SilvanaEditoriale

2012 IV serie - anno II, 2012

Spedizione postale gruppo IV 70%

SilvanaEditoriale

IV serie - anno II, 2012

IV serie - anno II, 2012

SilvanaEditoriale

Arte medievale Periodico annuale IV serie - anno II, 2012 © Sapienza Università di Roma Direttore responsabile Marina Righetti Direzione, Redazione Dipartimento di Storia dell’arte e Spettacolo Sapienza Università di Roma P.le Aldo Moro, 5 - 00185 Roma Tel. 0039 06 49913409-49913949 e-mail: [email protected] www.artemedievale.it I testi proposti per la pubblicazione dovranno essere redatti secondo le norme adottate nella rivista e consultabili nel suo sito. Essi dovranno essere inviati, completi di corredo illustrativo (immagini in .tif o .jpg ad alta risoluzione di 300 dpi) e riassunto, per essere sottoposti all’approvazione del Comitato Scientifico al seguente indirizzo: [email protected] La rivista, impegnandosi a garantire in ogni fase il principio di terzietà della valutazione, adotta le vigenti procedure internazionali di peer review, con l’invio di ciascun contributo pervenuto, in forma anonima, a due revisori anch’essi anonimi. Il collegio stabile dei revisori scientifici della rivista, che si avvale di studiosi internazionali esperti nei diversi ambiti della storia dell’arte medievale, può essere di volta in volta integrato con ulteriori valutatori qualora ciò sia ritenuto utile o necessario per la revisione di contributi di argomento o taglio particolare. La Direzione della rivista conserva, sotto garanzia di assoluta riservatezza, la documentazione relativa al processo di valutazione, e si impegna a pubblicare con cadenza regolare sulla rivista stessa l’elenco dei valutatori che hanno collaborato nel biennio precedente. Autorizzazione Tribunale di Roma n. 241/2002 del 23/05/2002 In copertina: Washington D.C., Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection, ac. no. 3723, roundel with Byzantine emperor (Photo Dumbarton Oaks, Byzantine Collection, Washington, D.C.).

Distribuzione Silvana Editoriale Via Margherita De Vizzi, 86 20092 Cinisello Balsamo, Milano Tel. 02 6172464 / 02 66046005 Fax 02 6172464 www.silvanaeditoriale.it Direzione editoriale Dario Cimorelli Coordinamento e grafica Piero Giussani Riproduzioni, stampa e rilegatura Arti Grafiche Amilcare Pizzi SpA Cinisello Balsamo, Milano Finito di stampare dicembre 2012

Comitato promotore F. Avril, B. Brenk, F. Bucher, A. Cadei, W. Cahn, V.H. Elbern, H. Fillitz, M.M. Gauthier, C. Gnudi, L. Grodecki, J. Hubert, E. Kitzinger, L. Pressouyre, A.M. Romanini, W. Sauerländer, L. Seidel, P. Skubiszewski, H. Torp, J. White, D. Whitehouse Comitato direttivo M. Righetti, A.M. D’Achille, A. Iacobini, A. Tomei Comitato scientifico M. Andaloro, F. Avril, X. Barral i Altet, M. Bonfioli, G. Bonsanti, B. Brenk, S. Casartelli Novelli, A.M. D’Achille, M. D’Onofrio, V.H. Elbern, F. Gandolfo, A. Guiglia, A. Iacobini, H.L. Kessler, G. Lorenzoni, A. Peroni, P.F. Pistilli, P. Piva, F. Pomarici, A.C. Quintavalle, R. Recht, M. Righetti, S. Romano, A. Segagni, A. Tomei, H. Torp, G. Wolf Redazione R. Cerone, A. Cosma, C. D’Alberto, B. Forti, M.T. Gigliozzi, F. Manzari, S. Moretti, M.R. Rinaldi, E. Scungio

SOMMARIO

MATERIALI

CRITICA 9 The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble in Byzantium: From Global Impression to Focal Attention Bente Kiilerich 29 Architettura termale nella Sicilia medievale: nuove ipotesi sull’identità dell’edificio di Mezzagnone Ilenia Licitra 61 Why is He Hiding? The Mosaic of Emperor Alexander in Hagia Sophia, Constantinople Natalia Teteriatnikov

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L’altarolo eburneo della cattedrale di Trani: dalla tradizione alla realtà storica Marcello Mignozzi

RECENSIONI 297 Storia di Barlaam e Josaphas secondo il manoscritto 89 della Biblioteca Trivulziana di Milano a cura di Giovanna Frosini e Alessio Monciatti Sismel Edizioni del Galluzzo, Firenze 2009

Francesca Tasso

77 Gli affreschi di S. Urbano alla Caffarella: qualche elemento di discussione Serena Romano

299 Lucca e l’Europa. Un’idea di medioevo, V-XI secolo

95 Al-H.ad.ra ar-Rug˘g˘a¯riyya. Arabismo e propaganda politica alla corte di Ruggero II di Sicilia Umberto Bongianino

302 Stefania Paone, Alessandro Tomei, La pittura medievale nell’Abruzzo aquilano

Edizioni Fondazione Ragghianti Studi sull’Arte, Lucca 2010

Ettore Napione

Silvana Editoriale, Cinisello Balsamo 2010

Gaetano Curzi

121 La decorazione duecentesca dell’eremo di S. Cataldo a Cottanello Cristina Ranucci 135 La resistenza all’antico nella Roma del Duecento: a proposito del portale romanico di S. Antonio Abate sull’Esquilino Xavier Barral i Altet 161 Concerning Chrysography in Dugento Tuscan Painting and the origin of the twoWashington Madonnas Joseph Polzer 187 La Madonna del latte del Museo Marciano di Venezia Federica Copelli

304 L’officina di Giotto. Il restauro della Croce di Ognissanti a cura di Marco Ciatti Edifir, Firenze 2010

Alessio Monciatti 309 Alessandro Cosma, Valerio Da Gai, Gianni Pittiglio, Iconografia agostiniana. Dalle origini al XIV secolo Città Nuova Editrice, Roma 2011

Maria Rosaria Rinaldi 311 Simona Rinaldi, Storia tecnica dell’arte. Materiali e metodi della pittura e della scultura (secc. V-XIX) Carocci, Roma 2011

Francesca Gallo 201 The Eye and the Womb: Viewing the Schreinmadonna Assaf Pinkus 221 «Ella sogna Dittici»: gli avori bizantini e medievali nell’opera di Anton Francesco Gori (1691-1757) Abra Visconti

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION Bente Kiilerich

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he aesthetic qualities of marbles and coloured stones were highly appreciated in Byzantium. For the decoration of walls and floors the artists explored the potentialities of multicoloured, burnished marbles and achieved exciting visual effects by juxtaposing stones of different colours and veining. Hagia Sophia in Constantinople is the finest extant example and the Great Church provides an excellent opportunity to study the visual impact of monumental decorations. In his Descriptio S. Sophiae, Paul the Silentiary presents ten varieties of coloured stones stemming from all parts of the empire. Taking these as a point of departure, the article addresses the aesthetics of marble, examining the relationship between the written sources and the art historical evidence. In order to throw light on how the early medieval spectators experienced church interiors the discussion draws on the findings of psychobiological and neuroaesthetic research. It is argued that the principles of two kinds of viewing, by modern research named respectively global impression and focal attention, were known already in the early Byzantine period.1

