The Hellenistic Grave Stelai from Smyrna: Identity and Self-image in the Polis
Paul Zanker
The cities of the Greek East, on the islands and along the Ionian coast, experienced a dramatic economic revival in the second century. BC.[1] They enjoyed royal protection and patronage and, at the same time, profited from the political stability guaranteed by Rome.
Kings and private donors rivaled one another in building stoas, gymnasia, bouleuteria, and theaters. But the more beautiful these cities became, the more their civic life tended to harden into ritual. Living in the shadow of such all-powerful patrons, the Greek cities tried to preserve their identity by looking back to past glory. In the gymnasium the education of youth followed the Attic model of Isokrates. Artists and writers drew inspiration from Classical antecedents.
At the same time, daily life in the private sphere was enriched as never before. Much greater importance was attached to the furnishing of a house with mosaics and paintings, expensive furniture, and silverware. Women wore elegant clothes and precious jewelry. It is as if society were seeking some compensation for the new restrictions on political life.
Although there is an abundance of preserved inscriptions, we learn little of how the populations of such cities really saw themselves. Even the longest texts speak of the same rituals that preoccupied the assembly and the council, especially the generosity of the euergetai and the honors conferred on them and on other deserving citizens. But we hear hardly
anything of what concerned the individual, or of the shared values that bound individuals together.
There is, nonetheless, one other rich source of original evidence as yet not really studied from this viewpoint: the countless grave reliefs of the second and first centuries. For ten years now we have had available the admirable corpus of East Greek stelai by E. Pfuhl and H. Möbius.[2] But for our purpose it is difficult to use, since the authors have arranged the reliefs strictly typologically, making the "language" of these reliefs hard to decipher. Only when grouped by provenance and in a roughly chronological sequence do they begin to speak more clearly.
The purpose of grave reliefs had always been to praise the exemplary character of the deceased, either alone or together with relatives still alive, to show their ethical qualities, accomplishments, service, and social status. The essential conformity of their visual language allows us to interpret grave reliefs as evidence from commonly acknowledged values. To some degree the stereotypical pictorial elements of the stelai should be comparable to the topoi of funerary speeches, though regrettably none is preserved from the Hellenistic period.[3] Just as in such eulogies, values are evoked in visual imagery like slogans, and certain patterns remain unchanged over long periods of time. But occasionally, historical currents that provide an interesting picture of a changing mentality seem to leave clearer traces in visual iconography than in literary texts constrained by formula.
Most Hellenistic stelai are not earlier than the second century BC , and they continue into the first. If we try to order the vast body of material roughly by city or region of origin, it is immediately evident that individual cities and areas preferred certain iconographic models and figure types, or even used them exclusively. In order to secure a firm basis for interpretation, we must consider the most important of these local groups in isolation from one another. In the limited space available here I should like to attempt this for the reliefs from Smyrna.
This choice is justified by the fact that the Smyrnaean reliefs constitute one of the most extensive groups, that they have a homogeneous nature, and that they are often of high technical quality. But, as I have intimated above, the results of such a case study must not be turned into broad generalizations, even though stelai sharing many features have been found in a variety of other cities, including Ephesos, Sardis, and
Kyzikos. In addition, the question of how the self-image tentatively reconstructed here fits into the broader cultural context of Smyrnaean society must, for the time being, remain open.
Stelai from Smyrna are relatively easy to recognize, even when the provenance is unknown or questionable. In addition to general conditions of style and iconographic peculiarities, the best criteria are the unique architecture of the stele and a remarkable external characteristic (figs. l, 2). There is an honorific wreath carved above the figures on many stelai containing the inscription
followed by a name and patronymic in the genitive. Since, however, by no means all the figures represented are so designated and the naming of the demos is always omitted in the case of children and of persons whose names are not yet given on the stele as they were still alive, it appears that this is a form of public honor for the dead unique to Smyrna, one awarded to many, though not all, citizens.[4] I cannot pursue here the interesting implications of this and also will not discuss the attribution of individual stelai. The reader may refer to the corpus by Pfuhl and Möbius and form his or her own judgment.
This study is based upon a body of about 140 reliefs, most of which probably belong to the second half of the second century BC .[5] A relative chronological sequence could be worked out on the basis of stylistic analysis but is not essential for the purposes of this paper. There is, however, one fact which can considerably diminish the results of this study: we have no information about the cemeteries or funerary monuments to which these stelai belonged. How did the viewer see these reliefs displayed? Did several stand side by side, as in Attic cemeteries of the Classical period? Does the standard size of the stelai correspond to a standard size of burial precinct, or were these stelai incorporated in tomb monuments of varying types that would have indicated the family's social status? At present we do not have the means to answer these sorts of questions.
