Abstract: The myth of the Phoenician princess Europa is well known in the Mediterranean. Images of the young girl on the back of a bull (Zeus in disguise) riding over the Mediterranean Sea are widespread in all kinds of media. The myth of Europa, on the one hand, is popular as an erotic story being depicted on decorative arts, and on the other hand, it is also integrated in local mythologies. Europa is a travelling heroine who in several places relates to mythological origins. The chapter surveys the occurrence of the figure of Europa in coinage all around the Mediterranean. It is apparent that she often is employed as a figure that connected communities with Greek culture; sometimes it was Mediterranean harbour cities which employed the iconography of Europa travelling over the sea, and sometimes also secondary connections were made to Crete as a prominent stop on Europa’s journey. Notable is how cities in her homeland elaborated on the myth. These Phoenician cities emphasized to the Mediterranean koine that the Greek heroine in fact was Phoenician. The figure of Europa thus is a carrier of Mediterranean connectivity.

Hipponax is one of the most enigmatic poets in Greek literature. His verses display a despicable and obscene world, in which the poet does not deny his participation. Clearly, the iambic genre is the field where his production flourishes. Yet, concerning the late archaic Greek poetry, such self-satisfaction in the indecency is striking and asks for an explanation. We are faced with two opposite interpretations: on the one hand, the old autobiographical one (‘the slums’ poet’); on the other, the hypothesis of a fictional stock character mainly shown in ritual contexts. I do believe there are, however, other possible interpretations. Hipponax’s work, or part of it, could be understood as parodic recovery and distortion (based on biographical foundations?) of themes and motives of sympotic poetry from aristocratic origin, of which the most evident comparisons are to be found in the Theognidea. A parody, which is as deforming and racy as it is conscious and polished, not less aristocratic than its models, related to transgressive and ‘indecent’ symposia. The coeval pottery shows some images of these ‘indecent’ symposions. Particularly, an Attic black-figure oinochoe (530–510 BCE), signed by Kleisophos as painter and Xenocles as potter, is taken into consideration.

This article discusses the formational qualities of Byzantine church decoration, especially icons. It proposes that the iconographic programs of Byzantine churches had a profound effect on the viewers by offering them models for faithfulness and virtue and facilitating their transformation into ideal Christian subjects. My intention is to show that icons in the church do not simply interact with the viewers, but also form and transform them. I explore how iconic subjects worked in Byzantine churches in light of Ivan Drpić’s important insight about the Byzantine self as fundamentally relational and as ‘a replicable likeness’. I wish to show how mosaics and frescoes in Byzantine churches could provoke transformational experiences for their viewers by inviting identification with models of faithfulness and virtue.

bishop, heresy, liturgy, martyr, orthodoxy, patriarch, procession. Byzantine Christology—the views about Christ developed in the Christian East in between the Council of Chalcedon (451) and the fall of Constantinople (1453)—continues and intensifies the creative adoption and adaptation of Greek philosophical terms, and the forging of a sophisticated theological glossary for Christianity understood as ‘true philosophy’. This conceptualisation of the faith occurs as a result of two concurrent phenomena: first, the assumed need for increasingly precise definitions of doctrinal orthodoxy to meet the challenge of perceived heresies; second, the ongoing transformation of Christianity from an apocalyptic and messianic Jewish sect of the Second Temple Era into the cosmopolitan faith of the post-Constantinian Empire. The Christological reflections of learned expositors of the Christian dogma and the formulations put forth by the councils cannot be understood, however, without keeping in mind the specifically ‘religious’ factor.Its unique and elusive parameters are revealed in practices of prayer and ascetical exertion, reading and interpreting sacred texts, liturgical worship and artistic creation. The present essay suggests that homilies, hymns and icons, generally, and their underlying Christian exegesis of theophanies, in particular, offer the proper entry-point and framework for understanding Byzantine Christology.

This chapter examines what the designs of coins may tell us about the communities that commissioned them. Religious designs featured predominantly, often the presiding deity of a city or a design which referred to it. Mythology and topography also played an important role, often rooting coinages in their localities, and there were references to events or contemporary personalities. Comparisons can be made in relation to artistic work in other fields, such as gems, with a special reference to those who were involved in their creation – the engravers of the dies from which the coins were struck. The engraving of coin dies appears to have been regarded as an artistic exercise, and the appearance of signatures on coins offers a window onto part of the chaîne opératoire of coin production.

