The Ancient Throne: The Mediterranean, Near East, and Beyond, from the 3rd Millenium Bce to the 14th Century Ce (Orea) 9783700185567, 3700185561

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OREA 14

The Ancient Throne The Ancient Throne

The Ancient Throne provides readers with a collection of articles that either study specific thrones known from historical texts, artistic depictions or excavations, or offer an overview of the role of thrones from as early as ancient Mesopotamia in the 3rd millennium BCE to as late as Iran and China in the 14th century CE. The volume thus collates the work of scholars who specialise in diverse cultures and who have all found thrones to be helpful vehicles for promoting unique inquiries into such issues as royalty, society, ritual, and religion within their areas of expertise. The breadth of their collective efforts offers a comparative view through which the dissemination of political and ideological concepts may be better explored. The following collection of articles, however, does not attempt to provide a single answer to the question of what a throne is or is not, but instead presents the authors’ individual – and sometimes conflicting – outlooks. While the volume is far from being a comprehensive survey of thrones in Eurasian cultures across the ages, it nevertheless offers readers a specialised bibliography and draws attention to scholarly trends that will be useful to future studies on thrones in general. Most of all, the volume cohesively suggests that thrones have been a meaningful category of material culture throughout history, one that may inspire both inter-cultural and intra-cultural studies of the ways in which types of chairs can embody, execute or induce notions of kingship and a range of concepts pertaining to the religious, ideological, and social spheres.

The Mediterranean, Near East, and Beyond, from the 3rd Millennium BCE to the 14th Century CE Proceedings of the Workshop in V ienna , A pril 2016

held at the

10th ICAANE

Made in Europe ISBN 978-3-7001-8556-7

Liat Naeh – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa (Eds.)

Dana Brostowsky

OREA 14

Liat Naeh Gilboa (Eds.)

Liat Naeh – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa (Eds.) The Ancient Throne

Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften Philosophisch-historische Klasse

Oriental and European Archaeology Volume 14 Series Editor: Barbara Horejs

Publications Coordinator: Ulrike Schuh

Liat Naeh – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa (Eds.)

The Ancient Throne The Mediterranean, Near East, and Beyond, from the 3rd Millennium BCE to the 14th Century CE

Proceedings of the Workshop held at the 10th ICAANE in Vienna, April 2016

Accepted by the Publication Committee of the Division of Humanities and the Social Sciences of the Austrian Academy of Sciences: Michael Alram, Bert G. Fragner, Andre Gingrich, Hermann Hunger, Sigrid Jalkotzy-Deger, Renate Pillinger, Franz Rainer, Oliver Jens Schmitt, Danuta Shanzer, Peter Wiesinger, Waldemar Zacharasiewicz

The preparation for publication of this volume was made possible with the help of a subvention granted by the Mandel Scholion Interdisciplinary Research Center in the Humanities and Jewish Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem.

Picture on the opposite page: Reconstructed ivory throne, Salamis (after M. H. Feldman, Communities of Style. Portable Luxury Arts, Identity, and Collective Memory in the Iron Age Levant [Chicago 2014], pl. 16, drawing: U. Naeh; cf. Johnson, this volume, fig. 2).

This publication was subject to international and anonymous peer review. Peer review is an essential part of the Austrian Academy of Sciences Press evaluation process. Before any book can be accepted for publication, it is assessed by international specialists and ultimately must be approved by the Austrian Academy of Sciences Publication Committee.

The paper used in this publication is DIN EN ISO 9706 certified and meets the requirements for permanent archiving of written cultural property.

English language editing: Academic Language Experts, Jerusalem Graphics and layout: Angela Schwab, OREA Coverdesign: Mario Börner, Angela Schwab

All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-3-7001-8556-7 Copyright © Austrian Academy of Sciences, Vienna 2020 Printing: Prime Rate, Budapest https://epub.oeaw.ac.at/8556-7 https://verlag.oeaw.ac.at Made in Europe

Oriental and European Archaeology

Vol. 1

B. Horejs – M. Mehofer (eds.), Western Anatolia before Troy. Proto-Urbanisation in the 4th Millenium BC? Proceedings of the International Symposium held at the Kunsthistorisches Museum Wien, Vienna, Austria, 21–24 November, 2012 (Vienna 2014).

Vol. 2

B. Eder – R. Pruzsinszky (eds.), Policies of Exchange. Political Systems and Modes of Interaction in the Aegean and the Near East in the 2nd Millennium B.C.E. Proceedings of the International Symposium at the University of Freiburg, Institute for Archaeological Studies, 30th May–2nd June, 2012 (Vienna 2015).