I
On a Classical Attic stele, family members turn to one another, the key figures often joined in a handshake. Posture and gesture become paradigms of the society's ethical norms. The various schemata of standing and sitting and the arrangement of the figures according to their status are all signs that have specific meanings. Both the dead and the living are represented, with few exceptions, with beautiful faces, "beautiful" meaning ideally proportioned and without expression.[6] The only figures that appear mourning are servant girls and slave boys. Attributes and ornament are usually omitted altogether.
On the Hellenistic grave stelai from Smyrna (and many other cities), by contrast, the figures stand beside each other like statues, looking out at the viewer. There are clear indications that these deliberately imitate or include quotations from public honorific monuments or lavish funerary aediculae. The poses of the figures are precisely those of statues, and occasionally a socle or base is indicated.[7] In addition, the most elaborate of the stelai take the form of small aediculae.[8] In Smyrna, there are also the characteristic wreaths with the inscription 
inside. This type of honor from the popular assembly may be considered a kind of substitute for the much sought-after golden wreaths conferred jointly by the boule and the demos. It transforms the tomb into a kind of small public monument. The extensive series of empty socles itself bears eloquent testimony to the important place of honorific statues in the agoras of Hellenistic cities.[9] Such a statue was the quintessential expression of public recognition by one's fellow citizens. Some people set one up in their own homes when they were denied a public one, as is evident from the case of Kleopatra and Dioskourides on Delos (fig. 3).[10] The poses match those on the Smyrna reliefs exactly, and we may conclude that the latter truly reflect the commonly accepted self-image of the free citizen.
The pose of the body, the position of arms and head—these are the key elements of the visual language in which these figures are expressed.
Added to these is a rich assortment of attributes (absent from Classical stelai) which are to be read as symbols of the praiseworthy qualities of the deceased.[11] Among these attributes are male and female servants, usually also rendered in miniature. Again in contrast to the Classical grave relief, the difference in scale vividly emphasizes a difference in social status. Let us now attempt in more detail to decipher the individual elements of the pictorial language.
II
The men on the Smyrna reliefs are often depicted in a manner similar to Classical Athenians of the fourth century (fig. 4). The way the drapery falls or clings and the restrained movement match the honorary statues and grave reliefs of the fourth century, except for one interesting difference: the men now always wear an undergarment beneath the chlamys.[12] This also distinguishes them from the philosophers, who even into the Hellenistic period retain their by now stereotyped "weather-beaten" image. We may surely see in this adherence to traditional standards of conduct a conscious reference to what Greeks in many areas already saw as their past greatness.
The depiction of the standing male figure in the Classical schema, wearing a mantle, permits only a limited number of variations. The most significant of these is the pose of the arms, all the possibilities ultimately aiming at the same effect: a relaxed pose, controlled movement, expressing sophrosyne .[13] The most popular schema of the fourth century, with the right forearm, uncovered, held horizontally across the body and the right hand holding a drapery fold falling from the left shoulder, is now rarely used (fig. 4).[14] Instead, the right arm is usually tightly wrapped in the mantle (fig. 2).[15] That this arrangement is meant above all to show the arms in a position of confinement is confirmed by the equally popular pose of the left arm, and even the left hand, wound in the mantle (fig. 5).[16] This is the most powerful token expressing "restraint" in one's appearances in public. There is indeed a close correspondence here with behavior in real life, as the terracotta statuettes of
actors in New Comedy, playing the role of the "earnest young man," attest.[17]
Beyond this general significance, pose and stance were probably also meant to carry a more specific reference to political activity in the boule and ekklesia . This is suggested in particular by several reliefs that depict men in poses very similar to those of fourth- and early third-century statues of Aischines (fig. 2) and Demosthenes.[18] These are surely not, however, meant to invoke famous statues and particular role models,[19] but rather to praise an exemplary standard of conduct in an appearance before the demos. The particular motifs in question are the supporting of the left arm on the hip, the bending of the arms and stiffness of the wrist, and the advancing of the free leg. Demosthenes claims that his rival Aischines would imitate the great orators of the fifth century when speaking, standing still as a statue, with his hand always in his cloak.[20] The statue put up in his honor, preserved in Roman copies, seems to celebrate this public manner as a sign of self-assured competence. The motif of the lowered, linked hands, meanwhile, recalls the statue of Demosthenes. Despite considerable variations—in the statue the fingers are interlaced, while in most reliefs the right hand holds the left wrist—the message is again one of keeping the arms motionless while speaking. In the statue, however, the motif is endowed with a heightened pathos. The sculptor Polyeuktos wanted to show that Demosthenes was full of energy, that it was hard for him to remain still, but that, thanks to his own willpower, he managed to conform to the proper stance. In this way the statue may be seen as a deliberate contrast to that of Aischines.[21] The workshops that produced the grave reliefs used both motifs equally, in order to set varying accents while expressing the same basic, highly prized standards of conduct.
