured in the baptisteries of Ravenna and Naples, as far as one can tell without recourse to closeup study, there is limited variation beyond that of hair in various shades of dark brown, white and grey. The most sophisticated employment of colour for saintly portrayal is encountered in the over-life-sized martyrs in the Rotunda at Thessaloniki.307 The fifteen extant holy men are named and characterized as individuals by means of different hairstyles and, for the older martyrs, variations in beard styles. Most importantly, the mosaic artists applied a very specific, non-naturalistic colour scale in which the brightness and saturation of the various hues are expressed almost like a sort of chromatic visual language. Hair colour In the Rotunda mosaics, the prevalent hair colour is various shades of purple or violet. Purple is generally understood to be closer to red and violet to be closer to blue.308 But neither word is a precise translation of porphyreos, halourgos or ostreion, or other Greek terms in the violet range. In the mosaics the actual physical substance (violet glass) is intended to stand for a chromatic effect (purple shine). This violetpurple, as we may call it, is used in hair, for eyes and for colour blocks in garments. It should be distinguished from optical purple (mixtures of blue and red tesserae, generally without violet), restricted to details in textiles and to angel wings (cf. fig. IV.5).The hair of the soldier Basiliskos is set in shades of orange, red and dark purple (FIG. IV. 8). He is the only ‘redhead’ among the extant saints. 306 Of recent contributions may be mentioned: Foletti, ‘Physiognomic Representations’. In spite of their schematic features, Foletti argues for a high degree of individualizing of the saints in the San Vittore in Ciel d’oro mosaics. For the fifth/sixth century holy bishops represented in arcosolia in the S. Gennaro catacombs, Naples, see Bisconti, ‘Napoli. Catacombe di S. Gennaro’. 307 See Torp, La Rotonde, 161-181. Further: Kiilerich,’ Optical Colour Blending’; Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’; Hatzaki, ‘Peacocks, Rainbows and Handsome Men’. For their identity, see Torp, ‘Interpretation’. For the date, see Torp, ‘Considerations.’ 308 For the special characteristics of purple, see Livingstone, Vision and Art, 30. 129 Fig. IV. 8. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Basiliskos (photo: author) 130 Fig. IV. 9. Rotunda. Thessaloniki. Leon (photo: author) Fig. IV. 10. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Therinos (photo: author) 131 The hair of four young soldier martyrs is set in yellow, orange, red and purple, subtly differentiated in colour combination and setting. The overall impression is that of ‘blond’ hair but there is quite some variation: In the Anonymous youth, yellow is the dominant hue (see Fig. IV, 22). Priskos’ pageboy cut displays a design in which yellow, orange and red are given equal emphasis, while purple is employed mainly in outlines. The curls of Leon’s Buckellochen (FIG. IV. 9) are set with yellow and orange, subtly outlined in purple, while red dominates at the top of his head. For Onesiphoros the yellow is confined to the front part of the locks, whereas sepia and purple make up most of the rest of the hair. Most of the saints have hair in various shades of purple to violet, with no yellow, orange or red tesserae. It ranges from the lightest tints to the darkest shades of violet (FIG. IV. 10). Given that their violet hair is interspersed with azure strands, the bearded martyrs A[…], Ananias (FIG. IV. 20) and Damianos (FIG. IV. 11) move towards the blue end of the scale. In the ‘blue’ group, three mature to elderly saints, Kosmas (FIG. IV. 12), Kyrillos and Philippos, show pale violet alternating with light blue hair and beard.309 Based on the dominant hair colour, the portraits can be placed on a perceptual scale of brightness from yellow, to red, to purple, to violet, to blue. A general pattern can be discerned: youths with yellow or purple infused hair, mature bearded individuals with darker violet and, finally, blue-light violet, which only applies to the eldest martyrs. The hair colour serves to distinguish young from mature and mature from old saints. It might seem close at hand to perceive the male figures as four fair-haired, one redhead, seven dark-haired and three white-haired individuals. However, had the artists intended to imitate natural hair, they could simply have chosen brown, black and grey tesserae. So, there is little doubt that the non-naturalistic colours have a different significance: the hair infused with yellow suggests golden light (just as yellow in the complexions indicates highlight). The red and orange is a deeper golden light, while the porphyreos hair is a shining purple.310 Finally, the hair tinted with a cold blue and pale violet suggests the light of a silvery moon. In connection with sculptural polychromy, the point of interest is whether some of the principles at play in the mosaics could also be applied – at least to some extent – to sculpted surfaces. Certainly, the mosaic artists’ exploration of colour with subtle variation in hue makes it likely that painters of sacred sculpture would similarly have aimed for chromatic variation. A detailed description of the colour of the tesserae, based on in situ observation from scaffolding in 1953, can be found in Torp, La Rotonde, 166-182. For a summary presentation, see Kiilerich, ‘Ideal Beauty’, 334-335. My digital photos taken in 2009 comply with Torp’s in situ observations. For technique, see also Torp, ‘La technique’. 310 For purple and shine, see Grand-Clément, ‘Gold and Purple’. 309 132 Fig. IV. 11. Rotunda, Thessloniki. Damian (author) Fig. IV. 12. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Kosmas (author) 133 Fig. IV. 13 Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Eukarpion. Saturation enhanced (author) Eye colour Most of the saints have dark eyebrows, yellow highlight, a red line in the crease of the upper eye-lid and black eyeliner along the upper demarcation of the eye. The sclerae are differentiated by means of the tinge of the limestone that varies from light greyish to white and pale blue (FIG. IV. 13-14). The blue is encountered already in Hellenistic art. Thus in the painted hunting frieze from the Tomb of Philip II at Vergina, ca 336 BC and in the paintings from the Aghios Athanasios tomb near Thessaloniki, ca 300 BC, blue has been observed in sclerae.311 A tiny female ivory head, similarly of Hellenistic date, discovered at Korinos in Macedonia, displays a blue sclera and a near-black iris (FIG. V. 15).312 The head has other points of agreement with the Rotunda eyes, thus the dark, near-black eyebrow and the red line in the crease of the eye-lid as well as the black eyeliner are characteristic of both the mosaics and the small ivory.313 Brecoulaki, ‘Greek Painting’, 230-231. Brecoulaki e.a., ‘A Microcosm of Colour and Shine’, blue sclera: fig. 10 on p. 15. 313 See Kiilerich and Torp, Rotunda, 54-55, for the Hellenistic character of the mosaic technique; Torp, La Rotonde, chap. XIV. 311 312 134 Fig. IV. 14. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Porphyrios’ ‘porphyrios’ eyes (photo: author) Fig. IV. 15. Korinos. Ivory statuette with polychrome eye (after Brecoulaki, Techne 2014) 135 Fig. IV. 16 Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Onesiphoros (photo: author) Three soldier-martyrs, Onesiphoros (FIG. IV. 16), Leon and Basiliskos (FIG. IV. 8-9) are blue-eyed, an uncommon eye colour in the Mediterranean area.314 Children are sometimes born with blue eyes that some months later turn into darker hues. Thus it is possible that the blue was meant to call attention to the youthfulness of these individuals. The coloured part of the eye, the iris, consists of two main layers: the epithelium at the back and the stroma at the front. Like hair and skin, the colour of the iris results from melanin. A brown iris contains both eumelanin and pheomelanin. Green and hazel eyes, which are a mixture of yellow and blue, contain mainly a small amount of pheomelanin. Blue eyes, however, contain little or no melanin at all. The appearance of the blue iris mainly results from the scattering of light in the stroma, known as the Tyndall or Raleigh scattering.315 The blue of the eye is not caused by a pigment but is a so-called structural colour. It is the density and structure of the stroma that influence the appearance of a blue iris.316 In a blue iris, the observed colour is the result of reflectance of light of shorter wavelengths by the iris pigment epithelium back through the stroma. Blue eyes therefore vary according to lighting conditions. Most significantly then, it can be claimed that blue eyes are not the result of colour (pigment) but of light. Worth noting is the blue (‘wasserblau’) eye of a Persian on the Alexander sarcophagus, see Brinkmann, ‘Die blauen Augen der perser’, 173 and fig. 282, at 167. The accompanying coloured drawing by F. Winter dates from 1912. The Persian’s blue iris is combined with red hair as in the case of Basiliskos. 315 Of the numerous scientific articles on the subject can be mentioned: Imesch et al., ‘The Color of the Human Eye’; Prota et al., ‘Characterization of Melanins’; Sturm and Larsson, ‘Genetics of human Iris Colour and Patterns’. 