Тамаш Петер Кишбали
Москва, МГУ
Tamás Péter Kisbali
Moscow, Lomonosov Moscow State University
kisbalim@gmail.com
Некоторые параллели в погребальной архитектуре
Македонии и кари в IV веке до н.э.
IV век до н.э. стал эпохой расцвета как для Македонии, так и для Карии, под управлением местных династий Аргеадов и Гекатомнидов. Эти локальные группы элиты обладали сходными амбициями и демонстрировали схожее поведение, особенно в области династической саморепрезентации. Формальные и технические параллели можно проследить и на примере монументальных гробниц. Сводчатая погребальная камера является ключевым элементом гробниц т.н. «македонского типа» (см. напр. «царские» гробницы в Вергине). В Карии мы тоже находим небольшую группу сопоставимых сооружений: это монументальная гробница в Лабрандах, «гробница Гекатомна» в Миласах, обнаруженная в 2010 году, и др. Хронология этих построек пока еще не до конца установлена, однако ясно, что они предшествуют завоеваниям Александра, и, возможно, были созданы раньше, чем самые ранние гробницы «македонского типа». Возможным удовлетворительным решением проблемы видится прочтение этих памятников в качестве двух частных вариантов поиска – македонского и карийского – идеальной аристократической гробницы. Совпадение архитектурных форм, в таком случае, является не результатом влияния одной области на другую, а отражением общих межрегиональных тенденций.
Ключевые слова: погребальная архитектура, древняя Македония, Кария, династия Гекатомнидов, свод
Introduction
The Argeads of Macedon and the Hecatomnids of Caria came from different backgrounds, but possessed comparable ambitions and demonstrated similar behavior. They aspired to dynastic unity and power in their homelands, and to integration into a system of competing equals in a wider Mediterranean arena. They ascribed to an aristocratic vision of life and afterlife, with an emphasis on feasting and hunting, and the heroization of the dead.
Thus, it comes as no surprise that 4th century Carian and Macedonian funerary architecture also demonstrates similar features.
In scholarship, this semblance is most often evoked in one very specific context: during discussions about the origin and development of the tombs of the so-called “Macedonian type”. Amongst the distinguishing architectural features of this group, we can count the use of barrel vaulting and the creation of false façades. Most examples of this group are dated to the 3rd–2nd centuries BC, with a small, but important set from the second half of the 4th century,66 including the “Royal Tombs” at Vergina. Since their discovery in 1977, discussions about the relative chronology and attribution of these monuments have been going strong.67
The general affinity of Macedonian and Anatolian monumental burials is recognized, and Anatolian (and in certain cases, Carian) inspiration has been proposed for several key architectural features of “Macedonian type” tombs, including the cylindrical vault covering the burial chamber, and the false façade. Out of all the different aspects of the Macedonian tombs, it is perhaps the question of the vault that has attracted the most irreconcilable polemics.68
Amongst the proponents of the later (“post-Philip”) date for the Vergina royal tombs, the idea is prevalent that Alexander’s campaigns and the “import” of ideas from the East69 jumpstarted the transition of Macedonian burial practices from relatively simple cist graves to built tombs with architectural façades. Regarding the barrel vault, Borza argues, as there is no evidence for the evolution of this type of vaulting in Greek architecture, the sudden appearance of this construction method can only be explained by “the Macedonians’ exposure to the concept in Asia”70. This is developed further in Eugene Borza and Olga Palagia’s 2007 article. They provide a list of Anatolian and Persian monumental tombs which predate the fully-fledged development of the “Macedonian type”. In their opinion, “the evidence of these tombs suggests that the development of Macedonian decorated chamber tombs may have resulted from influences that found their way home through the continuing exchange of troops in Alexander’s army”71.
The main problem with this argument is that it ignores the possibility of exchange of ideas between Macedonia and Western Asia Minor throughout the 4th century BC, before Alexander’s conquest.
