The Art of Ancient Rome

World of Art
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The genius of Roman engineering and architecture was used to build an empire, while portrait sculpture exalted its rulers.
#renaissance #west #nietzsche
Rome began here, a cluster of little villages strung over these hills above
the marshy valley of the River Tiber. Founded according to legend in the 8th
century BC, at its heyday in the 2nd century AD, it ruled an empire whose
soldiers stood guard from the windy hills of Hadrian's Wall in Scotland to
the Persian Gulf, and whose merchants traveled as far afield as India and
China. The culmination and the unifying of the old cultures of the Mediterranean
world and Western Europe. From that day to this, Rome would be the greatest
single influence on the Western cultural tradition. Indeed, it could be said that
Rome is that tradition. It's not merely that Rome gave the West the Latin
language, Roman law, Roman ideas on statecraft, and on society. It was Rome
which passed on to the West the artistic, philosophical, and spiritual legacy of
ancient Greece, which Rome had conquered, looted, and then learned from. And it was
Rome which would be the agency of transmission to the West of an obscure
Near Eastern religious cult, which became the dynamic motive force in Western
society and spiritual life, Christianity. But Rome also gave the West a practical
legacy. It's a legacy which Western people see every day of their lives, from
Washington Square to Trafalgar Square. And that legacy lies in the realm of
architecture, civil engineering, building, town planning. These were the Roman arts
par excellence. And Roman thinkers came to view the goal of their empire as
providing a peace in which those arts could flourish. It was Caesar Augustus who
brought the first real peace to a Rome weary of continual war and internal
strife. In 13 BC, the Senate celebrated his triumphant return from Spain by
dedicating to him an altar of Augustan peace. On the outer walls is a sculpted
representation of that dedication ceremony, a procession of priests,
officials, and members of the imperial family. This is to Roman art what the
Parthenon frieze is to Greek art. A sense of order and serenity pervades the scene.
At the head of the procession, between his two consuls, is the damaged but
recognizable image of Augustus himself, dignified though not yet deified. All the
other figures are portraits too, such as Augustus' daughter Julia, later banished
for immoral conduct, and her first husband Augustus' minister Marcus Agrippa.
Other reliefs celebrate the joy and fertility of nature in this time of
peace. The universal harmony of the natural world is represented by the
full-breasted, reassuring figure of Mother Earth herself. The hundred-foot
high column commemorating Trajan's victory over the Dacians shows the force
required to keep the peace. Its unique spiral frieze tells of the discipline
and resourcefulness of the Roman legions, moving by sea, assembling to hear their
orders, building fortifications, raiding an enemy town, and crossing the Danube in
small boats. The army is shown to be an awesome fighting machine, but there is no
glorification of war itself, which is necessarily brutal and remorseless. The
victory column and the triumphal arch through which the returning army marched,
dragging slaves and spoils of war, were forceful forms of propaganda for the
righteousness of imperial power, guided by the Emperor, the Senate, and the people
of Rome. And it was the arch that was the basis of a revolutionary new architecture.
The post and lintel system of the ancient world was limited in the space it could
span and the weight it could bear. The Romans soon recognized the strength and
versatility of the arch and elaborated it into an art form of grandeur and utility.
Twenty miles from Rome, in the hill town of Palestrina, stand the remains of one of
the first great Roman building projects, the Sanctuary of Fortuna, the Goddess of
Fortune. Much of it was hidden until a World War II bombing raid sheared away
the later housing, revealing this gigantic conception. A series of seven
immense terraces, rising 400 feet up from the grotto below, where the fortune-telling
lots were cast for pilgrims, all the way up to a colonnaded rotunda on top, where
the 17th century palace of the Barberini now stands. And the whole complex was
aligned to look out over a breathtaking vista of plain and mountain, and with axial
symmetry, the sea framed by the foothills of the Apennines. Here, Roman architects
began to play with the new curvilinear forms, such as this graceful hemicycle
with its colonnade, supporting an annular barrel vault inset with coffers that were
once richly decorated. This amazing architecture was made possible by
something which, to us in the 20th century, seemed so commonplace it would
hardly deserve comment. Concrete. Concrete had been used before this time. A simple
mixture of three-part sand, one-part lime, broken stone, and water. But among its
problems for builders was that it dried very swiftly, so it could only really be
used for layering courses, never for building entire structures. But in the
first century BC, the Romans discovered the almost magical properties of a reddish
volcanic sand called pozzolana, which comes from Pozzuoli near Naples. Concrete
made with pozzolana has a very different quality. It's very strong. It can be used
in wet conditions. It dries slowly, so entire structures could be built, bonded
from top to bottom as one, even including domes. So this simple discovery marks a
revolution in Roman and in Western architecture. It made possible all the
greatness which would follow. At the height of its imperial power, Rome was a
sprawling city crowded with a million citizens and slaves. To keep them occupied,
there were public baths, race courses like the Circus Maximus, and the great
amphitheater decreed by the Emperor Vespasian in 75 AD.