544-562. 316 Prota, ‘Characterization of Melanins’, 298; Imesch, ‘The Color of the Human Eye’, 122. 314 136 Fig. IV. 17 Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Anonymous (photo: author) In early Byzantine mosaics, blue eyes are found sporadically. Bishop Maximian in the San Vitale panel and St Andrew in the near-contemporary mosaic medallion from the intrados of the apse of the Panagia Kanakaria, Lythrankomi on Cyprus both have blue eyes. 317 In the sixth-century cathedral at Parenzo, the Virgin in the Annunciation has bluish eyes. The following eye colours are noted for female saints: four women show irises of yellow brick, one of grey-white stone; another has eyes of blue glass, while seven women have eyes of ginger or olive glass. 318 Since the artists at Parenzo presented these eyes of female holy persons in various pheomelanic hues, they may have intended to visualise the female saints with light and shiny eyes. Violet-purple is the dominant iris colour in the Rotunda portraits (set with violet tesserae) (FIG. IV. 13-14, 17). Violet is a most unusual iris hue. The colour can be caused by albinism, a lack of pigmentation that makes the eyes red or purplish. Eyes can also gain a purplish look due to damaged red blood vessels underlying a blue iris. Finally, violet/purple eyes may appear as a mutation, a baby born with blue eyes that turn purplish if the mother carries a certain mutation gene.319 Like blue eyes, violet eyes contain very low or no melanin; the colour results from a scattering of light: ‘… the red reflections interact with the small amount of blue, producing a violet color’.320 The saints’ distinctly violet (purple) eyes must, like blue eyes, be imagined to have been caused by light scattering rather than by iris pigmentation. Whether or not the artists were aware of this fact, there is a biological basis for the artistic interpretation of blue and purplish eyes as the more luminous ones, since these colours actually come about by means of light. Taking a lead from the name Porphyrios, his eyes – like his hair – was probably perceived as porphyreos, which in Michaelidis, Cypriot Mosaics, 118, fig. 68a. See Terry and Maguire, Dynamic Splendor, 86, pls. 76-78, 90-91, etc. 319 Sturm and Frudakis, ‘Eye Colour’. 320 See White and Rabago-Smith, ‘Genotype-phenotype Associations and Human Eye Color’, citation p. 5. 317 318 137 addition to being a hue means brilliant and gleaming.321 The iris of the eye shares its name with the rainbow that is often referred to as being porphyreos (πορφυρεος).322 Thus linguistically it was appropriate to depict a porphyreos iris that indicates both a brilliant rainbow and a shiny eye. The radiant body The Rotunda artists employed colour to distinguish various intensities of light in hair, eyes and complexion. The complexions vary but are generally comparatively light, a polychromatic ‘clue’ setting heavenly beings apart from terrestrial ones. The countenances are finely differentiated by limestone tesserae in tones of pale rose, infused with highlights of yellow glass. Late antique sources emphasize the glowing faces of holy men, whether terrestrial or in the beyond.323 The Visio Pauli, perhaps of late fourth-century date, describes faces that ‘shone like the sun’ and ‘shining forms’ (Visio Pauli 20; and 47).324 The saints’ garments alternate between white and purple: violet glass interspersed with yellow highlight is seen in colour blocks, optical purple – mixtures of red and blue at times with orange and black – are confined to specific details such as the tablia of the soldier martyrs’ chlamydes.325 The white chlamydes were originally interspersed with silver, which has now lost its lustre having turned into a matte almost black hue.326 It is therefore difficult to fully appreciate the light and shine that imbued the heavenly garments. Tesserae in yellow and lime (light greenish yellow) highlight the white paenulae of the civic saints (FIG. IV. 18). This feature is also present in the baptistery at Naples, where yellow enhances the luminosity of the saints’ white garments.327 In sculpted portrayals, a brilliant dress surface could be achieved with thin layers of silver and gold foil, or by juxtaposing various shades of white and by gilded strokes, as on some sarcophagi. Edgeworth, ‘Does purpureus mean ‘Bright’?’, argues that purpureus does not mean bright. For various aspects of purple and reference to earlier studies, see Bradley, Colour and Meaning, 189-211. 322 For the rainbow, see James, Light and Colour in Byzantine Art, 92-109; Kiilerich, ‘Chromatic Variation in Late Antique Rainbows’; for Latin texts, see Bradley, Colour and Meaning, 36-55. The purpureus arcus is bright-hued; see Bradley, 48 for different translations of arcus purpureus. In the Iliad (17.547), Homer compares a porphyra nephele, a ‘purple’ cloud, to the rainbow. 323 See Frank, Memory of the Eyes, 160-165. 324 Frank, Memory of the Eyes, 93-95. 325 For the garments and the artists’ two types of purple, see Kiilerich, ‘Colour, Light and Luminosity’. 326 Torp, La Rotonde, 73-75. 327 Ferri, I mosaici, pls. 28-31. 321 138 Fig. IV. 18. Rotunda. Kosmas (photo: Hjalmar Torp) 139 An apostle bust in colour Fig. IV. 19. Bust of apostle. Istanbul, Archaeological Museum. Reconstruction of potential colour (author) Applying the chromatics of the Rotunda mosaics to the apostle bust, the saint with the closest comparable hair- and beard style to that of the head in the tondo is the priest Ananias: short hair combed forward over the forehead, moustache and a short well-kempt beard (FIG. IV. 20). The original context of the tondo is unknown and the colours suggested here do not take lightening into regard (FIG. IV. 19). 140 Fig. IV. 20. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Ananias (photo: author) For the Apostle tondo we have used a chromatic scale related to that of the delicate colour combinations in Ananias’ portrait. The skin is set with tones of rose, especially numbers four and five, the darkest, in Torp’s assigned 0-5 grading.328 The upper lip is set in medium red, the fuller lower lip in red, orange and rose. The hair is made of blue alternating with violet; the beard of violet, sepia and beige; the moustache brownish violet and yellow. Eyebrows are composed of a dark violet/maroon. The eyes are violet. Here we may recall Plato’s discussion of polychromy in the Republic: ‘Suppose we were painting a statue, and someone criticized us for not using the most beautiful pigments (farmaka) for the most beautiful features of the statue, because the eyes which are the most beautiful part had not been painted purple (ostreio, the purple pigment produced by the murex) but black […] we could rightly answer: Do you want us to beautify the eyes so much that they do not look like eyes?’ (Rep. 4. 420c).329 Although dating back to classical Torp, La Rotonde, 175. Rouveret, ‘Les yeux pourpres’, 23 cites Plato, proposing that the murex colour ranging from ‘bleu-violet sombre au rouge’ is an expression of power and riches. Except for this reference, in spite of the title, the article is not concerned with eyes. The Plato passage is noted also in Kiilerich, ‘Picturing Ideal Beauty’, 334. Aristotle names as the most attractive colours purple (halourgon) and red (phoinikoun), De sensu 440a. 328 329 141 antiquity, Plato’s statement is of interest as a proof of the habit of painting statues and for its aesthetic evaluation of purple as the most beautiful colour. It is also important for showing the difference ascribed to the naturalistic ‘eye-like’ black or dark eye in contrast to the potential most beautiful eye that would not have looked like an eye. It was this most beautiful hue that served best for presenting sacred persons in mosaic – and perhaps also in late antique sculpture. The seated Christ in colour The seated Christ in Rome (Museo Nazionale, Palazzo Massimo) is one of the few early Christian sculptures in the round; in fact it has been proposed that it first formed part of a large sarcophagus and only later came to be placed on a chair and presented as a figure in the round.330 Purchased on the art market in 1914, its provenance and original context is uncertain. Whatever its function, the sculpture remains a fine example of plastic art from the later fourth century. In an attempt to put colour on the seated Christ, the youthful saints in the Rotunda may serve for comparison. This opens for two possibilities: either purplish hair as Porphyrios – compare the purplish brown of the Good Shepherd in Galla Placidia’s mausoleum – or, as seen in four soldier martyrs, golden hair in yellow, orange, red and purple, subtly differentiated in colour combination and design. In the Anonymous youth yellow is the dominant hue (FIG. IV. 22). The curls of Leon’s Buckellochen (FIG. IV. 23) are set with yellow and orange, while red dominates at the top of his head. The anonymous and Priskos have purple/violet eyes, while Leon and Onesiphoros stand apart for having blue eyes. An important difference between the mature and the youthful saints is the skin tone: the complexion of the latter is lighter: grades 1-2 dominate. I have applied the colours of the Anonymous and Leon in modified form to the Christ statuette (Fig. IV. 21). In sum: Given that it is sometimes difficult to tell whether a youthful head is to be understood in a Christian or non-Christian sense and whether a bearded head found out of context represents a pagan philosopher or a Christian saint, artists could have applied paint to sculpture in a manner that made it easier to distinguish pagan from Christian subjects. The chromatic scheme of figures in Christian mosaics presents a symbolic use of colour that differs in some respect from that of floor mosaics and paintings from secular contexts, the main characteristic being the stress on light and shine with a prevalence of purple. Accordingly, it may provide a ‘tool’ for distinguishing between secular and Christian sculptural polychromy. First major publication in 1929: Thulin, ‘Die Christus-statuette’; Donati & Gentili (ed.), Constantino il Grande, cat. no 149 (M. Sapelli). From a sarcophagus: Schumacher, ‘Die Christus-statuette’. Formerly in the Terme museum and known as the Terme Christ. 