Caria has a number of structures that can be considered parallels to the Macedonian tombs – for example, the so-called “Built Tomb” in Labraunda and the “Tomb of Hecatomnus” in Mylasa, discovered in 2010. The exact chronology of these monuments is yet to be established, but it is clear that they predate Alexander’s conquest of Caria, and were constructed at approximately the same time, or even earlier, than the first tombs of the “Macedonian type”. However, their similarity is “aesthetic”, rather than technical, as Carian tombs are corbelled.
A satisfactory explanation for the emergence of similar tombs would be the consideration of these monuments as regional (Carian and Macedonian) variations on a single theme of the ideal elite burial. The architectural form is, thus, not the result of the linear influence of one region on the other, but rather the reflection of shared interregional tendencies, which developed in the context of a complex network between elite groups of the Mediterranean world of the 4th century BC.
In my article I would like to examine this question, focusing on just two regions. The choice of Macedon and Caria for comparison is a conscious decision, an intersection of the theme of the symposium and my personal research interests. However, I am positive that, in the future, this small contribution should be integrated into a wider study, embracing as many regions as possible. I would like to stress the interconnectedness of the elite groups of the 4th century BC, even before the Hellenistic times. Research in a similar key has already been conducted, focusing, for example, on the Black Sea region,72 or Cyprus, with an examination of how, through the medium of monumental tombs and shared symbolical practices (e.g. feasting), various regional groups reinforced their status as a special group “in a competitive but also consolidating elite network”73.
The question is not only of the technical realm, but also of the aesthetical. The ideas expressed in this article do not apply directly to the chronology of the Royal Tombs at Vergina. The technical innovation of the true vault might still be a post-Alexander development.74 However, as I hope to demonstrate, the aesthetic and symbolic demand for such a tomb chamber emerges throughout the 4th century BC as a shared, interregional elite practice.
Carian monumental tombs of the 4th century BC
First, I would like to review the monuments from Caria that can serve as evidence for the development of similar approaches to funerary architecture in the regions under scrutiny. Obviously, this does not represent the full range of Carian tombs,75 but rather just the “tip of the iceberg”, the most visible and representative ones.
The Mausoleum at Halicarnassus, the magnificent tomb of Mausolus, immortalized in the various lists of the Seven Wonders of the World, no doubt, exercised influence on contemporary elite tombs from its very construction c. 350 BC.76 The monument worked on several levels, conceived as both a burial site for the king, and as a demonstration of Hecatomnid dynastic power (see below).
Unfortunately, the tomb chamber itself is one of the lesser known parts of the monument, as it was heavily damaged by the quarrying of the Mausoleum site. There are, however, several features which can be gleaned from the excavation results,77 written testimony,78 and by drawing parallels with other Carian tombs.
The underground core of the Mausoleum consisted of a monumental staircase, a dromos, an antechamber, and the burial chamber itself.79 It is highly likely that the antechamber contained a sarcophagus (the resting place of Artemisia, Mausolus’ sister-wife), while the bigger room held the king’s remains. The foundation of these rooms was cut into the bedrock. We have no solid evidence pertaining to the ceiling structure of the underground chambers. Due to the dimensions of the main chamber (6.20 x 6.80 m) and the enormous weight of the superstructure, some sort of corbelling had to be used, in combination with a relieving chamber further up inside the podium.80
Another important element was a marble door separating the antechamber from the dromos, reconstructed from fragments.81 Already on this mid-4th century creation (as well as on most of the early rock-cut façades, belonging to this era82) we see a tendency towards the imitation or reproduction of wooden portals in stone (with their characteristic metallic details faithfully executed in relief), a feature also pertinent to Macedonian-type tombs.83
The so-called Built Tomb was a free-standing monumental structure overlooking the sanctuary at Labraunda. It is dated to 350–340s BC, and is generally identified as the tomb of one of the Hecatomnids (Idrieus, who died c. 344 BC, is a favored candidate), or as the resting place of the sanctuary’s hereditary priests.84 The tomb chamber and its antechamber are located in the building’s podium. The main room contains three stone sarcophagi. Entry to the antechamber is preceded by a small enclosed courtyard (fig. 1). The main chamber is covered by a corbelled “pseudo-barrel” vault (fig. 2).
