Earth and Ocean The Terrestrial World in Early Byzantine Art
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HENRY MAGUIRE
Earth and Ocean The Terrestrial World in Early Byzantine Art
Published for THE CoLLEGE ART AssociATION oF AMERICA
by THE PENNSYLVANIA STATE UNIVERSITY PRESS UNIVERSITY PARK AND LONDON
Monographs on the Fine Arts sponsored by THE COLLEGE ART ASSOCIATION OF AMERICA XLIII Editor, Carol F. Lewine
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Maguire, Henry, 1943Earth and ocean. (Monographs on the fine arts; 43) Bibliography: p. Includes index. r. Pavements, Mosaic-Byzantine Empire--Themes, motives. 2. Mosaics, Byzantine--Themes, motives. 3. Nature (Aesthetics) I. Title. II. Series. NA3780.M34 1987 729'.7'09495 86-22551 ISBN o-271-00477-0
Copyright © 1987 The College Art Association of America All rights reserved Printed in the United States of America
Contents
I
II III IV
v VI VII
List of Illustrations vu Acknowledgments xm Introduction I The Language of Symbols 5 The Literal Sense I 7 Partial Allegory 3I The Gathering of the Waters 4I The Creatures of the Fifth Day 57 Nature and Humanity 67 King and Creator 73 Conclusion 8I Notes 85 Bibliography IOI Index I05 Illustrations III
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List of Illustrations
r. Butrinto, baptistery, pavement, inserted motifs
2.
(from Luigi M. Ugolini, "II battistero di Butrinto," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, xr [1934], fig. 2)
romischen Mosaiken der kirchlichen Bauten vom IV.XIII.]ahrhundert [Freiburg im Breisgau], I976, plate roi)
Ancona, Christian tomb, pavement, The Vineyard of Isaiah (from Bullettino di Archeologia Cristiana, 3rd series, vol. IV [1879], plate 9)
8. Antioch, Bath "E", large hall, pavement (detail), Earth (photo: Department of Art and Archaeology, Princeton University)
3. Kato Paphos-Chrysopolitissa, basilica, nave pavement (detail), "I am the True Vine" (photo: Dr. A. Papageorghiou, Cyprus Museum, Nicosia) 4· Gerasa, funerary chapel, nave pavement (detail), Vine with Commemorative Inscription (photo: Yale University and Dumbarton Oaks) 5. Christ and His Flock, silver reliquary from Henchir Zirara. Vatican, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana (photo: Biblioteca Vaticana)
9. Antioch, Bath "E", large hall, pavement, The Earth and the Water (after Doro Levi, Antioch Mosaic Pavements, I [Princeton, I947], fig. roo) IO. Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement, Earth and Ocean (photo: Archaeological Society, Athens) I I. Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement (detail), Earth and Ocean (photo: Archaeological Society, Athens) 12.
6. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, apse mosaic (reproduced
through the courtesy of the Michigan-PrincetonAlexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai)
Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement, Ocean, detail, Duck in Lotus Plant (photo: author)
r 3. Map of the World According to Cosmas Indicopleustes.
7· Rome, SS. Cosmas and Damian, apse mosaic (from Joseph Wilpert, Walter N. Schumacher, Die
Rome, Biblioteca Vaticana, MS. gr. 699, fol. 40v. (photo: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana)
vm
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
14. The Creation of Land Animals. Istanbul, Seraglio Library, MS. 8, fol. 32v.
the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai)
15. Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean (from A. K. Orlandos, "Palaiochristianika kai byzantina mnemeia Tegeas-Nykliou," Archeion ton Byzantinan Mnemeion tes Hellados, xu [1973], plate A)
28. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, sixth ceiling beam, Beasts of the Land (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai)
16. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), Tigris (photo: G. Hougen) 17. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), july (photo: G. Hougen) 18. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), August (photo: G. Hougen) 19. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), February (photo: G. Hougen) 20. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), May (photo: G. Hougen) 21. Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement (detail), Marine Creatures in Border (photo: G. Hougen) 22. Antioch, building north of St. Paul's Gate, pavement, "Renewal" and the Seasons (photo: Department of Art and Archaeology, Princeton University) 23. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, ceiling beams (reproduced through the courtesy of the MichiganPrinceton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 24. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, first ceiling beam, Land Creatures (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 25. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, first ceiling beam (detail), Antelope and Plants (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 26. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, third ceiling beam, Marine Creatures (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 27. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, third ceiling beam (detail), Marine Creatures (reproduced through
29. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, sixth ceiling beam (detail), Boar and Elephant (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-PrincetonAlexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 30. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, ninth ceiling beam, Birds (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 3r. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, ninth ceiling beam (detail), Birds (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 32. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, twelfth ceiling beam, Nilotic Scenes (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 33. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, twelfth ceiling beam (detail), Crocodile, Boat, and Ostrich (reproduced through the courtesy of the Michigan-Princeton-Alexandria Expedition to Mount Sinai) 34· Karl1k, basilica, pavement (detail), Animal Paradise of Isaiah (from Michael Gough, "«The Peaceful Kingdom>>: An Early Christian Mosaic Pavement in Cilicia Campestris," Melanges Mansel, I [Ankara, 1974], fig. 63) 35. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean (from Maurice H. Chehab, Mosai"ques du Liban [Bulletin du Musee de Beyrouth, xiv-xv, Beirut, 1958-59], plate 66) 36. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement (detail), "Ship of Peace" (photo: Erica Dodd) 37. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement (detail), One Creature Devours Another (photo: Erica Dodd) 38. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement, Terrestrial Creation (from Carl H. Kraeling, Gerasa: City of the Decapolis [New Haven, 1938], plate 73)
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 39· Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement (detail), Vine (photo: author) 40. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement (detail), Birds, Beasts, and Acanthus Plant (photo: Courtesy of Yale University and Dumbarton Oaks) 41. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement (detail), Birds, Beasts, and Water Creatures (photo: Courtesy of Yale University and Dumbarton Oaks) 42. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement, Earth and Ocean (from G. CvetkovicToma5evic, Heraclea, III, Mosaic Pavement in the Narthex of the Large Basilica at Heraclea Lyncestis
[Bitola, I 967]) 43. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement, central composition (photo: author) 44. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Goat under Cedar Tree (photo: author) 45. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Lion and Bull under Apple Tree (photo: author) 46. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Dog under Fig Tree (photo: author) 47. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Leopard and Hind under Pomegranate Tree (photo: author) 48. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Cross of Fish in the Border (photo: author) 49· Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Ducks and Tree in Winter (photo: author) 50. Skhira, basilica, sanctuary pavement (detail), Stags Flanking Vase (from Mohamed Fendri, Basiliques chretiennes de Ia Skhira [Paris, I96I], plate I4) 5 r. Nicaea, painted tomb, Peacocks Flanking Cantharos
1x
John Ward-Perkins, justinianic Mosaic Pavements in Cyrenaican Churches [Monografie di Archeologia Libica, XIV, Rome, I98o], fig. IO) 53· Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), The "New Town Theodorias" (photo AudioVisual Center, Benghazi)
54· Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Ktisis" (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica) 55. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Kosmesis" (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica) 56. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Ananeosis" (photo: Department of Antiquities
of Cyrenaica) 57· Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Phison" (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica) 58. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), Eagle Rending Deer (from Elisabeth Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and John Ward-Perkins justinianic Mosaic Pavements in Cyrenaican Churches [Monografie di Archeologia Libica, XIV, Rome, I98o], plate 5) 59. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), Stag and Serpent (from Elisabeth Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and John Ward-Perkins, Justinianic Mosaic Pavements in Cyrenaican Churches [Monografie di Archeologia Libica, XIV, Rome, I98o], plate 6) 60. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Castalia" (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica) 6r. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), Facade (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica) 62. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), Musician (photo: Audio-Visual Center, Benghazi)
(photo: Ihor Sevcenko) 52. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean (from Elisabeth Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and
63. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "The Lighthouse" (photo: Department of Antiquities of Cyrenaica)
x
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
64. Curium, Baths ofEustolius, "Long Mosaic Room," pavement (detail), "Ktisis" (photo: The University Museum, University of Pennsylvania) 65. Mount Nebo, Theotokos Chapel, nave pavement (detail), Fruit and Knife (photo: author) 66. Antioch, House of Ktisis, pavement, "Ktisis" and Creatures (photo: Department of Art and Archaeology, Princeton University)
77. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail) (photo: Terrasanta) 78. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Earth (photo: Studium Biblicum Franciscanum) 79. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Man's Defenses against Beasts (from Sylvester J. Saller and Bellarmino Bagatti, The Town of Nebo Qerusalem, I949], pl. 9)
67. Silver paten from Phela. Bern, Abegg-Stiftung 68. Huarte, North Church, pavement of apse (from Maria-Teresa and Pierre Canivet, "La Mosiique d' Adam dans l'eglise syrienne de Hiiarte (Ve S. ), " Cahiers Archeologiques, xxrv [ I975J, 49-70, fig. 3) 69. Jerusalem, pavement discovered near the Damascus Gate, Bird Rinceau (photo: courtesy of Kervork Hintlian) 70. Sabratha, Basilica of Justinian, pavements (from J. B. Ward-Perkins and R. G. Goodchild, "The Christian Antiquities of Tripolitania," Archaeologia, vc [1953], plate 26) 71. Sabratha, Basilica ofJustinian, nave pavement, Bird Rinceau (photo: Department of Antiquities, Tripoli) 72. Sabratha, Basilica of Justinian, sanctuary pavement (detail), Aquatic Creatures (from Salvatore Amigemma, L'Italia in Africa, Tripolitania, I, I monumenti d'arte decorativa, Part I, I mosaici [Rome, Ig6o], plate 35) 73. Constans I (obverse) and Phoenix on Globe (reverse), bronze coin from the mint of Trier. British Museum 74. Peiresc's copy of the Calendar of 3 54, Constantius II Holding Phoenix on Globe. Rome, Vatican Library, MS. Barb. Lat. 2I54, fol. 7r. (photo: Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana) 75. Justinian Wearing Peacock Plumes, cast of gold medallion from Caesarea. British Museum 76. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (from Sylvester J. Saller and Bellarmino Bagatti, The Town ofNebo Qerusalem, 1949], fig. 4)
So. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Domestic Dog (from Sylvester J. Saller and Bellarmino Bagatti, The Town ofNebo Qerusalem, I949], pl. IO) 8 I. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, St. George, plan of mosaics (from Sylvester J. Saller and Bellarmino Bagatti, The Town of Nebo Qerusalem, I949], fig. 8) 82. Bronze stamp. Houston, Menil Foundation Collection (photo: Courtesy of Gary Vikan) 83. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, St. George, Wild and Domestic Beasts (photo: Studium Biblicum Franciscanum) 84. Theodosius Enthroned over Earth, silver missorium. Madrid, Academia de la Historia (from Richard Delbrueck, Spiitantike Kaiserportriits [Berlin, 1933], pl. 94) 85. Silk from St. Cuthbert's coffin (reconstructed detail), Earth. Durham Cathedral (from]. F. Flanagan, "The Figured Silks," in The Relics of St. Cuthbert, ed. C. F. Battiscombe (Oxford, I956], fig. I) 86. Divine and Imperial Dominion, leaf of ivory diptych. Paris, Louvre (photo: Musees Nationaux, Paris) 87. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, vault and arches (photo: German Archaeological Institute, Rome) 88. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, vault (photo: Hirmer Fotoarchiv) 89. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, soffit at top of eastern arch (photo: German Archaeological Institute, Rome) go. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, soffit at top of western
arch (photo: Alinari)
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
x1
91. Poree, Basilica of Eufrasius, apse, intarsia panel, Cornucopias and Tridents (photo: Ann Terry)
94. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, mosaic, Justinian and Twelve Companions (photo: Anderson)
92. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, apse and north side (photo: Alinari)
95. Ravenna, S. Apollinare Nuovo, south wall, mosaic (detail), St. Vitalis and Other Martyrs (photo: Alinari)
93. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, apse mosaic, Christ Bestows Crown on St. Vitalis (photo: Alinari)
96. Crossed Cornucopias and Imperial Busts, onyx cameo. Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum
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Acknowledgments
For helping me to realize this book, I am indebted to many individuals and institutions. The research was begun at the library of the Warburg Institute in London, during the tenure of a Fellowship in the Center for Advanced Study of the University oflllinois at Urbana-Champaign. Two grants from the Research Board of the same university enabled me to visit and record sites in Egypt, Greece, Italy, Jordan, and Yugoslavia. It would not have been possible to complete my project without many individual acts of kindness received from friends and colleagues. In particular, I would like to thank all those people who have helped to obtain hard-to-find photographs of monuments now difficult of access or destroyed. In this regard I am especially indebted to Elisabeth Alfoldi, Charlotte Burk, Slobodan Curcic, Helen Evans, Ernst Kitzinger, and Ann Terry. Erica Dodd shared with me photographs and information taken, under the most difficult and even dangerous of conditions, from the mosaic at Khalde in the Lebanon. In Jordan I received valuable assistance from Adnan Hadidi, the Director General of the Department of Antiquities, and generous hospitality from Mohammad Al-Asad and his family. In the last stages of the work, my text acquired many stylistic improvements from the careful attention given by Carol Lewine, Editor of the College Art Association Monograph Series. I am also grateful to Cherene Holland at the Pennsylvania State University Press, who has assisted me over numerous points of detail. Many specialists have helped me over particular points of fact or interpretation; here I owe special thanks to Charalambos Bakirtzis, Cynthia Hahn, Anna Kartsonis, Herbert Kessler, Ruth Kolarik, Brian Madigan, Charlotte Roueche, and Gary Vikan. Most of all, however, I am indebted to Eunice Dauterman Maguire, who has contributed generously to this work at every stage. She sparked my initial interest in the problems of
XIV
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
interpreting nature imagery in early Byzantine art, she has been a constant source of references and ideas, and at the end she scrutinized my pages with a critical editorial eye. The book is dedicated to her as a small sign of its author's gratitude. Urbana, Illinois June 1986
Introduction
0
NE of the most distinctive characteristics of Byzantine art of the later fifth and the sixth centuries A.D. is its fondness for imagery drawn from natural history. Wherever the visitor looks in churches of this period, whether it be to the floors, to the walls, to the furnishings, or to the ceilings and the vaults, there may be representations of birds, beasts, sea creatures, and plants. These motifs from nature raise complex questions of meaning and significance. In the first place, the viewer wonders whether they were designed merely as ornaments for the churches they adorn, or whether they carried Christian content. And if the plants and creatures did convey Christian meanings, what meanings were intended by the artists or their patrons? Often the works of art do not in themselves provide clear answers to these questions, and the modern viewer is unsure how to interpret them. Fortunately, however, there is a great wealth of Early Christian literature on natural history incorporated into sermons and commentaries, and the richness of the visual imagery is amply matched in the texts. My aim is to explore the connections between this exegetical literature and presentations of nature in art. By studying the parallels between art and literature it is possible to reveal the common patterns of thinking that may have inspired both artists (or their patrons) and writers. There are many ways in which the study ofliterary texts can aid the historian who desires to understand the visual images of the past. First, and most obviously, a text can explain why an image has a particular form; that is, there can be a cause-and-effect relationship between literature and art, so the work of art becomes in some sense an illustration of the text. But a text can also explain what a given image means; it can reveal the thought processes that lie behind the work of art, even if the text itself was not known either directly or indirectly to the artist. In the latter case, the art historian is not concerned with proving that a given text has
2
INTRODUCTION
influenced an image, but he or she tries to show that both text and image reflect similar modes of thought. r In this book, texts will be used with the second of these aims in view, that is, to reveal the thought patterns embodied in certain early Byzantine portrayals of the natural world. The motifs from nature in early Byzantine art can be compared to keys that opened the way to associations. Like actual Byzantine keys, they appear to have been capable of opening more than one lock or door. A designer or viewer of a work of art might use a given motif, or key, to unlock one or more associations, or he or she might not use the key at all, so the associations would remain closed for that person. The choice would depend upon an individual's background, culture, and inclinations. 2 In this book I shall for the most part consider the keys only from the perspective of designers who used them with the intent to evoke specific ideas related to the physical geography of the terrestrial world, to its creation and governance, and to its symbolism. Of course, motifs from nature often appeared in less well-defined contexts in early Byzantine art. Frequently designers were content to illustrate plants and animals without providing any pointers to their interpretation; in such cases the viewer was left to use the keys to make associations, or to ignore them, as he or she wished. In this study, therefore, I shall examine only the more structured portrayals of the natural world. As will be explained in the first chapter, I believe that the products of even a single workshop of artists might range considerably in their intellectual content, according to the dictates of particular designers. In one place a patron, for example, might use the repertoire of a given workshop to create sophisticated intellectual constructs; in another place the same workshop might employ the same repertoire in a more haphazard fashion, perhaps having received only general instructions from the patron, or no instructions at all. Most of the works of art to be discussed in this book are floor mosaics, but we will also find portrayals of the earth and the ocean on walls, on vaults, and on ceilings. The pavement, however, remained the most popular place for displaying the terrestrial world: Not only was the earth an appropriate and relatively innocuous subject for imagery that was to be placed underfoot, but it was also a subject into which Christian symbolism could be inconspicuously woven, if the designer so desired. The study that follows, therefore, is an essay in interpretation. It is not intended as a complete catalogue of early Byzantine works of art portraying the terrestrial world, but it is meant as a guide to the reading of these rich and frequently complex images. The book is divided into seven chapters. Chapter I contains an introductory discussion of the language of symbolism in early Byzantine art, especially with respect to portrayals of themes from nature. This discussion is intended to open up a number of questions that will be addressed in more detail in the chapters that follow. Since a language does not exist in a vacuum but needs both an author and an audience, the last part of the first chapter discusses the respective roles of the designers and of the viewers of symbolic images in early Byzantine art, especially in floor mosaics. Each of the six subsequent chapters is devoted to a different interpretation of the terrestrial world, as seen both in art and in literature. Chapter II is concerned with those writers and artists who interpreted the world created by God in an absolutely literal sense, and who read into it no kind of symbolism or allegory. Chapter III is concerned with those who interpreted most of Creation literally but allegorized certain parts of it, so that they saw only some elements of natural history as Christian symbols. Chapters IV and V are concerned with those who were willing to allegorize the world extensively, imposing elaborate superstructures of symbolic meaning onto the whole scheme of Creation. Chapter VI is concerned with mosaics and commentaries that presented moralistic views of the 'earth by portraying man's role in nature. Finally, chapter VII shows how portrayals of Earth and Ocean could also have
INTRODUCTION
3
had an imperial significance in early Byzantine art, in the decoration of churches as well as of palaces. Several pages of this study are concerned with the symbolic meanings of specific motifs from natural history, such as the deer, the eagle, or the peacock. However, the book is intended not so much as a dictionary of such symbols from nature, but more as a grammar. Most of the symbols used in early Byzantine art, and especially the motifs from nature, had a wide variety of meanings, which could change according to the contexts in which the symbols appeared. The polyvalence of the symbols used by artists makes it difficult to compile a "dictionary" of their meanings, just as it would be a hard task to compile a dictionary of the metaphorical images employed by Byzantine writers. Instead, my approach has been to take one context in which images from nature frequently occurred in art-that is, portrayals of the terrestrial world-and to determine the patterns of thought associated with this particular subject with the help of literary texts. Once the "grammatical" structures associated with any given context have been analyzed, it becomes possible to pinpoint the meanings of individual symb.ols with more precision. My aim has been to use patristic texts not so much as quarries for meanings of individual motifs, but rather as constructions revealing the ways in which groups of symbols were combined to interpret a particular theme. Some readers may ask whether it is legitimate to assume that the logic connecting the motifs was necessarily the same in the visual and in the written documents. There are two principal factors that can give weight to hypotheses of this kind. The first factor would be that image and text came from the same milieu. Unfortunately, in the early Byzantine period it is not often that we can match a work ofart with a text known to have been produced at precisely the same time and place, because the accidents of survival have rendered our evidence too sporadic; only a small proportion of the original works of art and literature survives. However, so far as the texts are concerned, we can say that those that have survived were in many cases the most highly regarded and the most widely known, even if the same cannot as often be said of the preserved works of art. But there is a second factor that can give credence in hypothetical relationships between works of art and literature: The more complicated the pattern of motifs repeated in text and image, the greater the likelihood that a similar pattern of meanings underlies them. A coincidence of one or two motifs might be considered to be accidental, but when a larger number of motifs coincide, it becomes more reasonable to propose that a common structure of meanings may be expressed by them. Those who study symbolism in Early Christian art (and in medieval art as a whole) are sometimes accused of making subjective interpretations because, even if texts are used as a guide, the great wealth of Early Christian literature makes a variety of interpretations possible. The suspicion arises that scholars are able to pick and choose at random among the texts to support any explanation of an image that they care to offer. However, the association of texts with images does not have to be an arbitrary process so long as there are objective criteria, such as affinity in provenance and complexity of correspondence, by which the relevance of a particular text to a particular image can be assessed. I have tried to find the closest pairings that the surviving evidence can provide. Nevertheless, this book is offered to readers in the hope that it may stimulate a search for better matches, which may eventually improve upon the hypotheses presented here.
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I
The Language of Symbols
BYZANTINE REACTIONS TO ANIMALS AND PLANTS IN CHRISTIAN ART
J
UST as today some art historians like to read symbolic meanings wherever they can, while others favor a more literal approach,' so in the early Byzantine period there were those who could accept animals and plants as Christian symbols, while others could see in them no religious significance whatsoever. One of the latter group was St. Nil us of Sinai, who in the early fifth century wrote a letter to a Byzantine official about to construct a church. The official had proposed to decorate his church with "all kinds of animal hunts," with "nets being lowered into the sea, and every kind of fish being caught," and with "the pictures of different birds and beasts, reptiles and plants." St. Nilus made it very clear that he considered such decoration to be earthbound and a distraction from the higher verities: "I say that it would be childish and infantile to distract the eyes of the faithful with the previously mentioned [subjects]." Instead, the saint proposed that the building should be adorned with a single cross at its eastern end, and with scenes from the Old and the New Testaments on the walls, "so that the illiterate ... may, by contemplating the pictures, become mindful of the manly virtues of those who have genuinely served the true God, and may be stirred to match those famous and glorious feats, through which they were released from earth to heaven, having preferred what is unseen to what is seen. " 2 Evidently St. Nilus felt that the creatures and plants depicted in Early Christian churches had no Christian meaning at all. They may not even have been suitable subjects for the floors of churches. St. Nilus was not alone in his views, for at the time that he wrote, in the late fourth and early fifth centuries, the designers of floor mosaics showed a taste for austerity; many
6
EARTH AND OCEAN
church pavements of this period were purely geometric and scrupulously avoided the variety of plant and animal life that often was to adorn the floors of the later fifth and the sixth centuries. 3 Even in this later period, when the vogue for animal imagery in churches was at its height, there were writers who spoke out against representations of this kind. Some even objected to the portrayal of the Holy Ghost as a dove. John Diakrinomenos, in the late fifth century, said that "it is an infantile act to represent the most-holy and venerable Ghost in the likeness of a dove, seeing that the text of the Gospel teaches not that the Holy Ghost became a dove, but that it was once seen in the form of a dove, and that since this happened only once by reason of dispensation and not essentially, it was in no way fitting for believers to make for it a bodily likeness. " 4 Clearly John Diakrinomenos was unwilling to interpret the dove in Christian art as a symbol or a metaphor for the Holy Ghost. He was only willing to interpret the bird literally, as an earthly creature with feathers. Another who shared his opinion was Severus, the patriarch of Antioch from 512 to 518, who was accused by his opponents of melting down the gold and silver doves that hung above the fonts and altars, "saying that the Holy Ghost should not be designated in the form of a dove. " 5 At a later date, in the eighth and ninth centuries, portrayals of creatures and plants fell into disfavor because they were associated by the orthodox with the iconoclasts. The proponents of icons accused the iconoclastic emperors of removing the images of Christ and his saints and replacing them with birds, beasts, and herbage. Some of the most colorful passages of invective come from the Life of St. Stephen the Younger, written by the deacon Stephen in 8o6: "The Tyrant [Constantine V] scraped down the venerable church of the all-pure mother of God at the Blachernae, whose walls had previously been decorated with pictures of God's coming down to us . . . . Having thus suppressed all of Christ's mysteries, he converted the church into a store-house of fruit and an aviary: for he covered it with mosaics [representing] trees and all kinds of birds and beasts, and certain swirls of ivy-leaves [enclosing] cranes, crows and peacocks, thus making the church, if I may say so, altogether unadorned. " 6 Elsewhere, Stephen complains that "wherever there were venerable images of Christ or the Mother of God or the Saints, these were consigned to the flames [by the iconoclasts] or were gouged out or smeared over. If, on the other hand, there were pictures of trees or birds or senseless beasts . . . these were preserved with honor and given greater luster. " 7 The well-known eighty-second canon of the Quinisext Council, held in 692, foreshadowed this opposition to animal imagery on the part of the supporters of icons. The canon decreed that Christ should be depicted in human form "in place of the ancient lamb," so that viewers might thereby be reminded of "His life in the flesh. " 8 This passage shows that by the late seventh century the use of animal symbols to represent Christ could carry the taint of monophysitism, even though the monophysite Severus had earlier objected to the Holy Spirit being represented as a dove. The texts that we have reviewed so far have all condemned the use of imagery from natural history in churches. There are, however, many texts that present another viewpoint and describe portrayals of animals and plants with approval. 9 The majority of these texts are ekphraseis, rhetorical descriptions of buildings or works of art that were composed according to certain literary conventions. One convention was always to praise the subject of the description; for this reason the ekphraseis are intrinsically unlikely to provide any negative comments about the imagery from nature contained in churches. Another convention of the ekphraseis was for the writers to use a language and critical perspective derived from late antique secular rhetoric. This meant that when they praised the motifs depicted by artists it was more often for their grace and realism than for their potential for Christian meaning. For example, in his
THE LANGUAGE OF SYMBOLS
7
account of the church of St. Sergius at Gaza, the sixth-century author Choricius describes a mosaic of birds in a vine rinceau growing from a vase; he does not talk about the symbolism of the birds, or even of the vine, but instead he says that the birds were so artistically portrayed that they might be imagined to sing. 10 When the same author describes the portrayal of the Nile, together with its bird life, on the walls of St. Stephen in Gaza, he merely terms this a "joyful" sight. II Nevertheless, if we consider his passage on the fruits portrayed in the upper parts of the church of St. Sergius, we may wonder whether Choricius was not conscious of the symbolic potential of the images from natural history that he described. Characteristically, he expressed himself through a quotation from classical literature when he spoke of "pear trees, pomegranate trees and apple trees bearing bright fruit, blossoming in all seasons alike, neither wishing to yield to winter nor lacking the fruit of rain [in summer). Thus it is possible for us to rival the king of the Phaeacians. " I 2 Here Choricius referred to the orchard of the mythical palace of Alcinous, which Homer described in the Odyssey, where "the fruit perishes not nor fails in winter nor in summer, but lasts throughout the year. " I 3 But even though Choricius chose his quotation from a pre-Christian author, it is possible that he intended to show us that he saw the ever-ripe fruits depicted in the church as images of Paradise, where there is fruit in all seasons. As we shall see in chapter II, the notion of a temperate and seasonless Paradise was a commonplace among Christian writers. If the Byzantine ekphraseis go no further than to hint at symbolic meanings, the works of art themselves provide strong evidence that some people, at least, were willing to invest certain animal and plant motifs with Christian significance. As we shall see, in many cases inscriptions provide incontrovertible evidence of this. Even without inscriptions, we can point to instances in which church authorities apparently replaced one type of animal composition with another considered more meaningful, or more appropriate to a Christian context, as Jean-Pierre Sodini has recently shown. I 4 For example, the floor of a circular baptistery at Butrinto, in Albania, was covered with a mosaic that depicted a wide variety of plants, fishes, birds, and beasts (both wild and domestic); these creatures were framed by medallions, which were linked together to form circular chains. At some time not very long after the composition of the original mosaic, which may have been effected in the sixth century, the chains of medallions were abruptly interrupted by two inserted designs that were placed on the axis of the entrance. One of the inserted designs shows birds, including two peacocks, pecking at vine stems growing from a central cantharos (fig. r). IS Since the surrounding floor does not show excessive signs of wear, it appears possible that this design was inserted for iconographic reasons rather than to effect a repair. The vase, the peacocks, and the vine could have been put in by a person who considered these motifs more meaningful in a baptistery than the apparently random assortment of plants and creatures that had made up the original pattern for the floor. It will be remembered that when the orator Choricius saw the same motifs of the cantharos and the birds in the vine in the church of St. Sergius at Gaza, he only spoke of the lifelike qualities of the birds. However, if these motifs were inserted at Butrinto for iconographic reasons, the person responsible may have had more on his mind than mere verisimilitude. A similar example of the substitution of more meaningful, or more "charged," motifs for subjects of lesser significance is provided by a sixth-century pavement in the south aisle of Basilica C at Nea Anchialos, in Greece. 16 In this case, a fountain, which was flanked by two symmetrically placed stags and two birds, was superimposed onto a previously existing design of octagons and quatrefoils containing a variety of sea creatures, birds, and fruits. The insertion is similar both technically and stylistically to the preexisting floor, which suggests that the alteration was made not long after the setting of the original mosaic. 17 Here again we seem to
8
EARTH AND OCEAN
have a case in which some motifs from natural history-namely, the stags and the birds flanking the fountain-were deemed more appropriate than others in a Christian context.
THE POLYVALENCE OF IMAGES Most of the images from natural history that appear in early Byzantine art were not like modern traffic signs, with necessarily fixed and invariable messages, but, as I have already suggested, they were more akin to metaphors. The meanings of any given image, an eagle, for example, or a fish, could be nuanced or even completely altered according to the context provided by a given work of art, just as words in a language can change their meanings in different situations. ' 8 Also, like words in a language, the images employed by artists could change their meanings over the course of time. The literature of the Early Christian church provides bountiful interpretations for most of the images from nature used by Byzantine artists; one might say that, from the art historian's point of view, the literary interpretations are too plentiful, for there is often a problem in determining which particular meaning an artist had in mind at a particular time. In the texts we often find that a multitude of images can represent one concept, or different aspects of one concept. A well-known example is the early Byzantine Akathistos hymn, of uncertain authorship, which addresses the Virgin through a long series of metaphors: She is a star, the dawn, and lightning; she is a tree, a vine, and a flower; she is an ocean, a harbor, and a boat; she is a vessel, a basin, and a bowl; she is a bastion, a wall, and a tower; she is a throne, a table, and a chariot; she is a diadem, a crown, and a robe. ' 9 The number of potential images is only limited by the poet's imagination. Similar sequences of images can be found in other early Byzantine hymns. In his kontakion On the Adoration of the Cross, for example, the sixth-century poet Romanos described the cross as a root, a lance, a door, a shepherd's crook, a plow, a winnowing fan, an oar, and an altar. 20 Nor was it only poets who composed such sequences of metaphors to describe a single person or object, for we can find a similar richness of imagery in early Byzantine prose. For example, in a discourse on Athanasius of Alexandria, the fourth-century church father Gregory of Nazianzus successively described him as a horn of salvation, a keystone, a purifying fire, a winnowing fan, and as a sword cutting off the roots of vice. 2 ' It was natural for the patristic writers to employ several images to describe one concept, for they realized that the concepts that they wished to express were too complex to be rendered satisfactorily by one image alone. The best that they could hope to do was to express a certain aspect of an idea with a given image, and to use other images to express other aspects. There is an interesting passage in the Fifth Theological Oration by Gregory of N azianzus in which he discusses the difficulty of using images from the physical world to express divine concepts. Since this text has a considerable bearing on the significance of such imagery in art, it is worth quoting at some length. St. Gregory is speaking of the Trinity: "For my part," he says, I have reflected a great deal with myself ... looking for an image for so great a reality, and I have not known to what among earthly things below one should compare the divine nature. Even if I find a little resemblance, the greater part escapes me, and leaves me down below with my example. I have imagined-as others have also-a source, a stream, and a river, to see if there is an analogy between the source and the Father, the stream and the Son, and the river and the Holy Spirit. But I was
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9
afraid, in the first place, to suggest by this comparison some kind of outflowing of the Divinity, which would exclude stability; I was afraid in the second place to introduce through this comparison the idea of the oneness of the person, because the source, the stream, and the river are a single thing which takes various forms. 22 St. Gregory goes on to say that he had also thought of using the sun, the ray, and light as images of the Trinity, "but here, too, there is cause for fear. " 23 After rejecting these images also as unsatisfactory, he finally concludes: "In brief, there is no fixed point for my thought when I look for the concept I have in mind in the examples, unless one takes with circumspection a single trait from the image, and rejects the rest. " 24 St. Gregory of Nazianzus, therefore, was aware that it was impossible to have a one-to-one relationship of concept to image. If images were to be used at all, they could only reveal part of each concept. The logical consequence of this view was a piece of literature such as the Akathistos, in which a great number of images are used to present as many aspects of the subject as possible. If many images could be used to represent various aspects of one concept in early Byzantine literature, we also find that the reverse holds true: One image could represent several concepts, according to the contexts in which it was employed. We have already seen an example of this; in the hymn by Romanos the idea of the root is associated with the cross, while in the sermon on Athanasius by Gregory of Nazianzus it is linked with sin. In the works of some authors, an image could be used in opposite senses in adjoining passages; for example, in step .25 of his Heavenly Ladder, John Climacus used the waterspout as a symbol of humility, while a few pages later, in step 26, it became a symbol of pride. 25 There were, of course, precedents for such changes of meaning in the Bible itself, where many of the images from nature change or extend their significance according to the passages in which they occur. When these biblical images found their way into the Early Christian literature, they brought their variety of meanings with them. An obvious example is the vine, which represents God's people, or Israel, in Psalm 79, verse 8 and in Hosea I o: I, but which is first an image of Christ, and then of his people, in the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of John, verses 1-7. Likewise, the vineyard . represents the people of Israel in the fifth chapter oflsaiah, verses 1-7, but in Christ's parable it becomes the Kingdom of God (Matthew 2I:3'3-43). At this point it is legitimate to ask whether it is necessary or meaningful to enquire into the specific meanings of the pictographic images employed by Early Christian artists. There was certainly one school of thought in late antiquity which held that pictographic images could not be subjected to rational analysis. Plotinus, for example, wrote of the hieroglyphics employed by the ancient Egyptians: "Each image was a kind of understanding and wisdom and reality, given all at once, and not a process of reasoning and deliberation. " 26 However, there is no doubt that Early Christian artists, or their patrons, were in many cases interested in providing a rationale for the images they displayed. This is evident from inscriptions attached to the motifs. From such inscriptions we discover that in art, just as in literature, a single image such as the vine can be given several different but specific meanings according to the contexts in which it appears. Conversely, a single concept can also be represented by several different images. 27 The first point can be proved by three Early Christian floor mosaics, each of which portrays a vine, and each of which has an inscription suggesting that its designer desired to emphasize a particular aspect of vine symbolism. The first mosaic was discovered in a Christian tomb in Ancona (fig. 2). 28 It displays a scrolling vine, which grows from a central cantharos. At the top of the vine is an inscription that paraphrases the first verse of the fifth chapter of Isaiah: "A vineyard has been made beloved, on a hilltop in a fertile place. " 29 The choice of this inscription
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for the mosaic indicates that in the designer's mind the primary significance of the vine was the people of God. 30 Our second vine mosaic with an inscription was discovered in the nave of a basilica at Kato Paphos-Chrysopolitissa in Cyprus (fig. 3). 3 ' Here the vine plant is accompanied by the words "I am the true vine," which quote just the opening words of the fifteenth chapter of the Gospel of John. 32 In this mosaic, then, the primary apparent reference of the vine is to Christ in person. Our third example comes from a funerary chapel at Gerasa, where the eastern end of the nave pavement displays a vine growing from a central cantharos, in front of the sanctuary (fig. 4). 33 In the center of the scrolling stems of the vine, just above the vessel, an inscription explains that the mosaic, and possibly also the building, were given by the founder: "For the salvation of my father and my mother with [a service of] thanksgiving (meta eucharistias) ... " 34 The phrase "meta eucharistias" brings to mind another potential significance of the vine, namely, the wine of the communion service. Of course, each of the three meanings suggested by the inscriptions on these mosaics overlaps to some extent with the others, but the inscriptions do reveal that each designer consciously wished to express a different facet of the complex symbolism of the vine. Just as one image could be given different meanings, or nuances of meaning, in different works of art, so also varying aspects of one concept, such as Christ, could be portrayed through a variety of symbols. To take an obvious example, at Paphos Christ was shown as a vine, but in other contexts early Byzantine artists might portray Him as a lamb (see figs. 5, 7, and 88). The three floor mosaics at Ancona, Paphos, and Gerasa are somewhat unusual in that they have inscriptions that suggest their intended meanings. Generally the images from nature surviving so profusely in Early Christian art are not accompanied by explanatory texts. So the viewer is faced with a repeated problem of interpretation: which, if any, of the potential meanings of a polyvalent motif did the designer of a particular work have in mind? Did he wish one meaning to have precedence, or did he intend an ambiguity of meaning, in which every potential interpretation of the image could receive equal weight? Sometimes, but by no means always, the Byzantine designer indicated by visual means that he wished to give priority to a particular meaning or meanings. We shall see in later chapters that personifications were often included as pointers to the symbolism of works of art. In some cases, too, the context or the composition makes the primary significance of a symbol plain. Often, however, there is considerable room for doubt.
AMBIVALENCE AND AMBIGUITY The potential for ambiguity of many symbolic images in early Byzantine art increases the problems of interpretation for the present-day viewer. Although some scholars have recognized that the symbols employed by Early Christian artists could carry several distinct meanings at the same time, with no priority being given to one particular meaning over the others, 35 the ambiguity of much Early Christian iconography has not always been given the recognition it deserves, partly perhaps because modern academics have tended to be unhappy with uncertainties of meaning, preferring to look for solutions that are more clear-cut and precise. 36 However, one only has to look at Byzantine literature of all kinds to see that the Byzantines themselves welcomed ambiguity of expression; indeed they cultivated it. In this they followed the instruction of the second-century Greek orator Hermogenes, whose attributed writings were the
THE LANGUAGE OF SYMBOLS
II
cornerstone of Byzantine education in rhetoric, and who discussed ambiguity and double meanings, especially as a way of handling delicate situations. 37 In analyzing the symbolism of early Byzantine art, it is useful to make a distinction between two methods of creating multiple meanings, which may be termed ambivalence and ambiguity. In the first method, which I am calling ambivalence, a given image is repeated two or more times, but it carries a different meaning with each repetition. This linear repetition of a symbol with changing meanings can be compared to the rhetorical figure that the ancients called antanaklasis, that is, the repetition of a word in two different senses. As an example of antanaklasis Quintilian gives the phrase "Amari iucundum est, si curetur ne quid insit amari," which one might very roughly translate as "to be dear to someone can be pleasant, if one takes care that the cost is not too dear. " 38 For an equivalent of this figure in the language of metaphor, we can turn to a passage in the first Hymn on the Nativity by Romanos, in which the poet describes Mary receiving the Three Kings: "She opens the door and welcomes the cortege of the Magi; she opens the door, she who is the unopenable gate, through which only Christ has passed ... she opened the door, she, the door from whom was born the door, the little Child, God before the ages. " 39 Here the repeated image of the door is in turn the actual stable door, then a metaphor for the virginity of Mary, and finally a metaphor for Christ himself. The organization of the images can be compared to a jeweled necklace, in which the same stone is repeated in linear sequence along a chain, but at each repetition it reflects the light in a different way. In the second method of using symbols to create multiple meanings-ambiguity-an image needs only to be presented once, but it is still intended to carry a double sense. This results in an intensification and concentration of the image's significance, since the image might appear only a single time. For an example in literature, we can turn to a passage of the sixth-century poem In praise ofJustin II by Corippus, in which the poet uses the single image of a shepherd to draw a subtle parallel between the emperor and Christ: "According to the manner of rulers, he Uustin II] tended his own servants and aided and protected them. Like a farsighted shepherd ... he brings together the lambs, calling them all by well known names; when they hear his voice they follow and recognize their master, and baa into the air and greedily take the green grass which he has brought. " 40 In these lines the shepherd image has the potential to describe not only Justin II but also Christ, the Good Shepherd; Corippus makes the second interpretation possible for his hearers by quoting the very words of the parable in the Gospel of John (ro:3f.)Y By using the shepherd image a single time to refer at once to the emperor and to Christ, the poet creates a delicate link between the two; the ambiguity of the image helps the orator to hint at what would have been difficult to say openly. In art, just as in literature, we can distinguish between ambiguity created by individual images and ambivalence created by repeated images. When repeated images have been employed, the Byzantine artist's intention to express multiple meanings is much more obvious to the modern viewer. A good example of such linear ambivalence is provided by a silver reliquary found in a church at Henchir Zirara, in Algeria, and which possibly dates to the sixth centuryY On one side of the oval box we find a frieze of nine nearly identical lambs. The animals are arranged all on the same level in two files of four that approach a central lamb, marked only by a cross above its back and by the turn of its head (fig. 5). Each of the flanking rows of lambs emerges from the door of an arcaded basilica. The central lamb must represent Christ, while the flanking lambs represent his flock; the two basilicas may signify that the sheep come from the church of Jerusalem and the church of the Gentiles, respectively. 43 The repetition of the same symbol to represent first the Lord and then his followers expresses a number of paradoxical ideas current in Early Christian writing and ultimately goes back to Christ's own
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words as recorded in the Gospel: "The Good Shepherd lays down his life for the sheep" Oohn ro:II). Gregory ofNazianzus, for example, wrote of Christ: "He is 'shepherd' as the leader of his flock .... He is 'sheep' as the sacrificial victim. " 44 On the reliquary Christ is seen not as a shepherd but at one and the same time as the central leader of his flock and as the sacrificial lamb, while the lambs imitate the sacrifice of their leader. 45 It is much more difficult for viewers today to be certain of the intentions of Byzantine artists with respect to the second meth{)d of creating multiple meanings-through the use of an individual image. However, we can be sure that in some instances Byzantine viewers did give multiple meanings to isolated symbols. This is evident, for example, from a sixth-century description by John of Gaza of a painting of the universe in a bathhouse of his city, which apparently contained at its center a golden cross set against three concentric circles of blue. 46 We can visualize the central motif by referring to the Justinianic basilica at Mount Sinai, where a golden cross set against three circles of different shades of blue can be seen above the head of Christ in the mosaic of the apse (fig. 6). 47 John described the background of the cross that he saw as follows: "The auspicious image (typos) of the spiritual Trinity surrounds [the cross] with dark blue whirls; it [the Trinity] is inscribed in circles which are like a representation of the celestial sphere (polou). And inside it is possible to observe the holy brightness of both arms [of the cross]. " 48 John of Gaza therefore saw the three blue circles in this painting not only as symbols of the Trinity but also as a representation of the heavenly sphere; in other words, they conveyed to him two different concepts at the same time. His reaction is reminiscent of that of Paul the Silentiary, who described the possibly cross-shaped monogram of Justinian and Theodora as "one sign that means many stories. " 49 This type of ambiguity, in which a single motif can be charged with more than one distinct meaning, is in some respects better suited to the visual arts than to literature, for in writing the syntax will often require the repetition of the image in association with each new meaning, whereas in art the expression can be more compressed. But such ambiguity of expression raises considerable problems for the art historian who is faced with the task of interpreting early Byzantine monuments. There is always the question of whether a designer intended a given motif to express one concept only, or whether he wished it to be ambiguous; and if the designer did not intend ambiguity, which one of the possible meanings did he have in mind? Such difficulties of interpretation are accentuated when ambiguity and ambivalence may have been combined in one work of art; that is, when double meanings can arise both from individual images and from repeated images. A case in point is the apse mosaic of the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian in Rome, which dates to the early Justinianic period. 50 At the base of this apse we can see a lamb, with a halo around his head, standing on a hill from which flow the four streams of Paradise and flanked by six sheep on either side (fig. 7). Here the lamb and the sheep create a linear ambivalence somewhat similar to that found on the reliquary from Henchir Zirara (fig. 5); the Lamb of God stands on Mount Zion (Revelations I4:r) over the springs of living water (Revelation TI7 and 22:1-2), while the sheep on either side represent the flock of the Lamb. Through the similarity of the symbols employed for Christ and his followers, the viewer understands the sacrifices of the leader and of his flock. So much seems clear, but the design leaves the viewer in doubt concerning the precise identities of the sheep that make up the flock; on this point, indeed, the mosaic appears to give mixed signals. The number of the sheep-twelve-suggests that they should be apostles. 51 On the other hand, the fact that the six animals on the right emerge from a city labeled "Bethlehem," while the six animals on the restored left side emerge from "Jerusa-
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13
lem," suggests another meaning: the flocks coming out of the churches of Jerusalem and of the Gentiles. 52 Bethlehem, because of the visit of the three Magi, was considered as the type of the Church of the Gentiles. 53 The sheep flanking the lamb therefore can be seen as examples of ambiguity. If the viewer associates any one of them with its eleven companions, it can be interpreted as an apostle. On the other hand, if the animal is associated with the city from which it emerged, it becomes a Jew or a Gentile. It is not clear from the mosaic whether the designer intended to give priority to one or the other interpretation of the flanking sheep, or whether he intended both at the same time.
