Art Eyewitness Book Review: The Sarpedon Krator by Nigel Spivey

The Sarpedon Krater:

The Life and Afterlife of a Greek Vase

By Nigel Spivey

University of Chicago Press/256 pages/$25

Reviewed by Ed Voves

Of the thousands of ancient Greek vases which fill museum cases around the world, one is particularly notable. Had this review been written a decade earlier, the Sarpedon Krater would more likely have been described as "notorious" than notable. 

Thereby "hangs a tale," as the old saying goes. 

The story of the Sarpedon Krater has been brilliantly told by Nigel Spivey, author and presenter of the BBC television series, How Art Made the World. Spivey traces the strange and wondrous journey of the Sarpendon Krater from ancient Athens in the sixth century B.C. to the present.

The Sarpendon Krater's notoriety resulted from its theft by a gang of Italian tombaroli or tomb robbers in December 1971.The crime scene was the Etruscan burial ground of Greppe Sant'Angelo located in Tuscany. These cliff tombs housed the ashes and grave goods of Etruscan nobles from the ancient city state of Caere, now called Cerveteri. The vase was part of the rich store of Greek luxury goods purchased by the Etruscans. Their wealth from vast deposits of iron and copper ore enabled them to buy the best that the Greeks had to offer.

Euphronios and Euxitheos, The Sarpedon Krater,  ca. 515-510 B.C.

© Cerveteri, Museo Archeologico

In the autumn of 1972, the Metropolitan Museum of Art announced that it had purchased the Sarpedon Krater, the "finest Greek vase there is" according to a Met publicity release from the time. Almost immediately, "red flags" began waving. Where had this incredible red-figure Athenian krater or wine-mixing vase come from? It was a very good question and an inconvenient one.

The two officials of the Met who were responsible for purchasing the Sarpedon Krater should have examined its provenance more closely. The curator in charge of the Met's celebrated Greek and Roman galleries was Dietrich von Bothmer, one of the world's greatest authorities on ancient art. The Met's director, Thomas Hoving, was a master-mind of publicity and revenue-generating exhibitions. Neither could resist the temptation of adding the Sarpedon Krater to the Met's collection.

The third figure in the million dollar transaction was Bob Hecht, an art dealer whose reputation was hedged in question marks. Hecht claimed that the Sarpedon Krater came from the collection of an elderly Armenian, Dikran Sarrafian, who needed to provide for his retirement. Sarrafian died a few years later in suspicious car accident.The murky, tortuous plot, with Italian officials in pursuit of the tombaroli and Hecht, is deftly handled by Spivey and need not detain us.

From the standpoint of the visual art scene, however, it is important to acknowledge the role of Philippe de Montebello, who replaced Hoving as director at the Met. In a brilliant stroke of damage control, de Montebello repatriated the Sarpedon Krater to Italy in 2008. By way of compensation, the Italian government has provided generous cooperation in mounting many of the outstanding exhibitions which the Met has featured since then.

Perhaps the greatest long-term benefit of returning the Sarpedon Krater is liberating it from the contention which shrouded its time at the Met. De Montebello's decision has given the Sarpedon Krater the opportunity to be studied and appreciated as the profoundly moving work of art which it is. Nigel Spivey does exactly that, in a book that is a model of insight, concise detail and thoughtful, immensely readable prose.

There are two signatures on the Sarpedon Krater: Euxitheos and Euphronios. The first of these craftsmen was the man who shaped and fired the vase. Euxitheos the potter, despite the high caliber of his work, has only a "walk-on" role. The tale of the creation of the Sarpedon Krater is the story of Euphronios. 

The Sarpedon Krater (detail)

The Sarpedon Krater depicts a scene from the Trojan War. Two spiritual beings clad in military uniforms are shown grasping the bleeding, prostrate body of a handsome young warrior. The divine messenger, Mercury, directs the duo, Thanatos (Death) and Hypnos (Sleep), as they prepare to transmit the dead warrior, Sarpedon, to his tomb.

The great vase or krater which Euxitheos and Euphronios jointly created was, almost certainly, made for an elite gathering of Athenians, a symposium. Students of philosophy will recognize this familiar term from the writings of Plato.

A symposium mixed serious discussion with wine drinking and - very often - drunken revelry. Spivey discusses the symposium in great detail, reflecting on why such a  scene such as the burial detail of Sarpedon should have been the subject of the wine krater for a symposium. And it was not just the vase which was decorated in such an alarming fashion. A kylix or wine cup often had images of celestial beings gathering fallen heroes in their arms.

Eos with the Body of Memnon, ca. 490-480 B.C.

