The Theater in Antiquity - I
The Theater in Antiquity - II
The Theater in the Middle Ages
The Theater in the Early Modern Era
The Theater in the Modern Era
The Theater in Antiquity
By Richard Beacham
Excerpt from Richard C. Beacham, Spectacle Entertainments of
Early Imperial Rome, (Yale, 1999), pp. 61-71.
The role of theatre in Roman political life appears to have
become more important both during Pompey's absence abroad on
military campaigns, and subsequently in the period following his
great triumph of 61. Both its dangers and opportunities were
formidable. Traditionally the provision of a permanent theatre at
Rome had been vehemently opposed on moral, political and security
grounds. The nobility had resisted a permanent site perhaps
primarily because its existence would compromise their ability to
manipulate patronage to their advantage. "Retention of the old
system entailed annual decisions to purchase plays, mount
productions, and construct makeshift stages and accoutrements that
reaffirmed senatorial control of popular entertainment" (Gruen 1992,
222). Now, in the increasingly volatile conditions of the late
Republic, earlier rhetorical objections to the supposed danger posed
by a permanent structure to public order acquired greater legitimacy
and force. As Cicero pointed out in 59 B.C., such venues in Greece
had frequently been the site of destructive events "when in the
theatre, untried men, quite inexperienced and ignorant, brought on
harmful wars, put subversive men in charge of public affairs, and
expelled men of merit from the city"(Pro. Flac. 16). Recent
events in Rome offered plenty of examples of unruly proceedings in
the temporary sites. But now as the Republican government and its
institutions were wracked by factional struggles, what had been
feared as perilous might be seen as desirable by one who knew how to
benefit from it.
As Pompey contemplated his maligned dignitas and loss of
prestige, the provision of a permanent theatre was distinctly
attractive. By tradition, returning triumphators had used some of
their war booty to build religious shrines as a lasting memorial to
their achievements. Pompey himself had dedicated a temple to
Hercules in 70, and erected one to Minerva in 61, probably on the
Campus Martius, together with the dedication to the goddess of a
large sum of money (Palmer 1990, 236; Diod. Sic. 40.4; Pliny
N.H. 7.97). But, as we have seen, by the mid first century
the surest way to secure the greatest (though transient) popularity
was through the provision of games. In providing a permanent theatre
Pompey could assert in a most graphic manner his political
pre-eminence by in effect "co-opting" for himself alone a prominent
form of display and patronage and an important means through which
to assert aristocratic control of cultural activity, which, by
venerable tradition and collective will, the political elite had
reserved for themselves. A theatre could raise Pompey's prestige by
in effect providing a continuous "triumph". The actual stagings, as
Cicero's account cited below of the style of the two inaugural
tragedies suggests, could be used deliberately to remind an audience
of Pompey's own spectacular triumph, and the building itself could
permanently display such evocative trophies as the fourteen
allegorical statues representing the nations conquered on his
eastern campaign (Pliny N.H. 36.41) which may eventually have
adorned the piers of the theatre's exterior arcade. But beyond that
it "would associate his name permanently with pleasure and detract
from the glory of whoever happened to put on a show there. For the
beauty of a theatre was that it could bear his own name" (Greenhalgh
1980, 175-6). Pompey would in effect "corner the market" in
memorable monuments.
The establishment of a theatre, particularly one of the size and
sumptuousness which Pompey had in mind, could (as events
demonstrated) accommodate a great variety of entertainment. It might
even provide an outlet for the type of "rough" theatre which was
probably not represented among the limited activities customarily
allowed to take place in the temporary constructions provided by
individual politicians and dedicated to a particular festival;
entertainments whose banishment from the popular street festivals
had caused such embitterment and reaction. While perhaps easing such
resentment by providing a new "civic" venue for such popular
expressions to take place, a permanent facility offered a place of
display and celebration which, unlike those in the streets, could be
both "stage-managed" and more easily controlled in any volatile
situation.
Pompey moreover, had the means to realize his audacious plans. In
addition to some fourteen houses and estates, and a considerable
inheritance from his parents and freedmen, he had accumulated a vast
war booty, much of which had been invested lucratively in the East.
Apart from the glory accumulating from such conspicuous and
extravagant munificence, (which might raise him in contemporaries'
eyes to the status of a Hellenistic monarch), the provision of a
theatre may also have appealed to Pompey on an intellectual level.
