Art Eyewitness Book Review: Uncovering Antioch by Robert Kanigel

 

                       

Uncovering Antioch

By Robert Kanigel

Simon & Schuster/383 pages/$30

Reviewed by Ed Voves

The 1930's excavation of the ancient city of Antioch by archaeologists from Princeton University, with support of the French government, is one of the great success stories in the recovery of the material remains of antiquity. It is also an example of the proverb, "be careful what you wish for - you might get it."

When the Antioch expedition was first conceived in the late 1920's, excitement over the 1922 discovery of the tomb of King Tutankhamun was still high. Likewise, a joint British Museum/University of Pennsylvania expedition was conducting a "dig" of the ancient city of Ur, in southern Iraq. Fabulous artifacts, including some believed to be directly relevant to the Bible, were being unearthed. 

Antioch, located in Syria, was the Roman Empire's third city in size and importance. Though located in a fertile, climate-friendly region, Antioch was unknowingly built astride a geological fault line. It was devastated by a massive earthquake in 526. The citizens of Antioch rebuilt their beloved metropolis to some degree, but it never fully recovered. 

What treasures, buried by the killer quake, might lie under the ruins of Antioch?

The Princeton archaeologists certainly recovered phenomenal works of art during the eight years they spent at Antioch, 1932-39. But, as Robert Kanigel's compelling account of the excavations relates, these discoveries were overwhelmingly of one artistic genre. Moreover, it was a type of art which the Princeton scholars and their French colleagues had not expected to find, certainly not in the vast numbers which they discovered.

Mosaics ... Mosaics and, yet more, mosaics.

A 1932 photo from the Antioch excavations, showing clearing of the floor of a building known as the Atrium House. The mosaic, at left, is the Dancing Satyr, now in the collection of the Baltimore Museum of Art.

The Dancing Satyr Mosaic (left) before being removed from the Atrium House floor and, now, as it appears at the Baltimore Museum of Art.

The Princeton archaeologists unearthed entire mosaic floors, covered with intricate depictions of scenes from Greek mythology. Walkways and garden paths decorated with eye-dazzling geometric patterns. All composed of small fingernail-sized pieces of stone or glass, called tesserae.

The Dancing Satyr Mosaic from the Atrium House (detail) 

According to Kanigel, three hundred mosaics were excavated during the eight-year "dig" at Antioch. It was as if Goethe's poem,The Sorcerer's Apprentice, had come true. The Princeton team kept digging, the mosaics kept appearing. Local landowners raised the rental fees for the fields surveyed as likely sites for new discoveries... and the "dig" resumed.

At the height of the annual campaigns, in the mid-1930's, so many mosaics had been unearthed that they were stacked-up against nearby walls (below), as if they had just been massed-produced in a workshop or factory. 

A color photo of mosaics being readied for shipment to the museums which had financially-backed the Antioch excavations, 1932-39

Some of the Antioch mosaics were colossal in size. The Worcester Art Museum's Hunt Floor Mosaic measures slightly over 246 by 281 feet (625.8 x 716.2 cm.) and weighs around 1200 lbs.

Gallery view of the Worcester Art Museum's Hunt Floor Mosaic

The Princeton team should not have be surprised that mosaics were a major feature of Antioch's culture. Pompeii, by comparison, had many well-known mosaics. It was the content of the Antioch mosaics and the dates of their creation which raised the eyebrows of the excavators and of the scholarly community reading the annual reports from the field. 

The subject matter depicted on the Antioch mosaics was almost entirely devoted to Greek gods and goddesses. In Christian parlance it was "pagan" art. 

Fragment of a Floor Mosaic depicting Tethys in a Marine Background, 

c. 250-275. Collection of the Baltimore Museum of Art

This was no small point. Antioch was one of the earliest cities where Christians established congregations. In fact, the Acts of the Apostles, 11:26, affirms that Antioch was the first place where the followers of Jesus were called Christians. Two of the most important Christian theologians of the post-Apostolic age, St. Ignatius and St. John Chrysostom, were from Antioch.

Yet, no Christian art works or artifacts, of any real significance, were ever unearthed during the 1930's excavations. Nor did the Princeton team ever discover the remains of a Christian church, many of which certainly existed.

This is indeed puzzling. Most of the mosaics excavated in Antioch date to the third through sixth centuries. During all this period, Christianity was in the ascent, while belief in the gods and goddesses of Olympus was fading away. 

What caused this perplexing failure to create public art matching Christian piety in Antioch? Was it a case of the age-old dilemma, "the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak"?

