Great art historians provide essays on classical sculpture
in this excellent study. Elizabeth Bartman begins with an essay on just that;
the beginning. She chronicles the origin of where the art form began, and the
time when wealthy Italians began collecting the art of ancient Rome. All
scholars will accept that serious collecting of Roman sculpture began in the
Renaissance, but Bartman tells of how the bas reliefs were the most popular.
The connoisseurs were after any kind of Roman art that would tell them about
the history, and it was the reliefs, on sarcophagi and the triumphal arches,
that told the story of Rome’s history. Though she doesn’t mention it, Trajan’s
Column was a popular artefact for scholars, thanks to its numerous depictions of
war. Thanks to its height, most of it was spared from the defacement at the
hands of the Christians, for nobody could reach the higher reliefs in order to
destroy them. Someone did, however, manage to remove the statue at the top and
replace it with one of St. Peter, leaving the original of Trajan to be lost to
history.
One thing that Bartman discusses, which I have waited years
to read about, is why the Popes of the Middle Ages tolerated the pagan symbols.
For some reason, the Popes of the Renaissance era didn’t object to statues of
Zeus, Medusa, and Poseidon, whereas earlier Popes had Roman arches and reliefs
defaced. Perhaps these Popes loved art? Were they enlightened by Greek scholars
who fled Constantinople after the Turkish conquest?
Bartman’s essay is about the origins of the study of classical
sculpture, but Jerry Podany, of the Getty Institute, discusses the early
conservation of the artifacts. For starters, the wealthy Italians who displayed
the statues in their villas and palaces can be credited with saving them. Today
we’d say “they plundered archeological sites” and accuse them of theft, but in
their day, that was the only conservation available. If the Medici family hadn’t
desired ancient sculptures for their gardens, the marble would’ve ended up
being ground into plaster. Most of the statues they acquired were broken, so
they would hire sculptors to create replacement limbs out of marble and
plaster, which were then stuck on. Today we can’t be sure of the accuracy of
these medieval restorers, but we must credit them with drawing attention to
these classical masterpieces. Few ancient marbles, save for those on the
Parthenon, were found intact, so the restorer had to use his imagination. As
for bronze statues, they were rarely found intact, as bronze was valuable and
frequently recycled.
Collecting in America gets a small chapter, and not
surprising, given that the US patrons of the arts weren’t especially fond of
Europe. While the British nobility had classical educations, and even gone on
the famous Grand Tour, most American millionaires didn’t care much for
classical art. Andrew Carnegie, for instance, had his home decorated by
American artists, who sculpted and painted American wildlife. For a US
millionaire, Audubon’s Birds of America
were more desirable than marble statue of Zeus. Not mentioned in the book is The
Metropolitan Museum’s sculpture collection, which eventually turned out to be
full of junk. In the 1880’s, the museum
hired an Italian general (and Civil War veteran) Luigi Palma di Cesnola as its
curator for antiquities, and he proceeded to stuff the galleries with
randomly-collected artefacts from Kurion. Even in the 1880’s, there were
debates as to whether his “digs” were in fact looting, and the restorations,
which he directed, were considered inaccurate even then. He was merely an
amateur archeologist, with no experience, study, or training, but he was an
Italian, so to the Americans, he was an expert. When the wing was reopened in
2006, some of the marbles he brought to New York were now thought to be scraps
from art schools of the time. The professor must’ve taken his students’
homework, thrown it in a box, and said “here General Palma, ancient marble feet
and hands.” This Italian “genius” couldn’t tell the difference!
One of the best
essays in this book is by Bjorn Ewald, with his treatise on Roman sarcophagi.
While the bas reliefs depict war, and the statues depict Roman gods, the burial
boxes tell you about the regular people. You’ll quickly learn what they wore,
what they did, how they lived, and what class they belonged to. Togas and
hairstyles depict the social class, while different symbols show the kinds of
jobs they had. Women are usually depicted in luxurious poses, probably because
a woman who could afford a stone sarcophagus would’ve been a very wealthy
woman! Wreaths symbolize the patrician class, grapes, associated with Bacchus
and Dionysus, symbolize luxury and wealth. Poppies, found on some marble funeral
sculptures, symbolize freedom from pain.
This is a brilliant work, using Roman sculpture as a primary
source for studying history. However, I would like to have read some discussion
on Giovanni Battisti Piranisi, whose etchings depict the Roman ruins
half-buried in the earth. The Roman Catacombs are not mentioned, probably
because no sculptures are found there. The Catacombs are, however, a great
source of frescoes depicting early Christianity. Perhaps we’ll see another book
like this, about Roman paintings?
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