Unlike the women, who are always idealized and youthful, men are occasionally portrayed as individuals, even with indications of advancing
age (figs. 6 and 7, 8 and 9).[22] This is evidently a mark of distinction, as is the seated pose of older men, to which I shall return shortly. On Late Classical Attic grave reliefs one can already trace the way in which advancing age is accompanied by ever more positive associations.
Two stelai with particularly striking portraits have in the background a cornucopia on a pillar (figs. 6 and 7).[23] The single or double cornucopia is several times associated with individuals who held a priestly of-rice.[24] We may thus infer that this symbol, which is no doubt derived from the double cornucopia of the Ptolemies,[25] signifies not just a general prosperity but, more specifically, euergesia . Anyone who could buy himself a priesthood was entitled to be regarded as a benefactor.
At this point we may already suspect that the Smyrna reliefs, despite their evident dependence on more monumental honorific or funerary monuments, reflect not the self-image of a "middle class" (which I think did not exist), but rather a value system acknowledged alike by all free citizens.[26] The men on the stelai thus far considered could be said to present themselves as conservative, adhering fully to traditional behavioral norms of the Classical polis. But other elements and new figure types can change the accent and introduce into the image new standards.
Among attributes, the most important is surely the book roll. We see these often together with writing implements, tablets, and chests, on a pillar or ledge in the background (figs. 2, 10), in the hands of the nearly ubiquitous little slaves,[27] or frequently held by the men themselves (fig. 6).[28] The left hand may even be freed from the mantle for this purpose. The image, which would in later times become endlessly popular, was something new in the second century BC and, as we shall see, is of considerable interest as a symbol of the educated and cultivated man. The book roll indicates education and literary and philosophical interests. Its great popularity reflects the increased importance attached to a man's intellectual training and pursuits in the course of the Hellenistic age.[29]
On Classical Attic grave stelai of the fourth century only women are shown seated, and once in a while old men, on account of their infirmity.[30] The Smyrna stelai likewise seem to depict the older men seated, but here the motif makes an unambiguously positive statement (figs. 8 and 9, 11). The man is sometimes shown elevated and on an elaborate piece of furniture; he is a figure of authority. On some stelai he rests his head on one hand, sunk in meditation.[31] This is not, however, a sign of mourning, as Pfuhl and Möbius believe, but rather characterizes him as a thinker. A comparison with third-century statues of philosophers shows that these were indeed the models.[32] The iconographic parallel reveals the tremendous impact of the great thinkers of the past on those in search of a new identity. On one relief, now in Winchester College (fig. 12),[33] a dignified gentleman lectures, while ticking off his arguments on the fingers of his right hand, somewhat like the familiar statue of Chrysippos.[34] His wife is depicted as a priestess of Demeter. Clearly this is a distinguished family that played a major role in public life. Having oneself portrayed as a thinker and reader was evidently considered no less suitable than the traditional Classical type, at least for older men.
The new image as reader or thinker was widespread in the Hellenistic cities of the East. Sometimes the philosophically inclined citizen is shown seated on a proper philosopher's armchair,[35] and even the popular type of the funerary banquet did not preclude the use of this imagery.
There is a particularly fine example from Byzantium of the early first century BC (figs. 10, 13).[36] The deceased, an elderly man with ravaged face, points to the globe, like the muse Urania or one of the Seven Sages on a well-known mosaic in Naples.[37]
The great effort of thinking may occasionally be read in the faces of these "intellectuals," and this in turn has a bearing on the problematical interpretation of Late Hellenistic portraiture. What the modern viewer perceives as exertion or even grief in these portraits is no doubt meant only as a sign of mental activity.[38] Apparently the distinguished citizen
considered this a quality as worthy of celebration as physical strength, prosperity, good breeding, and other traditional virtues. Indeed, it was only the life of the mind that the Greeks now had to offer their new masters. The steady flow of Roman pupils into the flourishing philosophical schools of Athens and Rhodes attests to the success of the Greeks in promoting this intellectual image.
