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186 THE CLASSICAL REVIEW

The two principal sections of the book each deal with one of these questions. Each section is
similarly structured, with the material analysed sanctuary by sanctuary and then subjected to the
question in hand. It may be asked whether the structure is a little too rigidly defined, and
whether it might not have been more interesting to examine the material in a more open-minded
sort of way and then see what questions arose naturally from it; possibly figurines from different
sanctuaries would prove susceptible to slightly different lines of approach. There is no doubt that
the chosen questions are interesting ones, but the nature of the material, especially the infrequent
survival of actual cult-images and the random survival (and retrieval) of the figurines themselves
means that no very definite answers can be offered: the eventual answer to question 1 is
'probably, sometimes', and to question 2, 'with rare exceptions, difficult to say'.
However, there is much of value in A.'s work. She discusses an impressively wide range of
sanctuaries, from the large and comparatively well-known, such as Ephesus or Olympia, to the
more obscure, such as Elatea or Proema. Anyone interested in sanctuary sites will find it
extremely useful to have such a thorough and well-documented account of the existing evidence
for the various cult-statues, besides the analysis of the anthropomorphic votives themselves. The
approach is thoughtful, lucid, honest, and logical. Above all, it is salutary for excavators or
museum curators to be reminded that they should not simply be cataloguing their votive
figurines without asking themselves why they take the forms they do, and what was their
purpose.
British Museum LUCILLA BURN

GEORGE HERSEY: The Lost Meaning of Classical Architecture:


Speculations on Ornament from Vitruvius to Venturi. Pp. xii + 204; 83
black and white illustrations. Cambridge, MA and London: The MIT
Press, 1988. £17.95 (Paper, £8.95).
The author is surprised at the enduring popularity of the Classical orders and seeks to explain
it through hidden meanings within ancient architecture which he thinks he has rediscovered by
imaginative interpretation of certain famous passages in Vitruvius. He maintains that there was
a fundamental connection between sacrifice and architectural ornament, and seeks to
demonstrate that the forms and terminology of ornament were derived from objects and
materials, including food, that were used in ritual sacrifices. For Hersey, the Greek temple
represents a grove of sacred trees decorated with battle or hunting trophies, or decked out like
an altar with reconstructed sacrifices, consisting of rows of teeth, garlands, horns, bones and the
like. Thus the triglyph of the Doric order with its three upright bars (called meroi in Greek)
represents sacrificial thigh-bones wrapped at top and bottom with strands of fat, the drips from
which are indicated by the guttae below. This primitive aspect of Greek architecture survived
into the historical period in the form of myths telling of the invention of the Doric, Ionic and
Corinthian orders, and it is Vitruvius' versions of these, together with his account of the
Caryatid and Persian porticoes, that are 'analyzed as tropes', in the author's words, to show
how they describe the orders as records of sacrifice.
The use of the trope, that is the search for meanings and associations through word play, puns
and homonyms, often admitted to be etymologically incorrect, is a great standby for the author,
as it allows him to range through the dictionary probing for suitable connections while relieving
him of any responsibility for formulating rational conclusions. A typical example is his analysis
of Ion, who is surprisingly credited with the creation of the Ionic order: 'He was not without
feminine qualities, as the tropes of his name make clear. Ion is a violet or gilliflower, ionthas
means thick, curling hair, and ionthos is a lock of hair. Ionios means named for Io, Zeus'
beautiful companion (And let us recall, too, that Io was horned). Iontas, dove, is even closer to
the Greek for Ion, Ion. (We saw the Ionic columns at dove-haunted Paphos).' Much of the text
consists of similarly allusive and elusive passages, intended it would seem to demonstrate the
author's defiance to the 'age of formalism and philology' of which he makes plain his
disapproval.
A second part of the book samples Vitruvius' influence on scholars and artists of Renaissance
Rome, and suggests through the help of a sequence of interesting illustrations that they at any
rate appreciated the sacrificial content of architectural ornament. Perhaps they did, but many
interpretative mistakes were made in the Renaissance, and one wonders whether H. is wise to
resurrect such a theory without attempting to correlate it more closely to our vastly improved
0009-840X/90
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r THE CLASSICAL REVIEW
knowledge of the history and forms of ancient temple building. It still seems to me much more
likely that there is an architectural rather than religious explanation for ancient ornament,
namely that it is a decorative reflection of earlier less-substantial forms of construction.
187

King's College, London G. B. WAYWELL

TONIO HOLSCHER: Romische Bildsprache als setnantisches System.