Fig. 1. The “Built Tomb” at Labraunda. Source: Henry 2014, fig. 3
Fig. 2. The “Built Tomb” at Labraunda. View of the main chamber’s ceiling. Photo by author
The similar solution of the chamber is attested in several other Carian tombs. Apart from the Labraunda tomb, the best examples are at Alaçam, Pladasa and Caunus, all dated to the second half of the 4th century BC,85 and also the tombs at Geriş and Yokuşbaşı (near Bodrum/Halicarnassus).86 Altogether, the corbelled cylindrical vault seems to be less popular than horizontal stone beams,87 but the aforementioned specimen still add up to a recognizable subtype of Carian funerary architecture.
In 2010, a plundered chamber tomb and a sarcophagus were discovered in Milas (ancient Mylasa). Unfortunately, the monument has not been officially published yet, and our only sources are press photos of varying quality. The monument was instantly ascribed to Hecatomnus, Mausolus’ father, who died c. 377 BC. Given its position in the heart of Mylasa (the “family nest” of the Hecatomnid dynasty), its similarities to the Mausoleum, the style of the sarcophagus reliefs, and several other factors, scholars unanimously agree that the tomb is connected to the Hecatomnid dynasty, but the exact attribution is debated.88
The tomb consists of a dromos and a rectangular tomb chamber, built in impressive isodomic masonry. Both spaces are covered with corbelled vaults. The dromos has a pointed corbel, while the tomb chamber itself is spanned by a cylindrical vault of the “pseudo-barrel” type, already known from the Built Tomb at Labraunda (fig. 3). A magnificent sculpted sarcophagus occupies the tomb chamber. The walls are decorated with paintings: draped mourning women, a battle scene (Amazonomachy), and ornamental friezes are discernible.89
Fig. 3. The so-called “Tomb of Hecatomnus” in Mylasa. View of the main chamber’s ceiling.
Source: http://milas-mylasa.blogspot.com/2016/10/milas-hekatomnos-anitinin-ici-v...
(accessed on October 15, 2017)
Overall, we see the sudden appearance of a small, consolidated cluster of elite tombs in the 360–340s BC. Some of them are connected to the Hecatomnid ruling family, which we can consider the earlier “trendsetters”, closely followed by similar forms belonging to non-royal, but significant local families.
Shared tendencies of 4th century BC monumental tombs
New ideas and forms are able to spread quickly in a competitive network, leading to the sudden emergence of new monumental burial types. For example the case of Lycia demonstrates this shift quite well. From the 5th century BC, the region had a tradition of creating rock-cut tombs in imitation of local wooden dwellings, both as simple façades and by fashioning rocky outcrops into three-dimensional buildings. These were predominantly used by generations of (non-ruling) families. Sometime around the second quarter–middle of the 4th century BC, façade tombs reproducing Greek order (mostly Ionic) started appearing, clearly a reaction to the recent developments in free-standing “royal” tombs.90 This new (sub)type of rock-cut tombs ran in parallel with the old Lycian form – but, instead of serving as sepulchers of local families, they answered to the demand of a narrower group, who craved recognition not only in Lycia, but also at a wider, interregional level.91 In this case, we see a quick reaction to an emerging monumental trend.
Can the sudden and interregional preference for cylindrical vaulting (in either technology) be considered a similar trend?
The 4th century BC Carian tombs would not be the first example of this approach in Anatolia. Although most Iron Age tumuli in the region have gabled rooves covering the tomb chamber,92 there is also an example of a circular vault, in the tomb chamber of Aktepe,93 a late Lydian tumulus (525–500 BC). The tomb held a funerary kline, and was decorated with wall paintings.94 Inside the chamber, the soffit of the corbelling is carved to resemble a barrel vault. The odd number of rows strengthens the illusion of a true vault, yet structurally the middle slab is not a key block, but the uppermost layer of the corbelling.95 The relation between Aktepe and the Carian group of chamber tombs outlined above (clustered around the Built Tomb at Labraunda) is hard to define in exact terms, but their general similarities are conspicuous.