Saints and sinners do figure in Kanigel's account, though none of the latter are especially culpable. Kanigel's protagonists date more from the twentieth century than antiquity. They share in the familiar strengths and weaknesses of modern times, giving Kanigel plenty to work with in shaping an enthralling narrative.

Uncovering Antioch is an astutely written account of academic "politics", international diplomacy and personal ambition. As readers of Kanigel's earlier books know, he has an almost uncanny knack of taking an unconventional subject and explaining it with insight and elan.

In the case of Uncovering Antioch, Kanigel performs a "magic-trick" of sustained narrative brilliance. He summons the ancient past to life, evokes the "between-the wars" era of the 1920's and 30's, recounts the epic eight-year "dig" at Antioch and then ties-up the "loose ends" in such a way that both the general reader and the scholar of archaeology will comprehend all of the arcane details.

The saga of the Antioch excavations can only be briefly reprieved here. In 1927, a Princeton academic, Charles Rufus Morey, launched the bold enterprise when he learned that the French were considering an expedition to Antioch. France governed Syria as part of the post-World War I settlement, but needed funding to carry out the "dig."

Morey struck a deal with the French. He promised to finance the effort for two digging "campaigns, beginning in 1932, and recruit American team members for the excavations. By the terms of the agreement, the French and the Americans would each get a third of whatever treasures would be unearthed. The remaining third would be donated to a new, projected museum in Syria.

What the Princeton/French team needed was a sensational discovery which would grab international news headlines and generate cash flow to keep the "dig" going. They got their wish almost immediately when the astonishing mosaic, The Judgement of Paris, was unearthed in 1932. Dating to the era of the Roman emperors, Trajan and Hadrian, c. 115 to 150, this incomparable mosaic was sent to the Louvre.

 

The Judgement of Paris mosaic, c. 115 to 150

Detail of The Judgement of Paris mosaic, c. 115 to 150

After that, the mosaics kept coming and coming. But Uncovering Antioch is not a mosaic-driven story, despite the wealth of knowledge and insight which Kanigel provides for these ancient artworks. This is primarily a story of human dynamics.

The "Main Street Dig" excavations to determine the course of Antioch's main concourse, buried under layers of sediment over the centuries

Like all great story-tellers, Kanigel finds a way into the minds and souls of the individuals he writes about. Like the heroes at Troy, they went out to the dusty, sometimes flooded, fields around Antioch for year-after-year in what was truly an epic endeavor.

A 1933 photo showing some of the participants in the Antioch excavations.  At left, in suit and tie, is the first director, Clarence Fisher; seated at right is William "Sandy" Campbell, who succeeded him in 1934. Standing behind his wife & son, is Jean Lassus.

In the above photograph, we see several of the remarkable team who rescued the Antioch mosaics from their centuries-long confinement below ground.There is the taciturn Clarence Fisher, a specialist in Egyptology who led the initial campaigns, his charismatic successor, William "Sandy" Campbell, and the charming, yet thoroughly professional, French archaeologist, Jean Lassus, later a hero of the World War II anti-Nazi Resistance.

Among the many notable protagonists of Uncovering Antioch, it should be noted, is the author himself.

      Robert Kanigel, author of Uncovering Antioch  

Kanigel, a man of many accomplishments, is also an "amateur" mosaicist. His personal commentary on making mosaics - of modest dimensions, no floor-sized hunting scenes - enlivens the account of the aftermath of the 1930's dig. 

Even more worthy of note are Kanigel's reflections on the emotional impact of working with and studying mosaics from antiquity. In a moving passage, he writes:

Early in my evolving fellowship with the mosaics, as I encountered them on museum walls, online, or in the pages of books, I developed genuine intimacy with only a few of them. But with time, seen repeatedly and in varied contexts, they together worked their way into me, with their gods and goddesses, warriors, heroes, Greek inscriptions, animals wild and domestic, food, drink, revelry, jewels, scenes sweet and grotesque, wild hair, piercing eyes...

I positively agree with these insights on the way that ancient works of art can "work their way" into one's mind and thoughts. In my case, it is the Fayum mummy portraits which I regularly examine at the Metropolitan Museum of Art that have "worked their way into me."

As I finished reading Uncovering Antioch, I could not help but compare one of the  Fayum portraits from the Met with a type of mosaic discussed in the book. These are termed "personifications." Kanigel describes them as "well-coiffed and bejeweled woman of imposing aspect." 

These stylish beauties are posed in conjunction with a word in Greek signifying a special attribute or desired aspect of the "good life" of this world.