THE AESTHETICS OF MARBLE For the interior of Hagia Sophia the court dignitary Paul the Silentiary is an important contemporary eye witness giving detailed accounts of designs and materials. He elucidates many aspects of the decorations, including the aims and aspirations of the commissioner, and he prescribes ways of beholding and understanding the imagery. Paul’s Descriptio S. Sophiae was delivered in December 562 or January 563, when the church was newly reconstructed after the collapse of the cupola in the earthquake of 558.2 The poem is composed of a proemio (vv. 1-134), an elogio over Justinian and the patriarch Eutychius (vv. 135-354), followed by the description of Hagia Sophia (vv. 355-920) and a conclusion (vv. 921-1029). Much of the

description is devoted to the marbles: the various types of stones (vv. 617-646), revetments (vv. 647-667), decorations, iconostasis and lightening; in addition it includes a separate treatment of the ambo, one of the finest features in the church (Descr. ambonis, in 304 verses).3 Paul the Silentiary’s text is an ekphrasis, but although it follows rhetorical conventions it is still of value as an archaeological and art historical source. Indeed, modern art historians are at pains to find more eloquent expressions for the splendour and costliness of the materials than the ones offered by this sixth-century court official.4 Even what may seem the most trivial passage, namely the thirty verses enumerating various marbles and coloured stones, furnishes important evidence for evaluating Byzantine material aesthetics and therefore warrant closer study.5 After having mentioned the local white Proconnesian marble (v. 606), Paul the Silentiary catalogues the following ten lithotypes (vv. 617-646) [1].6 From «the green flanks of Karystos» in Euboea comes a green (chlora) marble. This can be identified as marmor caristium also known as cipollino. It is light to dark green, grey and white with undulating veins, sometimes appearing in parallel lines.7 The Phrygian stone, phryga petros, displays colours of red and white, «sometimes gleaming with purple and silver flowers» (v. 624). This marble, known as pavonazzetto, marmor phrygium, or marmor synnadicum, is speckled in white, reddish purple and a deeper purple. In certain varieties the veins tend to a yellowish hue.8 Porphyreos is «mixed with bright stars» and comes from the «land of the Nile» (vv. 625626). It is the famous white-spotted purple porphyry, porphyrites or porfido rosso, which was caved under imperial control. The stars referred to by Paul are the small white to pink phenocrysts.9 Chloeron Lakaines, Laconian green, is green porphyry or serpentine, lapis lacedaemonius from Sparta. It comes in a medium to dark 9

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1. The marbles mentioned by Paul the Silentiary, Descriptio S. Sophiae, vv. 617-646 (montage Author).

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green with small white or yellow phenocrysts.10 Like purple porphyry, this stone was important in imperial ideology. The «glittering» marble from Iassos in Caria is described by the Silentiary as dark red with white and grey bands. Found in «the deep gullies of the Iasian peaks» (v. 630), it can be identified with marmor iassense or marmor carium, also known as cipollino rosso. Contrasting striations give this stone a great variety.11 Lydios is pale yellow (ochron) mixed with red. The identification of marmor lydium is less certain. A likely identification is marmor sagarium, which is pale yellow and red, but sometimes appears also in a deep orange colour. Mined chiefly at Bilecik in Bithynia, this breccia corallina is perhaps related to the variety which because of the eye-like patterns formed by shells is known as occhio di pavone rosso.12

The stone from Libya is defined as yellow (krokoenta) and golden (chryseos) and «warmed by the golden light of the sun» (vv. 634-635). It can be identified with giallo antico, marmor numidicum. The caves which were under imperial control are situated at Chemtou in Tunisia. Some stones are pale yellow with just the slightest white and red, while others have a warmer golden tone, some with white patches, and some with red or brownish striations.13 The Celtic stone is «glittering black (...) with here and there abundance of milk» (v. 638). As a contrast to the yellow stone warmed by the sun, this one stems from «crags deep in ice» (v. 637). It is the bianco e nero from Aquitania in France, marmor celticum. The irregular patterns in black and white result in an exciting range of visual imagery.14 Onyx is simply described as pale and translucent (diaugazonti). Paul fails to mention its provenance. He could have in mind alabaster from the Nile valley, in pale honey and white. However, there are several provenances (e.g., Asia Minor, Italy). Since Paul elsewhere refers to stone from Hierapolis in Asia Minor, the onyx in Hagia Sophia may well stem from there. The colour of the many varieties of lapis onyx or alabaster ranges from white to honey, grey and taupe, some with marked veins and intricate swirls.15 Atrakis is emerald green (maragdou) to a darker bluish green (halis chloaonta). Sometimes it has «snow-like spots and flashes (marmaryges) of black» (vv. 645-646). This green Thessalian stone, which derives its name from the locality Atrax, was quarried at Chasanbali, near Larisa. Marmor thessalicum, marmor atracium, is known today as verde antico. Because of the uneven distribution of dark serpentine and white marble clasts within the stone, it comes in a great variety, but especially in dark speckled and spotted green.16 The mentioned lithotypes are used in various parts of the church and it is therefore possible to correlate the listed marbles with the revetments in situ [2]. Fragments of most of the stones (red and green porphyry, yellow marble from Numidia, green Thessalian stone, redspeckled Asian marble, Celtic black and white) have also been recovered in the slightly earlier church of St. Polyeuktos, which emperor Justinian certainly wanted to surpass in splendour.17 With the exception of onyx, Paul the Silentiary gives the place of origin for each mar-

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION

ble and he notes the stones’ properties in terms of patterns and colour. This is factual information, and by and large the presentation of provenance, colour and characteristics is in accordance with modern petrographic description. But Paul combines factual information and poetic expressions. The distribution of hues within a stone is defined as speckled, mingled (v. 623: memigmenon), wavy, streaky, slanting, changing or swirling (v. 629: polyplagktoisin heligmois: ever moving windings or convolutions). Marmaréos means flashing and gleaming, marmaíro indicates to sparkle and gleam, and porphy´reos denotes splendour. Paul refers to this as flashing (v. 625: apastraptonta), bright (v. 627: lampei), twinkling (vv. 628, 635: amarygma), gleaming (v. 638: stilbonti), translucent (v. 640: diaugazonti). The poet further paints a vivid picture of the natural environment of the stones: one is hewn from steep flanks, another from a deep gully, while yet another comes from the plain. One stone has been warmed by the sun, while, as a striking contrast, another stems from icy crags. Paul the Silentiary does not mention the stones in any immediately identifiable order, for

instance grouping reds, greens and yellows. Nor does he name the most expensive, rare and spectacular stones first.18 As for petrographic classification, marble and andesite, limestone, calcareous alabaster and ophicalcite are presented in a seemingly random order. As far as provenances are concerned, Paul moves in three circles (periodoi) from one continent to the next, proceeding from Greece to Phrygia, and then to Egypt, before he returns to Europe, then follows Asia, Numidia, France and, finally, Thessaly. Indeed, Paul takes the listener on a roundtrip (periegesis). Following his route on a map his words almost mimic the heligmos, the winding of the streaks on a block of Carian marble. By presenting the stones in this manner, the distances travelled by them seem even longer. There may be a further aspect: some have pointed to the significance of circular movement in the creation of sacred space, suggesting that circular movement in itself creates sacred space.19 Since Paul the Silentiary deliberately alternates the various hues, and shifts from single to multiple colours: green, rosy/red/purple/silver, purple, bright green, blood red & white, yellow & red, golden, black & white, pale,

2. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, the east side of the narthex, revetments in pavonazzetto, rosso antico, verde antico, giallo antico and other stones (photo Author).

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3. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, northern aisle, detail of marbles, including a porphyry pilaster (photo Author).

green/white/black, the aesthetic principle of the presentation is that of contrast. By intermingling colours, geography, and geology (marble, breccia, andesite), the contrasting colours, the amount of exotic and costly materials and especially the great material diversity come out. In short Paul the Silentiary voices the aesthetics of poikilía or varietas.20 Colour, splendour and movement Paul’s list includes three green stones, three purple to red ones, three yellow to golden, and one black and white. Similarly Procopius, who saw Justinian’s brand-new church in 537, emphasizes the «purple (to halourgon) hue of some, the green (to chloazon) of others, those on which the purple-red (to phoinikeon) blooms (epanthei) and those that flash with white (to leukon)» (Aed. I, 1, 60).21 In both authors, purple, green, red and white/yellow are singled out as the principal colours. Purple (halourgos, porphy´reos, purpureus) was the most highly praised colour in Antiquity.22 Significantly, in addition to designating the purple spectre, it also means gleaming, bright and splendid, porphyreos being associated with qualities such as brilliance (phaneros) and lustre

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(lampros).23 Pliny noted that purpureus was brilliant (refulgens) by transmitted light (NH IX, 38, 135): it was a «precious colour which gleams (subluces) with the hue of a dark rose» (NH IX, 36, 126). Or, as Philostratos put it: «although it seems to be dark, it gains a peculiar beauty from the sun and is infused with the brilliancy of the sun’s warmth» (Imagines I, 28). Aristotle observed that the rays of the rising and the setting sun, when passing through the top of the waves, appear purple (On Colours 792a, 20-24). The association of purple and sunshine is found in many cultures, thus in Indo-European myth purple-red cows can stand for sunlight (Rigveda 6, 32, 2: «he made light [...] freed the purple-red cows»). Dio Cassius who describes a purple awning in the Domus Aurea in Rome, notes that Nero is presented as the sun in his chariot surrounded by gleaming stars set against the purple sky (Hist. LXIII, 2). In the twelfth century, the emperor John II Comnenos was likened to a purple-shining sun (Theodor Prodromos I, 1315). The purple stone par excellence, the Egyptian porphyrites is used in Hagia Sophia for columns, panels and incrustations [3]. Purple could form a compound with white: leukoporphy´reos, white-purple, as in pavo-

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION 4. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, alabaster slab (photo Author). 5. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, bookmatched cipollino panel (photo Author).