© Musée du Louvre

After draining your cup of joy, your eyes would behold a sobering sight. In the celebrated example (above) from the Louvre, Eos mourns for another slain Trojan, Memnon. At least for the first few rounds of a symposium, there would be no escaping from reminders of mortality.

The Sarpedon Krater is signed by Euphronios but most of the masters of Athenian vase painting are not known by their proper name. Instead, an artificial title has been conferred upon them by modern art scholars. The most famous case of such an I.D. process is the career of the "Berlin Painter." This contemporary of Euphronios received his title based upon a work in the collection of a Berlin museum which was closely studied by Sir John Beazley, a British scholar of Greek vase painting around the time of World War I.

Beazley established a methodology by which characteristic details of drawing, often very small and idiosyncratic, can be used to establish the identity of Greek vase painters.  Frustratingly, Euphronios did not feature any absolutely unique details which separate him from other Athenian vase painters. Yet it is possible to ascribe a signature "brand" to Euphronios and one, moreover, of the highest quality. Spivey notes:

Regardless of minor details, Euphronios fund a style, and a mode of composition, that enabled him to broach grand themes of drama and epic - themes that would suit large- scale painting well enough, but required skill and distillation if they were to fit upon a vase.

The "grand themes of drama and epic" of the vases painted by Euphronios appealed to Etruscan nobles, who placed Athenian masterpieces in their tombs. However, the Sarpedon Krater, and others like it, did not simply disappear into the burial chambers of the Etruscans. Examples of death scenes from mythology were featured on elaborate sarcophagi which remained above ground during the Roman era. Many of these featured the death scene of the hero Meleager, from the poems of Ovid.

Marble sarcophagus fragment depicting the death of Meleager, 2nd century A.D.

© Metropolitan Museum of Art

The example of a Meleager sarcophagus, above, comes from the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Spivey uses other versions from Italian collections in his book, but I especially value this one which was restored during the 1500's. From Euphronios and the Roman sarcophagi sculptors there is a direct line of transmission to the masters of the Renaissance, which Spivey expertly traces in his concluding chapters.

Raphael, Pen-an-ink study of the Deposition, ca. 1507

© British Museum 

Raphael's pen-an-ink drawing of the deposition of the body of Jesus was one of sixteen preparatory sketches for a 1507 oil painting, commissioned for the chapel of an aristocratic family, the Baglioni of Perugia. He was clearly influenced by Meleager sarcophagi from antiquity. The "wheel" has come full-circle from Euphronias, but the instinctual human attempt to find transcendence in the face of death goes on.

This very fine book deals with universal issues which one day will directly concern each of us. A sobering reflection perhaps, like drinking the last of the wine in a symposium kylix and glimpsing the picture of a warrior's corpse being readied for burial. But the Sarpedon Krater is also a noble affirmation of the imperishable human soul, much in keeping with John Donne's reminder to Death to "be not proud."

One short sleep past, we wake eternally                                                                         

And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.

***

Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                                                           

Introductory Image:                                                                                    

Cover Illustration of The Sarpedon Krater, courtesy of The University of Chicago Press and Head of Zeus Publishing, Ltd, London

Euphronios and Euxitheos, The Sarpedon Krater,  ca. 515-510 B.C. Attic red-ware ceramics: 45.7 cm. (18 inches) Height, 55.15 cm. (21.7 inches) diameter of mouth. Cerveteri, Museo Archeologico.

Eos with the Body of Memnon, interior of a kylix by Douris, from Capua, ca. 490-480 B.C., Paris, Musée du Louvre, G 115

Unknown Roman artist, Antonine era, Marble sarcophagus fragment depicting the death of Meleager, mid-2nd century A.D. Marble (Luni and Pentelic): 38 1/8 in. × 8 3/4 in. × 46 7/8 in. (96.8 × 22.2 × 119.1 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rogers Fund, 1920. #20.187

Raphael (Italian, 1483 - 1520) Pen-and-brown study for the Deposition (also called the the Baglione 'Entombment', ca. 1507. Pen-and-brown ink on paper: 213 millimetres (height)  X 319 millimetres (width), inscribed: "R.V." British Museum. #1963,1216.1 

Art Eyewitness Essay: The Etruscan Achievement

The Etruscan Achievement

An Art Eyewitness Essay, Part II

By Ed Voves

On November 15,1553, as construction workers labored to build fortifications around the city of Arezzo, Italy, an amazing bronze sculpture was unearthed. Originally thought to be a lion, it was later identified as the Chimaera from Greek mythology, fearsome opponent of the hero, Bellerophon, rider of the winged-horse, Pegasus. 