He was well trained in Greek and Latin literature, and had a circle
of artists and intellectuals as friends. Foremost among these was
Terentius Varro, the greatest of all Roman scholars, who had written
extensively about theatrical art. Pompey had fashioned himself as a
successor to Alexander and the master of the Hellenistic East. For
generations, prominent Roman statesmen and commanders had freely
"demonstrated not only enthusiasm for Greek culture, but
confiscation of it" (Gruen 1992, 248). What grander gesture, or more
extravagant demonstration of Pompey's status and ability to exploit
Hellenic culture for the greater glory of the Roman people (and
himself) could there be, than to adorn the City with the most
striking and venerable "icon" of all, a magnificent and permanent
theatre?
In September of 55, exactly six years after his triumph, and some
eighteen months after the fateful conference at Lucca which had
enabled Crassus and Pompey to share the consulship of that year,
Pompey held games dedicating the theatre, which may have been
substantially complete by this time, although the temple associated
with it was apparently not finished for another three years, and was
consecrated during Pompey's third consulship in 52 (Aul. Gell.
10.1.7; cf. Vell. Paterculus 2.48.2).
The games were keenly anticipated, as Cicero reveals in a speech
in which, as an aside, he dared a political opponent to show himself
at them. "We are close upon the celebration of the most elaborate
and magnificent games in the memory of man, which have no equivalent
in the past, and which it is difficult to imagine can ever be seen
on such a scale in the future." (In Piso. 65) The shows were,
of course, meant to be commensurate with Pompey's achievements at
Rome and abroad. In addition to a variety of dramatic performances,
there were athletic contests, music, gladiators, races and hunting
of wild beasts in the Circus. The last were not performed merely to
delight the public by displaying exotic creatures. The menagerie had
a message; it graphically represented the distant lands which Pompey
had subdued. Together with greater numbers of traditional animals
than had ever before been seen at Rome -- six hundred lions (three
hundred and fifteen with manes), four hundred and ten leopards and
panthers, and eighteen elephants -- Pompey displayed such novelties
as baboons, a lynx (possibly a gift from Caesar in Gaul), and, for
the first time on any stage, an Indian rhinoceros!
Although Pompey's popularity and acclaim undoubtedly soared with
the mass of spectators whose favour and taste were his chief
concern, Cicero's more fastidious (but private) opinion as expressed
to his friend Marcus Marius, must have been shared by a portion of
the audience.
“As for the Greek and Oscan plays, I don't suppose you were sad
to miss them... and, as for the athletes -- I can't conceive you
regret foregoing them -- you who scorned the gladiators... all
that's left is the hunts; twice a day over five days. Magnificent to
be sure; who can deny it? But what pleasure can a man of culture
derive from seeing some poor mortal torn to pieces by a mighty
beast, or some fine animal impaled on a spear? And even if such
things were worth seeing, you've seen it all before. I certainly saw
nothing new” (Ad Fam. 7.1).
Cicero's adds that "the last day was for the elephants, which
greatly impressed the crowd and rabble, but gave them no pleasure.
In fact there was a degree of compassion, and a kind of feeling that
this huge beast has a fellowship with the human race". His account
is echoed by others, including Dio who records that the elephants at
first refused to fight in the battle staged in the Circus protesting
as they "walked about with their trunks raised toward heaven"
(39.38.3), while Seneca describes how one of them put up an
extraordinary fight, attacking its javelin-throwing opponents and
tossing their shields in the air (De Brev. Vit. 13.6) . Some
of the beasts attempted to break through the iron fence separating
them from the spectators, who were so moved by their pitiful
trumpeting that they burst into tears, and cursed Pompey (Pliny
N.H. 8.21).
This undoubtedly militated against the aim of the festivities,
which was of course to glorify Pompey and ingratiate the masses. The
case highlights an important aspect of the potential and limitations
of the games as public relations exercises. Comparing Caesar and
Pompey, Yavetz comments (1983, 55)
“It is apparent that concern for the physical well-being of the
masses was only one factor. All Roman rulers bribed the people with
bread and circuses, and yet the one was popular and the other hated.
Seneca provided the answer: the giving is not the decisive factor
but the manner of its giving. The people were more easily swayed by
how a ruler did than by what he did, and respected the one who at
least took the trouble to appear popular”. (cf. Seneca De
Benef.).
Pompey, in attempting to secure popularity entirely by over-awing
the spectators, while remaining aloof from any expression of "the
common touch", had only limited success. Cicero recorded how in the
Clytaemestra of Accius a parade of six hundred mules carried
the plunder of Agamemnon as he returned from Troy and, amidst
hundreds of performers, some three thousand bowls were used in the
Equus Troianus (of Naevius?) to display booty upon the stage.
Evidently both the themes and staging were fashioned to flatter
Pompey's own triumphal militarism through mythological associations.
Cicero indicates that although the approach did not entirely please
the spectators, it did impress them, which may suggest the extent to
which "cross-fertilization" between the art of the theatre and that
of the public spectacle conditioned audience reaction as it viewed
the variety show laid on for the dedication.
