Download PDF | (Routledge handbooks) Robin Margaret Jensen, Mark D. Ellison - The Routledge handbook of early Christian art-Routledge (2018).
423 Pages
THE ROUTLEDGE HANDBOOK OF EARLY CHRISTIAN ART
Combining coverage of the major media of early Christian art and a selection of key themes and issues, this volume of contributions by a galaxy of experts is a treasure-trove for the study of its specific subject and also for wider historical work on early Christianity. Those new to the visual culture of early Christianity will find this a competent guide, and students and scholars of early Christian art also will find here a resource to consult on many matters.
Larry Hurtado, University of Edinburgh, UK
The Routledge Handbook of Early Christian Art surveys a broad spectrum of Christian art produced from the late second through the sixth centuries. The first part of the book opens with a general survey of the subject and then presents fifteen essays that discuss specific media of visual art—catacomb paintings, sculpture, mosaics, gold glass, gems, reliquaries, ceramics, icons, ivories, textiles, silver, and illuminated manuscripts. Each is written by a noted expert in the field. The second part of the book takes up themes relevant to the study of early Christian art. These seven chapters consider the ritual practices in decorated spaces, the emergence of images of Christ’s Passion and miracles, the functions of Christian secular portraits, the exemplary mosaics of Ravenna, the early modern history of Christian art and archaeology studies, and further reflection on this field called “early Christian art.” Each of the volume’s chapters includes photographs of many of the objects discussed, plus bibliographic notes and recommendations for further reading.
The result is an invaluable introduction to and appraisal of the art that developed out of the spread of Christianity through the late antique world. Undergraduate and graduate students of late classical, early Christian, and Byzantine culture, religion, or art will find it an accessible and insightful orientation to the field. Additionally, professional academics, archivists, and curators working in these areas will also find it valuable as a resource for their own research, as well as a textbook or reference work for their students.
Robin M. Jensen is the Patrick O’Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame, USA, and a member of the faculty of Medieval Institute and the Department of Art, Art History, and Design. Her published work explores the intersection of early Christian iconography, ecclesial architecture, ritual practices, and theological discourse.
Mark D. Ellison is an associate professor in the Department of Ancient Scripture at Brigham Young University, USA. He received a PhD and MA from Vanderbilt University, USA, in Early Christianity and Early Christian Art, and an MA from the University of South Florida, USA, in Religious Studies (Biblical Archaeology).
CONTRIBUTORS
Jennifer L. Ball is Associate Professor at The City University of New York, USA, specializing in art of the Byzantine, Western Medieval and Islamic worlds, especially focusing on portraits, dress and textiles. Her several publications on the subject include Byzantine Dress: Representations of Eighth- to Twelfth-Century Secular Dress in Painting (2005).
Niamh Bhalla has been an Associate Lecturer at The Courtauld Institute of Art in London, UK, since 2011, teaching courses on the transformation of art in Late Antiquity and the body in western art of the Middle Ages. She is also a visiting lecturer on the MA program Byzantium and it Rivals. Her research focuses on using contemporary theory to open up fresh insights into how classical, byzantine and medieval images were experienced. She explores themes such as space, memory, the body and gender in relation to the experience of visual imagery. Niamh has considerable teaching experience at both undergraduate and postgraduate level and she is also the research assistant and project coordinator for the Getty-supported project, Crossing Frontiers: Christians and Muslims and their art in Eastern Anatolia and the Caucasus at the Courtauld Institute.
Robert Couzin, AB (1967), AM (1968) University of Chicago; BCL (1972) McGill University Faculty of Law. After practicing law for several decades, he turned to art history: MA (2008), PhD (2013) University of Toronto. Second career publications include The Traditio Legis: Anatomy of an Image (2015), The Handedness of Historiated Spiral Columns (2017), and Uncircumcision in Early Christian Art (forthcoming, 2018).
Jutta Dresken-Weiland, PhD 1990 in Classical Archaeology; travel scholarship of the German Archaeological Institute 1991-1992; from 1990-1996 at the German Archaeological Institute in Rome. Post-doctoral degree in “Christian Archaeology and History of Byzantine Art” in 2002 at the Georg August-Universitat Gottingen, Germany, since 2009 auferplanmafige Professorin (adjunct professor) there. Since 2015 she has been responsible for the sector archaeology at the publishing house Schnell & Steiner in Regensburg, Germany.
Mark D. Ellison is an Associate Professor in the Department of Ancient Scripture at Brigham Young University, USA. He received a PhD and MA from Vanderbilt University, USA, in Early Christianity and Early Christian Art, and an MA from the University of South Florida, USA, in Religious Studies (Biblical Archaeology). As part of his research on intersections of early Christian texts, artifacts, iconography, and practices, his dissertation Visualizing Christian Marriage in the Roman World (2017) examined the portraiture of married Christians in thirdand fourth-century visual art.
Felicity Harley-McGowan is an historian of art whose research centres on the origins and development of Christian iconography within the visual culture of Roman Late Antiquity. She currently teaches at Yale University, USA, and is a Research Associate in Yale’s Institute of Sacred Music.
John J. Herrmann, Jr. is Curator of Classical Art, Emeritus, Museum of Fine Arts, Boston. He has excavated in Italy, collaborated with scientists in the study of marble, published on ceramics of all kinds, and co-authored Pottery, Pavements, and Paradise with Annewies van den Hoek (2013).