A corbelled vault’s physical durability does not change significantly whether it is carved into a false barrel vault or left in a pyramidal/stepped fashion. The shape of the soffit is, therefore, a conscious aesthetic choice. Was there a special appeal to the cylindrical vault? Or a symbolical reading, an association of the vault with a natural cave, or with the vault of heavenly sky? Unfortunately, in the absence of sources, we cannot answer these questions, but the importance of this feature should be noted.
Thus, essentially, there are two components to the usage of similar monumental forms: “how?” and “why”, that is, the technical (architectural knowledge and skill) and the symbolic aspect (religious, social and/or political reason to reproduce the given form). K.E. Rice is right to stress the distinction between the aesthetic of the barrel vault, and the actual technology (architectural knowledge) behind it, citing the Built Tomb at Labraunda as a prime example.96 It is true that there is no archaeological evidence for the use of vaults or arches in the pre-Hellenistic times in Greek architecture. From this, one can make the assumption that Greek architects did not know the principles of keystone vault construction, or perhaps they did (at the theoretical level) but there was simply no demand.97 However, the technology of true arch construction was either re-discovered or “reactivated” in the second half of the 4th century BC, when the need arose.
Setting the scene: Macedon and Caria in the network
In the 4th century BC a complex network existed between elite groups of the Mediterranean world.98 The emerging local elites profited from the movement of materials, people and ideas, and the network of exchange was also a tool of self-representation. The non-Greek participants of the network were not passive subjects of Hellenization,99 but, rather, active pursuers of intellectual and aesthetic improvement. Patronage of arts and artists, dedications at sanctuaries, the planning and execution of monumental building programs, participation in proxeny networks and granting of honors were all favored aspects in this system.100
In the beginning of the 4th century BC Caria became a separate satrapy of the Persian Empire, under the hereditary rule of the Hecatomnids.101 The dynasty not only succeeded in retaining their hold over Caria, but became a significant force in the Aegean region. The participation of Hecatomnid rulers in various affairs (either acting on their own initiative, or as enforcers of the will of the Great King) brought them into contact and conflict with other emerging powers, such as the Argeads of Macedon.
With the following short (and in no way comprehensive) review of evidence, I would like to demonstrate the political and cultural integration of these two dynasties into a broader network.
An important account is Plutarch’s description of the so-called “Pixodarus affair”. Circa 337–336 BC Pixodarus, king of Caria, was trying to establish an alliance with Philip, and offered his daughter in marriage to Arrhidaeus. Alexander stepped in and wanted to marry the Carian princess instead. When Philip became aware of his plotting, according to Plutarch, he reviled Alexander for the desire to “become the son-in-law of a man who was a Carian and a slave to a barbarian king”.102 The marriage proposal was broken off.
The event is not known from any other sources,103 and the passage’s historicity and context are discussed by many scholars, but the general consensus is that the marriage proposal did take place in some form.104 Plutarch’s characterization of Pixodarus is quite dismissive, and the episode is included by him as a colorful anecdote about Alexander’s relationship with his father. However, we are right to interpret it also as an account of dynastic diplomacy, taking place within the context of the elite network outlined above. Stephen Ruzicka urges scholars to understand Philip’s “own experience of the Hecatomnids and Pixodarus in particular”, that is, without the retrospective application of our knowledge of the glorious achievements of Macedon, as opposed to the demise of the Hecatomnids. Ruzicka rightly argues, that “the Hecatomnids were, at the time of Philip’s early monarchy, the grandest of dynastic families in the Aegean/eastern Mediterranean worlds”.105 Indeed, as kings and satraps they ruled from their splendid capital, Halicarnassus, controlled significant territories in Asia Minor and several nearby islands, and their military was a force to be reckoned with.106 We can also recall how, just a decade earlier (c. 346 BC), Isocrates, advising Philip II, named Carian king Idrieus107 “the most prosperous of the present rulers” of Asia Minor, and listed him as a possible ally against the Persians.108
As mentioned above, patronage of arts and artists can be considered a significant aspect of interactions amongst elite groups. In the 4th century BC, “barbaric” aristocrats were more than eager to commission works from prominent studios, and in some cases the same masters could work for a range of different patrons. This could have meant either the increased mobility of the artists themselves, or, at least, the transportation of prized works to great distances, based on the fame and renown of the producing workshop.