330 142 Fig. IV. 21. Seated Christ. Hypothetical reconstruction of colour (author) . 143 Fig. IV. 22. Rotunda, Anonymous (photo: author) Fig, IV. 23. Rotunda, Leon (photo: author) 144 Polychrome stucco figures Whereas we cannot establish any large-scale sculptures in marble or other stone with definite Christian content newly made in the centuries after ca 450, such figures were still produced in stucco. In fact, this medium may have been more common than current evidence bears out. Thus the plasmata that decorated the walls of the church of Gregory of Nazianzen’s father some time before 374 plausibly were works in stucco (Orationes XVIII.39). Under life size, full-length stucco prophets in high relief, some with remains of paint (whether all colour is antique is uncertain), remain in situ in the Orthodox baptistery at Ravenna. It has been debated whether this decoration dates from the phase of Bishop Neon, ca 458-478, or from the first baptistery built by Ursus ca 400. As demonstrated by Antonella Ranaldi in connection with renewed restaurations of the building 2006-2007, the evidence now suggests that the stuccoes belong to Ursus’ decoration.331 By far the most substantial large-scale images in stucco are preserved in the Tempietto Longobardo at Cividale del Friuli (Udine) in north-east Italy.332 In the palatine chapel, large stucco arches carved with intricate openwork vinescrolls frame painted lunettes (only one survives). The material is also used for floral ornaments enhanced with green glass and for friezes in low relief. Most importantly, attached to the upper part of the west wall of the chapel are six slightly over-life-size female figures. They can be identified as saintly women from the haloes that encircle their heads; moreover four of them wear crowns and carry crosses (FIG. IV. 24-25). Worked in high relief, the female saints look like statues with their backs against the wall. The composition may originally have comprised additional male or female saints with three on each of the adjacent walls. The choice of stucco for full-scale figures can be understood as a wish on the part of the commissioner to create, by means of a cheaper material, an impression of real marble sculpture. The Longobard Duke Aistulf conquered Ravenna in 751 and, if he commissioned the decoration of the chapel, the idea of including stucco figures and ornaments may stem from Neon’s baptistery and other Ravennate buildings. Moreover, polychrome relief sculpture, such as Ratchis’ altar, although carved in a different style, was within walking distance of the Tempietto.333 Pasquini, La decorazione a stucco in Italia, 26-37 (with reference to early colour reconstructions by C. Sangiorgi, Il battistero della Basilica Ursiana di Ravenna, Ravenna 1900); Ranaldi, ‘Novitati cede vetustas’, 11, 15-16. 332 L’Orange, La scultura in stucco e in pietra del Tempietto; Torp, Il tempietto longobardo; Kiilerich, ‘The Rhetoric of Materials’, 94-99; Kiilerich, ‘Colour and Context’; Kiilerich, ‘Texture, Colour and Surface Appearance’.. 333 For the reconstruction of the partially preserved polychromy of Ratchis’ altar (737-744), see Chinellato, L’ara di Ratchis a Cividale, and Chinellato, ‘Nuove acquisizioni’ with earlier bibliography. 331 145 Fig. IV. 24-25. Tempietto. Cividale del Friuli. Female saints in stucco (author) 146 Fig. IV. 26. Tempietto, Cividale. Remains of colour on female saint (photo: author) Except for some fainted red on the eyes and lips of two saints still visible at close range (FIG. IV. 26), the figures retain no visible traces of paint (when studied close up from scaffolding in 2010). By the mid-eighth century, the ancient marble sculpture that still survived had presumably lost most of its colour. One, rather unlikely, possibility is therefore that it was believed that sculpture was indeed uncoloured and that the stuccoes designed à l’antique mimicked this. Another possibility could be that they were chrysochrome rather than polychrome, that they followed an elegant dichromy in the style of chryselephantine statues. A third reductionist solution is that only the background was painted, for instance blue as in sculpted reliefs. Again, this is not fully convincing. In all likelihood, the stuccoes were polychrome.334 Figural stuccoes from various periods and geographical areas, such as the Sasanian Empire and Gandhara are normally polychrome, as are finds from early Medieval France.335 In the ninth century, Hrabanus Maurus describes stucco, the ‘plastic art’ as ‘to make figures and images of plaster on the wall and paint them with As presumed by L’Orange, La scultura in stucco e in pietra del Tempietto, 30; and Casadio, Perusini and Spadea, ‘Zur Stuckdekoration des ‘Tempietto Longobardo’. 335 See, e.g., Sapin et al., Le stucs de l’Antiquité tardive de Vouneuil-sous-Biard. 334 147 colour’ (‘plastice est parietum ex gypso effigies signaque exprimere, pingereque coloribus’, De Universo XXI, 8). Stucco is quite a dull material; close-up views of the figures and ornaments in the Tempietto reveal that the surface is greyish, grainy and uneven. Since even the finest marble sculpture was painted, the bland stucco is unlikely to have been left in its pristine state. Moreover, the women’s ears being pierced, it is apparent that they, like some antique marble statues, had separately inserted earrings. This polymaterial feature strongly suggests the presence of colour as well. The Cividale figures follow late antique iconographical types and the fashions of the Byzantine elite: elegant, wide-sleeved dalmatica with clavi and patterned borders, jewelled sashes and collars. The floral and geometric ornaments only lightly incised on the surface of the garments are difficult to see from a distance: in all likelihood, the incisions served as demarcation lines in a polychrome surface intended to give the impression of patterned multi-coloured textiles. As discussed in connection with the imperial portraits, pearls, sapphires, emeralds and other precious stones came to the fore when rendered in colour. Thus, the jewels of garments, crowns and crosses would have benefitted from paint. By means of paint, it was easier to differentiate the figures and especially to express the iconographic theme of holy women. Regarding the colours employed in the Tempietto, we have in earlier papers discussed various possibilities based on analogy (FIG. IV, 27).336 Holy women represented in paintings, mosaics and illuminated manuscripts provide pertinent information; for the ornaments of garments, preserved textiles are of importance. The paintings in the Tempietto are particularly significant since the Byzantine or Romano-Byzantine artists who made these paintings presumably were also in charge of potential sculptural polychromy.337 Thus, from the evidence of the paintings, red, reddish purple, blue, green and yellow ochre offer a plausible chromatic range.338 In addition, one can reckon with gilding of crosses and other insignia. A warm golden yellow is the preferred colour of the female saints in the Sa Susanna wall-painting fragments from Rome, plausibly dating from the late eighth century.339 Similarly, the long procession of holy women inserted into the nave of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna, some time around 560, depict all the female saints dressed in golden See Kiilerich, ‘The Rhetoric of Materials’, 94-99; Kiilerich, ‘Colour and Context’; Kiilerich, ‘Texture, Colour and Surface Appearance’. See also, Kiilerich, ‘The Polychromy of Longobard Stuccoes’ (poster), Exploring the Middle Ages, Bergen University, November 2015 https://uib.academia.edu/BenteKiilerich/Conferences; Percivaldi, ‘Il Tempietto degli meravigli’. 337 Torp, Il Tempietto longobardo. 338 For the paintings, see Torp, ‘Una Vergina Hodighitria’, and Torp, ‘Lo sfondo storicoiconografico dell’immagine di Cristo’. 339 Cecchelli and Andaloro, ‘Santa Susanna’, 641-645; further references in Kiilerich, ‘Colour and Context’, n. 56; see also ibid., 15, fig. 13. 