For the past two decades textiles have been much in focus in studies of the Graeco-Roman world. The recent interest in the importance of clothes and textiles in past societies has led to an unprecedented stream of publications, conferences and research projects, which have formed a new and vibrant field of research. Dress was a central means of visual communication, and by placing dress at the centre of several scholarly investigations, recent studies have added much new knowledge not only about clothes in Greek and Roman societies but also about gender structures, social values, hierarchies and more.
Shoes and footgear were part of ancient sartorial outfits, but they have not yet attracted the same level of scholarly attention as dress. This volume emanates from the conference ‘Shoes, Slippers, and Sandals. Feet and Footwear in Antiquity’, which took place in the summer of 2015, at the University of Newcastle and the Great North Museum. In the introduction the editors state that the purpose of the publication is to ‘bring together the research of a number of scholars working on feet and footwear across several disciplines’ (p. 2). The volume contains fifteen contributions of various lengths, discussing a number of aspects of footwear/gear used in Greek and Roman contexts, but with an emphasis on evidence from the Greek world. Most of the contributions deal mainly with artistic and material evidence. Chapters 4–6, however, use primarily literary sources to discuss aspects of footwear. In Chapter 4 C. Caspers discusses how krêpides, sandals with a thick sole and straps, are presented in texts from Homer to Herodas, while S. Phillippo in Chapter 6 focuses on the role of footwear in the Oresteia. S. Molinelli, in Chapter 5, uses a combination of archaeological and literary evidence to discuss the possibility that, through archaeology, one can identify the location of the workshop of Simon, the shoemaker, with whom Socrates is said to have had discussions in the Athenian Agora. Sandals were common footwear for both men and women, and the use and meaning of sandals are discussed from several different angles, but most of them are based on artistic evidence. In Chapter 1 Waite and E. Gooch look primarily at how sandals hanging on the wall are represented in red-figure vase-painting. Such details appear in several different vase motifs, with both men and women, and most regularly in scenes with athletes and in domestic contexts. Sometimes, but more seldom, sandals on the wall also appear in symposia scenes. This chapter concerns the appearance and meaning of hanging sandals in particular, and although such vases have been found in many different places, especially in Italy, the authors argue that they ‘reflect an Athenian mind-set, regardless of where they eventually ended up’ (p. 39). Chapter 1 is the most extensive contribution in the volume, more than 70 pages (pp. 17–89), with a comprehensive discussion of sandals in red-figure iconography. The text includes several pie charts and an appendix of more than 240 items where hanging sandals appear. The appendix compiles detailed information about each item, which is very useful for anyone who would like to pursue further research on sandals in particular and shoes in general in Greek vase iconography. My only objection regards the illustrations. The text is illustrated with five images, one drawing of sandals (p. 21) and four photos (pp. 18–20), all of the same piece, the so called Shefton cup. Considering the extent of this contribution and the many examples of vases referred to in the text, some more images would have been a welcome addition.
Chapter 3 also concerns sandals: here Y. Young discusses examples of scenes where men and women are donning footwear. In vase iconography this motif appeared in late Archaic times, around 520 bce, and such scenes have previously been interpreted either as tying a sandal or loosening it. Young is inclined to see it as the tying of a sandal, but in the wider picture it marks the passage from one place to another. A discussion of the same motif also appears in Chapter 10 by Pickup. Here the sandal is related to the goddess Aphrodite, who is repeatedly represented in iconography as tying or loosening her sandal. Chapter 1 mentions that hanging sandals can come either as singular or in pairs (p. 35). Did people in Greek contexts sometimes use only one sandal?
