The Alexander Mosaic

Needless to explain what I mean with “The Alexander Mosaic,” we are all familiar with the picture. The detailed images of Alexander facing Darius on the battlefield are common knowledge and widespread. However, to truly appreciate this mosaic, you have to see it for yourself.

Initially, this piece of art covered the floor of a Roman Villa in Pompeii, the city that was destroyed by the eruption of the Vesuvius in 79 AD. This villa is known today as the House of the Faun, where the lovely dancing and balancing bronze figure was found. This Faun stood in the atrium of the villa and has been replaced with a copy since the original is safely moved to the museum.

The “Alexander Mosaic,” created around 100 BC, is one of the largest ever found and most probably one of the finest also. It measures some 5m x 3m (the exact measurements vary according to the sources) and counts more than one million and a half tesserae made of stone and glass. This splendid piece of craftsmanship occupies a place of its own in the Archaeological Museum of Naples – very close to the Faun.

Scholars established that the composition is based on a wall painting created around 320 or 317 BC, most probably by Philoxenos of Eritrea, but Apelles, Alexander’s personal painter, is another candidate. 

Manolis Andronikos, who discovered and studied the Tomb of Philip in Vergina, made a rather convincing comparison between the hunting painting above the tomb’s entrance at Vergina and the original battle scene as later transposed onto the Alexander Mosaic. Both panels are about the same length, but the Vergina one is less than half in height. The composition of this hunting scene is very similar to that of the battle scene. Besides, both paintings have been executed in the typical style “of four colors” (yellow, red, black, and white), which was initiated by Apelles. Based on his study, Andronikos likes to attribute the painting that led to the mosaic to Philoxenus because he was a pupil of Nikomachos. This artist painted the fascinating Persephone that was discovered in the same Vergina tumulus. 

According to Pliny the Elder, the battle painting of Alexander and Darius was commissioned by Cassander, who was aspiring to become King of Macedonia at that time. It is a chilling thought that we owe such a masterpiece to Cassander, who had Alexander’s blood on his hands.  Hacking his way to the throne, he successively murdered Olympias, Alexander’s own mother, Roxane, his wife, Alexander IV, his son with Roxane, as well as Heracles, his son with his mistress Barsine. He used Alexander’s name and fame only as a means of propaganda to flatter his own ego. It makes you wonder which traits of Alexander he wanted to promote, considering his own brutality. It cannot have been too flattering, to say the least.

By 148 BC, however, Macedonia had been conquered by the Romans, who helped themselves to its many treasures. One of the key figures was Consul Quintus Caecilius Metellus Macedonicus, who plundered Pella’s rich art collection and extensive Library. The original painting may well have been among his trophies to be used some fifty years later to create this mosaic. Many of Rome’s wealthy citizens, to escape the oppressing summer heat, could afford expensive seaside resorts in the Vesuvian area. Their villas were lavishly decorated with paintings, mosaics, and statues robbed or copied from the newly conquered Greek provinces.  

There have been some discussions as to which battle this mosaic is supposed to represent. But lately, scholars have agreed that we are looking at the Battle of Issus rather than the Battle of Gaugamela. The main argument leading to that conclusion is the dead tree behind Alexander. Marco Polo, on his trek with the caravans of Central Asia, learned that late Arabian sources knew the Battle of Issus as The Battle of the Dead Tree.

The dead tree, in fact, opens a whole new discussion as we find two similar dead trees in the Vergina painting. A few years ago, Frank Holt wrote an extensive article on the meaning of these strange lone trees (published by academia.edu under the title Alexander the Great, Lightning, and the Lone Dead Tree), but in the end, no theory was really conclusive. 

The entire setting is theatrical, with the central position of Darius’ turning chariot and horses. The dismounting figure just below Darius has been identified as his brother, Oxyathres. He is standing over his wounded horse (notice the front leg that has been chopped off above the hoof) as Alexander’s sarissa hits him. In reality, no mounted soldier ever carried a sarissa simply because it was too long and too heavy and needed both hands to handle. The cavalry, and in this case, Alexander on horseback, used spears. Well, we can explain this as artistic liberty, I suppose.