But soon there was more to see and experience: the great theatre
itself, and its complex of public amenities, gardens, and displays
of art; hailed as Rome's most magnificent building. According to
Pliny (N. H. 36.115), Pompey's theatre could seat forty
thousand spectators, a figure which has long been doubted, but which
more recent work has shown may not be too greatly exaggerated, for
what is believed to have been the largest Roman theatre ever built.
The diameter of the auditorium was almost five hundred feet, while
the stage itself was nearly three hundred feet in width; equivalent
to the length of an American football field. Behind it the great
facade of the scaenae frons, which may initially have been
constructed of wood, probably rose to the full height of the upper
tiers of the auditorium opposite: three stories. The outer
semi-circular wall was composed of three tiers of engaged columns
carved from red granite, possibly with the fourteen statues of
Pompey's conquered nations placed around the perimeter (circa
Pompeium, Pliny N.H. 36.41). Although nothing of the
external structure of Pompey's theatre remains visible above ground,
it was probably similar to that surviving from the theatre of
Marcellus, erected forty-four years later. If so, then the engaged
columns of the ground level were Tuscan, the second level Ionic, and
the third Corinthian. This impressive facade was adorned with stone
and stucco and embellished with numerous statues of stone and bronze
(cf. Pliny N.H. 7.34). Hinting at the sumptuous architecture
and spectacle within, it formed a series of forty four huge vaulted
arches at street level, from which a system of passages and
staircases efficiently conducted spectators to their seats above,
using tickets precisely organized according to entrance, section,
level, etc.. This helped to ensure public order by eliminating
competition for seats or confusion and congestion in locating
them.
The most striking element in Pompey's edifice (although probably
not completed or formally inscribed until 52) was the provision of a
temple to Venus Victrix crowning the top and rear of the
auditorium and placed directly opposite the stage and scaenae frons.
It was the largest of several shrines along the upper rim of the
cavea in honor of Honos, Virtus, Felicitas and
Victoria (Pliny N.H. 8.20; cf. Suet. Claud. 21.1), "a
small pantheon of the political rallying cries of the Sullan period"
(Richardson 1992, 411).
Apparently this temple was constructed so that the monumental
ramp of steps leading up to it formed the central bank of seats in
the auditorium. It was said that when Pompey's political rivals
objected to a permanent theatre, he claimed that in fact he was
building a temple beneath which steps would be provided for watching
the games (cf. Tertullian De Spect. 10). Allowing for the
sophistry which was the privilege of a powerful man, the
circumstances do indicate the continuing integration of theatrical
performance and religious rites, and the custom of close physical
proximity between theatre buildings and religious shrines. Indeed,
according to Vitruvius, temples should be so arranged that "the
images of the gods may seem to rise up and gaze upon those who make
vows and sacrifices" of the sort customarily performed in the
theatre and their altars should always be placed lower than the
statues in the temples so "those sacrificing may look upwards toward
the divinity" (4.5.1; 4.9). By sanctifying his theatre with a temple
dedicated to the goddess to whom he credited his military victories,
Pompey both avoided any quibble about whether the provision of such
a building was an appropriate benefaction from a triumphator, and
helped to ensure the survival of a "private" monument glorifying an
individual in a manner never before practiced at Rome.
Curving outward from either side of the temple was a covered and
colonnaded gallery that extended around the top of the auditorium to
connect with the two large lateral wings of the scene building, the
versurae, which formed the recess for the (possibly temporary
and wooden) scenic facade and framed the stage (Fig. 13). At regular
intervals around the external perimeter of this colonnade were
attached the vertical masts from which projecting horizontal booms
suspended a huge brightly colored linen awning, the vela,
that shaded the auditorium. According to Valerius Maximus (2.4.6),
writing three quarters of a century later, the structure even was
provided with a form of air-conditioning; "Pompey was the first to
have water flowing down the aisles [of the theatre] to cool the
summer heat". The permanent provision of such luxuries, which
included as well the use of a fine saffron-scented spray
(sparsio), was undoubtedly a particular attraction intended
to please and flatter the Roman audience.
In addition to the theatre itself, Pompey's architectural complex
-- which was designed as a single integrated unit -- included an
assembly room or curia; a new meeting place for the Senate
which was dominated by a statue of Pompey himself, provided,
according to Plutarch, (Brut. 14) by the Roman people to
demonstrate its gratitude. Its prominent position was an unsubtle
reminder of Pompey's own political eminence before a Senate which
had too often displayed scant regard for it (cf. Steinby 1993,
334-5). Pompey also provided himself with a new residence
conveniently at hand a short distance away. Since, like the theatre
itself, its location in the Campus Martius was outside the formal
boundaries of the City (pomerium), proconsuls and other
officials holding military authority (including Pompey himself)
could attend while retaining their imperium; their formal
right of command. Pompey's showmanship had earlier been displayed in
the design of his first house, the vestibule of which he prominently
decorated with ships' prows captured from the Cilician pirates
(Suet. Gramm. 15.1; Cicero Phil. 2.68; S.H.A.
