Etruscan Art - Notes

Chapter 13 Middle Archaic Painting and Metal Reliefs
[Note: References to plates are included in the text. The plates are not included in this computer document.

I N D E X

Pontic Amphorae and Boccanera Slabs
The Paris Amphora in Munich
Boccanera Slabs


Not included here:
Metal Reliefs from Umbria
Castel San Mariano
Loeb Tripods

T E X T
Pontic Amphorae and Boccanera Slabs
The Paris Amphora in Munich. The mythological vogue continued after the middle of the century. Perhaps as a consequence of this new interest in subject matter, paintings and reliefs became the preferred arts of Etruria throughout the second Archaic period. Indeed, compared with contemporary Greece, the condition of Etruscan art about this time seems curiously out of balance. The steady progress of Greek statuary attracted little attention. On the other hand narratives in which art rivals the spoken word were eagerly received. Their themes were no less Greek, as far as we can tell, but for the general development of Etruscan art they held a special significance. The freedom to deal not only with images in isolation but with meaningful relations between the images came to Etruria much more abruptly than was the case of Greece.

About the same time the first Etruscan atelier of painted vases in the Greek Archaic manner opened shop. It was probably located at Vulci, where most of its products were discovered. Its output, as we know it today, forms a small but interesting group of pottery which by a misnomer became known as 'Pontic' vases.[1] The finest specimen extant is the famous amphora in Munich with the Judgement of Paris; it is also one of the oldest among the works attributable to the artist who, from this vase, was dubbed the 'Paris Painter' [100, 101]. Different from the Monteleone chariot, the decoration of this fine vessel can hardly be suspected of veiled symbolism; it is a frank piece of story-telling. Employing his clay vase as a convenient painting ground, the artist, unknown by name but certainly Etruscan by style, produced a delightful bit of mythical illustration which, for its fine finish and display of gay detail, might be likened to a book illustration, had such illustrations then been invented.

The ovoid, carefully moulded shape of the amphora with its comparatively short neck at once shows the influence of Greek formal discipline. The ornamental zones are decorated by square meanders alternating with star-flowers in the manner of a chequerboard pattern. Some very fantastic monsters, elegantly drawn, prance along the frieze near the bottom. But the focal point of interest to the artist was obviously the figured representation, for which the two large shoulder fields were reserved. Although the composition is formally broken up into two parts by the interfering handles, it renders a unified context. Actually one 'reads' this vase by turning it round in one's hand: then the antithetical character of the two framed pictures becomes at once apparent. They confront each other like question and answer; the situation, definitely, is in the nature of dialogue.

A conversation is indeed carried on across the handle, between the cowherd prince, Paris, on the one side and an old man with a speaker's staff on the other. The latter is not so easy to name; perhaps Zeus in some disguise more likely than Priam. Young Paris with long, fine curls seems surprised, understandably; he is also a little curious. Behind him throng the royal cattle, in the care of a dog with hanging tongue. A defiant-looking raven perches on the back of the animal nearest to Paris, much in contrast to its master's politely trusting attitude. Meantime on the other side Hermes turns round to give last-minute advice to the contestants. Matronly Hera unveils herself--a gesture which for her is almost an attribute. Knowledgeable Athena argues; and fashionable Aphrodite trips forward gathering her skirt. I agree with those [p. 153] who find humour in this scene, though I think this lies more in the gestures and the situation as a whole than in the faces.

Yet another peculiar implication of this little painting must not go unnoticed. After all, the meeting of the famous protagonists, which is what we see, relates their story only up to a certain moment. This moment appears rather preliminary. The painting does not really constitute an action but instead marks the beginning of one, namely the exchange of words which will eventually lead to an action. The visit of the goddesses to Mount Ida led to many portentous events. But not even the contest for which they came is truly shown, let alone the war of Troy and all the later happenings. The explanation is that a rather special, Greek attitude has here prevailed. This attitude must be briefly commented upon, because it established a new principle of composition. As such it added an important aspect to the fabric of meaning--the accepted symbolism of visual images--which with us still defines the domain of art.

In these representations, interest switches from the rendering of an event to a merely preparatory moment. Thus the future, suggesting suspense, becomes implied in the present; and instead of a consummated action the work of art stages a situation in the making. Knowledge of the future the observer must supply. To the measure that he is able to do so the situation before him becomes transparent; it is no longer a closed event. Such a method of composition does not require the actual illustration of progressive episodes, because it rests on a principle more subtle than the explicitly continuous narratives. The principle is to visualize the factors which have shaped, and which continue to be active in, on particular situation; as long as we recognize this moment as a consequential one, the dimension of time, properly invisible, falls within the range of its meaning. Because works of art so conceived appeal to a sense of impending future, time really becomes their leading theme; and art can play on the contrast between the apparent present and the eventual outcome, still veiled at the moment shown but already known by the observer.