Annewies van den Hoek taught at Harvard University, USA, and is now retired. She wrote a monograph on Clement of Alexandria and Philo (1988), a Greek text edition of Clement’s Stromateis IV (2001), and co-authored with John Herrmann: Pottery, Pavements, and Paradise (2013).
Heidi J. Hornik is Professor of Renaissance and Baroque Art History at Baylor University. Author of Michele Tosini and the Ghirlandaio Workshop in Cinquecento Florence, she also coauthored a three-volume interdisciplinary work on art and theology with Mikael C. Parsons, Illuminating Luke. Their recent project, Acts of the Apostles Through the Centuries, appeared in the Blackwell Bible Commentaries. Hornik’s newest project, The Art of Christian Reflection, was completed while a visiting scholar at Harvard University.
Janet Huskinson has been a Visiting Fellow in Classical Studies at the Open University, UK, since her retirement from the post of Reader there. Her main research has been in private art of the western Roman empire during the third and fourth centuries, especially in subjects such as decorating marble sarcophagi, conventional and Christian.
Lee M. Jefferson is the NEH Associate Professor of Religion at Centre College, USA. He has authored Christ the Miracle Worker in Early Christian Art (2014), and co-edited The Art of Empire: Christian Art in Its Imperial Context (2015).
Robin M. Jensen is the Patrick O’Brien Professor of Theology at the University of Notre Dame, USA, and a member of the faculty of Medieval Institute and the Department of Art, Art History, and Design. Her published work explores the intersection of early Christian iconography, ecclesial architecture, ritual practices, and theological discourse.
Guntram Koch is an expert in Classical and Christian Archaeology. He was Professor of Christian Archaeology and Byzantine Art History in the Faculty of Theology at the University of Marburg, Germany (retired, 2006). Previously he was a professor at the University of Gottingen, Germany. He has authored numerous essays and monographs, including Friichristliche Sarkophage (Early Christian Sarcophagi [2000]).
Ruth Leader-Newby is an independent scholar who is a recognized authority on late antique silver. She has published widely on the subject, including her 2004 book Silver and Society in Late Antiquity.
Sean V. Leatherbury is Assistant Professor of Ancient Art & Culture at Bowling Green State University, USA. His research focuses on late antique art, particularly on mosaics in the eastern Mediterranean, word-image relations, and the material culture of votive dedication.
Katherine Marsengill received her PhD from Princeton University. She is the author of Portrait and Icon: Between Reality and Spirituality in Byzantine Art (2013) and has published articles on icons, spiritualized portraiture, early Christian attitudes about sculpture, and the Christian imperial cult.
Deborah Mauskopf Deliyannis is Associate Professor of History at Indiana University. Her research focuses on the intersections of bishops, historiography, and church-building. She is the author of Ravenna in Late Antiquity (2010), and a co-author of Fifty Early Medieval Things (2018).
Michael Peppard is Associate Professor of Theology at Fordham University in New York, USA. His most recent book is The World’s Oldest Church: Bible, Art, and Ritual at DuraEuropos, Syria (2016).
Jeffrey Spier is Senior Curator of Antiquities at the J. Paul Getty Museum in Los Angeles, USA. He has published widely on Greek, Roman, and Byzantine jewelry and other luxury objects, as well as on ancient magical amulets.
Rina Talgam is Associate Professor of Art History at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Israel. She researches the art of the Middle East from the Hellenistic period to the beginning of the Abbasid period and is author of Mosaics of Faith: Floors of Pagans, Jews, Samaritans, Christians, and Muslims in the Holy Land (2014).
Erik Thuno is Professor of Medieval Art in the Department of Art History at Rutgers, The State University of New Jersey, USA. His books and articles focus on a variety of topics ranging from reliquaries, monumental decorations in fresco and mosaic, icons and altar decorations in places such as Italy, Greece, and the South Caucasus region.
Dorothy Verkerk is an Associate Professor of Art History at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, USA, and is the Whitton Fellow (2016) at the Institute for Arts and Humanities. She has published on early Christian manuscripts, sarcophagi and the Irish high crosses.
Susan Walker is Honorary Curator and former Keeper of Antiquities at the Ashmolean Museum, and Emerita Fellow of Wolfson College, University of Oxford, both in the UK. She recently completed Saints and Salvation: Charles Wilshere’s Collection of Gold-Glass, Sarcophagi and Inscriptions from Rome and Southern Italy, written with Sean Leatherbury and David Rini.
Norbert Zimmermann is Scientific Director at the German Archaeological Institute at Rome, Italy. He has studied Christian Archaeology, Art History, and Italian Philology at Bonn, Rome, and Munich. From 1998 to 2014 he was researcher at the Institute for the Study of Ancient Culture, Austrian Academy of Sciences, and is a member of the Austrian excavation team at Ephesus. His main field of interest is the cultural changes between antiquity and the Middle Ages. His research focuses on wall paintings, residential architecture, and sepulchral art. He has published, among other things, the monograph Werkstattgruppen rémischer Katakombenmalerei (2002), and conducted the Austrian sciences fund (FWF) START-project on the Domitilla catacomb in Rome.
