Phaselis by Nihal Tüner Önen

Phaselis, Ancient city of Lycian Civilization by Nihal Tüner Önen (ISBN 978-975-17-3775-5) is a hard-cover, pocket-size guide to the site of Phaselis.

The format allows the visitor to carry this booklet in his pocket or backpack, and the bookmarker helps to keep track of your whereabouts.

After a short geographical overview and the historical background, the guide treats the different parts of Phaselis and its main buildings. The booklet is richly illustrated with beautiful color photographs, which truly reflect the unique atmosphere that reigns among these impressive ruins.

It should be said, however, that the English text is not always very clear and understandable but with some effort, we can overcome that flaw.

All in all, it is a recommendable guide for those who truly wish to understand the layout of this ancient city.

Alexander’s battle outfit

Except for the famous mosaic from the House of the Faun in Pompeii, now on display at the Archaeological Museum of Naples (see: The Alexander mosaic), we have no picture of Alexander’s outfit. Although this mosaic gives only a partial view and is made two centuries after his death, it is the closest we can get to visualizing the details.

True, there are a few equestrian bronzes of Alexander that were copied from one and the same original that once stood in the sanctuary of Dion. The Alexander figure belonged to a group of at least 25 Companion cavalry who died during the Battle of the Granicus in 334 BC. This memorial in honor of the dead was erected upon the king’s instruction and occupied a place of honor for some four hundred years. In 148 BC, when Macedonia was reduced to become a mere Roman province, Consul Quintus Caecilius Metellus moved the group to Rome. It has been argued that the monument was part of Alexander’s propaganda campaign and was recognized as such by the Romans.

Plutarch is the only author from antiquity to give us a detailed description of Alexander’s outfit. He speaks of the king wearing a coat of Sicilian make. Over that coat, he wore a tight girth and a corselet of thickly quilted linen. In the mosaic, Alexander seems to wear a long-sleeved garment underneath his breastplate but the image is too garbled to make it out. David Karunanithy (see: The Macedonian War Machine) states that the tunic, which now appears as faded purple-grey, was once deep purple. This is very credible since the king reportedly wore purple for everyday use. By extension, a purple tunic does not look out of place.

The mosaic also shows Alexander wearing a cloak that is held in place by a round gold fibula. This cloak has been recognized as a long antique epiporpoma.  It was made by a certain Helicon and given to him by the citizens of Rhodes as a mark of their respect. The belt Alexander wore in all engagements was from the same origin. It showed much richer craftsmanship than the rest of his outfit and was probably adorned with precious stones.

[Picture from the movie Alexander by Oliver Stone]

The linen corselet apparently was taken as war booty after the Battle of Issus, but Plutarch does not tell us who the original owner was. This linothorax carries strong Greek features meaning that it may have belonged to someone fighting with the Allied Greek army or it may have been taken from one of the Greek mercenaries in Persian service. The face of the Gorgon as depicted on Alexander’s corselet on the mosaic is rather cute and animated. He seems to take part in the attack with his eyes turned towards the action.

Alexander’s helmet, which is totally absent from the mosaic, was another eye-catcher. His entire army as well as his enemies knew exactly where he was because of his ostentatious headgear. It is very probable that the king had more than one conspicuous helmet, but in all cases, Alexander had to be seen from afar. At least one of his helmets was created by Theophilus, clearly an expert maker otherwise unknown. It was made of iron so thoroughly polished that it looked like silver. It was fitted to a gorget made of the same material, set with precious stones.

On the battlefield, Alexander was recognizable by this characteristic helmet that had large plumes of white feathers attached to either side of the crest. We’ll remember how during the Battle of the Granicus, Spithridates hit the king’s helmet with his battle-axe, cutting off the crest and one of the plumes. The blow barely missed his scalp. It is obvious that under these circumstances, Alexander needed another helmet. It had to be consistent with the image he had projected so far. The two distinctive white plumes that set him apart from other commanders and generals in the field were a must.