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6. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, view from southern aisle towards the naos, columns in verde antico (photo Author).

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nazzetto, the Phrygian stone mentioned by Silentiarius. In the Hagia Sophia revetment, pavonazzetto and cipollino rosso display a mixture of red, white and purple, while red appears in combination with yellow in the so-called Lydian stone. The colour of the sun ranges from bright yellow to orange, turning at times to an intense red; like purple, red was perceived as a colour of light.24 Phoiníkeos suggests a purplered or crimson hue (cf. phoiniks, a ‘firebird’). A red or a yellow hue was referred to as pyrrós, flame-coloured. Ôchros is pale yellow, as in alabaster, while chryseos, as in the African giallo antico, indicates a warmer, golden hue. Giallo antico, which was very popular for Roman monumental architecture, was the preferred and the most expensive yellow stone.25 Giallo antico and alabaster are much used in Hagia Sophia for horizontal friezes as well as for larger panels, contrasting with dark green and other hues [4]. Leukos means white, bright, gleaming, radiant and shining.26 In Hagia Sophia the greyveined white marble from Proconnesus in the Sea of Marmara (the marble sea) covers the vast expanses of the floors. The lightness of the colour makes the surface expand, its veins and striations giving the impression of gentle move-

ment. Procopius presents the floor in the church of Acacius as covered with white stone «from which such a brilliant light is reflected that it gives the impression that the whole church is coated with snow» (Aed. I, 4, 25-26). Proconnesian marble was manufactured for column shafts in the galleries, for capitals and entablatures and for various details and borders, undercut in à jour technique. Paul emphasises the colour green. Chlôros indicates a greenish yellow or pale green hue, chloratheo means to gleam green and chloekomeo to have green shoots. Statius noted that the Amyclean (that is Laconian or Spartan green porphyry) slab «grows green and imitates in rock the soft grass» (Silvae I, 2, 90f.). Of green marbles, the three most important varieties are Greek: Spartan porphyry or serpentine, Carystian cipollino and Thessalian verde antico. All three are important in Hagia Sophia. Next to purple porphyry, green porphyry was the most expensive stone and it was much in demand for panels.27 Because of its veins, cipollino was well suited for book-matching where a slab was sliced in two or four and fitted together so that symmetrical patterns were formed along the central axis (a spina) with the left and right half appearing

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION 7. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, decorative system of wall revetments (photo Author). 8. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, porphyry panel framed by book-matched bianco e nero (photo Author).

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9. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, gallery, capital and arch with opus sectile design (photo Author).

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like mirrored images of each other [5]. The compactness of verde antico made this stone particularly suitable for structural use, foremost for column shafts. Most columns in Hagia Sophia are monoliths made of this compact stone resistant to mechanical stress [6].28 Green stones vary in colour from the palest to the darkest hues. Still, it is difficult to pinpoint precise hues in marbles. Moreover, a single block can vary in appearance from pale to dark. Because of the fleeting colours, the surface of the stone is experienced as dynamic, the various patterns making illusion of movement.29 Indeed the visual qualities of the coloured stones are dynamic and not in the least petrified. The floating patterns of the stones and their illusive sheen combine to give the material a shimmering, almost mystical quality. There is but little new in this way of perceiving the visual properties of colour. The perception of the characteristics of coloured marble, as expressed by Byzantine writers, is largely a legacy from earlier Antiquity. A dynamic con-

cept of colour is met with already in Homer, where movement and colour are inextricably linked.30 Thus Homer uses the word porphy´reos not foremost in the sense of colour, but about the waves of the ocean, and the swelling of the sea (Il. IV,16): porphy´ro indicates that the sea heaves, surges and swirls.31 Even though Homer employs the term for other phenomena than the ones recounted in Byzantine sources, they share some common concepts of colour. It has been argued that most colour words originally were verbs of motion, a circumstance that is apparent in the Byzantine ekphraseis. Although the poetic expressions plausibly reached new heights with the growing splendour and costliness of the materials put to use, the appreciation of colour and shine presumably did not change fundamentally over the centuries.32 Juxtaposition of marbles Each individual marble possesses its particular visual characteristics in terms of colour, veining and splendour. The visual potentials of individual


marbles are further emphasized in the juxtaposing of different hues, and by setting them off by various framing devices.33 For the vertical surfaces, the basic design consists of a dado course over which the wall is divided into three main zones, separated by horizontal bands in verde antico, giallo antico, or cipollino rosso. Upright panels of pavonazzetto, porphyry, bianco e nero and green cipollino accentuate the wall vertically. These panels differ in width. For instance, the veneers of the large piers in the upper and lower zones contain a large central book-matched cipollino slab framed by pavonazzetto, while the central zone shows narrow porphyry slabs flanked by pavonazzetto or bianco e nero [7]. One criterion for the choice of marbles seems to be that stones from all three continents should, as far as possible, be represented (cf. the Silentiary’s catalogue), and that these stones should be conjoined so that the various patterns and colours were put to their best advantage. By combining different lithotypes, the artists created a varied surface. Variation

was provided by cutting and matching the stones in different ways, especially book-matching.34 Rhythm was created in the interplay between various hues and striations and in the alternation of horizontal bands and upright panels. The challenge lay in striking a balance: the veneers served to structure the wall, and yet they were also required to negate the solidity of the very walls they covered.35 In Hagia Sophia the stone that draws attention to itself is the purple porphyry. Since the Egyptian quarries were abandoned in the midfifth century, this stone was not in as abundant supply as, for instance, pavonazzetto; in fact it was not newly quarried for Hagia Sophia, but consisted of second hand material. Most porphyry was probably reused from the Constantinian and Theodosian building phases of the church. Yet, the artists exploited the material to its best advantage making it appear more abundant than it actually was; thus even though merely a small percentage of the walls had areas of porphyry, by lining the panels with an eye-

10. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, capital and arch with undercutting (photo Author).