The altars Vasari built in the Pieve for the Aretine lawyer Onofrio (Nofri) Camaiani and the important local confraternity known as the Fraternita dei Laici count among his least known commissions. Both altar tabernacles were destroyed, and the Camaiani Altarpiece was removed along with the other works of art in the Pieve during the church’s renovation in the nineteenth century. There was no Vasari altarpiece to relocate from the Fraternita’s chapel, for although he designed the architectural aedicule that was to hold it, Vasari failed to complete its altarpiece before he died in 1574. This chapter substantially expands our understanding of the patronage, history, precedents, original appearance, and iconography of those altars. Despite their differences, the Camaiani and Fraternita altars were important elements of Vasari’s artistic and architectural vision for the Pieve and integral parts of its Marian decorative program.

Prior to the Pieve’s radical renovation in the nineteenth century, Vasari’s Albergotti altarpiece decorated an altar at the end of the church’s left aisle. Its main panel depicts the Coronation of the Virgin and was originally commissioned by the Florentine Filippo Salviati for the church of San Vincenzo in Prato. This chapter investigates that early commission and the painting’s subsequent purchase by the Aretine lawyer Nerozzo Albergotti, thus providing a deeper understanding of the Albergotti altarpiece’s conception and complicated patronage history, as well as of its iconography and the ways in which Vasari adapted it to the altar in the Pieve on which it was installed.

Mycenae’s LH IIIA2-IIIB palatial stonework was spectacular, and attention is given here to the innovative construction processes and specialized stonecutting tools that elicited awe. A fresh look at Mycenae’s final three tholoi illustrates the strategy of conveying power through stonework. The chapter also assesses the semiotics of the site’s architectural sculpture.

This chapter considers the role of memory and archaizing traits at Mycenae during the LH IIIA2-IIIB period. Particular attention is paid to poros ashlar masonry, the monumentalization of Grave Circle A, and a visual tie between the Lion Gate relief and the carved shaft grave stelae.

This chapter provides a survey of iconographic themes found in the pottery, figurines, fibulas, terracotta, metalwork, jewelry, and seals produced across Greek-speaking communities. Rejecting a traditional assumption of close ties with the Homeric epics, the study combines two approaches to offer a more socially embedded understanding of image-making in early Greece. Examining the iconography within multiple contexts, from the types of objects on which imagery appears to their archaeological contexts and the material behavior associated with their use, reveals that not just politics but also social reproduction lay behind artistic development. Second, it demonstrates how expanding the discussion to the larger world of representations adds further dimensions to the ways in which the Greeks projected an imagined ideal society. Themes discussed include mourning, warriors and weapons, battle, hunting, horse culture, dance, abduction, divinities and religious iconography, animals, hybrid monsters, and mythic narrative. The developments of Geometric art can be understood as responses to the new complexities of social hierarchy and gender, access to the wider world, the growing integration of religious institutions into community life, and political alliances that constituted the experience of the city-state.

This chapter reflects on modern and contemporary narratives surrounding the modern ‘racing’ of the inhabitants of Hellenistic and Roman Egypt by focusing on two cases, each of which pertains to a local woman. Both of these women’s bodies have become, two millennia or so after their death, a racial canvas at best, and a battlefield at worst. The first woman is the one portrayed on a funerary portrait on display at the Louvre Museum in Paris. The second woman needs no introduction: She was Cleopatra VII, the last pharaoh of Macedonian-ruled Egypt.

Chapter 5 tackles the meanings and emotions an image can afford through its contents and form. The body of the image refers to the characteristics of the image, its visual features, pictorial composition, and material form, and how those together afford certain meanings and interpretations of the image in a specific moment in its life trajectory. The visual interpretation method is presented then applied on a case example of street poster images.

Arthurian topics feature in medieval mural painting and sculpture in architecture from the early twelfth century onwards. The ‘spatial’ aspects of these art forms were ideal for medieval patrons to represent and promote themselves to others. They competed through monumental art – be it in their own residence, a town hall, or a church – to show their identity and status. This chapter traces the main trends, iconographical topics, and influences, with consideration of the social and political function of the representation of Arthur and his knights in medieval monumental art.