Duke Cosimo I de' Medici  of Tuscany was exultant when he heard the news. Even with the threat of renewed French invasions, Cosimo found the time and resources to bring the Chimaera to Florence for repair and conservation. The redoubtable Florentine goldsmith, Benvenuto Cellini, worked to restore the battered monster, as did Cosimo himself, in his spare moments.

The Chimaera of Arezzo was originally part of a larger sculpture group, along with statues of Bellerophon and Pegasus. Despite the Greek origin of its legend, the Chimaera was a local creation, made around 400 B.C. On its foreleg is inscribed a dedication to Tinia, the supreme deity of the Etruscans and counterpart of Zeus.

The Chimaera of Arezzo, (detail, showing dedication to Tinia), ca. 400 B.C.

The Etruscans were a remarkable people of ancient Italy. Their homeland, Etruria, occupied the same territorial area as Tuscany, over which Cosimo ruled on behalf of the Holy Roman Empire. Trading partners and sometimes enemies of the Greeks, the Etruscans made a major impact on the civilization of Europe before Rome's relentless legions overpowered their independent city states.

The foundation of Etruscan civilization was provided by rich deposits of metal ores which were much sought after by the seafaring Greeks and Phoenicians. Substantial reserves of iron ore and copper ore were readily accessible to the Etruscans at a number of locations in their domains, but especially in the region known as the Colline Metallifere (metal-bearing hills) and in the Tolfa Mountains, located in the southern part of Etruria. Deposits of tin, the necessary component for making bronze along with copper, were also found in the Etruscan domains. 

"Location, location, location," as real estate agents say. For the Etruscans this was very true. Their iron and cooper mines were located close to the coastline of the Tyrrhenian Sea which borders Italy on the west. History would have been very different had the ore deposits been located on the eastern side of Italy, hemmed in between the Apennines Mountains and the Adriatic Sea, whose shoreline lacks adequate harbors for much of its length.

The Etruscan World, 750-300 B.C. © J. Paul Getty Museum

On the Tyrrhenian Sea coast, there were numerous ports providing safe anchorage for the Greek and Phoenician merchants eager to purchase or exchange products for the iron and copper of the Etruscans. Later in their history, the Etruscan city states developed merchant vessels and warships of their own - and a reputation as pirates among the Greeks. One suspects that this was a case of "it takes one to know one."

The Etruscans were not, however, mere suppliers of iron ore and raw copper. They were master metalsmiths, as the magnificent Chimaera of Arezzo attests. 

The Chimaera of Arezzo, ca. 400 B.C., © National Archaelogical Museum, Florence

Despite the numerous outside influences on their art, from Greece and the Middle East, the Etruscan city-states developed into vibrant centers of art and industry. A notably independent attitude infused Etruscan life and art which can be detected in its earliest manifestation, known as the Villanovan Culture.

The Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City has an exceptionally rich collection  of Etruscan art. One of the earliest pieces of Villanovan art at the Met confirms the technical skill and stylistic independence of early-Etruscan artists. The Bronze Bow Fibula with Four Ducks, shown below, is a safety pin used to fasten a woolen cloak or cape around the neck and shoulders of its owner. Incredibly, the fibula is dated to 900 B.C.!

Bronze Bow Fibula with Four Ducks, ca. 900 B.C. © Metropolitan Museum of Art

In 1853, three centuries after the Chimaera of Arezzo was unearthed, another key Etruscan discovery was made. A necropolis, a "city of the dead," with 193 tombs was excavated near Villanova, twelve kilometres to the south of Bologna in northern Italy. The cinerary urns, in which the ashes of the deceased had been placed, and many of the related "grave goods" were primitive by comparison with the sophisticated sarcophagi and artifacts from later periods of Etruscan history.

Bronze Biconical Vessel, Villanovan Period © British Museum

Bronze Villanova cinerary urns, like the one above, are as significant as if they had been made of gold. These containers testify to a spiritual revolution, the "Urnfields Culture," which began around 1300 B.C. in central Europe and then spread down into Italy. The bodies of the dead were cremated, but reverently buried in urns, testifying to a growing awareness of the human soul. 

From later Greek and Roman writings, we know that the Etruscans were a notably religious people. The north-to-south diffusion of the Urnfields Culture was a foundational event in the rise of the Etruscans. Many theories have been raised, proposing that the Etruscans had journeyed from a homeland in Asia Minor to Italy. The "urnfield" at Villanova, dated to the 9th–8th centuries B.C., shows their roots as deeply planted in Europe.