Leochares, after his work on the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus,109 produced “statues of Philip and Alexander, and with them is Amyntas, Philip’s father” and “statues of Olympias and Eurydice” of ivory and gold for the Philippeum at Olympia.110
In this example we see the circulation of both ideas and masters in the context of the 4th century BC elite network. The Mausoleum was not only a dedication to the “deified shades of Mausolus”111 – it was a dynastic monument, designed to commemorate the deeds of all Hecatomnids, to solidify their standing in the region and translate their magnificence to the world. The so-called “gallery of ancestors”, a series of larger-than-life statues, depicted the Hecatomnids alongside their historical and mythical forerunners.112 A form of complex dynastic self-representation is pursued by the Philippeum at Olympia too. On one hand, it was a victory dedication (erected after the Battle of Chaeronea), made at one of the most important Panhellenic sanctuaries.113 On the other hand, the Philippeum is a commemoration of the Argead dynasty, although, admittedly, the scope is narrower (focusing on Philip’s closest relatives) than the Mausoleum’s vast genealogy.114
Similar connections can be traced in the field of literature and oratorship as well. The connection of the Attic orator Isocrates to Philip is well-known.115 Isocrates himself probably did not, but representatives of his school definitely performed eulogies on Mausolus’ funerary agon.116 The celebrated orator and playwright Theodectes of Phaselis (who was associated with Isocrates and Aristotle, and many other intellectuals of the era117) produced a tragedy titled “Mausolus”, honoring the achievements of the deceased, and probably placing him in the proper mythological context.
Taken one by one, these fragments don’t account for much, but together they outline a certain cultural kinship of Macedonian and Carian courts, as both royal families took on services from a shared pool of Hellenic intellectuals and artisans. The compilation of genealogies, programs for the decoration of monumental complexes and other related tasks could also be commissioned from these authors.
The peculiar theme of the ideal elite burial, it seems, crystallized as an aesthetic and eschatological concept in this very same fertile atmosphere – partly based on the pre-existing regional traditions, but also by introducing new elements.
The passage in Plato’s “Laws”, detailing the burial of the Examiners,118 has often been taken up as a description of a Macedonian type tomb. It was written during the last years before the philosopher’s death (i.e. before 347 BC). Thus, it would also be an argument towards the early introduction of true vaulting into Macedonian funerary architecture – although the terminology used (ψαλίς) does not allow for the exact identification as a barrel vault.119
It seems more productive to read Plato’s passage in light of the proposed elite network. Tombs were famous landmarks, known, appreciated and visited in the ancient world. Thus, it was completely logical for Plato to synthesize monuments from various regions, associated with high status burials of a privileged group, and create the ideal monument. For example, when Plato mentions burial on stone couches in the ideal state, “he drew upon a tradition that had, by his time, become emblematic of elite status in Achaemenid Anatolia, one that would have carried a particularly foreign connotation in fourth-century Greece”.120
Afterwards, the idea of high-status burials in the “Platonic” manner121 was disseminated by intellectuals, and relatively quickly reached representatives of 4th century elite groups. In a way, these aristocrats (e.g. in Caria and Macedon) heard the echo of their own traditions.
Conclusion
It seems that parallels between Carian and Macedonian architectural forms are best understood, not in terms of linear influence, but rather within the framework of a broader system of elite interactions on the territory of the Mediterranean in the 4th century BC. As shown before, this network was at once competitive and consolidating. The elites in different regions employed the services of artisans and intellectuals from the same circles, and thus this network was fertile ground for shared practices as well – both abstract and concrete.
It would be too cynical to ascribe the exploitation of this intellectual code by 4th century BC rulers to mere political opportunism. Of course, Mausolus or Pixodarus might not have been enlightened “philosopher kings”. But, although we might never know the exact psychological background of this phenomenon, it seems that the Macedonian and Carian122 rulers were genuinely obsessed with the ideas of afterlife, immortality, heroization and apotheosis. Their native archaic background provided them certain preconceptions, but perhaps not in a crystallized, understandable, and transmittable form. By applying a shared symbolic language (albeit with local variations), they could express and amplify these ambitions.