III
The stelai for youths and young men help confirm what we have observed thus far. While Classical stelai celebrated both athletic prowess and ethical virtue in equal measure in their depictions of the nude youth, on Hellenistic reliefs the youths are almost always clothed, and the only figures shown naked are the little slave boys. In the second century, at Smyrna and elsewhere, there was a distinct reluctance to show a youth or young man nude, and at most a partly bared breast might indicate an ephebe.[39]Paides and ephebes often appear beside a herm of Herakles or Hermes, the standard symbols of the gymnasium and palaistra (fig. 14).[40] The deceased may rest his hand on the herm, to suggest that he enjoyed a proper upbringing and has died young. Just as for adult men, intellectual training is stressed too, in the form of book rolls and writing tablets. Artists did not hesitate to exaggerate this aspect, as in the relief of a young man whose slave opens a container full of book rolls to show the deceased person's great enthusiasm for his studies (fig. 15).[41]
On the many stelai that emphasize in this way the importance of intellectual training, it is equally clear that athletic training was no longer the primary focus of Greek paideia. The ideal of a well-rounded education first formulated by Isokrates seems now to have taken root as a universal attitude.[42]
Victories in athletic or musical competition are not represented as
such, only alluded to in the form of a palm or wreath. On a particularly fine example in Oxford,[43] the deceased crowns himself with a wreath; in the background we see his tomb, an expensive monument bearing the young man's marble urn (fig. 16). Athletic achievement is now less important than the victor's proper ethical stance, which is expressed in the modest pose he assumes.
Boys and youths thus enjoy some of the same types of praise as adult men but assume a distinctly modest appearance. Typical of them are the lowered head and gaze shyly directed at the ground, as on the ephebe on the Oxford relief. This expresses their aidos , a quality to which the Classical period had attached great importance.[44] The Youth from Tralles is a particularly powerful expression of this.[45] In adult men, on the other hand, we may read the vigorous gestures and occasionally upturned head as symbols of energy.[46]
The symbol "Aidos" illustrates how even what appears to be a perfectly natural pose or stance can take on a specific meaning in the pictorial vocabulary of the reliefs.
Young people do not belong to a world of their own. At the tenderest age they are already viewed in their role as future citizens, whether men or women. Even very young gifts are already depicted as little ladies. "Sweet Nikopolis," whose epigram speaks of her "endearing whisper and gentle babbling little mouth," died at age two,[47] but she already has her own servant girl (fig. 17). Naturally, the herms, books, and tablets of the stelai for youths are nowhere to be found on those for girls.
Indeed, even for boys of rather tender years, reference is made to the paideia that they would have enjoyed, had they only lived. On the well-known relief of Amyntes in the Louvre (fig. 18)[48] a shield in the pediment proclaims his arete , while on the wall of the naiskos hangs the framed wreath which would have been his, had he lived to achieve his life's goal. The boy himself, meanwhile, plays and crawls about, like the child he is, trying to defend the fruit he holds from a hungry cock. The
lively scene, however, is presented as if it were a sculptural monument, on a molded socle containing the child's name, his playthings lined up in front. This example shows especially clearly that we cannot expect a unity of time and space on the reliefs. The artists make allusion to a variety of themes and subjects and arrange the elements at hand so artfully that sometimes a seemingly deliberate narrative context results. In looking at the relief of little Amyntes we are apparently meant simultaneously to remember the child as he was in life, at play, to think of the costly monument that his parents set up to his memory, and to be sadly reminded, by the herm, shield, and wreath, that he died so young.
IV
The image of women on the reliefs is almost more stereotypical than that of the men.[49] With few exceptions, sculptors depict all women in the same pose, the so-called pudicitia type (cf. figs. l, 3, 19, 20, 21, 22).[50] This is true even of the few seated women, whose maturity, as for men, is presumably conveyed in this manner. The type enjoyed considerable popularity throughout the Hellenistic world. It must reflect the image of women at this time. But before interpreting the meaning of this statue type, I would like first to consider what it is about women that the reliefs celebrate.