The Etruscans, who referred to themselves as Rasenna, were big proponents of "I did it my way." Excavations of Urnfield burials in other regions of Europe have revealed little in the way of "grave goods." Not so for the Etruscans, who rivaled the Egyptians in their lively view of the afterlife. Even while cremating the bodies of their deceased, they placed all manner of useful and beautiful artifacts in their graves. 

Cinerary Urn, 8th century B.C. © Princeton University Art Museum

One of the key works of early Etruscan art is this amazing cinerary urn shaped like an Etruscan house. A treasure of the Princeton University Art Museum, it is one of only three such urns made from hammered bronze. Others were made in terracotta ceramic, but are not as detailed. This extraordinary work of art gives rare details of the actual dwellings of the Etruscans, while providing insight into their conceptions of the afterlife.

In 1875, another Villanova-era "city of the dead" was unearthed, the Benacci Necropolis. Bronze plate, vessels and weapons, of notable sophistication, were found at this site, dating to around 700 B.C. These show the growing skill of Etruscan metalwork at the time when trade and cultural ties with the Greeks were just getting underway.

Grave goods from the Benacci Necropolis, © Archaeological Museum of Bologna

The most sensational discovery at the Benacci Necropolis was a strikingly original ceramic vessel. The Benacci Askós takes its name from the Greek word for wineskin. It was likely used to pour wine or oil in sacred ceremonies. The handle, shaped like a mounted warrior, is truly unique, no other comparable example having been found.

The Benacci Askós, late 8th century B.C. © Archaeological Museum of Bologna

What really impresses me about this terracotta masterpiece is the insight it provides into the vivid imaginative faculties of the Etruscans. If their minds found delight in the way that the Greeks depicted their myths and legends, it was because their own capacity for wonder was well developed by the time that they first saw Greek narrative art on vases and amphora imported into Etruria. 

Three centuries of ever-increasing expertise lay between the artisan who created the Benacci Askós and the unknown master who made the Chimaera of Arezzo. Both the Benacci Askós and the Chimaera reveal kindred forms of visual expressionism, depicting the hero's journey or the human mastery of savage nature in unforgettable style. Both works are Etruscan achievements of the highest order.

It was fortunate that the Etruscans had developed a healthy self-identity before the arrival of Phoenician merchants and colonizing Greeks. Three major forms of artistic expression arrived along with imported wine, olive oil and purple cloth: geometric pottery, "orientalized" motifs on jewelry and Archaic painting and sculpture. A less creative people than the Etruscans would have been submerged beneath these powerful tides of foreign artistic influence.

Barrel-shaped Wine Jug, 725-700 B.C. © Metropolitan Museum of Art

A brilliant illustration of Etruscan resilience and adaptability is a distinctive barrel-shaped wine jug or oinoche in the Met's collection. Made about 725-700 B.C., the jug is decorated with an almost text-book example of Greek geometric painting. The two deer at the center of the barrel conform to a Near Eastern motif which can be seen on a Greek ceramic vessel, found on Cyprus, also at the Met.

When viewed as an integrated work of art, this striking piece ranks as a definitive illustration of cross-cultural interaction. Equally important, as Richard Daniel de Puma writes in his insightful book on the Met's Etruscan collection, "This piece demonstrates the Etruscan ability to synthesize and seamlessly combine disparate foreign elements with their own traditions."

The Etruscans' eclectic attitude to artistic styles from around the Mediterranean extended to their role as collectors of art. The Etruscans, like Gilded Age patrons such as J.P. Morgan, bought huge quantities of "masterpiece" art. They especially prized Greek vases which they treasured in this life and in the life hereafter. It has been estimated that over half of all the Greek vases surviving to modern times were discovered in Etruscan tombs. Many like the red-figure amphora from Athens, below, were of the most superlative quality.

Amphora, attributed to the Dikaios Painter, ca. 510. BC. © British Museum

The Etruscans were not content to merely adapt or collect the art of other cultures. Early in the seventh century B.C., initially with the help of Greek artisans, the Etruscans in the city of Caere began experimenting with a black-hued form of pottery which we know today as Bucchero ware. 

Bucchero Jug & Lid (from Chiusi), ca. 550 B.C, © Metropolitan Museum of Art

In his classic study of the Etruscans, Michael Grant noted:

Etruscan bucchero, made of unusually fine clay - preferably with a manganese content - was turned on the wheel and then baked in a slow-burning fire, in such a fashion that the oxygen reached the clay in insufficient quantities to turn its iron content red, but turned it black instead. These ware seem to have been designed in the first place for funerary use, but were then extended to household employment as well and ... were exported on an enormous scale.