Gord. 3). Now adjacent to his theatre, he constructed an even
finer house, fashioned so that, in relation to that massive edifice,
it appeared according to Plutarch "like a boat being towed behind a
great ship" (Pomp. 40.5.; 40.9).
The house and curia were located within a spacious park extending
several hundred feet behind the theatre; the Porticus
Pompeii, which quickly became one of the most popular places in
Rome to stroll (Cicero De Fat. 8; Catullus 55.6; Ovid Ars
Amat. 1.67; Martial 11.1.11). Within were rows of trees, shaded
streams, and numerous fountains. It formed a rectangle, framed on
each side by the columnar facade of different buildings. The side
extending along the back wall of the theatre itself probably had
three great ceremonial doors (corresponding to those opening into
the interior of the theatre from the scaena), the middle one of
which was aligned along the central axis of the park, and was
balanced by the curia at the other end, which in turn was flanked by
two secondary structures to echo the tripartite arrangement of doors
opposite. Along the north side was the Hecatostylon, "the
portico of the hundred pillars." This great colonnade was festooned
with heavy golden curtains from Pergamum, and displayed a collection
of statues and paintings, some hundreds of years old, and all works
of outstanding merit and elegance (Pliny N.H. 35.59). One of
these represented Pompey's "role-model", Alexander the Great,
painted by Nicias the younger in the fourth century B.C.. Adjacent
to the colonnade was a grove of plane trees, and ranged along the
south side opposite were possibly markets and shops. The large
central court in between was evidently composed of a double grove of
trees (nemus) either running alongside an arcade, or with
rows of statues spaced between the trees (Martial 2.14.10;
Propertius 2.32.11-12). This park was used on the days of
performance as a place for the audience to promenade between the
entertainments without leaving the theatre complex or causing
disruption in the streets, while at other times it provided a
splendid recreational site for the Roman citizenry to enjoy whether
for relaxation and escape from the summer heat, or for amorous
assignation. As Vitruvius noted (5.9), it could also be used to
provide space for preparing the stage sets and machinery.
Pompey's complex was an amenity with message. To walk through the
central court of the park, along the sides of which trees and
possibly monuments were placed at regular intervals to emphasize the
perspective, "was processional in character, perhaps intended to
recall Pompey's own triumphal procession" (Gleason 1990, 10).
Moreover, the layout of the buildings, and in particular the placing
of the theatre and the curia at opposite ends of the site's central
axis, tended to raise the status of the former (crowned by its
temple) to that of a formal political space when faced from the
front porch of the curia which was also itself a sacred precinct
(Aul. Gell. 14.7.7). The entrance to the latter was dominated by a
huge painting of a warrior by the fifth-century painter Polygnotus,
which may have served to remind visitors of the famed military
prowess of its builder (Pliny N.H. 35.59). The
political/religious nature of the building dominating each pole of
the axis was therefore visually emphasized by being mirrored in its
opposite. Moreover, because the complex was located in the Campus
Martius, which -- in addition to its venerable military connection
-- had long been a place where voters were impressed by monumental
architecture (and from time to time bribed with largess or
hand-outs), in effect it extended and refined associations which
this area already had. But, beyond that, the site comprised Rome's
first "leisure complex", providing an alternative focus for public
life to that traditionally centred on the Forum. In that sense it
anticipated imperial practice, when such entertainments virtually
displaced the Republican electoral procedures and venues -- as well
as their by then obsolete political function.
After its construction and for many decades to come,
architecturally speaking, Pompey's theatre was "the only show in
town". Temporary stages continued to be built well into the imperial
period, and other politicians still sought to exceed one another in
the lavishness and ingenuity of their games, but nothing would
surpass Pompey's great edifice for over a century, until the
Colosseum was built.
Bibliography of Secondary Sources Cited
Gleason, K.L., “The Garden Portico of Pompey the Great”,
Expedition 32, no. 2 (1990), 4-13.
Greenhalgh, P., Pompey: The Roman Alexander, (Weidenfeld,
1980).
Gruen, E., Cultural and National Identify in Republican
Rome, (Cornell, 1992).
Richardson, L. A., A New Topographical Dictionary of Ancient
Rome, (Johns Hopkins, 1992).
Steinby, E. M., ed., Lexicon Topographicum Urbis Romae,
Vol. 1, (J. Paul Getty Trust, 1995).