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Tsetskhladze G.R. 1998: Who Built the Scythian and Thracian Royal and Elite Tombs? Oxford Journal of Archaeology, Vol. 17, 55–92.
Vatai, F. 1984: Intellectuals in Politics in the Greek World. London-New York.
Wright, G.R.H. 2009: Ancient Building Technology, Volume 3: Construction
(in 2 vols.). Leiden, 2009.
66 Miller 1982, 153.
67 For the lead excavator’s point of view see Andronikos 1987, 1993. The corpus of literature on the problem is vast and cannot be reproduced here. Some recent contributions (with reviews of past polemics) are: Borza, Palagia 2007; Chilidis 2008; Hatzopoulos 2008; Lane Fox 2011.
68 Boyd 1978; Andronikos 1987, 3–12; Tomlinson 1987.
69 Strangely, while Anatolian rock-cut and built tombs, and the Tomb of Cyrus in Pasargadae are often cited as influences on Alexander and his men, the rich monumental tradition of Egypt (where true vaulting in stone is known, see Arnold 2003, 49, 252–254) is rarely considered as a possible catalyst of Macedonian funerary architecture (one of the few exceptions is Tomlinson 1987).
70 Borza 1992, 273–275.
71 Borza, Palagia 2007, 88.
72 E.g. Gocha Tsetskhladze’s article “Who Built the Scythian and Thracian Royal and Elite Tombs?” In his opinion, it was the Ionian Greeks, who “had also built the residences of local rulers and, at the same time, participated actively and directly in the creation of elite culture and art in the Black Sea area” (Tsetskhladze 1998, 80). The migrating Ionian Greek masons brought with them knowledge of Anatolian monumental burials, and applied certain architectural solutions to a pre-existing scheme of local tombs with simple burial chambers (Tsetskhladze 1998, 66). Unfortunately, this article is not free of mistakes and simplification in regards to Anatolian materials: e.g. a list of tomb that the Ionian Greeks (in their native Asia Minor) supposedly constructed “for themselves” includes a rock-cut tomb at Termessos in Pisidia (the so-called “Tomb of Alketas”) and even the Heroon at Gölbaşi-Trysa in Lycia! (Tsetskhladze 1998, 77).
73 Carstens 2013, 108. Anne Marie Carstens’s article about late Archaic–early Classical built tombs from Caria, Lycia, Cilicia and Cyprus is especially illuminating. The monuments demonstrate similar architectural details (gabled roof over the tomb chamber, accentuation of the prodomos). Carstens raises a valid question: “Some, or in fact many, of these features were however only visible during the construction of the tomb and during the funeral. So how could they be elements in an interregional or even ‘international’ political communication underlining elite networks?” Carstens offers travelling masters and the circulation of architectural drawings for the technical side of the question, and the shared aristocratic values and ideas for the explanation of the convergence of architectural forms.
74 Although I generally accept the earlier dates for the burials at Vergina and the identification of Tomb II as Philip’s, and, consequently, the (limited) pre-Hellenistic application of true vaulting c. 340–330 BC.
75 For the bigger picture and typological analysis see Henry 2009.
76 The book published by the architects Pythius and Satyrus about their design (Vitr. 7. praef. 12) facilitated the dissemination of the “revived” Ionic order and of new, synthetic approaches to monuments.
77 Jeppesen 2000, with a reassessment of the 19th century excavation reports.
78 Including the reassessment of the account of de la Tourette, one of the Knights Hospitallers who discovered the Mausoleum and entered the tomb chamber (originally published in 1581, reprinted, commented and translated in Jeppesen 2000, 155–168).
79 Jeppesen 2000, fig. 17.1–4.
80 Jeppesen 2000, 96.
81 Jeppesen 2000, 73–87, fig. 15.1.
82 E.g. Necropolis B at Caunus: Roos 1972, passim, esp. Pl. 23, 27, 29; The Tomb of Amyntas at Telmessus: Fedak 1990, 97–98, fig. 120.