A relatively small variety of attributes and iconographical tokens expresses the female virtues and qualities considered worthy of praise. Instead of a book roll a woman has jewelry or items from her toilette. Large, usually open jewelry boxes, mirrors, alabastra, and combs are displayed on a shelf or pillar in the background, or are held by servant girls. The sun hat and fan also belong here: the woman is a creature of luxury, preening and delighting in little pleasures (cf. figs. 9, 20). We never see her engaged in any activity or holding anything in her hand. The wool basket, a traditional attribute almost indispensable on the stelai (cf. figs. 1, 20), is thus no longer primarily a symbol of the housewife who actually did her housework, but evidently had a broader connotation, as a symbol of feminine virtue and obedience.[51] In fact the reliefs take great pains to make it clear that the deceased was so well off that she never had to lift a finger. Even the most modest stelai include a slave
girl—usually two, though two is the limit.[52] It is as if to say, the proper household requires a staff of two, and any more would be excessive. Theokritos' poem about the women at the festival of Adonis (15, 24; 68f.) suggests that in this instance too the visual image is an accurate reflection of real life.
Just how closely the pictorial language of the stelai is able to reflect real-life situations is evident on those few reliefs that depict a woman leaving home to appear in public (fig. 23).[53] She moves slowly in her tight, elaborately draped mantle, while servants fuss over her in a flurry of activity. Parasols on the shelf conjure up the setting in our minds,[54] a picture already familiar from the world of Early Hellenistic terracottas.
Two servant girls always assume complementary poses, just like the two slave boys on the stelai for men (figs. 20, 22). While one looks attentively toward her mistress, the other stands immobile, waiting for her next command.[55] Sometimes the servants display their diligence in caring for the children. Nurses enjoyed a higher status and thus are depicted on a larger scale (fig. 23). A garment falling from the shoulder is a typical sign of a nurse's dedication.[56] A servants devotion reflects well on her mistress.
The children in such scenes may be distinguished from the little servants primarily by their liveliness, though otherwise they function just as much as attributes (figs. 21, 23).[57] Bearing children is a woman's duty, though no more than two are ever shown. This too may reflect a sense of propriety, when we recall that exposure of children was expected, especially of girls in prosperous families. Women rarely pay attention to their children, or even notice them. Compared with the images of intimacy between mother and child on Attic grave reliefs,[58] the different iconographic conventions of Hellenistic stelai are especially striking. Here the image of statuesque dignity is clearly more highly prized than the expression of emotion. This is astonishing, in view of the well-known preoccupation of Hellenistic poetry and art with feminine psychology.
This observation suggests a more general characteristic of the iconography of the Smyrna stelai, which is also true of most other Hellenistic
funerary reliefs: the stelai are never concerned with private or personal matters, only with a public presentation embodying universally accepted norms of behavior. The stereotyped forms are the products of conscious constraints. Was it perhaps the fear of being misunderstood or committing a faux pas? Within this seemingly open commercial city on the coast was a society that must have been tightly constricted indeed.
One result of all this is a noticeable difference between the messages conveyed by the funerary epigrams and by the reliefs. Hellenistic epigrams invariably speak of personal misfortune: the loss of both children at once, the early and tragic death of a family member, most of all the grief and suffering of the survivors. The imagery of the epigrams is sometimes downright pathetic and moving. Yet everyone in the reliefs, both the deceased and their survivors, displays the expected, exemplary behavior, without a sign of grief or pain.[59]
A wealthy household is, of course, an accepted standard of success, and the world of women, itself so closely tied to the home, was better suited to expressing this idea than that of the men. One especially elaborate relief conveys the family's prosperity through a carefully rendered aedicula with Ionic columns, a doorpost with lavish curtains, and an unusually large jewelry box (fig. 21).[60] Another relief, reworked in modern times, with the addition of a modern inscription, shows, to the right of the deceased, her own rich tomb, including a statue of a siren playing a threnody on the flutes (fig. 22).[61] Epigrams praise the fine and expensive tomb monument as a token of a husband's love, a means of publicly proclaiming a wife's virtues. The stele with the heavy curtains also displays a kithara, to celebrate the dead woman's musical accomplishment, as do the epigrams.
But why, we may ask, were the pudicitia type and related forms so popular? What connotations were evoked by this type, repeated endlessly on the grave reliefs? Why did the same Hellenistic artists who often stuck quite closely to Late Classical models in rendering the men in honorary statues and grave reliefs so utterly refashion their women?
Hellenistic female statue types invariably emphasize hips and breasts, a departure from Late Classical types (cf. fig. 3). In fact, a corresponding change in proportions is evident in sculpture from the Early Hellenistic
on.[62] The eroticism is also emphasized in the draping of garments. Both the transparency of the drapery and the way it is wrapped tightly about the body produce the same effect, but they also remind us of the precious fabric and exquisite workmanship. Beauty and wealth go hand in hand. An attractive wife was surely considered among a man's most valued possessions, and it is, after all, his fantasies that shape the Hellenistic image of women. Refined and luxurious fabrics help to underline the charms of the female body and, at the same time, show off the family's prosperity.[63] We may at first wonder how the eroticism was reconciled with the well-known strict puritanical standards of conduct for married women. Certainly a glance at other Hellenistic genres, such as the terracotta dancers,[64] leaves little doubt that the erotic connotations of these forms is intentional.