In the mosaic, Alexander is handling a spear, and his sword is still sheathed. Plutarch described the sword as exceptionally light and well-tempered. It was a masterpiece given to him by the King of Citium on the island of Cyprus. By the 4^th century BC, Cyprus had a long-established history of talented armorers.

The Macedonians basically used two forms of swords. The straight sword with a double-edged blade was the most popular. On average it was about 60-70 cm long and had a cruciform hilt, usually made of bone or wood. Some fine specimens had ivory handles enhanced with gold or silver decorations. The blade was exceptionally efficient because of the swelling toward the sword’s tip. It added weight and momentum to each blow. It was particularly indicated to hit the enemy with downward strokes, causing more severe injuries. Another advantage of the straight sword was that it could be used by cavalry and infantry alike as it functioned as well for hacking and stabbing.

The kopis or saber-shaped sword with the crooked hilt was less common. The blade was 40-60 cm long and only the curved inside had a cutting edge. Xenophon tells us that the kopis were more effective for fights on horseback since the rider could deliver a heavy blow from above.

During his lifetime, Alexander added several foreign or Asian features to his outfit and battledresses as he moved further east.

Over the centuries, artists and movie-makers have fitted Alexander according to their inspiration influenced by the fashion of their own time. Modern archaeology, especially from grave finds, has revealed many pictures of Macedonian soldiers and commanders. Nowadays it is easier to recreate a more faithful image of Alexander’s outfit, although the entire picture will always elude us.

The road to the Stadium of Laodicea

In a previous blog (see: Laodicea, an update on the works in progress), I have listed the many buildings and features of Laodicea that are awaiting excavations.

The site is being labeled as being the largest in Anatolia after Ephesos. Additional archaeological digs have exposed the sacred agora as wells as a church and one of the two theaters.

[Picture from Hurriyet Daily News]

The latest excavations are carried out in and around the Stadium. This huge construction was built in 79 AD and measured 285m x 70m. It could seat as many as 25,000 to 30,000 people. According to the recently found inscriptions, this Stadium hosted Olympic-scale events and the customary Roman gladiator fights in which men fought against each other and against wild animals.

As always, the Stadium was situated outside the city walls and presently the street linking it to the center of Laodicea has been cleared. Old pavements, especially roads, are always an exciting feature. Modern visitors will now be allowed to walk over such a precious testimony of the past.

Closer study of the area around the Stadium has revealed the presence of a huge Bath Complex covering some 12,000 m2. Nearby, the remains of an Assembly Hall and a state guest house have been found.

It seems that in time, Laodicea will be one of the many favorite travel destinations Turkey has to offer.

An exceptional Alexander Frieze

Honestly, I am not too keen on statues, paintings or other depictions of Alexander other than those from the Greek and Hellenistic era. I obviously have to include the Roman copies because more often than not, the Greek originals no longer exist.

Over the centuries, Alexander enjoyed many admirers. Scores of sculptors and painters have tried their best to produce a portrait of Alexander befitting the great king, placing him in their own historical context. It is precisely that kind of setting that I often find awkward.

Paintings by Charles le Brun (Entry into Babylon, Alexander and Porus, the Battle of Arbela, etc.), Peter-Paul Rubens (Roxane), Paolo Veronese (The family of Darius before Alexander), Jacques-Louis David and Tieopolo (Alexander and Campaspe in the studio of Apelles) are all beautiful representations. Still, for me, those pictures don’t take me back to the very days of Alexander. The same happens with most of the stone and marble renditions of the conqueror by great artists like Verrocchio or Andrea della Robbia, as well as the portraits on cameos and medallions.

Today, I am, however, making an exception for this Alexander frieze displayed on the walls of the cafeteria at the Harris Museum and Art Gallery in Preston, UK. It is a plaster copy of a work by the Danish artist Bertel Thorvaldsen. 