It is fascinating to compare the Etruscan technique for Bucchero ware with the methods used by the celebrated Native American potter, Maria Martinez (1887-1980).

Working at the San Idelfonzo Pueblo in New Mexico, Martinez polished the clay surface of her pots and then fired the pots in a kiln which reduced the oxygen, just as the Etruscans had done. The result was the same, the striking metallic-looking, "black on black" ceramics which are featured - in both cases - in art museums around the world.

Etruscan Bucchero ware came in two basic types, a rugged, thick-walled form called Bucchero pesante and the lighter, more elegant, variety known as Bucchero sottile.

Bowl with Lid, (Bucchero pesante), late 6th century B.C  © Metropolitan Museum 

  Kantharos (Bucchero sottile), ca. 650–600 B.C. © Metropolitan Museum of Art

The solid-work-a-day Bucchero pesante was favored in the northern regions of Etruria, while the exquisite Bucchero sottile was a trademark of southern Etruscan city-states, principally Caere.

The wide-ranging export of Bucchero ware brought great wealth to Caere and other Etruscan city-states. The lucrative sale of the region's iron and copper ore continued into the fifth century B.C. as well. The spread of Bucchero ware reflected Etruscan political/military advances into southern Italy and north toward the Alps

Prosperity creates problems, as does poverty. Social stresses in the Etruscan city-states, evidently took place during the sixth and fifth centuries B.C., as they did in Greece and elsewhere in the Mediterranean world. The Greeks, inventors of historical writing, left detailed accounts of the political dissension and power shifts of that period, leading to the rise of democracy in Athens and oligarchy in Sparta.

No detailed narrative of Etruscan history survives, with the result that precise details are lacking of the surging tide of difficulties and challenges faced by the Etruscans. We do know that the Etruscans failed to create a unifying political structure or confederation among the twelve principal city-states of Etruria. 

Military defeats at the hands the Greeks, now solidly entrenched in southern Italy and Sicily, halted Etruscan expansion. Raids, followed by migration, of fierce Celtic tribes into northern Italy, added to the declining fortunes of the Etruscans.

These challenges, however, were nothing in comparison to the rise of a Latin city-state on the very doorstep of Etruria. This city-state had been ruled for over a century by Etruscan kings before the dynasty was expelled in 506 B.C. Establishing an oligarchic republic, the newly independent state declared itself as Senatus populusque Romanus and began challenging the Etruscans on their southern borders.

The Etruscans, as we will see in the concluding Art Eyewitness essay, failed to take effective countermeasures to protect their civilization. They had centuries of impressive achievements to their credit but could not bring themselves to adapt politically as they had done artistically.

During the fourth century B.C., the Etruscans watched as changing geopolitical forces threatened their way of life. No longer masters of their own destiny, they were unable or unwilling to respond to the rise of Rome.

***

Text copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved

Introductory Image:                                           

The Chimaera of Arezzo, ca. 400 B.C. (discovered in  Arezzo, 1553) Bronze cast: Ht 78.5 cm, L 129 cm  Museo Archeologico Nazionale, Florence, inv.1

Bronze Bow Fibula with Four Ducks (safety pin), Villanovan Period, ca. 900 B.C. Bronze: (length) 3 7/16 x 3/8 in. (8.8 x 1 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art Fletcher Fund, 1926 #26.60.87

Bronze Biconical Vessel, Proto-Etruscan or Villanovan Period. Bronze: Diameter: 41 centimetres (max); Height: 30.50 centimetres; Weight: 1707 grammes. British Museum #1928,0117.2

Cinerary Urn in the Form of a House, Villanovan Period, 8th century B.C. Hammered bronze: h. 29.5 cm (11 5/8 in.) roof: 49.2 x 37 cm (19 3/8 x 14 9/16 in.) walls: 39.7 x 30.6 cm (15 5/8 x 12 1/16 in.) Princeton University. Museum purchase, Fowler McCormick, Class of 1921, Fund. #1999-70

Grave goods from the Benacci Necropolis, Tomb 39, Bologna, 750-720 B.C  Archaeological Museum of Bologna #12791

Askós from Benacci Necropolis, Tomb 525, Bologna, Proto-Etruscan, late 8th century B.C. Ceramics:  (Height) 7 cm.  Archaeological Museum of Bologna #12791

Barrel-shaped Wine Jug (oinoche), Geometric Period, 725-700 B.C. Terracotta: H.13 3/16 in. (33.5 cm). Metropolitan Museum of Art. Gift of Schimmel Foundation Inc., 1975. #1975.363