Vol. 3

M. Bartelheim – B. Horejs – R. Krauß (eds.), Von Baden bis Troia. Ressourcennutzung, Metallurgie und Wissenstransfer. Eine Jubiläumsschrift für Ernst Pernicka (Rahden/Westf. 2016).

Vol. 4

M. Luciani (ed.), The Archaeology of North Arabia. Oases and Landscapes. Proceedings of the International Congress held at the University of Vienna, 5–8 December, 2013 (Vienna 2016).

Vol. 5

B. Horejs, Çukuriçi Höyük 1. Anatolia and the Aegean from the 7th to the 3rd Millennium BC. With contributions by Ch. Britsch, St. Grasböck, B. Milić, L. Peloschek, M. Röcklinger and Ch. Schwall (Vienna 2017).

Vol. 6

M. Mödlinger, Protecting the Body in War and Combat. Metal Body Armour in Bronze Age Europe (Vienna 2017).

Vol. 7

Ch. Schwall, Çukuriçi Höyük 2. Das 5. und 4. Jahrtausend v. Chr. in Westanatolien und der Ostägäis. Mit einem Beitrag von B. Horejs (Vienna 2018).

Vol. 8

W. Anderson – K. Hopper – A. Robinson (eds.), Landscape Archaeology in Southern Caucasia. Finding Common Ground in Diverse Environments. Proceedings of the Workshop held at 10th ICAANE in Vienna, April 2016 (Vienna 2018).

Vol. 9

St. Gimatzidis – M. Pieniążek – S. Mangaloğlu-Votruba (eds.), Archaeology Across Frontiers and Borderlands. Fragmentation and Connectivity in the North Aegean and the Central Balkans from the Bronze Age to the Iron Age (Vienna 2018).

Vol. 10

E. Alram-Stern – B. Horejs (eds.), Pottery Technologies and Sociocultural Connections Between the Aegean and Anatolia During the 3rd Millennium BC (Vienna 2018).

Vol. 11

J. Becker – C. Beuger – B. Müller-Neuhof (eds.), Human Iconography and Symbolic Meaning in Near Eastern Prehistory. Proceedings of the Workshop held at 10th ICAANE in Vienna, April 2016 (Vienna 2019).

Vol. 12

M. Brami – B. Horejs (eds.), The Central/Western Anatolian Farming Frontier. Proceedings of the Neolithic Workshop held at 10th ICAANE in Vienna, April 2016 (Vienna 2019).

Vol. 13

L. Quillien – K. Sarri (eds.), Textile Workers. Skills, Labour and Status of Textile Craftspeople Between the Prehistoric Aegean and the Ancient Near East. Proceedings of the Workshop held at 10th ICAANE in Vienna, April 2016 (Vienna 2020).

7

Contents Preface by the Series Editor . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9 Liat Naeh – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 Liat Naeh In the Presence of the Ancient Throne: An Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Claudia E. Suter The Play with Throne Designs in Third Millennium BCE Mesopotamia . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21 Caroline J. Tully – Sam Crooks Enthroned Upon Mountains: Constructions of Power in the Aegean Bronze Age . . . . . . . . . . 37 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

61

Christina Ruth Johnson To Sit in Splendour: The Ivory Throne as an Agent of Identity in Tomb 79 from Salamis, Cyprus . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85 Yael Young Throne Among the Gods: A Short Study of the Throne in Archaic Greek Iconography . . . . . 105 Aaron Koller Thrones and Crowns: On the Regalia of the West Semitic Monarchy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 123 Elizabeth Simpson The Throne of King Midas . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 135 Niccolò Manassero The Ivory Thrones from Parthian Nisa: Furniture Design between Philhellenism and Iranian Revival . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 151 Sheila Blair Women Enthroned: From Mongol to Muslim . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173 Allegra Iafrate Solomon as Kosmokratōr and the Fashioning of his Mechanical Throne from a Comparative Perspective . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191 Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211