The name Thorvaldsen probably doesn’t ring a bell with most of us, but in the 19th century, he was one of the highly successful artists. After his studies at the Copenhagen Academy, he went to Rome, where his enthusiasm for classical sculpture fired his imagination. 

Just like the copy we find in Preston, the original Alexander Frieze was also made of plaster. It was actually commissioned in 1812 to celebrate Napoleon’s entry into Rome. It took Thorvaldsen three months to accomplish this masterpiece. Yet, Napoleon never showed up in Rome, and the frieze remained at the Palazzo Quirinale. 

However, the scene was so inspiring that two other versions were created in marble. One for Count Sommariva, who lived near Lake Como in Italy, and one for the Palace of Christianborg in Copenhagen. Several plaster casts were made during Thorvaldsen’s lifetime and also afterwards. The Preston copy arrived in England in 1862 to celebrate Danish art at the International Exhibition in London. The Victoria and Albert Museum offered this piece of art to the Harris Museum and Art Gallery in Preston in 1987.

The scene of the frieze loosely interprets the triumphant entry of Alexander the Great into Babylon in 331 BC. Basically, the frieze starts from two sides. One is showing the army led by Alexander in a chariot, and the other the citizens of Babylon led by the goddess of peace holding an olive branch. 

The frieze is a magnificent piece of art, and I feel it deserves a better setting than a cafeteria, even if it fits the neo-classical style of the building! Thorvaldsen truly understood the essence of Greek art, or rather Hellenistic art, at its apotheosis. It is not surprising to learn that the piece has been copied so many times. Napoleon clearly did not realize what he missed...

The frieze closely reflects the frieze of the Parthenon with its successive figures on horseback and their cloaks bulging in the wind. I love the lively details the artist managed to incorporate. There is this cute looking elephant carrying the trophies of war taken from the Persians. Or the Babylonian flower girls and musicians, and the chained lions. I am staring in awe at the knelt figure dragging an altar because it reminds me of a similar artifact I encountered at the Museum of Morgantina in Sicily. That specific altar from the 3rd century BC was made of silver and was found at the House of the wealthy Eupolemos, as part of an extraordinary hoard of silverware (see: Haggling over the silver hoard of Morgantina). 

I secretly wonder whether Alexander carried a similar altar with him on his campaigns. We may never know for sure, but it certainly is not impossible.

[Pictures are reproduced with the courtesy of Jim Cleary]

New technologies to map hidden ancient Gerasa

Archaeology is evolving fast forward, thanks to the constant flow of new technology. One of the latest techniques in that field is using laser pulses from an aircraft to create an exact 3D map. This is called LiDAR or Light Detection and Ranging.

This revolutionary procedure is particularly useful to quickly map large areas with a high degree of accuracy. At present, Jerash, the ancient city of Gerasa (see: Alexander, founder of Gerasa), has been scrutinized. Until now, all we had to go by were old archival data and historical aerial photographs going back as far as the First World War. 

Results of the mapping process, showing newly identified features and previously mapped structures. The results demonstrate that a substantial number of archaeological features can be identified. These are complex to interpret, but the outline of a probable road network (Inset), and urban subdivisions are visible, along with a large number of subrectangular features likely indicative of building foundations.
[Picture from Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America]

Urban development, here as elsewhere, has considerably changed the picture. Modern Jerash is a booming town and unfortunately for the archaeologists, at least 50% is built on top of old Gerasa.

Thanks to this new technology, researchers and archaeologists can see all those hidden remains, down to the most subtle and most difficult discernable features. Maps are lovely tools to study the past and looking at the 3D LiDAR map reveals so many details hitherto unknown. Much has been destroyed, but much is still there to be discovered and to be preserved for the future.

A good example is, for instance, the water management in ancient Gerasa that become apparent on the 3D maps (see: Water management in antiquity). A complex and sophisticated series of aqueducts and irrigation channels transported the essential water from nearby rivers and springs. 

