Part III. By the time of Hadrian, during the early 2nd century, the Romans had accumulated more than one hundred and eighty holidays

By the time of Hadrian, during the early 2nd century, the Romans had accumulated more than one hundred and eighty holidays. Here is a typical Roman sacrificial ceremony. Originally religious in nature, by now they were primarily an excuse to hold some form of entertainment – gladiatorial combats, wild animal hunts, horse races, mock sea battles, staged in an amphitheatre such as this, and stage shows, complete with mimes, musicians and dancers. The games involving man against beast or other men served a distinct purpose. They helped to distract and channel the emotions of the frustrated Roman citizen, who had less and less to do with his government, as the Empire and the authority of the emperor grew.

Emperor Hadrian, however, chose not to use the authority to make further territorial conquests. Instead, he concentrated on Greek philosophy and other studies. He much preferred to have himself portrayed as an allegorical figure, in the manner of a Greek hero, than the leader of his troops. Here we see him in a sacrifice to Apollo. Other examples of Hadrian’s love of all things Greek are the many Greek ideas he borrowed for his palace at Tivoli. These caryatids, which flanked the pool, are an adaptation of those on the Erechtheum in Athens. Hadrian also built the Temple of Venus and Rome, the only temple in Rome which had the symmetrical ground plan and freestanding colonnade of the classical Greek temple.

Copies of famous Greek statues, such as these two of the Doryphorous, multiplied rapidly during Hadrian’s regime, as did portraits of Hadrian and his followers in the guise of Greek gods. Note that this is the first Roman emperor to appear in a beard – a fashion copied from the Ancient Greeks. But, despite Hadrian’s passion for Ancient Greece, the building for which he is most famous had little in common with anything which had gone before him, let alone a Greek temple!

The Pantheon, whose spectacular dome equals half its height, was – and is – unique. It represents a brilliant melding of the classical column with the Roman vault. This elaborate interior makes the Pantheon a perfect antithesis to the Greek temple, whose columns and sculpture decorated the exterior, while the interior was relatively simple. With the Roman love of thick, concrete walls, the Pantheon is plain, not to say ugly on the outside, yet highly articulate and theatrical within. The spectator virtually stands inside a piece of geometric sculpture.

Art during the reigns of Antoninus and Marcus Aurelius, who followed Hadrian, continued in a Greek-inspired vein – perhaps more deeply modeled and naturalistic than comparable Greek works, but essentially classical in feeling. One of the few pieces of sculpture in the round to survive, the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius conveys a monumental, larger-than-life-size feeling. More importantly, it marks the close of an age.

The classical realism and naturalism of the first two centuries of the Empire came to an abrupt halt in AD 180 under the rule of Commodus, son of Marcus Aurelius. Inheriting none of his father’s administrative genius and sense of justice, Commodus was a decadent, tyrannical ruler. His only positive contribution was the completion of the memorial column planned by Marcus Aurelius. A brief comparison of Aurelius’s column with that of Trajan, completed seventy years before, immediately demonstrates the new abstract expressionistic style known as “late antique.” Note how simplified the scene from Aurelius’s column is compared with the elaborate detail in Trajan’s frieze. While the carving on Trajan’s column was quite flat, the modeling on Aurelius’s column, seen here, is now deeply cut and drilled, creating an exciting, rough-hewn, and merciless picture of war. No longer is the emperor seen in profile, addressing his men, in a fully detailed setting as is seen here on the Column of Trajan. Instead, each scene on Aurelius’s column is abstract and schematized with the Emperor turned more toward the spectator. Human pity for the vanquished barbarians, which was evident in Trajan’s column, is strikingly absent here. Now the bodies of the barbarians are twisted in angular distorted rhythms. The style is sketchy and the figures leap out at the spectator.

After Commodus, for almost the whole 3d century, the Empire was ruled by a series of soldier emperors. The Empire had grown too unwieldy to be run in peace from Rome. And as the chaotic conditions increased, artistic style grew more and more sketchy and confused, as unessential details were omitted. This is evident even in the badly damaged reliefs from the Arch of Septimus Severus, the first of the soldier emperors and the first emperor who didn’t gain power through blood relationship or the express wish of his predecessor. Instead, Severus was catapulted into power by his army, setting a precedent that resulted in nineteen changes of government, in the next seventy-two years. Here are some of the men who briefly reigned. Notice the careworn, troubled expressions on their faces.

During the 3d century, the tide of Roman conquest also turned. No longer were the Romans the aggressors. Here you see the Roman prisoner in the hands of a barbarian tribe. They now had to defend Italy against the barbarians who were drawn by the wealth and grandeur of the Empire. Here the barbarians set an angry lion against the Roman defenders. The soldier emperors, afraid to leave Rome for fear they would be ousted, rarely accompanied their armies. Thus, even victories were uninspiring events, and the historical narrative relief, so characteristic of Roman artistic achievement for two hundred years, died out with the Arch of Septimus Severus.

The historical narrative was revived for the last time in the Arch of Constantine, more than one hundred years later. With his dream of returning to the peaceful era of Augustus, which led him to shave off his beard in favor of Augustus’s youthful look, Constantine represented the only person with sufficient force of personality to pull the Empire together for a final burst of glory. In the late antique abstract style of art, we see his army’s victory at the Milvian Bridge – a victory which gave Constantine total power over the Roman Empire. When, fifteen years later, he moved the capital from Rome to Constantinople, he signed the death warrant for Rome as the hub of civilization – a position it had occupied for five hundred years. It is therefore appropriate that the Arch of Constantine, besides reviving the historical narrative relief as seen here, also has physically borrowed sections from historical reliefs of the past – namely, from the time of Trajan, in the frieze on the inside wall of the arch, from the time of Hadrian, in the circular medallions, and from the era of Marcus Aurelius, in the panels from the attic story. How dramatically these reliefs from former eras point up the clumsy abstract style which marked the end of Roman art. Perhaps, when Constantine decided to borrow from the past, he foresaw that his memorial arch would be the last on Roman soil, and thus, he purposely intended it to be a perfect summary of the best of Roman art.