But beauty in the sense of physical attraction and sensuality is but one of several qualities sought in a woman, alongside restraint, decorum, modesty (in Greek, sophrosyne, kosmiotes, aidos, eutaxia, semnotes ).[65] Pose, gesture, and expression must convey the whole range of qualities. The pudicitia type probably has nothing to do with mourning; rather, of all the Late Classical statue types, it best conveys modesty and restraint. Both arms and hands are completely hidden, which almost automatically results in a gentle bend of the head. There is literary evidence that both elements were indeed associated with behavioral norms (Plutarch Praecepta coniugalia 142). But, Plutarch goes on to say, propriety and seriousness in a woman should not lead to harshness and unfriendliness. She should be surrounded by charis , "so that, as Metrodorus [the pupil and friend of Epicurus] says, she does not, with all her virtue, make herself hateful." And indeed, these women in statues and reliefs, though looking so modest, with oblique gaze, not infrequently wear a smile (fig. 24). The paradigm of women on Classical grave stelai seems less constrained than on Hellenistic reliefs. Virtue is now more narrowly defined and is linked more directly to erotic charm. This may reflect the fact that in the second century the institutions of hetairai and pederasty had lost impor-
tance—at least in accepted ideology—while marriage and family were most highly valued.
One series of stelai, for priestesses of Demeter, employs a very different, almost grandiose statue type, one that allows much freer movements of the arms (fig. 25).[66] Interestingly, this type also occurs on the Pergamon Altar. Evidently, sculptors turned to the more flamboyant repertoire of Pergamene court art to find an expression of imposing dignity.[67]
This group of Demeter priestesses really deserves a separate investigation. But for our purposes it must suffice to mention one important point, the great variation in quality. Among the twelve or so stelai in this small group is one of the finest and most elaborate of all the stelai from Smyrna (no. 405), along with several whose workmanship is rather primitive. There is an equally wide range of sizes, from no. 407, at only 88 cm in height, to the familiar relief in Berlin which, at 1.56 m, is one of the largest of all. Since all of these represent priestesses of Demeter, we cannot infer from a difference in size a difference in family wealth. Perhaps the contrasts between large and small were mitigated by the setting within the funerary precincts. In any case, as this instance makes clear, we cannot make inferences about the social status of a family from the artistic quality and size of the stele.
Married couples and other members of the family are often depicted together on the stelai, just as in Classical funerary art.[68] But whereas on the fourth-century reliefs the dead and the living turn toward one another, the Hellenistic stelai from Smyrna usually present each figure like an individual statue (figs. 19, 24). Almost all look directly out of the frame, at the viewer, and the scene of dexiosis is rarely encountered.[69] The statuary type thus precludes the possibility of depicting the family bond. One customer's dissatisfaction with the standard type is evident from the tender and moving scene on a stele found reused in the Grin-zinger Cemetery in Vienna (fig. 26).[70]
The sculptor evidently had in his repertoire no way of indicating personal emotion or tenderness, yet this is just what the patron, in direct violation of normal practice, wanted. With the awkward position of the right hand, utterly inappropriate to the figure type, the artist has tried
to fulfill that wish as best he could. But this is a unique exception, and in general there is hardly any deviation from standard figure types.
This is especially clear in those rare reliefs that represent three adults. On one of these, still in Izmir (fig. 27),[71] a young man, who must be the principal figure, stands between a man clad in a chlamys and standing in the Aischines pose and a woman of the pudicitia type. The young man is depicted as the victor in an athletic competition by means of a servant with wreath and palm, a Herakles herm in the background, and his own bare chest. The man and woman are no doubt his parents. They have their own servants, the larger servant girl, looking on from above, belonging to the woman. Thus, each of these figures as they stand side by side is to be read as an individual unit. Even a most unusual relief, like that in Leiden (fig. 28),[72] cannot be interpreted as a "scene" depicting the grieving family. Rather the qualities emphasized are "reflection" and education. Looking beyond the young man standing at right, we see in the background a particularly large chest of book rolls on a pillar.