FOREWORD
In recent decades, students of early Christianity have become more and more interested in incorporating the study of visual art into their research, teaching, and writing. Material culture has come to be appreciated as a rich resource for a better understanding of lived religion in all times and places, and no less so for the complex and diverse practice of Christianity in the Greco-Roman world. At the same time, both art historians and historians of religion in Late Antiquity now recognize that Christianity emerged within pre-existing cultures with established artistic forms, iconographic prototypes, and manufacturing techniques that it drew upon, adapted, and transformed as it gradually developed its own distinctive iconographic vocabulary. Thus, recent debates over questions of cultural continuity and change among Christians, Jews, and traditional polytheists are relevant to any discussion of these objects. Similarly, scholars in recent years have come to reassess the so-called anti-classical styles of early Christian artworks, granting them their own aesthetic value while reevaluating the gradual return of mythological figures and classical styles at the end of the fourth century.
However, while the academic study of early Christianity has become more attuned to the value of including non-documentary evidence, the training of scholars in the field has remained focused predominately on the analysis of surviving texts, particularly texts that tend to be associated more with the development of Christian dogma, discipline, and ecclesiology than with the nature of the wider community’s lived experience of the faith. The desire of many of these same scholars to expand their investigation into material manifestations of early Christian belief and practice created a need for a handbook to the basic corpus of early Christian artifacts—one that would offer introductions to the variety of objects, the manner of their fabrication, issues of style, and basic visual content, along with overarching essays on fundamental problems regarding influences, contexts, and categorization. In addition to matters touching upon formal art historical analysis, such a handbook also needed to attend to the theological, liturgical, and exegetical significance of these objects, thus not losing sight of their place in the formation and transmission of beliefs, values, and religious identity. Beyond the provision of a basic overview of the primary material, this work also includes helpful lists of resources for further study.
This book attempts to meet these needs. Part I opens with a general survey of the subject and then presents fifteen essays, each of which considers one traditionally identified category of early Christian art. The first of these chapters discusses the earliest acknowledged examples of Christian painting in the Roman catacombs, and the chapters continue through sarcophagus reliefs, freestanding sculpture, mosaics, gold glasses, ceramics, engraved gems, panel paintings, ivories, textiles, silver, and illuminated manuscripts. As these essays demonstrate, early Christian art was produced for burial, ecclesiastical, and domestic contexts, and while rightly considered a subset of late antique Roman art, possesses a distinctive character and purpose. Part II takes up themes relevant to the study of early Christian art. These chapters consider the ritual practices in decorated spaces, the emergence of images of Christ’s passion and miracles, the functions of Christian secular portraits, and the exemplary mosaics of Ravenna. The first of two concluding essays discusses the early modern history of Christian art and archaeology studies, while the second invites further reflection on this field of study, and correctly problematizes the book’s titular terminology of “early,” “Christian,” and “art.”
The editors are first of all grateful to all the authors who agreed to contribute their expertise and effort to produce this volume. They are the heart of this project and we are fortunate to count them all as colleagues. We also wish to thank our editors at Taylor and Francis, Elizabeth Rasch and Amy Davis-Poynter, who were both supportive and patient with the time and trouble involved in compiling both essays and images. We are likewise grateful to all those who assisted us with acquiring the illustrations, the photographers (and authors) who generously supplied them, the staff of Art Resource, and the rights and reproductions departments of museums around the world. We also acknowledge the financial and moral support of the University of Notre Dame, Vanderbilt University, and Brigham Young University. Finally, we would like to thank Robert McFadden for his proofreading and correction of style after the essays were initially edited for publication, and Jennifer McDaniel, Suzy Bills, McCall Kelson, and Scarlett Lindsay for their help preparing the index.
Robin M. Jensen and Mark D. Ellison
INTRODUCTION
Early Christian art
Robin M. Jensen
Historians generally agree that first- and second-century Christians left behind few material artifacts that historians could recognize as specifically theirs. Adherents to this new faith evidently began to decorate their tombs, places of worship, and even small domestic objects with iconography that reflected their distinct religious identity only in the late second or early third century. Scholars have offered various explanations for this seemingly late emergence of Christian pictorial art. Some suggest that Christians did not possess the numbers, social status, or economic resources to commission objects that depicted scenes from their own sacred stories or reflected their particular beliefs about God, salvation, or the afterlife.' Others, arguing for some degree of common culture as well as a more fluid set of religious identities in Late Antiquity, argue that Christian art may be a misnomer when historians too hastily try to distinguish among artifacts probably produced in common workshops for various religious groups.
Thus, they see more continuity than discontinuity in the material record. Recently, one scholar even proposed that the supposed absence of Christian art in the first centuries is resolved by regarding Christian art as Jewish art.’ An older, but still circulating, argument argues that Christians regarded the pictorial arts and divine images of their polytheistic neighbors as idols and, faithfully obedient to the prohibition of graven images in the Mosaic Law, avoided making or possessing any of their own.* Historians have now largely repudiated this by demonstrating that while ancient Christians may have disapproved of images or statues of the Greco-Roman gods (and the honors bestowed upon them), they did not reject representational art as such.? Moreover, the little surviving documentary evidence for critique of images takes aim primarily at practices rather than at objects, denouncing only idolatrous reverence for created things of nature or human craft, while presuming that Christians might properly make and own images. For example, Clement of Alexandria, one of the most severe critics of such misplaced veneration around the turn of the third century, nevertheless made concrete suggestions for what Christians should engrave on their signet rings:
And let our seals be either a dove, or a fish, or a ship scudding before the wind, or a musical lyre, which Polycrates used, or a ship’s anchor, which Seleucus got engraved as a device; and if there be one fishing, he will remember the apostle, and the children drawn out of the water. For we are not to delineate the faces of idols, we who are prohibited to cleave to them; nor a sword, nor a bow, following as we do, peace; nor drinking-cups, being temperate.