336 148 Fig. IV. 27. Tempietto, Cividale. Reconstruction of colout on female saints (author). garments with slight variation in ornamental design (FIG. IV. 28). In the basilica at Parenzo, yellow, again, is the preferred hue for the holy women depicted as busts in medallions.340 It may be noted that in the mosaics at Parenzo, Istria, in the scene showing Mary visiting Elizabeth, the latter wears a distinctively lemon yellow (not gold tesserae) palla. This might serve to distinguish Elizabeth, John’s mother, from figures of a higher or more saintly rank. The small female servant standing in the doorway is dressed in emerald green.341 340 341 Terry and Maguire, Dynamic Splendor. See Prelog, Basilica of Euphrasius, pl. XXXVIII and XLII. 149 Fig. IV. 28. San Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna. Holy virgins (Wikimedia Commons) 150 Fig. IV. 29. Tempietto, Cividale. Hypothetical colours - purple version (author) Despite evidence for yellow garments in contemporary and earlier comparanda from Rome and Ravenna, the hypothetical nature of my reconstruction drawing is obvious, and in no way claims to reproduce the original characteristics of the figures. One can imagine also a purple garment (FIG. IV. 29) fashioned in the style of the dalmatic worn by the court lady next to Theodora in the San Vitale panel. Similarly with regard to crowns and jewellery, there are several possibilities (FIG. IV. 30).342 The Tempietto’s interior combines a variety of materials ranging from architectural spolia and imitation pieces (‘pseudo-spolia’) to Byzantine paintings, mosaics and stuccoes. Such an extravagant display of media was a visualisation When I presented colour reconstructions at a conference (L’VIII secolo. Un secolo inquieto, organized by Valentino Pace) at Cividale in December 2008, some members of the audience found the very thought of polychromy ridiculous. Similarly, at a conference in 2013 on a related theme, one participant remarked that the Tempietto stuccoes ‘were not covered in acrylic paint.’ Luca Villa, who was formerly sceptic, has now published a pastel-coloured reconstruction of the Tempietto’s polychromy: Villa, ‘La visione’. 342 151 Fig. IV. 30. Tempietto, Cividale. Hypothetical reconstruction of colours on crowns and jewellery (author) of power. In this ‘rhetoric of materials’ the Longobard ruling elite endeavoured to present itself in a Romano-Byzantine guise.343 Although the Tempietto is of later date than the other monuments under discussion here, the question of its polychromy is relevant in the search for chromatic principles in late antique sculpture. Based on the pigments in the Tempietto frescoes, yellow, red, reddish purple, blue and green were available for painting the sculptures. Concluding remarks The colours attested on early Christian reliefs are predominantly red and blue, followed by green and yellow/gold. On some sarcophagi are remains of variant red pigments, e.g., three different reds on the Via Tiburtina sarcophagus, suggesting a grading of hues. Furthermore, by juxtaposing or layering paint, by varying the 343 Kiilerich, ‘The Rhetoric of Materials’. 152 thickness of individual paint layers and by means of different binding agents different chromatic effects could be achieved. The chromatic range of Christian reliefs was further augmented by differently coloured adhesives, which gave variant tones and shades. Artists may have felt some ambivalence with regard to yellow, which is often supplanted by gold. To some extent, this may be due to difficulties in obtaining yellow pigments which were suited for painting on marble. Available yellow pigments were unstable and there were presumably no yellow pigments that were completely reliable before the twentieth century.344 Orpiment (auripigmentum or arrhenikon) is a naturally occurring mineral, a sulphide of arsenic, which has a strong golden colour. However, in addition to being highly poisonous, it tends to discolour.345 Alternative yellows included jarosite (Cyprian ochre, limonite ochre or hydroniumjarosite) which is attested for the Tetrarchic paintings at Luxor, and traces of mimetite have recently been recorded in paintings at Palmyra.346 Regardless, for those who could afford it, gold was the obvious alternative, as gilding gave a particularly brilliant surface. Moreover for Christian sculpture, gold carried a specific symbolic meaning.347 Given the cost, gold was often applied in thin strokes rather than for large areas: on the Vatican sarcophagus and the Polychrome panel, the artists applied gold in a graphic manner to highlight hair, woollen fleece and other areas. For large-scale sculpture, like the Tempietto stuccoes, to mimic the effect of the female saints in San Apollinare Nuovo, the yellow common ochre might have been enhanced by adding small areas of gold leaf to garments and perhaps to highlight the hair.348 See Kakoulli, Greek Painting Techniques, 51-54; St Clair, Secret Lives of Colour, 77. See St Clair, Secret Lives of Colour, 82-83; Coles, Chromatopia, 31. 346 Luxor: see De Cesaris et al, ‘Conservation’; Palmyra: Buisson, ‘The Tomb of the Three Brothers’; Brøns et al., ‘Palmyrene Polychromy’. 347 For the written testimony, see, e.g. Garnczarska, ‘Some Remarks on the Significance of Gold’. 348 For evidence of gold leaf in the hair of a Roman youth, see Østergaard & Nielsen, Transformations, 268. 344 345 153 Conclusion Basic hues and saliency The colours encountered most frequently and the hues we, based on comparison with other media (mosaics and painting), have proposed for our tentative reconstructions are close to the so-called unique or basic hues: red, blue, green and yellow, also known as the basic chromatics, the chromatic primaries and the focal colours.349 In opposition to the trichromatic Young-Helmholtz theory (red, blue, green), prevalent in the nineteenth century, the German physiologist Ewald Hering launched an opponent-process theory of colour.350 He argued that our sensations of colour are due to two different sets of opponent receptors: red-green and yellowblue; the third opponent pair is achromatic white and black. Thus, according to this theory, there are three pairs of unique sensory reactions, red-green, yellow-blue and black-white. But whereas black and white can blend to grey, the paired colours complement and oppose each other: red and green light do not blend, neither do yellow and blue light (it is a different matter with pigments where yellow and blue blend to green). After the late-nineteenth century, science has made advances in the study of opponent processes; to some extent it seems that the Young-Helmholtz and the Hering theories may be reconciled, thus Nobel prize-winner David Hubel concludes that ‘the Young-Helmholtz notions of color are correct at the receptor level; Hering’s opponent processes are correct for the subsequent stages in the visual pathway’.351 At any rate, the theories of how human beings perceive colour have turned out to be quite complex, and in addition to opponent cells, scientists have discovered double opponent cells which play a part in the processing of colour.352 It is open to discussion whether we have a biological predisposition for being attracted to specific colours, or whether the preference rises from our being accustomed to seeing certain colours more often than others. If one accepts red, green, yellow and blue as in some way unique, basic, fundamental or primary, there may be a neurophysiological basis for what has become a cultural preference for these (we find them today in the Microsoft and Google logos, and they are generally the most popular in advertising, in traffic signals, etc.). When subjects are asked to pick out four colours, most choose a blue (at wavelength 470 nm), a green (at wavelength 500), a yellow (wavelength 570) and a red with a little violet (wavelength 650).353 It is likely that the basic colours are favoured because of their saliency. See Regier, Kay, Cook, ‘Focal Colors are Universal after all.’ Hering, ‘Grundrisse einer Theorie des Farbensinnes’, 169-204, (cf. Hering, Outlines of a Theory of the Light Sense). 351 Hubel, Eyes, Brain, and Vision; cf. Livingstone, Vision and Art, 86: ‘both sides have turned out to be correct’. 352 Shapley and Hawken, ‘Color in the Cortex: Single- and Double-opponent Cells’. 353 Mueller and Rudolph, Light and Vision, 121-122. 