At left, a "personification" mosaic from Antioch, Agora, contrasted with a Fayum Mummy portrait (photo by Anne Lloyd, 2019)

An especially impressive "personification" from the collection of the Worcester Art Museum shows a young woman with the inscription "Agora" above her, denoting "abundance of the marketplace."

I have yet to visit the Worcester Art Museum (WAM) and meet "Lady Agora" in person. After looking - and looking - at her via WAM's website, I can only shake my head in wonder. She is an allegorical figure, yet her physical presence is palpable. She even has the "strong eye, weak eye" which is visible in many a living human countenance.

Did a real woman from Antioch pose for this "personification", as the Egyptian woman did (either before or after death) in the case of the Met's Fayum portrait? 

If both images depict real women, then both died well-onto two thousand years in the past. Yet so vivid, so "alive" are these portraits - as is the lively, insightful text of Uncovering Antioch - that two thousand years ago seems like yesterday.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved

Archival photos courtesy of the Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes. https://ochre.lib.uchicago.edu/antioch                                                                                                                                                    

 Introductory Image: Cover art of of Uncovering Antioch by Robert Kanigel, 2026. Courtesy of Simon & Schuster

Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes.  Floor of the triclinium of Atrium House being cleared, 1932.  Photograph N108

Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes. The Dancing Satyr Mosaic before being removed from the Atrium House floor.  Photograph N111

Dancing Satyr Mosaic from the Atrium House (Fragment of floor mosaic depicting a dancing satyr), Early 2nd century. Mosaic: Stone, glass, and lime mortar, 73 5/8 x 44 1/2 x 2 7/8 in. (187 x 113 x 7.3 cm.) Baltimore Museum of Art, Antioch Subscription Fund. #1933.52.2.

Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes. Color photograph of mosaics from Antioch being prepared for shipment. Photo by G.E. Kidder Smith.  Photograph ANT PH KS 8015.

Gallery view of the Hunt Floor Mosaic gallery at the Worcester Art Museum.   https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mosaics,_Worcester_Art_Museum_-_IMG_7443.JPG

Fragment of floor mosaic depicting Tethys in a Marine Background, c. 250-275. Mosaic: Stone and lime mortar, 76 1/4 x 53 5/8 x 2 5/16 in. (193.7 x 136.2 x 5.9 cm.) Baltimore Museum of Art

Mosaic of the Judgment of Paris, from Antioch on the Orontes, 115-150 AD. Mosaic (polychrome):196 cm x 196 cm x 8 cm. Estimated weight: 120 kg. Louvre Museum, Paris.

Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes. Photograph of the Main Street dig. Workmen placing shoring timbers in postion. Photograph N294.

Committee for the Investigation of Antioch-on-the-Orontes. Staff of 1933 Season. Photo N1269b. 

Photograph of Robert Kanigel. Courtesy of Simon & Schuster

Floor Mosaic of Personification of Agora (Abundance of the Marketplace), late 4th century. Mosaic: marble, limestone and glass embedded in lime mortar: 80.6 x 98.4 cm (31 3/4 x 38 3/4 in.) Worcester Art Museum, funded by bequests of Rev. Dr. Austin S. Garver and Sarah Garver.

Anne Lloyd, (Photo 2019) Portrait of a Young Woman in Red (detail), c. 90-120 AD. A.D. 90–120. Encaustic on limewood with gold leaf: H. 38.1 x W. 18.4 cm (15 x 7 1/4 in.) Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Art Eyewitness Essay: The Dream Garden of Maxfield Parrish & Louis Comfort Tiffany

 

Art Eyewitness Essay:

The Dream Garden of Maxfield Parrish & Louis Tiffany

Essay Text by Ed Voves

Original Photos by Anne Lloyd

It was a perfect September day. Golden sunshine, bright blue sky, temperature in the high 70's, low humidity. "Camelot" weather, where "it never rains until after sundown." More to the point, since I live in Philadelphia, it was a "Dream Garden" kind of day. 

On this delightful day, my wife, Anne, and I visited The Dream Garden, a magnificent mosaic located in the historic "Old City" section of Philly. Created over a century ago by Maxfield Parrish and Louis Comfort Tiffany, it is one of the greatest mosaics in the world and it is right here, in Philadelphia.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

The Curtis Center lobby, showing The Dream Garden.

It is always a sunny day in Philadelphia's Dream Garden. But the dramatic story of the creation of this vision of earthly paradise has plenty of stormy weather.