POTENTIAL AND INTENDED SYMBOLISM In the case of John of Gaza and the painting of the cross set against blue circles, we saw that a Byzantine beholder read two different meanings into the same motif But his interpretation still leaves open the question of whether the designer who created the picture consciously intended his viewers to read the circles in that way, or whether he had some other significance in mind. In studying Byzantine art, as well as the art of other cultures, it is useful to make a distinction between potential and intended symbolism, for the meanings that the designer had in mind were not necessarily the same ones that viewers, even contemporary Byzantine viewers, might give to the work. 54 The coinage of Justin II gave rise to a well-known instance of a Byzantine audience changing the meaning of an image from that intended by its designer. On the reverse of the gold solidi of this emperor there was a figure of Constantinople in the form of a seated woman. 55 This female personification was a classical motif, which had not been employed on the coinage since the fifth century. 56 Unfortunately, the general populace associated the lady on the coins with the goddess Aphrodite, 57 so that in the following reign of Tiberi us II the offending personification was replaced by a more readily understandable cross. 58 Another instance of misunderstanding on the part of the viewer concerns an early medieval writer who mistook a mosaic of the four seasons with their appropriate fruits for portrayals of prophets with symbolic attributes. In the ninth century Liber Ponti.ficalis of Naples, there is a curious description of an apse mosaic in a basilica constructed by Bishop Severus, who was in office from 363 until 409/Io. We are told that the apse portrayed the Savior sitting with the twelve apostles, while underneath there were four prophets: Isaiah's attribute of an olive crown designated the Nativity of Christ and the perpetual virginity of Mary, the Mother of God; Jeremiah, through his offering of grapes, prefigured the virtue of Christ and the glory of the Passion; Daniel, carrying ears of grain, announced the Second Coming of the Lord, in which all the good and the wicked are gathered together for judgment; finally, Ezechias proffered roses and lilies in his hands, announcing the kingdom ofheaven to the faithful, for in roses the blood of the martyrs is expressed and in lilies the perseverance of confessors. 59 There can be little doubt that the four figures described here were intended by their designer to portray the seasons. 60 Their attributes of olives, grapes, ears of grain, and roses with lilies signify the seasons of winter, autumn, summer, and spring in countless works of late Roman and Early Christian art; for example, the same sequence of fruits and flowers can be seen in the wreath surrounding the bust of St. Victor in the center of the fifth-century mosaic that adorns the ceiling of his chapel attached to the basilica of St. Ambrose in Milan. 61 However, the ninth-century chronicler evidently no longer understood the late antique iconography of the seasons; he misidentified the four personifications as prophets and found ingenious and com-
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plex Christian explanations for their attributes-explanations that certainly had not been intended by the Early Christian designer of the mosaic. The meanings a designer projected onto a motif could therefore differ considerably from the meanings given to it by a viewer. In this book I shall attempt to discover the conscious intentions of designers, rather than the various interpretations that might have been made by anyone who saw their works. My primary concern will be with the creation of works of art rather than with their afterlife among the populace at large. A final point that needs to be raised is the question of what is meant by the word "designer" in speaking of the works of art to be discussed in this book. Many of the surviving portrayals of the terrestrial world in early Byzantine art are in the medium of floor mosaics, and in the case of floor mosaics there is increasing evidence that a distinction has to be made between designers, who created the compositions, and craftsmen, who set the cubes according to instructions or drawings they had received from someone else. There are indications of such a division of labor from all periods of ancient floor mosaics. From the third century B. c. we have a papyrus containing instructions for the laying of a pavement in a bathhouse, which specifies that the craftsman is to follow a cartoon provided by the royal palace. 62 Several Roman and Early Christian mosaics bear inscriptions that distinguish between the designers of the mosaics and the executors of the designs. For example, an inscription attached to a late fifth- or early sixth-century mosaic of the months at Thebes in Greece is especially clear in the distinctions it makes: Demetrios thought up the design, while Epiphanes merely executed it. 63 Sometimes the craftsman and the designer could be one and the same person, while on other occasions the designer could also be the patron. In a North African mosaic of the third century A.D. found near Enfidaville in Tunisia, a mosaicist proclaims, not without pride, that he carried out his somewhat ill-drawn work "sine pictore," that is, "without a painter" to design the composition. 64 Likewise, in a damaged inscription attached to a mosaic of Lycurgus found at Trikkala in Greece, we appear to find two workmen congratulating themselves for both setting the stones and drawing the design. 65 As for the patron, the detailed letter written by Paulinus of Nola in 403, which described the apses he was decorating in his churches at Nola and Fundi, leaves little doubt that he designed the iconographic programs himself, at least in the sense of selecting and arranging the motifs that were to be portrayed. 66 An interesting sixth-century inscription found at Apamea, in Syria, implies that an educated patron could also interest himself in the design of a floor. In the southeast angle of the cathedral ofthat city, the excavators discovered a fine mosaic displaying a variety of animals and vessels set into square and rectangular frames. 67 At the center of this composition is a medallion containing the inscription: "This mosaic, with its variegated stones (poikilen psephida), is presented by Paul, who has a variegated understanding (poikilophron) of the dogmas from on high. 68 The Paul of the inscription was the Bishop of Apamea, who may have been the composer of this dedication and perhaps also the person who selected the motifs for the mosaic. Certainly whoever wrote the inscription was a learned man, as is attested by its play on words (poikilen psephida-poikilophron), and by the extreme rarity of the word poikilophron, which had been used by Euripides to describe Odysseus in his tragedy Hecuba. 69 The evidence that we have reviewed indicates that the designers ofboth wall and floor mosaics were frequently not the same individuals as the mosaicists who actually set the cubes. Sometimes the designers were artists, who had composed pictures that were later set in stones by the craftsmen. At other times the designers were learned patrons, who had selected the motifs that were to be portrayed and had even stipulated their arrangement. This division between the design of mosaics and their setting had several important consequences. It meant, first, that there
THE LANGUAGE OF SYMBOLS
15
could be a disjunction between the conception of a mosaic and its manner of execution. The designer, especially if he were an educated patron, might have sophisticated ideas in mind, but the craftsmen who set the mosaic might be relatively lacking in skill. Hence a mosaic that is sophisticated in its content need not necessarily be sophisticated in its technique. A second consequence of the division between the roles of designer and craftsman has to do with the choice and arrangement of images in the mosaics of a single workshop. A patron with a fondness for complex symbolism might use the repertoire of a given· workshop to make complicated allegories. But another patron, or perhaps the craftsmen themselves, if they were left to their own devices, might use the same repertoire of motifs in a much less consciously structured way. We shall see in chapter IV, for example, that one group of craftsmen working in the sixth century in Libya could produce both highly organized and also much more informal compositions, according to the demands of their patrons. 70 In the nave of the Cathedral of Cyrene, these workmen set a floor containing an assortment of plants, birds, beasts, and rustic scenes that do not appear to form a purposefully unified composition; in their totality they may have been intended to represent no more than God's earth in its literal sense. 7 ' But in the nave of the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia, the same group of craftsmen used a similar repertoire of motifs, with the addition of some personifications, to create a unified mosaic intended to express a number of highly sophisticated allegories (figs. 52-63). 72 Here they were presumably following the instructions of a learned patron. One cannot argue, therefore, that because one mosaic by a given atelier does not have a deeply thought-out program the same will hold true for all other mosaics by the same workshop. We must expect some mosaics to have more of an intellectual "structure" than others, according to the preoccupations of their designers. And we must be prepared to find richness of thought allied to poverty of execution, just as a mosaic executed in a sumptuous technique may be relatively empty of intellectual content.
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II
The Literal Sense
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
J
UST as Early Christian artists often illustrated motifs drawn from the world of nature, such as animals, plants, and seasons, so, too, Early Christian writers loved to describe the variety of Creation, especially in sermons and commentaries on the Hexaemeron, or the first six days of the world. The Hexaemeron literature of the early centuries of the Church is a rich source of information on the imagery drawn from nature by Early Christian artists and on its potential meanings; but, surprisingly, art historians have not yet fully related these texts to the visual arts. The four chapters that follow will consider the sermons and commentaries on the first six days of Creation as an aid to understanding nature imagery in Early Christian art. This chapter will be concerned only with those authors who gave an absolutely literal interpretation of the events described in the first chapter of Genesis, and with the works of art that correspond to their viewpoint. The most extreme proponents of the literal interpretation took their stance in opposition to the third-century writer Origen, who had made the Creation story into a complex chain of allegories. A prominent opponent of Origen in the fourth century was St. Epiphanius, a bishop of Salamis in Cyprus, who wrote: "In the beginning God made heaven and earth, which-are not to be taken allegorically, but can actually be seen. And scripture says [that he made] the firmament, and the sea, plants, trees, pasture, grass, animals, fish, birds, and all the rest which, as we can see, in actual truth came into being."' The good bishop warns against making complicated allegories from these elements of Creation: "Do not, therefore, expend more labor than you should on the gifts of God, which are given by His grace to man. " 2 Epiphanius also says that he knows the description of Paradise in Genesis to be literally true, because he himself
r8
EARTH AND OCEAN
has seen one of the four rivers after it had left Paradise and has actually drunk the water from another: "I saw the waters of Gehon [the Nile),3 waters which I gazed at with these bodily eyes . . . . And I simply drank the waters from the great river Euphrates, which you can touch with your hands and sip with your lips; these are no spiritual waters. " 4 Epiphanius's reference to spiritual waters alludes to the allegories of Origen, who had interpreted the "waters above the firmament" of Genesis r :7 as spiritual or celestial waters, to which Christians should aspire, as opposed to the waters below, which represent the forces of darkness. Origen had written: And just as the firmament has been called heaven, because it separates the waters that are above it from the waters which are below, so man, housed in a body, if he can separate and distinguish the superior waters which are "above the firmament" and those which are "below the firmament" will be himself called heaven, that is to say "heavenly man," according to the words of the Apostle Paul: "Our commonwealth is in the heavens" [cf. I Corinthians 15:47; Philippians 3:20] . . . . Let each one of you, then, take pains to become one who separates the water that is on high from that which is below, in order to reach the intelligence of and the participation in the spiritual water "which is above the firmament" and to make flow "from his heart rivers of the water of life spouting until eternal life" Uohn 7:38 and 4:14], and to be distanced and separated from the water below, that is to say from the water of the abyss, where scripture places the darkness .... Thus participating in the superior water which is above the heavens, each of the faithful becomes heavenly: that is to say, he keeps his spirit in lofty and elevated things, and does not have any of his thoughts on the earth, but all in the heaven. 5 Epiphanius of Salamis rejected these allegories completely. The waters above the firmament must actually have existed, he claims, or how else would the flood have been possible? 6 Another writer of the fourth century who spoke out against the allegorization of Creation was the Syriac author St. Ephrem, who lived in Edessa in northern Mesopotamia. Speaking of the first chapter of Genesis, Ephrem said: "By heaven and earth he means the very heaven and the very earth. Let no man then suppose that there are allegories on the work of the six days: neither may one say that ... the names are empty ones, or that other things are intimated to us by the names. " 7 We find similar sentiments in the commentary on the Hexaemeron composed by the Greek church father St. Gregory of Nyssa in 381. At the conclusion of his treatise Gregory explained to his brother Peter, who had requested the work, that, "in making these responses to the questions which you, in your sagacity, put to me, I have distorted none of the written word into figurative allegory ... but, as far as possible, I have left the word in its own sense. " 8 One of the finest fourth-century descriptions of the created world is contained in the second Theological Oration that St. Gregory of Nazianzus delivered in Constantinople in the year 3 8o. 9 This description of the cosmos is not so much a commentary on the beginning of Genesis as a general celebration of nature through which the magnificence of God reveals itself. However, Gregory's work is similar to many sermons and commentaries on the six days of Creation in that he catalogues the handiwork of God, describing each of its divisions in turn. The general theme that runs through the descriptions is that God is known through his works; Gregory compares the visible world to a well-made and well-tuned lute (kithara), which has been adorned with the greatest beauty. If one listens to the sounds it gives, one cannot fail to think
THE LITERAL SENSE
19
of the craftsman who made it and of the musician who plays it; one's thoughts will rise toward them, even if one does not know them by sight. So it is with the world and with God who made it. 10 Gregory, who truly delights in describing the delights of nature, starts with living things and discusses them in the reverse order of their creation. First he wonders at the nature of humanity and at the construction of the human body. From humans he passes to the animals of the earth, noting how some are found in flocks, while others are single, some are herbivorous, others carnivorous, some fierce, others peaceful, some intelligent, others stupid, and so on. From the animals of the land Gregory moves to the creatures of the sea, their characters and their couplings, their births, their size, their beauty, their habitat, and their migrations. Next come the birds, and a discussion of their variety in form and color and song. Here we are treated to an elegant description of the peacock. Nor does St. Gregory forget the insects; he tells us of the activity and ingenuity of the bees and the spiders, "not to mention the treasures of the ants and their treasurers." He examines also the diversity of plants, the ingenious construction of their leaves, the variety and abundance of their fruit, their flowers, and their perfumes. From living things Gregory moves to the inanimate world. He wonders at the richness and colors of precious stones, and he describes the natural features of the earth, the beauty of the forests, the rivers, and the abundant springs, both of fresh water and of hot water from below the surface. Next he wonders at the landscapes of the plains and the mountains, how the one is more fertile for our utility and the other more agreeable by its diversity. Are not the mountains "the most visible sign of the grandeur of God?" Gregory passes on to consider the sea, its magnitude, its docility, its sands, and its boats. From the sea, the discourse rises upward to the air and to the sky and to what is above the sky. Gregory marvels at the atmospheric phenomena of wind, snow, ice, rain, thunder, lightning, and clouds; then he wonders at the stars, the moon, and the sun; then the seasons and the movement of the constellations. Finally, the oration ascends to "angels, archangels, thrones, dominions, principalities, and powers."" St. Gregory's remarkable description of the cosmos has two features that are relevant to an understanding of Early Christian works of art. The first is that a large proportion of the work is taken up by the creatures of earth, sea, and air, which are described before any other parts of the universe. We shall find that artists also liked to portray the diversity of Creation through its living things. The second feature to be noted is that nowhere does Gregory give a symbolic meaning to any element of Creation, animate or inanimate. He admires the various parts of Creation simply as wonders of God's handiwork. A completely literal approach to the Creation story can also be found in some writers of the fifth century. If, for example, we take the Questions on the Pentateuch, which was composed after 453 by Theodoret, the bishop of Cyrus near Antioch, we discover that for the most part the interpretation of the first chapter of Genesis keeps to the letter of the text. 12 In some places the bishop explicitly excludes an allegorical reading, as he does in response to the question: "What kind of spirit moved across the face of the water?" Theodoret explains that this spirit, which is mentioned in the second verse of Genesis, seems to some to have been the Holy Spirit, which vivified the nature of the waters, designating in some way the grace of baptism. But I think the more truthful explanation is that here [the scripture] is calling the air the spirit. For when it had said that [God] created heaven and earth [Genesis r:r], and had mentioned the waters under [the name of] the deep [Genesis r:2], by necessity it also made mention of the air, which extends from the surface of the water to heaven. ' 3
20
EARTH AND OCEAN
Theodoret therefore rejects any allegorical interpretation of the spirit moving across the waters, such as a reference to baptism; it is the physical element of air, and no more. In the sixth century also, some authors were ready to reject any allegorical interpretations of the Creation. For example, Procopius of Gaza, when discussing the animals in his Commentaries on Genesis, called the allegorists not dissimilar to pagans, for they "think that they magnify the Holy Scriptures by inventing vain allegories for us, by which they confirm their own notions, but not Holy Scripture. " 14
THE BATHS AT GAZA AND ANTIOCH It is now time to turn to the created world in art; in the remainder of this chapter I shall look first at the various ways by which artists tried to encompass this tremendous subject, and then I will try to identify some visual portrayals of Earth and Ocean that correspond to the literal treatments of the Hexaemeron in texts. The artist who set out to portray all of Creation was faced with the problem of reducing this vast theme, whose variety and diversity were celebrated at such length by writers such as Gregory of Nazianzus, to manageable proportions, so that it could be portrayed within the limitations of space available to him. He had to achieve this feat while using the artistic vocabulary that he had inherited from his trade, whether he was a maker of floor mosaics, a wood or stone carver, or a weaver of textiles. Even if the artist restricted himself to portraying only the land and the sea, the task of illustrating their variety was a considerable one. In general, the early Byzantine artists solved the task in one of two ways. The first method was to use personifications, representing such divisions of the universe as Earth and Ocean. The second method was to indicate these divisions by showing a selection of characteristic motifs from each, such as animals and plants from the earth and marine creatures from the sea. A good example of the first method of portraying Creation is the lost painting of the universe that adorned a vault in a bathhouse in Gaza and was described by John of Gaza, the sixth-century orator who lived in that city. John begins his description of the painting with two rhetorical invocations, the first to Apollo and the second to the Christian Creator, the root of all life. 15 He goes on to describe a painting that contained well over fifty figures, each personifying a different part of the cosmos. For example, he saw earth portrayed as a woman, with long spread-out hair in which were ears of wheat; she held a horn of plenty, while her fertility was also personified by her twin children, the fruits (karpoi). 16 Other personifications who appeared in the painting at Gaza included two women, identified by John as Europe and Asia, the Sea (Thalassa), surrounded by marine creatures, the Ocean and the Depths, the four Seasons, and climatic elements such as the four Winds, Thunder, Lightning, and Cloud. The Moon also was portrayed, together with Phosphoros and Orthros, both allegories that referred to the sun. There was also a phoenix, whichJohn ofGaza said was a symbol of the eternal cycle of the sun. As we have seen, a Christian accent was provided at the center of the whole picture by a golden cross set against three concentric rings of blue. 17 Apart from the setting of this cross, which John described as a symbol of the Trinity, he did not read Christian symbolism into the cosmic elements he saw portrayed. Some aspects of the picture of the cosmos described by John of Gaza can be visualized with the aid of a fourth-century floor mosaic from a bathhouse ("BathE") in Antioch. 18 This floor, which was found in the large hall of the baths, had a big rectangular panel in the center
THE LITERAL SENSE
2I
showing personifications of Earth, identified by an inscription as "Ge," together with her children ("Karpoi"), as well as Field ("Aroura") and another personification, who is probably the land of Egypt ("Aigyptos") (fig. 8). The depiction of Earth and her children corresponds to the description of these figures by John of Gaza. In both bathhouses, for example, the lady had long strands of hair that were adorned with stalks of wheat. At Antioch the central panel of the floor was surrounded by four smaller rectangular panels and four square panels, which together made up a frame (fig. 9). From what survives of these outer panels, it appears that they were devoted to subjects representing water. Each of the four small rectangular panels held a sea thiasos, with nereids riding on the backs of sea centaurs. The one preserved corner square contains personifications of a river ("Eurotas") and of the country ("Lacedaemonia") through which the river flowed. The overall arrangement of the floor, then, presents personifications connected with the land in the central field and figures connected with water in the framing panels. This composition of the earth surrounded by the waters is one that we shall frequently meet again in our study of early Byzantine floor mosaics. For now, it may be noted that the composition corresponds to a common concept of late antique cosmography. The idea that the earth was encircled by a continuous sea was familiar to the Romans and was taken over by Early Christian writers. ' 9 Eusebius, for example, wrote in his In Praise of Constantine: "In the middle, like a core, He [God] laid out the earth, and then encircled this with Ocean to embellish its outline with dark-blue color. " 20 The modern reader may perhaps object that the central panel at Antioch is surrounded not only by figures connected with the sea but also by a river. However, we shall find that in early Byzantine monuments this distinction is not necessarily recognized. In otht;r mosaics also, river life may be included among sea creatures in the band of "sea" that encircles the central "earth." In one of these mosaics, a floor from Nikopolis, an inscription specifically identifies the pavement as a portrayal of Earth and Ocean. 21
THE CHURCH OF DUMETIOS AT NIKOPOLIS We turn now from the decorations of secular bathhouses to consider depictions of Earth and Ocean in ecclesiastical contexts. With some notable exceptions, artists working in churches generally did not represent these geographical entities as human figures but preferred instead to illustrate characteristic motifs from land and sea, such as plants, land animals, birds, and aquatic creatures. 22 On occasion, early Byzantine artists showed personifications of rivers, of the months, or of the seasons, but more rarely did they personify Earth and Sea themselves. Possibly their reluctance was due to a lingering fear of idolatry; the half-naked female personifications of Ge and Thalassa may have been too reminiscent of pagan deities to have been at home in churches, even on the floor. In this connection, it is significant that John of Gaza, when he described the painting of the world in the baths, referred to the personification of Thalassa as an Aphrodite rising shining from the foam. 23 Another reason why artists working in churches preferred to depict the world by means of a selection of plants and animals may have been that sermons and commentaries set the example by depicting the world in such terms. 24 Gregory of Nazianzus stressed the living beings in his description of the world; we shall discover that many other writers also emphasized this aspect of Creation. 25 Most of the depictions of the world that survive from churches are floor mosaics, but the life of the world was also depicted on walls and ceilings. The orator Choricius describes how the eastern wall of the atrium of St. Stephen in Gaza was decorated with "everything the sea brings
22
EARTH AND OCEAN
forth and all the tribute of the earth: there is hardly anything you could look for that is not included, and a great deal that you would not expect to see. " 26 In spite of such variety, an artist could not possibly portray within a defined space every plant and creature under the sun. He had to make a selection. But the necessity for selection imposed a difficulty: How was the designer of a work of art to convey the idea that the relatively few motifs he had chosen stood for the whole terrestrial world? By the sixth century Byzantine artists had reached two solutions to the prc>blem. The first was to arrange the motifs cartographically, so that the ocean was seen to surround the earth. The second solution was to divide the motifs into separate categories, such as sea creatures, birds, and land animals, which corresponded to the phases of Creation. The most famous example of a mosaic showing the earth surrounded by the ocean is the floor of the north transept of the basilica of Dumetios in Nikopolis, which dates to the second quarter of the sixth century (fig. IO). 27 The square mosaic has a central field containing a line of trees. From left to right we see: a cypress tree, an apple tree, two cypresses, a pomegranate tree, two cypresses, a pear tree, and another cypress. Flowers grow under the trees, and in front of them two large birds stand facing each other. To the left of the central tree a smaller bird was originally to be seen pecking at the ground. 28 In the sky eight more birds fly around the tops of the branches. No other creatures appeared in the central field. Around this panel there is a border containing a chain of medallions, each enclosing a bird with a ribbon on its neck. Around this border is another broader band, which frames the whole floor; it contains blue water filled with a considerable variety of water creatures and plants (figs. I I and I2). There are fish of different shapes and sizes, octopuses, shellfish, water birds, water plants such as the lotus, and fishermen. Below the landscape in the central panel there is an inscription that leaves the viewer in no doubt concerning the subject of the mosaic: Here you see the famous and boundless ocean Containing in its midst the earth Bearing round about in the skilful images of art everything that breathes and creeps The foundation of Dumetios, the great-hearted archpriest. 29 The mosaic is, then, a picture of the terrestrial world, which shows the land surrounded by the sea. It should be noted that some of the motifs in the border, such as the ducks sitting in lotus cups, are scenes of river life, in particular that of the Nile (fig. I2); nevertheless, the inscription shows that they signify the encircling ocean. As Ernst Kitzinger has shown, the floor at Nikopolis relates to cosmological concepts of its period. 30 Here the notions of the sixth-century geographer Cosmas Indicopleustes are especially relevant. 3 ' In his Christian Topography this author reconciled the geography of Strabo with the data given in the Bible; he described at length how the land that we inhabit is surrounded by the ocean, and he illustrated his ideas with a map of the world, which is preserved in three later copies of his treatiseY A drawing of this map (fig. IJ) survives in the ninth-century manuscript in the Vatican (MS. gr. 699, fol. 40v.). 33 In the center of the diagram is the inhabited earth, which is in the shape of a rectangle. Around the earth is a broad band representing the ocean. From the ocean, four large gulfs open into the central land: they are identified as the "Romaic Gulf" (the Mediterranean), the "Arabian Gulf" (the Red Sea), the "Persian Gulf," and the "Caspian Sea." Around the rectangular band of sea there is another band, which represents "the earth beyond the ocean." This land extends to the east to enclose the Earthly Paradise,
THE LITERAL SENSE
23
which is represented as a rectangle containing eight trees bearing fruit. The Earthly Paradise is of course no longer inhabited by men, for as the poet A vitus wrote in the early sixth century: "This sacred land now holds heavenly angels instead of the guilty beings who were rightly driven from the seat of bliss. " 34 From Paradise flow its four rivers; they pass under the ocean and reemerge in the inhabited earth as the Euphrates, the Tigris, and the Phison, all of which flow into the "Persian Gulf," and the river Gehon, or Nile, which flows into the "Romaic Gulf." If we compare the floor at Nikopolis with the map of Cosmas, we see that the mosaic shows only the central, inhabited earth and the surrounding ocean. Paradise and the "earth beyond the ocean" are not depicted in our mosaic. However, it should be noted that the conventions used by the map to portray the Earthly Paradise are quite similar to those used by the mosaic to portray the Earth. In each case we see a line of fruit trees enclosed in a frame. Fruit trees therefore could signify Earth or Paradise, according to their context. A close parallel to the mosaic at Nikopolis is provided by the illustrations of the creation of the land animals in two later Byzantine manuscripts, the Octateuch in the Seraglio Library (fig. 14)3 5 and the Octateuch formerly in the Evangelical School at Smyrna. 36 Each miniature shows a maplike view of the earth surrounded by the ocean, which is similar to the diagram of Cosmas, except that in the two Octateuch miniatures the land contains trees and a variety of four-footed beasts, while the ocean is filled with sea creatures, as in the floor at Nikopolis. Although the two miniatures are of twelfth-century date, they must reflect an earlier model, which was probably created by an artist who used the map of Cosmas as a guide. 37 Some commentators on the mosaic at Nikopolis have been struck by the apparent hyperbole of the inscription: Quoting from Homer, the verses claim that the depiction of earth is "bearing round about in the skilful images of art everything that breathes and creeps. " 38 Yet all we actually see are trees, flowers, and a number of birds. However, it is evident that here the parts stand for the whole; the few plants and birds are intended to evoke the whole range of terrestrial flora and fauna. 39 The designer has had to make a selection, as indeed would any person who wished to portray all of Earth and Sea by means ofliving things. But the designer made his meaning clear by arranging his chosen motifs according to a commonly understood cosmographic scheme. 40 It is now time to consider how the mosaic at Nikopolis may relate to the early Byzantine texts on the created world that we reviewed earlier. The inscription explicitly identifies the floor as a portrayal of Earth and Ocean, but it gives no hint of any further allegorical meanings. The mosaic and its explanatory inscription therefore seem to be analogous to those texts that describe the component parts of Creation but do not allegorize them or give them symbolic significance. What the mosaic presents to us is the land and the sea in their literal sense. Of course, here I am speaking of the apparent intentions expressed by the hexameters in the inscription. It is entirely possible that viewers could have read allegorical meanings into the mosaic on their own account, just as they could if they heard the parts of Creation being described literally in a sermon. In analyzing the iconography of Earth and Ocean in Byzantine art, it is helpful to make a distinction between metonymy and metaphor, or between sign and symbolY From the point of view of the inscription, the motifs on the floor at Nikopolis should be termed signs, because they stand for the larger entities (Earth and Ocean) of which they are parts: That is, they are examples of metonymy. The inscription does not invite us to interpret the motifs as symbols; we are not asked to give them metaphorical or allegorical meanings that belong to different contexts. For example, the fish in the border were clearly meant to be signs standing for the
24
EARTH AND OCEAN
sea, but there is no indication either in the inscription or in the design of the mosaic that the fish were also intended to be symbols standing for extraneous concepts such as Christian souls in baptismal waters. Not all Byzantine depictions of the world were so literal; in later chapters we shall see that the designers of some cosmographic mosaics demonstrably did intend the plants and creatures to carry symbolic meanings.
THE BASILICA OF THYRSOS AT TEGEA The layout of the floor in the north transept of the church of Dumetios at Nikopolis is repeated in several other pavements that have been found around the eastern half of the Mediterranean. In all of these mosaics there is a framed rectangle containing motifs signifying the earth or its produce, which is surrounded by a border containing aquatic life representing the ocean. A well-known example of this type of floor exists at Tegea, in Arcady, where the visitor can see the remains of a mosaic that once adorned the nave of a three-aisled basilica built, according to its inscription, by one Thyrsos (fig. rs)Y This basilica, which had impost blocks carved with crosses, was in all likelihood a church. The mosaic is not precisely dated, but it probably belongs to the late fifth century. 43 The inscription is placed at the western end of the floor, in order to greet the visitor coming into the building. In somewhat fulsome terms it eulogizes the founder while drawing attention to the building and to its "well-constructed decoration" (eusynthetos kosmos). 44 Kosmos, which I have translated as "decoration," can of course mean "universe"; thus there is a possibility that the word could also be read in the latter sense as a reference to the subject matter of the mosaic. 45 However, since the inscription is incomplete, it is not possible to claim with any certainty that such a double sense was intended here. 46 Nevertheless, if the inscription does not explicitly say that the nave mosaic portrays the whole cosmos, the arrangement of the images makes it very likely that the floor represents at least the terrestrial world. Although parts of the mosaic have been lost, its general scheme is quite clear. The framed rectangle was divided into sixteen squares, set in two parallel rows of eight (fig. rs). Of these, the pair of squares at the east end and the pair at the west end showed the four Rivers of Paradise; Gehon (the Nile) and Phison were nearest the apse, while Tigris and Euphrates were nearest the entrance. Each of the rivers was personified as a half-length figure and held an attribute; Tigris and Euphrates, the best preserved of the rivers, hold, respectively, a vase from which water flows and a cornucopia (fig. r6). The remaining twelve squares in the central rectangle contained busts of the months of the year, starting at the eastern end with January and February and running through to November and December at the west. The months, like the rivers, were personified as half-length figures carrying their produce or other attributes. Thus March, dressed as a warrior, holds a lance and a shield, July holds a sickle and a sheaf of wheat (fig. 17), August clutches a melon and an outsized aubergine (fig. r8), September presents a tray of fruit, and October pours wine from a bottle. February, meanwhile, is wrapped up in a garment against the cold of winter (fig. 19). The rivers and the months were originally accompanied by their names and, in the case of May, an additional epithet of "kalos kairos," or "beautiful season" (fig. 20). The central rectangle containing the months and the rivers is surrounded by a border of octagons containing a variety of marine creatures (fig. 2r). Here we see different varieties of fish: dolphins, cuttlefish, octopuses, lobster, and crab. Interspersed with the marine life are a few inanimate objects such as vases, but no land animals or birds.
THE LITERAL SENSE
25
In discussing the interpretation of this floor, I shall start with what appears to be the literal sense and then consider possible allegorical meanings. As Anastasios Orlandos suggested in his publication of the mosaic, the literal content of the floor appears to be the earth, signified by the twelve months, surrounded by the ocean, signified by the sea creatures. 47 The layout is parallel to that of the Nikopolis floor, except that here the artist has selected the months with their seasonal activities and produce as signs to represent the earth, whereas the artist at Nikopolis selected a few birds and plants. The four Rivers of Paradise, which are enclosed by the border of sea creatures, present a more difficult problem, and several interpretations have been proposed for them. One suggestion has been that the pavement represents the Earthly Paradise described in the book of Genesis and by the church fathers. 48 But we cannot take the floor as a whole to represent the Earthly Paradise, in its literal sense, because Early Christian writers agreed that there is no succession or harshness of seasons in the Earthly Paradise, but only one perpetual temperate climate, in which flowers bloom and fruit are ripe all at the same time and forever. This idea was derived both from the Bible and from pagan tradition. The book of Revelation says that the Tree of Life, which Genesis places in the Earthly Paradise, bore fruit every month of the year. 49 In addition, the Christian writers' conception of Paradise owed much to ancient descriptions of the Elysian fields, that place in which, as Homer said: "The easiest kind of living comes to humans, where with no snow, no hard winter, and no storms of rain, the clear blowing winds of Zephyr are sent from the ocean to refresh men. " 50 In Early Christian literature there are vivid descriptions of the gentle climate of the Earthly Paradise, such as this passage in a sermon attributed spuriously to St. Basil the Great: In that place there is no violence of winds, none of the excesses of the seasons, no hail, no furious storms, no thunderbolts, no wintry ice, no dampness of spring, no heat and burning of summer, no dryness of autumn; but a temperate and peaceful mutual concord of the seasons of the year, each adorned with its own beauty, and unthreatened by its neighbor. For neither does heat, perhaps coming unseasonably early, ruin the flowers of spring; nor do the fruits of summer and autumn waste and perish as a result of being burnt by frequent disturbances of the atmosphere. 51 Ephrem Syrus likewise, in his tenth hymn on Paradise, abolishes the seasons: In the temperate air, which, on the outside, embraces [Paradise], the neighboring months show themselves to be tempered: somber February laughs here like May; December, in spite of its frost and its cold wind, here is like August with its fruits. June here is like April, and July, in spite of its dog days, here provides itself with the dew of October. Our miserable months become like Eden. 52 A vitus, in his epic poem on Genesis, describes the earthly Paradise in similar terms, saying that there are no seasons in that place, "since winter is lacking and there is no scorched summer, autumn with its fruits and spring with its flowers fill the whole year. 53 These passages, stressing the uniformity of the months in the Earthly Paradise, are quite contrary to the content of the mosaic at Tegea, which presents our changing months with the produce, qualities, and activities unique to each, including the negative features such as the winter's cold and the warfare of early spring. It is difficult, for this reason, to interpret the months and the rivers together as a portrayal of the Earthly Paradise. But is it possible that
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EARTH AND OCEAN
the designer of the floor intended us to read the four rivers apart from the months, so that the months would signify the inhabited earth and the rivers the Earthly Paradise? The difficulty with this interpretation is the separation of the four rivers by the months. If the floor had been meant to illustrate the Earth and the Earthly Paradise, one would have expected the rivers to be grouped together at their source in Paradise, whereas in fact they appear at the four corners of the rectangle containing the months, as if they were irrigating the inhabited earth and its produce (fig. I 5). For this reason, I would prefer to read the four rivers in the mosaic as the four principal rivers of the inhabited earth, which, to be sure, have their ultimate origin in Paradise. If we refer again to the Christian Topography of Cosmas Indicopleustes and to the map preserved in the manuscripts, we find that for Cosmas, as the map shows, the four Rivers of Paradise first flow out of the Garden of Eden and then reemerge again to water the inhabited earth (fig. 13). On the map, only the rivers of the inhabited earth are enclosed by the ocean, for Paradise lies beyond the ocean to the east. I am proposing, then, that the mosaic at Tegea corresponds to the portion of the map that illustrates the inhabited earth and the ocean that surrounds it; therefore the mosaic excludes Paradise. Besides that of Cosmas Indicopleustes, several other texts on the created world describe how the four rivers flow from Paradise and then become the rivers we know in our part of the earth. For example, Ephrem Syrus, commenting on Genesis, says that "the four Rivers which flow from the fountain of Paradise . . . have been absorbed in the periphery of Paradise, and they have descended in the middle of the sea as if by an aqueduct, and the earth makes each one spring forth in its place. " 54 In the same passage Ephrem informs us that the waters of our rivers do not taste the same as the waters of the fountain in Paradise. Another author who speaks of the Rivers of Paradise as the rivers of this earth, and who describes them as such, is A vitus, in his poem on Genesis. After telling how the four streams spring from the fountain in Eden, he identifies Gehon with the Nile and Phison with the Ganges in India, and he describes both at some length. Here he is primarily concerned with the physical and geographical characteristics of the rivers in the inhabited earth; for example, he devotes several lines to the annual floods of the Nile in Egypt. 55 The basilica at Tegea is one of several early Byzantine churches that have mosaics or carvings portraying the earth and the ocean situated in their naves. 56 This arrangement was far from universal, but it does fit with the symbolic interpretations of the church given by Maxim us the Confessor, a writer of the seventh century. In one passage of his Mystagogia Maxim us equates the whole church with the physical universe, calling the sanctuary, which is restricted to the priests and ministrants, a symbol of the heaven, and the nave, which is open to the laity, a symbol of the earth: "[The church] has the holy sanctuary as heaven, but it possesses the fitting appearance of the nave as earth. So likewise the universe is the church. For it has the heaven like a sanctuary and the ordering of the earth like a nave. " 57 If it seems reasonable to propose that the nave pavement at Tegea represents the terrestrial world, without the Earthly Paradise, it is still necessary to ask whether its designers intended it to be interpreted only in the literal sense of the inhabited earth and the sea, or whether the individual motifs were meant to carry symbolic meanings as well. Both the twelve months and the four Rivers of Paradise were capable of symbolic interpretation. For. example, some texts on the Hexaemeron allegorize the fruits of the seasons in relation to the faithful in the Church. The third-century writer Origen, commenting on the creation of the plants on the third day, identifies the earth with Christians who should bring abundant and varied fruits to God. 58 The Byzantine author George of Pisidia, in his seventh-century poem on the cosmos, describes the seasons and compares the heat of the actual sun, which ripens the
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27
crops, to the spark of the "intelligible" sun, which nourishes fruit in the unfruitful heart. 59 In a discussion of the creation of the plants that is contained in a Latin sermon attributed spuriously to St. Augustine, we find the crops allegorized as the catechumens growing to maturity in the church: "The catechumens are like grass: when they believe, it is as if they rise up into stalks. The faithful also grow into ripe ears; whence also the grain of the saints is laid up in celestial granaries. " 60 A passage that appears particularly apposite to the Tegea mosaic, because it combines harvest imagery with that of irrigating waters, can be found in the Carmen Paschale of Sedulius, of the fifth century. Sedulius appeals to the "sons of Theseus" to forsake the dusty and sterile ground of paganism and instead to "enter the pleasant green grass of ever flourishing groves and the blessed places through the pious springs, where the seeds of life are animated by divine waters, and the crop made fertile by the celestial fount is cleansed ... so that it may be the harvest of God and that it may heap up fruit one hundredfold. " 61 These texts, to which others could be added, 62 demonstrate that in the fifth century it would have been possible to allegorize the produce of the seasons as the fruits of the human heart. Another meaning that the church fathers gave to the months and seasons was to interpret their renewal, although cyclic, as a reminder and demonstration of the Resurrection. "Every month," said St. Augustine, "the moon is born, grows, comes to fullness, diminishes, is consumed, and is renewed." From this month-by-month renewal, we must believe in the one Resurrection. 63 The same idea was expressed in varying forms by other Early Christian writers. 64 In view of the passages quoted above, we might be tempted to read the months in the Tegea mosaic as symbols, either of the Resurrection or of the fruitfulness of the faithful in the Church. However, it should be said that some commentaries on the Hexaemeron treat the months and seasons in a purely literal sense. For example, the influential late fourth-century sermons on the Creation by St. Basil the Great describe the seasons but do not make them into Christian symbols, even though the sermons do allegorize other aspects of the world. 65 And if we turn from texts to the Tegea mosaic itself, we find no pointers to symbolism surviving in the design or in the inscriptions. The words "kalos kairos," or "beautiful season," that were attached to the personification of May, imply no more than an admiration for the beauties of spring (fig. 20). 66 Nor are there in the mosaic any personifications of concepts such as "renewal," which we sometimes find associated with the seasons elsewhere. It is instructive to contrast the Tegea mosaic with another floor of the second half of the fifth century, which was discovered in a building north of St. Paul's Gate at Antioch. In the Antioch mosaic we find the four seasons appearing as busts in a circular wreath of fruit and leaves that encloses a personification of "ananeosis," or "renewal" (fig. 22). 67 The designer at Antioch left his viewers with little doubt that he wished his seasons to be interpreted symbolically. But the designer at Tegea has given no pointers to indicate that he wished the twelve months to be read in any other than their literal sense. The same conclusion applies to the four rivers. They were indeed capable of several symbolic interpretations, but at Tegea the artist does not guide us to them. In his publication of the mosaic, Orlandos rightly observed that in Early Christian literature the four Rivers of Paradise were often associated with the four Evangelists. 68 In a letter of the mid-third century, St. Cyprian states that: "Ecclesia, portraying the likeness of Paradise, included within her walls fruit-bearing trees ... [which] she waters with four Rivers, that is, with the four Gospels, wherewith . . . she bestows the grace of saving baptism. " 69 Several other Early Christian writers, including St. Jerome and St. Augustine, linked the Evangelists with the Rivers of Paradise. 70 In some contexts the designers of works of art also certainly wished to convey this message. For example, an inscription composed by Paulinus of Nola, for the apse mosaic of the
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basilica that he built before the year 403 at Nola, identified the four rivers in that mosaic with the four Gospels: He [Christ] himself, the rock of the Church, is standing on a rock From which four seething springs issue, The Evangelists, the living streams of Christ. 7 ' As we have seen from the letter of Cyprian, the four rivers were also capable of interpretation as symbols of baptism. In certain baptisteries the four rivers were either portrayed or were recalled through an inscription. 72 But since the building at Tegea was not a baptistery, we cannot be certain that the same symbolism was intended there. In several texts on Creation, as has been shown, the Rivers of Paradise are related neither to baptism nor to the Evangelists, but are simply described as flowing out of Paradise to become earthly rivers. In their accounts of the world, Epiphanius of Salamis in the fourth century, 73 Severian of Gabala in the late fourth or early fifth century,74 and Avitus in the sixth century75 all treated the four rivers in their literal sense only. At Tegea, neither the design of the mosaic nor its inscriptions lead the viewer to any symbolic interpretation of the rivers. In the apse at Nola, where Paulinus did intend the rivers to symbolize the Evangelists, he explained his intent to his audience through a verse inscription. 76 It is only possible therefore to be sure that the mosaic at Tegea was intended to represent the earth surrounded by the ocean. The designer conveyed this meaning by the manner in which he arranged the images from nature on the floor. The individual motifs, the months and the four rivers, certainly had the potential for further symbolic interpretation, but neither the design of the mosaic nor its inscriptions encourage the spectator to go beyond the literal sense.