Preface by the Series Editor The 14th volume of the OREA series addresses ‘The Ancient Throne’ and represents the outcome of a workshop held on 27th of April 2016 at the International Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near East (ICAANE). The 10th anniversary conference of the ICAANE took place from 25th to 29th of April 2016 in Vienna and was hosted and organized by the Institute for Oriental and European Archaeology (OREA) at the Austrian Academy of Sciences. While the general proceedings of the sections were published with Harrassowitz Verlag in 2018, the experts’ workshops appear as separate volumes of the OREA series which are generously supported by the Austrian Academy of Sciences Press. Altogether 12 additional books have already been published or are in the pipeline for publication in the OREA series as outcome of these substantial workshops of the Vienna ICAANE. The present volume focuses on the phenomenon of ‘thrones’ in a broad diachronic view from the ancient Near East to the Islamic period and covers the timespan between the 3rd millennium BCE and the 14th century CE. The book is edited for our internationally peer-reviewed series by Liat Naeh and Dana Brostowsky Gilboa, who also initiated and organized the workshop about ‘The Throne in Art and Archaeology: From the Dawn of the Ancient Near East until the Late Medieval Period’. The editors brought together 11 contributions focusing on the topic that will be of considerable interest to researchers dealing with elites, royal, rituals, symbolism, monumentality and their material and iconographic representations in differing sociocultural contexts. The interdisciplinary approach of the editors is shown in the range of collected articles, which are covering the fields of art, archaeology and written sources to discuss the phenomenon of ‘thrones’. The geographical and cultural range of discussed subjects include Bronze Age Mesopotamia, Minoan Crete, Mycenaean and Homeric textual sources, early Iron Age Cyprus, Archaic Greece, Iron Age Levant, Phrygian Turkey, Parthian Iran and Mongolia. I warmly thank the editors of this volume, Liat Naeh and Dana Brostowsky Gilboa, for their engagement to realize this volume and to all contributing authors for sharing their scientific expertise. Financial support for the preparation of this volume was additionally provided by the Mandel Scholion Interdisciplinary Research Center at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. My sincere thanks for financial support for the 10th ICAANE conference go to several Austrian and international institutions which are the following: The Austrian Federal Ministry of Europe, Integration and Foreign Affairs, the University of Vienna, the City of Vienna, the Vienna Science and Technology Fund (WWTF), the Institute for Aegean Prehistory (INSTAP), the Austrian Orient Society Hammer-Purgstall and the Austrian Academy of Sciences. I would like to thank Ulrike Schuh for the coordination and editing, Angela Schwab for the layout and the Austrian Academy of Sciences Press for supporting the publications of the 10th ICAANE workshops in the OREA series.

Barbara Horejs Director of the Institute for Oriental and European Archaeology Vienna, 18 December 2019

Preface Liat Naeh 1 – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa 2 The present anthology, entitled The Ancient Throne: The Mediterranean, Near East, and Beyond, from the 3rd Millennium BCE to the 14th Century CE, brings together studies on various aspects of art, archaeology, and texts focusing on thrones. The volume was first conceived as published proceedings of a workshop, entitled The Throne in Art and Archaeology: From the Dawn of the Ancient Near East until the Late Medieval Period. The ‘Throne Workshop’ – as it was colloquially known – took place on 27 April 2016, as part of the tenth International Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near East (ICAANE), which was held in Vienna on 25–29 April and graciously hosted by the Austrian Academy of Sciences. Since its inauguration in Rome in 1998, ICAANE has become one of the top arenas for international scholarly exchange on issues pertaining not only to the Ancient Near East, but also to later Islamic culture. As the editors’ respective fields of study were situated at the two ends of this chronological spectrum, we found ICAANE to be the ideal venue for the ‘Throne Workshop’. This choice also reflects ICAANE’s long-standing tradition of providing a shared meeting space for scholars from around the world and thus generating both new avenues of discourse and new global collaborations. For this, we are most grateful to the organising committee of the 10th ICAANE and to the Austrian Academy of Sciences. The idea for the workshop emerged during our time as Ph.D. students at the Mandel Scholion Interdisciplinary Research Center in the Humanities and Jewish Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. During that time, from 2012 to 2015, we were student-members of the Picture/Power research group, sub-titled Cultural Continuity in Changing Worlds – The Representation of Government in the Near East from the Late Fourth Millennium BCE to the Early Modern Period (ca. 3200 BCE – 1600 CE). The senior and founding members of the group set out to explore and compare the images of kings in the Near East. It was there, under the guidance of senior members Prof. Rachel Milstein, Prof. Tallay Ornan, Prof. Galit Noga Banai, and Prof. Arlette David, and alongside our colleagues – likewise students at the time – Dr. Anna Gutgarts and Dr. Raanan Eichler, that we took our first steps in studying royal imagery. We would like to express our gratitude to all members of the Picture/Power research group. During that period, we became increasingly intrigued by what appeared to be a relationship between some of the thrones depicted in the corpora of our respective fields of study – Bronze and Iron Age Levant (Liat Naeh) and Islamic culture (Dana Brostowsky Gilboa). Whatever ties existed between such thrones, which were separated by millennia and also often by geography, were difficult to trace and interpret, and seem to have been seldom explored in scholarly literature. The workshop and consequently the present volume are therefore an initial attempt to focus upon thrones as a category of study that is helpful for inquiring into issues of royal, elite, and ritual ideology, and the diverse articles in this volume explore these subjects from a broad comparative perspective. In addition to the editors, the original ‘Throne Workshop’ included the following participants (in alphabetical order): Prof. Cory Crawford (Ohio University), Dr. Sam Crooks (La Trobe University), Prof. Arlette David (Hebrew University of Jerusalem), Dr. Cheryl Hart (University of Wales Trinity Saint David), Christina R. Johnson (University of Texas at Austin), Prof. Aaron Koller (Yeshiva University), Dr. Niccolò Manassero, (Il Centro Ricerche Archeologiche e Scavi di Torino), Prof. Rachel Milstein (Hebrew University of Jerusalem), Prof. Heba Mostafa

1 2



University of Toronto, [email protected]. The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, [email protected].