Each person and each animal is on the move, nothing is static, and the faces and bodies show an excellent understanding of the human form and anatomy. Connoisseurs speak of the outstanding use of foreshortening – an artistic way to reduce or distort objects and figures to produce a 3-D effect. How on earth did we lose that knowledge and technique in the dark Middle Ages! Stepping back for a moment, I am looking straight at the behind of a horse galloping away from me. Only a master artist is capable of creating such a realistic and daring composition!

It is quite exciting to study this monumental mosaic in all its minute details – of which there are very many. For a start, there is the layout of the tesserae themselves. The scientific name is opus vermiculatum, also known as “worm work,” because the tiny stones are set in a pattern resembling the slow motion of a worm. Studying the legs of the horses at my eye level, I realize that I can almost “feel” the texture of the horse’s robe.

Unbelievable! I also notice the detailed patterns on the pants of the Persians in the foreground, the harnesses of the horses, including the little bell on top of their head, the figures of ducks and lions applied on the bridles, and the thick tassel on their breast. Oxyathres’ pants are particularly elaborate, and I love the comfort of his low leather boots with the flaps. And then there is the gorgeous gold torque worn by the Persian next to Darius, holding his headwear as he is staring at Alexander.

Darius’ chariot is another subject worth to be scrutinized. The rims of its panels show motives of winged animals (dragons and aurochs) reminiscent of Babylon’s walls. I am amazed to see how the front wheel, with its border of beads, throws a shadow onto the body of the chariot. Darius’ large cloak is flung to the side by the sudden turn of his chariot, and I am surprised to find it trimmed with a Greek meander motif. Looking more closely, I even notice that the end of the horse’s tail is tied in an elegant knot. There is much determination in the face of the driver whipping the span he is leading in the turn. There even is a dialogue between two of the Persians in the back who raise their arms as if they are signaling to each other. Their eyes are meeting. There is fear on the face of the fallen Persian at the bottom right, looking up as he is on the point of being trampled by the horses around him. The Persian in the foreground watches his reflection in the Macedonian shield that he is pushing away to avoid being crushed underneath. The scene makes me think about what effect the reflection of hundreds of such shiny shields would have on a battlefield? It must be terrifying!

The Macedonian side of the mosaic is damaged to the point that there is close to nothing to tell about the army and their outfit. Luckily, the image of Alexander the Great has been spared. He has his wide eyes fixed on Darius. He is supposed to ride his black Bucephalus, but this horse is brown. Did that color look better in the picture? Who knows? On the other hand, Alexander’s outfit is correctly rendered with his off-white linen corselet and the lively Medusa head on his chest to avert the evil and the thunderbolts on his shoulder straps. His sword is still sheathed. The one officer behind Alexander is wearing a Thessalian helmet. Otherwise, the tesserae are gone. It makes me wonder if the visitors to the villa had eyes for Alexander only. After all, these were the days when those who could afford it went to Egypt to visit Alexander’s tomb – men like Caesar, Marc Antony, Augustus, Caligula, etc.

The space below the raging battle is filled technically with lost arms: a bow, a sword, a scabbard, and a javelin that still has the Ankyle, leather strip wrapped around its end (meant to increase the throwing distance). 

The commotion and the disarray of the battlefield are very palpable! The Persian spears in the background not only fill the space from an artistic point of view but also provide a line of focus toward Alexander. What a masterly composition!

It is unknown what led the owner of this villa to use this battle theme for his main floor, the one which every visitor would cross upon arrival. There are several theories. One is that the owner was a mercenary in Roman service during the war against King Perseus of Macedonia. Another is that one of his ancestors was involved in the fight against King Alexander of Epirus in Italy. Well, in both cases, they refer to close ties with Macedonia.

Whatever the speculations, this mosaic certainly is a rare piece of art that survived in close memory of Alexander. We still cannot imagine the immense wealth that the Romans hauled away from Macedonia - a wealth we owe to Alexander!