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11. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, opus sectile panels in main apse (photo Author).

catching device in the form of a contrasting border of white marble, the purple colour stood out.36 Since areas of highest contrast attract the eye, a solid plane of deep purple lined with an undercut thin strip of white creates a striking colour and form contrast. Moreover, the eyes are drawn to details, here provided by the intricate à jour carving [8]. The delicate framing of panels with thin strips of marble undercut to make them appear like fine lace, in ambiguous manner accentuates the wall, and yet gives the impression of something fragile and airy. This open work technique was extended to capitals and entablatures. Inlaid marbles (opus sectile) In Hagia Sophia the entablatures of the ground floor show undercut white marble acanthus, while in the galleries the surfaces of the spandrels display foliate scrolls in opus sectile. Paul the Silentiary contrasts the different techniques in the two storeys, starting from above: «the artist, weaving together with his hands thin

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slabs of marble, has figured (egrapse) upon the walls connected arcs laden with fruit, basket and leaves, (...) birds perched on boughs.» (Descr., vv. 648-652). This is an accurate description of what can actually still be seen in the church [9]. Below, on the ground floor, there is «a tapestry of wavy acanthus, a wandering contexture of spiky points, all golden (...)» (vv. 658-661, transl. Mango).37 One notes the emphasis on movement: wavy acanthus, wandering spikes. This is also verified by autopsy, except that the polychromy, suggested by the word golden, no longer remains [10]. In the late Byzantine Chora church is evidence of gilded capitals, and it is therefore reasonable to assume that this could also have been the case in Hagia Sophia.38 The birds and other details are difficult to make out from a distance. Thus it might seem a paradox that the sectile technique was chosen for the galleries rather than for the ground floor.39 Since the sectile mosaic was combined with tesselated mosaics of vine on a golden ground in the intrados of the arches, it may

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION 12. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, Proconessian marble slab displaying a configuration (photo Author).

have been intended to form a gradual transition from the sculpted parts of the decorations to the areas covered by mosaics.40 Because of the vast wall surfaces in the Great Church, the various sectile designs placed in borders and smaller panels are to some extent overshadowed by the many other visual intricacies that compete for the viewer’s attention [11]. Paul the Silentiary makes clear that utmost attention was paid to designs and material and to the execution of even the smallest detail. But given the plethora of visual stimuli in the church, how could one put the visitor in the proper frame of mind to be able to fully comprehend the greatness of it all? One strategy was the use of natural metaphors to evoke aesthetic response.

METAPHOR AND MEANING A main characteristic of marble is that it contains a variety of hues. But the veins and stria-

tions are not only aesthetically pleasing; they also form patterns, at times suggestive of various images ranging from the abstract to the anthropomorphic.41 As Paul the Silentiary writes: «The joining of the cut marbles looks like (isazetai) painting for you can see the veins of the stones that have been divided into four or eight meet to form a configuration» (Descr., vv. 607-610).42 A controversial aspect of Byzantine aesthetics is the relation of art to nature.43 When Paul notes that the joining of the cut marbles looks like paintings, this is not the conventional mimesis relation according to which art imitates nature (Arist., Meteor. 381b 8: «mimeitai gar he techne ten physin»), but rather the apparently opposite claim that nature imitates art. Still, a picture may by chance be formed in a block of marble, while from another block an artist creates by design a visual impression which looks like a natural phenomenon (cf. Aristoteles’ discussion of techne and physis: nature creates a tree, the artist creates techne of the hyle which 19

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is in the tree).44 The conceptual distinction of techne and physis is blurred: art can imitate and complete the possibilities of nature, and nature can imitate art, when she «like a painter varies with the most contrasting colours» (Procop., Aed. I, 1, 60). The visual effects produced by the exotic stones are described in Byzantine sources in terms of the rhythmical flow of a river, and of green meadows and flowers: «One might imagine that one had come upon a meadow with its flowers in full bloom» (Procop., Aed. I, 1, 59). Paul the Silentiary likens columns to green stalks topped by golden hair, chrysokomoi (Descr., v. 544), a simile that springs readily to mind since columns have always been perceived as organic elements. The acanthus capitals invited to the use of nature similes, and gilding could easily turn into golden hair, since kome suggests the hair of the head as well as the foliage of a tree (cf. Od. XXIII, 195). One may also recall that Vitruvius (IV, 1) anthropomorphized columns and capitals, comparing the flutes of the Ionic shaft to the folds of a female dress and the volutes to a graceful female hairstyle. What appears to many a modern viewer as a purely abstract form, Byzantine writers describe in terms of natural images.45 At first this may seem like different ways of seeing; however, one should not take the ekphrastic expressions verbatim. In order to address the question of Byzantine ‘naturalism’, the reasons for the choices of specific words and expressions should be considered. One may distinguish between, on the one hand, the metaphorical uses of nature, as when Procopius likens the interior of the church to a meadow, and, on the other hand, anthropomorphism, when the veining of a slab is seen to take on human form (Plin., NH XXXVI,14: a block at Paros containing an image of a silenus). Different again is the description of images as lifelike, as when the ninth-century patriarch Photios notes that it seemed to him as if the Virgin in the apse mosaic was a living and breathing woman about to speak (Homil. XVII). While the approaches of these writers to some extent are related, their function differs. It is unlikely that Procopius found that the church interior looked like a meadow. This simile answers the rhetorical question: «Who could recount the beauty of the columns and the marbles with which the church is adorned?» (Aed. 20

I, 1, 59). What Procopius aimed for was an image that suited the impression of something vibrant and beautiful. Since colour terms derive from verbs of motion, a metaphor like Paul’s «the limped calm upon the blue-grey sea, whipped to foam by the sailors oar» is less far out than it might first appear. Not only the colour but the very material may conjure up this kind of metaphorical association, one of the meanings of marmarein being light dancing on the surface of the sea (Il. XIV, 273).46 As opposed to Pliny the Elder, Paul is not a natural historian, but a court dignitary and a poet: his purpose is to make the listener alert to the overwhelming beauty of the church, to arouse the senses. The Silentiary to some extent guides the viewer through the visual landscape by means of natural metaphor. Similarly, Procopius aims to build mental patterns that are stimulating: the verbal metaphors activate the conceptual metaphors and images are stimulated in the listeners mind. To perceive imagery in the veining of marble is not a peculiar Byzantine way of seeing [12]. The naturalization of the material properties of marble voiced in Byzantium was taken one step further in the pietra paesina, the Florentine stones which were seen to reveal images of landscapes and buildings. Taking their point of departure in these natural images formed by chance and complementing nature by adding other elements the artists blurred the line between abstraction and representation.47 Similarly in the eighteenth century the English landscape painter Alexander Cozens noted that «when you look upon the odd appearance of some streaked stones, you may discover several things like landscapes, battles, clouds, uncommon attitudes and humorous faces».48 Human beings have a propensity to see faces in objects. Recent scientific experiments have shown that subjects not infrequently report seeing recognizable objects in non-representational paintings, suggesting that the modern viewer response is not all that different from the ancient one.49 As for lifelikeness: Photios describes the image of the Mother of God in Hagia Sophia in terms of a woman capable of speaking, and claims that her lips have been made flesh by the colours (Homil. XVII, 2). The patriarch certainly did not intend to make a stylistic judgment of the mosaic; nor could he have seen Mary in the way he presents her, as she is placed


high up in the apse and Photios would not have been able to make out details [13].50 The idea of lifelike representation is a conventional way of describing the quality of a work of art; compare the anecdote about the grapes of Zeuxis (Plin., NH, XXXV, 65). The persuasive rendering of an image is conveyed in terms of illusion of life. But in the eyes of the patriarch the persuasiveness of the image was not an aesthetic but a religious matter; by his choice of words he voiced the special qualities of Mary, both a mortal woman and mother of God, Theotokos. While the ecclesiastical space of Hagia Sophia was the common denominator for

Photios, Procopius and Paul the Silentiary, the specific contexts were different: Photios delivered his homily shortly after the end of iconoclasm. The ekphraseis of Procopius and Paul had a different scope: their main purpose was to eulogize emperor Justinian by eulogizing the splendour of his most splendid church.51

13. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, apse mosaic of Virgin and Child enthroned (photo Author).

PSYCHOAESTHETICS IN BYZANTIUM The ancient viewer’s experience of Hagia Sophia was obviously different from that of the present-day visitor who sees the site one and a 21

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14. Istanbul, Hagia Sophia, interior in May 2011 (photo Author).

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half millennium later, the building of Justinian having gone through several transformations, from church to mosque, and from mosque to museum [14].52 Nonetheless, what happens in the eyes and in the brain of an attentive twentyfirst century beholder may not be all that different from what happened in those of the sixthcentury one. For instance, it is hardly surprising that recent research has documented that people are inclined to find symmetrical patterns more pleasing than asymmetrical ones.53 This suggests a possible reason for the time-consuming practice of dividing and book-matching slabs: like the modern viewer, the Byzantine viewer preferred a symmetrical to a non-symmetrical image. Accordingly it may be pertinent to investigate whether psychobiological and neuroaesthetic research can throw light on medieval responses to visual imagery.54

Global impression and focal attention One branch of psychobiological research on the aesthetic response to art distinguishes between different kinds of viewing, namely initial and subsequent viewing: in initial viewing the eye tries to get a general impression of the visual field in a short diversive exploration, where the eye does not fix for long, before the more interesting spots are singled out for closer scrutiny. The initial glance at a scene gives a global impression which is followed by more directed viewing or focal attention, where the eye concentrates on a specific location.55 Initial viewing or global impression is also referred to as diversive or dispersed, while the focal attention is called specific or directed viewing.56 Is it possible to apply the idea of these types of perceptual exploration to the aesthetic responses of the Medieval viewer?