83 E.g. Andronikos 1993, fig. 57, 159–160, etc.
84 Henry 2009, 144–148; Henry 2014.
85 Alaçam T02: Henry 2009, 199–201, fig. 37, 65–66. Pladasa T01: Henry 2009, 257–259, fig. 153–154. Caunus T01: Henry 2009, 235.
86 Geriş: Carstens 2002, 395–399, fig. 10–11. Yokuşbaşı: Jeppesen 2000, 169–171; Carstens 2002, 399–402, fig. 18. The Yokuşbaşı tomb also had marble doors.
87 Henry 2009, fig. 35, 37.
88 Henry 2013, 87–90.
89 The Mylasa paintings are stylistically and iconographically comparable to Macedonian murals, especially the figure of the draped woman (Demeter) on the east wall of the “Tomb of Persephone”: Andronikos 1993, fig. 46, 48. The closest parallel to the Amazonomachy is, obviously, the sculpted frieze of the Mausoleum.
90 Such as the Nereid Monument at Xanthus, the heroon of Pericles at Limyra, and the Mausoleum at Halicarnassus; and also the wide range of prestigious projects initiated by local elites, e.g. the new Hecatomnid developments in the sanctuary at Labraunda.
It’s also interesting, that the “pillar tomb”, the burial monument of choice for 6th–5th century Lycian rulers is no longer attested in this period.
91 Kisbali forthcoming.
92 Constructed from wood, in the case of Phrygia, and of stone in Lydia, sometimes in clear imitation of real-life roofing, with additional painted details: Summerer, von Kienlin 2016.
93 Baughan 2013, fig. 119.
94 Elizabeth Baughan’s description of the uncanny, almost anachronistic impression made by the Aktepe tomb chamber is spot on: “it is as if the general idea of a Lydian tomb chamber was transferred as a blurry memory and then approximately recreated in Macedonia–with an essentially more advanced internal structure, the true vault” (Baughan 2013, 272).
95 Aktepe also has an approximately contemporary parallel on Cyprus – the Evangelis Tomb at Kition, dated to c. 500 BC (Carstens 2009, 138, fig. 20; Wright 2009, fig. 266).
96 Rice 2016, 126.
97 Democritus supposedly discovered the arch (Sen. Ep. 90.32), sometime in the late 5th century BC, or maybe learnt it while studying astronomy in Egypt (Diod. 1.98.3), but it wasn’t constructed in his lifetime in Greece: Boyd 1978, 89, n. 24. See also Wright 2009, 184, for an interesting take on Greek architects’ knowledge of arcuated construction in general.
98 Encompassing, but not limited to, the aristocratically inclined people of Greece, Macedon, Thrace, the Black Sea region, West and South-West Asia Minor and Cyprus; and the various dynasties – Argeads, Spartocids, Hecatomnids, Evagorids… To the West, Italy, no doubt, played a significant role in the network as well. See also Boardman 1994.
99 During the last decades, there has been a renewed interest in “Hellenization” as a cultural model, and it has attracted criticism (for a short overview of this issue, see Hornblower 2014).
100 For the political background, see e.g. Hornblower 2011. On arts, see e.g. Boardman 1994 (although, regrettably, the 4th century is not as thoroughly explored, as one would wish); Ridgway 1997; Corso 2008. On the role of intellectuals in this network, see e.g. Vatai 1984, esp. 99–116. On proxeny systems: Gauthier 1985, 155–156 for Macedon, 159–160 for Caria; Rhodes, Osborne 2003, 262–268; Mack 2015.
A synthetic overview of these complex interactions is yet to be written. Perhaps it might prove fruitful to examine this network as a case off the peer polity interaction (PPI) model developed by Colin Renfrew and John F. Cherry. Peer polity interaction is understood as “the full range of interchanges taking place (including imitation and emulation, competition, warfare, and the exchange of material goods and of information) between autonomous (i.e. self-governing and in that sense politically independent) socio-political units which are situated beside or close to each other within a single geographical region” (Renfrew 1986, 1). The original model holds a clause that the interacting polities are supposed to be “not subject to the jurisdiction to a higher power” (Renfrew 1986, 4), however within the realities of 4th century BC politics it was absolutely possible for the Hecatomnids (as Carian kings and Persian satraps, subjects to the Achaemenid Empire) take part in proxeny systems with Greek poleis, or, as we will see, negotiate dynastic marriages with their Macedonian peers. To my knowledge, the peer polity interaction model has not yet been used directly to describe the interactions of 4th century BC elites. However, it has been productively applied to problems of Hellenistic history, especially of the Hellenistic polis.