349 350 154 Regretably, it is highly debated whether the primary hues are in fact more salient than others. Scientific studies have reached contradictory results and there is no consensus with regard to the primacy and saliency of the unique hues.354 As John Mollon states: ‘the four simple colors – red, green, yellow and blue – are a challenge to neuroscience, because no one has found cortical cells that represent color in terms of these “unique hues”’.355 Nevertheless, in antiquity as today the four colours red, blue, green, yellow were probably found to give the strongest visual impact. The perceived chromatic differences of Hering’s unique hues are larger than the perceived differences of intermediate hues.356 This would make these colours especially suited for visual communication (it is difficult to imagine traffic lights being brown, grey or pale pink). In addition to hue, saturation and luminance play important roles. Saturation (the purity of the colour) also has an impact on luminance or brightness, since stimuli that are more saturated (or pure) appear brighter than less saturated colours at the same luminance. Yellow generally looks brighter, and thus more saturated, than blue (cf. the yellow taxis and the lime-green ambulances). But the impact of the hue depends on various factors. Experiments have found that red and blue stimuli under certain conditions may actually appear brighter than yellow and green stimuli of the same luminance.357 Could this be one reason why red and blue are the most prevalent hues attested on ancient sculpture? It is difficult to correlate the contradictory results obtained in modern laboratories and the impact of colour as viewed in an antique environment with different lightning sources. The effect would depend, among other things, on the surrounding colour(s) and on lightning conditions. Thus, one may propose that the saliency of a given colour did not so much depend upon a particular hue as on the interplay of two or more. One can envisage, for instance, that for details on a marble building to be viewed in strong sunlight, red and blue would stand out from the surround more than yellow which would tend to blend in with the marble. For thin lines and small details, yellow would also have had limited effect on white, unless set off against a strongly contrasting surround, say dark blue. In a colour block, such as the garment of a statue, yellow would plausibly give stronger impact, especially if seen against a blue ground, as we proposed for the Tempietto saints. Green would have been most forceful with a red, rather than a blue surround. Through trial and error, the artists gradually achieved the most satisfactory results. In any event, in addition to visual appeal, various other factors including the cost and prestige of the pigments and their symbolic associations conditioned the choice of colour. See Pridmore, ‘Cone Photoreceptor Sensitivities and Unique Hue Chromatic Responses’; Wool, ‘Saliency of Unique Hues’. 355 Mollon, ‘A Neural Basis for Unique Hues?’ 356 See Kuehni, Shamay, Matheus, Keene, ‘Perceptual Prominence of Hering’s Chromatic Primaries’. 357 See Corney et al., ‘The Brightness of Colour’. 354 155 Mimetic, emphatic and symbolic polychromy modes The sculpting of figures in marble and the casting of statues in bronze came to an end in the Mediterranean area around the early seventh century. From then on, the evidence indicates that until the later Middle Ages statues were either reworked and reused or at rare occasions produced in stucco. Sculpted works of the fourth to sixth centuries are therefore important as the last cry of a visual and material tradition that for more than a millennium had been continuously present in the Greco-Roman world. Most importantly, this sculpted tradition was also a painted tradition. By drawing on the colours of images in other media, foremost mosaics and paintings, and by reference to written sources we have endeavoured to gain an idea of possible chromatic schemes and aesthetic preferences that may have governed the choice of colour and its manner of application in late antique sculptural polychromy. Colour was more than a conventional and aesthetic aspect of the sculpture: it served to attract the viewer’s eye to the image and to communicate a range of meanings relating to status, politics, ideology and religion. Depending on the messages that the images were intended to convey and on their function, colour communicated in various ways. By chromatic variation, the artists could make better intelligible the iconographic themes and their political and/or religious meanings, making it easier for the viewers to get the intended messages. According to the main functions, one may tentatively distinguish between mimetic, emphatic and symbolic modes, the first two being characteristic of sculptural polychromy, the third being characteristic of both polychromy and mosaics. In the mimetic mode, paint serves, as far as possible, to enhance the ‘naturalism’ of the image, to make it look more ‘lifelike’. Thus, a naturalistic colouring was presumably combined with a ‘naturalistic’ carving style. In the mimetic mode, a sculpture is conceived much like a three-dimensional painting, the colours chosen for the sculpted portrait being more or less the same as those chosen for a painted portrait. Still, it does not necessarily imply that the portrait copies the precise physical traits of the sitter. At times the artists may have followed social conventions in compliance with the written sources that prescribe colours for respectively male and female hair, and the association of specific hues with specific humours in the physiognomical tradition. Accordingly, the main point in mimetic portrayal is not necessarily that the image is lifelike in the sense of displaying a close physical resemblance to the sitter, but that the image looks convincing according to the semantic and social associations of the visual signs. The chosen colours also depended on the patron’s status and on current fashions. When choosing dress colours, certain hues were off-limit in real life as well as in private portraiture, as the best quality purple silk was reserved for members of the imperial house (Cod. Iust. 4.40,1; Cod. Theod. 10.21.3). Except for this, restrictions apparently were few. Written sources attest to a large array of precious colours. Since images in the private realm were intended for close viewing, the artists could apply paint in a manner that differed from that of the public monuments that were mainly viewed from a 156 distance. The mimetic modus is particularly well suited for comparatively small to life-sized images in private or semi-private settings and generally indoors rather than outdoors. For close-up view, artists could explore the potential of intricate dress patterns, subtle shading and minute detailing. With their idiosyncratic physiognomies and naturalistic sculpting style, the two mature couples from Thessaloniki and Stratonikeia are likely to have been painted mimetically, the rich colours of their garments serving to underline their place in the social hierarchy. Just as the sculpted styles of imperial and non-imperial portraits differ considerably, their paint styles would have differed. For the portrayal of emperors, a mimetic modus was in most instances inappropriate. Depending on whether the image was to be viewed close-up or from a distance, different strategies could be applied. One polychrome method was presumably related to that of wall painting. The Tetrarchic paintings in the Luxor temple provide an idea of how painters applied pigments to give garments a plastic texture by means of contrasting colour, combinations of fresco and secco technique and finally a graphic dot-technique for embroidery. Such techniques could be deployed also when painting sculpture in the round. In the marble head of a Theodosian emperor from Constantinople, the stylized delineation of the facial features, the strict symmetry of the archivolt of hair and the supernaturally enlarged eyes with inset pupils clearly indicate a different approach to representation than do the near contemporary non-imperial portrayals. Here the sculptural abstraction suggests a non-naturalistic painting style. The portraits of the emperor and his family required a polychromatic style that visualised the supernatural qualities of rulership. Imperial statues were generally over-life-size, in itself a superhuman trait. Contemporary sources stress the radiance of the emperor, a quality undoubtedly stressed in his statues as well. To a certain extent, the emperor’s visual manifestation takes over from the pagan gods aspects such as outsized stature, youthfulness and radiance. Most imperial statues were of burnished metal, gilded or silvered, their material and visual qualities embodying radiance and shine in order to indicate that the emperor appeared ‘like another shining sun’. In marble statues, the skin may even at times have been gilded. Emphasis was also put on the imperial insignia: the purple red diadem lined with white pearls set in gold. To further enhance the impact of the imperial image, jewels often took the form of inset stones, combining polychromy and polymateriality. A jewelled aesthetic thus characterises the imperial portraits. In addition to gold, the jewel colours, Pliny’s floridi – purple, blue, red and green – are prevalent, especially to mimic purple silk and precious stones like sapphire, ruby and emerald. A related aesthetic is found in religious ambiences: from the Church of Saint Polyeuktos in Constantinople, an imperial foundation enlarged by the princess Anicia Juliana in the early sixth century, stem marble columns with inlays in amethyst, green glass and thin strips of gold glass. The green glass clearly imitates emerald. A cheaper version of the inlaid style is represented by the remains of green glass in the stucco ornaments at Cividale. Polychromy, then, is not only a question of paint but includes various coloured materials: polymateriality. 