Cyrus Curtis, who founded the Curtis Publishing Company in 1891, desired a grand work of art for the lobby of his new office building, opened in 1910. The Curtis Building, now Curtis Center, is located at 601-645 Walnut Street, Philadelphia, across the street from the park behind Independence Hall.

 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Exterior view of the Curtis Center, Philadelphia PA

The Curtis Building served as the headquarters of one of America's great media empires. Cyrus Curtis and his talented son-in-law, Edward W. Bok, guided their flagship magazines, The Saturday Evening Post and Ladies Home Journal, to readership in the millions and immense profits.

Curtis and Bok wanted a work of art to match the influence and vision of their publications and they got what they wanted - eventually. 

Edwin Austin Abbey (1852-1911) was commissioned to create an appealing, accessible work of art, suited to the taste of the readers of the Curtis publications. A Philadelphia-born painter with an international reputation, Abbey was a member of the Royal Academy in London, a rare honor for an American. He had played an important role in the American watercolor renaissance following the Civil War and was an accomplished mural painter. 

For the Curtis Building, Abbey planned a painting in the spirit of Raphael's School of Athens. The mural would depict Plato and his disciples engaged in discussion in the Grove of Academe.

Abbey set to work on the preparatory sketches. And then, suddenly, in August 1911, he died.

Abbey's death was a heavy blow but this moment of adversity also brought Edward W. Bok, Vice President of Curtis, to the center stage of the saga of The Dream Garden. Three dynamic men of genius would play leading roles in the creation of this masterpiece, with Bok as a Lorenzo the Magnificent-style patron. 

Edward W. Bok

Edward Bok (1863-1930) was a leading proponent of the Art and Crafts movement as well as a brilliant editor. Born in Holland, Bok was ambitious and hard-working, courteous and community-conscious. In short, he was well-positioned to find the right artist to create a mural for the lobby of the Curtis Building. 

Following Abbey's death, Bok offered the mural commission to John Singer Sargent, who declined. Howard W. Pyle, America's most renowned illustrator, based in nearby Wilmington, Delaware, was next on Bok's list. Pyle, however, died suddenly in November 1911. 

Over the next two years, a succession of artists were considered and rejected for the mural, including Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), the leading decorative artist in the U.S.

Louis Comfort Tiffany

Bok esteemed Tiffany's luminous mosaic technique, known as favrile glass, but rejected the designs he submitted. Finally, a French artist, Louis Boutet de Monvel, was selected. Then, on March 16, 1913, Boutet de Monvel died.

The entire project to transform the lobby of the Curtis Building into a showcase of truth and beauty seemed jinxed.

"The hoodoo that is following me in regard to the panels is simply amazing," Bok wrote, "... the moment  I have mural relations with a man he seems to run off the earth."

After Boutet de Monvel's death, Bok turned to the hugely popular artist/illustrator, Maxfield Parrish, for a design which Tiffany and his artisans would translate into mosaic. Parrish, the "master of make-believe" had local Philadelphia roots like Abbey and Pyle. But he was in remarkably good health and would, in fact, live until 1966.

 

Maxfield Parrish

It is odd that Bok waited so long to approach Parrish. He and the artist had worked together on a number of successful projects. Parrish was completing a series of murals for the Ladies' Dining Room at the Curtis Building while Bok searched in vain for an artist for the lobby mural. Moreover, Parrish was a member of Bok's design selection team. 

There is no easy answer to this riddle. But it is revealing that the design Parrish submitted, a three by nine foot panel painting, was not a "grove of Academe" scene. Instead, it portrayed a "dream garden."

Based in part on Parrish's own garden at his home in New Hampshire, the design is radically different from a reworking of Raphael's School of Athens. Except for two small sculptures featuring Commedia dell'Arte masks at the bottom of the design, there is no sign of the hand of man. No Greek-style architecture, no pensive philosophers.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of The Dream Garden, showing a Commedia dell'Arte mask

What Parrish's design depicted was an idyllic refuge from the hard-edged industrial world on the streets of modern American cities. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Gallery view of The Dream Garden at the Curtis Center

Parish offered a beguiling scene to viewers, who could imagine themselves stepping over the lobby threshold into the sylvan setting of The Dream Garden. Bathed in golden light, meditating among the clumps of fragrant flowers and majestic trees, visitors to the Curtis Building would be "at one with nature." 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of The Dream Garden, center-foreground of the mosaic

Bok accepted the design, paying Parrish $2,000 for the picture. Tiffany would receive $40,000 to create the mosaic. Work began in 1914. 