Amphora, attributed to the Dikaios Painter. (Made in Attica, 510.BC.- 500 B.C., found in Vulci). Pottery, red-figured amphora type A: Diameter - 400 mm.; Height: 630 cm.; Weight: 10.20 kilograms. British Museum  #1843,1103.88

Etruscan Bucchero Jug and Lid (from Chiusi), ca. 550 B.C. Terracotta (Bucchero pesante): H.: 14 1/2 in. (36.8 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art. Purchase, 1896, #96.9.140a

Etruscan Bucchero Bowl with Lid, late 6th century B.C (Archaic) Terracotta (Bucchero pesante): Dimensions:H.: 8 1/4 in. (21 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art. Purchase, 1896.  #96.9.139a–c

Etruscan Bucchero  Kantharos (drinking cup), ca. 650–600 B.C. Terracotta (Bucchero sottile): H. with handles 12 in. (30.5 cm), diameter 10 1/4 in. (26 cm). Metropolitan Museum, Rogers Fund, 1921 #21.88.146

Art Eyewitness Book Review: Greek and Roman Art by Susan Woodford

Greek and Roman Art

By Susan Woodford

                 

Thames & Hudson-Art Essentials /$16.95/176 pages

Reviewed by Ed Voves

When we use the word classical to describe the art of ancient Greece and Rome, we are taking a big risk.  "Classical" promotes the idea of timeless, carved-in-marble permanence. Even ruined temples like the Parthenon or an "unarmed" statue like the Venus de Milo are envisioned as somehow safeguarded from the long attrition of the centuries. This is obviously not so - nor was it the case even when such classical masterpieces were first displayed in Athens, Corinth and on the seven hills of Rome.

Change and experimentation defined the art of the Greeks and Romans. This is the theme of a new volume in Thames and Hudson's "Art Essentials" series, Susan Woodford's Greek and Roman Art.

Woodford, a scholar well-versed in the intertwined civilizations of Greece and Rome, expertly analyses a select group of ancient masterpieces. Woodford emphasizes the dynamism of Greek art and of Roman art, too, though not to the degree exercised by the bold artists of Hellas. 

Before proceeding with a review of Woodford's Greek and Roman Art, it is worthy to ask why Thames & Hudson published another book for the general public on this subject when it has already produced one of the greatest works in the field aimed at non-specialists. As I mentioned in another Art Eyewitness post, John Boardman's Greek Art in the World of Art series is a true classic. Yes, the word is deserved!

Boardman brilliantly charted the fascinating course of Greek art following the fall of the Bronze Age palace kingdoms like Pylos and Mycenae around 1200 B.C. The primitive, yet vigorous, creative steps during Greece's "Dark Age," followed by Geometric art, the Orientalizing period, the Archaic Age, the "Golden" fifth century B.C. and the Hellenistic era expansion - Boardman expertly handled each in progression. The latest edition of this exceptional book only adds to its laurels.

Woodford takes a bold, alternative approach to Boardman's narrative. By focusing on a few works of exceptional merit and then showing how the progressive development of Greek and Roman art occurred, Woodford presents an original and much-needed introduction for the general reader. I suspect Greek and Roman Art will prove quite insightful for those already familiar with ancient art. 

Woodford's first chapter deals with the challenges of carving the human body in marble. When Greek merchants and mercenary soldiers began journeying to Egypt following the Dark Age, they observed impressive statues such as the limestone figure of Tjaysetimu, (British Museum) created at some point between 664-525 B.C.

Standing figure of Tjayasetimu, Egypt, 26th Dynasty, ca. 664-525 B.C.

Lacking the skill of the Egyptian masters, the first Greek sculptors used repetitions of certain shapes in order to depict a coherent bodily form. With excellent charts and crisp, clear commentary, Woodford demonstrates how the early Greeks achieved success with the rigid, yet startlingly alive, figure of the Kouros (Youth). This imposing statue, created around 590-580 B.C. will be readily recognizable to visitors to the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City.

Marble Statue of a Kouros (Youth), Attica, Greece, ca. 590–580 B.C.

The Greeks, however, were not satisfied with the Met's Kouros and they commenced upon what Woodford calls the "bumpy road to realism."

Woodford studies two slightly later examples of the Kouros model, both in the collection of the National Archaeological Museum in Athens, to demonstrate just how difficult was this journey. 