THE CHURCH OF ST. CATHERINE AT MOUNT SINAI Another literal portrayal of the life of Earth and Ocean can be found in the basilica of St. Catherine in the monastery at Mount Sinai. This church was built by the emperor Justinian; the construction took place some time after the death of his Empress, Theodora, in 548, as can be inferred from an inscription cut into one of the panels sheathing the sides of the thirteen beams across the ceiling of the nave. 77 On the undersides of these beams there are wooden panels decorated with carvings, which are contemporary with the inscriptions (fig. 23).7 8 Seven of the panels beneath the beams are adorned by rinceaux only, but the other six display friezes of creatures and plants. 79 The flora and fauna are divided according to their respective habitats on land or in water, and on each panel they flank a central cross enclosed by a circular frame such as a wreath or a rosette. The first of the beams, counted from the east of the nave, presents a frieze of creatures of the land: a hare, two oxen, two peacocks, and an antelope, set among flowering plants (figs. 24 and 25). The third beam from the east displays an assortment of sea creatures: a turtle, fish of various shapes, shells, a crab, cuttlefish, eels, and an octopus (figs. 26 and 27). On the fifth beam we find a frieze of birds and animals set among plants and eating from spilling baskets of fruit; they include a fox, two ibexes, two pheasants, and a hare, as well as four birds, which are too indistinct to identify. On the sixth beam the frieze is made up entirely of beasts of the earth: a horse, a camel, a boar, an elephant, a bear, an ass, a goat, a dog, a hare, a tiger, an ox, and a
THE LITERAL SENSE
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lion, all set in grape rinceaux (figs. 28 and 29). On the ninth beam we find only birds, including cocks, doves, and peacocks, among flowering plants and spilling baskets of fruit (figs. 30 and 3 1). The twelfth beam is primarily devoted to the life of the river Nile: Among outsized lotus plants we see two crocodiles, two boats containing human figures, two large birds, two tritons holding up the central wreath containing the cross, and two more crocodiles, which are attempting to swallow oxen (figs. 32 and 33). The last motif, the combat of a crocodile and a large land animal, was traditionally associated with a Nilotic setting. Pliny, for example, wrote that the artist Nealkes added a group of a crocodile ambushing an ass to a painting of a naval battle in order to show that the engagement took place on the river Nile. 80 The two large birds are probably ostriches, which could also signify an Egyptian locale. Thus four of the beams at Mount Sinai are decorated with motifs belonging to the land, that is, with quadrupeds, birds, fruits, and plants, while two of the beams display motifs associated with water, that is, sea creatures and the scenes of the Nile. The division of the subjects between land and water and the great range of creatures portrayed make it likely that these reliefs were intended to portray the natural history of the terrestrial world. 8' The inclusion of Nilotic motifs among the "waters" of Creation is paralleled both by texts and by other works of art. We have already found ducks in lotus plants incorporated into the "ocean" at Nikopolis (fig. 12); and we shall see that other contemporary floor mosaics represent the waters of the world by means of the flora and fauna of the Nile. 82 Byzantine authors also associated the Nile with the waters of Creation. For example, a sermon by Anastasios links the rise and fall of that river to the gathering of the waters and the creation of dry land described in verse 9 of the first chapter of Genesis. 83 The sixth-century commentary by Procopius of Gaza includes such typical Nilotic animals as crocodiles and hippopotami among the "creeping things" created from the waters on the fifth day. 84 The crosses at the center of each frieze are also relevant to the overall theme of the carvings. It will be recalled that John of Gaza described a cross enclosed by a circular frame in the center of a painting of the world that he saw in the early sixth century in Gaza. He explains its significance in that context: "Four extremities grew [out of the cross], because the primeval age was east, west, south, and north, having accomplished the holding together of the world from these four. " 85 Other Early Christian writers also saw the four arms of the cross as signifying the four cardinal directions. In the fifth century Maximus of Turin wrote: "Heaven itself is disposed in the figure of this sign [the cross]. For since it is divided into four parts, that is, into east, west, south, and north, it is contained as if by the four angles of the cross. " 86 In a commentary spuriously attributed to St. Jerome, the shape of the cross was simply the "squared form of the world. " 87 The cross of course could carry many messages, but when it appeared in the context of the life of the world, as it did at Sinai, it could add a cosmic significance to its other meanings. The world created by God was indeed an especially suitable theme for a church at Mount Sinai, for it was here that God had revealed to Moses the history of the first six days of the world. In his Christian Topography, Cosmas Indicopleustes says that God spent six days on Mount Sinai showing to Moses a series of visions, which Cosmas describes as a virtual day-byday rerun of the Creation. 88 I believe, then, that the carvings on the beams of St. Catherine's church were intended to depict the plants, fruits, and living creatures of Creation, divided according to their habitats. But was this their only significance, or did the carvers also intend the various motifs to carry additional symbolic meanings? Fish and birds, for example, were often used as metaphors for the Christian soul in Early Christian art and literature. 89 Therefore it is conceivable that the fish
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on the third beam were more than signs of the abundance of the seas, but were also intended to represent Christian souls in the waters of life. Likewise, the birds among plants and baskets of fruit on the ninth beam might possibly have been more than signs of the earth's bountiful produce and of the variety of the creatures of the air; they might also have been symbols of souls in Paradise (figs. 27 and 3 I). 90 But if such symbolism was intended by the carvers of the beams at Mount Sinai, they did very little to guide the viewer to it. In subsequent chapters we shall see that in other portrayals of created life artists alerted the spectator when they wished motifs to be read symbolically, either by inscriptions, or by personifications, or by emphasizing certain motifs with compositional means such as special frames. But at Sinai the carvers of the beams did not provide their viewers with such pointers to symbolism; there is little apparent need for us to see the creatures and vegetation as anything more than signs, which stand for the divisions of Creation from which they were selected. In the same way, it is not necessary to go beyond the description of Creation in order to explain the sixth beam from the east, which presents a frieze of quadrupeds. It has been suggested that these creatures represent the Animal Paradise of the Messianic age prophesied by Isaiah. 9 ' However, if we look at the animals on this panel we find that, with one exception, they are not arranged in the pairs specified by Isaiah. The prophet wrote: "The wolf shall feed with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid, and the calf and the bull and the lion shall feed together. ... The ox and the bear shall feed ... and the lion shall eat straw like an ox. " 92 Of these pairs, only the lion and the ox appear together on the beam at Sinai, at the right-hand end (fig. 28). But, in the carving, these two animals do not face each other in order to eat straw together, as they do in the mosaic at Karhk in Cilicia, where the words of Isaiah are quoted in ap inscription above them (fig. 34). 93 On the contrary, at Sinai the lion runs after the ox, as if in pursuit. If the carvers of this frieze did have the Animal Paradise in mind, they did not make it obvious. There is indeed little in the sculptures of this beam to guide the viewer beyond the literal sense, which is that these creatures, together with those on the other beams at Sinai, represent examples of God's Creation. 94
III
Partial Allegory
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
T
HE last chapter considered those writers who interpreted the created world in its literal sense, and it suggested some portrayals of Earth and Ocean in art that also admit a literal reading. This chapter will look at patristic authors who ostensibly rejected the allegorical interpretation of Creation but still managed to slip in the odd allegory where it suited their purpose. A prime example of this type of treatment, which may be termed partial allegory, is the magnificent commentary on the first six days of Creation written by St. Basil the Great. The work is divided into nine homilies that were preached over five days during Lent in the year 378. 1 The sermons were extremely successful: St. Ambrose imitated them in his own Hexameron, and they were soon available in a Latin translation by Eustathius, which was used by St. Augustine. Later Byzantine writers, such as John Philoponos in the sixth century, also used them. 2 Basil's commentary covers the whole of Creation, and he is at pains to point out that his interpretation keeps to the letter of the text. Thus, when Basil considers the waters above the firmament (Genesis 1:7), he accuses the allegorists of making them symbols of incorporeal powers, and he calls their ideas "dream interpretations and old women's tales." "Let us consider water as water," Basil says. 3 Nor does he allegorize the gathering of the waters (Genesis 1:9), which other authors explained as the assembling of all the peoples into the Church. 4 Later, when he comes to consider the creation of the beasts and plants, Basil says again: Those who cannot accept the scriptures in their common sense, say that water is not water, but some other substance; the words plants and fish they interpret as seems
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good to them; the creation of the reptiles and wild beasts they explain by twisting [the sense] according to their own suppositions, like interpreters of dreams who give whatever meaning they wish to the phantasies that have appeared during sleep. As for me, when I hear grass spoken of, I think of grass: and so also with plants, fish, wild animals, and domestic animals. I accept everything at face value. 5 The principal message of St. Basil's sermons is that the created world can convey, by analogy, an idea of the greatness of its Creator. Basil returns to this theme several times. In the first homily he says: "From the beauty of visible things let us understand Him who is above all beauty. " 6 In his sixth homily he explains that even the most spectacular phenomena of Creation give only a dim inkling of God's power: "Compared to their maker, the sun and the moon are like an insect and an ant. We cannot take from them a true view of the grandeur of the God of the universe; they can only instruct us by small and faint hints, as does each of the smallest of the animals and plants. " 7 In the eighth homily Basil summarizes the wonders of Creation that he has described and explains how his hearers should benefit from contemplating them: "You have, then, the sky with its adornment, the earth with its beauty, the sea flourishing with the creatures that it has engendered, the air filled with the birds that fly through it. All that, by the command of God, has been brought into existence from nothing .... Do not ever cease, then, to wonder or to glorify through all of Creation Him who is the maker of it. " 8 Like Gregory of Nazianzus, St. Basil gives a very thorough description of all that he wishes his audience to admire. In the third and fourth homilies he describes the waters, including the rivers, the seas, and the lakes. In the fifth sermon he tells us of the plants, the flowers, the trees, and the variety of their fruits. The sixth homily is devoted to the heavenly bodies and their influence on the weather, the tides, and the seasons. With the seventh sermon Basil reaches the living beings produced from the waters on the fifth day; this whole homily is a natural history of the sea. In the eighth sermon Basil turns to terrestrial life. He opens with a discussion of the superiority of land animals to fish in the senses of sound, hearing, and sight, as well as in intelligence. Then Basil describes the birds and their variety, followed by the insects. The ninth and last homily is devoted to the beasts of the earth, which were created on the sixth day; we hear about elephants, camels, and, finally, man. For most of his long treatise, St. Basil practices what he preaches, and he keeps to the literal sense of what he is describing. But every now and then he gives to some part of Creation a symbolic meaning, or meanings. A notable example is his treatment of the vine, which comes in his catalogue of the plants created on the third day. After describing the appearance of the vine, St. Basil allegorizes it, taking his cue from three separate biblical passages. He reminds his listeners of the verses on the True Vine in the Gospel of John (rs:r-s): Here, he says, Christ compares himself to the vine, his father to the husbandman, and the faithful to the fruitful branches. Basil also refers to the Lord's vineyard, which is described in Isaiah (s:r-7), and to Christ's parable of the vineyard (Matthew 2r:33-4I). Of these two passages he observes: "It is evidently the human souls that he calls his vine; those which he has surrounded with the security that his precepts give, as if with a fence, and with the guard of his angels." Finally, Basil compares the tendrils of the vine to "the twinings of charity," by which "we cling to our neighbors and rest upon them, so that, in our continual spurts of growth towards heaven, we can, like climbing vines, raise ourselves to the highest summits. " 9 In his discussion of the vine, Basil offers us not one symbolic meaning, but several meanings that shade into each other. ' 0 Frequently St. Basil gives moralistic interpretations to the plants and animals, drawing instructive lessons from the facts of natural history. The short life of flowers is of course an
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image of the fragility of human life. II Less obvious is the moral to be drawn from the behavior of crabs. Crabs, says Basil, are fond of oysters, but they are not strong enough to open the oysters' shells with their claws. So they lie in wait in those sheltered spots where oysters like to sunbathe voluptuously by opening their shells to warm themselves in the rays of the sun. The crab approaches an unsuspecting oyster and furtively flicks a pebble into it, so that the mollusc can no longer close the two halves of its shell. Thus the crab gets its meal. Drawing his moral, St. Basil says that the crabs are like those who obtain their enjoyment from the misfortunes of others-one should avoid all similarity with such people and be content with what one has. I 2 In a similar way Basil draws lessons from the behavior of other sea creatures: The conjugal union of the eel and the viper, for example, shows that wives should put up with their husbands, however venomous their husbands may be. I 3 The birds provide our author with many opportunities for moral instruction: the storks and their concern for the elderly, the swallows and their poverty, the turtle doves and their virtuous widowhood, and, not least, the vultures who prove that the virgin birth is possible. I 4 St. Basil thus makes some parts of Creation into symbols and moralizes others. Another commentator who claimed to keep literally to the account in Genesis but occasionally gave way to allegory was Severian of Gabala, who wrote at the turn of the fourth and fifth centuries. Although he was the bishop of a town in Syria, he also preached successfully in Constantinople. IS He composed six homilies on the Hexaemeron, which, for the most part, keep to the letter of the biblical text. However, when Severian comes to the creation of the creatures and the birds from the waters on the fifth day, he says that those about to be baptized go to the waters as reptiles and snakes in sin but emerge from the waters as soaring birds. This, our worthy bishop declares somewhat defensively, is not allegory, but merely a valid meditation on history. I 6
THE CHURCH AT KHALDE Several floor mosaics provide interesting parallels to the partially allegorized descriptions of the world in Byzantine literature. A mosaic of the second half of the fifth century, which probably portrays the earth surrounded by the ocean, is preserved in a church at Khalde, south of Beirut, in Lebanon (figs. 35-37). I 7 This mosaic was in the western half of the nave, the eastern half being occupied by an extension of the sanctuary. IS The mosaic's field is divided into a grid of diagonal squares by a trellis composed of small flowers. The squares enclose a wide range of beasts, birds, and plants, among which we can recognize a donkey carrying baskets, a sheep, a stag with antlers, a leopard, a boar, a lion, an ostrich, two pheasants, a vase with birds perched on its rim, a basket containing fruits being pecked at by birds, and a tree with a bird in its branches. Around the edges of the field, where the points of the diagonally set squares touch the frame, there is a series of triangles, most of which contain sea creatures. Here we find dolphins, cuttlefish, and true fish of various shapes and sizes, one of which is shown swallowing another. Another of the triangles contains a boat. For the most part, the layout of the surviving floor follows the "Earth surrounded by Ocean" composition of the Nikopolis and Tegea mosaics in that the sea creatures and the boat are concentrated into the triangles bordering the mosaic, while the beasts, plants, and birds occupy the squares in the center. There are, however, a couple of exceptions to this general scheme; one of the bordering triangles contains a motif connected with the land, namely, a bird pecking grapes (fig. 35), while one of the
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squares frames a maritime motif, namely, a second boat (fig. 36). But since this boat is in a square adjacent to the triangles at the edge of the mosaic, it takes its place among the signs of the surrounding sea. Both the wide range of creatures portrayed and their general arrangement argue that the pavement at Khalde should be interpreted as an image of Earth and Ocean signified by their various forms of life; this must be the literal sense. But the designer of the mosaic also indicated that he wished at least one of the motifs to have a symbolic meaning over and above its literal sense. As we have just seen, he placed two ships among the sea creatures in the northeast corner of the floor: a small ship in a triangle and a larger one in an adjoining square (fig. 36). Both vessels are shown with prominent masts and are evidently under sail. These boats can in the first place be read simply as signs that stand for the ocean. Ships were often admired in the commentaries on God's Creation; Gregory of Nazianzus for example, in his literal account of the created world, wrote of the sea: "How can this element carry the sailor from dry land with the aid of a little wood and some wind? Do you not admire this when you see it, and is not your mind astonished by the sight?"' 9 And George of Pisidia, in his poem on the cosmos, tells us that God keeps the sea monsters in the solitary depths, lest they disturb the world's shipping. 20 At one level we can read the ships in the Khalde mosaic as signs that, like the fish, illustrate the marvels of God's Creation. But at another level, the boats were apparently intended to carry a symbolic meaning, for the sail of one of them was flanked by the inscription ploion erenes, or "ship of peace. " 2 ' The words suggest that the ship is to be read as a symbol of the peace to be found in the Christian church. The "ship of peace" at Khalde is reminiscent of the prayer with which St. Ambrose, in his fourth homily on the Hexameron, closes his discussion of the gathering of the waters on the third day: "My God grant us our prayer: to sail on a swift ship under a favorable breeze and finally reach a haven of safety ... that we may not meet with shipwreck to our faith. We pray, also, for a peace profound and ... that we may have as our ever-watchful pilot our Lord Jesus, who by his command can calm the tempest and restore once more the sea's tranquility. " 22 Many Christian writers, both Latin and Greek, used the boat as a metaphor for the Church and for the safety and peace it provided. 23 Some authors associated the ship's mast and sail more specifically with the security of the cross. 24 The inscription attached to the boat in the mosaic, therefore, asks us to consider its metaphorical as well as its literal meanings. 25 None of the other surviving motifs of the Khalde mosaic is accompanied by an inscription. But since both the ship and its legend are enclosed inside a framing square, it is probable that the legend refers to the boat alone, and not to any other subjects on the floor. Some of the creatures in the mosaic, such as the large fish that is shown eating a smaller one, can hardly be considered symbols of peace, but can only be signs standing for the dangerous waters in which they live (fig. 37). The mosaic therefore appears to be analogous to such texts as the Hexaemeron of St. Basil, which treat most of the world literally but give symbolic interpretations to a few of its parts.
THE CHURCH OF SS. COSMAS AND DAMIAN AT GERASA We have seen that the mosaic at Khalde, unlike the mosaic of Earth and Ocean at Nikopolis, presented a relatively wide selection of birds and animals in order to signify the earth. An even bigger collection of creatures can be seen in the nave mosaic of the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa, in Jordan (figs. 33-41). 26 At the eastern end of the mosaic, nearest to the
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sanctuary, a large rectangular inscription records the dedication of the church to the "handsome pair of martyrs," and its date, A. D. 53 3. 27 This inscription is flanked by portraits of two donors, Theodore, on the left, and his wife, Georgia, on the right. The rest of the rectangular floor, as far as it survives, can be visualized as being divided into thirteen rows from east to west; each row contains three or four diagonal squares, which are connected to each other at their points by smaller squares. All of the diagonal squares, except for those in the easternmost row, contain ornamental patterns. Most of the connecting squares, however, frame living things. The diagonal squares in the eastern row contain two more donor portraits and another inscription, which records the offering of the tribune Dagisthaeus. 28 The fourth diagonal square in this row encloses a flourishing vine, to which we shall return (fig. 38). In the square panels that connect the points of the diagonal squares, birds alternate with beasts from row to row (figs. 40-41). As we move from east to west we can recognize among the different species of birds a peahen, a peacock, pheasants, ducks, partridges, doves perched on a vase, a cock, an ibis, a flamingo, and a guinea fowl. In the rows of beasts we can find sheep, hares, a gazelle, a camel, a wild ass, a leaping dog, a tiger, cattle, a goat, lions and a lioness, an elephant, a bear, a horse, and an ibex. In addition, at least one of the square panels in the nave mosaic framed a plant, an acanthus bush, which can be seen in the ninth row from the east (fig. 40). The pavement of this church also portrayed water creatures, for two of the panels bordering the nave mosaic show fish and water birds in an interlace design (fig. 41). These two panels occupy the central spaces between the supports dividing the nave from the north and south aisles; the two other surviving intercolumnar panels, between the eastern supports, have a checkerboard pattern. This carpet of animals at the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian has been described as a "paradise. " 29 But such an interpretation seems unlikely because some of the animals, notably the dog, the bear, and the lions, are shown leaping, as if in pursuit of prey; in Paradise the animals were supposed to be at peace with each other. 30 It is more probable that the mosaic merely portrays the living things of Creation, since a great variety of species is shown, and since the species are divided according to their respective habitats in air, land, and sea. The two inscriptions at the eastern end do not suggest any symbolic significance for the animals and plants portrayed in the mosaic. However, the design of the floor gives a particular emphasis to one motif, the vine. The viewer is alerted to the special significance of this plant not by an inscription but by its position; it is set prominently alongside the donors in the row nearest the sanctuary, and it is framed by a large diagonal square, whereas all the other flora and fauna in the nave are contained by the smaller connecting squares (figs. 38 and 39). It is plain that this vine, with its heavy bunches of grapes, is not just an element of terrestrial Creation, but it carries additional meaning. The whole floor appears to be analogous to the Hexaemeron sermons of Basil the Great, which describe many parts of Creation according to their literal sense but also emphasize the vine as an allegory of Christ, of the human soul, and of the embraces of charity. It is difficult to be too specific about the precise symbolic connotations of the vine in this particular mosaic. Basil himself gave many shades of meaning to the plant, and we have seen that inscriptions in other floor mosaics interpret the vine in a variety of ways. 31 However, we can say at least that the vine in the basilica of SS. Cosmas and Damian was supposed to carry a greater freight of meaning than the other motifs from natural history that were depicted on the floor. It is possible to read the majority of the animals simply as signs that stand for the variety of God's Creation on Earth, but the vine imposes itself as a symbol that refers to such concepts as the True Vine, the Lord's Vineyard, and, perhaps, in view of its relative proximity to the
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altar, the EucharistY Although the vine in the mosaic is essentially an open symbol, some degree of closure may be provided by its three grape clusters, which could be taken as a reference to the Trinity (fig. 39). It can be argued that other isolated motifs within the mosaic were intended to receive symbolic readings. For example, the peacock was given a place of honor in the easternmost row of squares on the central axis of the nave. As we shall see below, the peacock was not only renowned in Early Christian literature as one of the most spectacular adornments of earthly Creation (which alone might account for its prominent position), but it also had a special potential for symbolic interpretation.
THE LARGE BASILICA AT HERAKLEA LYNKESTIS Of all the mosaics portraying Earth and Ocean, the finest in respect to artistic quality is the floor in the narthex of the large basilica at Heraklea Lynkestis in Macedonia (figs. 42-49). 33 This mosaic, which dates either to the early sixth or to the late fifth century, 34 fills the entire width of the vestibule to the church. It is set out according to the same principle as the mosaics at Nikopolis, Tegea, and Khalde, with a central rectangle representing the earth enclosed by a border of water creatures. At Heraklea, as at Nikopolis, the principal motifs of the central field are trees, but the selection of trees is larger and more sophisticated than in the church of Dumetios. The mosaic displays a line of ten trees, which is broken by a central composition enclosed in a wreathlike frame (fig. 43). The two trees growing on either side of the central composition are cypresses. Each of the other eight trees belongs to a different species, clearly identifiable by its own fruit and leaves. Under the trees grow smaller plants, including roses, lilies, and ivy. Animals also can be seen beneath the trees. As we pass from left to right we find a goat standing beneath a pine tree (fig. 44), a lion and a bull charging at each other through the trunks of an apple tree (fig. 45), a dog tied to a fig tree (fig. 46), and a leopard tearing apart a dead hind in the shade of a pomegranate (fig. 47). Birds of different varieties fly around the upper branches. The central composition, which breaks the line of trees, is an oval partially framed by two curving stems of an acanthus plant, which form a wreathlike surround (fig. 43). On its axis stands a vase with handles from which two branches of a vine grow to fill the upper half of the oval with leaves and grapes. The lower half of the framed area is filled with ivy and flowering plants. A hind and a hart stand among the plants on either side of the vase. Above them, a pair of peacocks face each other in the tendrils of the vine. The whole of the central rectangle of the mosaic is surrounded by a border that adjoins the outer walls of the narthex. This border enclosed a series of thirty-six octagons, each containing one or more sea creatures or water birds, including the Nilotic motif of a pair of ducks sitting in a lotus cup (figs. 44 and 48). As Ruth Kolarik has shown, the mosaic not only portrays the plant and animal life of land and water but also the seasons, for the trees, plants, and creatures of the central rectangle have been selected to illustrate the changing phases of the year. 35 It may even be conjectured that the remnants of thin, leafless branches, which survive beside the cypress on the right of the central composition, originally belonged to a tree depicted without its foliage in winter. Flying above its branches are ducks, which were associated with winter in the iconography of the seasons (fig. 49). 36 Thus, like the floors at Khalde and Nikopolis, the mosaic combines portrayals of animal and plant life, to which it adds the changes of the seasons featured at Tegea.
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37
There can be little doubt about the meaning of the mosaic in its literal sense as a depiction of the earth surrounded by the waters; 37 it is more difficult to determine to what extent this floor was intended to carry additional meanings. Certain interpretations, however, can be eliminated. The beasts, for example, cannot have referred to the Peaceable Kingdom, because at the right end of the floor a deer is being ferociously devoured by a leopard with blood dripping from its jaws (fig. 47). Nor can the trees and flying birds represent the Earthly Paradise, 38 because their imagery is seasonal; as we have seen in the last chapter, there were no seasons in the Early Christian view of Paradise. 39 There is little to indicate that the trees and their associated creatures were intended in any more than their literal sense; that is, they illustrated terrestrial nature red in tooth and claw and in all its changeability. But the central composition of the vine, with its heavy wreathlike frame in front of the main entrance, is clearly separated from the rest of the floor and thus asks to be interpreted in a different manner. It has been suggested that the vine and its associated creatures and plants represent the Earthly Paradise. 40 However, the central composition cannot be a literal portrayal of the Garden of Eden, for the motifs enclosed within the wreath fit neither the biblical nor the patristic descriptions of the Earthly Paradise. Both the Book of Genesis and Early Christian writers agreed that the Earthly Paradise was furnished with a variety of fruit trees and with the four rivers, which flowed from a single river, or from a fountain. Some commentators, such as Severian of Gab ala, kept to the letter of the text of Genesis 2:10 and described the source of the Rivers of Paradise as a river (potamos). 41 But other Early Christian writers described a splendid spring or fountain in Eden, from which the rivers flowed; they took their cue from an earlier verse of Genesis, 2:6, which speaks of a fount (pege) that "went up ... from the earth and watered the whole face of the ground." A vitus, for example, favors us with a poetic description of the rivers flowing from their source: Here a fountain rises resplendent with a transparent flood. Such grace does not shine in silver, nor do crystals of glistening frost shine with such a light. Emeralds glinted on the edges of its banks, and gems that are admiringly boasted of in [our] world, lie there as [ordinary] stones. The fields display varied colors, and paint the meadows with a natural diadem. A river, drawn out from the gentle vortex of the fountain, is immediately divided into four ample streams. 42 At a slightly later date, in the mid-sixth century, the geographer Cosmas Indicopleustes also spoke of the rivers coming from the fountain in Eden, and we have seen that the four rivers were shown flowing out of Paradise in copies of his map of the world (fig. 13). 43 Besides the four rivers and their source, fruit trees were an essential part of the Early Christian conception of the Earthly Paradise. The Book of Genesis (2:9) describes how in Paradise God made to grow "every tree that is pleasant to the sight and good for food." Epiphanius of Salamis said that the trees of Paradise are similar to our trees, just as the Rivers of Paradise are similar to our rivers, and he specifically mentioned the fig tree, which provided Adam and Eve with their aprons. 44 In the map preserved in the manuscripts of Cosmas Indicopleustes, the rectangle representing the Earthly Paradise is filled with a line of fruit trees (fig. 13). In the mosaic at Heraklea, however, the central composition does not enclose fruit trees, but only a vine and smaller plants. And although the vine grows from a vase (cantharos), there are no streams or rivers to be seen. It is therefore difficult to read these motifs as a portrayal of the Earthly Paradise in its literal sense. 45
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Another possibility is that the designer of the floor intended the vine and its associated motifs to be interpreted in the same manner as St. Basil interpreted the vine in his description of the world. In other words, the central motifs were intended to be read both as signs-that is, as parts of Creation-and as symbols of the faith. Viewed on one level, the visual structure of the central composition is parallel to that of the flanking trees with their associated plants and creatures. Like the trees, the vine fills the height of the frame; smaller plants grow beneath it, animals stand below, and birds appear in the branches above. At this level, we can follow St. Basil and read the vine in its literal sense as another earthly plant, while the deer and the peacocks represent terrestrial creatures that are companions to the other creatures in the mosaic. But the emphatic frame dividing this central composition from the rest of the floor indicates that these plants and animals probably have another level of meanings over and above the literal. The vine, then, would also be a symbol, whether of Christ, or of his Church, or of the Christian soul, or of the Eucharist. In this respect the floor at Heraklea resembles that of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa, which also gave special prominence to a vine that can be read both as a symbol and as a part of Creation (figs. 38 and 39). The artificial posing of the animals at the center of the mosaic also underlines their metaphorical character and helps to identify them as symbols. Unlike the animals under the fruit trees, such as the lion, the bull, and the leopard, which attack with naturalistic fury, the central deer stand frozen and timeless in symmetrical poses on either side of the cantharos. Likewise, the two peacocks face each other in mirror image across the upper branches of the vine, in contrast to the other birds in the treetops, which have been caught by the artist in realistic poses of flight. However, if it is clear from their presentation that the central deer and the peacocks are symbols, it is less clear what their precise interpretation should be, especially since there are no inscriptions to help us. In such a case, we can only try to circumscribe their potential range of meanings (that is, their semantic field) by referring to other Early Christian monuments in which these creatures appear as symbols. 46 There is, for example, a well-known floor mosaic in the antechamber to the baptistery at Salona that shows two stags drinking from a cantharos beneath an inscription. The Salona inscription does not identify the subject as the Earthly Paradise but instead connects the motifwith baptism by quoting the first verse of Psalm 41: "As the hart longs for the water fountains so longs my soul for thee, 0 God. " 47 According to St. Augustine, writing at the end of the fourth century in North Africa, this verse was chanted by catechumens as they went to the font. 48 In other contexts the motif of deer flanking a vase could refer not so much to baptism as to the Eucharist. For example, a pair of stags flanking a handleless vase appears in a sixth-century mosaic immediately behind the presumed location of an altar in a basilica at Skhira in Tunisia (fig. 50). 49 As at Heraklea, two rinceaux spring from the vase and spread their tendrils around the deer on either side. An apothegm of Abbot Poemon, a desert father who lived in the fourth or fifth century, illustrates how the water imagery of Psalm 41 could be related to the communion: It is written: "As the hart longs for the water fountains so longs my soul for thee, 0 God." In effect, the harts in the desert swallow many reptiles, and when the venom burns them, they long to come to waters, because by drinking they assuage the burning of the reptiles' venom. So also with the monks who stay in the desert; they are burned by the venom of bad demons and they long for Saturday and for Sunday, in order to come to the water fountains, that is to say, to the body and to the blood of the Lord, to be purified from the bitterness of Evil. 50
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The combined evidence of mosaics and texts, then, shows us that in Early Christian floor mosaics the image of the deer flanking a vase could be used in several contexts; its references may be eucharistic as well as baptismal. Early Christian writers indeed applied the metaphor of the deer at the fountains to many different aspects of the Christian's longing for God. For St. Augustine the image brought to mind the "fountain of truth"; 51 for the author of a commentary once attributed to St. Jerome it suggested the desire of the faithful for eternal life; 52 for St. Basil it represented the just who seek the fresh springs of theology. 53 It is therefore best not to interpret the deer at Heraklea too narrowly, but to read them in a general sense as open symbols of the faithful aspiring to Christ. Like the deer, the two peacocks in the upper tendrils of the vine can be read both literally and symbolically. At the literal level they represent especially beautiful ornaments of Creation, and they were described as such in texts on the Hexaemeron. In his poem on the created world, George of Pisidia devotes two separate passages to the splendors of the peacock's plumage. In the first passage, which comes in his description of birds and insects, he declares: "How could anyone who sees the peacock not be amazed at the gold interwoven with sapphire, at the purple and emerald green feathers, at the composition of the colors in many patterns, all mingled together but not confused with one another?" After this eulogy, George ofPisidia briefly turns his attention to humbler creatures. We should not only admire such marvels of nature as the peacock, he says, but we should also wonder at the intricate construction of such lowly species as the ant, the flea, and the locust. Then our author returns a second time to his original subject: "Once again, whence comes the beautiful peacock? The bird is refulgent and star-like in aspect, clad in purple plumage, because of which, boastful and arrogant in its appearance, it streams alone through all of the other birds. This purple has twined patterns on the bird without its toil, and has mixed a plentiful stream of many colors. " 54 Other Byzantine writers, such as Gregory of Nazianzus, also included the peacock in their accounts of the world created by God and described its beauties at length. 55 This admiration of the peacock for its own sake, as a supreme ornament of God's handiwork, should caution us against always reading symbolic meanings into this bird when it appears alongside other creatures in Christian art. For Byzantine ·writers at least, the principal significance of the peacock, when considered in the context of Creation, was not its symbolism but its outstanding beauty. However, at Heraklea there must be another level of meaning. Since the symmetrical posing of the peacocks distinguishes them from the other birds portrayed on the floor, and since they are part of the composition that is separated by the central frame, it is probable that the designer at Heraklea did intend them to be read in a symbolic sense in addition to their literal sense as creatures of spectacular appearance. As in the case of the deer, it is best not to give too restricted a meaning to the symbolism of the peacocks in the mosaic. In a general way the peacock had been linked since the Roman period with immortality and eternal life. There were several reasons for this association, which arose from the actual or supposed physical characteristics of the bird. First, the peacock annually shed its tail feathers in winter and renewed them in the spring. 56 Second, there was a tradition, verified by St. Augustine through an empirical experiment, that the peacock's flesh was incorruptible. 57 Finally, poets from Ovid to George of Pisidia compared the eyelike markings of its tail feathers to stars. 58 The bird was associated with Juno and became a symbol of apotheosis; it appeared, for example, on coins struck to commemorate the consecration of dead empresses. 59 The peacock frequently appeared in Christian funerary art, in tomb paintings, on carved sarcophagi, and in the mosaics that covered graves in North Africa. 60 In many cases, for
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instance in a fourth-century painted tomb at Nicaea (fig. 51), 61 and on several fifth- and sixth-century sarcophagi at Ravenna, 62 the birds flank a cantharos, as at Heraklea. The arrangement of the deer and the peacocks on the floor at Heraklea is reminiscent of the alterations made to the mosaics at Butrinto and Nea Anchialos, which were described in chapter I. 63 In the baptistery at Butrinto, a composition of medallions containing a variety of creatures of land and water was interrupted by two panels that were inserted on the axis of the main entrance. One of these panels showed a vine growing from a vase that was flanked by two peacocks (fig. r). The other panel displayed a small fountain flanked by two symmetrical deer. It seems that these two motifs were inserted separately into the existing design because they were considered more meaningful and more significant than the assorted creatures enclosed by the medallions. In Basilica "C" at Nea Anchialos, a design of two deer flanking a fountain was superimposed over a carpet ofbirds, sea life, and fruit. Here again, the symmetrically placed deer seem to have been invested with more significance than the underlying images of assorted creatures. The same kind of distinction was evidently made between the creatures portrayed on the floor at Heraklea; the varied animals under the trees were to be interpreted in their literal sense, as nature red in tooth and claw, but the symmetrically paired peacocks and deer within the central frame also were to be taken as symbols of the Christian's faith, which sets the believer entering the church apart from the violence and instability of the temporal world. Finally, we should consider the aquatic border that encircles the whole of the mosaic at Heraklea. Here again there are no inscriptions, and there is nothing in the composition of most of the motifs in the octagons to prompt the viewer to read them in any more than their literal sense-as signs representing the life of the waters. However, in one of the octagons we find two fish that are not set side by side, as they are in other frames of the border, but lie at right angles to each other so that they form a cross aligned with the main axis of the church (fig. 48). This motif is clearly more than a sign of the sea; it is also a symbol of salvation. Many of the commentaries on the created world referred to the saving power of the waters. Already in the second century Theophilus of Antioch said that the creatures made from the waters on the fifth day were blessed by God so that this might serve as a pattern for the regeneration of Christians through water. 64 St. Ambrose, in his discussion of the sea, also referred to baptism and used the sea as a metaphor for the Gospel. 65 We have seen that Severian of Gab ala, in his primarily literal account of Creation, associated the creatures from the waters with the saving power of baptism. 66 In the sixth century, Procopius of Gaza also spoke of those who saw in the spirit of God moving upon the waters "the grace of holy baptism right from the beginning of the world. " 67 In summary, it is possible to read all of the motifs on the floor, including those on the central axis, as signs representing the plants and creatures ofland and water, together with the seasons. However, the designer indicated by compositional means that he intended certain motifs to carry a second level of meaning; the symbolic elements of the floor are to be found in the framed central composition, which breaks the line of trees, and in one of the octagons of the border, in which the fish form a cross. The structure of the floor was akin to those literary descriptions of the world that presented its natural history literally for the most part but made symbols of selected motifs.
IV
The Gathering of the Waters
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
M
ANY of the Early Christian commentators on Genesis related the original Creation to its eventual renewal by Christ. For example, Theodore of Mopsuestia, the Cilician bishop who wrote in the late fourth or early fifth century, stated not only that God made the world and "adorned everything with great variety," but also that He had in mind from the beginning the renewal of the world, for "in Christ Creation is new, the old has passed away, and behold!, the whole is renewed." Moreover, Theodore, following St. Paul, adds that just as the creature is renewed in Christ, so we too as individuals have hope of salvation. 1 These ideas were expressed by other writers through detailed allegories that made specific aspects of Creation into types of the world's renewal by Christ, or of the salvation of individual Christians. The allegorizing writers whose work we shall consider in the following two chapters include Theophilus of Antioch, of the second century, Origen, of the third, and Didymus of Alexandria, a follower of Origen who lived in the fourth century. Among the Latin authors, the late fourth-century father St. Ambrose of Milan also falls into this category, as does the unknown writer of a sermon on the Hexameron that is included among the spurious works of St. Augustine. Some of the most intricate allegories are to be found in the twelve books of commentaries on the Hexaemeron by Anastasios, which are difficult to date. It can be said for certain that the commentaries are later than the works of Pseudo-Dionysios, since they quote this late fifth-century thinker. They were attributed to Anastasios Sinaites, a monk of Mount Sinai who lived in the second half of the seventh century, and although later dates have been proposed, there are aspects of the commentaries that support an attribution to his period. 2
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Whatever the date of the author of the commentaries, it is clear that he drew extensively on Early Christian exegesis. It is also possible that he had lived in or near Egypt, a country with which he showed some familiarity and concern. The general theme that we shall explore in this chapter is that the "waters under heaven," which God "congregated together" on the third day of Creation (Genesis 1:9), represented the congregations of the world, of varying beliefs, which are gathered together into one Christian faith. Theophilus of Antioch, whose second book to Autolycus contains a commentary on the Hexaemeron, already hints at this allegory when he writes that the well-watered islands in the sea represent churches, which are havens for faithful Christians, while the barren islands represent heresies. According to Theophilus, the sea itself represents the world, which is nourished by the rivers and springs of God's law that flow into it. 3 There is a long discussion of the gathering of the waters in the homilies on the six days of Creation by St. Ambrose of Milan. Although St. Ambrose's work owes much of its material to St. Basil's Hexaemeron, the Latin father includes much more allegory. According to Ambrose, the waters that were congregated together on the third day included the waters of the valleys, which signify the heresies of the Gentiles, and the waters from the marshes, which are the wallowing places for lusts and passions, where waterfowl are begrimed when they bathe and the sluggish turtle buries himself in murky waters. From the marshes and the valleys the waters are gathered together into one faith and into one Church, which, says St. Ambrose, "is founded upon the seas and is prepared upon the rivers. " 4 Finally, St. Ambrose concludes his discussion of the gathering of the waters with a reference to baptism through the river Jordan. 5 The allegory of the waters as the congregations of the world reappears in a short Latin sermon on the Hexameron that was wrongly attributed to St. Augustine. The author, taking his cue from Revelation I7:I5, identifies the waters of Creation as the peoples and the nations. In this homily the division of the waters described in the seventh verse of the first chapter of Genesis becomes the division of the Jews and the Christians. 6 Since the works of the latest of our writers, Anastasios, contain the richest and the most complex symbolism of all the surviving allegories, and since they are not well known, we shall look at them in more detail. In his commentaries Anastasios says that the "ancient creation of the world was a foreshadowing, for it contained the type of the Church, " 7 and, like Theodore of Mopsuestia, he maintains that "in the Creation of the universe in six days Christ earlier described and prefigured images and figures of the new creature in Christ. " 8 These concepts are elaborated throughout the commentaries in a series of complicated and overlapping allegories that are based on the text of Genesis. For example, in the sixth book we find that the sequence of Creation is compared to the stages of Christ's life. The author points out that God did not finish working on the earth, the waters, and the firmament at one time, but that he moved from one to the other and then back again, a program that foreshadowed the career of Christ. For our Lord was born in Bethlehem but left the imperfect and unfruitful earth of Israel; this part of the Lord's life corresponded to the first two verses of the first chapter of Genesis, which describe how God created the earth but left it "without form." Then Christ fled into Egypt, coming to the barbaric waters of the Nile, that is, to the Gentiles. When he had not yet congregated the waters into one congregation (Genesis 1:9), Christ returned to the earth of Israel, which produced a little grass and a few fruitful trees, that is, his disciples (the creation of plants, verse rr). Immediately, leaving the culture of the Jews, the Sun ofJustice came again to the streams of the Jordan, creating the light of baptism (the creation of the heavenly bodies, verses 14-17). Afterward, Christ blessed the waters (verse 22). Then he turned again to the
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earth, that is, to the Israelites, and took care of them and cured their ills (the creation of the beasts of the earth, verse 24). From the earth he went to the abyss, that is, from the cross to hell, so that he could proclaim remission to those incarcerated below. Then, when Christ had been resurrected, he returned from the earth to the firmament and to God. From there he again caused the waters of the nations to bring forth living creatures (verse 20), sending down on them from above the life-giving Holy Spirit at Pentecost. Anastasios now moves on to consider the birds that were created from the waters, and identifies them with the saints who baptized and were baptized, such as Paul, Philip, and the good thief, who flew to Paradise from the water that flowed from Christ's side. Here the commentary quotes the line of Matthew 24:28 and of Luke r7:37: "For wherever the corpse is, there will the eagles congregate." Anastasios gives two alternative interpretations of this passage. The first is that eagles will gather together where the corpse of the dead robber is, that is, in Paradise. The second explanation is that "where [Christ's] holy body died, there he has congregated us, so that we can participate in Him. For when he was raised up high on the cross he congregated the gentiles, and the birds of the gentiles born from the water, so that they could imitate his passion and his cross. " 9 In the third book of the commentaries we find a more extended allegory of the ninth verse of the first chapter of Genesis, which reads: "And God said, let the waters under the heaven be congregated together." First Anastasios lists the various divisions of the water, the lakes, the streams, the rivers, and the seas. He names the four Rivers of Paradise, refers to the fountain in Paradise, and claims that the Dead Sea is a symbol of the Jewish congregation, which he says is infertile and lifeless. On the other hand, the waters that were formerly infertile and now are fertile symbolize the Christians, who live productively in the Spirit and in the water of baptism. The river Nile is an example of water that brings fertility. Anastasios mentions the waters that are divided among islands, just as congregations are divided. He lists the heretical waters and the pagan waters of astrology and divination, which are not only obscure and difficult to interpret but also are bitter, sterile, and poisonous; they represent the congregations of Diana, of Apollo, and of Pythia (the priestess of the Delphic oracle). The commentary also lists the Jewish synagogue and concludes the list by saying that God ordered all of these impious waters, or congregations, to be gathered together into one congregation of faith. From the northern, southern, western, and eastern limits of the earth the waters, or the barbaric races, were gathered together, as if by some divine Spirit, which is "carried over the waters," like the Spirit of God at the beginning of Creation. Now also we can see all peoples united together into one Church by the Holy Spirit, which is carried over the gentile faith, especially on the day of Pentecost. 10 Somewhat later in the same book our author, still elaborating on the gathering of the waters, returns to the theme of baptism: "The water came together, for those who baptize hasten. May the water be sanctified, for the Forerunner came before, to whom the waters of the people ran." Once more we find the image of Christ as the sun: "Those congregated waters showed the light of the earth: and in the coming together of the waters of the gentiles, the Sun ofJustice arose. " 11 Finally, Anastasios relates the gathering of the waters to the creation of plants and fruits, which he associates with the fruits of human nature and with the bread of heaven: "Before that congregation of water, the earth did not show forth fruit in any way; just as human nature also did not possess fruit, that is virtues, before the congregation of the Church of Christ. Through the congregation of the original water man ate bread, and in our congregation, that is of the nations, a heavenly food was manifested .... For God made man fruitful and fertile and not dry .... So history said that God called the dry land earth, inasmuch as man
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may be called in other respects from infertility to fertility through Christ and may be renewed. "' 2 A few lines further on the text launches into another long and complicated allegory, which involves the Creation, the infancy of Christ, and the river Nile. Anastasios says that when the Nile rises annually in Egypt there is darkness upon the waters, and the earth is unseen, just as is described in the second verse of Genesis. Moreover, the wind moves over the Nile like the spirit of God over the waters. At this time the Nile floods Egypt like a sea, and lands that were formerly arable are made navigable. However, when the flood recedes, the waters are gathered into ditches and rivers, the marshes become firm, the fields sprout, and the villages rise up again as if exposed from the depths of the waters. This is a figure of Christ, the light of the world, who fled from Bethlehem to Egypt; immediately after Christ arrived, the land of Egypt was uncovered and put off its dark and watery veil of error, putting on instead the light of the Sun of Justice. It fixed its eyes on Christ, and it knew Him and adored Him, having previously been blinded by the waters of ignorance. Our author concludes this allegory by pleading: "Let not the foolish listener laugh at what is said: but let him believe him who said 'God made everything in His wisdom.' For you will acknowledge completely with us that God established in Egypt this miracle of the rising of the waters and of their return to their former place in order to exhort our piety and to bring about our belief concerning the Creation of the world. "' 3 Just as Anastasios had been anticipated in his allegories of the gathering of the waters, so too he was not the first writer to make allegories out of the land of Egypt and its river Nile. For example, Origen had interpreted Egypt as this world, to which the Son of God descended. 14 The sixth-century Byzantine poet Romanos, in his hymn on the Holy Innocents, used Egypt in a figurative sense, if not as an allegory. Like the commentaries attributed to Anastasios, the poem of Romanos contrasted Egypt with the sterile land of the Jews and also related the fertility brought by the Nile to the arrival of Christ in that land: "Winter prevailed when Mary brought forth the uncultivated grape. . . . For the fruit of the only pure Virgin, with the vine, is destined to flee into Egypt, and be planted there and give fruit. It flees the land of the Jews, a waste land empty of all benefit, it arrived at the fruitful Nile . . . overthrowing there all their idols." 15 We shall now turn to a floor mosaic that links Creation to salvation through a network of overlapping symbols corresponding in some detail to the allegorizing commentaries on the Hexaemeron.