V
If we consider all the Smyrna stelai as a group, there emerges a remarkably coherent picture, but one not entirely free of internal contradictions. Though adherence to the traditional values of the Classical polis is quite strong, certain changes in emphasis with respect to Classical grave reliefs are unmistakable. The pictorial vocabulary is broadened, more subtly nuanced, and enriched, like the vocabulary of the Hellenistic epigram. More aspects of life are now visually rendered: literary education and intellectual pursuits; prosperity and the life of leisure, even erotic charms. But these ideals, though accepted by all the citizens, are now presented as the means to private, individual fulfillment. The life of the individual was, to be sure, still circumscribed within the narrow confines of the polis, which defined everything from the proper number of children and slaves to the correct size of the grave stele. At least this is how the world of the reliefs presents itself. No individual makes reference to his own particular accomplishments or tries to overshadow his fellow citizens, even at a time when in nearby Pergamon a flashy court style was at its height, almost crying out to be imitated. The artists of
Smyrna and their patrons must have consciously rejected this "Asiatic" style and held fast to their own standards, including aesthetic ones.
I earlier observed that the size and quality of the reliefs do not enable us to draw inferences about the wealth or social status of the families. Given the large proportion of fragmentary reliefs, a statistical comparison can produce only very rough indications.[73] Though the height varies from a low of 40 cm to a high of 1.70 m, the great majority of stelai with standing figures fall in the range 80 to 120 cm, while those for children are about 50 cm. There is, furthermore, no correlation between iconography and the size or technical quality of the stelai.
A few reliefs are instructive as the exceptions that prove the rule. The standard types of men and ephebes did not include one expressing military valor. Yet a small group of eight reliefs depicts warriors in settings removed from the polls and in an elevated vocabulary that even permits the use of heroic nudity (fig. 29).[74] But it is not the nudity of the Classical athlete; rather it is an arresting element drawn from the new iconography of kingship.[75] The isolation of the warrior, his elevation above his fellow citizens into a heroic sphere, only underlines the problematical relationship between a polis like Smyrna, utterly lacking in military might, and the great superpowers with their mercenary armies. In other cities and regions, by contrast, warriors and weaponry play a greater role and are more integrated into the overall iconography.[76]
Most of the stelai from Smyrna, so homogeneous in style and iconography, must belong to the years about 170 to 100 BC , that is, after the city had won its independence under the protection of Rome in 189 and before the Mithridatic wars.[77] Those few reliefs which probably fall into the first century already betray a dissolution of the common pictorial vocabulary.
VI
In order to draw reliable historical influences, we would have to submit the grave stelai of other cities to a similar analysis and compare the re-
suits. In so doing we would find that some other cities and regions, such as Delos, Rhodes, Samos, Kyzikos, Byzantium, and the cities of northwest Greece,[78] evolved distinctive sculptural forms and iconographies for funerary reliefs.
In Delos, for example, the iconography of Classical Attic grave reliefs lives on, and we find numerous paired figures turned toward each other and joined in a handshake, women seated on klinai, and (as in Rhodes too) quotations from famous works of art. In Samos, Kyzikos, and Byzantium, the banquet relief is the dominant type, while in Rhodes and Halicarnassus the hero cult becomes a standard type. Here funerary altars to a great extent take the place of stelai. Finally, in Epirus and northwest Greece, stelai do not represent the deceased at all, though they do imply a rich and subtle repertoire of nonfigural motifs.
Trade and commerce notwithstanding, no international iconography from grave reliefs arose. Greek cities of the second century evidently remained, to a considerable degree, culturally closed societies that cherished their own traditions and values.
Yet despite the variety of iconographical patterns in individual cities, many of the same ideas and values inform the reliefs from disparate areas. Both the Delian stelai and the banquet reliefs celebrate the new paradigm of the intellectual. The seated women on the stelai from Delos, even in their classicistic poses, are creatures of luxury so symptomatic of the new age; and the banquet reliefs, with furniture and table prominently displayed, offer a perfect opportunity to advertise a family's prosperity.[79]
Stelai similar to those from Smyrna have been found in many other places, of course, especially in the nearby cities, but also in some more distant areas. Thanks largely to a shared Greek heritage, elements of the pictorial vocabulary were apparently understood everywhere, making possible the export of stelai and the use in other cities of symbols favored in Smyrna or vice versa. Unfortunately, the means of transmission can hardly be reconstructed, but this is not crucial for our purpose here.