The progressive development of the Kouros statues is displayed on the page format of the book (below). We soon grasp Woodford's point. The much more naturalistic pose of the ca. 530 B.C., Anavyssos Kouros (left-hand page) was compromised by the stylized handling of the braided hair which had not seemed such a problem with the Met Kouros sixty years before. Two decade later, the now almost completely realistic Aristodikos Kouros (extreme right) demonstrates how its skillful sculptor had solved all the problems of the earlier statues except one - its basic pose. Even for a grave marker, the Aristodikos Kouros is truly a "stiff."

Each step forward, each successful handling of a detail lacking in realism exposed a new problem. An underlying pattern emerged with marble sculpting in sixth century Greece which would challenge artists in all media during the ancient world - change, emergence of a problem, solution of that problem and emergence of another. Woodford notes that "failures" were as important a driving force as was success. She writes movingly about the artists of Greece:

They could have endlessly repeated the same proven formulae, as the Egyptians did, and run no risks, but their restlessness and sense of adventure spurred them on from one problem to another. Each problem led to a solution on a higher level of complexity until finally the Greeks produced solutions that carried such conviction that they left an impress on all later western art and eventually reached the far corners of the world.

The carving of the famous Kritios Boy during the first decades of the fifth century B.C. seemed to have addressed the earlier chain of problem-causing solutions. The "at-ease" pose of the Kritios Boy, balancing his weight on one leg and looking very-much pleased with himself, marked the beginning of the Golden Age of Greek art. 

Kritios Boy, Attica, Greece, ca. 480 B.C.

The creation of the Kritios Boy also coincided with rise of democratic government in Athens, where this magnificent statue posed, before the invading Persians knocked him off his pedestal in 480 B.C. Significantly, the Athenians did not try to repair the Kritios Boy. Instead, they commissioned new statues full of motion and dynamism. The lost-wax method of casting bronze statues was a preferred medium for this vigorous democratic art form.

Making bronze statues presented a whole new set of challenges, solutions and new problems which Woodford cogently explores. But the chief problem with a bronze statue, like silver plate and gold jewelry, is that its value in times of economic crisis and war made it a prime target for melting and recasting into coinage.

Back in 2015, the Getty Museum and the National Gallery of Art in Washington D.C. mounted Power and Pathos, a sensational exhibition of surviving bronze statues from both Greece and Rome. These ranged from portrait busts of Hellenistic kings and Roman consuls, their brows furrowed by affairs of state, to the delightful Dancing Faun, a Roman copy of a famous third century B.C. Greek original.

Dancing Faun, Roman copy of a Greek statue, 3rd Century B.C.

Most of the great bronze statues of antiquity did not share the good fortune of Dancing Faun. We only know Myron's incredible Discobolus or Discus-thrower from Roman marble copies. Several versions of the marble Discobolus survived but, rather comically, there was a dispute over how to position the severed-head of the British Museum's copy. The version displayed in Italy's National Roman Museum, (which introduces this review) shows it correctly.

Ancient bronzes that did survive the smelting furnace were buried or lost at sea. Roman ships, weighed down with the loot from conquered Greek cities often sank en route to Italy. The discovery of iconic bronze statues like the Zeus of Artemisium has transformed our knowledge of ancient art and science. 

For the recovery of ancient painting, the "blessings" of adversity also held true. Without the horrific destruction of Pompeii in 79 A.D., we would know little indeed about Greek and Roman painting. Likewise, the resilience of Greek ceramic vessels, whether whole or in shards, preserved the basics of this major form of ancient creative expression.

Bedroom from the Villa of P. Fannius Synistor at Boscoreale, ca. 50–40 B.C.

Woodford's pattern of artistic development - change, emergence of a problem, solution of that problem and emergence of another - does not hold true for ancient painting. Too little has survived for us to follow the "march of progress" which Woodford traces so brilliantly in her discussion of the Kouros statues.

Change and experimentation certainly characterized Greek vase painting. But it cannot be asserted that the later red-figure method is de facto superior to black-figure. The artist known as the Berlin Painter was a master of both techniques. His signature work, which gives him his modern name, is a red-figure depiction of a satyr and the god Mercury. It is a great work of art because the Berlin Artist was a great vase painter. The same holds true for Exekias.

Exekias, Achilles and Ajax Playing a Board Game, Attica, Greece, 540-530 B.C.

Exekias painted a scene from the Trojan War showing Achilles and Ajax relaxing from the carnage by playing a board game. Created around 540 B.C., this superlative black-figure painting was never surpassed - and rarely matched - by red-figure painting, though the Berlin Painter as his best was certainly Exekias' equal. This stunning work of art combines the primal vigor of Archaic era art with a haunting, psychological probity that pulls the viewer into the scene. 

