Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum.
Vickers, Michael
The guidelines for the compilation of volumes in the CVA series
enjoin a certain restraint on the part of their authors. They lay down
quite clearly that what is required in the text is a bare description,
dimensions and the minimum of comment. Dyfri Williams' new volume,
which deals with some Athenian pottery drinking cups in the British
Museum, provides the now customary illustrations and drawings to an
extremely high standard: the profile drawings demonstrate with admirable
clarity the skeuomorphic details of junction rings and grooves, while
the photographs have been expertly taken in order to avoid flares from
the metallic sheen of the vessels. These records are invaluable to any
scholar wishing to make sense of the material.
But Dr Williams offers more than a plain presentation of his pots: he
has taken the opportunity to restate the beliefs of a group of scholars
who, following the lead of the late Sir John Beazley, continue to
maintain that it is a worthwhile task not only to ascribe Greek painted
pots to particular named or postulated individuals, but to discuss the
social habits of those entities. Hence his inclusion of a series of
introductory passages summarizing the characteristics of typologically
similar' products in terms of 'painters' and their
'schools'. It may not be apparent to a casual reader, guided
only by this text and its bibliographies, that such touching attempts to
replicate the methodologies of Renaissance art history (though without
its essential documentary sources) rest on no discernible foundations.
The uncritical consensus which used to prevail among the small community
of scholars concerned with such matters has long since come to an end.
Since Dr Williams has chosen to cast his observations in the phraseology of an earlier generation of scholarship, it is incumbent on a reviewer
yet again to point out some of the realities of the way pottery was used
in the ancient world.
Such a picture can only be derived from the evidence of ancient
writers (and it is perhaps symptomatic that Dr Williams makes no
reference to any textual source earlier than J. de Witte, who wrote in
1836). A revealing insight into ancient attitudes towards table ware is
to be found in Theophrastus' characterization of the Mistrustful
Man. Apart from asking his wife after he has gone to bed whether she has
locked up the money chest, whether the cupboard has been sealed and
whether the front door has been locked, he is the sort of person who,
'whenever someone comes to him to borrow drinking cups he prefers
not to give them at all, but if it is a relative or close friend he
makes them a loan only after practically testing their composition,
weighing them, and nearly asking for someone to guarantee replacement
costs' (Characters 18.7). Purity, weight and value are
characteristics of metalwork, not pottery. A character in
Aristophanes' Banqueters owes a debt of 200 drachmas and repays it
with a silver drinking cup (and gold and silver plate was regularly made
up in round figures in terms of contemporary currency standards). It has
been estimated that the c. 860 grams of silver in this vessel could have
bought several hundred kilograms of painted pottery, even vessels by the
'greatest' artists. For there is no apparent differentiation
between the ancient prices for vessels decorated by 'good'
painters and those for 'bad', or even between figure-painted
and plain black-gloss wares. The money asked for this volume, for
instance, would in antiquity have bought more than 200 pelekai
attributed to Beazley's 'Achilles painter'.
One of the beliefs of the Beazleyite school is that the inscriptions
on pots in some sense reflect the world of the potter, and this despite
the 'signatures' of one craftsman on the work of another.
'Signatures' are in fact very rare, and occur on far fewer
than 1% of extant pots. They can thus hardly have been used for
advertising purposes, and the more frequent 'nonsense
inscriptions' (jumbles of meaningless letters: pp. 54, 63, 65, 66,
70) suggest that letters on pots might rather be a carry over from
designs of the kind we know were made for the crafts of silversmithing
and tapestry weaving. To use them as a secure basis for the re-creation
of the world of the potter must be an exercise in imagination rather
than reconstruction. The evidence of price inscriptions shows that the
vessels in question cost very little, and what is known of the
lifestyles and patterns of expenditure of the elites who were
universally assumed to have enjoyed the use of painted pottery, suggests
that ceramic -- no matter how well crafted -- would not have figured
large in their everyday experience. Such elites, so far as we can tell,
used gold and silver at their festivals and banquets; pottery was a
cheap surrogate and most surviving pieces were deposited in tombs by
societies who preferred to keep the family silver above ground for the
living whose need was greater. If the pots and their decoration are
sometimes of exceptionally fine quality, this may be put down to
funerary decorum rather than competitive connoisseurship.
The reassertion of a traditional picture, with no hint that
scholarship may have moved on, is sadly characteristic of a discipline
that has become stuck in a groove. It is only the highly introverted
nature of classical archaeology as it is still commonly practised --
isolated as much from the realities of the ancient world as it is from
other forms of archaeology -- that allows such phantasies to be
repeated. While genuine art history is both a lively and serious form of
scholarship, the quaint gentility of the study of what Stuart Piggott
has called 'twee Victorian vases' surely deserves its own
monument, viz. the Corpus Idearum Antiquarum.
MICHAEL VICKERS Ashmolean Museum, Oxford