The key to success was matching Tiffany's favrile glass technique to Parrish's radiant color scheme. The favrile glass firing technique, patented by Tiffany in 1894, treats molten glass with metallic oxides which ingrain color throughout the glass, not just on the surface. The signature iridescent quality of Tiffany Glass is the result.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of The Dream Garden, showing Tiffany mosaic tiles

Rather than continuing with a detailed recapitulation of the production process of The Dream Garden, I will quote from the brilliant - and succinct - summation on the descriptive plaque in the lobby of the Curtis Center.

The mosaic's images are rendered in "favrile" glass, following a complex hand I firing process developed by Tiffany to produce over 100,000 pieces of glass in 260 colors. Most of the glass was set in 24 panels in Tiffany's New York studios. Thirty artisans worked for a year on the mosaic, and the installation of the panels in this location took six months. The finished work was hailed by art critics as "a veritable wonder-piece" at the official unveiling in 1916. The amazing variety of opaque, translucent, and transparent glass, entirely lighted from the lobby achieves perspective effects that have never been duplicated.

The unveiling of The Dream Garden, first in Tiffany's studio in New York and then in Philadelphia, created a sensation. Bok was mightily pleased, as were the throngs of art lovers who visited the previews. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of The Dream Garden, showing Louis Comfort Tiffany's careful

 translation of Maxfield Parrish's original design into mosaic 

Even art critics approved of The Dream Garden, one going so far as to say, "Mere words are only aggravating in describing this amazing picture."

Maxfield Parrish, however, was not pleased. He flatly refused to attend the opening reception in Philadelphia or to send a conciliatory message.

Parrish's dislike of The Dream Garden mosaic is hard to fathom. He only visited Tiffany's studios on two occasions, at the beginning of the project and once more, as work neared completion. He raised no major criticism at that time. 

Bok lavished praise on Parrish, printing and distributing a handsome color print of the the original painting which Tiffany and his team labored so diligently to translate into mosaic. Except for a remark that the mosaic lacked the "painterliness" of his original design, Parrish retreated into an aggrieved silence.

Unless a stash of recriminatory letters comes to light, it is unlikely that a definitive reason for Parrish's disapproval of The Dream Garden mosaic will be discovered. 

Anne was able to take some superb close-up photos of The Dream Garden mosaic tiles. These enabled me to study images of these bits of favrile glass on the computer screen in a way that I could not by direct examination in the Curtis Center Lobby. Over and over again, I was astonished by the artistry, as well as the technical skill, of Tiffany and his team. 

This mastery is particularly evident in the way that Tiffany and his artisans were able to recreate the orange glow of early morning light bathing the exposed mountain face. Shades of light purple evoke the shadowy recesses, still untouched by the dawn. 

All of this visual magic was achieved with thousands of small pieces of colored glass covering a vast space measuring fifteen by forty-nine feet.  

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Details of The Dream Garden mosaic, 

showing skillful use of contrasting colors in Tiffany's favrile tiles

As if this was not impressive enough, the very moment of sunrise is articulated by a golden line of light, outlining the summit of a mountain, above and to the left of the scene just described. Dawn awakens the world, not in one blazing moment, but in a gradual process, a sublime transformation which the Tiffany team captured with astonishing skill.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Mountain sunrise in The Dream Garden mosaic

As stated in the descriptive lobby plaque (provided by the Pennsylvania Academy of Art) the Tiffany Studio used 260 colors of glass to translate The Dream Garden into mosaic. But this wide array of colors was not sufficient for Tiffany who tasked his artisans to hand-paint some of the glass pieces to better replicate the details of Parrish's design. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Detail of The Dream Garden mosaic. Painted embellishments by 

Tiffany artisans are visible in the rose petals.

Many of the glass pieces of the mosaic were also backed by gold leaf to enhance a shimmering effect.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Many of The Dream Garden mosaic tiles were set in place 

over a gold leaf backing by Tiffany artisans.

Given this exacting effort to to insure fidelity with Parrish's original, the  comment that the mosaic was not "painterly" does seem to be a bit unfair. 

It is important to remember that the original design was Parrish's conception, his "dream." It is intriguing to speculate about the human drama behind The Dream Garden. But a more important point needs to be considered, as well. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

The Curtis Center lobby, showing the installation of The Dream Garden

During the long six-year campaign to mount a major work of art in the lobby of the Curtis Building, a series of seismic shifts, cultural and political, transformed the familiar world of Bok, Tiffany and Parrish.

