Acknowledgements Acknowledgements This work was carried out at the Faculty of Classics, Cambridge University and at the British School at Athens, funded by the AHRB. I am grateful to all three parties for enabling me to complete it. I would like to thank my supervisor Robin Osborne for always being on hand to help. Many useful comments and suggestions came from Julia Shear, Polly Low and Henry Hurst. I offer my sincerest thanks to the Library staff for putting up with my endless queries and to the staff of the Sidgwick site buttery for being there when it was all too much. Finally I would like to thank the M.Phil seminar group for making the year so much fun. AC - Antiquité Classique Monuments express, create and mould political identity and civic space. They ‘perform’ roles in constructing Athens’ identity. The focus of this essay will be on how their parts were written. How did monuments end up looking as they did? In searching for the impetus for design, scholars have focused on the complex relationship between the craftsmen and the state – the two energies through which a monument comes into being – and on finding who had the greater say in the design process. Did the individual lead the state or vice versa? Who can lay claim to ‘own’ the monument? Such a framing of the question reflects the agonistic relationship normally presupposed between these two entities (the individual v. the state). Such a way of looking at the relationship between these two does not offer us much scope for understanding its complexity. This essay tries to get at that complexity by examining how public initiative and individual impetus interrelated in practice in the production of public monuments. First: the individual. Later written sources, and much modern scholarship, have highlighted the role of the individual not only in the design process, but in the story of ‘Art’ as a whole (to which these monuments are said to belong). I shall compare this view to that given by the contemporary literary and epigraphic sources: focusing on one individual that we might expect to be heavily involved in the design of public monuments – the architekton. I shall argue that, while the architekton is heavily involved in supervising the execution of monuments, he is not involved to any great extent in their design. In contrast I shall highlight particular cases where the state does appear to give named individuals (who are never given an official title) free rein with design. Such fragmentation of design and execution prevents any one individual from laying claim to own the monument. Second: the state. When talking about the ‘state’ in relation to Athens, I am referring to the different bodies that made up the apparatus of government – in particular the Boule and the Ekklesia. These groups could (choose to) exercise control over individuals in the production process in two ways. Firstly, many designs were chosen through a competitive process initiated and judged by the state. Secondly these bodies could enforce limits on the duration and amount of work that any individual could undertake, denying them any degree of ‘ownership’ over public monuments. Yet the regular change over of citizens serving within the Boule and the sheer number in the Ekklesia also prevents these bodies from claiming to own these monuments. In conclusion, I hope to argue that there is no fixed ratio of individual to state in the recipe for the production of monuments and that the relationship between the two was extremely flexible. Such flexibility means that these monuments cannot be labelled simply as showcases of the individual or as elements of a ‘top down’, well-rehearsed state propaganda campaign. Instead I would argue that the dynamic dialogue of individual and state, inherent in the manufacturing process, transfers the emphasis for their ownership onto the people of Athens, thus making these monuments a fundamental part of Athenian public identity. Stage 1: Who cares about the Individual? Later written sources such as Pliny, Plutarch and Pausanias, give the impression that the individual craftsman is of paramount importance in the creation of monuments that are primarily works of ‘art’ rather than part of a social fabric. For them the individual (artist) is king. Much of the scholarship on art and its ‘Artists’ has taken its lead from such writers: modern scholars have liked their histories to be “peppered with genius”. In an attempt to tell the Story of Art (not least motivated by the perceived need to carve out a niche for themselves within Classics), they have very purposely put monuments into their own realm. They understand the process of production to be entirely motivated by factors that relate only to the individual. Does the epigraphic evidence support this spotlight on the individual? To answer this I shall examine several inscriptions that establish the responsibilities of one individual who is involved with the production of public monuments: the architekton. In IG I3 474 (409/8BC) – the building accounts of the Erechtheum - the architekton is named in line 2 as Philokles Acharneus. This is not the name that is traditionally associated with the design of the Erechtheum (it is usually Kallikrates or Mnesicles). Scholars have commented that the term architekton often denotes not the designer but a supervisor of the building process. Yet in this inscription, the name of the designer is never mentioned. We have an architekton but no architect! Moreover IG I3 476 (408/7BC), the accounts for the following year, announces a different architekton - Archilochus (lines 1/2), who seems to have replaced Philokles. What is going on in these two decrees? The decrees detail who is being paid for working on the Erechtheum but do not include payment for anyone responsible for designing the building – only to the architekton, who changes, it seems, every year, and who looks after its construction (and deals with unforeseen design problems as they arise on the ground). This very clear demarcation between the role of architekton and architect must I think also be what is happening at the Temple of Asklepius at Epidaurus (IG IV2 102 (Fourth century)). Burford has argued that Theodotus, the architekton, is also the principle designer on the basis that an architect is not mentioned. However in the light of the Erechtheum decrees we can see that such a link is not a foregone conclusion. Indeed it is much more likely that Theodotus is only the architekton, and indeed he is paid in the same way as Archilochus was in the Erechtheum decree (compare line 9 IG IV2 102 with line 256 IG I3 476). Again in the fourth century we can see evidence for the architekton as the supervisor rather than as the architect. In IG II2 244 (337/6 BC) and IG II2 463 (307/6BC) – both decrees about the restoration of the Long walls – tois architektosi are being paid a regular salary by the demos (most probably they are all working on different sections of the wall). Again in the Fourth century, Hellmann 6.1.21-38 (311BC) – a decree for connecting the old and new parts of the town of Colophon by joining the outer walls – chooses, through examination, an architekton “who will be most capable to take care of (epimelesthai) the work (lines 23-4). So, if the architekton is supervising the projects, who is designing them and how are they chosen? IG II2 1668 (347BC) – the contract for Philo’s Arsenal in Piraeus – offers some answers. In this decree the design (suggraphe) has already been chosen and is attributed to “Demetrios and Philo” (lines 2-3). These two seem to be different from the architekton because line 94 notes that there will be a (singular) architekton (who is not named) who will explain the model and the measurements to oi misthosamenoi (the ones who actually do the work). This naming of the individual is again seen in IG I3 79 (422BC) – the building of a bridge on the processional road from Athens to Eleusis – where the decree spells out the design it has chosen (lines 5-15) and in 16-7 notes that these specifications are in accordance with the design agreed with Demomeles (his title architekton here is a complete restoration). Thus decrees occasionally name designers, though without giving them an official title, and without giving an explanation as to how they were chosen. Indeed sometimes the decree makes clear that an individual has been chosen without any designs having yet been seen. IG I3 35 (450BC) — the Nike Temple Decree — makes it clear that the building design and execution is a Boule-led process (line 2, 17-18). However it also says that the “specifications for the doors are to be set out (chsuggraphsei by Kallikrates”. At this stage there is no indication that any designs have actually been presented by him (note the future tense of chsuggraphsei. The assembly votes on an individual rather than a design. Indeed the assembly seems to realise how much of a carte blanche they have offered and votes a rider to the decree specifying that three men from the Boule are to be chosen to help him draw up the specifications. How do these designers come to be chosen? In IG II2 244 (337/6BC), which we met above, suggraphai are called for from “from anyone who wants to make them” (line 5). These entries must be judged, an example of which is IG I3 64A (440-415BC) - a project involved with the Nike Temple. The project is announced and a contest is initiated where people are asked to submit graphsanta to the epistatai (a board of the Boule), which will be voted on at the later stage by the Ekklesia. The decree also stipulates the type and value of materials that can be used in the design. Thus we can see that the architekton was heavily involved in supervising the execution of a project, rather than its design. Who designed these projects, and what freedom they had to do so is more difficult to establish. On some decrees, individuals are named in the decrees after their designs have been chosen or before they are even submitted. Yet in nearly all these decrees, there is no indication that the designers (if indeed they are mentioned) had any long-term control (any ‘ownership’) over their designs — indeed the introduction of the architekton, as the supervisor to take care of the work in place of the architect, actively limits such ownership. Thus it could be said that it is the sheer number of individuals involved by the state in the different stages of production that stops any one from claiming ownership over the end product. Stage 2: Controlling the individual: the position of the State Individuals had to submit designs into a competition, from which the designer was chosen by the Boule/Ekklesia. This means that these organs of the state had a strong influence not only over the final appearance of the monument, but also over what types of monuments were being designed, given that it was these bodies who called for its design in the first place (cf. IG I3 35 line 1). They were also able to specify the materials it was to be made of (cf. IG I3 64A). Such a limitation of the individual is also paralleled outside Athens, where the state made an effort to limit the number of public building contracts that an individual could have at any one time. The notion of gaining the approval of the state permeates every level of design for all different types of monuments. Competitions were also held for the artistic decoration on these buildings, and indeed for self-standing sculptures. Paionios, under his Nike at Olympia, inscribed: “Paionios made me, he who won (enika) the competition to make the akroterion for the temple”. And pseudo-Aristotle relates how it was the job of the Boule to judge the competition for the design of the robe for Athena’s statue – at least, that is, until they started showing favouritism, when the decision was moved to the dikasterion. In the fourth century the system of offering the design out to a competition was not always used. Sometimes the Ekklesia designed it themselves. In IG II2 403 (338 BC) – the repair of the statue of Athena Nike – we learn that the Assembly, not the artist, debated for some time what the statue should look like and indeed was encouraged to do so as proper procedure (line 8). Hellmann 6.1.21-38 (311BC) – connecting parts of the town in Colophon via the outer walls - which chose an architekton to supervise the work, actually sets up a committee of 10 (line 21) to design it. In the third century, the committee approach was standard practice and often included the supervisor architekton as part of the design process. IG II2 839 (221/0 BC) shows that a general and an architekton are joined by five layman – 2 from the Areopagus and three from the citizen body – to design a new oinochoe for a priest (cf. IG II2 841/2). The state, by incorporating the individuals involved in the process of production within a committee that operated in the name of the state could render individual input into the design quite invisible (although they do decide to record his presence on the decree). Thus the only vaguely continual presence in the production process is the Boule and/or the Ekklesia. However they too are composed of citizens who change on a regular basis. Moreover they sometimes defer their right to decide on the design. IG I3 64A again, though fragmentary, seems to indicate that not only the epistatai, but also the Athenians “in consultation with their allies” (lines 10-11) must take a part in the deciding the winning design. Thus no one body of the state