THE EAST CHURCH AT QASR-EL-LEBIA: THE ICONOGRAPHIC PROBLEM One of the most intriguing and the most puzzling of the works of art to have come down to us from the Justinianic period is the mosaic floor in the nave of the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia in eastern Libya. 16 The message of this mosaic is partly concerned with the refounding of the town in which it is situated. We do not know the original name of the site, but it may have been the ancient Olbia, the seat of a bishopric. The town was apparently refounded by Justinian during the Byzantine reorganization of Cyrenaica. We shall see that the mosaic itself provides evidence for this, as one of its inscriptions tells us that the restored town was renamed Theodorias, after Justinian's empress. The Byzantines evidently provided the new town with ecclesi-
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astical buildings and with a fort, which still partly survives. ' 7 It appears that here, as at the monastery Justinian built at Mount Sinai, the rebuilding of military and religious buildings went hand in hand. ' 8 The mosaic can be dated by its principal inscription, which gives an indiction number probably corresponding to the years 539-40, during the joint reign ofJustinian and Theodora. 19 The mosaic floor occupies only the half of the nave that is farthest from the altar-the eastern half in this case. The other half of the nave, toward the chancel, had a paving of plain marble. 20 The rectangular field of the mosaic is divided into fifty square panels, a little like a giant crossword puzzle (fig. 52). 21 The panels contain an extraordinary variety of subjects. The square in the center of the western row, nearest the chancel, frames a view of the town itself, identified by an inscription as the "New Town Theodorias" (fig. 53). The city is flanked by two female personifications in the adjoining squares, who also are labeled by inscriptions. On the right we find "Ktisis," which can either be translated as "Foundation" or as "Creation." This lady holds a wreath and a palm branch, which she proffers to the city (fig. 54). On the left is "Kosmesis," or "Adornment." She holds a censer in her right hand and swings it gently toward Theodorias (fig. 55). These figures are flanked, in the squares at either end of the western row, by a pair of antelope, or gazelles, with bells tied around their necks; one stands in front of a pomegranate tree, the other lies down before a pear tree. In the center of the next row to the east we find another female personification, "Ananeosis," or "Renewal," who also is identified by an inscription. She is framed by an aedicula and holds a basket that contains either fruit or bread (fig. 56). 22 This personification is flanked by two of the Rivers of Paradise, labeled "Goon" and "Phison" (fig. 57). The panels at either end of this row show typical flora and fauna of the river Nile: lotus plants, ducks, fish, and two flamingoes. One of the ducks sits in a lotus cup, a motif that also appeared in the water borders of the mosaics of Earth and Ocean at Nikopolis and Heraklea. In the following row we find an assortment of creatures. The central square contains an eagle rending a deer that is lying on its back; blood trickles from the gashes made by the eagle's claws (fig. 58). In the panels on either side of the eagle there are two lions, and in the end panels two stags: The stag on the left is killing and eating a serpent, which it bites behind the head (fig. 59). In the next row we have a surprise: Reclining voluptuously in the center, and identified by a legend, is "Castalia," the spring of a pagan oracle (fig. 6o). She could either be the fountain at Delphi or the one at Daphne, the suburb of Antioch. In late antique and Early Christian writers, the Castalian spring at Delphi came to represent the prophetic claims of the oracle there. 23 But there was also a prophetic spring named Castalia at Daphne, which was pictured as a fountain on a floor mosaic discovered at Antioch. 24 In the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia, the oracle is flanked by the two remaining Rivers of Paradise, "Tigris" and "Euphrates." At the two ends of the row come more animals: a leaping bear on the left, and a duck standing on the back of a fat crocodile on the right. This last motif was part of the Nilotic repertoire both in art and in literature; George of Pisidia, for example, in his poem on the created world, speaks of the birds that befriend crocodiles. 25 In the next row, approximately in the center of the mosaic, we find an inscription that informs us that the mosaic was made in the time of Bishop Makarios, and it gives the date, probably equivalent to 539-40. 26 This inscription is flanked by two sheep, which stand in front of trees, and by two bulls in the outer panels. Below the inscription, in the center of the following row, is a building with a pedimented facade carried on four columns, behind which can be seen three doorways (fig. 61). This
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structure has been variously identified as a pagan temple, as a synagogue, and as a church. 27 The square to its left contains a horseman, and the one to its right a riderless horse tethered to a tree. On the far right we find another Nilotic scene, with lotus plants and ducks, and on the far left two fish and a spiral shell. In the succeeding row a splendid peacock displays his tail feathers in the central panel. To the left of this bird there is a view of a walled town or a fortress; to the peacock's right there are two guinea fowl flanking a pomegranate tree that grows out of a chalice-shaped vase. The outer panels both contain ostriches. In the center of the next row we see a seated shepherd playing an instrument resembling a lute (fig. 62). With his music he has attracted a goat-footed Pan, who leaps toward him from the left, and perhaps he has also charmed the leopard on the right, which turns its head as if to listen to the sounds. Flanking these three panels, at the ends of the row, come more sea creatures: a lobster, several fish, and another half-human creature, a triton. In the next row we find more creatures, with the marine life once more at the ends. In the center stands a bull browsing off a plant; in the squares to either side of him are a ram and four birds gathered around a basket. The ocean dwellers in the outer panels are a crab, a squid, a dolphin, and a doglike sea monster. The squares of the last, or eastern, row are all connected with water. We see fish, more sea monsters, shells, and a squid. The central panel displays a building labeled with the inscription "The Lighthouse" (fig. 63). It is approached in the square to the right by a boat containing two sailors, both of whom look at the beacon. The lighthouse itself is crowned at its center by a nude statue of a man with a halo of rays around his head. Because of this figure, the lighthouse may resemble the famous one at Alexandria, which may have been crowned by a statue of Helios. 28 The lighthouse of Alexandria was part of the repertoire of Nilotic subjects. It was shown, for example, in a floor mosaic depicting the Nile in the Justinianic church of St. John the Baptist at Gerasa. 29 Few would deny that the nave floor of the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia presents a strangely miscellaneous collection of images, and one's first reaction might be to dismiss the whole floor as a random hodgepodge of motifs that the artists drew from some pattern book and therefore are unconnected by any intellectual logic. 30 However, the many inscriptions and the presence of personifications such as Ananeosis (Renewal) suggest that whoever designed this floor had some meanings in mind; the floor is not pure decoration. Also, the nave mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia is far richer in its imagery than mosaics on a comparable scale by the same school of craftsmen elsewhere. 31 In the approximately contemporary nave floor of the "Cathedral" at Cyrene, for example, the square panels contain only birds, animals, and some scenes of rural life, such as milking or harvesting; there are no inscriptions and no personifications, Although many of the original 126 panels of the Cyrene mosaic are lost, enough survive from all areas of the floor, including the important central axis, to show that its iconographic range was originally much more restricted than at Qasr-el-Lebia. 32 The mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia was unusual in Cyrenaica for the density and diversity of its subject matter. Clearly its designer, who may well have been the patron, intended it to carry a greater weight of meanings than such floors as the one in the nave of the "Cathedral" of Cyrene. Once we start trying to discover what were the intended meanings of the Qasr-el-Lebia mosaic, however, we run into all kinds of problems. Why, for example, do we find the pagan oracle Castalia, reclining at ease among the four Rivers of Paradise (fig. 6o)? Is the building below the central inscription supposed to be a church, a synagogue, or a temple (fig. 6r)? The creatures portrayed on the mosaic pose special difficulties of interpretation. Some of them occur
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elsewhere in early Byzantine art with definite symbolic connotations. The deer eating a serpent, for example, was, according to Early Christian writers, a symbol of the fight that Christ or the Christian has to make against the devil (fig. 59). 33 Swallowing the snake was said to give the deer a great thirst, which he cured by finding water. The story thus became an apt symbol for baptism, because catechumens cured themselves from the devil's venom by going to the font. 34 Sometimes the subject was portrayed in baptisteries, such as the Byzantine baptistery at Henchir Messaouda in Tunisia, where a floor mosaic showed two stags with serpents in their mouths. 35 But if the stag seizing the serpent was intended to represent the Christian, or Christ himself, overcoming the devil, what meaning can be attributed to the motif of the deer being seized by the eagle, which at Qasr-el-Lebia appears two squares to the right of the stag (fig. 58)? The eagle sometimes symbolizes Christ in Early Christian literature, and the motif at Qasr-el-Lebia has been interpreted in the sense of the victory of Christ over evil. 36 But if the eagle here is Christ, why does it bloodily rend a deer, the animal that in the panel just to the left could have represented the Christian or Christ himself? 37 Should this change be interpreted as an example of linear ambivalence of the type discussed in chapter I, in which the meaning of the deer changes from one panel to the next? And what are we to make of the other creatures on the floor, such as the Nilotic fauna? Were they also charged with symbolic meanings, or were they simply put in as decorative fillers? And how are we to interpret the lighthouse at the eastern end of the floor (fig. 63)? In certain Early Christian tomb sculptures from Italy, the lighthouse was used as a symbol of safety. 38 An especially interesting example is a schematic engraving on a broken tomb cover from the catacomb of St. Callixtus in Rome, which encloses the inscription "Aorata," or "invisible things," within the outline of a lighthouse; the letters that make up the word are arranged so as to form the pattern of the Christogram. 39 Parallels of this kind pose the problem of whether the lighthouse at Qasr-el-Lebia was intended to be read as a symbol, or whether it was simply to be interpreted as a sign signifying the Nile. These questions have provoked many scholars into attempting to decipher the mosaic. Several interesting interpretations have been put forward by Andre Grabar, who has proposed, for example, that the Castalian spring reclines among the Rivers of Paradise because she is asleep and silenced by the four Rivers; in other words, the pagan oracle is silenced by the four Gospels. 40 I believe that this interpretation comes near to the truth, but that it does not take into account the context given by the floor as a whole. If we consider the subject matter of the floor in its entirety, we can see the relationship of Castalia to the Rivers of Paradise in a somewhat different light. Another interpretation proposed by Grabar is that the complete floor represents the earth and the ocean. 4 ' A strong argument for this view is the extraordinary variety of natural history to be seen in this mosaic, which includes wild and domestic animals, fruits and plants, birds of all kinds, fish, molluscs and sea monsters, and the rivers and springs of the world. As Grabar has noted, the general layout of the motifs also corresponds to some extent to the diagram of the Earth surrounded by water that we have encountered in other mosaics. All of the aquatic creatures, including the water birds, are placed in the outside panels, just as water creatures occupy the edges of the mosaics of Earth and Ocean at Nikopolis, Tegea, Khalde, and Heraklea. At Qasr-el-Lebia, as at Nikopolis and Heraklea, river life, especially Nilotic flora and fauna, is mingled with marine life in the outside frames. In the Libyan church the boat and the lighthouse also are shown in panels at the edge of the floor. It is true that not all of the outer panels at Qasr-el-Lebia contain motifs associated with water, but the concentration of sea and river creatures into the perimeter of the mosaic is striking. It is hard to believe that the arrangement was totally accidental. The personifications of Castalia and of the Rivers of Para-
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dise do, of course, appear in the central area of the floor among the motifs signifying the "land," but we have already seen a parallel for this in the mosaic at Tegea, where the four rivers and the twelve months are enclosed by a border of water creatures (fig. I 5). The layout of the motifs at Qasr-el-Lebia and, even more, their variety make it reasonable to suppose that the mosaic was intended to portray the land and the waters.
THE MEANING OF KTISIS Another interesting hypothesis concerning the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia has been proposed by Sandro Stucchi, who suggested that the subject of the whole floor is God's CreationY The clues for this interpretation are given by the two personifications at the top, Ktisis and Kosmesis (figs. 54 and 55), whom Stucchi interpreted as the Creation of the world (Ktisis) and its ordering and Adornment (Kosmesis) by God. Practically every other scholar, apart from Stucchi, has taken the two personifications to refer to the creation and adornment of the new town, Theodorias, which appears between them. 43 The principal argument for the latter interpretation is the undoubted similarity between the actions of the two personifications and the actions of donors portrayed in mosaics that survive in Jordan. The pose of Kosmesis swinging her censer, for example, has been compared with the pose of Theodore on the floor of the Justinianic basilica of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa (figs. 38 and 55), while Ktisis holding her branch resembles Soreg in the sanctuary mosaic of the church of Elias, Mary, and Soreg in the same city. 44 In the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa the donors Theodore and Georgia occupy the same positions as Kosmesis and Ktisis at Qasr-el-Lebia; they stand at the end of the nave mosaic nearest the chancel, and they flank a central panel, which in the Gerasa mosaic contains a dedicatory inscription. Parallels in inscriptions from other sites also suggest that Ktisis should refer to the "New Town Theodorias." The use of this word to mean the refoundation of a city is attested by an earlier inscription of the late first century B. c. or the early first century A. D., which was found at Istros. 45 Somewhat nearer in date is the personification labeled "Ktisis," which adorns the "Long Mosaic Room" in the fifth-century baths of Eustolios at Curium, on the island of Cyprus (fig. 64). There can be little doubt that the Ktisis at Curium refers to the foundation and construction of the baths themselves, for the woman is shown holding up a metal rod with squared ends that is almost precisely a late Roman foot in length. She stares intently at this builder's measure. 46 In view of these parallels, it seems likely that the principal reference of Ktisis and Kosmesis in the floor at Qasr-el-Lebia is to Justinian's refoundation of the town Theodorias, and perhaps also to the building of the church itself and to its decoration. However, even if the primary reference of Ktisis and Kosmesis is to the foundation and adornment of the city, it is possible that they also imply another secondary meaning, which is that the founders' actions emulated those of God, who created the world and, in the words of the Cilician bishop Theodore of Mopsuestia, "adorned everything with great variety. "47 In other words, at Qasr-el-Lebia Ktisis and Kosmesis had a double sense, referring both to human and to divine actions. 48 The parallel between divine and human creation was often presented in Byzantine texts; God had made man in his own image, and the works of man also were considered to mirror those of God. This concept was expressed succinctly in a sermon by Basil of Seleucia, a fifth-century archbishop in Isauria, who wrote that men reproduce the likeness of the Creator not only when
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they make paintings of Him but also through their own actions: "[Man] ... as if sitting on a throne, shows the image of the Creator through the dignity of his works, imitating his Maker with his own actions as with colors. For man puts his own hand to creating, and desires to fabricate, and constructs houses, and fits together boats, and joins beds, and constructs tables, and thus playing at creation he imitates the hands of the Maker. " 49 About the same time, Theodoret of Cyrus, the bishop of a small town near Antioch, was saying in his commentary on Genesis that "man imitates the God who made him by building dwellings, walls, towns, harbors, boats, dockyards, chariots, and countless other things," just as man makes "images of the heavens, of the sun, the moon, and the stars, as well as likenesses of humans and images of animals. " 50 The comparison between human and divine creativity was even incorporated into medieval liturgies for the consecration of churches, in which God, who had created the world, was called upon to bless those who had constructed the house of God on earth. 5 ' The early Byzantine commentators frequently compared the Creator to a king who founds a city. The idea had already appeared in the commentary on the Creation by the Jewish author Philo, who compared God, the designer of the world, to an architect who plans a city in his mind for "some king or governor, who ... being magnificent in his ideas wishes to add a fresh lustre to his good fortune." 52 In the late fourth or the early fifth century, Theodore of Mopsuestia also compared the Creation to the building of a city: "Just as if some king, having constructed a very ample city, and having adorned it with many and varied works, would order his portrait-as large and as beautiful as possible-to be erected in the middle of the town ... so the Maker of Creation made the whole universe, and embellished it with diverse and varied works, but in the last place he produced man in the place of his portrait. " 53 The same simile was used by the sixth-century geographer Cosmas Indicopleustes in his discussion of the days of Creation. 54 Another literary source is especially relevant here, because it specifically concerns Justinian, who was ultimately responsible for the refoundation of Theodorias, and thus for the church and the mosaics that it contained. This text is a hymn of Romanos, bearing the title On Earthquakes and Fires, in which the poet celebrated Justinian's rebuilding of Constantinople, and especially of the Great Church of St. Sophia after the Nika riots of 532. 55 As Eva CatafygiotuTopping has shown, through the structure and language of his poem Romanos drew a series of parallels between Christ who created and renews the world and the Emperor who rebuilt Constantinople. 56 Early Byzantine art provides some apparent parallels to these texts that associate God and man as creators. Sometimes the idea was implicitly expressed through an inscription, as in the case of the early seventh-century mosaic that fills the nave of the Theotokos chapel attached to the south aisle of the basilica at Mount Nebo in Jordan. The inscription runs across the eastern end of the floor and occupies a prominent position in front of the sanctuary. It reads: "0 Creator and Maker of all things, Christ our God, the entire work of the Theotokos was finished with the vow of our holy father, Bishop Leontios, by the exertion and effort of Martyrius and Theodore, priests and abbots. " 57 Here, then, as in the sermons, the commentaries, and the liturgies of consecration, God the Creator was juxtaposed with the mortal builders responsible for the church. It is possible that the title "Creator and Maker of all things" referred to the very creatures and plants depicted on the floor to which the inscription was attached. The rectangular mosaic was divided into three panels, of which the eastern one displayed stylized flowers, the central one showed a bowman and a spearman hunting game in a landscape, and the western one presented an assortment of motifs, including birds and several varieties of fruit. Among the latter we can recognize pears, pomegranates, bunches of grapes,
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and a freshly cut melon with the knife still lying beside it (fig. 6 5). 58 Whoever composed the inscription could well have had these images of the earth's bounty and abundance in mind when he invoked the "Creator and Maker of all things." There are other Byzantine mosaics in which Creation may have been portrayed with a double sense, human and divine. For example, a large collection of plants and animals was associated with a personification of Ktisis in a sixth-century mosaic of a house at Antioch, the so-called House of Ktisis (fig. 66). Here there was a square pavement, which displayed a labeled bust of Ktisis enclosed in a medallion at its center. The rest of the mosaic, which when excavated had suffered extensive damage, was divided into four triangular panels by four pomegranate trees placed along the diagonals. Within the triangular panels the designer placed a considerable variety of animals and birds, such as a leaping tiger seizing the rump of a wild ass, two horses, a peacock, and a peahen. In the background he scattered flowers and shrubs. 59 Even though this mosaic is in a house and not in a church, the bust of Ktisis may have carried a double sense here, referring not only to the foundation of the villa but also to the surrounding beasts, birds, and plants in this mosaic, which represented the divine Creation and renewal that was imitated by builders on earth. The basilica of Ras el-Hilal in Cyrenaica provides another possible instance of ktisis bearing a double meaning. This church has mosaics by the same workshop that was responsible for the Qasr-el-Lebia floor. At Ras el-Hilal personifications of "Ktisis" and "Kosmesis" flank the approach to the chancel at the end of the nave mosaic; each is identified by an inscription and is shown as a woman standing between two columns and holding her hands up in an attitude of prayer. 60 Again, the pose can be compared to donors in other mosaics, such as Georgia in the nave of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa, who also stands in the orans position (fig. 38). In the first place, then, Ktisis and Kosmesis at Ras el-Hilal appear to refer to the actions of the donors. 6 ' But the rest of the nave mosaic, insofar as it survives, suggests that its designer also could have intended to evoke the idea of "Creation," for the subjects portrayed are all birds, animals, and plants. In the three best-preserved panels, which are at the west end of the floor adjoining the personifications, we find a gazelle with a pomegranate tree, three birds, and a tiger with two hares. 62 In view of the parallels provided by contemporary texts and mosaics, we should consider the possibility that personifications of Ktisis and Kosmesis may express two strands of meaning in the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia: first, the actions of the founders of the city, that is, ofJustinian and Theodora and of their local agents; and second, the Creation of the world, which their actions imitated.
THE ALLEGORICAL MEANING If we take the second meaning of ktisis, that of Creation, and consider the variety of motifs from natural history that fill the pavement at Qasr-el-Lebia, we can read these images literally as signs representing the earth and the ocean. But the personification of Ananeosis (fig. 56) should encourage us to go further and to explore the possibility that the motifs here may carry additional symbolic meanings. In particular, we will discover that the particular selection of subjects in this mosaic closely matches the allegories of the gathering of the waters in commentaries on the Creation. In this tradition of exegesis, the gathering of the waters symbolized the congregation of the peoples and faiths of the world into one church. According to St. Am-
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brose, the waters included the heresies of the Gentiles. In the text attributed to Anastasios, the waters included the four Rivers of Paradise and also pagan waters such as the spring of the Delphic oracle, that is, Castalia. 63 Such allegories may explain the puzzling juxtaposition of Castalia and the four Rivers of Paradise that we see in the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia (figs. 52 and 6o); the pagan spring is not so much silenced as converted. 64 According to the commentary of Anastasios, the gathering of the waters allowed the earth to produce fruit and bread, which represent the renewed fruits of our human nature and the bread of heaven, "inasmuch as man may be called ... from infertility to fertility through Christ and may be renewed. " 65 Several motifs of the Qasr-el-Lebia mosaic correspond to this passage. Three of the panels contain prominent fruit trees, one of which is a pomegranate growing out of a chalice-shaped cup. Then there is the prominent personification of Renewal herself (fig. 56), shown holding a basket that contains fruit or bread. Ananeosis, of course, did not necessarily refer only to Christian renewal; 66 she could also be related to the refoundation of the town Theodorias. 67 As we shall see, in this mosaic the personification may have been intended to carry multiple meanings. Another concept that we found in the allegorizing texts on Creation, particularly those of Ambrose and Anastasios, is that the congregated waters symbolize the Christians who live in the water of baptism. 68 The image of the stag and serpent at Qasr-elLebia may correspond to this idea, since, as we have seen, the motif could be associated with the rite of baptism (fig. 59). 69 In the writings of Origen, Romanos, and Anastasios, the land of Egypt and the river Nile became figures, either of this world to which Christ descended, or of the Gentiles, or of the fertility brought by His arrival. The commentary attributed to Anastasios described in detail how the river covers the lands of Egypt with floods, like a sea that is navigable, but then recedes to expose the fertile fields and the villages. 70 This passage has a parallel in the Nilotic scenes around the edge of the mosaic, including the boat navigating at the east end. In the text, the receding of the Nile flood is a figure of the arrival of Christ, the light of the world, in Egypt. When the Lord came the land of Egypt put off its flood of error, and put on instead the light of the Sun of Justice. It fixed its eyes on Christ's light and adored him, having previously been blinded by the waters of ignorance. 7 ' This allegory suggests a possible symbolic reading for the lighthouse prominently placed at the center of the eastern row of the mosaic (fig. 63); it could have been a symbol of the light provided by Christ, as well as a literal portrayal of the famous lighthouse of Alexandria with its identifying statue. 72 Both of the men in the boat fix their eyes on the light, the one in the stern turning his head toward the beacon. One more motif corresponding to an allegorizing viewpoint, and, moreover, unusual in Early Christian art, is the eagle rending the deer, which is prominently placed immediately beneath the personification of Ananeosis (fig. 58). In his consideration of the birds that were created from the waters, Anastasios quoted from the Gospel: "For wherever the corpse (ptoma) is, there will the eagles congregate," and he explained, "where [Christ's] holy body died, there he has congregated us, so that we can participate in Him. For when he was raised up high on the cross he congregated the gentiles, and the birds of the gentiles born from the water, so that they could imitate his passion and his cross. " 73 Thus the commentary makes the image of the eagle with a corpse into a symbol of the gathering of the gentiles at the body of Christ. Other writers related the verses in Matthew and Luke more specifically to the Communion, seeing the eagles as the faithful gathered to the flesh and blood of Christ. In St. Ambrose's commentary on Luke, for example, we read: "The corpse (corpus) is that about which it is said 'my flesh in truth is food and my blood in truth is drink.' " 74 In his De Sacramentis, Ambrose connected the eagle and the corpse both with the Mass and with the theme of renewal, saying to the baptized:
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"Hear again David saying 'Your youth will renew itself like that of the eagle' (Psalm 102, 5). You have begun to be a good eagle, which seeks the sky and scorns what is terrestrial. . . . For 'wherever the corpse is, there will the eagles be.' The corpse represents the altar and the corpse of Christ is on the altar. You are eagles, renewed by the washing away of the fault. " 75 Some writers identified the "corpse" of the Gospel texts with carrion. Thus St. Jerome in his commentary on Matthew wrote: We are instructed in the sacrament of Christ from a natural example that we see everyday. For eagles and vultures are said to sense carcasses even across seas and to congregate at food of this kind. If, therefore, irrational birds can sense where a small carcass lies by means of their natural senses when they are separated by such wide spaces of land and of sea, how much more should we and all the multitude of believers hurry to Him whose radiance goes forth from the east and reaches to the west. 76 Another passage that links the image of the eagle and its carcass with the light of Christ occurs in the commentary on the First Epistle to the Corinthians by St. John Chrysostom: That fearful and awful sacrifice demands that we approach with the greatest concord and warm love, and thence becoming eagles, should thus soar to heaven itself. For 'wherever the corpse is, there will the eagles congregate,' it says, naming the body the corpse because of its death. For unless He fell, we would not be resurrected. It names eagles, showing that he who approaches this body should be lofty, and have nothing in common with the ground, nor should he drag himself and creep below, but he should continuously fly above, and look to the Sun of Justice and make the eyes of his understanding quick-sighted. For this is the table of eagles, not of jackdaws. 77 Here John Chrysostom associates the image of the eagle and the carcass with the Communion, with resurrection, and also with the Sun of Justice. These passages suggest that the eagle with the bleeding deer at Qasr-el-Lebia may refer to the congregation of the gentiles at the body of Christ, and more specifically at the Communion. 78 If this interpretation is correct, the eagle with its corpse can be related to the personification of Ananeosis, who appears directly above, for we have seen that St. Ambrose speaks of renewal in connection with Matthew's image of the eagles at the corpse. In the Syrian rite "renewal" was prayed for during the liturgy of the Mass. 79 Thus Ananeosis can be seen to acquire several shades of meaning: the renewal of the town, the renewal ofhumanity through the congregation of the gentiles into one Church, and the renewal provided by the eucharistic sacrifice. To sum up, not only does the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia portray land and water, but also its idiosyncratic selection of motifs corresponds in some detail to allegories of the congregation of the gentiles in several commentaries on the creation. If we consider the text attributed to Anastasios, we find that the apparently disparate subjects of the four Rivers of Paradise, the pagan oracle Castalia, the fruits of Renewal, the river Nile, the light over Egypt, and even the eagle and the carcass were all fitted together into a complex but coherent pattern of allegories. It is reasonable to hypothesize that a similar pattern of meanings may have connected the same subjects on the floor at Qasr-el-Lebia. Although the commentaries attributed to Anastasios may be later than the mosaic, we have
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seen that the ideas they embodied were traditional and had been expressed in various ways by earlier writers. The rarity of such motifs as the Castalian spring and the eagle with its carcass within the mosaic tradition in Christian churches makes the connection between allegorical exegesis and the floor all the more plausible. It is not necessary to suppose that the mosaic was directly influenced by one or another text, or that it was intended to be a straight illustration of some particular literary work. But it is likely that the complex of ideas expressed by the mosaic was similar to that expressed by allegorizing writers; the sermons and the commentaries help us to understand the mentality that lay behind both the written documents and the work of art. It should also be borne in mind that the symbolism is fluid in the writings of the allegorists; these authors often assign more than one meaning to each individual part of Creation. In the case of the mosaic also, we should not be too rigid in our interpretations. The designer may well have had more than one symbolic meaning in mind for some of the motifs. Many of the motifs on the floor, then, can be read on two levels: as signs standing for the earth and the waters, and as symbols representing allegories on the Creation. Only if we accept the motifs in this double sense can we answer the puzzles posed by the apparently strange assortment of subjects presented by this mosaic. It is not necessary, of course, to read every motif on the floor as a symbol; some of the creatures portrayed may function simply as signs for the terrestrial world. However, two prominent motifs that have not yet been discussed carry a special potential for symbolism in the context of this floor. The first is the building under the inscription, in the approximate center of the mosaic (fig. 61). As we have seen, this building has been variously interpreted as a dosed pagan temple, as a synagogue, and as a church. 80 If our mosaic is an allegory of the gathering of the congregations, any one of these meanings would fit the context, as the commentaries attributed to St. Augustine and to Anastasios listed the pagan cults and the Jewish synagogues among the congregations that were collected into one Church. 81 So the building in the mosaic could represent either the pagan or the Jewish congregations, or the Christian Church into which they were gathered. The last subject in the Qasr-el-Lebia mosaic that calls for comment is the shepherd with a lutelike instrument, portrayed underneath the peacock on the central axis (fig. 62). At one level, this motif can be read simply as a sign representing the rural activities of the earth, like the horse and rider that appear two rows above. But at another level the musician could be a symbol, especially in the contexts of the Creation and of the gathering of the waters. Grabar has related this figure to portrayals of Orpheus, particularly the famous mosaic of Orpheus with his lyre that was found in Jerusalem. 82 In the Jerusalem mosaic, as at Qasr-el-Lebia, the musician has attracted a goat-footed Pan among the other beasts of the earth. Several other late antique depictions of Orpheus also show Pan among the creatures drawn by the lyre. 83 A well-known passage in the orations In Praise of Constantine by Eusebius compares Orpheus, who charmed the most savage beasts, to Christ, who by his Word soothed the most difficult and savage of men, "Greeks and barbarians. " 84 It was also a convention of Byzantine panegyric to compare the emperor to Orpheus, because he pacified his enemies as if they were wild beasts. 85 It has been objected that the musician depicted on the Qasr-el-Lebia floor does not entirely correspond with the traditional iconography of Orpheus; while his frontal pose is similar to the conventional portrayals of Orpheus, his instrument is not a lyre but a kind of lute. Moreover, the listening dog and the pot hanging from the tree behind the figure in the mosaic are not attributes of Orpheus, but are more appropriate for a bucolic scene. 86 However, it is not necessary to identify the musician as Orpheus in order to read the motif as a metaphor. Several other texts concerning music are relevant to the themes of our mosaic and do not mention
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Orpheus. In the Hexameron of St. Ambrose, for example, the music of God's word is specifically related to the gathering of the waters of Creation. St. Ambrose says that the varied peoples whom the waters symbolize "find their delight . . . in the earth given to them for their labor, in the ambient air, in the seas here enclosed in their bounds, in the people who are the musical instrument of the operations of God, in which the melodious sound of God's word may echo, and within which the spirit of God may work. " 87 This passage suggests that the musician on the floor at Qasr-el-Lebia could have been intended as a reference to the word of God, which charmed even the wildest of peoples, a concept that would fit the overall theme of the gathering of the gentiles into one Church. There is another meaning that can be attached to music in the context of the Creation. In his speeches In Praise of Constantine Eusebius described the universe, including the earth with its numberless plants and creatures, and the sea with its innumerable varieties of fish; he compared this whole Creation to an instrument in harmony that is played upon by the Logos. 88 We have seen that when Gregory of Nazianzus described the world in his Second Theological Oration, he borrowed from Plato the idea that the harmony of Creation indicates to us the nature of God, who made the instrument that could produce such music: "If one sees a cithara fashioned with the greatest beauty ... or again if one hears the sounds that it gives out, one will think of none other than the craftsman who made it and the cithara player who plays it, one will ascend in thought toward him, even if one does not happen to know him by sight; in the same way to us is manifested He who made things. " 89 Thus the music produced by the shepherd in the mosaic could have two strains of symbolism: the harmony of the congregations within the Church, and the harmony of the whole of Creation. It is now time to return to the personifications of Ktisis, Kosmesis, and Ananeosis with which we began our discussion, and to ask how the iconography of the whole mosaic fits into its political context. The refoundation of the town of Theodorias, the building of its fort, and the adornment of its churches was part of Justinian's campaign to pacify the lands to the west of Egypt. According to the historian Procopius, Justinian wished to bring new life to these formerly barren territories, to convert those inhabitants who were Jews and pagans, and to reunite them into an empire ruled by one faith. 90 The content of the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia fits admirably with this political program, for the message of the floor is not only the renewal of the town under the emperor's auspices but also the allegory of the gathering of the gentiles, their conversion, and their unification into one Church. The contemporary hymn by Romanos, On Earthquakes and Fires, which celebrates the rebuilding of Constantinople and of its principal church by Justinian, is also especially relevant for our understanding of the inscriptions at Qasr-el-Lebia. In the poem Christ's acts of Creation and renewal are presented as parallels to the emperor's "resurrection" of the city and of its Great Church; both are celebrated together. 91 In the same way, the mosaic and its inscriptions can celebrate at one and the same time the "Creation," "Adornment," and "Renewal" of the whole world by Christ, and of the city and church by Justinian, Theodora, and their local agents. In conclusion, a few words should be said about the structure of the imagery in the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia. The mosaic, like most other Cyrenaican mosaics of the Justinianic period, is laid out as a grid of squares. 92 The arrangement of the motifs within this grid appears at first sight incoherent and illogical. More than one modern scholar has succumbed to an urge to rearrange the subjects, arguing that the artists who set the floor made mistakes in the layout of the design. 93 For example, it might seem more logical if the personifications of Ktisis and Kosmesis were to crown and cense the human figure Ananeosis instead of the inanimate city of Theodorias (figs. 52-56). As Grabar pointed out: "On ne couronne pas une ville." 94 However, the
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55
apparent mismatching of the motifs may have been caused not by carelessness or ineptitude, but rather by the designer's desire to create ambiguous images. I have argued that Ananeosis is intended to relate not only to the political foundation of the city but also to the spiritual renewal in Christ of humanity, symbolized by the gathered waters, and to the Eucharist. If the designer had changed the positions of Ananeosis and of Theodorias so that Ananeosis was flanked by Ktisis and Kosmesis at the western edge of the mosaic, the spectator might well take the concept of "Renewal" to refer only to "Foundation" (or "Creation") and to "Adornment." The actual arrangement of the mosaic, however, encourages the viewer to read Ananeosis in more than one way. The personification of "Renewal" can be related to the town that appears immediately above it; but it can also be associated with the Rivers of Paradise, which appear beside it, and thus Renewal can refer to the concept of the gathered waters. Moreover, it is possible to read the personification of Ananeosis in conjunction with the eagle and the deer immediately below it, which, as we have seen, can symbolize the gentiles gathered at communion. Thus the actual arrangement of the floor enables Ananeosis to be read at least three ways. The structure of the imagery can be compared to a word play, such as the common formula that appears on a sixth- to seventh-century silver paten from the village of Phela in Syria, which is now in the Abegg-Stiftung in Bern (fig. 67). The paten is decorated with an incised cross containing the words "ZQH," or "Life," and "
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v The Creatures of the Fifth Day
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
T
HE following pages will consider a different type of allegory, which was applied by some writers to the animals created on the fifth day. This tradition of exegesis, which set the animals of Creation into a hierarchy, with birds at the top and beasts at the bottom, may also have been expressed in certain works of art, although, as we have seen, many early Byzantine portrayals of natural history certainly reflected other modes of thought. The commentators who spoke of the hierarchy of creatures took their cue from verse 22 of the first chapter of Genesis, which says that God blessed the creatures brought forth from the waters on the fifth day, that is to say, He blessed the marine animals and the fowl of the air. Since the Bible does not say specifically that the Creator blessed the land animals, some Early Christian writers associated the latter with terrestrial concerns and with vices, while they associated fish with baptism, and the birds with saints and martyrs since they take flight to heaven. Now we shall look at some of these allegories more closely and consider to what extent they may also be expressed in early Byzantine art. We find the outline of the animal hierarchy already present in the commentary of Theophilus of Antioch in the second century. Theophilus spoke of the connection between the animals created from the waters and baptism: They "were blessed by God, so that this might serve as a pattern of men's future reception of repentance and remission of sins through water and a 'bath of regeneration.' "' Theophilus also made the distinction between the land-bound animals and those that fly: "The quadrupeds and wild animals were a type of those men who are ignorant of God and sin against him and 'mind earthly things' and do not repent. For those who repent of their iniquities and live righteously take flight in soul like birds, 'minding things above' and
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taking pleasure in the will of God. " 2 A similar symbolism is found in the wntmg of the second-century Latin father Tertullian when he comments on I Corinthians r 5:39: " 'There is one flesh of man' (that is, of the servant of God, who in truth is man), 'another flesh of beasts' (that is, of the heathen, of whom the prophet says 'Man is like the senseless beasts'), 'another flesh of birds' (that is, of the martyrs which try to mount up to higher places), 'another of fish' (that is, those whom the water ofbaptism satisfies)." 3 In the extensive allegories of Origen's third-century commentary on Genesis, we find that the animals are associated not so much with different classes of humanity as with different elements of the human character; however, the hierarchic structure of the symbolism remains. Explaining that man is a microcosm of the created world, 4 Origen wrote: When our mind had been illuminated by Christ, our sun, it was then ordered to produce from the waters that were within it "creeping things and birds that fly," that is to say, to display the good or the bad thoughts, to bring about the discrimination of the good from the bad, since the ones and the others come from the heart. It is from our heart, in effect, that good and bad thoughts are brought forth, as from the waters. 5 Origen proceeded to give a series of examples: "If we may have looked at a woman with concupiscence," that is a poisonous reptile in us; if we resist carnal temptation, we become birds. If we are tempted to steal, there is a detestable reptile; if, though being poor ourselves, we give to charity, that is a bird which directs its flight to heaven. "If we let ourselves get the idea that we should not endure the tortures of martyrdom, that will be a venomous reptile; but if there rises in us the considered idea of having to fight to death for the truth, that will be a bird which, from the earth, aims for the heights. " 6 Like Theophilus of Antioch, Origen also associated land animals with vice: In the [scriptural] passages concerning flesh, birds are not mentioned, but only quadrupeds, and creeping things, and beasts of the earth. For according to the sayings of the Apostle that "Good does not reside in my flesh" and "the wisdom of the flesh is the enemy of God," there surely are the beings that the earth, that is to say our flesh, brings forth, about which the Apostle again gives this commandment: "Let your limbs that are on the earth die, that is, fornication, uncleanness, immodesty, avarice, and idolatry, etc. " 7 Origen saw a possible objection to his allegorical interpretations in that the text of Genesis says that after God had created the beasts of the earth and the creeping things on the sixth day He "saw that it was good." How could this be, if the beasts of the land symbolize vices? The answer, says Origen, is that even the creatures representing sins are good for the saints, because the saints have to win their crowns of victory by combatting evil. 8 The allegories of Origen were echoed in the second half of the fourth century by Didymus of Alexandria in his commentary on Genesis. According to Didymus, reptiles are those who "have reached the pits of vice," while birds are those who "have wandering thoughts," who are "engaged with the things of the air," and who eventually "regain a familiarity with divine flight. " 9 He adds that the Old and the New Testaments give wings to him who resides in them; these wings are thoughts of celestial loftiness. Didymus specifically identifies doves with the
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saints, quoting Isaiah 6o:8: "Who are these that fly as clouds and as the doves. with their little ones?" He explains: "The little ones of the doves designate the disciples of the perfect ones; for example, Paul is a dove, and he has Timothy for a little one, and Peter has the Evangelist Mark. '" 0 As for the beasts brought forth from the earth on the sixth day, for Didymus each of these represents a vice from which men can be released by Christ; horses symbolize those who go neighing after their neighbors' wives, donkeys symbolize those who carry the burden of vice, and camels are those debarred by their habits from entering the Kingdom of Heaven." However, those who are released from vice "from being set on earth, will become birds of the heaven. " 12 Elements of these allegorical interpretations of the animals of Creation can be found in later texts, even occasionally in works by authors who took a basically literal approach to the Bible. We have seen, for example, Severian of Gabala saying in his Hexaemeron that catechumens go to the waters of baptism as reptiles and snakes in sin, but they come forth from the waters as soaring birds. 13 Hesychius, a highly regarded preacher in Jerusalem in the first half of the fifth century, identified doves with those who live on high and devote their time to contemplation. 14 Finally, Anastasios incorporated the animal hierarchy into his lengthy allegories on the Creation, adapting and elaborating upon the ideas of earlier commentators. For this last writer the creatures of the land represented an earthbound and ignorant Israel, the creatures brought forth from the waters represented the gentiles, and the birds represented the saints of the gentiles in Paradise. 15 The land creatures were not blessed, says Anastasios, because they had not been generated from the waters and from the Spirit that moved upon the waters, that is, they had not been baptized. Furthermore, the serpent that tempted Eve was among the animals of the land. 16 On the other hand, the birds brought forth from the waters included St. Paul, who was baptized and was able to fly from the water to the third heaven and again from there to Paradise (cf. II Corinthians 12:2-3). Such a bird also was Philip, who flew through the air to the eunuch of the Ethiopian Queen Candace, baptized him in the water, and then made himself a bird through the dove, that is, "the Spirit of the Lord," which "caught him up" (cf. Acts 8:39). First among all the birds should also be numbered the Good Thief, who "flew out from the life-bringing water that flowed from Christ's side," and "flew through the air to Paradise with Christ the great eagle, the king of the birds. " 17 As an antidote to these imaginative interpretations of the animals of Creation, we should again remember those authors cited in the second and third chapters who steadfastly refused to allegorize the creatures. Epiphanius of Salamis and St. Basil the Great in the fourth century and Procopius of Gaza in the sixth century all saw no point in giving arbitrary meanings to the animal life of this world. 18 "When I hear grass spoken of," we remember Basil protesting, "I think of grass; and so also with plants, fish, wild animals, and domestic animals. I accept everything at face value." Even a writer such as St. Ambrose, usually somewhat partial to allegory, refuses to stigmatize the land animals by associating them with sin: "I am not unaware of the fact that certain men treat of the race of beasts and cattle and crawling creatures as symbolical of the heinousness of sin, the stupidity of sinners, and the wickedness of their designs. I adhere, however, to the belief that each and every species is uncompounded by nature. " 19 As I have argued in earlier chapters, such differences of opinion over the interpretation of animals among Early Christian commentators suggest that a similar variety of intentions may have existed among the designers of works of art: Not all of the creatures were intended as allegories, and those that were allegorized were not always allegorized in precisely the same way.