I am convinced that there are many other clues about the organization and administration of ancient Gerasa waiting to be revealed. It will be wonderful to follow up on what is being exposed in Jerash and how this technology will be applied to other vestiges from antiquity.

The full article about this LiDAR technology is available in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, co-written by David Stott, Søren Much Kristiansen, Achim Lichtenberger and Rubina Raja.

Alexander caring for the wounded and the dead

Battlefields always revolve around numbers and tactical moves. The human aspect is generally left out, simply because it is an inevitable by-product of war. Modern warfare is far more clinical, and statistics of the number of dead and wounded are kept pretty accurately.

In antiquity, the situation was entirely different. A person’s life was of little value. Men died in battle, women died in childbirth, and if they managed to escape that fate, they could fall victim to raids from a neighboring town and finally die as a slave. Not the happiest prospect for any being, unless you belonged to the upper class of society. But still.

The Greeks considered that dying on the battlefield was an honorable death, but they were not ready to sacrifice their lives for that sole purpose.

When I watched Oliver Stone’s picture of the aftermath of the Battle of Gaugamela with hundreds and thousands of corpses spread over the battlefield, I remembered a similar shot of Atlanta in the movie Gone with the Wind. In both scenarios, I wondered about the smell of the decaying bodies of men and beasts, the puddles of blood and excrement, the buzzing of the flies, and the vultures uttering their guttural screams. There is nothing glorious left on a battlefield after the victory is claimed by one party.

Following Alexander on his major confrontations at the Granicus, at Issus, at Gaugamela, and on the Hydaspes, our sources from antiquity wind up producing the strangest figures when it comes to counting the dead. Numbers on either side have been distorted. They were either to make the losses on the enemy’s side much higher than they were or to reduce the casualties on Alexander’s side to a questionable minimum. It is impossible to verify any of the information that has reached us through Arrian, Plutarch, Diodorus, Curtius, or Justin, more so because it was penned down centuries after the facts.

As to the wounded, it seems they were not accounted for, or only in exceptional cases. Counting the dead on a battlefield did not equate to the ultimate number of casualties. Many of the wounded were bound to die afterward. 

Hygiene is a foreign word in antiquity, and if there was any basic knowledge, it was a far cry from our modern concept. We should remember, however, that Alexander had a great interest in medicine and learned from Aristotle everything he could. Healing illnesses with plants and specific concoctions was one aspect but stitching the soldiers’ cuts back together and cleaning their wounds was another.

If we consider the many cases of trepanation that were successfully carried out since the Neolithic, we must admit that the knowledge available in antiquity is far beyond what we might think. Philip, Alexander’s father, lost an eye and survived the operation quite well. So did Antigonus Monophthalmus. Speaking of eyes, it is known that cataract surgeries were performed as early as 4,000 BC by the Egyptians. The list of medical wonders is probably endless, but the point I am trying to make is that the physicians in Alexander’s army were far more knowledgeable than we may believe. Cleanliness certainly was one of the main requirements. 

Early last century, for instance, it was essential to wash a bleeding wound with water and soap. This has been done for centuries and may well have been applied by the caretakers in antiquity. In my own youth, when a wound was infected, it was to be soaked repeatedly in hot water and soda. The ancients may well have used something similar to soda. The technique of cauterization was known long before the early trappers in the American West, and that knowledge was inherited from earlier generations. A hot knife, dagger, or even a sword would seal the wound and kill the bacteria at the same time.

It has been reported that Alexander visited the wounded after the battle. Going from one soldier to the next, he listened to their report, how they had been injured, acknowledged their courage, and showed them respect. I am sure that the king checked their wounds and how they were treated. The caretakers and physicians were watched closely by Alexander because he, himself, had considerable knowledge of healthcare and medicine. In the end, he gave his soldiers and the caretakers a huge boost in morale. There cannot have been a better medicine than that. In the end, this may well be the secret to justify the low rates of mortality among the Macedonian troops.