can really be said to own these monuments, even though they all had a hand in their production. Indeed the decree reliefs that accompany these inscriptions seem to reflect this. On one of the building decrees at Eleusis, the relief portrays the Goddesss Demeter herself as the one giving the instructions (even possibly the design?) to the personification of the deme of Eleusis. Moreover the decree relief that accompanied IG I3 79 (the bridge for the processional way to Eleusis) has Demeter, Kore, Triptolemus and Athena looking down on the decree. It is to the deities that the Athenians seem to attribute the ultimate ownership of their monuments. However while the state denied any individual or small group responsibility for many of these publicly funded monuments, it could not do so for monuments that were set up by private bodies, such as honorary statues, nor indeed did it have any control over how such monuments were designed. Instead the Boule was only able to control who was honoured (as it gave permission for a statue) and where it was put. A statue’s placement (its ‘social geography’) was one element of its meaning over which the state had complete ownership, which it took unusual pains to record. The state had a large impact on the production of public monuments, not least because its constituent bodies choose the parameters for the monument and the winning design. In the fourth and third centuries the state took care of design completely “in house” through committees. In the fifth century, when individuals do seem to be responsible for the design, I have argued that the state could still ensure that such influence did not amount to ownership of a monument. Yet I have also argued that neither the bodies of the state nor individuals in reality had (or wanted to appear to have) any claim to responsibility for the monument, as is expressed in the decree reliefs, which instead attributes them to the Gods. Conclusion: Building a (Monumental) Thesis. In trying to think about how monuments ended up looking as they did, we inevitably come to focus on the two energies that went into a monument’s production – the craftsmen’s and the state’s. I began this essay by suggesting that the relationship between the two, rather than being agonistic, was one of “dynamic dialogue”. In concluding I would like to elucidate some of the ways in which this dialogue manifests itself and what the presence of such dialogue means. Firstly there is a conflict between the impression given by the later written sources and the contemporary evidence, which offer us different ways of looking at the status of the individual and of monuments as a whole depending on whether we see monuments as Art or as part of an institutional fabric. Such well-entrenched ways of seeing fundamentally influence how we enter into our own dialogue with these monuments and with the creative processes behind them. Secondly by using the example of the architekton as a starting point, we have examined how the individual and the state interact within the creative mix of the production process as shown by the epigraphic record. The dynamic dialogue between these two is extremely varied and complex. The architekton clearly had a supervisory role in the execution of public monuments. However he does not seem to have a primary role in design (although as a supervisor he would be called upon to make alterations on site as problems arose). On the occasions when individuals are named whose design for the project has been accepted, there is no indication in the decrees how those individuals were chosen. Indeed the decrees seem to be purposefully obscure on this point. As far as we can interpret how that choice was made, it seems to have been structured through a competitive process. This state led process offered an arena for the dialogue between the two to be played out. Such a process allowed the organs of government a strong hand in the design of monuments. Yet such a strong hand for the state does not preclude the impact of the individual on the design (or indeed preclude the high status of artists in ancient society). Thirdly we must consider the dialogue between individual and state as one that also has a temporal dimension. The naming of the individual as designer, and indeed the whole competitive process for design - practices of the fifth century, fade out in the fourth, and are replaced in the fourth and third centuries by one led by a committee (indeed the rider to IG I3 35 may be seen as a good precursor for this). The committee, which functioned in the name of the Athenian state, could incorporate all the individuals involved in the process. Crucially this trend towards a more ‘democratic’ way of designing monuments outlives the period of ‘true’ democracy in Athens, as we can see from evidence for its continuation in the third century. Such a varied recipe of interaction and dialogue only exists because neither the individual nor the state could (or wanted to) claim to ‘own’ the monument. No one can be said to own it, though everyone had a hand in its production. Thus the production process, by encouraging this dialectical relationship between individual and state, actually prevents these two entities from coming into conflict (and the committee procedure of the third century, by harmonising both elements, is the fullest expression of this). The existence of the dialogue and the absence of the monopolisation by one side or the other means that we cannot think of monuments as being showcases for individuals or part of a structured, well rehearsed, totally state dominated propaganda campaign. Instead it is the presence of the dynamic dialogue between individual and state - the presence of the people - within the production process that makes these monuments part of Athenian public identity. Yet as should be clear from some of the epigraphic evidence that I have used, it was not only in Athens that this dialogue between individual and state in the production of monuments was taking place. To a great extent the processes we have described for how the Athenians built their monuments are paralleled across a large part of the Hellenic world. Other states tendered out design in a competition for example. Yet it was perhaps the acute focus on Athens as a cultural and imperial centre that made the way Athens did things, and the way Athenians perceived that they did things, more important. Thus, in the final analysis, it was perhaps Athens’ ability to recognise and confront (to enter into dialogue with) the relationship of individual and state inherent in its public monuments, which was fundamental to the formation of its (unique) political identity. Austin R.P. - 1931 “A note on Temple Equipment” JHS 51 289 |