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THE BIRD RINCEAU In the course of this study we have encountered many floors that show varied creatures of air, land, and sea. There are, however, some surviving pavements that portray only different species of birds-both beasts and fish are excluded. Often these mosaics take the form of a vine rinceau, which becomes an aviary framing in its scrolling tendrils a wide assortment of bird life. Such floors raise a difficult problem of interpretation: Should we follow writers such as St. Basil and read the birds only in a literal sense, as examples of God's handiwork, or should we follow the allegorists and read the birds as symbols? A composition such as the bird rinceau could have been invested with symbolism by one designer, but not by another. Is it possible, then, to determine in specific cases whether a given mosaic of birds was intended to be literal or symbolic? There are two ways of approaching this question. The first is to ask whether any aspects of the symbolism of birds found in allegorical texts would be appropriate to the particular context of the floor and to the function of the space in which it was set. 20 If the symbolism were appropriate to the setting, this might at least provide circumstantial evidence that the designer intended the birds to be read in more than their literal sense. A second approach to the problem, which can yield more definite results, is to ask whether the designer incorporated any signals or cues into the mosaic to prompt the viewer to make an allegorical reading. I shall consider first the circumstantial evidence provided by the contexts of some floors that portray bird rinceaux. This design appeared in a wide variety of locations in early Byzantine churches. For example, in the fifth~century Lower Church at Khan Khalde, in the Lebanon, a panel containing a bird rinceau was found in the south aisle and two more were discovered between the choir and the north colonnade. 21 In another fifth-century church, the North Church at Huarte in Syria, a bird rinceau covers the floor of the apse (fig. 68). 22 In each of these examples the vine stems grew out more or less symmetrically from a central cantharos to frame different species of birds and bunches of grapes in their scrolling tendrils. In each case too, it is hard to determine to what, if any, extent the designers intended the birds themselves to be symbolic. It may be recalled that Choricius did not attribute any symbolic meanings to the bird rinceaux decorating the vaults of the lateral apses in the sixth-century church of St. Sergius at Gaza, though he did say that the artist "rightly rejected the birds of the [pagan] poets, the nightingale and the cicada, so that not even the memory of these fabled birds should intrude upon the sacred place. " 23 A somewhat stronger argument for symbolism can be made in the case of a well-known pavement with a bird rinceau at Jerusalem, for this mosaic's context was clearly commemorative, and an interpretation of its birds as the blessed who take flight to heaven or to Paradise would be appropriate to its setting (fig. 69). The floor mosaic, which was discovered near the Damascus Gate, covered a tomb cut in the rock and was adjoined by a mosaic inscription in Armenian reading: "To the memory and salvation of all Armenians whose names the Lord knows. " 24 On the basis of its style the floor has been dated to the sixth century. 25 The whole field of the pavement is filled by a great vine that grows from a large cantharos at the center. To either side of the cantharos, and above it, the tendrils of the plant scroll to form forty-three medallions, which are filled with birds of all kinds, as well as with a vase and with two baskets containing fruit or bread, which appear on the central axis. 26 At the base of the mosaic, flanking the cantharos, two large peacocks stand in profile view. The other birds portrayed in the medallions include a cock, a hen, a pheasant, a stork, ostriches, partridges, swallows, ibises,
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doves, and water birds such as geese and a flamingo. Among the motifs on the central axis we find the only bird of prey, an eagle with outspread wings, and in the medallion immediately above it a bird enclosed in a cage. 27 This mosaic has been discussed by several modern authors who have divided themselves, like the Early Christian commentators, into literalists and allegorists. One writer has termed the floor nothing more than a collection of ornithological specimens, partly inspired by the location of Palestine on the route of the bird migrations between Europe and Africa. 28 Others have seen the birds as symbols. 29 Most recently, Helen Evans has related the imagery of the mosaic to early Armenian sources that, like the Greek and Latin commentaries quoted earlier in this chapter, associated birds with the just who attain to heaven. Certainly such an interpretation of the mosaic would have been possible in the sixth century, especially given the funerary context provided by the inscription and by the tomb beneath the pavement. 30 Our last, and finest, example of the bird rinceau provides a firmer basis for symbolic interpretation, for here the designer incorporated into his composition definite clues to its meaning. This mosaic covers the nave of a basilica north of the forum in Sabratha, which is almost certainly the church built by Justinian (figs. 70 and 71) Y Procopius tells us that this emperor built a "church worthy of great renown" when he walled the city after the North African coast had been regained from the Vandals in 53 3Y Although the building itself has been described as a "ghastly mixture of spoils, " 33 the mosaic is truly superb. In spite of its evident artistic quality, however, it has been little studied. 34 While the basic fabric of the church was roughly built from spoils drawn from various local monuments, the building was provided with expensive imported fittings such as marble transenna slabs, columns for a ciborium, and an altar. The mosaic, also, was certainly by imported craftsmen, since there are no local precedents for a work of its technical sophistication. 35 As in the mosaic at Jerusalem, the principal feature of the floor is a great vine, which spreads upward and to the sides from a spray of acanthus located at the threshold of the nave. The two vine stems that cross over each other to form the medallions on the central axis of the mosaic are tied together where they overlap by five rings, which are displayed one above the other in the middle of the floor. Three of these rings take the form of jeweled crowns; the other two, at the top, are plain circles of dark-colored tesserae. The grape-bearing branches of the plant enclose an extraordinary variety of birds, among which it is possible to recognize water birds such as swans, ducks, geese, and flamingoes, and land birds such as storks, doves, pheasants, guinea fowl, cocks, and a hen with its chicks. The vine was originally flanked at its base by two large peacocks, seen in profile view. Another peacock appears in the topmost medallion created by the intersections of the stems on the central axis; it stands on a globe and fills the whole medallion with a magnificent spread of its tail. There is a line of dark tesserae curving in toward the center of the globe, which may be an attempt at shading. The next medallion below is filled with a variety of smaller birds, including an eagle with outspread wings standing immediately beneath one of the crowns that tie the stems together. The medallion below this also carries an assortment of birds, including two geese and a quail in a cage. Finally, the lowest medallion, at the base of the vine, frames a phoenix with a rayed halo around its head; this bird alsostands on a globe, which rises behind the topmost lobe of the plant at the base of the mosaic. It may be noted that among the creatures on the central axis the phoenix and the peacock receive special emphasis, because they alone stand on globes, are completely frontal, and are the sole occupants of their respective medallions. The other mosaic floors of this church, which are relatively well preserved, all display plant
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or animal life, but in a more stylized form (fig. 70). The western ends of the aisles that flank the nave were covered with a repeated design of schematic pine trees. 36 Stylized flowers and leaves were also incorporated into the geometrical patterns that decorated the eastern ends of the aisles and the two rectangular spaces flanking the altar. In the composition that filled the area behind the altar, to the east, we find aquatic creatures such as fish and ducks in medallions framed by a wave pattern (fig. 72). 37 As a whole, then, the floor mosaics of the Justinianic church at Sabratha showed birds, water creatures, and plants. These are the same elements that were selected to portray "Earth" and "Ocean" by the designer of the mosaic in the north transept of the basilica of Dumetios at Nikopolis (fig. ro). In the latter mosaic, as we know from its inscription, birds and plants alone were sufficient to signify the earth, while a band of water life signified the sea. In their literal sense, then, the floors of the Justinianic basilica at Sabratha can be taken to represent the life of the created world. 38 However, there are some features of the nave mosaic that encourage the viewer to go beyond the literal sense and to consider the birds as symbols. We have noted that there are three jeweled crowns that bind together the intersections of the vine stems on the central axis. Although other Byzantine vine rinceaux occasionally have slender rings tying together the scrolling stems of the plants, 39 the mosaic at Sabratha is unusual in that this function is performed by heavy crowns. These crowns. potentially could be interpreted in more than one sense; their ambiguity may have been intended by the designer. First, it may be noted that the decoration of the crowns makes it possible to read them as martyrs' crowns; for example, their adornment is very similar to that of the crown handed by Christ to his martyr in the apse of the Justinianic church of St. Vitalis in Ravenna (fig. 93). In both places the crowns are set with jewels that are alternately square and rounded and are separated from each other by two white pearls set between each gem. The crowns in the mosaic at Sabratha immediately bring to mind the numerous allegorical commentaries that associated the birds of Creation with the saints, and especially with martyrs. We have seen that Tertullian identified the birds with martyrs who try to. ascend to heaven, 40 while Origen associated birds with good thoughts, such as a commitment to martyrdom, and referred to the saints' crowns ofvictoryY Didymus of Alexandria and Anastasios said that the birds represented saints, such as the apostles, the Evangelists, and the Good Thief. 42 Of particular relevance to the images at Sabratha is a passage in the Eighth Homily on Creation by St. Ambrose, which describes the phoenix among the other birds created by God on the fifth day. The phoenix, says Ambrose, lives to a ripe old age of 500 years, then it enters a casket filled with aromatic spices and dies; from the casket the bird is born again. This demonstrates that the Creator does not allow his saints to perish. Paul, for example, entered his casket "like the good phoenix, filling it with the sweet aroma of martyrdom," for he said, "I have fought the good fight, I have finished the course, I have kept the faith. There is laid up for me a crown of]11stice (II Timothy 4:7-8). " 43 This passage in St. Ambrose, which links together the phoenix with the crown of martyrdom, is paralleled by the first medallion on the central axis of the floor at Sabratha, which presents a rayed phoenix standing immediately beneath a crown. The crowns, of course, can also be considered as a reward for all the just; they do not have to refer exclusively to martyrs. The Lives of the Fathers attributed to Gregory of Tours tells us that when the confessor St. Martin died at the age of 90 he "passed over to the crown of justice, " 44 and Romanos, in his hymn on The Ten Virgins, describes Christ "when he opens the heavens and apportions the incorruptible crown to all the just. " 45 In summary, then, the presence of the crowns on the floor at Sabratha could be a hint that in
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this case, at least, the birds were intended to be symbols, whether of martyrs or of all the just. A second potential meaning of the crowns arises from their number. Since the designer of the floor had to employ five rings to bind together the scrolls of his vine, but designated only three of them as crowns, the number was clearly intended to be significant. Here we are reminded of John of Gaza, who described three blue circles painted around a cross and saw them not only as portraying the heavenly sphere but also as symbolizing the Trinity. 46 In the same way, the crowns at Sabratha could have been intended to refer both to the triumphs of the saints and to the Trinity itselfY We can also compare the multiple use of imagery by the poet Romanos, who was capable of applying the same image successively in its literal sense, then as a metaphor for Mary in her sanctity, and finally as a metaphor for Christ in his Divinity: "She [Mary] opens the door [to welcome the three kings] ... she, the door from whom was born the door, the little Child, God before the Ages. " 48 Apart from the crowns, the designer of the floor provided other clues to its intended meaning in the form of the peacock and the phoenix, which appear at the top center and bottom center of the vine. As we have already noted, a special emphasis has been given to these two birds. Not only are they displayed on the central axis, but they alone are presented standing frontally on globes, and they alone are distinguished as the sole occupants of their respective medallions. The phoenix in particular is rarely found in Byzantine floor mosaics decorated with vine rinceaux. 49 As a symbol, the phoenix could carry meanings that were religious, or political, or both at the same time. For Christian writers the phoenix was a demonstration of the Resurrection. Sometimes, as in the Physiologus, it was a symbol for Christ himself, but more frequently it was seen to apply to the resurrection of the dead in general. 5° From the many citations of the phoenix in Early Christian texts, we may take two examples from the literature on the Hexaemeron. First, George of Pisidia describes the rebirth of the phoenix in his catalogue of the birds and says that this should persuade the heathen to abandon their pagan arguments and to revere the Resurrection instead. 5 ' Second, St. Ambrose, in the passage just quoted above, uses the bird as a symbol of the resurrection of saints and martyrs such as St. Paul. 52 In art, as in Early Christian literature, we find that the resurrection symbolism of the phoenix at times appears to be focused more on Christ, at other times more on his saints, and at other times on both simultaneously. 53 For example, on two fourth-century sarcophagi, at Rome and Poitiers, the phoenix was portrayed standing on a cross between saints who offered it crowns of victory. 54 In this case, since the phoenix appeared to be the object of the saints' veneration, it was presumably a symbol of Christ. On the other hand, in the seventh-century mosaic in the apse of the church of S. Agnese fuori le Mura at Rome, a phoenix is depicted in a medallion on the robe of St. Agnes, who stands in the midst of flames. In this case the phoenix apparently referred to the martyr herself, for, like the bird, St. Agnes was reborn from her pyre. Perhaps, also, the phoenix referred to the saint's virginity, for the self-regeneration of the phoenix was deemed to be pure. 55 In another Roman apse mosaic, the sixth-century composition in the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian, a phoenix appears standing in a palm tree on the left of a grouping that includes both Christ and his martyrs, who offer their crowns to their Lord (fig. 7). 56 Here the symbolism of the bird may well have had a general application, both to Christ and to his saints who imitated his sacrifice. 57 The symbolism of the phoenix in the political sphere was complex and often intertwined with its religious meanings. The bird made its appearance on imperial coinage at intervals between A.D. II8 and 388. 58 The first issue on which the bird is featured is an Aureus, which Hadrian issued to commemorate the consecration of his predecessor Trajan; the reverse of this coin shows a standing phoenix with a seven-rayed nimbus. 59 The latest coins to show the
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EARTH AND OCEAN
phoenix were bronzes of Valentinian II, Theodosius, and Arcadius, which portray on their reverses the emperor holding in his right hand a phoenix standing on a globe. 6° For both pagan and Christian emperors the bird was often a symbol of renewal. 6 ' For example, a coin of Hadrian issued in 121/2 shows Aion standing in the oval of the zodiac and accompanied by the legend Saeculum aureum, which identifies Hadrian as ruler of the new Golden Age; in his left hand Aion holds a phoenix on a globe. 62 On coins issued between A.D. 346 and 350 by the Christian emperors Constans I and Constantius II, the phoenix on a globe appears with the legend Felicium temporum reparatio (restoration of h~ppy times) (fig. 73). 63 It may be noted that on many of these imperial coins the phoenix stands on an orb, as it does at Sabratha; this is also the case in the portrait of Constantius II above the Natales Caesarum in the Calendar of 3 54, where the emperor is shown carrying a phoenix on a globe with his left hand (fig. 74). 64 The imperial significance of the orb was noted by the Greek text of the Physiologus, which stated that the phoenix "has a crown upon its head and a sphere at its feet, like an emperor. " 65 Although the phoenix no longer appeared on the coinage in the fifth and sixth centuries, it continued to be associated with imperial renewal. A passage in the poem In Praise ofjustin II by Corippus describes how the imperial dynasty is reborn in Justin: Like when the phoenix renews its burned limbs, aliv~ again from its own pyre, and the whole throng of birds together stands watching for the sun and the bird of the sun to appear, and greets the new king with a shout: so the glory of the empire, so the holy letter I rises up again from its own end, and Justinian, the great emperor, laying aside old age, lives again in Justin, an emperor with an upright name. 66 As Averil Cameron has noted, the· political and the religious symbolism of the phoenix come together in this passage. When Corippus speaks of the sun and says that the initial letter of Justin and of Justinian "rises up again from its own end," he hints at the Sun ofJustice and the rising of Christ. 67 This text raises the possibility that the Christian resurrection symbolized by the phoenix at Sabratha may also have had a political dimension. According to the historian Procopius, when Justinian had conquered North Africa from the Vandals, he not only erected walls for cities such as Sabratha and provided them with notable buildings, but he also converted the barbarians, "who up to that time were exceedingly addicted to what is called the pagan form of atheism," and he made them into zealous Christians. 68 Thus, at one and the same time Justinian brought about the rebirth of imperial fortunes through conquest, the rebirth of the city through construction, and the rebirth of its individual inhabitants through conversion. The multiple meanings implicit in the phoenix at Sabratha are similar to those implied by the personification of Ananeosis at Qasr-el-Lebia. The other creature that receives special emphasis in the mosaic at Sabratha is the magnificent peacock that fills the topmost medallion on the central axis of the vine. Unlike the two peacocks at the bottom of the mosaic, which are seen in profile, this third peacock stands on a globe facing the viewer, in the same way as the phoenix. As we saw in the third chapter, the peacock was often associated, both by pagans and Christians, with immortality and eternal life. Like the phoenix, however, it also played a part in imperial imagery. The peacock was associated with Juno and subsequently with empresses on coins and in sculpture from the first to the third centuries A.D. 69 In the sixth century the plumage of the peacock formed part of the regalia of emperors. On a lost gold medallion from Caesarea, Justinian was depicted wearing a helmet topped by a spread of eyed peacock feathers (fig. 75).?0 The statue ofJustinian that stood in front of St. Sophia may also have been crowned by such a plume. 7 ' It is possible, therefore,
THE CREATURES OF THE FIFTH DAY
65
that Christian and imperial symbolism may have combined in the peacock on the globe at Sabratha, just as in the phoenix. The same observation can be made about the three crowns on the central axis. On the one hand, these can be read as the Trinity, and as trophies of martyrs or of the just, but at another level they may be trophies of Justinian himself. In his second hymn on The Forty Martyrs of Sebaste, Romanos explicitly sets out the connection between the victories of the martyrs and imperial victory: "But just as then, Christ, Savior, my emperor, you granted victory to your saints [the Forty Martyrs] against demons and tyrants, so now be placable and present victories and trophies to the most faithful King Uustinian] against the barbarians. " 72 The victories of the emperor therefore could be said to be parallel to the victories of Christ's saints, especially when conversion followed military triumph. It may be noted parenthetically that one of the closest surviving parallels for the crowns at Sabratha occurs in the late seventh-century wall mosaics of the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem, where jeweled crowns are also shown encircling the stems of plants, some of which are vines. 73 At the Dome of the Rock the crowns assume a variety of types, both Byzantine and Persian, and have been interpreted as signs of the political and religious victory of Islam over its rivals. 74 Before we leave the mosaic at Sabratha, a few words should be said concerning the other motifs on the central axis of the floor. As has been shown in chapters III and IV, it was possible for the motifs in any given mosaic to differ among themselves with respect to the density of their meanings. Some motifs could be intended only in their literal sense, others could also carry a single level of allegorical meaning, while others could carry several levels of symbolism. In the case of the nave pavement at Sabratha, I have argued that all of the birds could have been intended to be read in at least two senses, as signs of the created world and as symbols of saints or of the just who ascend to their heavenly crowns. In addition, at least two of the birds, the phoenix and the peacock on the globes, may have carried a third level of meaning, because they could also have been associated with the rule of the emperor, Justinian, who built the church. The special significance of these two birds within the mosaic was indicated by their scale, by their isolation within their frames, and by the orbs on which they stand. But there are, in addition, two other birds on the central axis of the mosaic that had a wide potential for symbolic meanings: the quail imprisoned in the cage above the phoenix and the eagle spreading its wings underneath the peacock. The caged bird was for St. Augustine, and for the Greek Neoplatonists from whom he borrowed the image, a simile of the soul imprisoned in the body. On the other hand, John Climacus saw the bird cage in a protective sense, as a container safeguarding the spiritual gains that the Christian monk had made: "When you come out in public," he said, "be sure to protect what you have accumulated. When the cage door is opened, the birds fly out. " 75 The eagle also could carry a variety of meanings in Early Christian literature. It could symbolize Christ who cares for his Church as the eagle cares for its young in its nest, Christ who protects his children from the deviljust as the eagle shields its young from the serpent,76 and Christ who takes the Christian captive to the heavens, as the eagle carries off its prey. 77 The eagle could also be a reminder of the Resurrection and of immortality, because it gives itself a new lease on life by reshaping its beak against a stone, just as the Christian renews himself upon the rock of Christ. 78 As we saw in the previous chapter, the eagle could also represent the faithful at communion, who gather at the body of Christ, just as eagles come to a carcass. 79 Finally, a bird with its wings outspread, like the eagle in the mosaic, could be a symbol of the cross. 80 All of these meanings can be found in Early Christian texts. In addition, the eagle was a bird with strong imperial associations. This "king's bird," as Martial called it, 8 ' was associated with
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Jupiter the ruler of the gods, 82 with the apotheosis of emperors, 83 and with imperial victory. 84 But it must remain an open question how many, if any, of these multifarious meanings were in the designer's mind when he set the eagle and the caged bird on the central axis of the floor. Did he, for example, intend the cage to represent the earthbound body from which the Christian soul ascends, 85 or did he include the quail as simply another bird, a pet, or a hunter's decoy? 86 And did the designer intend the eagle to refer both to Christian resurrection and to imperial victory, in the same manner as the phoenix may have carried a double symbolism? The only definite observation that can be made is that the eagle and the quail received much less emphasis in the mosaic than the phoenix and the peacock; both the eagle and the quail were combined with several other birds, including geese and guinea fowl, in their respective medallions, instead of being presented in isolated splendor. It seems that in the mind of the designer at least, the eagle and the caged bird were less richly colored with significance than the phoenix and the peacock, and therefore we also should not scrutinize them as closely for meanings. 87
VI
Nature and Humanity
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
I
N this chapter we shall look at commentaries on Creation that set out to define mankind's relationship to the natural world, and especially to animals. This tradition of exegesis went back to Philo, who already in his first-century treatise On the Creation adumbrated two of the themes that were later to be expanded upon by Christian authors. First, Philo said that God bestowed abundant fresh water on the earth, to "enable it like a mother to provide, as for offspring, ... food and drink. " 1 Second, the Jewish writer emphasized the dominion that God gave to mankind over the animals: The clearest proof of man's rule is afforded by what goes on before our eyes. Sometimes vast numbers of cattle are led by one quite ordinary man neither wearing armor, nor carrying an iron weapon, nor anything with which to defend himself, with nothing but a sheepskin to cover him and a staff. ... See, there is a shepherd, a goatherd, a cowherd leading flocks of sheep and goats, and herds of kine. They are men not even strong and lusty in body .... And all the prowess and strength of those well-armed animals, who possess the equipment which nature provides and use it in self-defence, cower before him like slaves before a master, and do his bidding. Bulls are harnessed to plough the land, and cutting deep furrows all day long, sometimes all night as well, accomplish a long bout with some farm-hand to direct them: rams laden with thick fleeces of wool, when spring-time comes, stand peacefully or even lie down quietly at the shepherd's bidding, and offer their wool to the
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shears . . . . Even the horse, most spirited of all animals, is easily controlled by the bit to prevent his growing restive and running away. 2 These ideas, of Mother Earth providing for humanity at God's bidding, and of the subservience of domestic animals to their keepers, reappeared in the commentaries on Creation attributed to the great fourth-century church fathers, St. Basil, St. Gregory of Nyssa, and St. John Chrysostom. In the writings of the Christian authors, however, the themes of the earth's God-given bounty and of man's mastery over the animals were given more of a moral dimension. For example, a homily entitled On the Origin of Man} which may have been composed by Basil the Great as a sequel to his nine sermons on the Hexaemeron, 3 draws a lesson from the even-handedness of God's gifts to humanity. The author says that the story of Creation provides Christians with an education for human life, because just as God "makes his sun rise on the wicked and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust" (Matthew 5:45), so also should Christians be compassionate toward their enemies. 4 In another passage, commenting on verse 28 of the first chapter of Genesis, the sermon speaks of mankind's mastery over nature. The biblical verse reads: "And God blessed man and said: 'Be fruitful, and multiply, and replenish the earth, and subdue it: and have dominion over the fish of the sea and over the fowl of the air and over every living thing that moveth upon the earth.' " Here the homilist explains that the phrase "replenish the earth" means that we should master it through the exercise of our reason; we should "replenish it by the power that He gave us to dominate the earth . . . . He made us masters to replenish this earth and we replenish it through reason. " 5 Humanity's mastery over the animals is discussed at length in Gregory of Nyssa's On the Creation of Man. Gregory says that each animal is provided by nature with its own defenses: bulls have horns, hares have swiftness, deer have superior eyesight and the ability to leap, other beasts are protected by their size, birds have their wings, and bees their stings. Only man is deprived of the advantages of swiftness, bulk, and natural armaments. But, by exercising his God-given dominion, man adopts the natural defenses of animals for his own use. Slow by nature, we avail ourselves of the swiftness of horses; to clothe our nakedness, we use the wool of sheep; to transport what we need for life, we put animals under the yoke; we cannot eat grass, but we make use of oxen, which by their toil make our life easy; we lack sharp teeth with which to fend off attacks from wild beasts, but we can defend ourselves by using the speed and bite of the dog, an animal whose jaws could be called the "living sword" of man. Furthermore, says Gregory, man has improved upon the natural defenses of some animals; he has discovered iron, which is stronger than jutting horns and sharper than pointed claws. Iron, moreover, does not form an integral growing part of our bodies, like the defenses of beasts, but it can be taken up and used by humans just when the need arises. Finally, even the wings of birds can be put to our own use, when we borrow their feathers to give swiftness to the flight of our arrows. 6 The most extensive discussion of man's relationship to the earth and to its creatures can be found in the ninth homily on Genesis by St. John Chrysostom. After the opening of the sermon the preacher calls upon his congregation to receive the gifts of the Holy Spirit, "in order that, like a rich and fruitful earth, you may multiply the sown seed, and one of you may produce a hundred-fold, another sixty-fold, and another thirty-fold. " 7 In a remarkable passage describing the earth's bounty, John Chrysostom says that the earth has been made our nurse and our mother. We feed from it, in every other way we have the benefit of it, and we return to it. It is our fatherland and our tomb. However, lest we should regard the earth with too much reverence on account of its necessity and utility to us, it is shown to us without form at
NATURE AND HUMANITY
69
the beginning of Creation (Genesis r:2), so that we should not ascribe all of these benefits to the nature of the earth itself, but rather to the power of the Creator who made it. 8 The sermon moves on to consider Genesis r:28, in which God gives mankind dominion over the animals. John Chrysostom first deals with the objections of pagan critics who point out that some fierce beasts in fact appear to be stronger than we; this is not a contravention of God's promise, says our preacher, because if wild animals hurt us, it is only through some fault of our own. It is the same as when robbers attack us; if we are not negligent, but take up arms against them, they will not prevail over us, and we will ensure our safety. John Chrysostom further explains, like many another Early Christian commentator, that all of the wild beasts were tame and peaceable before the Fall and completely subject to Adam's command: ''When [Adam] saw the beasts next to him, he did not jump away, but he gave the names to all of them, like some master naming the servants set under him. " 9 However, after Adam's sin and disobedience, man lost part of his control over the animals, so that now he is fearful of some of his fellow creatures. Yet God, in his mercy, left us with a portion of our former power over the beasts and allowed us a continuing authority over those animals that might be useful to us. So God left us herds of oxen to haul our plows, as well as other beasts of burden to aid us. He also left us flocks of sheep so that we would have clothes. God therefore punished us for our disobedience by forcing us to eat our bread by the sweat of our brows (cf. Genesis 3:19), but, at the same time, he alleviated our toils by providing us with draft animals. In this respect God behaved like a benign and prudent master of a household who whips a servant and then applies some appropriate remedy to the wounds from the lash. In sum, says the preacher, "if anyone examines the matter thoughtfully and precisely [he will find] everything full of much wisdom, solicitude, and benevolence. "ro I shall now turn to two mosaics in Jordan that can be considered as visual counterparts to the commentaries reviewed in the preceding pages. Each pavement brings together into one composition portrayals of Earth, of the food she provides, of man's mastery over domestic animals, and of his defenses against wild beasts. The correspondence of the motifs on the floors, together with the content of their inscriptions, suggests that there may have been a common pattern of ideas underlying these images and the textual tradition examined above.
THE CHURCHES OF _THE PRIEST JOHN AND OF ST. GEORGE AT KHIRBAT AL-MAKHAYYAT The church of the Priest John at Khirbat al-Makhayyat is a small, single-aisled building attached to the north side of a larger basilica with three aisles. II It was decorated with an exceptionally rich floor mosaic, which can be dated to the sixth century (figs. 76 and 77). I 2 The pavement has an inscription running across the east end of its rectangular central field, which states that "the holy place was renewed and finished" in the time of the Bishop John and "by the zeal of the Priest John ... for the salvation of and an offering (prosphoras) of those who have made offerings and who intend to make offerings. "' 3 To the west of this inscription there is another, framed by a pedimented facade and beginning: "For the salvation of and an offering (prosphoras) of Your servants .... "' 4 The second inscription, together with its architectural frame, is flanked on either side by trees and peacocks. The remainder of the central field of the mosaic, to the west, is divided from the inscriptions, the facade, and their associated motifs by a horizontal line. Insofar as it survives, this portion of
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the floor is given over to portrayals of Earth, of her gifts, and of man's mastery over the animals. The motifs are all framed by scrolling acanthus plants, which divide the field into rows of medallions, arranged three to each row. There can be no doubt about the overall subject of the floor, for in the center of the second row from the east we find Earth herself, personified as a woman holding a crescent-shaped fold of cloth brimming with fruits and originally labeled "Ge" (fig. 78). She is approached by two young men in the adjoining medallions, each of whom raises up a basket full of fruits. In the medallion on the right of the eastern row a bearlike creature bounds toward a man who stands in the center and defends himself from the wild beast with a shield held out in his left hand and with a sword raised in his right hand (fig. 79). In the medallion on the left lies another wild animal-a member of the lion family, which the artist, whose depictions of natural history were somewhat vague, has given both dugs and mane. In the center of the third row from the east stands a man with a sling; in the medallion to his right a wild boar runs away. On the man's left we find a domestic animal, a recumbent sheep. In the last preserved row of circles there is in the center a woman carrying a basket of fruit on her shoulder, and on the right a dog sitting on its haunches (fig. So). The left-hand medallion of this row is now lost. In addition, the spaces between the scrolls of acanthus are filled by motifs representing the earth's produce. Reading from east to west, we discover two baskets containing bread, followed by two fruits and two fish. The nave pavement in the church of St. George at Khirbat al-Makhayyat exhibits subjects very similar in character to those found in the church of the Priest John (fig. 81). ' 5 This floor should also be dated to the sixth century. ' 6 There is a long mosaic inscription placed at the east end of the nave, in front of the sanctuary, which begins with an interesting reference to the labor of the local inhabitants: "0 St. George, accept the offering (prosphoran) and work of the people of this village .... "' 7 In spite of a few losses, the mosaic in St. George's church was generally well preserved at the time of discovery. As in the case of the floor in the church of the Priest John, the central field is divided up into medallions by scrolls of acanthus, which form three circles in each of four rows. In the central medallion of the eastern row we again find the bust of a woman holding between her hands a crescent-shaped cloth filled with fruits; although there is no inscription here to tell us specifically that this lady is Earth (Ge), she is sufficiently close to the personification in the church of the Priest John to merit this identification. Here, also, Earth was approached by men holding up offerings, of which only the basket of produce proffered by the left-hand figure is preserved. In the center of the next row we see two vintagers treading grapes in a winepress, perhaps in time to the flutist, who is seated in the medallion on the left. On the right another farm worker leads toward the press a horse or a donkey, whose panniers are presumably laden with grapes from the harvest. In the circle immediately beneath, to the right of the third row, we see another harvest activity-a reaper cutting grain (fig. 83). The other two medallions of this row depict an encounter between man and beast. On the left a mounted horseman appears to be preparing to take aim with his bow and arrow at a lioness and her cub, which are shown in the central medallion. The mother animal apparently already has been pierced in the mouth by an arrow. In contrast to this scene of the wounding of a wild beast, the last row of medallions shows us the capture and subduing of a domestic animal (fig. 83). The central circle frames a bull that has been lassoed and is held fast between two men standing in the outer medallions, each of whom holds onto the opposite end of a rope. The border of the mosaic encloses a series of square panels, each containing a different motif. Most of the panels along the north and south sides of the nave frame beasts and birds: An eagle and a running dog are preserved on the north side, and a lion, a goat, and a bustard on the
NATURE AND HUMANITY
71
south. The squares on the east and west sides contain four busts, whose attributes of plants and fruits appear to identify them as the seasons. ' 8 Unlike most of the mosaics we have studied in previous chapters, the two floors at Khirbat al-Makhayyat do not depict the earth primarily by cataloguing various flora and fauna, but instead they illustrate different human activities: People are shown harvesting food, offering up their produce, defending themselves from wild beasts, and taming or using domestic animals. ' 9 Many of the scenes of agricultural labor must have illustrated the actual life of the countryside surrounding the village at Khirbat al-Makhayyat. 20 An interpretation of the imagery on these floors has been provided by Andre Grabar, who has seen in them portrayals of the Lord's estate, parallel to the hunting, agricultural, and pastoral scenes that had appeared in late Roman villas of the landed aristocracy. 21 Viewed from this perspective, the mosaics at Khirbat al-Makhayyat appear to present the whole earth as God's domain. In a general sense, the same interpretation could be applied to many of the portrayals of the terrestrial world that I have already discussed, for the subjects illustratedaquatic creatures, birds, wild and domestic beasts, plants, and seasons-had also been part of the repertoire of images that decorated the villas of landed proprietors. But we have seen that in addition to this general statement of the Lord's power and dominion over the earth there often could be further levels of Christian meaning. This was certainly the case with the floors at Khirbat al-Makhayyat. I shall examine two other important themes that are expressed by the mosaics in the churches of the Priest John and of St. George: the first, and more obvious, theme is the offering of the earth's fruits to God; the second, which corresponds to the texts reviewed in the first part of this chapter, is the dominion of mankind over the animals. I will discuss the first of these themes briefly, since it has already been commented upon by several other writers. Offerings are referred to in several of the inscriptions associated with the mosaics. It should be noted that in these inscriptions the word used for "offering" (prosphora) had several possible shades of meaning, which may also be reflected in the images. As well as referring to offerings in general, the word could mean an offering of Communion bread, 22 and also the action of the Communion itself. 23 Prosphora, therefore, was a term that could carry eucharistic connotations, as could the reaping and vintage scenes in the nave pavement of the church of St. George, especially the cross-shaped winepress in the center of the floor. 24 A eucharistic meaning is, moreover, suggested by the floor mosaic in the apse of this church, which shows a long-horned sheep standing against a tree (fig. 8r). The location of these motifs immediately behind the altar is a strong argument for reading them as a reference to the sacrifice of Isaac as a prefiguration of the divine sacrifice, even though the animal is not actually entangled in the branches of the tree according to the letter of the biblical text. 25 In connection with the theme of offerings it is also worth noting the existence of early Byzantine bronze stamps inscribed with the words "Fruits of the Lord" (Karpoi Kyriou), "Fruits of God" (Karpoi Theou), or "Produce of God" (Phora Theou). 26 One type of stamp that makes an especially interesting parallel to our mosaics contains the word Karpoi ("Fruits") within the outline of a crescent (fig. 82). 27 This design is a visual equivalent of the crescent-shaped scarf full of fruits held by the two personifications of Earth on the floors at Khirbat al-Makhayyat (figs. 77, 78, and 8r). It has been proposed that such stamps were used to impress loaves that were presented to the church as oblations. 28 However, it is also possible that the stamps were used as seals by producers and traders in the marketplace. 29 Finally, it should be added in parenthesis that the word prosphora could also have referred to the donation of the building itself, or to a part of it, as may be implied by the opening lines of the inscription in St. George's church: "0 St. George, accept the offering (prosphoran) and work
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of the people of this village .... " This sentence could have alluded either to donations of produce, 30 or of labor, or of money that had been made for the building of the church, or it could also have referred to the finished structure itself. 3 ' The second theme embodied in the mosaics at Khirbat al-Mak.hayyat relates to the toil of the villagers that is recorded by the inscription in the church of St. George. In the sermons by Gregory of Nyssa and John Chrysostom we read that God, in his providence, made savage beasts fearful to us after the Fall, yet, by the exercise of our reason, we can arm ourselves against them and defend ourselves. On the other hand, God gave domestic beasts into our power, to help us with the labor to which we were condemned after Adam's sin. This kind of distinction between wild and domestic animals can be seen in different ways in the pavements of both churches. In the church of the Priest John, a man defends himself from the outstretched claws of a bear by using a sword and a shield (fig. 79). Unlike the generality of hunting scenes in late antique mosaics, in this floor the man is not spearing or attacking the animal; neither has he been overpowered by it, but he merely stands and wards the beast off with his shield outstretched and with his sword resting on his shoulder. The man's defensive pose, however, accords well with one theme of the commentaries quoted above, which asserted that humans, in spite of their natural weakness, can protect themselves against the attacks of wild beasts and of robbers by taking up artificial armaments of iron. In the western part of the mosaic, by contrast, we find the domestic animals whose natural defenses mankind uses for his own purposes: the reclining sheep which, according to Gregory of Nyssa and John Chrysostom, provides man with his clothing, and the sitting dog whose jaws are man's "living sword" (fig. So). The mosaic in the church of St. George juxtaposes scenes of human mastery over wild and domestic animals in another manner. On the central axis we see a lioness kept at bay by a horseman's feathered arrow, and immediately below it we see a great bull being dominated by the herdsman's lasso (figs. 81 and 83). Beside the winepress we find a worker using a beast of burden to transport his grapes. 32 The association of these scenes with each other fits with the idea that God gave us farm animals to lighten our labor, and also the intelligence to arm ourselves against fierce beasts. The ninth sermon on Genesis by St. John Chrysostom provides a particularly close parallel to the complex of images displayed in the churches of St. George and of the Priest John, for this author preceded his discussion of the animals with a description of the earth as "a mother and a nurse to us," words that find their counterparts in the personifications of Ge, which preside over both the floors at Khirbat al-Mak.hayyat (figs. 77 and 81). We need not suppose, however, that the designers of the floors necessarily had this very sermon in mind when they laid out the images, for St. John Chrysostom, as we have seen, was following a tradition of exegesis that extended back to Philo. Like the Christian commentators, the makers of the mosaics were defining humanity's place in the natural world created by God.
VII
King and Creator
THE TEXTUAL TRADITION
F
ROM the beginning of the Roman Empire it became a commonplace of imperial praise to claim that the emperor's rule was as extensive as the world itself-the whole of earth and sea was subject to his command. Already in A.D. 39 Queen Kypros, the wife of Herodes Agrippa, the King of Judaea, had sent a textile depicting Earth and Ocean to the Emperor Gaius, together with these flattering lines by the poet Philip: "Kypros made me [the textile], a perfect copy of the harvest-bearing earth, and all that the land encircling ocean girdles, obedient to great Caesar, and the grey sea too."' When Constantine the Great came to power, his Christian panegyrist Eusebius translated this idea into terms appropriate for the new religion: God had created the whole world, and this world was now ruled by the emperor in imitation of the Ruler of the cosmos. In the first of his orations In Praise of Constantine, Eusebius described at length the world created by God, the earth encircled by the dark-blue ocean, the streams and rivers, the winds, clouds, and storms, the sun, moon, and stars, the four seasons, the plants, flowers, and fruits, and the creatures of land, sea, and air. 2 All this is governed by "the One who is over all, through all, and in all, visible and invisible, the all-pervasive Logos of God, from whom and through whom bearing the image of the Higher Kingdom, the sovereign dear to God, in imitation of the Higher Power, directs the helm and sets straight all things on earth. " 3 The association of God's earthly creation with the emperor's universal rule can also be found in later Byzantine texts. An important example is the long poem entitled the Hexaemeron or Creation of the World by the seventh-century author George of Pisidia, which has already been cited in earlier chapters. The poem includes detailed descriptions of the heavenly bodies, the
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seasons, the sea, and the fruits, trees, and flowers of the earth. Various species of land animals are discussed, followed by different marine creatures, insects, and birds. 4 At the end of the poem there is a prayer, which is put into the mouth of the patriarch. In this conclusion the patriarch refers to Heraclius's victories against the Persians, describes the emperor as the sun on earth, and beseeches God to grant that Heraclius may rule the whole world under the sun: 0 [God] the architect of such marvels [of Creation] ... grant that he who received his power from You, the saviour of the world (kosmorysten), the pursuer of the Persians ... , may rule all the territory under the sun. Show that earth imitates heaven, now that one sun rules also below [as it does above]. He who appeared as the world-wide slayer (kosmoktonon) of the Persians should also become the world-ruler (kosmikon despoten) . ... Increase in him the power of the fear of you. Thus he will have sure prizes of victory, he who has been deemed worthy of a second victory against the enemy. The patriarch goes on to speak of Heraclius's sons: "Make his young shoots take root and flower into the living fruit of world-wide fruitfulness (kosmikes eukarpias); make them the images of their father. " 5 Throughout this concluding prayer, George of Pisidia reiterates the root word kosmos, so that his preceding description of the world created by God is neatly turned into a panegyric of, and a prayer for, the emperor's universal rule. Another Byzantine text that relates the victories of Heraclius to the Creation of the world is the Chronography of Theophanes. This chronicle makes a direct comparison between the emperor's military campaigns and the six days of Creation: The emperor, after exhausting Persia with six years of war, brought peace in the seventh and returned with great joy to Constantinople, having fulfilled, as it were, a mystic mission in this. For God, when he had made all of Creation in six days, called the seventh the day of rest: so the emperor, having completed many labors in the six years, on the seventh returned in the city with peace and joy and took rest. 6
EARTH AND OCEAN IN THE PALACE The image of the emperor as ruler of a bountiful earth and sea was as much a convention of imperial art as it was of panegyric. In the sculptures of the arch that formed the vestibule to the palace of Galerius at Thessaloniki, for example, we find personifications of Earth and Ocean flanking a group portrait of the Four Tetrarchs. 7 On the great silver missorium of Theodosius I in Madrid, Earth is seen directly under the feet of the emperor enthroned in his palace. She reclines in a field of ripe wheat and holds a cornucopia brimming with fruit, while naked putti offer up her produce as a tribute to her generous ruler (fig. 84). 8 A less well-known work of art that portrayed a personification of Earth in an imperial setting was a wall mosaic in an early Byzantine palace, which we know of from a description composed by a Byzantine rhetorician named Constantine Manasses, who was writing around the middle of the twelfth century. Constantine tells us that the mosaic was in a room located in a palace, which served as a "bed chamber of the emperors of older times." He also says that the mosaic was on the walls of the room, even though. we might consider parts of its imagery more
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appropriate for the floor. Unfortunately, he does not specify which palace he was referring to, but it was very possibly the Great Palace in Constantinople, which was used and even added to by the Comnene emperors in the twelfth century. 9 The description, however, leaves little doubt that the mosaic was much older than the twelfth century; the best parallels among surviving mosaics are from the fifth and the sixth centuries. According to our Byzantine writer, the principal subject of the mosaic was Earth, who was personified as a woman, holding ears of wheat in her hands and surrounded by a circle of fruits, sea creatures, and birds. The motifs that encircled the central figure of Earth were divided from each other by partitions; they included a pile of apples with a tit fluttering around them, pears, pomegranates being pecked at by a partridge, dates, cherries, figs with a little sparrow, and nuts such as walnuts and almonds. The various sea creatures included fish with spikes, red mullet, lobster, and crab. There was also a cock, a group of bird bones, and fish skeletons and heads, the last being nibbled at by a lifelike mouse, which Constantine Manasses described at some length. The general outlines of Constantine's description fit with the iconography of a Byzantine silk textile of the sixth or seventh century that was found in the coffin of St. Cuthbert at Durham (fig. 85). Io The silk is decorated with repeated medallions, each of which encloses a half-length female figure, richly dressed and holding between her hands a scarf full of fruits. This personification, which evidently represents Earth, rises from water that fills the lower part of the roundel; in the waves fish and ducks can be seen swimming. The circular frame ofthe medallion is filled with various fruits, such as grapes, figs, and pomegranates. Thus both the textile and the mosaic described by Constantine seem to have shown Earth, personified as a woman, surrounded in a circle by fruits, fish, and birds. Both works may have expressed the idea of the earth in the midst of the ocean, which was, as we have seen, a common concept oflate antique cosmography, finding expression in the decoration of churches. Among surviving mosaics the best parallel for the overall arrangement of Constantine's mosaic is a sixth-century floor discovered at Daphne, the suburb of Antioch in Syria, which shows Earth surrounded by her fruits. II Here we see a bust of Ge, or Earth, enclosed in a medallion in the center of the floor. Around her are scattered various fruits and vegetables, arranged on large leaves. In the border there is a vine rinceau containing birds. Other surviving floor mosaics of the fifth and sixth centuries provide closer parallels for the individual motifs that Constantine Manasses saw arranged around the central figure of Earth. For example, the fifth-century lozenge grid at Khalde, in the Lebanon, displays various fruits, both on trees and in baskets, which are pecked at by different species of birds (fig. 3 5). 12 This mosaic also shows an assortment of sea creatures around the periphery (fig. 37). The motifs are divided from each other by partitions, like the objects described by Constantine Manasses. 13 There can be little doubt, then, that the mosaic described by the medieval author dated to the early Byzantine period. This personification of Earth and her produce, situated as it was in the emperor's bedchamber, must have been intended to convey the extent and prosperity of his dominions, in the same manner as the textile of Earth and Ocean that Queen K ypros sent to the Emperor Gaius. I 4 Some Byzantine works of art explicitly associated Christ with the universal rule of the emperor, in a manner similar to the panegyrical texts. The most striking example is the famous ivory known as the Barberini Diptych, which portrays a mounted emperor who is probably Justinian (fig. 86). 15 On this ivory the emperor and Christ are presented as virtual partners in world dominion, with the emperor imitating the divine rule. In the strip at the bottom, beneath the hooves of the emperor's horse, we see representativ:es of the barbarian peoples, who bring
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tribute from the farthest reaches of the earth. They come dressed in their respective native costumes and accompanied by animals from their lands of origin. The barbarians on the right, who offer an ivory tusk and walk crouching beside a tiger and an elephant, are probably Indians. ' 6 In the central panel of the ivory we see Earth herself, seated on the ground under the front hooves of the rearing horse, and putting her right hand submissively under the emperor's foot. In her lap she cradles a pile of fruits. Behind the emperor's horse another barbarian raises his hand to acclaim his ruler. At the top right a winged victory flies down with a palm branch in her left hand and, originally, a wreath of victory in her right. In the panel on the left a military officer offers the emperor a trophy in the form of another victory proffering a crown; probably there was originally a matching figure on the right. The whole scene is presided over by Christ, who appears above, flanked by the sun, the moon, and a star, in a medallion held by two angels. ' 7 The carver of the ivory drew discreet parallels between Christ above and the emperor below. Both are framed by winged figures-angels for Christ, victories for the emperor. Both hold staffs in their hands-a scepter surmounted by a cross for Christ, a spear for the emperor. Within the conventions of Byzantine style, the artist has even managed to suggest a similarity between the faces of the two rulers.