What about the wounded enemies, one might wonder? Well, I don’t think that the Macedonians were inclined to show much pity, if any, to their adversaries. They were not in for half measures, just as Alexander wasn’t. For them, the enemy had to be eliminated. I would doubt if any of the wounded were left behind with some breath in their lungs. 

When the enemy, however, asked to retrieve their dead to give them a proper burial, Alexander did not refuse. We’ll remember how he even sent the body of Darius III back to his mother to accomplish the funeral according to Persian customs. On an earlier occasion, at Issus, the king had also given the Queen Mother permission to bury the Persians from the battlefield. The recovery of wounded enemy soldiers is never mentioned.

The soldiers who died in Alexander’s service always received an appropriate burial with full honors. After the Battle of the Granicus, Alexander instructed Lysippos to create a bronze memorial for the 25 cavalrymen who had fallen on the battlefield. For several centuries, it stood in Dion, the sanctuary of Macedonia.

The list of lavish and expensive burials is a long one. I relied on Frank Holt’s account, as mentioned in his book “The Treasures of Alexander the Great”. For the soldiers as a group, there was a burial at Issus in 333 BC, Ecbatana in 330 BC, on the Polytimetus River in 329 BC, and Sangala in 326 BC. Personal and more elaborated funerals took place in honor of his generals/companions, Hector in Egypt in 331 BC, Nicanor in Alexandria Ariana in 330 BC, Philip and Erigyius in Sogdiana in 327 BC, Demaratus in 327 BC, and Coenus on the Hydaspes River in 326 BC. Also to be mentioned is the gymnosophist and sophist Calanus from Taxila, who immolated himself in Susa in 324 BC. Last but certainly not least was the expensive funeral pyre that Alexander had built for his dearest Hephaistion who died in Ecbatana in 324 BC.

Clearly, nothing was too good for the dead.

[The picture of the battlefield is from Oliver Stones' movie Alexander]

Fresco of a Macedonian at Boscoreale

The Archaeological Museum of Naples has a very rich collection of frescoes coming from the many cities that were buried by the ashes of the Vesuvius in 79 AD.

The first cities that spring to mind are, of course, Pompeii and Herculaneum, but there are many more resorts in the Bay of Naples that were occupied by the rich and the famous in the first century AD. To name just a few, we may remember, besides Boscoreale, cities like Stabiae, Pozzuoli, Cuma, Baiae, Portici, Boscotrecase, and the nearby islands of Capri and Ischia.

It is hard to single out the most beautiful, most original, most telling, or the most colorful fresco. Some pieces have been reassembled to reflect the room in which they originally stood, and others are lonely images of a framed item.

One of the frescoes that truly catches my attention is this one from Boscoreale. It was retrieved from the Villa of P. Fannius Synistor and shows clear Macedonian links as the main figure wears the typical kausia and has a Macedonian stared shield standing next to him. According to some sources, it may depict Antigonus II Gonatas (the son of Demetrios I of Macedonia) and his mother Phila, or simply be the personification of Macedonia and Asia/Persia. The lone standing figure to the left has been labeled as a philosopher.

Many more frescoed panels of the same villa have been acquired at some stage by the Metropolitan Museum in New York, where a so-called cubiculum has been entirely reconstructed.

The overall link with Macedonia has been developed in my earlier post about the Alexander mosaic. 

The Villa of Boscoreale was probably built around 40-30 BC and had three stories. The ground floor alone counted more than thirty rooms, including several Peristyle or inner courtyards. After its discovery in 1900, it was only partially excavated, and most of the remains were reburied for safekeeping.

Phidias, architect and sculptor

One of the most recurrent names of Greek sculptors is undoubtedly Phidias. He lived in the days of Pericles, Athens’ Golden Age. His best-known masterpieces were completed in the years between 465 and 430 BC.