Clement’s suggestions of images deemed appropriate for Christian seals suggests that, in fact, Christians did wish to differentiate themselves from their non-Christian neighbors, to some extent through the images they chose to decorate items they used in their daily life. Consequently, scholars are able to classify certain motifs as Christian, whether or not they were made for or used exclusively by self-identified members of that group. Notably, many rings or gems have survived that display such designs (Figure 9.4).’ Hence, much early Christian art usually is demarcated by its subject matter—in other words that it bears what could be regarded as typically Christian symbols or biblical narrative scenes (both Old and New Testament). However, because other religious groups might have used similar iconographic conventions and Jews might also have chosen to represent certain biblical subjects, the setting or context of these objects can be decisive, as well as their overall composition and practical function. Consequently, historians have urged that clearly defined classifications can be dangerous. What looks like a Good Shepherd to one set of eyes could be regarded as a representation of Hermes as the ram bearer to another. An image of Sol Invictus, Apollo, or Orpheus could be adapted to a Christian iconographic purpose in order to relay the idea of Christ as bringer of light into the world or a tamer of souls, without necessarily verging on religious syncretism.* This is especially vivid in a late third- or early fourth-century mosaic of Christ in the guise of the sun god found in the Vatican necropolis (Figure 6.1).
Corresponding to Christian apologists who elucidated the faith for their learned audiences by reference to accepted philosophical ideals or who drew upon the stories of the gods for the sake of comparison in words, artisans likewise used the pictorial vocabulary of their surrounding culture, especially when relaying an aspect of their Savior or tenet of faith that had resonance with pre-Christian myths.’ This is not a case of syncretism so much as the effective deployment of images for communicating meaning in visual rather than verbal language. Yet, the language is not necessarily precise, insofar as it could convey different messages to different viewers, depending on attitude, expectations, socialization, or experience. This may be its most characteristic and—depending on one’s point of view—its most valuable quality.
Moreover the materials, manufacturing techniques, and even style of works classified as Christian are often quite similar to those presumed to be Jewish or polytheist objects. Motifs like the personified four seasons evidently were inoffensive enough to be acceptable for a variety of religiously identified patrons (Figure 1.1). The fact that artisans were trained similarly, and that workshops followed prevailing fashions and used the same types of tools, meant they presumably catered to different kinds of clients, most likely customizing pre-made objects as needed.'® For this reason, many art historians choose to describe early Christian art as a sub-category of Roman art.!!
Yet, while early Christian iconography often bears some similarities to non-Christian art of the same place and period, distinctions between them are not altogether absent. Early Christian wall paintings were executed in a sketchy, impressionistic style and were framed with colored borders similar to—although not usually as carefully executed as—those produced for contemporary Roman tombs and domestic interiors (Figures 2.4, 2.7, 2.9-11). Friezes carved on fourth-century stone coffins (sarcophagi) tend to display an almost random assortment of biblical characters, overlapping and often crowded onto a single panel rather than the more carefully composed reliefs of their non-Christian counterparts (Figures 3.3, 19.3, 19.7).!* Moreover, an evolution of motifs or narrative themes can be discerned. In general, Christian art proceeds from being primarily symbolic, to illustrating biblical narratives, to presenting certain dogmatic developments, and finally to embracing iconic, or portrait, types as it proceeds from domestic and funereal settings to monumental, ecclesial spaces. These distinctions in content or even style do not presuppose the existence of workshops catering exclusively to Christian clients, but they do suggest an attention to particular religious identity.
Based on stylistic analysis, it appears that a limited number of commercial workshops were the source of much early Christian art. These workshops most likely catered to private individuals and we have no evidence that either artisans or their clients were supervised by ecclesiastical officials or underwritten by church funds. Presumably patrons chose the décor of their burial places from among a stock repertoire of figures that artisans presented as samples. Many of the final programs included dedications to deceased spouses or reflections on the domestic life (and anticipated future reunion) of married Christians (Figures 20.1, 20.4, 20.10).'° The evidence for episcopal management of Christian cemeteries may have meant a certain degree of official oversight of their decoration, but it seems as likely that content and quality were entirely personal choices based on financial means and personal preferences. While surviving literary sources indicate scattered critique of certain types of pictorial subjects, no evidence supports the claim that church authorities actively regulated or censured the content or style of the iconography."
Most of the earliest extant examples of Christian visual art have come from funerary settings. They embellished the walls of the chambers of Christian catacombs (cubicula and arcosolia) and the fronts and sides of sarcophagi, as well as less pretentious illuminated epitaphs (Figure 1.2).!° These paintings and carvings survived largely because they were underground and so not as easily lost to neglect, deliberate destruction, renovation, or natural erosion. Even the gems, lamps, gold glasses, ceramic ware, or other small objects that add to the collection of artifacts were commonly found in burial contexts. In addition to that, the largest percentage of surviving evidence was found in the West, particularly in and around Rome. Unfortunately, very little that can be dated prior to the fifth or sixth century has been discovered in the eastern part of the Roman Empire. One outstanding, significant exception to both the funerary context and Western provenance of early Christian art is the Christian building discovered in Syria at the site of Dura-Europos, whose cycle of wall paintings has no exact parallel in either subject matter or style elsewhere.'® The fourth-century pavement from Hinton St Mary, with its presumed portrait of Christ (Figure 7.1) or the impressively detailed mosaic floor of a fourth-century basilica in Aquileia (Figure 1.3) are also important examples of early church decoration.