In 1911, when Abbey died and Bok's quest began in earnest, the social structures of the Edwardian age, with its unquestioning belief in progress and profit, were still in place. Then, in 1913, the Armory Show hit the American art scene like a tornado. The next year, World War I shattered Europe. "Too proud to fight" in 1915 when 128 U.S. citizens drowned in the sinking of the passenger ship Lusitania by a German submarine, many Americans were ready and willing to join in the global bloodbath in 1917.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Seen in retrospect, 1916 was the last year of America's Gilded Age. The Dream Garden, intended to embody precepts of truth and beauty, serves as a poignant memorial to a vanished America where "wars and rumors of wars" were almost always "Over There" or in the past.

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

Melancholy thoughts like this don't last long, when you stand before The Dream Garden. Meditate for a moment or two. Behold the reflection of the glimmering mosaic in the wishing pool, below. Savor the essence of this remarkable work of art, ingrained in thousands of favrile glass tiles, and then that spirit will enter into our hearts, too! 

After we left the Curtis Building, Anne and I walked down Walnut Street past the 18th-style gardens cultivated  for by the Pennsylvania Horticultural Society. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022)

Colonial-style gardens at the Independence National Historical Park 

It was a familiar scene for me. Many years ago, I used to work as a volunteer tour guide at the Independence National Historic Park. I have walked past these gardens countless times

On this sunny day in September, however, the neatly-trimmed hedges and shrubs, sited with geometric precision, affected me much differently than they usually do. 

Anne Lloyd, Photo (2022) 

A Philadelphia "Dream Garden", 2022

Perhaps it was the weather or just my impression, but everywhere I looked I seemed to see a Dream Garden.

***

Maxfield Parrish (American, 1870-1966), designer. The Dream Garden, 1914-15. Constructed by Tiffany Studios, Cortona, New York; installed in the Curtis Center Building, Philadelphia, 1916. Favrile Glass Mosaic:15 x 49 feet (180 x 588 Inches.) Weight: four tons. 

The Dream Garden is part of the Collection of the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts. Partial Bequest of John W. Merriam; partial purchase with funds provided by a grant from the Pew Charitable Trusts; partial gift from Bryn Mawr College, The University of  the Arts, and the Trustees of the University of Pennsylvania. 2001-15.#2001.15

The photo of Maxfield Parrish is from the archives of the National Portrait Gallery, Washington D.C.; the photos of Edward W. Bok and Louis Comfort Tiffany are from the Library of Congress.

Art Eyewitness Book Review: Ravenna by Judith Herrin

 

             

                                  Ravenna: Capital of Empire, Crucible of Europe

By Judith Herrin    

Princeton University Press/$29.95/537 pages

Reviewed by Ed Voves 

In most books on Western art, the mosaics of Ravenna, the last capital of the Western Roman Empire, are accorded a few paragraphs of commentary. Then, the narrative bids farewell to the glories of ancient art and the journey to the Middle Ages begins.

A recently published book about Ravenna presses the pause button of the march of art history. The author, Judith Herrin, demonstrates that the impact of Ravenna was much broader and more influential, in politics and in art, than is generally realized.

In this major reassessment, Herrin combines an overarching view of events and historical trends. She also focuses on the social, religious and artistic history of Ravenna. There are so many points of cultural transition, shared with the embryonic nations of the West, that Ravenna certainly merits the title of "crucible of Europe."

Ravenna's "center stage" role in history began as Germanic tribes crossed the frontiers of the Roman Empire, beginning with the Goths in 376. 

In 402, the Emperor Honorius evacuated his court from Milan (Rome itself was no longer the capital of the Western half of the Empire) and took refuge in the more defensible city of Ravenna. Until that point, Ravenna had been a navy base where a branch of the Po River flows into the Adriatic Sea. Ravenna and its neighboring port facility, Classis, were surrounded by dense marshes which the cavalry of the Gothic tribes could not easily cross. 

Of necessity, Herrin presents a considerable amount of political history which took place beyond Ravenna's protective marshes. Inside the city limits, many of the norms of urban life under the Roman Empire continued - chariot races, public baths, regular supplies of grain from Sicily or North Africa. When Rome was sacked in 410 by Gothic troops who had not been paid, the shock was "seismic" but life went on. Those who could, fled to Ravenna.

Two of the political "survivors" who flourished in Ravenna serve as major protagonists in Herrin's often gripping narrative. These larger-than-life figures are Empress Galla Placidia (ca.388-450) and the savy Gothic leader, King Theodoric (454–526). Their lives, fraught with peril and adventure, cannot be more than summarized here. They did share one significant life experience. Galla Placidia and Theodoric both spent a considerable part of their youth as hostages.