(Abhandlungen der Heidelberger Akademie der Wissenschaften.
Philosophisch-historische Klasse 1987, 2.) Pp. 78; 16 pi. Heidelberg:
Carl Winter, 1987. Paper, DM 58.
The basic thesis of this important essay, the latest in a series of studies by the author on various
aspects of imagery in Roman public art, is that the Romans used models from different phases
of Greek art to express the values appropriate to different themes. Thus, for instance, the
dignified and majestic forms of High Classical art were chosen for cult-statues and
representations of state-ceremonials, while the more emotional, dynamic forms of Hellenistic art
were selected for battle-scenes. More specifically, the qualities associated with individual Greek
masters provided exemplars for particular types of subject. Phidias' manner could be invoked
where the theme required pondus, maiestas or pulchritudo, Polyclitus' where it demanded decor,
Lysippus' where it called for veritas, and so forth. This visual language came to form a
semantic system which, while it did not wholly supplant the underlying styles of different epochs,
nonetheless became the dominant principle of artistic expression during the early imperial
period. Roman art was therefore fundamentally different from Greek. Whereas Greek art had
evolved in a series of broad chronological styles, the Romans acquired a repertory of
Ausdruckswerte on which they could draw at any time according to the nature of the subject. The
system need not have been laid down in rigid terms, because sculptors and clients alike could
have sensed instinctively what forms were appropriate for what themes; but conventional
practice tended to solidify it into a kind of universal language, suitable for transmitting ideas
within a vast and heterogeneous empire.
The germs of Holscher's theory have been adumbrated by previous writers (e.g. O. Brendel,
P. Zanker and H. U. Cain), but it has never before been so fully worked out. It provides an
interesting perspective for a general reassessment of Roman art in the first two centuries of the
Empire, and helps to account for many of the dating problems which have tormented
proponents of Zeitstil. Mistakes in presentation are few. On p. 64, the references to pis. 16, 3
and 16, 4 have been transposed, and at least one line has been omitted at the foot of the page.
University of Manchester ROGER LING

DONALD M. BAILEY: A Catalogue of the Lamps in the British


Museum, III: Roman Provincial Lamps (with illustrations by S. Bird
and an Appendix by M. J. Hughes). Pp. xv + 560; 162 figs.; 160 pis.
London: British Museum Publications, 1988. £150.00.
This third volume of Bailey's corpus of lamps in the British Museum forms the sequel to volumes
on Greek, Hellenistic and early Roman lamps, and on Roman lamps made in Italy. Whereas the
Roman-Italian lamps were arranged by types, the provincial ones are catalogued (like the Greek
and Hellenistic ones in the first volume) by regions. Separate sections are devoted to lamps
whose area of manufacture is uncertain, and a final section lists a number of reproductions and
forgeries which the Museum has acquired for reference purposes (and which are themselves here
assigned to workshops and places of origin).
As in the two previous volumes, the catalogue is exemplary in its thoroughness. For each item
we are given measurements, registration number, details of acquisition, provenance, type,
technical aspects, state of preservation, date and bibliography. Virtually every piece is illustrated
by a half-scale photograph. There are full discussions on the products of the individual regions;
and the whole catalogue is preceded by a 148-page introduction which follows the format
established in Volume II, with a first chapter describing how the lamps were acquired, a second
0009-840X/90 $3.00 © Oxford University Press 1990
Downloaded from https://www.cambridge.org/core. Gothenburg University Library, on 01 Nov 2019 at 11:10:14, subject to the Cambridge Core
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