Early Christian symbols
The oldest surviving material evidence largely corroborates Clement of Alexandria’s list of appropriate iconography on Christian signet rings. Figures of doves, fish, boats, and anchors were popular signs, not only for inscribed gems but were also commonly found on early wall paintings, funerary epitaphs, sarcophagi, gilded drinking vessels and bowls, pottery lamps, and ceramic dishware (Figures 8.9, 17.3).'” Reminiscent of favorite Roman decorative motifs, early Christian tombs also displayed popular pastoral, harvesting, and maritime themes (Figure 6.2). Walls and vaults of burial chambers were adorned with painted garlands, vases of flowers, grapevines, bowls of fruit, brimming fountains, sheep and rams, doves, quail, and peacocks (Figure 1.4). Whether they had particular religious significance is difficult to know for certain but, like their appearance in Roman art, they may have been generic allusions to a safe passage to a blissful afterlife or a paradisiacal garden.'* Of course grapevines and vintaging scenes could have an eucharistic reference and shepherds with their sheep allude to the Christian flock, but such subjects might simply evoke the beauties of the earthly world and nature’s abundance. Whereas a dove could represent the Holy Spirit, it frequently appeared with an olive branch near the legend “in pace,” so it more likely symbolizes the hope for peaceful rest until the final resurrection.
While maritime scenes were popular subjects for Roman funerary art, the fish and fishermen may have had specific Christian resonance. The fish by itself could symbolize Christ, especially when joined by an acrostic based on the letters of the Greek word ichthys (fish), which fill out the title Iésous Christos Theou Huios Sotér (Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior). Fish also could represent the followers of Christ, hooked by the anchor of faith (Figure 1.5).'? Because fish also appear frequently in New Testament narratives—the calling of the disciples from their nets to become fishers of men, the miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fish, or the miraculous catch of fish at the end of John’s Gospel—fishing scenes or platters of fish may refer to particular biblical stories.
Added to these relatively generic floral and bucolic themes were regularly recurring human figures: the praying figure (orant), the shepherd, and the seated reader. The orant was frequently (but not always) depicted as a standing female with outstretched arms, upturned eyes, a long tunic, and a veiled head (Figures 1.6, 1.7, 19.6). Her (or his) posture replicates the traditional ancient prayer stance and gestures. In some instances the figure appears to be a portrait of the deceased buried nearby, but could also personify the soul, or perhaps the virtue of piety (pietas). The shepherd, usually shown as a beardless youth, wears a short tunic and boots and carries a sheep over his shoulders and may be intended to represent the biblical “Good Shepherd”
(cf. Psalm 23; John 10.1-9). The shepherd is also among the rare examples of early statues in the round (Figures 5.5—-6).”” In some instances, the shepherd appears more than once (Figure 3.2) and occasionally in an expanded pastoral setting where putti are shown milking or harvesting. Because the figure of a shepherd carrying a ram over his shoulders has an ancient pre-Christian precedent in a depiction of Hermes, the gods’ messenger and caretaking guide to the underworld, this motif could have conveyed different meanings to various viewers.
The shepherd and the orant frequently appear with a third figure: a seated reader garbed as a philosopher (Figure 1.7). Like the orant and the shepherd, this figure appeared in nonChristian funerary settings, often assumed to allude to the intellectual accomplishments of the deceased. So too, in Christian contexts, it might depict the deceased as a learned man or could have more generally alluded to Christian teaching as true philosophy. Together this trio may have been intended to personify piety, philanthropy, and love of wisdom—virtues that were not uniquely Christian—or perhaps the theological virtues of faith, hope, and charity (cf. 1 Corinthians 13.13).
An image that frequently turns up both in Christian catacomb paintings and on sarcophagus reliefs depicts five or seven diners sitting at a horseshoe-shaped table sharing a meal of bread, wine, and fish (Figure 19.6). Scholars have variously interpreted these as images of the Last Supper, the miracle of the multiplication of loaves and fish, eucharists, or agape meals.”' Yet, as almost identical versions appear frequently in non-Christian contexts, the composition cannot depict exclusively Christian rituals or refer to any single biblical narrative. Most likely, the motif alludes to funeral meals shared by the deceased’s family and friends at the tomb, and perhaps represents the wish for a happy repast in the next world. In a Christian context, the scene could evoke the celestial banquet promised by Jesus at the Last Supper (cf. Mark 14.25 and parallels), and thus bear an eschatological significance. In some examples the diners are served by female figures who bear the names Irene (peace) and Agape (love/charity), probably a further indication of the meal’s meaning. In any case, like all of these early images, they could bear multiple connotations and mean different things to different viewers.”