Gold Solidus of Galla Placidia, minted at Ravenna, 426-430

Galla Placidia was half-sister to the feckless Emperor Honorious. She was living in Rome rather than Ravenna, when the Gothic mercenaries stormed the city in 410. Galla Placidia was carted-off with other prisoners when these Visigoths departed. She was very well-treated and eventually married the Gothic king, Athaulf. This union might have led to a Roman-Goth alliance but Athaulf was murdered by one of his own men. Galla Placidia was eventually released, married again and for a decade was the regent of the Western Empire for her young son, Valentinian III. 

Theodoric, born in 454, spent his younger years as a hostage in Constantinople, capital of the Eastern roman Empire. He spent his time wisely, learning about the ways of the Romans. 

Gold Triple Solidus of Theodoric, 493-526

By a series of complex maneuvers, diplomatic and military, Theodoric seized power in Italy, with his capital in Ravenna. He ruled, nominally on behalf of the Eastern Empire. The real power was his and Theodoric understood that raw military strength was most effective when tempered by patronage of the Christian Church and its art. 

In cultivating the Church, Theodoric followed in the footsteps of Galla Placidia.

When Galla Placida took up residence in Ravenna, following her release by the Visigoths, she had few political "cards" to play. But constructing  impressive churches was one way of asserting power. This she did, building the great church in Ravenna dedicated to St. John the Evangelist and, even more famously, the edifice known as the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia. As Herrin astutely notes, Galla Placida's Mausoleum was never intended as a burial chamber but was part of another church which no longer survives.

The Dome of the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, 425-450

Photo: © Kieran Dodds

Galla Placidia's "Mausoleum" is an manifestation of political and religious, indeed universal, order. The astonishing mosaics of its interior show a starry sky, an image of Jesus - one of the earliest surviving depictions of Christ, a scene showing the martyrdom of St. Lawrence and decorative motifs of flora and fauna recalling the Garden of Eden. These mosaics are accompanied by verses, based on quotes from the Bible, carved on the arches of the building. 

Galla Placidia brought heaven to earth with this incredible imagery. She also reasserted the claim of the rulers of Rome to a definitive religious role. Beginning with Constantine, the first Christian emperor, Rome's supreme leader was declared to be isapóstolos - "equal of the Apostles." Galla Placidia's magnificent buildings in Ravenna proclaimed that an empress could be isapóstolos, too.

There is no record of King Theodoric desiring to be recognized as "equal to the Apostles." He did aim at political parity with the Eastern Roman emperor and very nearly achieved this goal. 

Detail of mosaics on the north wall of the nave of St. Apollinare Nuovo, showing the presentation of gifts by the Three Magi. 

(This image does not appear in the book.)

A capable general and skillful diplomat, Theodoric rivaled Galla Placdia as a builder of churches in Ravenna. His palace church, St. Apollinare Nuovo, with towering marble pillars and three tiers of mosaics, ranks as one of the great architectural achievements of the period, equal in merit to contemporary structures in Constantinople sponsored by the Eastern emperors.

Theodoric faced a problem which Galla Placidia never had to deal with. Although Theodoric was a Christian, he was a member of a group branded as heretics by the Christian religious establishment. He wasn't alone. Almost all of the German tribes had embraced Arianism, a form of Christianity which emphasized the cosmic power of God the Father, with the divinity of Jesus - the Son of God - being of a much lesser degree. The established Christian view, Orthodoxy, held that Jesus was equally human and equally divine. 

The difference in theology was profound and affected the composition of the art works on the walls of Ravenna's churches. Herrin's perceptive analysis, ably complemented by the superb photos of Kieran Dodds, helps the reader grasp the contending views of Jesus, God and Man.

Ravenna's baptisteries are a case in point. These buildings, still standing, were constructed for new Christians to profess their faith. Recalling the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan, one shows a mosaic of Jesus as a mature adult, the other as a beardless youth. The first is the Orthodox Baptistery, the second - built by Theodoric - is the Arian Baptistery.

These rival interpretations of how Jesus' physical attributes reflected his divine status is a fascinating subject. Early Christian art emphasized the image of Jesus the Good Shepherd, rather than Jesus on the Cross. The crucified Christ was still a source of grief and mortification despite the passing of centuries. 