157 Whereas the imperial statue, usually towering high on a column or on a tall base, was an immediately and easily identifiable sign of imperialness, the reliefs of triumphal arches and columns presented more complex narratives. In official monuments, it was of the utmost importance that the overall message of the monument was clear. The visibility of the most significant elements was therefore the main concern, whereas a minute rendering of details mattered less, the details being difficult to make out from a distance (and yet, the reliefs on the Arch of Constantine do include details such as arrows in headbands). Gilded lettering stood out most effectively from a dark blue or purple ground. Contrasting colours was a means to grab the viewers’ attention. In multi-figure scenes on large official monuments, colour served to distinguish emperor, court members, magistrates, common people, friends and foes. The Nicomedeia frieze, for instance, distinguished between senior and junior emperor by means of different hair colour. The emperor’s image and the signs associated with him had to be easily identifiable in the representative or narrative scenes in which he was the protagonist. There would, for instance, have been little point in depicting the Battle at Pons Milvius, if the viewers were unable to figure out what was happening in the picture. Emphasis was put on the imperial protagonist(s) and the highlights of the imperial deed. We may refer to this as the emphatic mode. Since the main point of an imperial narrative was to get a message across, it is quite possible that the painters at times dispensed with realism for the sake of clarity. For instance, exaggeration was an important attention-grapping device. In addition to the imperial purple, that signalled the emperor’s presence, we have argued here that the chromatic primaries, red and blue and to a lesser extent green and yellow, were preferred in official monuments for their saliency, since highly saturated, strong and contrasting hues make it easier to comprehend what is represented. Especially the martial red associated with power and aggression is proposed as a strong visual clue. Blue, the conventional hue for background in painted reliefs, probably still served this role. Since a monumental arch or column was generally viewed from a distance, as on a modern billboard, colours had to be salient and contrasting to catch the eye. The basic hues or chromatic primaries – red, blue, green, yellow – are prevalent on the comparatively few early Christian reliefs with remains of paint. In some reliefs, e.g., the Polychrome panel in Rome, variation was created by using two or three different reds and by varying the adhesives for gold leaf resulting in different golden shades. Gold was also used for tracing. Thus, in spite of what might seem a somewhat restricted palette, the overall result was undoubtedly much more nuanced than present evidence bears out. As Aristotle noted, pigments could either be blended or superimposed or placed close to each other and blend optically – the possibilities were several. Although most sarcophagi are by now achrome – and it would be a mistake to believe that each and every relief was indeed painted – polychromy was an important way to communicate the Christian thought-world, and not least to characterise images of Christ. For instance, on colourless sarcophagi depicting miracle scenes, Christ often differs but slightly from his disciples. 158 Depending on whether the artists intended him to blend in with the surroundings or stand out, paint could be a distinguishing feature: Christ was more conspicuous, if his garments and hair differed in colour from those of his companions. Paint and gilding were symbolic means by which to visualize important aspects of his person. In decorations of sacred ambiences, such as churches and baptisteries, the mosaic material intended to visualize the immaterial, transcendental quality of the beyond. Thus the main difference between the portrayal of real people – as represented by the sculpted portraits – and the portrayal of sacred faces – as represented by the martyrs in the Rotunda mosaics at Thessaloniki – is the approach to colour. By means of colour, artists were able to distinguish between celestial and terrestrial forms. Although their faces are individualized and, like those of the near contemporary marble busts from Thessaloniki, clearly belong within the GrecoRoman portrait tradition, the Rotunda martyrs are visualised in other chromatic guise. The saints’ eyes are predominantly purple (porphyreos), a hue that evokes shine. Their hair, ranging from yellow, through red, to shades of purple and, at the other end of the scale, pale silvery blue, denote grades of celestial light. Colour had a dual function: on the one hand, it should visualise a person in his former role of, for instance, priest or soldier; on the other hand his terrestrial aspect was subservient to his saintly state. Colour therefore had to be employed in a symbolic manner in order to transform the earthly figure into a heavenly being. The stress was on luminosity rather than hue. We have argued that the growing importance of mosaics influenced the attitude to sculptural polychromy. While the pointillism of the tesselated technique is unlikely to have been reproduced directly on sculpture, some aspects of the method could be adapted. Optical blending might create the impression of iridescent silk in garments; the modelling of light and shade by gradations of hue could similarly be applied to the sculpted media. By means of polished paint layers, shiny metal and jewelled accessories artists could achive effects that made the sculpted works attain some of the luminosity of the golden mosaics. But the colours of mosaics and sculpture differ in several ways. So although the aesthetic aspects of mosaics provide a clue to an understanding of the visual characteristics of lost sculptural polychromy, the basic differences of the media should not be disregarded. The colour mode in sacred spaces was predominantly symbolic, and being concerned with spiritual values it aimed for negating the material properties of colour. 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Close-up of the female portrait, Thessaloniki, Archaeological Museum, inv. no. 1060 (photo: B. Kiilerich 2007). Fig. I. 4. The Musicians mosaic from Mariamin. Hama Archaeological Museum (photo: Wikimedia Dick Ossemann). Fig. I. 5. The Musicians mosaic from Mariamin, left side of panel (photo: Dick Ossemann, Wikimedia) Fig. I. 6. The Musicians mosaic, right side of panel (photo: Dick Ossemann, Wikimedia) Fig. I. 7. Detail of oxybaphon-player, Mariamin (photo: B. Kiilerich 1992) Fig. I. 8. San Vitale, Ravenna. Theodora panel (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). Fig. I. 9. Piazza Armerina mosaic, detail of domina (after Ciurca, I mosaici della villa ‘Erculia’, 33). Fig. I. 10. Villa de la Noheda, panel B Scheitelzopf (after Tévar, La villa romana de Noheda) Fig. I. 12. Musicians mosaic from Mariamin. Detail of kithara-player. Hama Archaeological Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 1992). Fig. I. 13. Pedrosa de la Vega (Palencia). Female bust in portrait medallion (photo: Diputacion Procincial Departamento de Cultura, Palencia). Fig. I. 14. Pedrosa de la Vega (Palencia). Male bust in portrait medallion (photo: Diputacion Procincial Departamento de Cultura, Palencia). Fig. I. 16. Male bust from Stratonikeia, Bodrum Castle Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 1993). Fig. I. 17. Female bust from Stratonikeia, Bodrum Castle Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 1993). Fig. I. 14. Parmigianino, Turkish Slave. Parma, Galleria Nazionale, inv. no. 1147 (photo: museum photo, Artegrafica Silva). Fig. II. 1. Remains of Constantine marble colossus. Rome. Museo Capitolino (photo: B. Kiilerich 2016). Fig. II. 2. Anicia Juliana, Vienna Dioscurides, fol. 6v. Österreichisches Nationalbibliotek, Vienna (photo: Wikimedia Commons) 193 Fig.. II. 3. Late antique statuette of empress, Paris, Cabinet des Médailles. Bibliothèque Nationale (photo: Bibliothèque Nationale, BNF). Fig. II. 5. Empress (?), Norwegian Institute in Rome. Detail of shoe (photo: B. Kiilerich 2016). Fig. II. 6. Late antique leather shoes with gold décor from Egypt. Athens. Byzantine and Christian Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). Fig. II. 7. Portrait of late antique empress ‘Ariadne’. Rome, Museo Capitolino (photo: B. Kiilerich 2016). Fig. II. 9. ‘Ariadne’ ivory. Florence, Museo del Bargello (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. II. 10. ‘Ariadne’ ivory. Detail of tablion (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. II. 12. Stilicho diptych. Monza, Duomo S. Giovanni Battista, Tesoro (photo: museum). Fig. II. 14. Late antique leather shoes with golden busts. Athens, Byzantine and Christian Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. II. 16. Two tetrarchs from Tetrarch statue group in porphyry. Venice, San Marco (photo: B. Kiilerich 2006). Fig. II. 17. Missorium of Theodosius, detail of emperor. Madrid, Real Academia de la Historia (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). Fig. II. 18. Missorium of Theodosius, detail of emperor, Arcadius (?). Madrid, Real Academia de la Historia (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). Fig. II. 19. Volubilis, Marocco. Detail of multi-coloured paludamentum (after Connaissance des arts, janvier 1970, p. 33). Fig. II. 20. Constantinian bronze colossus. Rome, Musei Capitolini (photo: B. Kiilerich 2016). Fig. II. 21. Late antique statue of emperor, so-called Barletta colossus. Barletta (photo: B. Kiilerich 2007). Fig. II. 24. Barletta colossus, detail of back (photo: B. Kiilerich 2007). Fig. III. 1. Arch of Constantine, Rome. Adventus scene with soldiers carrying ‘purple dragons’ (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. III. 3. Arch of Constantine, Rome. Sol medallion (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. III. 5. Arch of Galerius, Thessaloniki. Detail of patterned silk textile (photo: Hjalmar Torp 1977). Fig. III. 6. Musicians mosaic from Mariamin. Detail of organ and textile. Hama, Archaeological Museum (photo: Wikiwand). Fig. III. 7. Arch of Galerius, Thessaloniki. Relief showing waggon drawn by elephants (photo: B. Kiilerich 2011). Fig. III. 8. Arch of Galerius, Thessaloniki. Detail of Galerius on horseback (photo: B. Kiilerich 2011). Fig. III. 9. Obelisk base of Theodosius, Istanbul. South-east side (photo: B. Kiilerich 2008). Fig. III. 10. San Vitale, Ravenna. Justinian panel (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). 