With its massive facade of superimposed arches, the Colosseum seems to express in
stone the grandiose dreams of all empire builders. But it was a most functional
building, its gates numbered for ticket holders, its concentric vaulted corridors
designed to funnel 50,000 spectators to their seats with maximum efficiency.
Built of stone, brick, and concrete, the Colosseum's huge oval interior offered
every Roman an unobstructed view of the slaughter in the arena below. Arena being
the Latin word for the sand that covered the wooden floor and absorbed the blood.
Today, the Colosseum impresses us more as an amazing feat of architecture than as
a work of art, though it strongly influenced the design of both Renaissance
palaces and modern sports arenas. This three-dimensional scale model depicts
Rome in the fourth century, virtually at the end of its spectacular imperial
building program. Of all the great constructions throughout the Empire, one
stands above all others as the crowning achievement of Roman architecture, the
Pantheon. Fittingly, it is a work that expresses not the ugliness of our baser
instincts, but our sense of wonder about worlds beyond our own. Who built the
Pantheon and when was long a mystery. The Latin dedication tells us it was built
by Marcus Agrippa, Augustus' son-in-law and consul. This, it turned out, refers to
the first Pantheon on this site, a much more conventional temple. The answer
lay hidden for centuries in the brick facing of the Pantheon's 25-foot thick
concrete rotunda. Archaeologists had found that many Roman bricks were
stamped with the name of the consul in office when they were made. Almost all
the Pantheon's bricks were made around 120 AD, revealing that its builder was
the Emperor Hadrian, a man of passionately artistic sensibility and a
particular love for architecture. The Pantheon's rotunda and classical temple
porch have inspired more Western architecture than any other building.
Each massive column is carved from a single block of Egyptian granite and
topped by the flourishing acanthus leaves of the Corinthian order favored
by the Romans. Impressive though it is, it isn't the exterior that gives this
building its lofty place in Western art, but what lies behind its great bronze
doors. With its opening to the sky, this was the world's largest dome for more
than 18 centuries. 5,000 tons of carefully molded concrete stretching
across nearly 150 feet of space. The Greeks had created exteriors of exquisite
harmony. It was the Romans who gave the West the grandly conceived interior.
Now a church, this is the only major Roman building that survives intact.
Pantheon means temple of all the gods and their statues must have been placed
in these temple-like niches where Christian saints now stand, richly
decorated with colored marble brought by sea from quarries throughout the Empire.
Professor Richard Brilliant of Columbia University.
In the 5th century, when the barbarians took Rome, they entered this building to
despoil it of its treasures. The splendor of the interior stopped them in their
tracks and thus preserved this glorious structure, this magnificent space until
our own time. Space gives content and form to this great building. What we see
on the ground level is a great cylinder. The cylinder fuses or merges into the
hemispherical dome that lies upon it. That fusion is so complete because the
architect has shaped this interior both vertically and horizontally in such a
way as to suggest that the building interior contains a perfect form, that
perfect form known as the sphere. The paradox encountered in this structure is
that space, so ordinarily thought of as being defined by architecture, instead
defines architecture. The true substance of the building is space. As you can see
the coffers, meant solely to organize, to structure our visual experience, recede
towards the oculus, culminating in that passage, not an escape, but a kind of
communication between the interior space defined by this extraordinary building
and the space of the cosmos that lies beyond. That cosmos is perfection.
Perfection in the form of a sphere, a sphere which has no beginning and no end.