What is, however, striking and calls for an explanation is the fact that the banquet relief, which comprises the majority of the reliefs in nearby cities like Kyzikos, is completely absent from the second-century stelai from Smyrna. The widespread popularity of the banquet relief,[80] hark-
ing back to an ancient tradition, as well as the Hellenistic funerary altar, would require an extensive separate investigation. The use of the ritual meal as a setting is in itself almost emblematic of the new sense of withdrawal into the private sphere. The return to a heroic image may reveal private religious beliefs which now come to the surface with the decline in interest in the community of the polis. In any event, a shift in values toward the private sphere and the life of pleasure seems to me unmistakable. The sharply increased interest in the luxurious furnishings of private houses in this same period is consistent with such a trend.[81]
The contrast in self-image between a citizenry that prefers to represent itself in death with the standard type of the banquet relief and the people of Smyrna, who instead put their communal values in the foreground, may at first seem considerable. But most likely the absence of banquet reliefs in Smyrna has no relevance to the actual importance of hero cult in the city.[82] Rather, in Smyrna the image presented in funerary art was simply considered a more public, "political" matter than elsewhere, so that the banquet relief was perhaps considered too "private" a form for this purpose. In other words, the Smyrnaeans attached great importance to the perpetual evocation of their collective norms and values and, at the same time, to the suppression of the private and personal sphere in funerary imagery. As the popularity of the banquet relief and funerary altar elsewhere shows, this had already become a rather conservative attitude. The adherence in Smyrna to the values of the polis, especially in the statue types, seems somewhat forced. There is a sense of beliefs that feel threatened. It seems to me symptomatic of greater changes that the imagery of stelai like those from Smyrna so quickly disappeared after the Mithridatic wars, while the banquet relief still had a long life ahead of it.
1.
Oxford, Ashmolean Museum; P.-M. no. 435.
Courtesy of Ashmolean Museum.
2.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. Pb. 25; P.-M. no. 341. Kommission
zur Erforschung des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische
Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
3.
Delos, House of Cleopatra, portraits of Kleopatra and Dioskourides,
138/7 BC, in situ. Courtesy of École Française d'Archéologie, Athens.
4.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. S.N. Ns. 1; P.-M. no. 256. Kommission zur Erforschung des
antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
5.
Ince Blundell Hall; P.-M. no. 161. Courtesy of
Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
6.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. Pb. 27;
P.-M. no. 170. Kommission zur Erforschung
des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der
Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
7.
Detail of fig. 6.
8.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. Pb. 75; P.-M. no. 831. Kommission zur Erforschung des
antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
9.
Detail of fig. 8.
10.
Istanbul, Archaeological Museum, inv. no. 4845; P.-M. no. 2034. Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
11.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. S.N. Ns. 2 (detail); P.-M. no. 830. Kommission zur Erforschung
des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
12.
Winchester College; P.-M. no. 855. Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
13.
Detail of fig. 10.
14.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. L 91/8.3 (detail); P.-M. no. 114. Kommission zur Erforschung
des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
15.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. Pb. 77; P.-M. no. 132. Kommission zur Erforschung des
antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
16.
Oxford, Ashmolean Museum, inv. no. 1947.271; P.-M. no. 149.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archälogisches Institut, Berlin.
17.
Formerly Izmir, Protestant School; P.-M. no. 392. Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
18.
Paris, Louvre; P.-M. no. 804. Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
19.
Oxford, Ashmolean Museum; P.-M. no. 539.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
20.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. Pb. 26A; P.-M. no. 437. Kommission zur
Erforschung des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische Akademie
der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
21.
Formerly Izmir, Armenian School; P.-M. no. 415.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
22.
Verona, Museo Maffeiano; P.-M. no. 414.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
23.
Madrid, Museo Arqueologico Nacional; P.-M. no. 382.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
24.
Vienna, Kunsthistorisches Museum, inv. no. 1052; P.-M. no. 567.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
25.
Berlin, Staatliche Museen, inv. no. Sk. 767; P.-M. no. 405.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
26.
Vienna, Cemetery of Grinzing; P.-M. no. 524.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
27.
Izmir, Kulturpark, inv. no. 519; P.-M. no. 646.
Courtesy of Deutsches Archäologisches Institut, Berlin.
28.
Leiden, Rijksmuseum, inv. no. L.K.A. 1170; P.-M. no. 861.
Kommission zur Erforschung des antiken Städtewesens/Bayerische
Akademie der Wissenschaften, Munich; photo by V. Brinkmann.
29.
Berlin, Staatliche Museen, inv. no. Sk. 809; P.-M. no. 1439. See P.-M. pl. 210: 1439.




