Actually, it turns out that the findings of modern scientific research are foreshadowed by the observations of early Byzantine writers. The early-sixth century rhetorician Choricius of Gaza describes the church of St. Sergius at Gaza in the following terms: «When you enter the church, you will be staggered by the variety of the spectacle. Eager as you are to see everything at once, you will depart not having seen anything properly, since your gaze darts hither and thither in your attempt not to leave anything unobserved: for you will think that in leaving something out you will have missed the best» (Laud. Marc. I, 23).57 The gaze darting in all directions, unable to fix for long, conforms to diversive exploration. By contrast, entering the church of St. Stephen some years later, Choricius illustrates the principles of specific viewing: «the east side, with its elaborate craftsmanship (…) attracted me to itself before I had gone through the other parts» (Laud. Marc. II, 37). This is an instance of focal attention, with a specific part of the church being subject to more concentrated viewing. In reference to Hagia Sophia, Procopius presents what sounds like a cognitive tuck of war between the specific and the diversive modes of viewing. The various parts of the interior «do not allow the spectators to rest their gaze upon any one of them for a length of time, but each detail attracts the eye and draws it irresistibly to itself.» He continues: «the vision constantly shifts round, for the beholders are quite unable to select any particular element which they should admire more than all the others» (Aed. I, 1. 48, transl. adapt. from Mango and Dewing58). In other words the spectators fail in focal attention. Procopius then points to a different experience: «No matter how much they concentrate their attention, and examine every detail with contracted eyebrows (...)» indicating that the spectators have now gone from diversive to specific exploration. Nevertheless, in the end they are «unable to understand the craftsmanship and always depart from there astonished (katapeplegmenoi) by the perplexing sight». In sum, the viewer’s gaze is mostly bound to remain dispersed. The problem of focalising and concentrating is reiterated by Photius: the visitor to the church of the Virgin of the Pharos is first taken in by the beautiful marbles of the atrium: «Arresting and turning towards themselves the spectator’s gaze, they make him unwilling to

move further in; but taking his fill of the fair spectacle in the very atrium, and fixing his eyes on the sight before him, the visitor stands as if rooted to the ground» (Homil. X. 4, transl. Mango59). Inside the church, however, it becomes more difficult to focus one’s attention: because of «the variegated spectacle on all sides» the spectator’s experience is that of «whirling about in all directions and being constantly astir» (Homil. X, 5). In the viewing of Hagia Sophia and other holy places, the diversive and specific modes of aesthetic viewing serve different ends. When the church is presented as an example of the earthly power and might of the emperor, it is pertinent to mention the particular stones Justinian has procured from all over the empire and beyond, and point to the greatness of material and craftsmanship. Now the eye of the beholder should focus on the features pointed out by the poet: the richness of the decoration, the excellent craftsmanship, and some particularly fine elements of the interior. In addition to the aesthetic message of the stone, the politico-ideological side should not be disregarded. Considering the stones used in Hagia Sophia and before that those employed in Anicia Juliana’s church of St. Polyeuktos, it becomes apparent that the procuring of exotic material from faraway places was an accomplishment. The splendour of Justinian’s church further underlines the alleged point of «Solomon (and Juliana!) I have outdone you».60 By mapping the stones, one is mapping the extent of the empire: in addition to their beauty and costliness, these marbles from all over the world make a territorial display of imperial power and might.61 However, when the eye of the beholder remains dispersed, the church can be perceived as an expression of the power of God and His presence: the viewer departs amazed by the perplexing spectacle, as Procopius noted, or, as Photius put it, the visitor is whirling about in all directions and being constantly astir, because, as Choricius had explained: the eye is forced to wander, and it is difficult to devote the attention to any particular feature.62 Like these eyewitnesses experienced it, the visitor is overwhelmed by the beauty and unable to fathom what he is witnessing. Simple and specific viewing For centuries philosophers and art historians have discussed the nature of aesthetic 23

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experience and the problems of defining aesthetic properties.63 Interestingly recent neuroaesthetic research has documented that different parts of the brain are activated according to whether an art work is viewed in a socalled simple or in a so-called aesthetic manner. Experiments have shown that a different set of neural processes is engaged when subjects contemplate the aesthetic properties of visual images as opposed to when they just see them in the simple way.64 The Byzantines were unable to perform an fMRI scan or use other scientific equipment to study which parts of the brain were activated when contemplating the aesthetic properties of, for instance, marbles or church interiors. But even so they were aware of the difference between simply observing and actually comprehending. For this they distinguished between idein, to see, and noein, to comprehend, or, one might say, to view with the brain.65 Unlike the Pantheon in Rome, Hagia Sophia does not consist of a single unified space which the beholder can perceive as a whole, from cupola to floor, from centre to periphery. By contrast, in Hagia Sophia, whether seen from the naos, from the aisles, or from the galleries, much of the interior is cut off visually, leaving many parts of the building concealed. This spatial structure makes the building intriguing and consequently difficult to fully comprehend. In a large and complex visual field such as the interior of Hagia Sophia, a text presented in a visually stimulating manner could help to put the listener in the proper frame of mind. The yellow stone comes alive when Paul recounts that the golden colour is warmed by the sun; and then in a vivid contrast, the listener is made to feel cold at the thought of the icy cracks that have fostered another stone. By directing attention to specific points and topics, Paul manipulates viewer response. Most importantly, the spectator should not simply register the presence of certain features, but make a conscious effort to view these in the required manner, that is, view them with the brain. Returning to the marble catalogue from where the article took off, it can be proposed that the catalogue is important for containing information of different kind and at different levels: factual information anchors the stones in reality making the description convincingly truthful. These are real marbles that can be found in the church. It is also relevant to tell 24

from where the stones are procured, since there is a significant difference between «green stone» and «green Thessalian stone», a mark of quality. At the purely material level, then, the building displays an abundance of highly expensive marbles, tokens of wealth and status. At the symbolic level these stones are indices of empire and power. Finally, at the religious level, the shifting and shimmering colours of the panels reflect the mysterious, partly veiled nature of the architectural space. With their special qualities, the marbles are adequate symbols of the things that can not easily be comprehended (noein).

THE MATERIAL AND THE SPIRITUAL As the Hagia Sophia revetments show, the Byzantines were highly aware of the aesthetic properties of marbles. As the written sources confirm, they were also aware of different ways of approaching these marbles, different ways of seeing and interpreting them. In the ecclesiastical context, the two types of aesthetic viewing – by modern research named specific (focal) and dispersed (global) – serve different ends. In specific or focal viewing the spectator’s attention is directed to the emperor’s realm: the expensive marbles procured from all three continents, the excellent craftsmanship and the artistic quality. The viewer zooms in on selected features and focuses his or her attention on those. Conversely, in dispersed or global viewing, the eyes never rest but are constantly astir, wandering here, there and everywhere: the church is seen as an expression of incomprehensible heavenly splendour. The church was conceived as a model of heaven on earth, as a microcosm, a miniature reflection of the great cosmos.66 The naturalistic metaphors to some extent implied a parallel between earthly techne and heavenly creation: God created nature; the artists and architects imitated God by fashioning something beautiful out of nature-given materials. This explains the importance of sheer craftsmanship, of the very proficiency and akribeia in the fashioning of the building and its furnishings. The exquisite craftsmanship was important in order to suggest that Hagia Sophia, even though made by human hand, was indeed a creation of divine inspiration. By exploring the aesthetic properties of the material world, the Byzantine artists gave form and colour to the spiritual one.