101 For a historical overview of the Hecatomnids: Hornblower 1982, 34–51; Ruzicka 1992.
102 Plut. Alex. 10.1–3.
103 In one of the tombs of Vergina, “Heuzey A”, a golden coin of Pixodarus was found: Drougou 2011: 254–255, fig. 18. It’s appealing to interpret this find as a gift to the diplomatic missions travelling back-and-forth between Caria and Macedon – one can almost imagine Alexander’s agent, “Thessalus, the tragic actor” (Plut. Alex. 10.2.) bringing home a rare golden mint… However, the tomb was looted, and the context of this coin remains elusive.
104 E.g. Hornblower 1982, 220–222; Hatzopoulos 1982 (who is highly skeptical about the affair going down as described by Plutarch, or even taking place at all); Ruzicka 2010. See Ruzicka 2010, n. 2 for a full list.
105 Ruzicka 2010, 4.
106 It is highly likely that the Carian fleet and army were deployed against Philip at Perinthus: Diod. 16.75.1–2 (mentioning “satraps on the coast”); Hornblower 1982, 45; Olbrycht 2010, 347–350; Ruzicka 2010, 4–5.
107 Idrieus ruled Caria after the death of Mausolus and Artemisia, in the period between 351–344 BC.
108 Isoc. 5.103.
109 Plin. NH 36.4.30. The exact nature of Leochares’ (and his workshop’s) contribution is impossible to determine, but his involvement with the project can be acknowledged.
110 Paus. 5.20.10.
111 Gel. 10.18.
112 Jeppesen 2002, 179–181; Kisbali 2013.
113 It should be noted, that Hecatomnid dedications are conspicuously absent at Panhellenic sanctuaries, such as Olympia or Delphi. Instead, the dynasty expanded much effort to support and embellish Carian sanctuaries, e.g. Labraunda.
114 In this sense, the Philippeum is closer to the Hecatomnid dedications set up in Carian cities.
115 Isoc. 10; Vatai 1984, 99–111.
116 Gel. 10.18. See commentary: Hornblower 1982, 333–335.
And let us not forget, that Isocrates was commissioned to write the eulogy for Evagoras II, king of Salamis (Isoc. 9), another important player in the 4th century BC network, a contemporary and rival of Mausolus.
117 From Plutarch we learn, that some 20 years later Alexander, passing through Phaselis, honored the memory of Theodectes “for the past association with the man which he owed to Aristotle and philosophy” (Plut. Alex. 17.5.).
118 Pl. Leg. 947d-e, describing both the architecture of the tomb and the games associated with the funeral:
“Their tomb shall be constructed underground, in the form of an oblong vault of spongy stone, as long-lasting as possible, and fitted with couches of stone set side by side; in this when they have laid him who is gone to his rest, they shall make a mound in a circle round it and plant thereon a grove of trees, save only at one extremity, so that at that point the tomb may for all time admit of enlargement, in case there be need of additional mounds for the buried. And every year contests of music, gymnastics and horse-racing shall be held in their honor”.
119 The word ψαλίς (“scissors”) can denote a vault of any type or material, and not just exactly the barrel vault: Tomlinson 1987, 309; but contra Andronikos 1987, 6. Additional descriptions of ψαλίς as “vault” include being of “monolithic” blocks (Strab. 17.1.42) or of mudbrick and having a curvilinear profile (Diod. Sic. 2.9; Strab. 16.1.5), even having a keystone (Arist. [Mund.] 399b).
120 Baughan 2013, 273.
121 Based not just Plato’s text, but, presumably, other similar meditations on what’s the proper way to bury prominent people.
122 …and Thracian, Bosporan, Cypriot, Sicilian…