194 Fig. III. 12. Obelisk base, Istanbul. Lower block, north-east side, the raising of the obelisk (photo: B. Kiilerich 2008). Fig. III. 13. Vatican Vergil, folio 13r: Construction of Carthage. Musei Vaticani (after Wright, Vatican Vergil, p. 21). Fig. IV. 1 a-b. Apronianus catacomb, loculus plaque with mosaic decoration: story of Jonah and the whale. Musei Vaticani, inv. no. 31598 (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. IV. 2 a-b. Pastoral sarcophagus relief with remains of colour and gilding: Shepherd carrying ram; lid: harvest scene; from Tor Sapienza. Musei Vaticani inv. no. 31485 (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. IV. 3. Sarigüzel sarcophagus. Istanbul Archaeological Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 2011). Fig. IV. 4. Sarigüzel sarcophagus. Detail of angel. Istanbul Archaeological Museum (photo: B. Kiilerich 2011). Fig. IV. 5. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Cupola mosaics, detail of angel wing (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. IV. 6. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Heads of two angels (photo: B. Kiilerich 2013). Fig. IV. 8. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Basiliskos (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 9. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Leon (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 10. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Therinos (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 11. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Damian (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 12. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Kosmas (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 13. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Eukarpion’s purple eyes (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 14. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Porphyrios’ porphyry eyes (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 15. Small ivory head from Korinos, Macedonia, with remains of paint in the eye area (after Brecoulaki, Techne 2014, fig. 10). Fig. IV. 16. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Onesiphoros’ blue eyes (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 17. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Anonymous soldier with purple eyes (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 18. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Kosmas (photo: Hjalmar Torp). Fig. IV. 20. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Ananias (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 22. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Anonymous (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 23. Rotunda, Thessaloniki. Leon (photo: B. Kiilerich 2009). Fig. IV. 24. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Female saints in stucco (photo: B. Kiilerich 2008). Fig. IV. 26. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Detail of stucco saint with traces of original (?) colour (photo: B. Kiilerich 2010). Fig. IV. 28. San Apollinare Nuovo, Ravenna; Holy virgins (Wikimedia Commons) 195 List of colour reconstructions Fig. I. 11. Woman from Thessaloniki: Reconstruction of potential hair-colour. Thessaloniki, Archaeological Museum (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. I. 15. Colour reconstruction of male bust. Thessaloniki, Archaeological Museum (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. I. 19 a-f. Female portrait from Stratonikeia: Reconstruction of potential colours (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. I. 20. Male portrait from Stratonikeia: Reconstruction of potential colours (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. I. 21. Male portrait from Stratonikeia: Variant reconstruction of potential colours (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 4. Empress statuette, Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale: Reconstruction of potential colours (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 8. a-b. ‘Ariadne’ portrait: Reconstruction of colour and gilding (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 11. ‘Ariadne’ ivory. Reconstruction of colour and gilding on chlamys and tablion (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 13. Monza diptych; detail of Serena. Reconstruction of colour of garments and jewellery (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 15. Monza diptych. Reconstruction of purple and gold roundels on Stilicho’s garments (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 22. Barletta emperor. Reconstruction of potential gilding on hair and beard, silver sclera (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. II. 23. Barletta emperor. Reconstruction of potential gilding on hair and beard (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. III. 2. Arch of Constantine, Rome. Reconstruction of colour on central part of adlocutio relief (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. III. 4. Arch of Constantine, Rome. Reconstruction of colour on Sol medallion (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. III. 11. Obelisk base, Istanbul. Reconstruction of colour on central part of south-east side (colouring: author). Fig. IV. 6. Sarigüzel sarcophagus, Istanbul. Reconstruction of hair colour of angel (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 7. Sarigüzel sarcophagus, Istanbul. Reconstruction of colour on angel and chrismon (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 19. Bust of apostle, Istanbul Archaeological Museum. Reconstruction of potential colour (photo: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 21. Seated Christ. Rome, Museo Nazionale delle Terme al Palazzo Massimo Reconstruction of colour (colouring: B. Kiilerich) 196 Fig. IV. 25. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Reconstruction of colour on stucco saints and vinescroll (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 27. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Reconstruction of colour on female saints, yellow versions (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 29. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Reconstruction of colour, purple version (colouring: B. Kiilerich). Fig. IV. 30. Tempietto Longobardo, Cividale del Friuli. Reconstruction of colour on stucco saints’ crowns and jewellery (colouring: B. Kiilerich). 197 INDEX Achilles Tatius, 17 Aghios Athanasias, tomb painting, 134 Adamantius, 55 Aelia Eudochia, 59, 81 Aelia Eudoxia, 59, 81 Aelia Flacilla, 59 aesthetics, 15, 58, 66 agalma, 81 aiollo, 14, 15 albus, 10, 58 Alexander the Great, 104 Ambrose, Ambrosius, 81, 129 Ammianus Marcellinus, 94 Ananias, martyr, 132, 140, 141 Anastasius, 67, 68, 88, 89, 92 andrias, 81 Anicia Juliana, 60, 61, 66, 158 Anonymus Latinus, 25, 40, 43, 55 Antioch, 59, 81, 93 Aphrodisias, 25, 26, 46 Aquileia, 125 Ara Pacis, 5, 8 argentus, 10, 59, 81 argos, 14 argyros, 14 Ariadne, empress, 65, 67 Aristotle, 11, 125, 126, 159 armenium, 12, 78 Asterius of Amaseia, 33 Athena Aphaia, Aegina, 112 Athena Parthenos, 58 Augustus, 56, 92, 114 Augustus Prima Porta, 5, 8 austere colours, 12 Bordeaux, cathedral, 123 Botticelli, 102 Calendar of 354, 56 candidus, 10, 58 Canova, 122 Carthage, Dominus Julius mosaic, 34 Chalke, 81 Charlemagne, 87 charopos, 43 Chi-Rho, 109, 110 chroma/chros, 14, 45 chryselephantine, 58, 69, 102, 147 chrysochrome, 65, 69, 72, 117, 119, 147 chrysocolla, 78 cinnabaris, 12, 78 Cividale, Tempietto Longobardo, 100, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 151, 152, 158 Claudian, 77, 78 Codex Justinianus, 67, 157 Codex Theodosianus, 29, 157 Constantine, 56, 67, 92, 114 Constantius, 87 Copenhagen, Nationalmuseum, Emperor-Sol statuette, 86 Copenhagen Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek: Via Tiburtina sarcophagus, 119 Corinth, late antique male head, 24 crossbow fibula, 46, 55, 111 Damianos, martyr, 132, 133 Delphi, charioteer, 65 Delphi, ivory fragments, 69 diatreta, cage cups, 18 Didymoteicho, 82 Diocletian, 47, 78, 104, 106 Dionysos, 17 Dyrrachium, 89, 92 Barcelona, Circus mosaic, 112 Barletta colossus, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 93 Barthes, Roland, 100 