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION NOTES Cf. B. KIILERICH, The Aesthetics of Marble and Coloured Stone, «Proceedings of the XXIst International Congress of Byzantine Studies, London, 21-26 August 2006», edited by E. Jeffreys, II, Abstracts of Panel Papers, London 2006, pp. 238-239. 2 R. MACRIDES, P. MAGDALINO, The Architecture of Ekphrasis: Construction and Context of Paul the Silentiary’s Ekphrasis of Hagia Sophia, «Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies», XII (1988), pp. 47-82. For the date, M. WHITBY, The Occasion of Paul the Silentiary’s Ekphrasis of S. Sophia, «Classical Quarterly», XXXV (1985), pp. 215-228. 3 P. FRIEDLÄNDER, Johannes von Gaza, Paulus Silentiarius und Prokopios von Gaza, Berlin 1912 (repr. Hildesheim 1969), pp. 225-305; C. MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312-1453. Sources and Documents, Englewood Cliffs 1972, pp. 80-96; M.-C. FAYANT, P. CHUVIN, Paul le Silentiaire, Description de Sainte Sophie de Constantinople, Paris 1997; M.L. FOBELLI, Un tempio per Giustiniano. Santa Sofia di Costantinopoli e la Descrizione di Paolo Silenziario, Roma 2005. 4 R.J. MAINSTONE, Hagia Sophia: Architecture, Structure and Liturgy of Justinian’s Great Church, New York 1988, provides detailed description of structural features, but does not specify the lithotypes. Other authors, such as H. KÄHLER, Hagia Sophia, New York 1967, p. 45, J. BECKWITH, Early Christian and Byzantine Art, Harmondsworth 1970, p. 46, and W.E. KLEINBAUER ET ALII, Hagia Sophia, London 2004, p. 33, cite the Silentiary, proving the efficacy of his words. 5 Marble will be used in this article as a general term for coloured stones, disregarding whether or not they are marble according to a strict geological classification. For Paul’s verses, see FRIEDLÄNDER, Johannes von Gaza, Paulus Silentiarius, pp. 244-245, commentaries, p. 285; MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, pp. 85-86; FOBELLI, Un tempio per Giustiniano, pp. 72-73, with commentaries pp. 150-153. 6 For the various marbles and their characteristics, see R. GNOLI, Marmora romana, Roma 1971 (2nd ed. 1988); L. LAZZARINI, La determinazione della provenienza delle pietre decorative usate dei romani, in I marmi colorati della Roma imperiale, a cura di M. De Nuccio et Alii, Venezia 2002, pp. 223-265; Marmi antichi, a cura di G. Borghini, Roma 1989 (5th reprint 2004); L. LAZZARINI ET ALII, Pietre e marmi antichi. Natura, caratterizzazione, origine, storia d’uso, diffusione, collezionismo, Padova 2004; ID., Poikiloi lithoi, versiculores maculae: i marmi colorati della Grecia Antica («Marmora», 2/2006, suppl. 1), Pisa 2007; M.T. PRICE, Decorative Stone. The Complete Sourcebook, London 2007. 7 A. LAMBRAKI, Le cipolin de la Karystie. Contribution à l’étude des marbres de la Gréce exploités aux époques romaine et paléochrétienne, «Revue archéologique», (1980), pp. 31-62; LAZZARINI, Poikiloi lithoi, pp. 183-203; Marmi antichi, no. 56. 8 J. RÖDER, Marmor Phrygium. Die antiken Marmorbrüche von Iscehisar in West Anatolien, «Jahrbuch des deutchen archäologischen Instituts», LXXXVI (1971), pp. 253-312; Marmi antichi, no. 109. 9 M.J. KLEIN, Untersuchungen zu den kaiserlichen Steinbrüchen an Mons Porphyrites und Mons Claudianus in der 1

östlichen Wüste Aegypten, Bonn 1988; The Roman Imperial Quarries: Survey and Excavation at Mons Porphyrites 1994-1998, edited by V. Maxfield and D. Peacock, London 2001; Porphyre. Les secrets de la pierre pourpre (catalogue de l’exposition, Musée du Louvre, 21 novembre 2003- 16 février 2004), Paris 2003; Marmi antichi, no.116. 10 Marmi antichi, no. 121; U. ZEZZA, L. LAZZARINI, Krokeatis Lithos (Lapis Lacedaemonius): Source, History of Use, Scientific Characterization, in «ASMOSIA VI, Proceedings of the 6th International Conference of the Association for the Study of Marble and Other Stones in Antiquity, Venice, June 15-18, 2000», edited by L. Lazzarini et Alii, Padova 2002, pp. 259-264. 11 Marmi antichi, no. 59; PRICE, Decorative Stones, pp. 120121. 12 Marmi antichi, no. 107; PRICE, Decorative Stones, p. 111, breccia corallina. 13 F. RAKOB ET ALII, Simitthus I. Die Steinbrüche und die antike Stadt, Mainz 1993; Marmi antichi, no. 65; PRICE, Decorative Stones, pp. 90-91. 14 Marmi antichi, no. 14; PRICE, Decorative Stones, p. 82. 15 Marmi antichi, no. 4; M. DE ANGELIS D’OSSAT, Gli alabastri, in Palazzo Altemps. I colori del Fasto. La Domus del Gianicolo e i suoi marmi, a cura di F. Filippi, Milano 2005, pp. 80-87. 16 GNOLI, Marmi, pp. 162-165; Marmi antichi, no. 130; LAZZARINI, Poikiloi lithoi, pp. 223-244; L. LAZZARINI, S. CANCELLIERE, Marmor Thessalicum (verde antico): Source, Distribution and Characterization, in «ASMOSIA VII, Proceedings of the 7th International Conference of the Association for the Study of Marble and Other Stones in Antiquity, Thassos, 15-20 september, 2003» («BCH suppl.» LI), études réunies par Y. Maniatis, Athènes 2009, pp. 495-508. V. MELFOS, Green Thessalian Stone: The Byzantine Quarries and the Use of a Unique Architectural Material from the Larisa Area, Greece. Petrographic and Geochemical Characterization, «Oxford Journal of Archaeology», XXVII (2008), 4, pp. 387-405. 17 R.M. HARRISON, A Temple for Byzantium. The Discovery and Excavation of Anicia Juliana’s Palace Church in Istanbul, Austin 1989, figs. 80-81, except for cipollino and alabaster, shows fragments of all the Silentiary’s lithotypes, including Proconnesian and white Docimian. 18 Choricius presents the stones in the church of St. Sergius at Gaza in the following order: Proconnesian, Lacedaemonian, Carystian, Sagarian, Caryan and Thessalian (Laud. Marc. I, 41-42), MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, pp. 63-64, i.e., white, green, green, red, red and green. It is uncertain whether this is an intended or random rhythm. 19 N. ISAR, ‘Choros of Light’: Vision of the sacred in Paulus the Silentiary’s Poem Descriptio S. Sophiae, «Byzantinische Forschungen», XXVIII (2004), pp. 215-242; EAD., Chorography (Chôra, Chorós) – A Performance Paradigm of Creation of Sacred Space in Byzantium, in Hierotopy. The Creation of Sacred Spaces in Byzantium and Medieval Russia, edited by A. Lidov, Moscow 2006, pp. 59-90: 6977. 20 Poikilía means marking with various colours, weaving, embroidering, diversity, variety, ornamentation. For a discussion, see M. ROBERTS, The Jewelled Style. Poetry and Poetics in Late Antiquity, Ithaca 1989, pp. 66-121.