THE CHURCH OF S. VITALE AT RAVENNA Christ and the emperor are linked in universal triumph in another major monument of the Justinianic period, namely, the mosaics in the sanctuary of the church of S. Vitale in Ravenna, which were completed before 548. ' 8 There are many interwoven strands of meaning in these mosaics, which criss-cross and overlap each other in a dense web. I shall concentrate on the imperial and triumphal imagery, which portrays the terrestrial world as subject to the rule of God and of the emperor. But even though this is only one strand in the overall message of the mosaics, it is a conspicuous one. At S. Vitale we do not find the earth in the form of a personification, as in the mosaic described by Constantine Manasses, but it is evoked by means of signs that represent the elements of Creation, as in most of the floor mosaics discussed in previous chapters; these signs are to be found on the vault and arches that cover the chancel at S. Vitale. The vault is divided into four segments by diagonal bands decorated with various fruits, flowers, and birds (figs. 87 and 88). In each segment the designer portrayed a considerable variety of creatures ofland and air, framed by scrolls of luxuriant rinceaux that bear a profusion of fruits and flowers. The eastern and western segments contain only birds of different species set against a gold ground. The land animals are all shown in the northern and southern segments of the vault against a green background. Among the terrestrial beasts the viewer can now recognize a hare in flight, a running antelope, a fawn, a white ram, a billy goat, panthers running and springing, and perhaps a lion. Among the birds it is possible to identify a white dove, a green parrot, an owl, a cock, a quail, a swallow, and various water birds, including a duck and a large white bird with a snake in its beak. In addition, there are several prominently featured peacocks, two in side view at the base of the western segment of the vault and four more spreading their tails at the bottom of each of the diagonal bands that divide the segments. There has been some restoration in these vault mosaics, but the important point is the variety of creatures, which is authentic. ' 9 Many of the animals and birds portrayed at S. Vitale were also discussed in the poem on the world by
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George of Pisidia; like the designer of the mosaics, the Byzantine writer gave special attention to the peacock, for we have seen that he described this bird in two separate places, not as a symbol of Paradise but as the most splendid adornment of terrestrial Creation. 20 The imagery of the vault over the chancel at S. Vitale should be read in conjunction with the motifs displayed on the two great arches that open from the chancel into the apse and into the nave, respectively (fig. 87). The summit of the eastern arch displays a jeweled christogram in a medallion (fig. 89). This triumphal sign of Christ is flanked on each side by seven pairs of cornucopias set against a gold band that curves around the soffit of the arch. The cornucopias in each pair cross over each other, so that the tops and bottoms of adjacent pairs of cornucopias form circles that enclose floral sprays topped by fruits or birds. The crossed cornucopias are bordered by two lines of red-bordered rosettes, which fill the free spaces at the edges of the gold band. The soffit of the western arch carries medallion busts that portray Christ flanked by twelve apostles and two saints, all set against a blue band (fig. 90). The setting of the portraits on this arch complements the design of the eastern arch; each medallion is placed in a frame made up of two pairs of dolphins with interlinked tails, so that the dolphins form a pattern analogous to the crossed cornucopias on the opposing arch. The medallions are also bordered by two lines of red-tinted rosettes, similar to those on the arch of the apse. Between the dolphins' tails and the portraits there are little shells. Since the vault between the eastern and the western arches portrays the creatures of earth and air, it is possible that the framing motifs on the arches were also intended to stand for elements of Creation: The cornucopias enclosing various fruits and birds represented the abundance of the earth; the dolphins and the shells against their dark-blue background represented the sea. A parallel can be drawn between the motifs on the two arches at S. Vitale and those on the intarsia panels in the apse of the church built by Bishop Eufrasius at Porec (Parenzo), which also dates to around the middle of the sixth century (fig. 91). At Porec we find a repeated design consisting of two cornucopias crossed over each other and framing a trident. This composition must have been intended to signify the earth and the sea, like the cornucopias and dolphins at S. Vitale. In an earlier period at Ravenna, pairs of dolphins, sometimes accompanied by tridents, appear to have been used as emblems of the sea on the tombstones of mariners of the Roman fleet. 21 Along with the plant and animal life of earth, air, and sea, the mosaics of S. Vitale may also portray the four seasons. It has been suggested that the four blue spheres on which the peacocks stand in the corners of the vault may represent astronomical phases, as they are differentiated by larger and smaller areas of light (fig. 88). 22 The four Rivers of Paradise are also included in the program at S. Vitale. They appear in the apse, where they flow from beneath the feet of Christ in Paradise (fig. 93), and they may also be portrayed beneath the Evangelists at the four corners of the chancel (fig. 87). The Evangelists are set in narrow panels on the north and south walls, underneath the springing of the vault. Each author sits in a rocky landscape, which has a strip of water at the bottom, where we can see marsh or river birds such as ducks or herons. We have seen in chapter II that Early Christian writers frequently associated the four Rivers of Paradise with the authors of the Gospels, whose teachings irrigated the whole world. 23 Since the river scenes at S. Vitale accompany the portraits of the Evangelists, they may have been intended to represent the message of the Gospels flowing, like the Rivers of Paradise, into the four corners of the earth. 24 In the context of these motifs evoking Earth and Ocean, the four gold crosses that are placed in medallions on the north and south walls of the chancel may refer to the cardinal directions of the world (fig. 87). Two of these crosses are held up by flying angels immediately beneath the
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openings to the gallery; these are Latin crosses, set against concentric circles of blue. Two more gold crosses, also set against blue circles, appear above the crowns of the gallery arches. As shown in chapter II, the significance of the cross in the context of the world was explained by several writers, including the sixth-century orator John of Gaza in his description of a painting of the universe that adorned a bathhouse in his city. This painting portrayed a cross similar in form to the crosses under the gallery openings at S. Vitale. John of Gaza described it as a Latin cross, which was of flashing gold and was set against three concentric circles of blue "like a representation of the celestial sphere." He explained that "four extremities grew [out of the cross], because the primeval age was east, west, south, and north, having accomplished the holding together of the world from these four. " 25 At S. Vitale the images of the created world are woven into a complex tapestry with many overlapping messages. By grouping the images in different ways, the viewer can obtain more than one reading from the mosaics, as in the mosaic at Qasr-el-Lebia, described in chapter IV; this potential for multiple interpretations was probably intended by the designer. One way of reading the motifs from nature at S. Vitale is to associate them with the lamb that appears in the midst of stars in a medallion held aloft by four angels at the center of the vault (fig. 88). If combined in this manner, the motifs can be seen as an illustration of chapter 5, verse r 3, of the Apocalypse, which describes how "every creature which is in heaven, and on earth, and under the earth, and such as are in the sea" honors and glorifies the lamb: The rinceaux that surround the animals can also be interpreted as the Tree of Life, which, according to chapter 22 of the Apocalypse, grew beside the water of life that flowed from the throne of the lamb. 26 But, in addition, the fruits and plants, the animals from Earth and Sea, the birds of the air, together with the symbols of the seasons, can be read in conjunction with the triumphal elements in the program of S. Vitale and thus can be given the same significance that they received in the works of writers such as Eusebius and George of Pisidia: The world created by God is to be conquered and ruled by the emperor in association with and in imitation of the Ruler of the universe. There is a strong strain of imperial and triumphal imagery in the mosaics of S. Vitale that appears most conspicuously in the decoration of the apse (fig. 92). Not only are there the famous portraits of Justinian (fig. 94) and Theodora on the lower wall, but there is also the mosaic in the apse vault which depicts an imperial ceremonial, for here we see Christ seated on Lglobe bestowing a jeweled crown on a victorious soldier martyr (fig. 93). As Andre Grabar has pointed out, the globe-shaped throne was a symbol of universal dominion that had already been used for emperors. 27 In the mosaic the soldier Saint Vitalis is dressed as a high-ranking officer, wearing a tunic and a cloak made of the same richly patterned silk as is worn by one of the court ladies in Theodora's portrait at the right of the apse; 28 his attire here contrasts with the slightly later mosaic in the church of S. Apollinare Nuovo at Ravenna, where he wears a simple white robe (fig. 95). 29 The composition of Christ with St. Vitalis brings to mind Procopius's description of the mosaics of the Chalke, the monumental gateway to the Great Palace in Constantinople, which portrayed Justinian approached by his victorious general Belisarius. 30 The motifs that decorate the soffit of the arch leading into the apse of S. Vitale also have an imperial resonance, for at the top the triumphal sign of Christ is flanked by two pairs of cornucopias that frame eagles (fig. 89). Both cornucopias and eagles were emblems with strong imperial connotations. 3 ' Since Ptolemaic times the cornucopia could serve as a symbol of royal rule. 32 In the Roman world it came to express the prosperity of the earth under the emperors and the abundance of its tribute. For this reason it is held by the personification of Earth under the feet of Theodosius on the silver missorium in Madrid (fig. 84). 33 The eagle, as we have seen
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earlier, was associated with Jupiter, with imperial apotheosis, and with victory. 34 The connotations of eagles and of cornucopias were not, of course, exclusively imperial; a cornucopia could signify prosperity in contexts that were not political, 35 while an eagle could carry various Christian meanings, which have been reviewed in earlier chapters. 36 However, given the nature of the other images in the apse of S. Vitale, it would be reasonable to read the eagles and cornucopias as imperial emblems in this context. As Carl-Otto Nordstrom has shown, imperial cameos provide some especially close parallels for the design and arrangement of these motifs in the church. An onyx cameo in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna shows a pair of crossed cornucopias framing an eagle with outspread wings, the same composition that flanks the christogram in S. Vitale (figs. 96 and 89). The cornucopias on the cameo support busts, probably those of the Emperor Claudius and his family. 37 Two other cameos, in Paris and in Nancy, show imperial figures holding cornucopias and being carried on the backs of eagles while victories crown them with wreaths. 38 Another parallel to the emblems decorating the apse at S. Vitale is provided by the bust of the Emperor Commodus in the Conservatori Museum at Rome. Underneath this portrait, which depicts the emperor as Hercules, we find a support formed of two crossed cornucopias, which frame a heavenly globe and a shield crowned by eagles' heads. 39 The imperial and triumphal imagery of the mosaics in S. Vitale should be taken to refer not only to Christ but also to the emperor, for, according to Justinianic state propaganda, Christ and the emperor were partners, even if the emperor was the junior partner of the two: Justinian won victories through the grace of God, and God gained victories through the agency of Justinian. In the introduction to his great poem describing the reconstructed church of St. Sophia in Constantinople, Paul the Silentiary explicitly sets out the close association between Christ and the Emperor Justinian in all fields of imperial activity; this part of the introduction was addressed to the emperor in the palace, before the audience moved to the Patriarchate. Paul declares: Is it possible to find a greater day than the present day, on which God and the emperor are honored? This cannot be said. We know Christ is the Lord, we know it completely. This, 0 most powerful [ruler] you make known by your words even to the barbarians. Whence you have Him present as a colleague in your actions, whether you frame laws, whether you found cities, whether you build churches, or whether you set arms in motion, should that be necessary, or draw up treaties and arrange battles; whence victory attaches to your labors, like a sign. After associating Justinian with Christ, the poet goes on to declare that because of the emperor's conquests his rule extends over the whole earth: "If we should travel to the West, across the whole earth, is not the ocean itself the boundary of your power? And of all the peoples to the East, have you not overturned some in battle, and won over others beforehand? Has not all Libya long been a slave to you?" 40 Later on, Paul the Silentiary declares that the enemies of the emperor are the enemies of God: "Does not he who does not want this emperor to rule take up arms against God himself?" 4 ' We find a similar sentiment in the work of the historian Procopius. Before his description of St. Sophia, Procopius relates how the instigators of the Nika riot set fire to the old church, and he charges that "it was not against the emperor alone that they had taken up arms, but no less against God himself. " 42 The association of Christ with imperial victory in these descriptions of St. Sophia should encourage us to read into the triumphal imagery of S. Vitale a double reference-to Christ and
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to Justinian. It was certainly possible for Byzantine poets of the period to use images with this kind of ambiguous meaning, at once imperial and divine. 43 A striking example is a metaphor employed by Corippus in his poem on the death ofJustinian and the accession ofJustin II. The poet, describing how the new emperor is raised on the shield, speaks of the "equal rising of two suns," and though he does not explicitly say it, he implies through his subsequent choices of words that one sun is Justin, the other Christ, the Sun ofJustice. 44 We have already seen that ambiguity, which enables the speaker to hint at what he cannot say openly, was discussed by the influential rhetorical treatises of Hermogenes. 45 In this particular case, Corippus even seems to go so far as to intimate a kind of equation between the divine and the earthly rulers; in a later passage, however, when Corippus describes the relationship between the emperor and Christ explicitly, he speaks merely of imitation. 46 If we return to the mosaics of S. Vitale, we can see the association between Christ and the emperor hinted at in visual language, though here Justinian is clearly the subservient partner. In the famous portrait mosaic at the base of the apse, Justinian appears with twelve companions, in imitation of the higher court of Christ and his twelve apostles, who are portrayed in the medallions of the western arch (figs. 94 and 90)Y Like Christ, Justinian is arrayed in imperial purple, while his flanking retinue is dressed in white. Byzantine writers of this period, like artists, used parallel vocabularies to describe the heavenly and the imperial courts, as we learn from a verse by Romanos, which presents Christ as the world Ruler with a "senate" comprising the twelve apostles. The verse occurs in the hymn on The Mission of the Apostles, where we hear the Lord addressing his college: "I say to my saints, go into all the world, and make disciples of the nations and kingdoms. For everything has been given to me by Him who begot me, what is above as well as what is below, of which I was the Master even before I assumed flesh. And now I have become King of all, and in you I have a sacred senate (synkleton)." 48 The designer of the mosaics also linked the triumphs of God and of the emperor through St. Vitalis, the martyr who is portrayed in the vault of the apse (fig. 93). As we have seen, St. Vitalis stands on the right hand of Christ, holding out his arms, which are covered by his cloak, in order to receive a jeweled crown of victory from his Lord. Below the soldier saint and slightly to the left stands Justinian, in a similar pose, offering to Christ a paten, which he holds with one hand also covered by his cloak (figs. 92 and 94). The emperor and the martyr are related to each other and to Christ in a manner that is explained by another passage from Romanos, already quoted in chapter V. In the concluding verse of his second kontakion on The Forty Martyrs of Sebaste, who were soldier-saints like St. Vitalis, the poet says, "But just as then, Christ, Saviour, my Emperor [basileu], you granted victory to your saints [the forty Martyrs] against demons and tyrants, so now be placable and present victories and trophies to the most faithful king Uustinian] against the barbarians. " 49 Thus in the apse of the church of S. Vitale, Justinian stands below the saint so that he will receive from Christ the crown-trophy that will ensure victory over his barbarian enemies and give him universal rule. 50 The emperor is seen as servant and beneficiary of Christ, but nonetheless a servant who shares in the fruits of his Master's triumph. At S. Vitale, then, the motifs that signify the terrestrial world are part of a triumphal program: They celebrate the victories of Christ and of the emperor at the same time. This message was appropriate for the policies of Justinian, who had ambitions to push his power across the whole earth to the boundaries of the ocean in the West, who wished to convert pagans and heretics, and who had, in fact, just taken Ravenna from the Arians and added it to his conquests.
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NE of the principal themes of this book has been the recognition that different designers could invest the same motifs from nature with differing degrees and types of significance. I have attempted to distinguish between works of art according to their perspective. There are those that apparently presented the terrestrial world only in its literal sense as the Lord's estate, those that mingled a basically literal viewpoint with some symbolism, those that were completely, or nearly completely, symbolic, and those that were to some extent moralistic in purpose. To the first of these categories, of literal interpretations, belong the floor mosaics in the basilicas of Dumetios at Nikopolis and of Thyrsos at Tegea, as well as the carvings on the wooden ceiling beams at Mount Sinai. To the second, or mixed category, belong the floor mosaics in the basilica at Khalde, in the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa, and in the Large Basilica at Heraklea. To the third, or completely symbolic, category belong the floor mosaics in the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia and in the basilica of Justinian at Sabratha. To the fourth, or moralistic category, belong the pavements in the churches of the Priest John and of St. George at Khirbat al-Makhayyat. Finally, this book has discussed portrayals of Earth and Ocean in the context of imperial iconography: The last chapter has shown that descriptions of the terrestrial world gave both panegyrists and artists the opportunity to combine the praises of God, who made the earth, with those of the emperor, who rules it. For this reason, depictions of Earth and Ocean were as much at home in the palace as in the Church. Because designers of works of art in the fifth and sixth centuries, like commentators, differed among themselves in their attitudes to symbolism, the modern viewer has the problem of determining when a given motif was consciously intended to carry symbolic meaning and when it was not. My guiding principle throughout this study has been to consider motifs from
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natural history innocent of symbolism, unless their designer has indicated by some means that he wished them to be read as symbols. This has seemed to me the best way to proceed, since it is often possible to demonstrate the presence of symbolism, but it is usually extremely difficult to prove its absence. When a designer of a work of art gave no pointers to the presence of symbolism, we have no way of knowing what was in his mind; his work always has the potential for symbolic interpretation, even if there is no indication that this was the designer's intention. In such cases, the assigning of possible symbolic meaning was left entirely to the discretion of the viewer. Because the distinction between literal and symbolic images depends upon the recognition of pointers or. cues indicating the intended presence of symbolism, a principal aim of this book has been to examine the various types of evidence that can signal a designer's intent to allegorize subjects drawn from nature. The most valuable but most rarely found form of evidence is an inscription explaining the content of the image, such as the legend at Khalde, which reads the "ship of peace." Occasionally personifications point to the symbolic meaning of a work of art, such as the portraits of Ktisis, Kosmesis, and Ananeosis at Qasr-el-Lebia. Often the composition provides a clue by giving a particular emphasis to certain motifs. At times the emphasis can take the form of special framing in a prominent location, as in the case of the vine plants at Gerasa and Heraklea, or the phoenix and the peacock at Sabratha. At other times the emphasis is provided by artificial posing, as in the case of the paired and .symmetrically confronted deer and peacocks at Heraklea, Butrinto, and Nea Anchialos, or the fish arranged in the shape of a cross at Heraklea. In the narthex mosaic at Heraklea, the animals and birds caught in naturalistic poses of fight and flight were signs representing the variety of the terrestrial world, but the symmetrically and statically posed creatures in the wreath at the center of the floor were also symbols carrying further levels of Christian significance. Sometimes an association of motifs with signs drawn from different contexts can give a clue to their symbolic meaning, as we saw in the grape rinceau at Sabratha, where birds were juxtaposed with jeweled crowns. Sometimes the context of the whole work of art provides evidence of a circumstantial kind that motifs drawn from natural history were intended to carry more than one level of meaning. A mosaic of birds in a funerary context, for example, would have been appropriate to represent the ascending souls of the departed. I have argued that in most of the symbolic portrayals of the terrestrial world the individual motifs functioned on at least two levels. In the first place, they continued to be signs representing the diversity of nature, but, in addition, some of the motifs carried one or more symbolic meanings referring to concepts of the Christian faith. Occasionally they could serve as allegories in the true sense, in that they could represent the narrative of Creation as a foreshadowing of the Christian era. The Nilotic scenes at Qasr-el-Lebia, for example, may have been intended to refer both to the gathering of the waters to create dry land and to the arrival of Christ in Egypt. This double function of the motifs from nature, as signs and as symbols, helps to explain the naturalism of most of the plants and animals in the works of art discussed here. We have found relatively few examples of abstraction; the schematic trees portrayed in the aisles of the Justinianic basilica at Sabratha are an exception (fig. 70). If the motifs from Earth and Ocean had been symbols only, there would have been no need for naturalism-it would have made no difference how the artist portrayed a tree, so long as it was recognizably a tree. Indeed, too much realistic detail might have distracted the viewer from the symbolic content of the image. 1 But since the motifs were also signs representing the diversity, the intricacy, and the beauty of God's Creation, there was an incentive for artists to keep them naturalistic. As a result, the
CONCLUSION
83
evocations of nature in early Byzantine art can differ considerably in their degree of realism from contemporary portraits of saints or of living dignitaries, in which for various reasons naturalism was no longer sought. We may contrast, for example, the lively renderings of birds and beasts on the vault of S. Vitale at Ravenna with the static and straitened figures ofJustinian and Theodora and their retinues in the apse (figs. 88 and 94). The late fifth and the sixth centuries were the high period for depictions of natural history in Byzantine art both in the variety and the complexity of the imagery. In the late fourth and in the earlier part of the fifth centuries, the dominant taste in ecclesiastical floor mosaics had been for geometric compositions, with relatively few living creatures. But by the sixth century pavements were showing practically every type of animal, plant, and fruit known to exist on the earth, as well as some that did not exist, such as the goat-footed Pan and the fish-tailed triton. In addition, there were portrayals of landscape features, such as rivers and springs, and of the months and the seasons. It is possible that the Hexaemeron literature itself may have prepared the ground for the eventual acceptance of this type of subject matter into churches. The commentaries on Creation, even those that gave a literal interpretation of the terrestrial world, provided an excuse for the inclusion of animal and plant life in ecclesiastical buildings, because the church fathers looked upon the varied aspects of nature as reminders of God's greatness and power; in their minute construction, even the lowliest creatures could display the mind of the Creator. Throughout this book I have stressed the ability of individual motifs to carry different meanings in different contexts, and sometimes several meanings in one context. By exploiting the polyvalences inherent in their artistic vocabulary, designers of the sixth century were able to saturate their compositions with meaning and to produce works of considerable intellectual complexity and sophistication. Especially during the reign of Justinian, some works of art exhibited a kaleidoscopic shifting and overlapping of meanings, and in particular a use of ambiguous symbols to reconcile religious and political ideas. These qualities, which can also be found in contemporary literature, appear strikingly in the imagery of the mosaics in the Justinianic basilica at Sabratha, in S. Vitale' at Ravenna, and above all in the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia. By the end of the seventh century depictions of birds, beasts, and plants in churches had once more begun to fall into disfavor. In part this was because churches that appeared to display such symbols instead of portrait images of Christ and his saints could be associated with monophysite views, and eventually with iconoclasm. We saw in chapter I that the orthodox council of 692 stipulated that Christ be portrayed in human form, "in place of the ancient lamb. " 2 The iconoclasts, on the other hand, were accused of scraping the images of Christ and his saints from the walls of church buildings and replacing them with an assortment of animals and vegetation. "Is it not far more worthy," said John of Damascus in the eighth century, "to adorn all the walls of the Lord's house with the forms and images of saints rather than with beasts and trees?" 3 In the early ninth century the orthodox Patriarch Nikephoros, speaking of the animals depicted in the sanctuaries of churches, especially those woven into textiles, saw no religious value in them but argued that their purpose was purely ornamental: "The forms of the other animals were not originally produced so as to be raised up to the altar and to be worshipped, but for decoration and for the seemly adornment of the cloths on which they had been worked. " 4 The defenders of icons had little sympathy for signs and symbols that they felt did not explicitly demonstrate the truth of the incarnation. They looked instead for portrait and narrative images that would more effectively set the earthly life of Christ before the faithful. Even so
84
CONCLUSION
universal a sign as the cross was considered deficient m this respect. "The cross," wrote Nikephoros, brings us the Passion of Christ simply and without adornment. By the more uneducated it would hardly be understood as a sign of the Passion. But the sacred images not only embroider the Passion and delineate it in greater detail, but also they demonstrate with greater breadth and clarity the miracles and prodigies that Christ performed. . . . Furthermore, the cross is a symbol of the Passion, and it [only] hints at the manner in which He who suffered bore the Passion. 5 The iconography of hints and shifting allusions that had characterized many early Byzantine works ofart was generally rejected by the orthodox of the ninth century. Both in style and in content, the art of churches that followed their final victory over iconoclasm was to take on a new, less elastic, and less varied form.
Notes
INTRODUCTION r. See the remarks ofT. F. Mathews, "The Early Armenian Iconographic Program of the :E]miacin Gospel," East of Byzantium: Syria and Armenia in the Formative Period, ed. N. G. Garsoi:an, T. F. Mathews, and R. W. Thomson, Washington, 1982, 199-212, esp. 200.
2. For a discussion of the "floating chain" of signifieds inherent in images, see R. Barthes, "Rhetoric of the Image," in Image, Music, Text, New York, 1977, esp. 39, 46f.
Pavement Mosaics in the Greek East from the Age of Constantine to the Age of Justinian," in La mosai"que Greco-Romaine, Colloques Internationaux du Centre National de la Recherche Scientifique, Paris, 1965, 34152, esp. 343ff.; reprinted in Kitzinger, 1976, 64-74. On individual provinces, see, for example: H. Stern, "Sur quelques pavements paleochretiens du Liban," Cahiers Archeologiques, xv, 1965, 2I-37, esp. 31ff;j. Ch. Baity et al., Mosaiques de l'eglise de Herbet Muqa (Fouilles d' Apamee de Syrie: Miscellanea, IV), Brussels, 1969, esp. 18; Spiro, I, p. lxii; Kolarik, esp. I8off. 4- Mansi, XIII, col. I8I; translation by Mango, 43. 5. Mansi, VIII, col. I039, and XIII, col. 184; Mango, 44-
CHAPTER I
6. Migne, PG, c, col. I 120; translation by Mango, I 52-53· 7- Migne, PG, c, col. II I3; Mango, I 52. 8. Mansi, XI, col. 980; Mango, 140.
r. For a rejection of symbolic interpretations, see J.
W. Crowfoot, Early Churches in Palestine, London, 1941, II9. For a more positive attitude toward symbolism, see, for example, Saller and Bagatti, 1949, 86-111. 2. Epistulae, 4.61; Migne, PG, LXXIX, cols. 577-80. Excerpted translation in Mango, 33. See also Biebel, 304. 3. On this vogue for geometric pavements, see especially E. Kitzinger, "Stylistic Developments in
9· In addition to the texts by Choricius cited below, see the description of the martyrion of St. Theodore at Euchaita by St. Gregory of Nyssa (Migne, PG, XLVI, col. 737; Mango, 36) and the poems on St. Sophia in Constantinople and on its ambo by Paul the Silentiary (Descriptio S. Sophiae, lines 647-52; Descriptio Ambonis, lines I2I-25; Mango, 86, 93). IO. Laudatio Marciani I, 32-33; ed. Foerster and Richsteig, ro-u; Mango, 62.
NOTES TO PAGES 7-rr
86
Laudatio Marciani II, so; ed. Foerster and Rich40; Mango, 72. Laudatio Marciani I, 35; ed. Foerster and RichI I. Odyssey, VII, lines I I 7- I 8. I4. Review of G. Cvetkovic-Toma5evic, Les mosai"ques paleobyzantines de pavement: Dardanie, Macedoine, Le Nouvel Epire, Belgrade, I978, in Bulletin d'Information de !'Association Internationale pour !'Etude de Ia Mosai"que Antique, VIII, I980, I75-78, esp. I76. On the levels of reading of animal motifs, see also M. A. Alexander, "Design and Meaning in the Early Christian Mosaics of Tunisia," Apollo, January 1983, 8-I3. IS. L. M. Ugolini, "Il battistero di Butrinto," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, XI, I934, 265-83, fig. 2; S. Adhami, Mozaike te Shqiperise, Tirane, I974, 7-8, and figures on pp. 47-50. H. Nallbani, "La Mosiique du baptistere de Butrint, une construction simultanee," Monumentet, XVIII, I979, 57-64, believes that the axial compositions are contemporary with the rest of the mosaic. But the manner in which these motifs cut across the overall pattern of the floor clearly indicates that they were afterthoughts to the original design, at whatever stage they were inserted. I owe this reference to Ruth Kolarik. I6. The mosaics are described and their date is discussed by Spiro, 3I9-50. But on the date, see also D. Pallas, Les monuments paleochretiens de Grece decouvertes de 1958 a 1973 (Sussidi allo studio delle antichiti cristiane pubblicate per cura del Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia cristiana, v), Vatican, I977, 50-52. I I. steig, I2. steig, I 3.
I7. Spiro, 347f., fig. 390. For the symbolism of the deer flanking the waters, see below, chapter III, notes 46-53· r8. See the useful discussion on the interpretation of symbols in art by Gombrich, esp. I-20. Gombrich, however, is unwilling to allow images in Renaissance art to carry several distinct meanings at the same time, whereas we shall see that such ambivalence was an important factor in early Byzantine art. I9. Migne, PG, XCII, cols. I335-48. 20. Strophes 6-8, ed. Grosdidier de Matons, rv, 33234· Compare the kontakion On the Victory of the Cross, strophes I5-I6, where the cross becomes in turn a thorn plant, a vine, a tree, and a life raft: ed. Grosdidier de Matons, IV, 304-6. 21. Hom ilia XXI, 7; ed. Mossay and Lafontaine, I24. 22. Homilia XXXI, 3 I; ed. Gallay and Jourjon, 33 8. 23. Homilia XXXI, 32; ed. Gallay andJourjon, 338. 24. Homilia XXXI, 33; ed. Gallay and Jourjon, 340. 25. Migne, PG, LXXXVIII, cols. 1004, ror6-r7. 26. Ennead V, 8.6; ed. E. Brehier, Plotin, Enneades, v, Paris, I93I, I42. See Gombrich, I58. 27. For general discussions of the symbolism of the vine in art, see D. Mallardo, "La vite negli antichi
monumenti cristiani di Napoli e della Campania," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, xxv, I949, 73-I03, and C. Dauphin, "Symbolic or Decorative? The Inhabited Scroll as a Means of Studying Some Early Byzantine Mentalities," Byzantion, XLVIII, I978, 10-34, esp. 27ff. 28. G. B. de Rossi, "Ancona-cubicolo sepolcrale cristiano di diritto privato, e musaico del suo pavimento," Bullettino di Archeologia Cristiana, series 3, IV, I879, 128-32, pls. 9-IO. 29. Vinea facta est dilecta in cornum in loco uberi. 30. For discussion of the meaning of the inscription, see de Rossi (as in note 28) and Saller and Bagatti, I949, 9731. Vassos Karageorghis, "Chronique des fouilles a Chypre en I976," Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique, CI, part 2, I977, 778f., fig. I I4. 32. 'Eyw Etf.tL l'j &~-tnEA.o\; l'j aA.rp'hVI]. 33. Kraeling, 254f., 336, pl. na. 34. ['Y]J1:EQ ow[T]'t')QLU\; JtUTQO\; I [x.ai ~-tlt'JTQO\; ta Uf.tWV I [u!lt]v f.tETa ruxaQLOTLU\; I [ngo]m~vLyxa. Kraeling, 486. Compare Eusebius, Demonstratio evangelica, r. Io: ovx.oliv xai ihlo!lEV xai 1'tuf.tLWf.tEV· nhE !lfv n'jv llVIJf.t'I'JV LOU llEYUAO'U ihl!lU'tO\; xma 'ta JtgO\; aUTOV nagaoo1't£vw !l'UOnlQLa EJtLTEAolivTE\;, xai n'jv un£g OW't'I']QLU\; llf.tWV ruxaQLO'tLUV flL' cVOE~WV Uf.tVWV 'tE xai ruxwv 'tql E>Ecp JtQOOX.Of.tL~OV'tE\;, TOTE Of OqJU\; aU'tmJ\; OAW\; xa1'tLEQOVV'tE\; au'tcp. 35. See especially the discussion by J. Engemann, "Zu den Apsis-Tituli des Paulin us von Nola," ]ahrbuch for Antike und Christentum, XVII, I974, 21-46, esp. 33f., 38f. 36. See, for example, the remarks ofGombrich, 1420, speaking of medieval and Renaissance art. 37. De inventione, 4-I3; ed. H. Rabe, Hermogenis opera, Stuttgart, 1969, 208ff. See also G. L. Kustas, Studies in Byzantine Rhetoric, Thessaloniki, I973, 189. Hermogenes also stressed that double meanings are created through the use of metaphor: De inventione, 4· IO; ed. Rabe, I9938. Institutio aratoria, 9.3.68-70. See also the definition given in the Ad C. Herennium, 4.21; ed. and trans. H. Caplan, London, I968, 280, from whose edition I have paraphrased my translation of the example. 39. Strophe 9, ed. Grosdidier de Matons, II, 58-60. 40. Book IV, lines 196-205; translation by Cameron, II4. 41. Compare John 10:3, "he calls his own sheep by name," and 10:4, "the sheep follow him, for they know his voice." See Cameron, 2oof. 42. The Vatican Collections: The Papacy and Art (exhibition catalogue, The Metropolitan Museum of Art), New York, I983, 98-99. 43. C. R. Morey, Early Christian Art, Princeton, I953. 276.
NOTES TO PAGES 12-18 44· Homilia XXX (Fourth Theological Oration), zr; ed. Gallay and Jourjon, 272. The Akathistos hymn addresses Mary as "mother of Lamb and Shepherd": Migne, PG, XCII, col. 1340. Paulinus of Nola, in his verses composed for the apse of the basilica at Fundi, refers to the central lamb as "an innocent sacrifice" and as a "shepherd": Epistula XXXII, 17; ed. Goldschmidt, 46. 45. See the discussion of the lambs in the apse of S. Apollinare in Classe at Ravenna by Deichmann, 1976, 259· 46. C. Cupane, "11 KoOf.lLxO~ I1Cva1; di Giovanni di Gaza: Una proposta di ricostruzione," ]ahrbuch der Osterreichischen Byzantinistik, XXVIII, 1979, 195-207. 47· For discussions of the motif at Mount Sinai, see K. Weitzmann, "The Mosaic in St. Catherine's Monastery on Mount Sinai," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, ex, no. 6, December 1966, 393405, esp. 40rf. (reprinted in idem, Studies in the Arts at Sinai, Princeton, 1982, 14f.), and F. de' Maffei, "L'unigenito consustanziale al Padre nel programma trinitario dei perduti mosaici del bema della Dormizione di Nicea e il Cristo trasfigurato del Sinai-!," Storia dell' Arte, XLV, 1982, 91-rr6, esp. ro3ff. 48. Part I, lines 41-44; ed. Friedlander, 137-38. 49. The monogram was carved on the chancel screen of St. Sophia: Descriptio Ecclesiae Sanctae Sophiae, lines 713-14; ed. Friedlander, 247; Mango, 87-88, note 157. 50. G. Matthiae, SS. Cosma e Damiano e S. Teodoro, Rome, 1948; R. Budriesi, "I mosaici della chiesa dei Santi Cosma e Damiano aRoma," Felix Ravenna, 3rd series, XLII, 1966, 5-35.
sr.
Ibid., r:i; W. Oakeshott, The Mosaics of Rome, Greenwich, Connecticut, 1967, 90-92. 52. Morey (as in note 43), 290. 53. A general discussion of the typology is found in W. N. Schumacher, "Eineromische Apsiskomposition," Romische Quartalschrift, uv, 1959, 137-202, esp. 170.
54· See Gombrich, 4· 55. Bellinger, 198-259, pls. 49-59. 56. ]. M. C. Toynbee, "Roma and Constantinopolis in Late-Antique Art from 365 to Justin II," in Studies Presented to David Moore Robinson, II, ed. G. E. Mylonas and D. Raymond, St. Louis, Missouri, 1953, 261-77, esp. 269, 277. 57· John of Ephesus, Historia ecclesiastica, 3. 14; trans. R. · Payne Smith, The Third Part of the Ecclesiastical History ofjohn Bishop ofEphesus, Oxford, r86o, 192, and E. W. Brooks, Corpus scriptorum christianorum orientalium, Scriptores Syri, series 3, III, Lou vain, 1946, 103.
58. Bellinger, z66, pl. 6o. 59. Gesta episcoporum neapolitanorum, 1.4; ed. G. Waitz, Scriptores rerum langobardicarum et italicarum saec. VI-IX (Monumenta Germaniae historica), Hannover, 1878, 405; Mallardo (as in note 27), roo.
87
6o. Ibid., ror. But see also G. Bovini, "Mosaici paleocristiani scomparsi di Napoli," XIV Corso di Cultura sull' Arte Ravennate e Bizantina, 1967, 27. 6r. G. Bovini, "I mosaici diS. Vittore «in ciel d'oro)) di Milano," XVI Corso di Cultura sull' Arte Ravennate e Bizantina, 1969, 71-80, esp. 72. A good illustration can be found in A. Grabar, The Golden Age of]ustinian, New York, 1967, fig. 128. The combination in the Neapolitan apse of Christian iconography with male personifications of the seasons holding fruit can be compared with the fourth-century mosaics in the domed hall at Centcelles in Spain; see T. Hauschild and H. Schlunk, "V orbericht uber die Arbeiten in Centcelles," Madrider Mitteilungen, II, 1961, 119-82, pls. r8-39. 62. Ph. Bruneau, "Un clevis de pose de mosai:ques: Le papyrus Cairo Zen. 59665," Memoires N. Kontaleon, 134-43; C. Balmelle and ]. P. Darmon, "L'artisan mosai:ste dans l'antiquite tardive ... reflections a partir des signatures," in Artistes, artisans et production artistique au moyen age, Rapports provisoires, Rennes, 1983, rr. 63. J. Robert and L. Robert, "Bulletin epigraphique," Revue des Etudes Grecques, LXXXI, 1968, 471; P. Lazaridis, Archaiologikon Deltion, xx, part B, 1965, 253-55, pls. 310-14; J.-P. Sodini, "Mosai:ques paleochretiennes de Grece," Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique, XCIV, I970, 7I3; Balmelle and Darmon (as in note 62), IO. 64. L. Foucher, "Note sur des signatures mosai:stes," Karthago, IX, 1958, 131-36, pls. r-2.
de
65. Ph. Bruneau, "A propos d'une mosai:que inscrite de Trikkala," Revue des Etudes Grecques, LXXXIII, 1970, pp. xvi-xvii.
66. Goldschmidt, passim. 67. ]. Ch. Balty, "L'Eveque Paul et le programme architectural et decoratif de la cathedrale d' Apamee," in Melanges d'histoire ancienne et d'archeologie o.fferts a Paul Col/art (Cahiers d'Archeologie Romande, v), Lausanne, 1976, 31-4~ figs. 3, 8-ro. 68. Ti]v nmxO..'Y)v '\ji'Y)
CHAPTER II r. Ancoratus, Migne, PG, XLIII, col. II3. 2. Ibid.
88
NOTES TO PAGES 18-23
3. The traditional identification of Gehon with the Nile was prompted by Jeremiah 2:rS: "And now what have you to do in the way of Egypt, to drink the waters of Gehon?" See Severian of Gabala, In mundi creationem, Oratio V, 6; Migne, PG, LVI, col. 479.
mosaics of the churches of the Priest John and of St. George at Khirbat al-Makhayyat (Saller and Bagatti, 1949, fig. 4, pl. 9, and fig. S, pl. 22). The mosaics at Khirbat al-Makhayyat are discussed in chapter vr.
4. Epistula ad ]oannem Episcopum jerosolymorum, Migne, PG, XLIII, col. 3S6.
24. See Grabar, 1962, esp. 150, note r, citing Origen, De principiis, 2.9.
5· De Genesi, Homilia I, 2; ed. Doutreleau, 2S-30. 6. Epistula ad ]oannem Episcopum ]erosolymorum, Migne, PG, XLIII, col. 387.
7. Translation by]. B. Morris, Select Works of S. Ephrem the Syrian, Oxford, IS47, 247, note b. S. Migne, PG, XLIV, col. I2I. 9· Homilia XXVIII; ed. Gallay and Jourjon, roo174· ro. Homilia XXVIII, 6; ed. Gallay andJourjon, uo. II. Homilia XXVIII, 22-31; ed. Gallay andJourjon, I44-74· 12. Quaestiones in Genesim, Migne, PG, LXXX, cols. 75-52S. I 3. Ibid., col. S9. 14. Commentarii in Genesim, Migne, PG, LXXXVII, r, cols. ros-S. rs. Part I, lines I-2S; ed. Friedlander, I36-37r6. Part II, lines r-44; ed. Friedlander, 150-52. 17. See chapter r, note 4S. rS. Levi, r, 260-73, fig. roo, and II, pls. 62b-63d; G. Downey, "John of Gaza and the Mosaic of Ge and Karpoi," in Antioch-on-the-Orontes, II, Princeton, 193 S, 205-12; G. M. A. Hanfmann, "The Seasons in John of Gaza's Tabula Mundi," Latomus, III, 1939, ru-rS. 19. See Kitzinger, 1951, esp. 103. Already in Homer's description of the shield of Achilles we find portrayals of the activities and produce of the earth surrounded by Oceanus "around the outermost rim": Iliad, xvrn, line 6oS. 20. De laudibus Constantini, 6.6; ed. Heikel, 20S. Translation by Drake, 92. 21. See below, note 29. Another bathhouse with a mosaic depicting motifs drawn from the earth and the waters was built by Leo VI at the Great Palace in Constantinople; see P. Magdalino, "The Bath of Leo the Wise," in Maistor: Classical, Byzantine and Renaissance Studies for Robert Browning, ed. A. Moffatt (Byzantina Australiensia, v), Canberra, 19S4, 225-40. 22. Notable exceptions include the personification of Thalassa on the nave floor of the Apostles Church at Madeba, dated 57S/9 (U. Lux, "Die Apostel-Kirche in Madeba," Zeitschrift des Deutschen Paliistina- Vereins, LXXXIV, 196S, 104-29, pl. 29, and M. Noth, "Die Mosaikinschriften der Apostel-Kirche in Madeba," Zeitschrift des Deutschen Paliistina- Vereins, LXXXIV, 196S, 130-42), and the personifications of Ge in the floor
23. Part
II,
line 69; ed. Friedlander, r 53.
25. See especially the sermons of St. Basil, cited in chapter" III, notes 9-14, and the Hexaemeron poem by George of Pisidia, cited in chapter VII, note 4. 26. Laudatio Marciani II, 34; translation by Mango, 69. 27. Kitzinger, 1951, figs. rS-19; idem, "Mosaic Pavements in the Greek East and the Question of a «Renaissance» under Justinian," Actes du VIe Congres International d'Etudes Byzantines, II, 209-23, esp. 214ff. (reprinted in Kitzinger, 1976, 49-63). 2S. The small bird has now largely disappeared, but it is clearly visible in the early photographs. 29. 'Qxcavov.nEgCcpavtov anCQttov £vita
Moogxa~
yrnav f!£ooov £xovta oocpoi~ 1vMA.J..taOL tEXVYJ~ mivta JtEQL~ CjlOQEOlJOav ooa JtVLEL tE xai EQJtEL· AollJ..tEtCov xt€avov J..tEyafuJJ..tOll UQXLEQijo~. Text and translation in Kitzinger, 1951, roo. 30. Ibid., 103. 31. See Wolska-Conus, r, 137-39. 32. Topographia christiana, 3.25 and 4.7; ed. WolskaConus, I, 46I-63 and 543-45. 33. C. Stornajolo, Le miniature della Topogra.fia Cristiana di Cosma Indicopleuste, codice vaticano greco 699 (Codices e Vaticanis selecti, x), Milan, I90S, 26, pl. 7. Virtually identical copies of the map are preserved in two eleventh-century manuscripts: Florence, Laurenziana Library, MS. Plut. rx. 2S, fol. 92v. (E. 0. Winstedt, The Christian Topography ofCosmas Indicopleustes, Cambridge, 1909, pl. 7), and Mount Sinai, St. Catherine's Monastery, MS. gr. uS6, fol. 66v. (E. K. Redin, Khristianskaia Topogra.fiia Koz'my Indikplova, Moscow, I9I6, pl. 9I).
34. Poematum de mosaicae historiae gestis, book r; Migne, PL, ux, col. 328. 35. MS. S, fol. 32v.; T. Ouspensky, L'Octateuque de Ia bibliotheque du Serail a Constantinople, Sofia, 1907, fig. IS. 36. MS. A. r, fol. 7r.; D. C. Hesseling, Miniatures de l'Octateuque grec de Smyrne (Codices graeci et latini, Supplementum, VI), Leiden, I909, fig. 8. 37. See C. Hahn, "The Creation of the Cosmos: Genesis Illustration in the Octateuchs," Cahiers Archeologiques, xxvm, I979, 29-40. 3S. Cf. Iliad, book XVII, line 447; Odyssey, book XVIII, line I 3 I. 39. See Kitzinger, 1951, 107, and idem, "World Map and Fortune's Wheel: A Medieval Mosaic Floor in
NOTES TO PAGES 23-27 Turin," Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society, CXVII, no. 5, 1973, 343-73, esp. 370 (reprinted in Kitzinger, 1976, 327-56). 40. A parallel to the Nikopolis mosaic, but containing a much greater variety of creatures, has been found in the nave of the church of St. John the Baptist at Oumm Harteyn in Syria, which was consecrated in A.D. 499/500. Like the pavement at Nikopolis, the Oumm Harteyn floor has a central panel that frames large trees as well as birds. However, in the Syrian church the central field is also filled with four-footed beasts, including lions and horses. This panel is surrounded by a border made up of small panels containing fish, ducks, and aquatic plants. See]. Balty, Mosaiques antiques de Syrie, Brussels, 1977, 130-31. The forthcoming publication by P. Donceel-Voute, Les pavements des eglises anciennes de Ia Syrie et du Liban: Archeologie et Liturgie (Publications d'Histoire de 1' Art et d' Archeologie de l'Universite catholique de Louvain), Louvain-la-Neuve, is not available to me at the time of writing. 41. Here I am using the definitions given by E. Leach in Culture and Communication: The Logic by Which Symbols Are Connected, Cambridge, 1976, 14-15. 42. Orlandos, 12-81. 43· See Spiro, 179-96, and now P. AssimakopoulouAtzaka, "E Chronologese tou psephidotou dapedou tes basilikes tou Thyrsou sten Tegea," Aphierifma ste mneme Stylianou Pelekanide (Makedonika, Periodikon syngramma Hetaireias Makedonikon Spoudon, parartema, v), Thessaloniki, 1983, 1-22. 44· [To] u om,;ou ,;O'IJ,;ov "tE[Aivou£, ev LEQEU<JEtv EVVEa'XaLOE'XU"tO£, EhJQOO£ 0 oo( LO:l"ta"tO )£ ~Yl]OO!!EVO£
awpo,;£gwv £xgwt!JEv rcgoOlJyogta£ eoiH.oic; 'XUL !!UQ"tUQ( E)L "tel 'X"tLO!!U"ta 'XUL AETt"taAE'YJ£ EUmJV-ItE"tO£ xOO!! (oc;) ...
reamv f..l\'tou
Orlandos, 5 I. 45. See the review of Orlandos by B. Brenk in Byzantinische Zeitschrift, LXIX, 1976, 584. 46. Orlandos, 53, compared this inscription from Syracuse: 'Qc; av "tO 13fi!!a <JErt"tOV [n], ZaxaQtac; 'XE'XAEL'XE "tOU"tO !!UQfAUQotc; E1Jouv-lt£wtc;
(Corpus inscriptionum graecarum, ed. H. Roehl, IV, Berlin, 1877, 585, no. 9895). Here, clearly, the epithet wouv-ltELOL£ refers to the decoration of the building.