Detail of the young Christ from the apse of San Vitale, 526-540

Photo: © Kieran Dodds

When we look at the magnificent depiction of a young, fresh-faced Jesus on a spectacular mosaic in the Church of San Vitale in Ravenna, we are seeing the deep roots of the emphasis on his humanity. Yet, San Vitale is an Orthodox Church, built after Theodoric. Not far from this image in San Vitale, is another depiction of Jesus, older and more venerable - and bearded. Even the Christian Church establishment felt the need to try and satisfy both parties.

So too did Theodoric. He was a notably tolerant ruler, accommodating both the Orthodox population of Italy and his own Arian followers. .

Theodoric's amazing political fortune never turned as long as he lived. But all his hopes for a Gothic dynasty of a united Italy, ruled from Ravenna, swiftly withered after he died in 526. The powerful and ambitious Emperor Justinian made his move to reconquer Italy, ultimately achieved after a bitterly fought campaign. Italy was left in ruins and the Byzantine treasury drained of funds needed to pay Justinian's troops. 

No sooner were the Goths defeated than a new wave of German invaders, the Lombards, overran the north of Italy. Ravenna was menaced by an unceasing round of raids and sieges, though its marshland defenses generally held. 

Within the city walls, a similar scenario occurred. Arianism was refuted, to be succeeded by endless, hair-splitting interpretations of Jesus' human/divine nature. 

The latter chapters of Ravenna, Capital of Empire, Crucible of Europe make for some fairly discouraging reading. But Herrin redeems the political and religious folly of that era by her insightful examination of Ravenna's social history. While "things fell apart" and "the center did not hold," considerable achievements in medicine, scientific education and linguistics occurred in the beleaguered city.

Ravenna endured. Charlemagne eventually crushed the Lombards and was crowned as Holy Roman Emperor on Christmas Day, 800. As he laid the foundations of his expansive realm, he had only to look to Ravenna as a treasure house of art and architecture and a ready source of political ideology and scientific ideas.

The Domkirche (Palace Chapel) of Charlemagne at Aachen, 794-813

Charlemagne visited Ravenna three times. He directly modeled the Domkirche,  or palace chapel, which he built in his capital city of Aachen on the plan of the Church of San Vitale in Ravenna. 

Herrin also speculates - with abundant evidence - that Charlemagne felt a special affinity for King Theodoric: 

Visiting the king's mausoleum ... Charles perhaps considered how to be buried in a comparably impressive fashion. Theodoric's combination of Germanic aggression and Byzantine statecraft created a startlingly relevant model for the Frankish king so recently raised to imperial status.

Ravenna's legacy came at a high price - for Ravenna. In one of the most provocative conclusions of her very fine book, Herrin judges that the efforts to safeguard the knowledge of the ancient world ultimately sapped the strength and independence of Ravenna's people. 

So much effort was expended in protecting the city from invaders beyond the marshes that little energy and resources remained to drain the harbor at Classis. Year-after-year, erosion filled the port with silt, cutting Ravenna's access to the sea. Likewise, the emphasis on preserving traditional knowledge prevented the growth of a sense of trial-by-error initiative - and innovation. 

By the time of Charlemagne's visits, Ravenna was fading in economic power. Venice, founded in 697 by refugees from Lombard raids, was already sending merchant vessels and protecting warships down the Adriatic Sea, en route to the Mediterranean sea lanes. The ships of Venice, proudly flying the lion banner of St. Mark, sailed past land-locked Ravenna, without bothering to stop. 

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Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                                                           

Introductory Image: Book cover image of Ravenna, Capital of Empire, Crucible of Europe, Courtesy of Princeton University Press

Gold Solidus of Galla Placidia, minted at Ravenna, 426-430. Gold: 4.47g, 21mm. Dumbarton Oaks Museum. # BZC.1948.17.932

Gold Triple Solidus of Theodoric, 493-526.   https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Teodorico_re_dei_Goti_(493-526).png

The Dome of the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, 425-450. Courtesy of Princeton University Press. Photo: © Kieran Dodds

Detail of mosaics on the north wall of the nave of St. Apollinare Nuovo, showing the presentation of gifts by the Three Magi. Courtesy of the University of Michigans' Art Images for College Teaching. 

Detail of the young Christ from apse of San Vitale, 526-540. Courtesy of Princeton University Press Photo: © Kieran Dodds 

The Domkirche (High Cathedral) of Charlemagne at Aachen, 794-813. Photo courtesy of J. Heribert Pohl. https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Hohe_Domkirche_zu_Aachen,_Impressionen_aus_dem_karolingischem_Oktogon_---_High_Cathedral_of_Aachen,_Impressions_from_the_Carolingian_octagon_(14328301875).jpg