Basiliskos, martyr, 129, 130, 136 blosura, 44 Bodrum Castle Museum: Female bust from Stratonikeia, 21, 46, 49, 50, 52 Male bust from Stratonikeia, 21, 46, 48, 53, 54 Edict of Diocletian, 47, 73, 78 EDXRF-analysis, 87 elephaistinos, 10 Egyptian blue, 6, 98, 119 eikon, 81 198 eikona siderou, 88 erythros, 116 Eucherius, 73 Eukarpion, martyr, 134 Eumelanin, 44, 136 Eunapius, 21, 24, 46, 55 Eusebius, 56, 92 Valentinian II, 25 Istanbul: Church of Holy Apostles, 121, 128 Column of Arcadius, 114, 121, 122 Column of Marcian, 89, 93 Column of Theodosius, 109, 114 Constantine-Helios statue, 86 Forum Tauri, equestrian statue, 92, 109 Hagia Sophia, 15 Obelisk base, 46, 100, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115 St Polyeuktos, 66, 100, 158 Fayum, 44, 45, 75 Felix, martyr, 129 Florence, Bargello museum Ariadne ivory, 69, 70, 71, 72 florid colours, 12 Freshfield drawings, 114, 122 John Chrysostome, 107 Julia Domna, 75 Jupiter, 57, 58, 79, 83, 104 Justin I, 72, 81 Justinian, 11, 109, 110, 111 galaktinos, 10 Galerius, 79, 102, 104, 115 Galla Placidia, 81 Gamzigrad, emperor portrait, 79 Gandhara, 117 Gervasius, martyr, 129 glaukos, 11, 17, 43, 44 glint in the eye, 44 gold, 19, 26, 27, 29, 30, 33, 46, 47, 56, 58, 60, 67, 72, 73, 77, 81, 82, 92, 94, 109, 110, 117, 119, 138, 153 Gothic cathedrals, 8 Gratian, 81 Gregory Nazianzen, 107, 145 Kenchreai, 19 kokkinos, 47, 116 Korinos, ivory head, 134, 135 Kosmas, martyr, 132, 133 kuanos, 14 Kyrillos, martyr, 132 lacteus, 10, 58 Lactantius, 81 lampros, 11, 14 Lausos, 58 Leon, martyr, 131, 312, 136, 142 leukos, 11, 14, 40 London, British Museum, Lycurgus cup, 15, 16, 17 L’Orange, Hans Peter, 96 Luxor, imperial cult chamber, 10, 105, 106, 107, 111, 153, 157 Lythrankomi, Panaghia Kanakaria, 137 halourges/halourgos, 11, 14, 129 Hercules, 79, 104 Hering, Ewald, 154, 155 Homer, 14 Homeric hymn to Apollo, 14 Honorius, 77, 81, 82 Hoxne treasure. Piperatorium, 82 Hrabanus Maurus, 147 Hubel, David, 154 magnocellular, 20 Malalas, 72 maphoria, 47, 73 Mariamin, Musicians mosaic (Hama), 27, 29, 31, 34, 38, 103, 104 marmaryge, 14, 15 marmoreus, 10 Maternus, martyr, 129 indicum, 12, 78 interpretatio christiana, 117 Istanbul Archaeological Museum: Apostle tondi, 128, 140, 141 Beyazit emperor, 65, 92 Sarigüzel sarcophagus, 121, 122, 123, 125, 126, 127, 128 199 Maximian, bishop, 137 Maximian, emperor, 107 Maximus, 107, 116 melas, 11, 40 Messene, late antique emperor statue, 59 metallochromy, 84, 89 metal thread, 33, 77 Milan, Museo archeol., Trivulzio cup, 18 Milan, San Vittore in Ciel d’oro, 129 minium, 12, 78, 100 Missorium of Theodosius, 83, 84, 109, 111 Monza diptych, 47, 73, 74, 75 motion, 14, 15, 19, 20, 99, 125 Philippos, martyr, 132 phoinikeos, 116 Physiognomonia latina, 40, 55 Piazza Armerina, 26, 30, 34, 35, 107, 112 Pinturicchio, 102 Plato, 14, 40, 141, 142 Pliny, 12, 58, 158 poikilia, 110 polymateriality, 9, 10, 59, 65, 84, 93, 148, 158 porphyreos/porphyroun, 11, 14, 29, 129, 132, 137,138, 159 porphyry, 78, 79, 81, 86, 93, 99, 106, 128 prasinorodinon, 17 Praxiteles, 94 Priene, Athena Polias, 50 Priskos, martyr, 132, 142 Proculus, prefect, 113 Protasius, martyr, 129 Ps.-Aristotle, 11, 14, 125 Ptolemy, Optika, 125, 126 Pulcheria, 82, 128 purpurissum, 12, 78 pyrros, 12 Naples, St Giovanni-in-Fonte, 19 Narses, 102, 104 Navor, martyr, 129 Neon, bishop, 145 Nicomedeia, Tetrarchic relief, 8, 104, 125 Nimrud ivories, 69 niveus, 10, 59 Noheda, Villa Romana, 30, 31, 34, 36 Notitia Dignitatum, 109 Odyssey, 14 Onesiphoros, martyr, 132, 136, 142 orphnion/orphninon, 10, 11, 125 Raleigh scattering, 136 Raphael, 102 Ratchis altar, 145 Ravenna, Archbishop’s palace, 124 Galla Placidia, 19, 81, 142 Orthodox baptistery, 129, 145 Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, 125, 148, 150, 153 San Vitale, 10, 11, 19, 20, 31, 32, 47, 50, 60, 67, 72, 75, 109, 110, 125, 137, 151 Riace A bronze statue, 65 Riegl, Alois, 96 Riggisberg tapestry, 127 Rome, Arch of Constantine, 8, 9, 86, 94, 95, 96, 98, 100, 101, 107, 108, 115, 116, 158 Rome, Arch of Septimius, 87 Rome, Arch of Titus, 104 Rome, Column of Marcus Aurelius, 114 Rome, Column of Trajan, 114 Rome, Lateran museum, Ariadne, 65, 67 Pacatus, 92, 111 Palmyra, 44, 153 Parmigianino, 50, 51 papyri, 33 Parenzo, mosaics, 137, 149 Paris, Cabinet des Médailles: Empress statuette, 59, 60, 62, 63 Paris, Louvre: Ariadne, 65 Theodosius II, 65 parvocellular, 20 Paulus Silentiarius, 15 Pausanias, 58 Pedrosa de la Vega, mosaic, 34, 39, 40, 41 phaios, 11, 12, 40 pheomelanin, 11, 136, 137 Phidias, Athena Parthenos, 58 Phidias, Olympic Zeus, 58 200 Rome, Musei Capitolini: Ariadne, 65, 66, 67, 73 Constantine, marble, 56, 57, 58, 59 Constantius, bronze, 87 Rome, Museo Naz Palazzo Massimo: Annona sarcophagus, 119 Christ statuette, 142, 143 Polychrome panel, 119, 153, 158 Rome, Norwegian Institute, statue, 60, 64 Rome, Primenia arcosolio, 47 Rome, Sa Maria Maggiore, 47, 50, 67 Rome, Sa Susanna paintings, 148 Rome, Ulpia Domnina sarcophagus, 97, 101,123, 125 Rome, Vatican: Tomb of the Iulii (M), 98 Rossano Gospels, 77, 82 Rubens vase, 17 104, 106, 111, 115 Thessaloniki, Archaeological Museum: Male portrait bust, 24, 40, 42 Female portrait bust, 24, 25, 26, 34, 37 Thessaloniki, East Cemetery, female burial, 33 Thessaloniki, Rotunda, 45, 110, 124, 125, 126, 127, 129, 134, 138, 140, 141, 142, 144, 159 Thorvaldsen, 122 Torp, Hjalmar, 45 Trier, ceiling paintings, 127 Tyche, 77 Tyndall scattering, 136 Tzath, 72 Ursus, bishop, 145 Valens, 128 Valentinian I, 81 Vasari, Giorgio Vatican museums: Apronianus catacomb relief, 117, 118 Junius Bassus sarcophagus (copy), 121 Sarcophagus with pastoral scenes, 119, 120 Vatican Vergil, 114 Venantius Fortunatus, 17 Venice, San Marco, tetrarchs, 79, 80 Vergina, Tomb of Philip II, ivories, 69, 134 Victor, usurper, 107, 116 Victoria, 97, 121, 122, 125 Vienna Dioscurides, 60, 61 Vienna, Kunsth. Museum: Ariadne head, 69, 72 Ariadne ivory, 69, 72 Visio Pauli, 138 Volubilis, fragment of paludamentum, 84, 85 Scheitelzopf, 25, 30, 34, 36 scutlatus, 29 Sekhemka, 79 Septimius Severus, 82 Serena, 47, 73, 75 Shoes, 60, 64, 77 Sidi Ghrib, 47 sigillata, 29 Silistra, 26, 34 silk, 29, 32, 33, 77 silver, 67, 81, 82, 83, 84, 89, 92, 109, 110, 124, 138 simulacrum, 81, 94 spolia, 101 statua, 81 stele, 59, 81, 82 stetharion, 82 Stilicho, 73, 74, 76, 77 stucco, 58, 145, 146, 147, 148, 149, 151, 152, 153, 154, 158 Suetonius, 92 Synesius of Cyrene, 108, 109 Syria, mosaic floors, 75 Theodora, empress, 31, 32, 47, 60, 67, 72 Theodoret of Cyrrhus, 21, 43, 44, 55 Theodosius I, 111, 112, 113, 116, 128 Theodosius II, 65 Thessaloniki, Arch of Galerius, 102, 103, What-system, 20 Where-system, 20 xanthos, 12, 14 Young-Helmholtz theory, 154 201 The author Bente Kiilerich is professor of art history at the University of Bergen and from 2021 serves as editor-in-chief of the open access journal CLARA – Classical Art and Archaeology (University of Oslo). She was born in Copenhagen, where she studied classical archaeology and art history at Copenhagen University (mag.art and dr.phil. degrees). Her research lies at the intersection of art, archaeology and aesthetics – from the Archaic Greek period, through late antiquity and Byzantium to classical inspiration in contemporary art and visual culture. Research interests include portraiture, mosaics, marble aesthetics, polychromy, colour, contemporary classicism and fashion. A former president of the Norwegian Committee for Byzantine Studies, she was elected a member of the Norwegian Academy of Science and Letters in 1998. Books: Græsk skulptur fra dædalisk til hellenistisk (Copenhagen: Gyldendal, eight editions from 1989 to 2007); Late Fourth-century Classicism in the Plastic Arts. Studies in the so-called Theodosian Renaissance (Odense UP 1993, dr.phil. dissertation), The Obelisk Base in Constantinople: Court Art and Imperial Ideology (Rome: Giorgio Bretschneider 1998); with Hjalmar Torp: Bilder og billedbruk i Bysants (Oslo: Cappelen, 1998), and The Rotunda in Thessaloniki and its Mosaics (Athens: Kapon, 2016: English and Greek Editions). Her first open access eBook: Visual Dynamics. Reflections on Late Antique Images, Bergen: 2015 is available from academia.edu and ResearchGate. Articles and reviews in Acta archaeologiam et artium historiam pertinentia, Acta Archaeologica, Acta Hyperborea, Analecta Romana, Antiquité tardive, Arte medievale, CLARA – classical art and archaeology, Classical Bulletin, Classical Review, Istanbuler Mitteilungen, Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum, Jahrbuch des deutschen archäologischen Instituts, Journal of Aesthetics and Art Criticism, Journal of Roman Archaeology, Kirke og Kultur, Klassisk Forum, Kunst og Kultur, Musiva & Sectilia, Opuscula Atheniensia, Papers and Monographs of the Norwegian Institute at Athens, Plekos, Polis, Proceedings of the Danish Institute at Athens, Sehepunkte, Speculum, Studies in Iconography, Symbolae Osloenses, Transactions of the Swedish Institute Istanbul. She has contributed to Eerdmans Encyclopedia of Early Christian Art and Archaeology, the Oxford Handbook of Byzantine Art and Architecture, conference proceedings and multi-author books and Festschrifts. https://uib.academia.edu/BenteKiilerich https://www.researchgate.net/profile/Bente-Kiilerich https://www.uib.no/persons/Bente.Knold.Kiilerich 202