Nothing indicates the Greek myths reached Etruria in a written form at this early period. Yet somehow they must have spread, as they became propagated by imported Greek art and re-told by Etruscan artists.[2] There are signs that a rise in cultural level, literacy, and refinement indeed occurred about this time among the upper strata of Etruscan society. Artists had an important share in this development, if the monuments can at all be taken as a cultural index. The Paris Painter must be counted among their number. He was thoroughly versed in Greek art; he also knew the Greek stories and could handle them ingeniously. In his style the Ionian element predominates, down to the details of dress such as the pointed caps[3] which from here on for a while were to remain a hallmark of the Etruscan monuments, although their origin was in Anatolian and eastern Greek fashions ; the same is true of the pointed boots worn by the women. Fabrics are richly decorated, but folds are not yet shown in the garments. All in all the Munich amphora demonstrates the turn towards an Ionicizing art and Ionicizing culture in Etruria. It may be dated approximately to the decade between 440 and 540.

The further development of the Pontic vases cannot be discussed here, for lack of space. The workshop remained active throughout the next few decades and probably till the end of the century, a period beyond the scope of this chapter.[4] What must be stressed, rather, is the general importance which accrued to painted vases at this time as the prime vehicles for the distribution of Greek myths in Etruria. The vase painters, before others, can be relied upon to represent a story for its own sake: for the entertainment it provides. To them a myth need be neither a metaphor nor a personal allegory, as often happened in funerary symbolism. More often than not their work was story-telling pure and simple; and beyond the events told and retold, no afterthought was invited.

Boccanera Slabs
Wall decorations of a new kind appear in Caere about the same time. They were painted on [p. 154] terracotta slabs thinly coated with plaster, in which a design was first sketchily traced, then filled out with paint. The technique was Greek--Kraton of Sikyon was credited with its invention--and known as painting on 'whitened slabs'; it could be applied to wooden as well as clay tablets [pinakes].[5] The Etruscan examples on terracotta have come to light in various ambients, but the two most interesting sets with large figured representations both hail from tombs. Of these, the one now in London[6] and known from its discoverers as the Boccanera slabs seems of a slightly older style than the second, otherwise closely related, which by way of the former Campana Collection passed into the Louvre in Paris [pp. 174-5].

The Boccanera set consists of five large upright plaques which were originally attached to a wall. At least three of them appear to have been placed side by side so as to form a continuous decoration [102-4]. Clearly they constitute an attempt at monumental wall painting in the sense stipulated above [Chapter 10, Note 4]. The principle of decoration itself is interesting. The figured frieze rests on a decorative zone of broad, vertical stripes painted alternatingly red and white. The pattern thus resembles a lattice fence, much like the one represented on a later occasion around the interior walls of the Emperor Augustus's Altar of Peace in Rome.[7] A triple guilloche forms the upper frame of the frieze. Two of its intertwined bands are covered with black dots, and the whole design gives a rich effect, anticipating the incrustation's of the so-called Cosmati Style. But, again, the principal [p. 156] object of interest was the figures. Two neatly drawn sphinxes, each seated with one paw raised, may have served as guardians on either side of the entrance; the three figured panels probably decorated the rear wall of the tomb. The composition is quite Early Archaic. Something specific was obviously represented, but entirely in the manner of the conventional processions, and doubts about the meaning of the representations are therefore bound to arise. One thing is clear, however: the two processions are moving in opposite directions. One must assume that they render two different actions. Indeed there is a good likelihood that in spite of some obvious anomalies the scene to the left again narrates the Judgement of Paris; or rather it shows Prince Paris in a pointed cap politely conversing with Hermes, who addresses him, wearing a slightly tuscanized hat and an unorthodox bull-sceptre in lieu of the ordinary herald's staff.[8] Behind him Athena is characterized by a spear, though still without the helmet;[9] Hera follows with a branch of flowers or fruits; the eventual winner of the contest, Aphrodite, holding a similar branch, comes last, as in the Munich amphora. She is not afraid to show a leg and does so with gusto, as in the vase painting, if somewhat more generously.

The procession moving to the right is more difficult to explain. Two alternatives are put to the commentator. The first is that this represents an actual event, for instance a procession of women carrying gifts to the dead or the tomb. This assumption might explain the fact that two women hold perfume bottles and the third, barefoot, carries a round covered box; it does not explain the conspicuous figure to the right round whose chiton a snake is coiling. Because her character does not seem at all real, I prefer the second alternative: that this group, too, forms part of a mythological theme. A possible suggestion seems the wedding of Peleus and Thetis. Three goddesses are lined up to bring their gifts; the fourth with no gifts but encircled by a snake may tentatively be identified as Eris, uninvited and determined to start the chain of events which led from the Judgement of Paris to the downfall of Troy.[10]

The level of style in general agrees with the Munich amphora; so does the spirit of the presentation. But the differences cannot be quite discounted. The slabs show heavier forms, a trend towards monumentality perhaps, but they lack the crispness of the vase painting. Both monuments may be ascribed to the same decade approximately, but the Caeretan paintings differ in so far as they exhibit a sense of design slightly more modern and certainly closer to an Ionian point of departure.[11][p. 157]