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BENTE KIILERICH PROCOPIUS OF CAESAREA, Buildings («LCL», 343: Procopius, VII), with an English translation by H.B. Dewing, Cambridge Mass. 1954; G.A. MANSUELLI, La “Ekphrasis” sulla S. Sofia nel peri ktismaton di Procopio di Cesarea, I, 1-78, in Studi in memoria di Giuseppe Bovini, I, Ravenna 1989, pp. 345-354; R. WEBB, Ekphrasis, Amplification and Persuasion in Procopius’ Buildings, «Antiquité Tardive», VIII (2000), pp. 67-71. For other aspects of Procopius’ Buildings, see the articles, ivi, pp. 7180; J. ELSNER, The Rhetoric of Buildings in the de Aedificiis of Procopius, in Art and Text in Byzantine Culture, edited by L. James, Cambridge 2007, pp. 33-57. 22 M. REINHOLD, History of Purple as a Status Symbol in Antiquity («Collection Latomus», 116), Brussels 1970; G. STEIGERWALD, Das kaiserliche Purpurprivileg in spätrömischer und frühbyzantinischer Zeit, «Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum», XXXIII (1990), pp. 209-239; La porpora: realtà e immaginario di un colore simbolico, «Atti del convegno di studi, Venezia, 24-25 ottobre 1996», a cura di O. Longo, Venezia 1998; M. BRADLEY, Colour and Meaning in Ancient Rome, Cambridge 2009, pp. 189-211. For purple and imperial garments see, B. KIILERICH, Attire and Personal Appearance, in Byzantine Days of the Capital (Istanbul, May 2010), edited by D. Sakel et Alii (forthcoming). 23 J. ANDRÉ, Étude sur les termes de couleur dans la langue latine, Paris 1949, for purpureus as violet: pp. 94-96, as red: pp. 96-97, as brilliant: pp. 97-100. R. EDGEWORTH, Does ‘purpureus’ mean ‘bright’?, «Glotta», LVII (1979), pp. 281291, argues that there is no proof of purpureus meaning bright, and that it should usually be translated as red or purple. 24 J. GAGE, Colour in History: Relative and absolute, «Art History», I (1978), pp. 104-130: 108, and ID., Colour and Culture. Practice and Meaning from Antiquity to Abstraction, London 1993, pp. 71-72. 25 In Diocletian’s Price Edict of 301, giallo antico is priced as pavonazzetto, only the porphyries were more expensive, see S. LAUFFER, Diokletian’s Preisedikt, Berlin 1971, ch. 33, pp. 192-193. Cost and production is further discussed in B. KIILERICH, The Opus sectile from Porta Marina at Ostia and the Aesthetics of Interior Decoration, in Production and Prosperity in the Theodosian Age, edited by I. Jacobs et Alii, Leuven (forthcoming). 26 L. JAMES, Light and Colour in Byzantine Art, New York 1995, p. 79. 27 For the cost, LAUFFER, Diokletian’s Preisedikt, ch. 33. 28 MELFOS, Green Thessalian Stone, p. 392, fig. 4b shows a m 9 high hollow for the extraction of a column, presumably for Hagia Sophia. 29 R. WEBB, Aesthetics of Sacred Space: Narrative, Metaphor, and Motion in Ekphraseis of Church Buildings, «Dumbarton Oaks Papers», LIII (1999), pp. 59-74; F. BARRY, Walking on Water. Cosmic Floors in Antiquity and the Middle Ages, «The Art Bulletin», LXXXIX (2007), 4, pp. 627-656. 30 R. D’AVINO, La visione del colore nella terminologia greca, «Ricerche linguistiche», IV (1958), pp. 99-134; E. SCHWARZENBERG, Colour, Light and Transparency in the Greek World, in Medieval Mosaics, Light, Colour, Materials, edited by E. Borsook et Alii, Milano 2000, pp. 15-34. 31 SCHWARZENBERG, Colour, pp. 21-23. 32 For the Classical Greek attitude to colour, see J.J. 21

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POLLITT, Peri chromaton: What Ancient Greek Painters thought about Colors, in Color in Ancient Greece, edited by M.A. Tiverios and D.S. Tsiafakis, Thessaloniki 2002, pp. 18. See also A.V. LEVIDES, Why did Plato not suffer of Color Blindness? An Interpretation of the Passage of Color Blending in Timaeus, ivi, pp. 9-21. 33 A. KLENERT, Die Inkrustation der Hagia Sophia. Zur Entwicklung der Inkrustationsschemata im römischen Kaiserreich, Münster 1979, pp. 7-44, provides a description of the decorative system employed in Hagia Sophia. She concludes, p. 99, that its Wandgliederungsschema derives from the Roman basilica. M.L. FOBELLI, La Santa Sofia di Costantinopoli nell’età di Giustiniano: sistemi decorativi e strategia delle immagini, in Medioevo: immagini e ideologie, «Atti del Convegno internazionale di studi, Parma, 23-27 settembre 2002», a cura di A.C. Quintavalle, Milano 2005, pp. 90-99. 34 Fine examples of book-matched panels in rosso antico are preserved in S. Vitale, although some have been rearranged, see I. FIORENTINI, P. ORIOLI, I marmi antichi di San Vitale, Faenza (RA) 2003, pp. 32-37. The mirrored image effect is slightly reminiscent of that produced by ink blots in the psychological test devised by Hermann Rorschach in 1921. 35 KLEINERT, Inkrustation, mentions some of the combinations, but does not address the possible principles behind. P.A. MICHELIS, An Aesthetic Approach to Byzantine Art, London 1955 (2nd ed. 1964), pp. 95-99, stresses the importance of the surface and of dematerilization. 36 Purple could also be obtained by optical mixing: to obtain the desired effect, the artists in the Rotunda of St. George at Thessaloniki placed orange and red cubes next to blue ones. Seen from a distance, the colours blended and gave the impression of purple, B. KIILERICH, Picturing Ideal Beauty: The Saints in the Rotunda at Thessaloniki, «Antiquité tardive», XV (2007), pp. 321-336: 334-336. For other questions of colour, see M. CAGIANO DE AZEVEDO, Policromia e polimateria nelle opere d’arte della tarda antichità e dell’alto medioevo, «Felix Ravenna», s. 4, CI (1970), 1, pp. 223-259; B. KIILERICH, Monochromy, Dichromy and Polychromy in Byzantine Art, in Festschrift Jan Olof Rosenqvist, edited by D. Sears, Uppsala 2012, pp. 169-183. 37 MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, p. 86. 38 Gilding, e.g., KLEINBAUER ET ALII, Hagia Sophia, p. 34; FOBELLI, Un tempio, p. 134; for the Chora: R. OUSTERHOUT, The Art of the Kariye Camii, London 2002, p. 101. 39 For a comprehensive discussion of opus sectile wall revetment, see P. ASSIMAKOPOULOU-ATZAKA, I techniki opus sectile stin entoichia diakosmisi, Thessaloniki 1980, with Hagia Sophia pp. 97-101. 40 The decoration of the church consists of many elements, for the sculpture, see A. GUIGLIA GUIDOBALDI, C. BARSANTI ET ALII, Santa Sofia di Costantinopoli. L’arredo marmoreo della Grande Chiesa giustinianea («Studi di Antichità Cristiana», Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana 60), Città del Vaticano 2004. 41 M.L. FOBELLI, Descrizione e percezione delle immagini acheropite sui marmi bizantini, in Immagine e Ideologia. Studi in onore di Arturo Carlo Quintavalle, a cura di A. Calzona et Alii, Milano 2007, pp. 27-32. Some of the faces that surface in book-matched slabs were published already by E.M. ANTONIADIS, Ekphrasis tis Agias Sophias, Athens 1908.