With their shields framing the action, Achilles and Ajax lean forward to concentrate on the game board. Their muscles are relaxed, but their brains are fully engaged. Here we see the Greek mind at work in all of its restless, competitive striving. The intellectual force that would lead to the fifth century Golden Age is at "play" here, not just two warriors. 

By contrast, Woodford shows a later amphora decorated with the same scene. Amazingly, the game between Achilles and Ajax appears on both sides of the vase, one done in black-figure, the other in red-figure. Neither come close to Exekias' powerful handling. 

Unknown Artist, Achilles and Ajax Playing a Board Game, 525-520 B.C.

It's a case of "too much." Too much stylization, too many special-effects.  Like a master film maker, Exekias clears the deck and lets the story draw the viewer in. Twenty-five centuries have passed and the game keeps going, engaging us with the same intensity as it does for Achilles and Ajax.

Woodford concludes Greek and Roman Art with a brief, but perceptive, survey of art among the non-Greek inhabitants of Egypt and Rome's other provinces. In the case of Egypt, the "fortunate survival" scenario reoccurs, as with Pompeii. In Egypt, the dry, arid conditions preserved paintings, fabric art, documents and much else which otherwise perished in Greece and Italy.

Mummy-portrait from Rubaiyat, Egypt, ca.160-170  A.D.

Of these "survivors," the mummy portraits from Egypt, created at the height of Rome's rule, are the most important. Painted with the encaustic wax technique, the best of these memorial portraits show Greek technique, Roman pragmatic realism and Egyptian concern for the afterlife seamlessly combined in tour-de-force masterpieces.

The same accolades apply to Woodford and her wonderful book. I wish she could have found room to discuss the role of coins in the diffusion of art throughout the Greco-Roman world. This topic would certainly make for another, much-needed volume in the Thames and Hudson's Art Essentials and Woodford would be the perfect guide.

For the time being, I am confronted with the happy "hardship" of finding room for Woodford's Greek and Roman Art among the "essentials" on my bedside bookshelf. It's going to be a tight squeeze, but I will definitely be placing this superb volume in the company of my battered copy of Kenneth Clark's Civilization and other "classics."

 ***
Text: Copyright of Ed Voves, all rights reserved                                                                 Book cover and page-spread images, courtesy of Thames & Hudson, Publishers. 


Introductory Image:
Roman-era copy of Myron's Discobolus or Discus-thrower,  Marble: 125 cm. (49 1/4 in.)  National Roman Museum, Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome, Italy

Standing figure of Tjayasetimu, Egypt, 26th Dynasty, ca. 664-525 B.C. Limestone: 125  x  32 cm. British Museum # EA1682 © The Trustees of the British Museum

Marble Statue of a Kouros (Youth), Attica, Greece, ca. 590–580 B.C. Attica, Greece. Marble: 76 5/8 × 20 5/16 × 24 7/8 in. (194.6 × 51.6 × 63.2 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art. Fletcher Fund, 1932. # 32.11.1 © Metropolitan Museum of Art

Kritios Boy, Attica, Greece, ca. 480 B.C.  Marble:  86 cm. (33 1/4 inches) height. Acropolis Museum, Athens, Greece. University of Michigan open access images, aict GS036 full 1336 2948 0 default

Dancing Faun, Roman copy of a Greek statue, 3rd Century B.C. Bronze: 71 cm. (28 in.) height. National Archaeological Museum, Naples, Italy

Cubiculum (bedroom) from the Villa of P. Fannius Synistor at Boscoreale, ca. 50–40 B.C. Fresco: 8 ft. 8 1/2 in. × 10 ft. 11 1/2 in. × 19 ft. 1 7/8 in. (265.4 × 334 × 583.9 cm) Metropolitan Museum of Art. Rogers Fund, 1903. # 03.14.13a–g © Metropolitan Museum of Art

Exekias, Achilles and Ajax Playing a Board Game. Attica, Greece, 540-530 B.C. Black-figure painted amphora: 61 cm. (24 inches) height, diameter at mouth 27.8 cm. Vatican Museum, Rome. Cat. 16757.  

Unknown Artist, Achilles and Ajax Playing a Board Game, 525-520 B.C. Black-figure painted amphora, red-figure on reverse: 55.5 cm. (21 1/8 inches) height. Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Mummy-portrait from Rubaiyat, Egypt, ca.160-170  A.D. Leaf-gilded and encaustic paint on lime wood: 44.4 x 16 cm. (17 1/2 x 6 1/4 in.) British Museum. #1939,0324.211 © The Trustees of the British Museum