Pagan temple, Christian church, bold and original work of art, the Pantheon
remains a symbol of universal significance for all the ages. Hadrian's
restless intelligence was also at work in the immense and inspired villa
complex he built for himself near Tivoli. Like other emperors, he used the shaping
power of concrete and vaulted architecture to enclose space in
dramatic ways, to sculpt interiors that expanded rather than limited human
activity, with an echo here and there of his enduring masterwork. Everywhere in
the villa there were statues, many of them in the Greek tradition he so
passionately admired. In this, Hadrian was typical of well-to-do Romans
throughout the Imperial Age. Roman sculpture, it's such a rich subject. The
Romans, their artists, Roman patrons, delighted in the collection of sculpture
in the round. Sculpture which they displayed in their public places,
sculpture which they used to decorate the fora, palaces, gardens, variety of
situations. Sculpture which I may add they also put into museums, because
indeed the delight in works of art was something that gave enormous pleasure
both to the Romans and also to their friends. Indeed, it has become clear that
much of Greek art has in fact survived, not in originals, but in Roman copies,
much like the copies in this room in the Kaplan Museum in Rome. Such a
special work is this statue in marble from Hadrian's villa of a tormented
centaur. The statue in dark marble comes close to the bronze original of the
Hellenistic period, and one can see what effort the sculptors expended in
attempting to reproduce as closely as possible the ancient original. Hadrian,
who we must imagine collected this sculpture and enjoyed it, could
appreciate a certain moral content in the work itself. The centaur is
tormented by lust. At one time, now missing unfortunately, there was a Cupid
on his back. Cupid thrusting the arrows of sexual passion into the centaur, who
arms are bound behind him. The moral lesson to be derived from such a work,
and not just from the enjoyment of it, is to be found in the necessity of imposing
reason on passion. The Romans themselves live on in their vast legacy of portrait
sculpture. We have Marcus Aurelius as an idealistic young man, and as the weary
philosopher emperor who was to die on a lonely frontier. We have the portrait of
this aristocratic beauty of the Flavian period, whose slave girls must have been
constantly busy with the curling iron. And by contrast, the flaccid hair and
careworn expression of a woman in her declining years. Decius ruled an empire
more and more threatened by barbarians at its borders and by civil strife
within. Looking for scapegoats, he ordered the first systematic persecution
of Christians. A vision of the Christian cross was said to have inspired the
military victory of Constantine over his rival for the imperial crown in the year
312. This colossal head is a portrait not of Constantine the individual, but of his
divinely inspired power. The Senate honored him with the last triumphal arch
built in Rome. Nervous about Constantine's interest in Christianity, the senators
decorated it not only with new reliefs, but also with earlier works of Trajan,
Hadrian, and Marcus Aurelius, reminders of the glorious and pagan Roman tradition.
They reveal a remarkable change in Roman art. The dynamic compositions and ideally
proportioned bodies of the reliefs from the time of Hadrian, whose head has been
replaced by Constantine's, give way in the new reliefs to rows of puppet-like
figures, static and without identity. Squeezed together as if for security,
they seem to express the anxiety and authoritarianism of a troubled empire.
While his arch was still being built, Constantine legalized the practice of
Christianity. Its art could now rise from the darkness of the catacombs to celebrate
the son of God and his promise of life everlasting.
Junius Bassus, prefect of Rome, was baptized on his deathbed and buried in
this marble sarcophagus. A masterwork of early Christian art, it depicts the
expulsion of Adam and Eve, the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem, Daniel in the
lion's den, the arrest of St. Paul, and other scenes that have become icons of
the faith. The central figure is Christ, the giver of law, seated on the throne of
heaven, flanked by Peter and Paul. But elements of the pagan past remain.
Caelus, the Roman god of the skies, supports the floor of heaven. Christ
wears the robe of a Greek philosopher, and his beardless, youthful face bears
more than a passing resemblance to pagan images of Apollo.
The first great churches were variations of the Roman assembly hall known as a
basilica, with a central nave often ending in a semicircular apse, and side
aisles screened by colonnades. Santa Sabina, finished in 432, is a particularly
fine example of these simple but elegant early Christian basilicas. The Roman
arch appears here in yet another form, springing directly from the column
capitals. The insignia of the new Christianized Empire, whose capital is no
longer Rome but Constantinople, are placed with perhaps unconscious
symbolism atop the Corinthian columns taken from a pagan building. Once reviled
and persecuted, Christianity is triumphant. Historians have argued about
the causes of the fall of the Roman Empire ever since it happened, when St.
Augustine wrote that the Empire had been part of God's divine plan for the
furtherance of Christianity through the world, and that the Empire had now
fulfilled its historical purpose. Modern scholars have found political, material,
economic, social reasons for the decline, but have been most impressed by the great
spiritual crisis which swept through all classes of Roman society in the 4th
century, and is marked by the breakdown of the social, ethical, and religious
concepts which had bound the old classical worldview together. The Roman
Empire had brought to its rulers inconceivable wealth, as we can still see
today in its vast building projects, but the rights of individual people to moral
fulfillment had never been met. So the rise of Christianity, the superseding of
the great pagan temples of Rome, like this one of Antoninus Pius, by Christian
churches, marks a fundamental shift in the Western story into the inner life
towards personal salvation. The successors of the Roman Empire would be
the barbarians, Angles, Saxons, Franks, Goths, third world immigrants attracted to
the fading splendors as to a gold rush. They received the Latin language and the
Christian faith from Rome, and assimilated Roman ideas of government to
their own customary law. And there lies the key to the synthesis which will
become the Western tradition, a synthesis of Greco-Roman, Judeo-Christian, and
Germanic. And that synthesis would be achieved during the long struggles of
the Dark Ages, which followed on the fall of the Roman Empire.