THE AESTHETIC VIEWING OF MARBLE IN BYZANTIUM: FROM GLOBAL IMPRESSION TO FOCAL ATTENTION MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, p. 85, takes tetratómos and oktatómos as square and octagonal. Likewise FOBELLI, Un tempio, p. 71: «lastre quadrate e ottagonali»; however, the meaning might be slabs divided in four or eight as in book-matching. Mango’s translation of zeugnumenas kata kosmon homou: «so as to form devices» catches the material aspects, but not the aesthetic and spiritual connotations of kosmos, which denotes order and beauty (MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, p. 85). 43 R. NELSON, To say and to see. Ekphrasis and Vision in Byzantium, in Visuality before and beyond the Renaissance. Seeing as Others Saw, edited by Id., Cambridge 2000, pp. 143-168. 44 J.J. POLLITT, The Ancient View of Greek Art: Criticism, History and Terminology, Yale 1974, pp. 32-37. 45 J. ONIANS, Abstraction and Imagination in Late Antiquity, «Art History», III (1980), pp. 1-23: 9: «(...) the inhabitants of sixth century Byzantium genuinely saw the colour and figuration of marble as representing other things (...)». Further, p. 11: «He could look at something which was in twentieth-century terms purely abstract and find it representational»; J. TRILLING, Daedalus and the Nightingale: Art and Technology in the Myth of the Byzantine Court, in Byzantine Court Culture from 829 to 1204, edited by H. Maguire, Washington D.C. 1997, pp. 217-230: 227: «the Byzantines considered their pictorial art naturalistic (...)»; cf. ID., The Image not made by Hands and the Byzantine Way of Seeing, in The Holy Face and the Paradox of Representation, edited by H.L. Kessler and G. Wolf, Bologna 1998, pp. 109-127: 121: «it would no more occur to us to compare columns to flowering trees than to admire sixth-century ornament for its naturalism.» 46 BARRY, Walking on Water. Muslim architects reused Byzantine marble veneering in their mosques, and they also took over the natural metaphors, M. MILRIGHT, ‘Waves of the Sea’: Responses to Marble in written Sources (Ninth-Fifteenth Centuries), in The Iconography of Islamic Art, edited by B. O’Kane, Edinburgh 2005, pp. 211-221. 47 E.g., J. WAMBERG, Art as the Fulfilment of Nature. Rockformations in Ferrarese Quattrocento Painting, in La corte di Ferrara e il suo mecenatismo, a cura di M. Pade et Alii, Copenhagen-Ferrara 1990, pp. 210-227; P. MOREL, Les grottes maniéristes en Italie au XVIe siècle, Paris 1998, chap. 2: Petrification, pp. 43-65. 48 A. COZENS, A New Method of Assisting the Invention of Drawing Original Compositions of Landscape, London 1785, p. 5; C.A. CRAMER, Alexander Cozens’s New Method: The Blot and General Nature, «The Art Bulletin», LXXIX (1997), pp. 112-129. 49 A. ISHAI ET ALII, Perception, Memory and Aesthetics of Indeterminate Art, «Brain Research Bulletin», LXXIII (2007), pp. 319-324: 320. 50 T. HÄGG, Konstverksekfrasen som litterär genre och konstvetenskaplig källa, in Bysans och Norden («Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis. Figura», 23), edited by E. Piltz, Uppsala 1989, pp. 37-50; NELSON, To Say and to See, pp. 146-151; L. JAMES, Senses and Sensibility in Byzantium, «Art History», XXVII (2004), 4, pp. 522-537. 51 NELSON, To Say and to See, and MACRIDES, MAGDALINO, The Architecture of Ekphrasis, emphasize the importance of the historical context. 42

For the later history of the building, see Hagia Sophia from the Age of Justinian to the Present, edited by R. Mark and A.S. Çakmak, Cambridge 1992; R. NELSON, Hagia Sophia 1850-1950: Holy Wisdom, Holy Monument, Chicago 2004. 53 See, e.g., T. JACOBSEN ET ALII, Brain Correlates of Aesthetic Judgments of Beauty, «Neuroimage», XXIX (2005), pp. 276-285. 54 For some recent general studies, see L. MAFFEI, A. FIORENTINI, Arte e cervello, Bologna 1995; M. LIVINGSTONE, Vision and Art. The Biology of Seeing, New York 2002; R.L. SOLSO, The Psychology of Art and the Evolution of the Cognitive Brain, Cambridge Mass. 2003. 55 C.F. NODINE, H.L. KUNDEL, Perception and Display in Diagnostic Imaging, «RadioGraphs», VII (1987), pp. 12411250; R.L. SOLSO, Cognition and the Visual Arts, Cambridge Mass. 1994, pp. 143-144. 56 D.E. BERLYNE, Aesthetics and Psychobiology, New York 1971, pp. 218-219, 289-290, for diversive and specific exploration; SOLSO, Cognition and the Visual Arts, pp. 145146. 57 Choricii Gazaei opera, edited by R. Foerster, Leipzig 1929 (repr. Stuttgart 1972). Transl. MANGO, The Art of the Byzantine Empire, p. 61. 58 Ibid., p. 75. 59 Ibid., pp. 185-186. 60 R. OUSTERHOUT, Sacred Geographies and Holy Cities: Constantinople as Jerusalem, in Hierotopy in Byzantium and Medieval Russia, edited by A. Lidov, Moscow 2006, pp. 98116: 102: «Hagia Sophia could be seen as part of a larger, competitive discourse between political rivals». Further: «Clearly, both Juliana and Justinian understood the symbolic value of architecture». 61 Cf. MACRIDES, MAGDALINO, Architecture of Ekphrasis, p. 69, comparing Paul’s marble catalogue to a representation of provinces bringing tribute to the emperor. 62 The overall effect depended on other factors, such as lightening, church furniture, incense and sound. For the synaestethic experience, see JAMES, Senses and Sensibility in Byzantium. For light and space, J. POTAMIANOS, To Phos stê Byzantinê Ekklêsia, Thessaloniki 2000. 63 See, e.g., J. LEVINSON, Aesthetic Properties, Evaluative Force, and Differences of Sensibility, in Aesthetic Concepts: Essays after Sibley, edited by E. Brady and J. Levinson, Oxford 2001, pp. 61-80; ID., What are Aesthetic Properties?, «Proceedings of the Aristotelean Society», Suppl. LXXVIII (2005), pp. 211-217. 64 G.C. CUPCHIK ET ALII, Viewing Artworks: Contributions of Cognitive Control and Perceptual Facilitation to Aesthetic Experience, «Brain and Cognition», LXX (2009), pp. 84-91. 65 FOBELLI, Un tempio per Giustiniano, p. 25 and p. 31 n. 71, for idein and noein. 66 See A. GRABAR, Le témoignage d’une hymne syriaque sur l’architecture de la cathédrale d’Edesse au VIe siècle et sur la symbolique de l’edifice chrétien, «Cahiers Archéologiques», II (1947), pp. 41-67 ; K.E. MCVEY, The Domed Church as Microcosm: Literary Roots of an Architectural Symbol, «Dumbarton Oaks Papers», XXXVII (1980), pp. 91-121; H. TORP, The Integrating System of Proportion in Byzantine Art, Roma 1984, pp. 110-114; K. ONASCH, Lichthöhle und Sternenhaus, Dresden 1993, pp. 109-143. 52

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BENTE KIILERICH

LA VISIONE ESTETICA DEI MARMI A BISANZIO: DALL’IMPRESSIONE GLOBALE ALL’ATTENZIONE PUNTUALE

Bente Kiilerich

I marmi colorati erano importanti nell’arte bizantina. Gli artisti hanno esplorato, per pareti e pavimenti, la potenzialità dei marmi variegati e hanno realizzato effetti visuali di grande complessità e notevole bellezza. La giustapposizione di pietre di vari colori e varie venature crea un effetto armonico e stupendo. S. Sofia di Costantinopoli è l’esempio più splendido di questa ‘estetica del marmo’. La Grande Chiesa ci offre un’opportunità eccellente per studiare l’impatto visivo di una decorazione monumentale in situ. Le dieci varietà di marmi colorati che Paolo Silenziario presenta nella sua Descrizione della Santa Sofia (vv. 617-646) servono da punto di partenza dell’analisi. L’evidenza artistica e la

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testimonianza scritta sono indagate in parallelo. Poi rivolgo l’attenzione alla ricerca psicobiologica e neuroestetica nel tentativo di spiegare la maniera degli autori altomedioevali di descrivere l’esperienza estetica dello spazio interno delle chiese. Propongo che Paolo Silenziario, con il suo modo di presentare i marmi e le decorazioni dell’edificio, intenda preparare l’osservatore per la comprensione totale della visione estetica. Sostengo che i due tipi di visione, l’impressione globale e l’attenzione puntuale, cioè l’esplorazione dispersiva e quella specifica, erano ben conosciute all’epoca di Coricio, Procopio e Paolo Silenziario. Concludo che la ‘visione globale’ e la ‘visione puntuale’ servono scopi differenti nell’estetica dei Bizantini.