Biblical subjects
Throughout the third century biblical narrative scenes gradually joined the symbolic motifs described above.” Initially, a select repertoire of characters and stories from the Hebrew Scriptures significantly outnumbered those from the New Testament. Among these early subjects were depictions of Adam and Eve (shown flanking the tree with the forbidden fruit), Noah in his ark, Abraham offering his son Isaac for sacrifice, Moses striking the rock in the wilderness, Daniel in the lions’ den, the three Hebrew Youths in the fiery furnace, Jonah being swallowed and then spit up by the sea creature, and Susanna with the elders. Though no two images are completely identical, the scenes are so similar as to be easily identified as standard types. For example, Adam and Eve stand to either side of the tree that bears the forbidden fruit. They usually are shown with their hands covering their genitals and with their eyes cast down. Noah is ordinarily portrayed as an orant, standing in a small boxlike ark, its lid rising behind him (Figure 19.5). Daniel, also an orant, is represented as a heroic nude flanked by two lions (Figure 1.8).
This early preference for Hebrew Scripture subjects has caused some commentators to suggest the influence of Jewish visual art on these early Christian paintings, even to posit the existence of an illustrated Septuagint as a kind of missing link.* In addition to the problem that no such model exists, surviving examples of Jewish art show little in common, either stylistically or in subject matter, with Christian catacomb paintings. Nevertheless, even if such models could be identified, it is more reasonable to conclude that the popularity of these stories reflects their prominent place in Christian exegesis, catechesis, prayer, and preaching. For example, scholars have suggested that prayers offered for the souls of the dead were given as assurance of God’s faithful deliverance from death and danger.”
More generally, however, these images were not mere illustrations of favorite Bible stories. Christians maintained the importance of Hebrew Scriptures as part of their own story of salvation and saw these biblical characters as types that pointed to the future coming of Christ and the establishment of the church and its sacraments. In other words, they perceived prophetic meaning in these images and maintained continuity between Hebrew Scriptures and their New Testament narratives. For example, Abraham’s obedience to God’s command that he offer his son Isaac as a sacrifice was interpreted already in the New Testament as a sign of Abraham’s faith (Heb 11.8-11). Isaac—the innocent but willing victtrm—subsequently became a type of Christ (1.9).”° The story of Jonah, one of the most popular motifs for funerary art (and a rare sequential cycle), was edited down to depict only the episodes in which Jonah was tossed overboard, swallowed by a large fish, and then spit out onto dry land where he rested under a gourd vine (Figures 1.3, 1.8, 3.2, 11.2). According to the Gospels, Jesus refers to the “sign of Jonah” as a prediction of the Son of Man’s three days in the heart of the earth, just as Jonah was for three days in the belly of the fish (Matt 12.40; cf Luke 11.29).?” Daniel was imprisoned in the lions’ den and presumed dead, only to be found the next morning alive in his ostensible tomb (Dan 6.19; Figure 11.14). Early Christian exegetes understood these stories as types of Christ’s sacrificial death and resurrection, as well as indications of God’s deliverance of his faithful people from danger and death, or even allusions to Christian sacraments. The rescue of Noah from the flood prefigured Christian baptism (1 Pet 3.20), as did Moses’ striking of the rock from which a spring of water emerged to slake the wandering Israelites’ thirst.
These themes, which appeared on tomb walls as well as on small personal objects, also evidently found their way into worship spaces. The wall paintings found in the Christian building at Dura-Europos also demonstrate the linking of biblical narratives with baptismal interpretation. They include depictions of Jesus healing the paralytic (19.1), Jesus walking on the water, and possibly the Samaritan woman at the well. In this instance, the decoration of the space has an immediate resonance with the activities taking place within it and allows what one commentator has called a “ritual-centered visuality” that attends to the ways imagery, environment, and events interact in the expression of meaning and purpose.”*
By the late third and early fourth centuries, New Testament Gospel scenes began to appear alongside these Hebrew Scripture narratives. One of the earliest was the portrayal of John the Baptist baptizing a small, nude Jesus (Figures 1.7, 19.2, 19.6). More scenes from Jesus’s ministry gradually appeared on tomb walls and sarcophagus reliefs, especially representations of Jesus healing the paralytic, the woman with the issue of blood, and the man born blind (Figure 19.5). Other popular compositions included the adoration of the magi, and Jesus raising Lazarus, meeting the Samaritan woman at the well, multiplying the loaves and fish, and changing water to wine (Figures 2.2—4, 19.3, 19.6, 19.8). Depictions of Jesus performing miracles such as raising Lazarus generally show him wielding a staff, a possible reference to the authority of Moses or the priestly-assigned power of Aaron (Figures 19.7, 19.10).”
Additional Old Testament subjects appeared in the fourth century, including some still unique depictions of stories from the Joseph cycle found in the Via Latina catacomb. Besides these stories, this catacomb, which also had wall paintings depicting pagan gods, contained representations of Abraham entertaining his three angelic guests and of Moses and the Israelites crossing the Red Sea—tepresentations that also began to be carved on sarcophagus reliefs. Other previously unknown images that appeared on sarcophagi included depictions of the Trinity creating Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel presenting their sacrifices to God, Elijah’s ascent to heaven, Jesus entering Jerusalem mounted on a donkey (Figure 19.4), and Jesus (in the guise of Ezekiel) raising the dead.