The first Persian War of 490 BC ended with the Battle of Marathon. The second Persian invasion in 480 and 479 BC led to the fire of Athens and its Acropolis. The Athenians who had sought refuge on the nearby island of Salamis could only watch on. As a result of these wars, Athens had to be rebuilt, and Themistocles’ priority was to protect the city. He erected a protective wall using much of the rubble from the destroyed buildings.

The restoration of the Acropolis happened only some thirty years later. That enterprise was led by the statesman and orator Pericles, who came to power around 461 BC. He had befriended Phidias, who was already a celebrated artist. He put him in charge of rebuilding the Parthenon.

Rebuilding the Parthenon was no small affair. Phidias functioned as a modern general manager and supervisor and had to take care of almost every detail. The new design was meant to boost Greek morale and express the courage of the Greeks who had defeated the Persian invaders.

The modern restoration works at the Parthenon have revealed many subtle construction elements that were hitherto unknown. Isn’t it amazing to find out that the true genius of Phidias surfaces only 2,500 years after his death? Thanks to modern technology, we can genuinely appreciate the complicated arithmetic and geometric correlation in calculating the temple’s proportions. And there is an overall inter-relationship between its height, width, and depth that has never been surpassed. As described in an earlier blog (see: The perfection of a Greek temple), the entire concept of the Parthenon is just perfect. The eye is being tricked, for there is no single straight line in the whole construction!

Many original friezes and reliefs have now been moved to the New Acropolis Museum. The way they are exhibited helps us understand the concept of the entire project as the sequence of the scenes unfolds to the visitor walking past.

Under Pericles, Phidias constructed a giant nine-meter-high statue of Athena Promachos in bronze. It stood between the Propylaea (the actual entrance to the Acropolis) and the Parthenon and could be seen far out at sea. Another statue of Athena was erected inside the Parthenon. This was a chryselephantine statue that stood twelve meters tall. It was covered with ivory and gold. Athena was easily recognizable to all, with the head of Medusa on her shield and her characteristic helmet. As extra references, she carried the image of Nike, the goddess of Victory, in her right hand and held her spear with her left. At her feet, a small pond filled with oil was added to moisturize the fragile ivory, creating a soft reflection of her features at the same time. This Athena was dedicated in 438 BC, i.e., almost ten years after its conception. Please note that this was only 100 years before Alexander the Great was born. He must have seen her in all her glory!

Very soon afterward, Phidias’ started his greatest masterpiece, which became one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. We are talking about the famous statue of Zeus, conceived especially for the Temple of Zeus in Olympia, completed in 432 BC. It stood in the inner temple and is beyond our imagination. In antiquity, it was described as an acrolith, i.e., made of a wooden frame covered with ivory and gold (see also: The ladies of Morgantina), with inlaid eyes. Zeus was crowned with an olive wreath. In his right hand, he held an elephantine statue of Nike, the goddess of Victory, while in his left hand, he held the divine scepter. Although the father of the gods was seated, the statue stood 12.4 meters high, meaning that his head nearly hit the ceiling. Just like for the Athena inside the Parthenon, the ivory body parts of Zeus were regularly rubbed with oil. A shallow oil reservoir in front of the statue also acted as a reflecting pool (see: Olympia, in the footsteps of Pausanias).

Working from his nearby shop in Olympia, it took Phidias eight years to complete this wondrous statue. His quarters were built primarily to house this work of art. The place has been identified thanks to a small terracotta cup unearthed within its walls carrying the inscription “I belong to Pheidias.” His house must have emanated prestige and elegance fitting a renowned and accomplished artist.

Sadly, no originals of Phidias’ work have survived. All we have are copies usually made by the Romans several centuries later. The artist is known for creating a dedication in memory of Marathon and a large bronze in Delphi that combined Apollo and Athena with several attic heroes. We can be assured, however, that he influenced countless artists all over the Mediterranean for many centuries.

Phidias died in 430 BC, probably shortly after having completed his Olympian masterpiece, but the circumstances of his death are shrouded in mystery.