Monosandalism, the wearing of one shoe, is discussed in Chapters 9 and 11, and concerns two men from literature and mythology: Jason and Achilles. In Chapter 9 S. Blundell focuses on Jason, who in the literary tradition and in some visual evidence is represented wearing only one sandal. Blundell speculates whether this could have been practised in real life too. She argues that it was plausible as ancient Greeks had a way of thinking in terms of binary oppositions and monosandalism may have worked as a link between nature and culture and have been connected to the cult of Dionysus, a god of both civilisation and nature. In Chapter 11 C. Chrétien investigates images of Achilles where the hero appears with only one sandal – as a possible monosandalos. In contrast to Jason, Achilles does not appear in literary sources described as wearing one sandal (p. 256), but in visual media the motif occurs on silverware, sarcophagi and mosaics. It is related to the discovery of Achilles on Skyros where he was dressed as a woman but revealed to be a man. Chrétien argues that this motif symbolises the transition from one situation in life to another, where the hero can reassume his true identity as a man. More single sandals, of a different type, are presented in Chapter 8. Here a group of late Archaic foot vases, oil containers (aryballoi) designed as feet in network sandals, are presented. The majority of them are found in graves (p. 203), and A.C. Smith suggests they were made in Euboea and that they may have been one of the earliest examples of mass production. As in Chapter 1, this contribution also includes an appendix with a list of aryballoi in network sandals.
In Chapter 2 the focus is again on red-figure vase-painting but restricted to symposia scenes where boots are placed under a kline. V. Toillon argues that Greek boots can be divided into two categories: those worn outdoors, ‘travelling boots’, and those used in scenes where women are taking a bath or in an erotic act, and the symposia scenes. The latter is often coupled with drunkenness but in a controlled form, with eroticism and musical ecstasy (p. 93). Symposia scenes where boots occur in connection to a man often include a walking stick – a symbol of citizenship and adulthood. Toillon argues convincingly that the combination of boots and walking sticks symbolises an adult Athenian citizen with obligations in society. Once boots are removed, the citizen is temporarily free from his civic duties and can relax and enjoy the pleasures of a symposion.
Some contributions deal with aspects of footwear in the Roman Empire. In Chapter 12 A. Backe-Dahmen combines iconographic and archaeological evidence of children's shoes and their meaning from Roman Italy and from some provincial contexts. Children wore the same kind of shoes as adults, but different meanings of a child's status can also be seen in appearance, in iconography and in grave contexts. The last two chapters deal exclusively with evidence from Roman Britain. In Chapter 14 A.T. Croom discusses shoe brooches from South Shields. Such brooches were unusual at military camps, perhaps because they may have been more favoured by women. Croom concludes with an interesting suggestion of the meaning(s) of such brooches – perhaps an individual choice of symbolism? In the final chapter the focus is on Vindolanda. Over 4,000 shoes of different types from the first to fourth centuries have been found there. This unique shoe assemblage offers many different approaches to study footwear used in the western Roman world over time. In this contribution E.M. Greene has chosen an unusual approach: to search for evidence of ‘intentional alterations of shoes for podiatric purposes’ (p. 319). Several examples in the material from Vindolanda show such alterations, which appear to have occurred more regularly in shoes with a metal bar on the outside of the heel (p. 314, fig. 15.1). Greene concludes by noting the role of shoes as an indicator of the wearer's status. Other contributions also touch upon aspects of status, and a clear example of how shoes can express hierarchies in power, gender and the function of an individual in a specific context is presented by E. Christof in Chapter 13. Her focus is the Antonine monument from Ephesus representing Hadrian's adoption of Antoninus Pius. The decoration includes a combination of historical individuals, real-life persons and mythological figures whose footwear differ from each other due to their status and roles in this particular context. The choice of material in an image can also convey something of the status of the commissioner as is discussed in Chapter 7. A colossal foot with no shoe on, in the Great North museum in Newcastle, is here discussed by A. Parkin. The foot is made of Egyptian red porphyry and is about three times the life size of a human foot (c. 88 cm long and 49 cm high). Porphyry is associated with the colour purple, and sometimes called ‘imperial porphyry’ (p. 179), as in Imperial times this was a colour closely linked to the Imperial family. Although the provenance of this piece is unknown, the size of the foot and the material point in the direction of an imperial statue or a statue of a divinity, and possibly from a Romano-Egyptian sanctuary in Italy. In addition to shoes as symbols of status, another recurrent aspect in several contributions is shoes as a symbol of journeys and transitions; either movements from one place to another or a symbolic journey such as marriage when brides had bridal shoes (p. 237).
This volume is a welcome contribution to studies of appearance, and it shows the importance of close (re-)reading of texts and of looking more closely at images, even at details such as shoes. Several of the contributions clearly show how such details, previously neglected, may add knowledge and lead to a deeper understanding of a motif already well known, when put in context.