The book of Acts inspired an image of Peter’s arrest, which was frequently juxtaposed with an image of the saint striking a rock to baptize his Roman jailers, an image that has a surviving textual parallel in a later apocryphal source, the Acts of Peter. Clearly based on an earlier representation of Moses striking the rock, this iconographic transformation indicates the important role of Peter as a “new Moses” or the rock on which Jesus would found his church (cf. Matthew 16.18). At the same time, allusions to Peter’s denial are also evident in the appearance of a rooster, often near his feet (Figure 19.3). During this period of innovation in iconography, compositions often became more complex, and the quality of technique, workmanship, and materials improved. One famous example, the Junius Bassus sarcophagus, shows extraordinary skill and sophistication, combining biblical narrative scenes like the fall of Adam and Eve, Abraham ’s offering of Isaac, Daniel, and Jesus entering Jerusalem, with an early depiction of the Jesus before Pilate, the martyrdoms of Peter and Paul, and the ascended and enthroned Christ giving the law to these same two—Rome’s traditional founding apostles (Figure 18.5).
Given its ubiquity in later Christian art, depictions of Christ’s crucifixion are notably absent from Christian art prior to the early fifth century, and then still rare until the sixth century and later. A small group of early gems engraved with crucifixion images has been hypothetically dated as early as the late third or early fourth century, but beyond those are only two fifth-century examples, one a small panel of the carved wooden doors of Rome’s basilica of Santa Sabina (dated to ca. 420) that depicts Christ between the two thieves, and the other one of the sides of a small ivory box or reliquary casket that shows Christ with the Virgin and Beloved Disciple (Figures 18.9—-10). None of these examples shows Christ as suffering, but rather as open-eyed and alive upon his cross.*”
Dogmatic and imperial motifs
By the mid-fourth century, the biblical narrative scenes of Old Testament characters and Jesus’ miracles were joined by more dogmatically oriented and imperially influenced subjects. Some of this evolution may reflect the contemporary debates over the nature of the Trinity or the person and work of Christ, but the increasing prosperity and security of the Church during the fourth century must have contributed as well. Images of Jesus as a teacher surrounded by his apostles show up in catacomb paintings (Figure 2.8), sarcophagus reliefs (Figure 20.10), and even later fourth-century mosaic programs (Figure 1.9). Portraits of Christ, the apostles, and other saints also began to appear with more regularity, often as devotional images without specific narrative contexts (Figures 8.11-12, 12.10).°*' Their tombs became sites for pilgrimage, their physical remains became objects of veneration, often inserted into elaborately decorated containers made from precious metals or studded with gems (Figures 10.1, 10.6, 10.9).
Many of these new types of compositions began to appear soon after Emperor Constantine I’s rise to power, the so-called Peace of the Church, and the imperial patronage of the Christian faith, which included the construction of major basilicas and shrines in Rome, Palestine, and Constantinople. While lay clients were probably the primary clients of workshops that produced funerary art, the development of new motifs seem to reflect the rising prestige of the Christian religion following the emperor’s conversion to the faith. At the same time, iconographic themes and artistic styles from the imperial court influenced the decoration of the new church buildings, which displayed lavish mosaic decoration on walls and apses, as well as carved capitals, and embellished liturgical objects made from precious metals and ivory, much of this construction underwritten by the imperial family (Figures 13.3—4).*°
For example, among the many gifts that Constantine donated to his first Roman basilica— now known as Saint John Lateran but originally called simply the Constantinian Basilica—was a hammered silver fastigium (a pediment supported by columns) that displayed a life-size seated image of Christ accompanied by silver statues of the twelve apostles and four spear-carrying angels. In addition to these impressive (and heavy) silver figures, the pediment supported gold and silver lamps and wreaths. The emperor furnished that basilica’s baptistery with a statue of a lamb in solid gold, almost life-sized silver representations of Christ and John the Baptist, and seven silver stags.** Other objects of gold and silver, from candle stands to altars, exhibit an appreciation for fine craft, a love of luxury, and a desire to give precious donations to the church, sometimes inscribed as personal memorial gifts (Figures 15.3-4). By the end of the fourth century luxury objects of ivory and silver began to be made for private individuals, and these often showed a combination of Christian and mythological motifs—an indication that the ancient gods and their stories had not been completely eclipsed as subjects for visual art (Figure 15.6).
Along with objects of ivory, silver, and gold, were probably less costly and certainly less enduring textiles that included items of clothing as well as sanctuary curtains and altar cloths, mainly made from wool, linen, and silk. Because of their fragility, they mostly survive in fragments and come predominately from dry climates such as Egypt. These woven objects displayed colorful images of biblical characters, saints, and crosses, as well as less animals, flowers, and geometric patterns.** One of the most impressive examples is a tapestry icon of the Virgin and Child now in the Cleveland Museum of Art (Figure 14.8). Along with these personal objects are small souvenirs, purchased by pilgrims to the holy sites, especially in Palestine, Syria, and Egypt. Often clay or pewter ampullae that were designed to contain blessed oil or perhaps consecrated soil, they were stamped with the figures of saints or biblical scenes to remind travelers of the places they visited along their journeys (Figures 10.8, 11.15).