52. Verse 2; translation after R. Lavenant, Ephrem de Nisibe, Hymnes sur le Paradis (Sources chretiennes, cxxxvii), Paris, 1968, 135. 53. Migne, PL, ux, col. 328. 54· Commentarii in Genesim, 1.23B; translation after Danielou, 451f. 55. Migne, PL, ux, cols. 329-30. See also the passage from St. Epiphanius of Salamis, quoted above in note 4, which speaks of his personal experience of two of the rivers. 56. The church of St. Catherine at Mount Sinai (chapter II, note 78), the basilica at Khalde (chapter III, note 17), the church of SS. Cosmas and Damian at Gerasa (chapter III, note 26), and the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia (chapter IV, note r6). 57· Migne, PG, XCI, col. 672. In another passage Maximus equates the nave with the physical world and the sanctuary with the invisible, incorporeal world; Migne, PG, XCI, cols. 668-669. For discussions of Maximus and architectural symbolism, see A. Grabar, "Le temoinage d'une hymne syriaque sur !'architecture de !a cathedrale d'Edesse au VIe siecle et sur la symbolique de !'edifice chretien," Cahiers Archeologiques, II, 1947, 41-67, esp. 57ff.; T. F. Mathews, The Early Churches of Constantinople: Architecture and Liturgy, University Park, Pennsylvania, 1971, esp. I2If. 58. De Genesi, Homilia I, 3; ed. Doutreleau, 34· 59. Hexaemeron, lines 325-37; Migne, PG, XCII, cols. 1459-60. 60. In Vigilia Paschae I, Migne, PL, XXXIX, col. 2056. 61. Carmen Paschale, 1, lines 43-59; ed. I. Huemer, Sedulii opera omnia (Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, x), Vienna, r885, 18-20. 62. See, for example, St. Augustine, Commentarii in Psalmum LXXIII, 20; Migne, PL, XXXVI, col. 941. 63. Sermo CCCLXI, De resurrectione mortuorum, ro; Migne, PL, XXXIX, col. 1604. 64. For example, Minucius Felix, Octavius, 34; Tertullian, Apologeticus, 48. 7; and De resurrectione carnis, 12. These passages are discussed by Hanfmann, I, 190f. See also Origen, Commentarii in Epistulam B. Pauli ad Romanos, 5.9; Migne, PG, XIV, col. 1044. 65. Hexaemeron, Homilia VI, 8; ed. Giet, 364-68. 66. For the inscription, see V. Berard, "Tegee et la Tegeatide," Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique, XVII, 1893, r-24, esp. 14.
47· Orlandos, 66f.
67. Levi, I, 320f.;
48. Ibid., 45f. 49. Genesis 2:9; Revelation 22:2.
68. Orlandos, 47·
so.
Odyssey, book IV, lines 565-68. See also Franz Cumont, Recherches sur le- symbolisme foneraire des Romains, Paris, 1942, r88ff. 51. De Paradiso, Migne, PG, xxx, col. 64.
89
II,
pl. 73·
69. Epistula LXXIII, ro; ed. G. Hartel, Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, III, part 2, Vienna, 1871, 785. 70. Jerome, Prologue to Matthew (Migne, PL, xxvr, cols. 17-18); Augustine, De Civitate Dei, 13.21 (ed. E.
90
NOTES TO PAGES 27-32
Hoffmann, Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, XL, part r, Vienna, rS99, 646). See the discussions by Underwood, esp. 7Iff., and P.-A. Fevrier, "Les quatres fleuves du Paradis," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, XXXII, 1956, I79-99, esp. 194ff. 71. Epistula XXXII, ro; text and translation in Goldschmidt, 39. On the Sedia di San Marco the four Rivers of Paradise were portrayed in association with carvings of the four Evangelists: The Treasury of San Marco, Venice (exhibition catalogue, The British Museum), London, I9S4, 9S-ros. 72. For example, the four rivers appear in the fifth-century floor of a baptistery at Ohrid; V. Bitrakova-Grozdanova, Monuments paleochretiens de Ia region d'Ohrid, Ohrid, 1975, ssff., pl. 4· In the mosaics of the baptistery of S. Giovanni in Fonte at Naples, the four rivers accompany the four Beasts of the Apocalypse; see De Bruyne, esp. 353ff. An inscription found in a baptistery at Ostia reads: " ... Geon Fison Tigris Eufrata Cri(st)ianorum sumite fontes"; see Underwood, 73, ftg. 33· 73. See above, note 4· 74. In mundi creationem, Oratio V, s; Migne, PG, LVI, col. 47S. 75· Poematum de mosaicae historiae gestis; Migne, PL, ux, cols. 329-30. 76. The inscription was put on the apse in two stanzas of seven lines; see Goldschmidt, 29, 9S. 77. I. Sevcenko, "The Early Period of the Sinai Monastery in the Light of Its Inscriptions," Dumbarton Oaks Papers, xx, 1966, 255-64, esp. 262. 7S. Drewer, I97I, IO. 79. Forsyth and Weitzmann, S, pis. 66-67. So. Naturalis historia, 35.142; on the motif, see E. Alfcildi-Rosenbaum, "A Nilotic Scene on Justinianic Floor Mosaics in Cyrenaican Churches," in La mosai"que greco-romaine, II, Paris, I975, 149-52. Sr. Drewer, I97I, 7S; G. H. Forsyth, "The Monastery of St. Catherine at Mount Sinai: The Church and Fortress of Justinian," in ]. Galey, Sinai and the Monastery of St. Catherine, New York, I98o, 49-64, esp.
waters above the firmament, because of their position high in the church. But since land animals also are carved on the ceiling beams, the Nilotic motifs at Sinai are more likely to illustrate terrestrial waters. For a general discussion of the Nile in Early Christian thought and art, see Alfred Hermann, "Der Nil und die Christen," ]ahrbuch for Antike und Christen tum, II, 1959, 30-69. 85. Part I, lines 35-37; ed. Friedlander, 137. On the tetradic symbolism of the cross, see Hanfmann, I, 206, note 425. and II,
9S,
S6. Homilia L, De cruce Domini II; Migne, PL, LVII, col. 342. 87. Evangelium secundum Marcum, IS; Migne, PL, XXX, col. 63S. 88. Topographia christiana, 3. I3; ed. Wolska-Conus, I, 449-51. S9. See Drewer, I97I, 44-48, 93-I07; idem, 198I, 533-47· 90. Drewer, I97I, 4S, I07. 91. Ibid., 48, 51. 92. Isaiah II:6-7. 93. M. Gough, "<
> An Early Christian Mosaic Pavement in Cilicia Campestris," Melanges A. M. Mansel, Ankara, I974, 418, ftg. 63. 94. Drewer also argues, with learning, that the Nilotic frieze portrays the messianic age, and in particular the mythical creatures Leviathan (represented by the crocodiles on the beam), Behemoth (the oxen), and Ziz (the ostriches); see Drewer, 197I, I58, and idem, "Leviathan, Behemoth and Ziz: A Christian Adaptation," Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes, xuv, I98I, 148-56. But the crocodiles, the oxen, and the ostriches need not be any more than characteristic motifs illustrating the Nile and the country through which it flows (on the group of the ox and the crocodile, see above, note So). In the context of a Christian church, this seems a more natural explanation than one derived from rabbinical sources.
ss. 82. The narthex mosaic of the large basilica at Heraklea Lynkestis, discussed in chapter III; the nave mosaic of the East Church at Qasr-el-Lebia, discussed in chapter IV. 83. Hexaemeron, 3; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, cols. S85S7. On the date, see chapter IV, note 2. S4. Commentarii in Genesim, Migne, PG, LXXXVII, I, col. roo. On the Nilotic frieze at Sinai, see also E. Chatel, "Les scenes marines des fresques de Saint-Chef: Essai d'interpretation," in Synthronon: Art et archeologie de Ia fin de l'antiquite et du moyen dge (Bibliotheque des Cahiers Archeologiques, n), Paris, I96S, I77-87, esp. ISO. Chatel argues that the Nilotic scenes represent the
CHAPTER III r. ]. Bernardi, "La date de l'Hexaemeron de Saint Basile," Studia Patristica, III (Texte und Untersuchungen, LXXVIII), Berlin, I96I, I65-69.
2. On the influence of the sermons, see Giet, 70f. 3. Homilia III, 9; ed. Giet, 236. 4· Homilia IV, 2-6; ed. Giet, 248-72. For the allegory of the gathering of the waters, see below, chapter IV, notes 3-12. 5· Homilia IX, I; ed. Giet, 47S-8o.
NOTES TO PAGES 32-38 6. Homilia I, II; ed. Giet, 134.
26. Biebel, 33 rf., pl. 73.
7. Homilia VI, II; ed. Giet, 386.
27. Kraeling, 482.
8. Homilia VIII, 7; ed. Giet, 462-64. See also Homilia III, ro; ed. Giet, 242. 9. Homilia V, 6; ed. Giet, 302-6. ro. Compare the discussion of the vine by St. Ambrose, who also gave it several meanings: Hexameron, Homilia V, 12.49-52; ed. Schenkl, 91-94. II. Homilia V, 2; ed. Giet, 284-86. I2. Homilia VII, 3; ed. Giet, 404-6. I3. Homilia VII, 5; ed. Giet, 4I8. I4. Homilia VIII, 5-6; ed. Giet, 454-62. 15. Johannes Quasten, Patrology, III, Utrecht, !960, 484-85. I6. In mundi creationem, Oratio IV, 2; Migne, PG, LVI, cols. 458-59. I7. M. H. Chehab, Mosai"ques du Liban (Bulletin du Musee de Beyrouth, xrv-xv), Beirut, 1958-59, I roff., pls. 62, 66. On the date, see]. Balty, "Les mosai:ques de Syrie au Ve siecle et leur repertoire," Byzantion, LIV, I984, 437-68. The forthcoming publication by P. Donceel-Voute, Les pavements des eglises anciennes de Ia Syrie et du Liban: Archeologie et Liturgie (Publications d'Histoire de 1' Art et d' Archeologie de l'Universite catholique de Louvain), Louvain-la-Neuve, is not available to me at the time of writing. r8. On the liturgical arrangements, see N. Duval, "Notes sur l'eglise de Kabr Hiram," Cahiers Archeologiques, xxvr, I977, 8I-I04, esp. 90ff. I9. Homilia XXVIII, 27; ed. Gallay andJourjon, r6o. 20. Hexaemeron, lines 1005-8; Migne, PG, XCII, col. I5II. 2I. See Grabar, 1962, II5-52, esp. I38, fig. I8. 22. Homilia IV, 5.24; ed. Schenkl, 75. Translation by Savage, 84-85. 23. For example, Tertullian, De baptismo, 12.7, and Romanos, Adoration of the Cross, strophe 7 (ed. Grosdidier de Matons, rv, 334). See also ]. Danielou, Les symboles chretiens primitifs, Paris, I96I, 66ff., and especially H. Rahner, "Antenna crucis III: Das Schiff aus Holz," Zeitschrift for katho/ische Theologie, LXVI, 1942, !96-227. 24. Justin Martyr, Apologia I, 55.3 (ed. A. W. F. Blunt, Cambridge, I9II, 83); Hippolytus, De Christo et antichristo, 59 (Migne, PG, x, col. 777); Petrus Chrysologus, Sermo VIII (Migne, PL, ur, col. 208). 25. See, however, Henri Stern's suggestion that the donor of the mosaic might have been a shipowner who wished to portray one ofhi.s craft, named "Peace" ("Sur quelques pavements paleo-chretiens du Liban," Cahiers Archeologiques, xv, 1965, 21-37, esp. 34). This seems to be special pleading for a literal reading of the motif.
91
28. On the donor portraits, see Grabar, 1962, 134. 29. Toynbee, 287. 30. On the peaceable nature of the animals m Paradise, see chapter vr, note 9· 3 I. See chapter r, notes 29-34. 32. For the eucharistic symbolism, compare the vine mosaic from the funerary chapel at Gerasa with its accompanying inscription, cited in chapter r, notes 3334· 33. Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, 1967; 1975; I978, esp. 33f., fig. 46. 34· On the date, see Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, 1975, 390; Kolarik, esp. 192f. 35· Kolarik, 193. 36. Compare, for example, K. M. D. Dunbabin, The Mosaics of Roman North Africa, Oxford, 1978, r 19, pl. 109 (mosaic of Dominus Iulius from Carthage); Hanfmann, II, 175, no. 461, fig. 20 (season sarcophagus in the Landgrafenmuseum, Kassel), and r65, no. 336, fig. 33 (season sarcophagus in the Conservatori Museum, Rome). Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, 1978, 34, however, now identifies the tree as a date palm. 37. Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, 1975, 389. 38. Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, 1975, refers to the fruit trees, the flowers, and the birds as a "paradis chretien." 39. See chapter II, notes 51-53. 40. Kolarik, 193. 41. De mundi creatione, Oratio V, 5; Migne, PG, LVI, col. 478.
42. Poematum de mosaicae historiae gestis, Migne, PL, LIX, col. 329. 43. Topographia christiana, 2. 82; ed. Wolska-Conus, 401. Ephrem Syrus also refers to the four rivers flowing from the fountain in Paradise; see Danielou, 451-52. 44· Epistula ad ]oannem Episcopum ]erosolymorum, 5; Migne, PG, XLIII, col. 386. 45. On allegorical portrayals of Paradise, see H. Maguire, "Adam and the Animals: Allegory and the Literal Sense in Early Christian Art," Dumbarton Oaks Papers, XLI, 1987. 46. On the meanings of the deer in Early Christian art, see Puech, 17-60. According to G. Cvetkovic-Toma.Sevic, the symmetrical image of the central wreath signifies the heavenly realm; see "Simbolika ranovizantijskih podnih mozaika," in RanohriSfanski mosaici u ]ugoslaviji (Materijali, XVIII), Belgrade, 1980, !87-204. 4 7. Sicut cervus desiderat ad fontes aquarum ita desiderat anima mea ad te deus; see E. Dyggve, History of Salonitan Christianity, Oslo, 1951, 32f., figs. II, 25-30.
92
NOTES TO PAGES 38-45
48. In Psalmum XLI, enarratio, I; Migne, PL, xxxvi, cols. 464-65. 49. M. Fendri, Basiliques chretiennes de Ia Skhira, Paris, I96I, 30ff., pl. I4.
so. Translation after L. Regnault, Les Sentences des Peres du Desert, IV, Solesmes, I98I, 230, no. 604. 51. In Psalmum XLI, enarratio, 3; Migne, PL, xxxvi, col. 465. 52. Breviarium in Psalmos, Migne, PL, XXVI, col. 949· 53. Homilia in Psalmum XXVIII, 6-7; Migne, PG, XXIX, cols. 300-301. 54· Hexaemeron, lines I245-92; Migne, PG, xcn, cols. I529-32. 55. Homilia XXVIII, 24; ed. Gallay andJourjon, I 52. The peacock's beauties were also described in the Hexameron of Jacob of San1g; see Jansma, 30.
56. See Pliny, Natura/is historia, Io.22, "Idem cauda annuis vicibus amissa cum foliis arborum, donee renascatur alia cum ftore, pudibundus ac maerens quaerit latebram"; ed. H. Rackham, III, London, I940, 320. See also De Bruyne, esp. 3 59. 57. De Civitate Dei, 21.4. 58. Ovid, Metamorphoses, IS, line 385. 59. Coins for the consecration of Faustina I, Faustina II, Julia Domna, and Paulina; see Toynbee, 252.
6o. For discussions of the problem of the symbolism of the peacock in Early Christian art, see H. Lother, Der Pjau in der altchristlichen Kunst (Studien tiber christliche Denkmaler, new series XVIII), Leipzig, I929, esp. 56-83; F. Cabrol and H. Leclercq, Dictionnaire d'archeologie chretienne et de liturgic, xm, I, Paris, I937, cols. I075-97; P. Lemerle, Philippes et Ia Macedoine Orientale, Paris, I945, 4I If. 6r. B. Brenk, Spatantike und frlihes Christentum (Propylaen Kunstgeschichte, Supplementband, I), Frankfurt, I977, I69, pl. I35· 62. G. Bovini, G. Valenti Zucchini, and M. Bucci, "Corpus" della scultura paleocristiana bizantina ed altomedioevale di Ravenna, II, I sarcofagi a figure e a carattere simbolico, Rome, I968, nos. 28a (sarcophagus in S. Apollinare in Classe), 29a (Museo Arcivescovile), 3IC (S. Apollinare in Classe), 35a and b (S. Francesco), and 45 (Museo Nazionale). 63. Notes I5-I7. 64. Ad Autolycum, 2. I6; ed. Grant, 52. Compare Tertullian, De baptismo, 3. 6 5. Hexameron, Hom ilia VII, 7. I 7 and I I. 3 5; ed. Schenk!, I 52, I69. For the church "founded upon the seas," see also Hexameron, Homilia IV, 1.6; ed. Schenk!, 62. Ambrose also links the creatures brought forth from the waters with the regeneration of baptism in his De sacramentis, 3· 1.3; ed. Botte, 72. 66. See above, note I6.
67. Commentarii in Genesim, Migne, PG, LXXXVII, I, col. 48. On the iconography of the living waters, see, in general, Drewer, I98I, esp. 542ff.
CHAPTER IV I. Translation after E. Sachau, Theodori Mopsuesteni .fragmenta syriaca, Leipzig, I869, ro; cf. Romans 8:I8-25. 2. The commentaries are found, in Latin translation, in Migne, PG, LXXXIX, cols. 8SI-I077· The citation of Pseudo-Dionysios is at col. 953. The work closes with a reference to the Monothelete controversy; see K.-H. Uthemann, ed., Anastasii Sinaitae sermones duo in constitutionem hominis secundum imaginem Dei necnon opuscula adversus monotheletas (Corpus Christianorum, Series Graeca, I2), Turnhout, I985, pp. cxli-cl, esp. cxlviii, where the earlier literature is cited. 3· Ad Autolycum, 2.I4; ed. Grant, 50. 4· Hexameron, Homilia IV, r. 3-6; ed. Schenk!, 6o62. Translation by Savage, 70.
s. Hexameron, Homilia IV, r.6. 6. Sermo CL VII, In vigilia Paschae I; Migne, PL, XXXIX, cols. 2055-56. 7· Hexaemeron, 6; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, col. 924. 8. Hexaemeron, 3; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, col. 886. 9. Hexaemeron, 6; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, cols. 924-
926. IO. Hexaemeron, 3; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, cols. 878882. I r. Ibid., col. 883. I2. Ibid., cols. 883-85. I3. Ibid., cols. 885-87. I4. H. De Lubac, Histoire et Esprit: L'intelligence de l'Ecriture d'apres Origene (Theologie, xvi), Paris, I950, I72. I 5. Strophe Is; ed. Grosdidier de Matons,
II,
222.
I6. The principal publication, giving earlier references, is Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, passim. I7. Ibid., I47· I8. See Grabar, I969, esp. 266£. I9. Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, I47· 20. Ibid., I2I. 2r. Ibid., I23-33. 22. Alfcildi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, I24, identify the contents of the basket as fruit; however, Stucchi, 40If., identifies the contents as bread. 23. See the passages quoted by H. W. Parke, "Castalia," Bulletin de Correspondance Hellenique, en,
NOTES TO PAGES 45-49 I978, I99-2I9, and now also T. E. Gregory, "Julian and the Last Oracle at Delphi," Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies, XXIV, I983, 355-66. 24. Levi, I, 329, and II, pl. 79· On the Castalia at Daphne, see also Alfoldi Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 39f.; Grabar, I968, 45-53, esp. 5If. 25. Hexaemeron, lines 983-9I; Migne, PG, XCII, cols. I509-IO. 26. Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, I46. 27. Stucchi, 403, and Guarducci, esp. 666, associate the building with churches; Dufrenne, esp. 247, terms the structure a synagogue; H. Stern, "Quelques remarques sur les mosiiques de Qasr el-Lebya," in Comptes rendus des seances de l'Academie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres, 1969, 27g-82, sees it as a closed temple, because the three doorways have curtains drawn across them. 28. R. G. Goodchild, "Helios on the Pharos," The Antiquaries]ournal, xu, I96I, 2I8-23. 29. Biebel, 328, pl. 67c. 30. See the remarks of]. Ward-Perkins: "More than half the panels are purely decorative in purpose, figures of birds and beasts and fish from the traditional mosaicist's repertory." ("A New Group of Sixth-Century Mosaics from Cyrenaica," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, XXXIV, I958, I83-92, esp. I89). H. Brandenburg, in his review of Alroldi-Rosenbaum and WardPerkins in Byzantinische Zeitschrifi, LXXVI, 1983, 7I-74, also takes a basically skeptical view toward symbolic interpretations of the bucolic and Nilotic elements of the floor. 3 I. On the workshop and its origins, see E. Alfoldi-Rosenbaum, 'Justinianic Mosaic Pavements of Cyrenaica," Bulletin d'Information de !'Association Internationale pour l'Etude de Ia Mosai"que Antique, VII, I978, 266f. 32. Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 99-I09, fig. 7, pls. I8-32. 33. Puech, esp. 3Iff. To the texts cited by Puech can be added the apothegm of Abbot Poemon, quoted above in chapter III, note so. On the interpretation of the motif at Qasr-el-Lebia, see Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 36f., and Guarducci, 676ff. 34· Puech, 38f. 35. G.-L. Feuille, "Une mosiique chretienne de l'Henchir Messaouda (region d'Angareb)," Cahiers Archeologiques, IV, I949, 9-IS, fig. 3. 36. Guarducci, 679f. 37. Guarducci alone, 679, identifies the eagle's victim as a goat. 38. Grabar, I962, esp. I38; D. Georgetti, "Il faro di Alessandria fra simbologia e realta: dall'epigramma di Posidippo ai mosaici di Gasr Elbia," Atti della Accademia Nazionale dei Lincei, Rendiconti, Classe di Science morali, storiche e filologiche, series 8, XXXII, I977, 2456I, esp. 254.
93
39. G. B. De Rossi, Bullettino di Archeologia Cristiana, vr, I868, IO-I2, fig. 2. Some grave covers show a lighthouse approached by a boat, as at Qasr-el-Lebia. See, for example, the third-century tomb of Firmia Victora in the Museo Pio Cristiano at the Vatican; The Vatican Collections: The Papacy and Art (exhibition catalogue, The Metropolitan Museum of Art), New York, I983, 225, no. I43· 40. Grabar, I968. 41. Grabar, 1962, 138. 42. Stucchi, 401. 43. Ward-Perkins (as in note 30), I89f.; Grabar, I969, 27I; ]. M. C. Toynbee, review of Lexikon der christlichen Ikonographie, ed. E. Kirschbaum, II, Rome, 1970, in ]ahrbuch for Antike und Christentum, XIII, I970, 98; Guarducci, 683; Dufrenne, 243, note I; AlfoldiRosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 35, note 99. 44. For the church of Elias, Mary, and Soreg, see Saller and Bagatti, I949, 270-74, pl. 45. The comparisons have been made by Grabar, I969, 270, note I, and by Alfoldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 35f. 45· ]. Robert and L. Robert, "Bulletin epigraphique," Revue des Etudes Grecques, LXXXII, 1969, 48 5. 46. T. B. Mitford, The Inscriptions ofKourion (American Philosophical Society Memoirs, LXXXIII), Philadelphia, I97I, 358f., no. 205. On the date, see A. H. S. Megaw, "Byzantine Architecture and Decoration in Cyprus: Metropolitan or Provincial?" Dumbarton Oaks Papers, xxvm, 1974, 59-88, esp. 59£., fig. 4· 47· Ed. Sachau (as in note I),
IO.
48. Kt(ou; appeared in later inscriptions with the meaning of Creation when the formula a:n:o xt(OE(J)\; XOOj.tOll was used in dating. See, for example, an epitaph of 813 from Kamara Dere on the Bay of Marmara; I. Sevcenko, "Inscription Commemorating Sisinnios, «Curator>> of Tzurulon (A.D. 8I3)," Byzantion, xxxv, I965, 564-74, esp. 567. 49. Oralio I, Migne, PG, LXXXV, col. 36.
so. Quaestiones ros.
in Genesim, r.zo; Migne, PG, LXXX,
col.
51. See, for example, the prayer by Patriarch Kallistos in the Euchologion, Venice, I885, 289f. See also Saller, I94I, 255f. 52. De opificio mundi, I7-20; translation by Colson and Whitaker, I, I4-I6. 53. Quoted in Theodoret of Cyrus, Quaestiones in Genesim, r.zo; Migne, PG, LXXX, col. I09. 54. Topographia christiana, 3.34; ed. Wolska-Conus, I, 471. See also the discussion of the sixth day in the Hexameron of Jacob of San1g; Jansma, 32f. 55. Ed. Maas and Trypanis, 462-71. 56. E. Catafygiotou-Topping, "On Earthquakes and Fires: Romanos' Encomium to Justinian," Byzantinische Zeitschrifl, LXXI, I978, 22-35·
94
NOTES TO PAGES 49-54
57. '0 x:tL
compare the inscriptions on the arches of the south arcade of the nave of the church at I' djaz (Syria), which dates to the late fourth or early fifth century: Euxe <'moa-roArov, :rtQO<)>l]tWV' (.tUQtUQWV U:rtEQ [a ]vavffil[(JfOJ\; t~\; <J1.Jvay]roy~£ XUL Aaou, and [Eu] XE a:n:oatoA.rov [u:n:ee] avavai)a£ffi\; x[ aL] ~Oll\;tl(.tWV (:rt)av-rrov. W. K. Prentice, Syria, Publications ofthe Princeton University Archaeological Expeditions to Syria in 1904-5 and 1909, Division III, Section B, Leyden, I922, 88ff.; L. Jalabert and R. Mouterde, Inscriptions grecques et latines de Ia Syrie, III, part I, Paris, I950, 443f. 67. See Grabar, I969, 268; AlfOldi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 34f., I47· A personification of Ananeosis appeared together with Ktisis, in a pagan context, on the pavement of a villa at Daphne dating to the Constantinian period; see F. Baratte, Catalogue des mosai"ques romaines et paleochretiennes du Musee du Louvre, Paris, I978, 99- rr 8, fig. roo. 68. See above, notes 5, IO, and I r. 69. The figure of Ananeosis is interpreted as alluding both to the renewal of the town and to baptism, symbolized by the four Rivers of Paradise, m Alfcildi-Rosenbaum and Ward-Perkins, 37.
70. See above, note I 3. 71. Compare also the passage on the Sun of Justice and the light of baptism in the sixth book of the commentaries; see above, note 9. 72. Guarducci, 673f, goes so far as to relate the naked statue of Helios to Christ, but it is preferable to read it simply as an identifying feature of the lighthouse.
73. See above, note 9. 74. Expositio Evangelii secundum Lucam, 8. 56; Ambrosii Mediolanensis Opera, part 4 (Corpus christianorum, Series Latina, XIV), 318-I9. 75. De sacramentis, 4. 7; ed. Botte, 8o. 76. In Mattheum, 24.28; S. Hieronymi Presbyteri opera, part I, 7 (Corpus christianorum, Series Latina, LXXVII), 229. 77. In Epistulam I ad Corinthios Homilia XXIV, 3; Migne, PG, LXI, col. 203. 78. Another interpretation of the subject occasionally encountered in texts is that the eagle represents Christ who takes the Christian captive to the heavens; see the fifth-century sermon on the Ascension by Maximus of Turin, Homilia LX, Migne, PL, LVII, cols. 369-70. But this interpretation fits less well with the principal theme of the remainder of the floor at Qasr-el-Lebia (the gathering of the congregations), and it does not explain why the deer is so evidently dead. 79. EL£ avav£romv 'ljJuxwv xaL aro(.t
NOTES TO PAGES 54-61 88. De laudibus Constantini, I r. 14; ed. Heikel, 228.
I6. Hexaemeron, 6; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, col. 928.
89. Homilia XXVIII, 6; ed. Gallay andJourjon, 112.
17. Hexaemeron, 6; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, col. 925.
go. De aedificiis, 6.2. 14-23, ed. Dewing and Downey, VII, 368-70; cited by Dufrenne, 244ff., who takes Ananeosis to refer to the renaissance of the region. gr. See above, notes 55-56.
92. Alfoldi-Rosenbaum (as in note 3 1), 266-67. 93. Grabar, 1968, 49f.; Guarducci, 66of. 94· Grabar, 1968, 50. 95. E. Cruikshank Dodd, Byzantine Silver Treasures (Monographien der Abegg-Stiftung Bern, 1x), Bern, 1973, 26. On the inscription, seeM. M. Mango, Silver from Early Byzantium: The Kaper Koraon and Related Treasures (exhibition catalogue, Walters Art Gallery), Baltimore, 1986, 234f., no. 64. For the same wordplay in stone inscriptions, see A. Ovadiah, "Greek Inscriptions in Deir Rumi;Ian, Sinai," Dumbarton Oaks Papers, XXXIX, 1985, 78, note 8. g6. Grosdidier de Matons, I, I5.
97· On the "superposition de sens," see also Dufrenne, 24 7.
CHAPTER V I. Ad Autolycum, 2. I6; translation by Grant, 52. 2. Ad Autolycum, 2. I7; translation by Grant, 54· 3. De resurrectione carnis, 52; ed. A. Kroymann (Corpus scriptorum ecclesiasticorum latinorum, XLVII), Vienna, Igo6, I08. 4. Homilia I in Genesim, II; ed. Doutreleau, 52. 5· Homilia I, 8; ed. Doutreleau, 44-46. 6. Ibid. 7· Homilia I, n; ed. Doutreleau, 52. 8. Homilia I,
10;
ed. Doutreleau, 48.
g. Commentarii in Genesim, 44-45; ed. P. Nautin and L. Doutreleau, Didyme l'Aveugle, Sur Ia Genese (Sources chretiennes, ccxxxm), Paris, I976, II8. 10. Commentarii in Genesim, 46; ed. Nautin and Doutreleau (as in note 9), I22.
II. Commentarii in Genesim, SI-52; ed. Nautin and Doutreleau, I34· I2. Commentarii in Genesim, 45; ed. Nautin and Doutreleau, I20. IJ. In mundi creationem, Oratio IV, 2; Migne, PG, LVI, cols. 458-59. I4. In Leviticum, Praefatio; Migne, PG, XCIII, col. 790. IS. Hexaemeron, 6; Migne, PG, LXXXIX, cols. 925-27.
III,
95
18. See above, chapter II, notes I and I4, and chapter note 5.
I9. Hexameron, Homilia IX, 2.4; ed. Schenk!, 206. Translation by Savage, 229. 20. For an example of this approach, see P. B. Bagatti, "U ccelli nei pavimenti musivi delle cappelle funerarie palestinesi," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, XXIX, 1953, 207-14. 21. N. Duval and J.-P. Caillet, "Khan Khalde (ou Khalde III), les fouilles de Roger Saidah ... , " Archeologie au Levant: Recueil a Ia memoire de Roger Saidah, Paris, I982, JII-94, esp. 327f., 335f., figs. IO, 20, 2!. 22. M.-T. and P. Canivet, "La mosai:que d'Adam dans l'eglise syrienne de Hiiarte (Ve S.)," Cahiers Archeologiques, xxrv, 1975, 49-70, fig. 3; idem, "I complessi cristiani del IV e del V secolo a Hiiarte (Siria settentrionale), Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, LVI, Ig8o, I47-72, esp. I6o. 23. Laudatio Marciani I, p-33; ed. Foerster and Richsteig, I0-1 I. Translation by Mango, 62. 24. Archdeacon Owsepian, "Mosaik mit armenischer Inschrift im Norden Jerusalems," in Zeitschrift des Deutschen Paliistina- Vereins, XVIII, 1895, 88-go, pl. I. 25. See especially M. Avi-Yonah, "Une ecole de mosai:que a Gaza au sixieme siecle," in La Mosai'que grew-romaine, II, Paris, I975, 377-83, esp. 379; E. Kitzinger, Byzantine Art in the Making, Cambridge, Massachusetts, I977, 89, fig. 164. 26. The vase is identified as a chalice and one of the baskets is said to contain bread by Evans, 2I7. However, the contents of both baskets are identified as fruits by M. Avi-Yonah, "Mosaic Pavements in Palestine," Quarterly of the Department of Antiquities in Palestine, II, 1933, 171. 27. On the caged bird in this mosaic, see 0. Hjort, "L'oiseau dans la cage: Exemples medievaux a Rome," Cahiers Archeologiques, XVIII, 1968, 21-32, esp. 3 I. 28. C. Dauphin, "Byzantine Pattern Books: A Reexamination of the Problem in the Light of the 'Inhabited Scroll,'" Art History, I, no. 4, I978, 400-423, esp. 409. 29. Hjort (as in note 27), 31; B. Narkiss, Armenian Art Treasures ofjerusalem, Jerusalem, 1979, 28. 30. Evans, esp. 218f. Another example of a bird rinceau from a commemorative context is a mosaic found in a Byzantine church at Sidi Abich in Tunisia. In this case the scrolls of the vine were placed in front of an apse that apparently enclosed an inscription on the floor in memory of a deceased; see Gauckler, 85, and D. Parrish, "The Mosaic of Theodoulos from Sousse (Tunisia)," Antiquites Africaines, XVI, 1980, 229-39, esp. 233f., fig. 3· A drawing of the mosaic floors of the
96
NOTES TO PAGES 61-65
church at Sidi Abich can be found in De Lasteyrie, I I I, fig. 9I (for this last reference I am indebted to Professor Margaret Alexander). 3 I. J. B. Ward-Perkins and R. G. Goodchild, "The Christian Antiquities of Tripolitania," Archaeologia, xcv, 1953, r-82, esp. 12ff.; Aurigemma, 27-29, pis. I9-42. 32. De Aedificiis, 6.4.I3; ed. Dewing and Downey, VII, 376. 33. P. Ward, Sabratha: A Guidefor Visitors, Harrow, I970, 36. 34· There is a brief discussion of the iconography by Stern, 319. 35. Ward-Perkins and Goodchild (as in note 3I), 14, 6!. 36. Aurigemma, pls. 38-39. The trees have reddishbrown trunks and green branches. 37. Ibid., pls. 35-3738. Cf. A. Grabar, "Une theme de l'iconographie chretienne: L' oiseau dans la cage," Cahiers Archeologiques, xvr, I966, 9-16, esp. IO, who terms the mosaic "une composition symbolique de la Terre." 39. The rings can be found, for example, in the vine rinceaux from Ma'on and Shellal; seeM. Avi-Yonah, "The Ancient Synagogue of Ma'on (Nirim): The Mosaic Pavement," Bulletin of the Louis M. Rabinowitz Fund for the Exploration of Ancient Synagogues, III, I960, 25-35, pls. I-8; and A. D. Trendall, The Shellal Mosaic, Canberra, I973, pls. 2, 4· Another parallel might be the golden rings around the floral candelabra that divide the procession of crown-bearing apostles in the dome mosaic of the Orthodox Baptistery at Ravenna; see Deichmann, I958, pls. 42-53. 40. See above, note 3. 41. See above, notes 5, 6, and 8.
51. Hexaemeron, lines III7-22; Migne, PG, XCII, col. I520. 52. Hexameron, Homilia VIII, 23. 79-80; ed. Schenk!, I97-98. Translation by Savage, 220. 53· The occurrences of the phoenix in classical and Early Christian art have been collected by Van den Broek, 425-57, pis. 4-38. 54., Ibid., 447, pl. 22; Fabrizio Bisconti, "Aspetti e significati del simbolo della fenice nella letteratura e nell'arte del Cristianesimo primitivo," Vetera Christianarum, XVI, I979, 2I-40, esp. 29f., fig. 2. 55. Van den Broek, 388, 454, pl. 34·
s6. Ibid., 45 I, pl. 29. 57. A comparable composition was presented by a wall painting in the Chapel of St. Felicitas in Rome. Here a group containing Christ, St. Felicitas, and her seven martyred sons was accompanied by a phoenix in a palm tree; see Van den Broek, 454, pl. 35. 58. Ibid., 427-37, pls. 6-8. 59· Ibid., 245, 427f., pl. 6. 60. Ibid., 437, pl. 8. 6!. Ibid., usff., 4I7. 62. Ibid., IOS, 428, pl. 6. 63. Ibid., 434-36, pl. 8. 64. Ibid., 444, pl. I7. 65. Secunda Physiologi redactio, IO; ed. Sbordone (as in note so), 200. 66. Book I, lines 349-56; translation by Cameron, 47· 67. Ibid., 148. 68. De aedificiis, 6.4.I2-I3; translation by Dewing and Downey, VII, 376.
42. See above, notes IO, IS, and I7. 43. Hexameron, Homilia VIII, 23.79-80; ed. Schenk!, I97-98. Translation by Savage, 220. 44· Vitae patrum, 14.4; Migne, PL, LXXI, col. 1070. 45· Strophe I; ed. Grosdidier de Matons,
so. Secunda Physiologi redactio, IO; ed. F. Sbordone, Milan, I936, 203-4. See Van den Broek, I6o.
III,
328.
46. See chapter I, note 48. 47· There is a fresco at Bawit depicting an eagle, above which are three wreaths, each enclosing an Alpha and an Omega. A. Grabar has interpreted these motifs as a portrayal of the Trinity in Christian Iconography: A Study of its Origins, London, I969, II2-I3, fig. 269. 48. See chapter I, note 39· 49· The phoenix does not occur, for example, in the closest stylistic relatives of the Sabratha mosaic, the floor at Jerusalem (fig. 70), the incomplete mosaic at Shellal (Trendall, as in note 39, pl. 2), and the floor at Ma'on (Avi-Yonah, as in note 39, fig. I3).
69. Toynbee, 25If.; G. Daltrop, U. Hausmann, and M. Wegner, Das Rijmische Herrscherbild, II, I, Die Flavier, Berlin, I966, 58f., pl. 48 (bust of Julia Titi). 70. P. W. Lehmann, "Theodosius or Justinian? A Renaissance Drawing of a Byzantine Rider," The Art Bulletin, XLI, I959, 39-57, esp. 42, fig. 8. 71. A crown surmounted by peacock feathers is worn by the imperial rider depicted in the fifteenthcentury drawing on folio I44v. of MS. 35 in the Budapest University Library. However, the date of the headpiece depicted in this portrayal of a Byzantine ruler cannot be ascertained with precision; see Lehmann (as in note 70), fig. I, and the letter by C. Mango, The Art Bulletin, XLI, I959, 35I-s6. 72. Strophe I8; ed. Maas and Trypanis, 505. 73. K. A. C. Creswell, Early Muslim Architecture, 2nd ed., I, I, Oxford, I969, pls. I7-22.
NOTES TO PAGES 65-71 74. 0. Grabar, "The Umayyad Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem," Ars Orienta/is, III, I959, 33-62, esp. 47-52, pl. 3· 75· Augustine, Soliloquia, I.I4.24 (Migne, PL, XXXII, col. 882); John Climacus, Scala paradisi, step 27 (Migne, PG, LXXXVIII, col. I I09). On the symbolism of the caged bird in Early Christian art, see especially the articles by Grabar (as in note 38) and by Hjort (as in note 27). 76. "Ambrose," Sermo XL VI, sf. (Migne, PL, XVII, col. 695); Jerome, In Isaiam, 66.13 (Migne, PL, xxrv, col. 662).
97
CHAPTER VI I. De opificio mundi, 38; translation by Colson and Whitaker, I, 28. 2. De opificio mundi, 84-86; translation by Colson and Whitaker, I, 68-70. 3. A. Smets and M. Van Esbroeck, Basile de Cesaree, Sur l'origine de /'Homme (Sources chretiennes, cLx), Paris, 1970, 13-I7. 4· In verba: "Faciamus hominem," 17; ed. Smets and Van Esbroeck (as in note 3), 208.
77. Maximus ofTurin, Homilia LX; Migne, PL, LVII, cols. 369-70. The eagle was also identified with Christ in Syriac and Armenian sources; see Morris, 20, note m, and Evans, 219.
5· In verba: "Faciamus hominem," 14; ed. Smets and Van Esbroeck, 200-202.
78. Augustine, Enarratio in Psalmum CII, 9; Migne, PL, XXXVII, cols. I323-24.
7. In Genesim, Homilia IX; Migne, PG, LIII, col. 77.
79. See the texts of Ambrose, Jerome, John Chrysostom, and Anastasios cited in chapter rv, notes 73-77. So. Methodius, De cruce, I (Migne, PG, XVIII, col. 400); Morris, 165. 8 I. Epigrammata, IO. I9. 82. Examples of the emperor as Jupiter accompanied by an eagle include the "Gemma Augustea" in Vienna and two marble statues of Claudius in the Vatican and at Lepcis Magna; see Toynbee, 241. 83. For example, in the relief of the arch of Titus (MacCormack, roo), on the base of the column of Antoninus Pius (Toynbee, 242), on coins commemorating the consecrations of emperors (MacCormack, 99ff.), and on imperial cameos (MacCormack, roo and 3I7, note 30; Toynbee, 242). 84. See, especially, the eagle with outspread wings that overshadows Galerius triumphant in battle on his arch in Thessaloniki; MacCormack, I74, pl. IO. On diptychs of Anastasios, dating to 5I7, the consul carries a scepter crowned by an eagle holding a medallion portrait of the emperor between its wings; see Vol bach, 35-37, nos. 17-21, pis. 8-9. As late as the reign of Tiberius II (578-82), an eagle crowns the scepter held by the emperor on·the coinage; see Bellinger, 266-84, pis. 60-64. 85. Such an interpretation is suggested by Stern, 319, and by Aurigemma, 28. , 86. For the caged bird interpreted as a decoy, see Saller and Bagatti, 1949, 237f.; Avi-Yonah (as in note 25), 382. 87. On the potential meanings of the vine itself, see the discussions of the mosaics in the church of SS. Cos mas and Damian at Gerasa and in the Large Basilica at Heraklea in chapter III.
6. De hominis opificio, 7; Migne, PG, xuv, cols. I40-44· 8. Ibid. 9- Ibid., col. 79· ro. Ibid., cols. 79-80. II. Saller and Bagatti, I949, 38-39, 49-55, fig. 4, pis. 8-13; M. Piccirillo, I mosaici di Giordania dal I al VIII secolo D.C., Rome, I982, I7. 12. S. J. Saller, "The Works of Bishop John of Madaba in the Light of Recent Discoveries," Studii Biblici Franciscani Liber Annuus, xrx, I969, 145-74. I 3. 'EJtL 1:(ou) omw( 't:cn;ou) x( ai) -fre[ 0 ]cplAEO(nhou) £max6nou 'Iwavv(ou) av[eva.O-!h] x(ai) E]1:EA[e]tffi-!h] [o] ay( LO£) I 1:0l't0£• an( ou )on 'Iwavv( ou) JtQ(E)a~( U't:EQOU) E't:EA[ e]tffi-!h] ~T]VL Auyoom;( ou) tv[ 6( LX't:LOOVO£ ... u]JtEQ aw't:T]QLU£ I x( ai) ngoocpogii£ 't:WV JtQOaEVEYxOVtWV x( al) ~EAAOV't:WV JtQOOEVEYX[ E)LV. For the text and its translation, see Saller and Bagatti, I949, I73ff. I4. 'Y JtEQ OW't:TJQL I a£ x( al) ngoocpogii£ I 1:ciiv oouA.wv a( ou) .... Saller and Bagatti, I949, 176. For the iconography of the frame, see Grabar, 1984, r I9. 15. Saller and Bagatti, I949, 67-74, fig. 8, pis. 22-28. I6. Ibid., I47-58; Saller (as in note I2), I63; Piccirillo (as in note II), 14-15. I7. "AyLE ra.OgyLE JtgOaO[e];m I Tt)v JtQOacpogav x(al) tOV xa I ~atov t[ciiv] av-frg[w]n[wv] I Tt)[£] x[w]~TJ[£] taUtTJ(£). Saller and Bagatti, I949, I40-58. r8. On the west side there was a youth holding a cornucopia of fruits (autumn?) and a female bust flanked by olive twigs (winter?). On the east side there was a bust flanked by florets (spring?) and another female bust with objects identified by Bagatti as ears of grain in her hair (summer?). Bagatti, in Saller and Bagatti, 1949, 72, identifies the bust with the florets as winter, the one with the olive twigs as autumn, and the youth with the cornucopia as spring.