Many of these compositions represented Jesus as the new lawgiver, assuming the role of Moses, conveying a scroll to the holy apostles, Peter and Paul (Figures 4.6, 18.5, 20.10).°° He also appears as the enthroned heavenly sovereign (Figure 6.5). Scholars often have described this change of emphasis—from Jesus as healer or miracle worker to Jesus as enthroned king—as the adaption of imperial iconography. However, now depicted as thickly bearded rather than youthful, seated on a jeweled throne rather than a folding curule chair, and garbed in resplendent gold and purple robes rather than simple tunic and pallium, Christ appears more like a cosmic king of kings than a rival for the earthly emperor.*” Even as the references to the passion began to make their appearance in visual art, the cross was first displayed without the body, as a symbol of his overcoming death. As it is surmounted by a wreath and christogram, an image modeled after the emperor’s own emblem of military conquest, it bears allusions to imperial triumph while being adapted to convey the assurance of divine victory (Figure 18.6).°**
The emperor’s example inspired a church building boom across the Roman world. As elite and wealthy Romans joined the faith, they often redirected their wealth from sponsoring civic projects to generously endowing ecclesiastical foundations. These structures were adorned with magnificent mosaics on floors and walls, and furnished with elegantly crafted objects. The official function of these structures meant that their design and decoration were most likely supervised by church officials rather than lay or even imperial sponsors, some of whom would have underwritten the projects from their own funds.
The application of colored small tesserae to church walls and vaults was a technical innovation during this period.” The image placed in the apse replaced the cult statue (or imperial portrait) that would have been there in pre-Christian basilicas and became a focus for the liturgy (Figure 6.4).*° One of the oldest surviving examples, in Rome’s church of Santa Pudenziana, depicts Christ enthroned among his apostles and before the cityscape of the New Jerusalem (Rev 21.2). A gemmed cross rises from the site of Golgotha and in the sky above are the four living creatures described in the Book of Revelation (Rev 4.6—-8). Two female figures, probably personifications of the churches of the Jews and the Gentiles, offer crowns to Peter and Paul (Figure 6.5).
Throughout the fifth and sixth centuries the decorative programs of churches became more and more elaborate and iconographically innovative. The mosaics that decorated the church of Santa Maria Maggiore (built by Sixtus III, c. 435) depicted a cycle of subjects from Genesis and Exodus in the nave (Figure 6.7), as well as previously unknown scenes from Christ’s nativity narratives, including the magi before Herod and the massacre of the innocents on the triumphal arch (Figure 1.10). By contrast, the original arch program for San Paolo Fuori le Mura, created about the same time, displayed another scene from the Book of Revelation. On the uppermost register a bust of Christ adorned with the radiate nimbus of the sun god hovered among the four beasts of Paradise and above the twenty-four elders of Revelation bearing crowns to cast before him (cf. Revelation 4.1-11). The mosaics of Ravenna are among the most magnificent of all. Their stunning pictorial compositions are often surrounded by geometric and floral designs and exemplify the ways that liturgy is illuminated by the decoration of its environment (Figures 21.5—10). Furthermore, as the Ravenna mosaics represent the transitions from Roman to Gothic to early Byzantine culture and theology, they provide an unsurpassed and extremely precious visual archive.*!
Paulinus of Nola, an aristocratic early-fifth-century bishop who built churches on his ancestral lands between Rome and Naples, described the apse mosaics he commissioned. For his church at Nola, Paulinus evidently commissioned a representation of the Holy Trinity. A poem that he composed describes the iconography as depicting Christ in the form of a lamb standing on a rock from which four rivers flowed, the Father as a voice thundering from above (almost certainly depicted as a hand from heaven), and a dove for the Holy Spirit. The image also included a cross within a wreath, which was itself surrounded by a circle of twelve doves to represent the apostles. The central image was a cross within a wreath. The other, at Fundi, depicted the final judgment. Christ was depicted as a lamb beneath a bloody cross. Above him hovered the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove, and the hand of God descended to offer a crown. The Christ-lamb was busy separating sheep from goats, with the assistance of the Good Shepherd, who herded off the goats and welcomed the lambs into a bucolic paradise.”
Around this same time, the shift from a book roll to a codex allowed the production of illustrated Bibles, which provided a different context for scripture-based images. The oldest surviving example of these, the Quedlinburg Itala, dates to the early fifth century and consists of five leaves from the books of Samuel and Kings. The style of these manuscript illuminations starkly contrasts with that of the catacomb paintings. Richly detailed and finely painted, some made from purple-dyed parchment, a complete manuscript may have had dozens of illustrations, many presented in sequenced cycles (Figures 16.1, 16.5—6, 18.11).”
Conclusion
Although scholars disagree on the reasons for the seeming absence of Christian art prior to the early third century, it is clear that no later than that, those who became adherents to the new religion were beginning to decorate their homes, bodies, tombs, and places of worship with iconography that reflected their religious identity and can still be identified as distinctively Christian insofar as they depicted biblical narratives or referred to central dogmatic or theological ideas. Although much of the surviving remains were found in burial contexts, they include objects like lamps, rings, or gold glasses that would have been made for domestic use or personal adornment. Eventually, these private or personal objects were joined by monumental works of art, liturgical furnishings of precious materials, and illuminated sacred books that were commissioned by members of the imperial family or other elite individuals and almost certainly approved by church authorities. Although one cannot know how any object was used or much less perceived by ancient owners or viewers, it can be assumed that they were intended to express both individual and communal identity and religious commitments, while also stimulat-ing devotion, prompting prayer, and enhancing corporate worship.
Link
Press Here
0 التعليقات :
إرسال تعليق