98
NOTES TO PAGES 71-75
I9. On the iconography of the floors, see Grabar, I962, esp. II9ff.; idem, 1979, 52f.; B. Bagatti, "11 significato dei musaici della scuola di Madaba (Transgiordania)," Rivista di Archeologia Cristiana, XXXIII, I957, 139-60, esp. 147ff.; Claudine Dauphin, "Symbolic or Decorative? The Inhabited Scroll as a Means of Studying Some Early Byzantine Mentalities," Byzantion, XLVIII, I978, 10-34, esp. 13f. As Dauphin points out, Grabar's interpretation of the mosaics as depictions of the peopled Vineyard of the Lord does not accord with the scrolls framing the motifs, which are not vines, but acanthus. 20. Dauphin (as in note 19), 31. 21. Grabar, I962, II9ff.; idem, I979, 52f. On the decoration of late Roman houses and villas as an expression oflanded proprietorship, see now Schneider, passim. 22. G. W. H. Lampe, A Patristic Greek Lexikon, Oxford, I96I, II84.
church, see The Life of St. Nicholas of Sion, 45, ed. and trans. I. Sevcenke> and N. P. Sevcenko, Brookline, Mass., I984, 76. 31. Saller and Bagatti, 1949, 143. 32. Another mosaic that juxtaposes scenes ofhunting with domesticated animals, but without the personification of Earth, has been discovered in the baptistery complex restored in 530/r at Siyagha (Mount Nebo); seeM. Piccirillo, "New Discoveries on Mount Nebo," Annual of the Department of Antiquities, Amman, XXI, I976; 55-59, pls. 14-16; and idem, "Campagna archeologica nella basilica di Mose Profeta sui Monte NeboSiyagha," Studii Biblici Franciscani Liber Annuus, xxvi, I976, 28I-3I8.
CHAPTER VII
23. Ibid.; Saller and Bagatti, I949, 145· 24. For the winepress, see Grabar, 1962, 122. The baskets held out by the offerers could also have had eucharistic connotations; see Saller and Bagatti, I949, I I I.
25. Saller and Bagatti, I949, 67, I07, pls. 22, 2 and 23, I. The sacrifice of Isaac was depicted in the sanctuaries of S. Vitale at Ravenna (sixth-century wall mosaic) and of the basilica at Mount Sinai (seventhcentury painting in encaustic); see Deichmann, I958, pl. 327, and Forsyth and Weitzmann, pl. IJO. On the typology, see Deichmann, 1976, 155-59. The motif of the sheep in front of a tree also occurs in a floor of the Chapel of Suaitha at Madeba. The mosaic, which possibly decorated the presbytery of the chapel, is now in the Archaeological Museum at Madeba; see Saller and Bagatti, 1949, 236f., and Piccirillo (as in note II), 20. 26. G. Galavaris, Bread and the Liturgy: The Symbolism of Early Christian and Byzantine Bread Stamps, Madison, I970, 46f. 27. There is an example in the Menil Foundation Collection, Houston, which will be no. F 105 in the forthcoming catalogue by Gary Vikan, to whom I owe the information about this stamp, as well as the opportunity to preview his catalogue entry. 28. Galavaris (as in note 26), 46. 29. This will be argued in G. Vikan's forthcoming catalogue of the Menil Foundation Collection. 30. Evidence for the donation of produce toward the completion of a church comes from a Syriac inscription of 507 referring to a church at Khirbat Hasan: "There was spent on it drachmas eighty and five; (of) beans, wheat, and lentils measures (pecks) four hundred and thirty besides the first outlay"; see E. L. Sukenik, The Ancient Synagogue of Beth Alpha, Jerusalem, 1932, 46. For the provision of bread to craftsmen working on a
r. Anthologia Palatina, 9. 778; ed. and trans. A. S. F. Gow and D. L. Page, The Greek Anthology: The Garland of Philip, I, Cambridge, 1968, 300, and II, 333f. 2. De laudibus Constantini, 1.3-5 and 6.6-8; ed. Heikel, 197-98, 207-9. 3. De laudibus Constantini, r.6; ed. Heikel, 198-99. Translation by Drake, 85. 4· Migne, PG, XCII, cols. 1425-I578. 5· Hexaemeron, lines 1838-61; Migne, PG, XCII, cols. 1574-76. 6. Chronographia, Migne, PG, CVIII, col. 673. 7- H. P. Laubscher, Der Reliefschmuck des Galeriusbogens in Thessaloniki (Deutsches Archaologisches Institut, Archaologische Forschungen, I), Berlin, 1975, 71-73, pl. 598. Age of Spirituality, Late Antique and Early Christian Art, Third to Seventh Century, ed. K. Weitzmann (exhibition catalogue, The Metropolitan Museum of Art), New York, I979, 74-76. See also MacCormack, 2I9, and Schneider, 35f. with I65 (citations of texts associating the bounty of nature with the ruler's largess).
9. The text was published by L. Sternbach, "Beitrage zur Kunstgeschichte," ]ahreshefte des Osterreichischen Archiiologischen Institutes in Wien, v, 1902, Beiblatt, cols. 65-94, esp. cols. 74-79. On the use of the Great Palace in the twelfth century, seeP. Magdalino, "Manuel Komnenos and the Great Palace," Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies, IV, 1978, IOI-14. IO. J. F. Flanagan, "The Figured Silks," in The Relics of Saint Cuthbert, ed. C. F. Battiscombe, Oxford, I956, 484-525, esp. 505ff.' fig. I. I I.
Levi,
I,
36 5, and
II,
pl. 90 c-d.
I2. See chapter III, note 17.
NOTES TO PAGES 75-79 I 3. Another parallel to the mosalC described by Constantine Manasses is the "Striding Lion" mosaic from Antioch, which dates to the turn of the fifth and the sixth centuries. Here various objects, such as piles of fruit, birds (including a cock), and fish are arranged in a lozenge grid around a central focus, in this case a lion; see Levi, I, pi-23, and II, pl. 74· For the combination of live creatures with the detritus from a meal, such as the bird and fish bones described by Constantine Manasses, we may compare the nave pavement of the Byzantine church at Sidi Abich in Tunisia, where portrayals of various animals, including crustacea, doves, peacocks, and lambs, were apparently bordered by a frieze showing sweepings from a meal. See Gauckler, 84-86; De Lasteyrie, III, fig. 91. I4. See above, note
I.
I5. Age of Spirituality (as in note 8), 33I-35· I6. Compare their headdresses with those worn by the figures portrayed on the silver plate in Istanbul that depicts a personification of India: D. Talbot Rice, The Art of Byzantium, London, I959, 291, 297, pis. 19, 43; S. Hiller, "Divino sensu agnoscere: Zur Deutung des Mosaikbodens im Peristyl des Grossen Palastes zu Konstantinopel," Kairos, new series, XI, 1969, 275-305, esp. 28I. I7. On Earth, see MacCormack, 219. On the solar imagery linking Christ and the emperor, see A. Cameron, "Corippus' Poem on Justin II: A Terminus of Antique Art?" Annali della Scuola Normale Superiore di Pisa, 3rd series, v, Pisa, I975, I29-65, esp. I4 7f. Reprinted in idem, Continuity and Change in Sixth-Century Byzantium, London, I98I, no. vr. r8. Deichmann, I969, 234-56; idem, I976, I4I-95; idem, 1958, pis. 285-375. 19. A detailed description of the vault mosaics can be found in ]. Kurth, Die Wandmosaiken von Ravenna, Munich, 1905, 94-98. 20. See chapter
III,
note 54·
21. F. Cumont, Recherches sur le symbolisme fimeraire des Romains, Paris, I942, 503. Another parallel from Roman sculpture is provided by a fragment of an early Antonine architectural frieze in Rome that displays a portrait bust in a medallion framed by linked dolphins and flanked by tritons; seeP. Gusman, L'art decoratif de Rome de Ia .fin de Ia republique au IVe siecle, III, Paris, I9I4, pl. I43· 22. K. Lehmann, "The Dome of Heaven," The Art Bulletin, XXVII, I945, I-27, esp. 15; Nordstrom, 93f.; Deichmann, 1976, r63f.; T. F. Mathews, "Cracks in Lehmann's «Dome of Heaven))," Source, I, no. 3, I982, I2-I6, esp. I6.
99
Mosaiken von S. Vitale in Ravenna?" Frnhmittelalterliche Studien, XVI, I982, I9-24, esp. 23. 25. Part I, lines 35-37; ed. Friedlander, I37· See also the texts by Maximus of Turin and Jerome cited in chapter II, notes 86-87. 26. Deichmann, I976, I64. 27. A. Grabar, L'empereur dans /'art byzantin, Paris, I936, 204. 28. Deichmann, 1976, I79· 29. Ibid., 1958, pl. 121. 30. De aedificiis, r. IO. I6- 19; ed. Dewing and Downey, VII, 84-86. For a reconstruction of the Chalke and its mosaics, see C. Mango, The Brazen House: A Study of the Vestibule of the Imperial Palace ofConstantinople (Arkaeologisk-kunsthistoriske Meddelelser, Det Kongelige Danske Videnskabernes Selskab, IV, no. 4), I959, esp. 30-34. 3 r. See Deichmann, Nordstrom, 92f.
r 976,
I 6 5, and, especially,
32. E. E. Rice, The Grand Procession of Ptolemy Philadelphus, Oxford, I983, 204-8. I am indebted to Professor Alfred Frazer for this reference. 33. The figure of Earth holding a cornucopia had also appeared on coins of Antoninus Pius; see MacCormack, 2I9. 34. See chapter v, notes 8I-84. 35. For example, crossed cornucopias decorate certain third-century season sarcophagi; see Hanfmann, II, I I, fig. 29 (sarcophagus of Prosenes, Rome), and I76, no. 467, fig. 42 (Villa Doria-Panfili). 36. See chapters IV, notes 73-78, and v, notes 76-80. 37. G. M. A. Richter, The Engraved Gems of the Greeks, Etruscans and Romans, II, London, 197I, I08, fig. 5I6; Nordstrom, 92. 38. Richter (as in note 37), II, I03, fig. 498 (Cabinet des Medailles, Paris); G. Bruns, Staatskameen des 4· ]ahrhunderts nach Christi Geburt (Winckelmannsprogramm der archaologischen Gesellschaft zu Berlin, Civ), I948, 27, fig. 24 (Nancy). 39. M. Wegner, Das Romische Herrscherbild, II, 4, Die Herrscherbildnisse in antoninischer Zeit, Berlin, 1939, 266, pl. 53. 40. Descriptio ecclesiae Sanctae Sophiae, lines I-I6; ed. Friedlander, 227.
notes 68-71.
41. Descriptio ecclesiae Sanctae Sophiae, lines 54-55; ed. Friedlander, 228. On this introduction, see now M. Whitby, "The Occasion of Paul the Silentiary's Ekphrasis of St. Sophia," Classical Quarterly, new series, xxxv, 1985, 215-28.
24. On the identification of the river scenes with the Rivers of Paradise, seeP. Toesca, San Vitale ofRavenna: The Mosaics, London, 1954, 22, and B. Brenk, "Welchen Text illustrieren die Evangelisten in den
42. De aedificiis, I.I.2I; translation by Dewing and Downey, VII, IO. Compare also the last verse of the anonymous hymn on the second dedication of St. Sophia (A.D. 562): "You, Savior, born from a Virgin,
23. See chapter
II,
roo
NOTES TO PAGES 79-84
carefully guard this house until the end of the world .... Repulse heresies, and shatter the strength of the barbarians." Ed. C. A. Trypanis, Fourteen Early Byzantine Cantica (Wiener byzantinische Studien, v), Vienna, 1968, 147.
cus-Christus-Sol: Nuove ipotesi sui mausolea," Arheoloski Vestnik, xxrrr, 1972, 83-157, esp. 89.
43. See A. Cameron, "The Artistic Patronage of Justin II," Byzantion, L, 1980, 62-84, esp. 64.
so. On the relationship between the emperor's portrait and the Christ in the apse, see also 0. G. von Simson, Sacred Fortress: Byzantine Art and Statecraft in Ravenna, Chicago, 1948, 36.
44· In laudem Iustini Augusti Minoris, book II, line 150; ed. Cameron, 52. For discussions of this passage, see ibid., 161f., and H. P. L'Orange, Studies on the
48. Strophe 13; ed. Maas and Trypanis, 246. 49. Strophe 18; ed. Maas and Trypanis, 505.
Iconography of Cosmic Kingship in the Ancient World, Oslo, 1953, 88, 109. Corippus also links the emperor
with Christ through the image of the Good Shepherd; book IV, lines I96-205 (ed. Cameron, 79). And see George of Pisidia's use of the solar image to compare Hera eli us to the sun in heaven; see above, note 5. 45· See chapter I, note 37. 46. "Christ gave earthly lords power over all: He is omnipotent, and the earthly king is the image of the omnipotent." In laud em Iustini Augusti Minoris, book II, lines 427-28; translation by Cameron, 102, with discussion on I78f. 47. On rulers imitating Christ through an association with the twelve apostles, see M. Fagiolo, "Theodori-
CONCLUSION r. On the restraining of "qualities that might detain the eye," seeN. Bryson, Word and Image: French Painting of the Ancien Regime, Cambridge, 1981, esp. 3.
2. See chapter
I,
note 8. See also Grabar, 1979, 53·
3· De imaginibus oratio I, Migne, PG,
XCIV,
col. 1252.
4. Antirrheticus III, Migne, PG, c, col. 464f.; the tex is discussed by Grabar, 1984, 197-99.
s.
Antirrheticus III, Migne, PG, c, col. 429.
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BLANK PAGE
Index
Achilles, shield of, 88 n. 19 acrostic, 55 Adam, 69, 72 Agnes, 63 Aion, 64 Akathistos, 8-9, 87 n. 44 Alcinous, orchard of, 7 Alexandria, lighthouse, 46, 5 I altar, 38, 45, 52, 62, 71, 83 Ambrose, 3 I, 34, 40, 41-42, 50-52, 54, 59, 62-63, 91 n. ro, 92 n. 65 Ananeosis, 27, 45-46, 50-52, 54-55, 64, 82, 94 n. 66 Anastasios, author of Hexaemeron, 29, 41-44, 51-53, 59, 62 Anastasios, diptychs of, 97 n. 84 Anastasios Sinaites, 41 Ancona, Christian tomb, 9-ro; fig. 2
animals: hierarchy of, 57-59; man's dominion over, 67-72; tame before the fall, 69; wild and domestic, 32, 59, 6S-72, 9S n. 32 ant, 19, 32, 39 antanaklasis, I I Antioch, mosaics from, 20, 27, 45, 50, 99n. 13; figs. S-9, 22, 66
Apamea, cathedral, 14 Aphrodite, 13, 21 Apocalypse, 7S; four Beasts of, 90n. 72 Apollo, 20 apostles, 12-13, 62, 77; "senate" of Christ, So apotheosis, of emperors, 66, 79; of empresses, 39 apple, 75; tree, 7, 22, 36 Arians, So Armenians, 6o-6r arrows, 6S, 70, 72 Asia, personification of, 20 Athanasius of Alexandria, S-9 Athens, Asklepieion, 94 n. 64 Augustine, Saint, 27, 31, 3S-39, 41, 42, 53, 65 Avitus, 23, 25-26, 28, 37
baptism, 19-20, 24, 27-2S, 33, 3840, 42-43, 47, 51, 57-59, 92n. 65, 94n. 69 Barberini Diptych, 75-76; fig. S6 Basil the Great, 25, 27, 31-35, 3839, 42, 59, 60, 6S
Basil of Seleucia, 48 Bawit, fresco of eagle, 96 n. 47 bear, 28, 35, 45, 70, 72 bee, 19, 68 Belisarius, 78 Bern, Abegg-Stiftung, Phela paten, 55; fig. 67 Bethlehem, 12, 42, 44 bird cage, 6r, 65-66 bird rinceau. See vine boar, 2S, 33, 70 boat, S, 19, 29, 33-34, 46-47, 49, 51, S2, 91n. 25 brea~ 43, 45, 51, 6~ 69, 70, 98n. 30; of Communion, 71 Budapest, University Library, MS. 3 5 (drawing of imperial rider), 96n. 71 bull, 36, 45, 68, 70, 72 Butrinto, baptistery, 7, 40, 82, 86 n. 15; fig. I
caged bird, 6r, 65-66 Calendar of 354, 64; fig. 74 camel, 28, 32, 3 5, 59 cameos, imperial, 79; fig. 96
ro6
Index
Candace, 59 cantharos, 7, 9-IO, 37-3S, 40, 6o. See also vase carcass. See carrion carrion, 52, 65 Carthage, mosaic of Dominus Iulius, 9I n. 36 Castalian spring, 45-47, 5I53 Centcelles, domed hall, S7 n. 6r Choricius, 7, 2I, 6o Christogram, 47, 77, 79 churches: consecration of, 49; donations to, 7I-72, 9S n. 30; symbolism of, 26, S9 n. 57 Claudius, 79 Commodus, 79 Communion. See Eucharist confessor, I3 consecration of churches, 49 Constans I, bronze coin, 64; fig. 73 Constantine I, 73 Constantine V, 6 Constantine Manasses, 74-75, 99n. I3 Constantinople, I3, 33, 49, 54, 74; Great Palace, 75, 7S, 79, SS; Patriarchate, 79; St. Mary of Blachernae, 6; St. Sophia, 49, 54, 79, S5 n. 9, S7 n. 49, 99 n. 42 Constantius II, 64 conversion, SI, 54, 64-65 Corippus, II, 64, So cornucopia, 20, 24, 74, 77, 97n. IS, 99n. 33; and eagle, 7S-79 corpse, 43, 5I-52 Cosmas Indicopleustes, 22-23, 26, 29, 37, 49, SS n. 33 crab, 24, 2S, 33, 46, 75 Creator, invocation of, 20 crescent, held by Earth, 70-7I crocodile, 29, 45, 90 n. 94 cross, 5, S-9, II, 24, 2S-29, 34, 43, 51, 63, 65, 7I, 76, S4, S6n. 20; in blue circles, I2-I3, 20, 29, 63, 77-7S; of fish, 40, S2; of "Life" and "Light," 55; signifying cardinal directions, 29, 77-7S crown, S, ss, 6I-63, 65, 76, 7S, So, S2, 96n. 39 Curium, baths of Eustolios, 4S; fig. 64 cypress tree, 22, 36 Cyprian, 27-2S Cyrene, Cathedral, IS, 46
Daniel, I3 Daphne: mosaics from, 75, 94n. 67; oracle at, 45 David, 52 Dead Sea, 43 deer, 3, 39-40, 47, 6S, S2; and eagle, 45, 47, 51-53, 55, 65, 94n. 7S. See also hind, stag Delphic oracle, 43, 45-47, SI-53 designers of mosaics, 14- r 5 Didymus of Alexandria, 4I, 5S-59, 62 dog, 2S, 35, 36, 6S, 70, 72 dolphin, 24, 3 3, 46, 77, 99 n. 2 r donkey, 29, 33, 35, 50, 59, 70 donors, in mosaics, 4S, 50 door, S, rr, 63 dove, 6, 29, 33, 35, sS-59, 6r, 76, 99n. 13 duck, 22, 29, 35-36, 45-46, 61-62, 75, 76, 77, S9 n. 40 Durham Cathedral, silk of St. Cuthbert, 75; fig. Ss eagle, 3, S, 43, 52, 59, 6I, 65-66, 70, 96 n. 4 7, 97 n. S2; and cornucopias, 7S-79; and deer, 45, 47, 51-53, 55, 65, 94n. 7S Earth, as mother, 67-6S, 72; personification of, 20-21, 70, 74-75, 76, 7S, 99n. 33; textiles of, 73, 75 Eden. See Paradise eel, 33 Egypt, 42, 44, 5I-52, 54, S2, S8 n. 3; personification of, 2I ekphrasis, 6-7 Elysian fields, 25 emperor, II, 53, 54, 64-66, 73, 7576, 7S-So, Sr, 97n. S2-S4; as imitator and colleague of God, 79- So, roo n. 44; raised on shield, So. See also Constantine, Heraclius, Justinian empress, 39, 64. See also Theodora Enfidaville, mosaic, I4 Ephrem Syrus, IS, 25-26, 9I n. 43 Epiphanius, bishop of Salamis, I7IS, 2S, 37, 59 Euchaita, martyrion of St. Theodore, Ss n. 9 Eucharist, IO, 36, 3S-39, SI-52, 55, 65, 7I, 9S n. 24 Euphrates, rS, 23-24, 45, 90n. 72 Europe, personification of, 20 Eusebius, 2I, 53-54, 73, 7S
Eustathius, 3 I Evangelists, 27-2S, 62, 77, 90 n. 7I Eve, 59 Ezechias, I3 Felicitas, Saint, 96 n. 57 fig, 75; tree, 36-37 fish, S, I7, 22-24, 2S-29, 3I-35, 45-4~ 54, 57-59, 6o, 62, 6S, 70, 75, S9 n. 40, 99 n. 13; cross of, 40, S2; skeletons of, 75, 99n. 13 flowers, I3, 19, 22-23, 25, 2S-29, 32-33, 49-so, 62, 73, 74, 76-77, 97 n. IS. See also lily, rose Forty Martyrs, 65, So fruit, I3, I9-20, 24-30, 32, 37, 40, 42-45, 47, 49, SI-52, 6o, 70-7I, 73-75, 76-7S, S7n. 6I, 99n. I3; on stamps, 7I Gaius, 73, 75 Ganges, 26 Garden of Eden. See Paradise Gaza: bath, I2-I3, 20-21, 29, 7S; St. Sergius, 7, 6o; St. Stephen, 7, 2I Ge, personiftcation of, 20-2I, 70, 72, 75· See also Earth Gehon. See Nile gems, I9, 37, 62 Gentiles, II, I3, 42-43, SI-52, 5455, 59 geometric pavements, 5-6, S3 George of Pisidia, 26, 34, 39, 45, 63, 73-74, 77-78, 94n. ss Gerasa: church of Elias, Mary, and Soreg, 4S; funerary chapel, IO, fig. 4; SS. Cosmas and Damian, 34-36, 3S, 4S, so, SI-S2, figs. 3S-4I; St. John the Baptist, 46 globe, as imperial symbol, 64, 7S79 Golden Age, 64 Good Shepherd, II- 12 Good Thief, 43, 59, 62 Gospels, 27-2S, 47, 77 grain, I3, 27, 70, 97n. IS. See also wheat grapes, I3, 29, 33, 36, 44, 49, 6o6I, 70, 72, 75. See also vine grass, I I, I7, 27, 32, 42, 59, 6S Gregory of Nazianzus, S-9, IS-2I, 32, 34, 39, 54 Gregory of Nyssa, IS, 6S, 72, S5 n. 9 Gregory of Tours, 62
Index Hadrian, 63-64 harbor, 34, 42, 49 harmony, 54 hart. See stag haven. See harbor heathen. See pagans Helios, 46, 94 n. 72 Henchir Messaouda, baptistery, 47 Henchir Zirara, reliquary from, r r!2; fig. 5 Heraclius, 74 Heraklea Lynkestis, large basilica, 36-4~ 45, 47, Sr-82; figs. 4249 heresies, 42-43, 51, So, roon. 42 Hermogenes, ro, So Hesychius, 59 hind, 36, 38. See also deer Holy Ghost, 6, 19, 43, 68 Homer, 7, 23, 25, 88 n. 19 horse, 28, 35, 46, 50, 53, 59, 68, 70, 76, 89n. 40 Houston, Menil Foundation Collection, bronze stamp, 7I, 98 n. 27; fig. 82 Huarte, North Church, 6o; fig. 68 humanity, 19, 67-72 hunters, 49, 70-72 iconoclasts, 6, 8 3 I' djaz, church, 94 n. 66 incarnation, 83 Indians, 76, 99n. r6 insects, 19, 32, 39, 74 Isaac, sacrifice of, 71, 98 n. 25 Isaiah, 13, 30 Islam, 65 Israel, 9, 42-43, 59. See also Jews Istanbul, Seraglio Library, MS. 8 (Octateuch), 23; fig. 14 Istros, inscription at, 48 Jacob of Sarlig, 92 n. 55, 93 n. 54 Jeremiah, 13 Jerome, 27, 29, 39, 52 Jerusalem, I I - r 2, 59; Dome of the Rock, 65; mosaic of bird rinceau, 6o-6r, 96n. 49, fig. 69; mosaic of Orpheus, 53 Jews, 13, 42-44, 53, 54· See alsoIsrael John Chrysostom, 52, 68-69, 72 John Climacus, 9, 65 John of Damascus, 83 John Diakrinomenos, 6
John of Gaza, 12-13, 20-21, 29, 63, 78 John Philoponos, 3 r Jordan, 42 Juno, 39, 64 Jupiter, 66, 79, 97 n. 82 Justin II, 13, 64, So Justinian, 12, 28, 45, 49-50, 54, 6465, 75, 78-80, 83; gold medallion of, 64, fig. 75; statue before St. Sophia, 64 Kallistos, patriarch, 93 n. 5 r Kamara Dere, epitaph of Sisinnios, 93 n. 48 Karhk, mosaic, 30; fig. 34 karpoi, 20-21, 71 Kato Paphos-Chrysopolitissa, basilica, ro; fig. 3 Khalde, church, 33-34, 36, 47, 75, Sr-82; figs. 35-37 Khan Khalde, Lower Church, 6o Khirbat al-Makhayyat: church of the Priest John, 69-72, 8r, figs. 76-So; St. George, 70-72, 8r, figs. 8r, 83 Khirbat Hasan, church, 98 n. 30 Kithara. See lute knife and fruit, 50 Kosmesis, 45, 48, 50, 54-55, 82 kosmos, 24, 74 Ktisis, 45, 48-50, 54-55, 82, 93 n. 48, 94n. 67 Kypros, wife of Herodes Agrippa, 73. 75 lamb, 6, ro-13, 30, 78, 83, 87n. 44, 99 n. r 3. See also sheep leopard, 30, 33, 36-37, 38, 46, 76 Liber Pontifical is of Naples, 13 Life of Saint Stephen the Younger, 6 lighthouse, 46-47, 51, 94n. 72 lily, 13, 36 lion, 29-30, 33, 35-36, 38, 45, 70, 72, 76, 89 n. 40, 99 n. I 3 liturgy: of consecration, 49; of Mass, 52 lotus plant, 22, 29, 36, 45-46 lute, r8, 46, 53-54 lyre, 53 Madeba: Apostles church, 88 n. 22; Chapel of Suaitha, 98 n. 25 Madrid, Academia de la Historia,
I07
missorium of Theodosius I, 74, 78; fig. 84 Makarios, bishop, 45 map of the world, 22-23, 26, 88 n. 33; fig. 13 Martial, 65 Martin, 62 martyr, 13, 35, 57-58, 62-63, 65, 78 Mary. See Virgin Mary Mass. See liturgy mast, 34 Maxim us the Confessor, 26, 89 n. 57 Maxim us of Turin, 29, 94 n. 78 melon, 24, 50 metaphor, 3, 8, 86 n. 37 Milan, chapel of St. Victor, 13 Minucius Felix, 89 n. 64 monophysitism, 6, 83 months, 25-26; personifications of, 2!, 24-27, 48, 83 Moses, 29 Mount Nebo: baptistery, 98 n. 32; Theotokos chapel, 49; fig. 65 Mount Sinai, basilica of St. Catherine, 12, 28-30, 45, 8r, 90n. 84, 98 n. 25; figs. 6, 23-33 mouse, 75 music, 54, 70 Nancy, imperial cameo, 79 Naples, S. Giovanni in Fonte, 90n. 72 naturalism, 82-83 Nea Anchialos, Basilica C, 7, 40, 82 Nealkes, 29 Neoplatonists, 65 nereid, 21 Nicaea, painted tomb, 40; fig. 51 nightingale, 6o Nika riot, 49, 79 Nikephoros, patriarch, 83-84 Nikopolis, basilica of Dumetios, 21-25, 33-34, 36, 45, 47, 62, 8r, 89n. 40; figs. I0-!2 Nile, 7, r8, 22-24, 26, 29, 36, 4247, 51-52, 82, 87n. 3, 90n. 72 Nil us of Sinai, 5 Nola, basilica at, 14, 28 nuts, 75 oblation, 71 Ocean, personification of, 20, 74. See also Thalassa Odyssey, 7
108
Index
offering. See prosphora Ohrid, baptistery, 90 n. 72 olive, 13, 97n. 18 oracle, 43, 45-47, 51-53 Origen, 17-18, 26, 41, 44, 51, 58, 62, 89n. 64 Orpheus, 53-54 Ostia, baptistery, 90 n. 72 ostrich, 29, 33, 46, 6o, 90 n. 94 Oumm Harteyn, St. John the Baptist, 89n. 40 Ovid, 39 OX, 28-30 pagans, 20, 27, 43, 51-53, 54, 58, 6o, 63, 64, 69, 8o palace, mosaic of Earth in, 74 Palm, 76; tree, 63, 91 n. 36 Pan, 46, 53, 83 panegyric, imperial, 73-74, 79, 81 panther. See leopard Paradise, 17-18, 22-23, 26-28, 30, 35, 37-38, 43, 59, 6o, 77; Animal Paradise, 30; climate of, 7, 25; fountain in, 26, 37, 43, 91 n. 43· See also Peaceable Kingdom, Rivers of Paradise Paris: Cabinet des Medailles, imperial cameo, 79; Louvre, Barberini Diptych, 75-76, fig. 86 patrons, 14-15 Paul, apostle, 18, 43, 59, 62-63 Paul, bishop of Apamea, 14 Paul the Silentiary, 12, 79, 85 n. 9 Paulinus of Nola, 14, 27-28, 87 n. 44 Peaceable Kingdom, 37. See also Paradise peacock, 3, 6-7, 19, 28-29, 35-36, 38-40, 46, 50, 53, 6o, 61, 69, 76-77, 82; on globe, 61, 63-66, 76-77, 92n. 56, 96n. 71, 99n. 13 pear, 49, 75; tree, 7, 22, 45 Persia, 65, 74 Phela paten, 55; fig. 67 Philip, apostle, 43, 59 Philip, poet, 73 Philo, 49, 67, 72 Phison, 23-24, 26, 90 n. 72 phoenix, 20, 61-66, 82, 96n. 57 Physiologus, 63-64 pine tree, 36, 62 Plato, 54 Pliny, 29, 92 n. 56
Plotinus, 9 Poemon, abbot, 38 pomegranate, 49, 75; tree, 7, 22, 36, 45, 46, 50-51 Poree, church of Eufrasius, 77; fig. 91 Procopius of Caesarea, 54, 64, 78, 79 Procopius of Gaza, 20, 29, 40, 59 prophets, 13 prosphora, 69-71 Pseudo-Dionysios, 41 Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, 15, 4455, 64, 81, 83; figs. 52-63 Quinisext Council, 6, 83 ram, 46, 76 Ras el-Hilal, basilica, 50 Ravenna: Orthodox Baptistery, 96 n. 39; S. Apollinare in Classe, 87 n. 45; S. Apollinare Nuovo, 78, fig. 95; S. Vitale, 62, 76-80, 83, 98 n. 25, figs. 87-90, 92-94; sarcophagi at, 40 reaper, 70-71 Renewal, personification of. See
Ananeosis reptiles, 32-33, 38, 58-59 Resurrection, 27, 63, 65-66 river, 8-9, 19, 21, 32, 42-44, 47, 73, 83 Rivers of Paradise, 12, 18, 23-28, 37, 43, 45-48, 51-52, 55, 77, 90n. 72, 91 n. 43, 94n. 69 Romanos, 8-9, II, 44, 49, 51, 54, 55, 62, 63, 65, So, 91 n. 23 Rome: Biblioteca Vaticana, MS. gr. 699 (Cosmas Indicopleustes), 2223, fig. 13; catacomb of St. Callixtus, tomb cover, 47; Conservatori Museum, bust of Commodus, 79; Museo Pio Cristiano, tomb cover of Firmia Victora, 93 n. 39; S. Agnese fuori le mura, 63; SS. Cosmas and Damian, 12, 63, fig. 7 rose, 13, 36, 77 Sabratha, basilica of Justinian, 6166, 81-83; figs. 70-72 sailor, 34, 46, 51 saints, 43, 57-59, 62-63, 65, 77, 8o, 83 Salona, baptistery, 3 8
Sea, personification of. See Thalassa sea centaur, 21 sea monster, 34, 46-47 seasons, 7, 19, 24-27, 32, 36-37, 40, 73-74, 77-78; personifications of, 13, 20-21, 27, 71, 83, 87n. 6r, 97n. r8 Sedulius, 27 serpent. See snake Severian of Gabala, 28, 33, 37, 40, 59, 88 n. 3 Severus of Antioch, 6 Severus, bishop of Naples, 13 sheep, 12-13, 33, 35, 45, 67-70, 72; against tree, 71, 98 n. 25. See also lamb, ram shepherd, II, 46, 53-54, 67, 87n. 44 ship. See boat Sidi Abich, Byzantine church, 95 n. 30, 99n. 13 Sinai. See Mount Sinai Siyagha. See Mount Nebo Skhira, basilica, 3 8; fig. 50 Smyrna, Evangelical School, Octateuch, 23 snake, 33, 45, 47, 51, 59, 65. See also viper soldier martyr, 78, 8o spider, 19 spirit upon the waters, 19-20, 40, 43-44, 59 stag, 7, 33, 36, 38, 45, 47, 51. See also deer stamps, bronze, 71, 98 n. 27; fig. 82 stork, 33, 6o, 61 Strabo, 22 stream, 8-9, 43, 73. See also river style, 82 sun, 9, 19-20, 26-27, 32, 49, 58, 64, 68, 73, 74, 76, 8o; ofJustice, 42-44, 51-52, 64, 8o swallow, 33, 6o, 76 synagogue, 43, 46, 53 Tegea, basilica of Thyrsos, 24-28, 33, 36, 47-48, 8r; figs. 15-21 temple, 46, 53 Tertullian, 58, 62, 89 n. 64, 91 n. 23, 92n. 64 Tetrarchs, 74 textiles: showing animals, 83; showing Earth, 73, 75 Thalassa, personification of, 20-21, 88n. 22
Index Thebes, mosaic of the months, 14 Theodora, 12, 28, 45, 50, 54, 78, 83 Theodore of Mopsuestia, 41-42, 48-49 Theodoret, bishop of Cyrus, 19-20, 49 Theodorias, 44-45, 48-5I, 54-55 Theodosius 1: coin& showing phoenix, 64; missorium of, 74, 78, fig. 84 Theophanes, 74 Theophilus of Antioch, 40, 41-42, 57-58 Thessaloniki, arch of Galerius, 74, 97n. 84 Tiberi us II, I 3, 97 n. 84 Tigris, 23-24, 45, 90 n. 72 tombs, 47, 6o-6I, 93 n. 39 Trajan, 63 Tree of Life, 25, 78 trident, 77 Trikkala, mosaic of Lycurgus, 14
Trinity, 8-9, 12, 20, 36, 63, 65, 96n. 47 triton, 29, 46, 83, 99n. 21 vase, 7, 24, 33, 35-40, 46, 6o. See also cantharos Venice, S. Marco, Sedia di San Marco, 90n. 71 vices, symbolized by land animals, 57-59 Victor, Saint, 13 victory, personification of, 76 Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum, imperial cameo, 79; fig. 96 villas, mosaics in, 71 vine, 7-ro, 29, 32, 35-40, 44, 65, 82, 86 n. 20, 91 n. ro; bird rinceau, 6o-66, 75, 82, 95 n. 30; the True Vine, IO, 32, 35· See also grapes vineyard, 9, 32, 3 5 vintage, 70, 71
109
viper, 33 Virgin Mary, 8, II, I3, 63, 87n. 44 virginity, 63 Vitalis, Saint, 78, 8o vulture, 33, 52 waters: above the firmament, r8, 3I, 90 n. 84; gathering of, 29, 3I, 34, 42, 50-55, 82; ofLife, 78, 92n. 67 weapons, of men and animals, 6768, 70, 72 wheat, 20-2I, 24, 74, 75, 98 n. 30. See also grain winds, personifications of, 20 wine, ro, 24 winepress, 70-72 winter, 7, 13, 24-25, 36, 39, 44· See also seasons zodiac, 64
BLANK PAGE
Illustrations
BLANK PAGE
FIG.
r. Butrinto, baptistery, pavement, inserted motifs
FIG. 2.
Ancona, Christian tomb, pavement, The Vineyard of Isaiah
FIG. 3. Kato Paphos-Chrysopolitissa, basilica, nave pavement (detail), "I am the True Vine"
FIG. 4· Gerasa, funerary chapel, nave pavement (detail), Vine with Commemorative
Inscription
FIG. 5. Christ and His Flock, Vatican, Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, silver reliquary from Henchir Zirara
FIG. 6. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, apse mosaic
FIG. 7· Rome, SS. Cosmas and Damian, apse mosaic
FIG. 8. Antioch, Bath "E", large hall, pavement (detail), Earth
FIG. 9. Antioch, Bath "E", large hall, pavement, The Earth and the Water
FIG.
ro. Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement, Earth and Ocean
FIG . I
r. Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement (detail) , Earth and Ocean
FIG . 12.
Plant
Nikopolis, Basilica of Dumetios, north transept, pavement, Ocean (detail) , Duck in Lotus
FIG. I3. Map of the World According to Cosmas Indicopleustes. Rome, Biblioteca Vaticana, MS. gr. 699, fol. 40v .
FIG. 14. The Creation of Land Animals. Istanbul, Seraglio Library, MS. 8, fol. 32v.
FIG. IS. Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean
FIG. r6. Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement
(detail) , Tigris
FIG. 17. Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement
(detail), July
FIG. r8 . Tegea, Basilica ofThyrsos, nave pavement
(detail), August
Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement (detai1), February
FIG . I9.
Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement (detail), May
FIG . 20 .
Tegea, Basilica of Thyrsos, nave pavement (detail), Marine Creatures in Border
FIG. 21.
FIG. 22 .
Antioch, building north of St. Paul's Gate, pavement, "Renewal" and the Seasons
FIG. 23 . Mount Sinai. St. Catherine, nave, ceiling
beams
FIG. 24. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, first ceiling beam, Land Creatures
FIG. 25 . Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, first ceiling beam (detail), Antelope and Plants
FIG. 26. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, third ceiling beam, Marine Creatures
FIG. 27. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, third ceiling beam (detail), Marine Creatures
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FIG. 28. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, sixth ceiling beam, Beasts of the Land
FIG. 29 . Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, sixth ceiling beam (detail), Boar and Elephant
FIG . 30. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, ninth ceiling beam, Birds
FIG . 3 r. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, ninth ceiling beam (detail), Birds
FIG. 32. Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, twelfth ceiling beam, Nilotic Scenes
FIG. 33 . Mount Sinai, St. Catherine, nave, twelfth ceiling beam (detail), Crocodile, Boat, and Ostrich
FIG. 34- Karhk, basilica, pavement (detail), Animal Paradise of Isaiah
Frc. 3 5. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean
FIG. 36. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement (detail), "Ship of Peace"
FIG. 37. Khalde, basilica, nave pavement (detail), One Creature D evours Another
FIG. 38. Gerasa, SS . Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement, Terrestrial Creation
FIG. 39. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement (detail), Vine
FIG. 40. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement
(detail), Birds, Beasts, and Acanthus Plant
FIG . 41. Gerasa, SS. Cosmas and Damian, nave pavement (detail), Birds, Beasts, and Water Creatures
FIG. 42. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement, Earth and Ocean
FIG. 43 . Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement, central composition
FIG. 44· Heraklea Lynkestis , Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Goat under Cedar Tree
FIG. 45 · Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Lion and Bull under Apple Tree
FIG. 46. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Dog under Fig Tree
FIG. 47. Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Leopard and Hind under Pomegran ate
Tree
FIG. 48 . Heraklea Lynkestis, Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Cross of Fish in the Border
FIG. 49. Heraklea Lynkestis; Large Basilica, narthex pavement (detail), Ducks and Tree in Winter
FIG.
so.
Skhira, basilica, sanctuary pavement (detail), Stags Flanking Vase
FIG.
5 I . Nicaea, painted tomb, Peacocks Flanking Caritharos
FrG. 52. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement, Earth and Ocean
FIG. 53 · Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), The "New
Town Theodorias"
FIG. 54. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Ktisis"
FIG. 55. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Kosmesis"
FIG. 56. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Ananeosis"
FIG. 57. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement (detail), "Phison"
FIG. sS. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave
pavement (detail) , Eagle Rending Deer
FIG. 59· Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave
pavement (detail), Stag and S erpent
FIG. 60. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave
pavement (detail), "Castalia"
FIG. 6r. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement
(detail), Facade
FrG. 62 . Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement
(detail), Musician
FrG. 63. Qasr-el-Lebia, East Church, nave pavement
(detail), "The Lighthouse"
Frc. 64. Curium, Baths of Eustolius, "Long Mosaic Room," pavement (detail), " Ktisis"
Frc. 65. Mount Nebo, Theotokos Chapel, nave pavement (detail), Fruit and Knife
FIG. 66. Antioch, House of Ktisis, pavement, "Ktisis" and Creatures
FIG. 67. Silver paten. from Phela . Bern, Abegg-Stiftung
FIG . 68 . Huarte, North Church, pavement of apse
FIG. 69. Jerusalem, pavement discovered near the Damascus Gate, Bird Rinceau
D
FIG . 70.
Sabratha, Basilica of Justinian, pavements
Frc. 7r. Sabratha, Basilica of Justinian, nave pavement, Bird Rinceau
Frc. 72. Sabratha, Basilica of Justinian, sanctuary
pavement (detail), Aquatic Creatures
73. Cons tans I (obverse) and Phoenix on Globe (reverse) , bronze coin from the mint of Trier. British Museum
FIG.
FIG . 74· Peiresc's copy of the Calendar of 3 54, Constantius II Holding Phoenix on Globe . Rome, Vatican Library, MS. Barb. Lat. 2154, fol. 7
75 . justinian Wearing Peacock Plumes, cast of gold medallion from Caesarea. British Museum
FIG .
FIG. 76. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic
FIG . 77. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Earth
FIG. 78. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Earth
FIG. 79. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Man's Defenses against Beasts
FIG. So. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, Church of the Priest John, nave mosaic (detail), Domestic Dog
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Frc. 8I· Khirbat al- Makha yyat, St. George, plan of mosaics
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FIG. 82. Bronze stamp. Houston, Menil Foundation Collection
FIG. 83. Khirbat al-Makhayyat, St. George, Wild and Domestic Beasts
FIG. 84. Theodosius Enthroned over Earth, silver missorium . Madrid, Academia de Ia Historia
~Tv'' FIG. 85. Silk from St. Cuthbert's coffin (reconstructed detail), Earth . Durham Cathedral
~JJ.
FIG .
86. Divine and Imperial Dominion, leaf of ivory diptych . Paris, Louvre
Opposite:
FIG .
87. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, vault and arches
Frc. 88. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, vault
FrG. 89. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, soffit at top of eastern arch
FrG. 90. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, soffit at top of western arch
FIG. 91. Porec, Basilica of Eufrasius, apse, intarsia panel, Cornucopias and Tridents
FIG. 92. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, apse and north side
FIG. 93· Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, apse mosaic, Christ Bestows Crown on St. Vita/is
FIG. 94. Ravenna, S. Vitale, chancel, mosaic, Justinian and Twelve Companions
FIG. 95 - Ravenna, S. Apollinare Nuovo,
south wall, mosaic (detail) , St . Vitalis and Other Martyrs
FIG. 96 . Crossed Cornucopias and Imperial Busts, onyx
cameo. Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum