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Liat Naeh – Dana Brostowsky Gilboa

(University of Toronto), Prof. Tallay Ornan (Hebrew University of Jerusalem), Dr. Claudia E. Suter (University of Bern), Prof. Hana Taragan (Tel Aviv University), and Dr. Caroline Tully (University of Melbourne). It is our pleasure to acknowledge and thank them for all their contributions. While not all the workshop’s participants chose to be part of this current volume, we have welcomed new contributors, thereby broadening our volume’s scope far beyond our original discussion. We therefore extend our thanks to the authors who kindly agreed to join us along the way (again in alphabetical order): Dr. Allegra Iafrate (Kunsthistorisches Institut Florenz – Max Planck Institut), Dr. Vassilis Petrakis (Hellenic Ministry of Education and Religious Affairs, Institute of Historical Research, National Hellenic Research Foundation), Prof. Elizabeth Simpson (Bard Gradute Center), Prof. Sheila Blair (Boston College and Virginia Commonwealth University), and Dr. Yael Young (Hebrew University of Jerusalem and Shenkar College of Engineering, Design and Art). Each article in this volume went through a process of double-blind peer review, and we deeply appreciate the work, expertise, and time invested by the anonymous reviewers. We also thank the many colleagues who offered us their advice along the way, and particularly Dr. Anna Gutgarts (Hebrew University of Jerusalem) and Dr. Renana Bartal (Tel Aviv University), who made some much-needed suggestions. We would like to thank Academic Language Experts (Jerusalem) for editing and formatting the text, and especially Dr. Adrian Sackson, who masterfully headed the editing project, and Dr. Irina Oryshkevich, for her superb language editing. Finally, this volume could not have been published without the continuous support offered by the Mandel Scholion Interdisciplinary Research Center in the Humanities and Jewish Studies at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. We would thus like to express our most genuine and profound gratitude to its academic head, Prof. Daniel R. Schwartz, as well as to its executive directors, first Maya Sherman and now Keren Sagi, for their ongoing encouragement over the years, and especially for their generous support for language editing in the project’s final stages.

In the Presence of the Ancient Throne: An Introduction Liat Naeh 1

The Ancient Throne: The Mediterranean, Near East, and Beyond, from the 3rd Millennium BCE to the 14th Century CE provides readers with a collection of articles that either study specific thrones known from historical texts, artistic depictions or excavations, or offer an overview of the role of thrones from as early as ancient Mesopotamia in the 3rd millennium BCE to as late as Iran and China in the 14th century CE. The volume thus collates the work of scholars who specialise in diverse cultures and who have all found thrones to be helpful vehicles for promoting unique inquiries into such issues as royalty, society, ritual, and religion within their areas of expertise. The breadth of their collective efforts offers a comparative view through which the dissemination of political and ideological concepts may be better explored. The following collection of articles, however, does not attempt to provide a single answer to the question of what a throne is or is not, but instead presents the authors’ individual – and sometimes conflicting – outlooks.2 While the volume is far from being a comprehensive survey of thrones in Eurasian cultures across the ages, it nevertheless offers readers a specialised bibliography and draws attention to scholarly trends that will be useful to future studies on thrones in general.3 Most of all, the volume cohesively suggests that thrones have been a meaningful category of material culture throughout history, one that may inspire both inter-cultural and intra-cultural studies of the ways in which types of chairs can embody, execute or induce notions of kingship and a range of concepts pertaining to the religious, ideological, and social spheres. The papers in this volume are arranged in what is roughly a chronological order. The volume opens with Claudia E. Suter’s paper on throne designs in Mesopotamia during the 3rd millennium BCE. Through a careful analysis of texts and visual evidence – mainly stone reliefs and glyptic art – Suter traces the early crystallisation of Mesopotamian throne design and its possible meanings. Her portrayal of the Mesopotamian throne as a god-given symbol of kingship is followed by a discussion on how thrones may have reflected the tension between king and god, showcased specific divine attributes or been associated with specific dynasties – all of which lead her to observe the fluidity and easily-shifting quality of Mesopotamian throne design. The volume then moves on to a group of papers dealing with thrones in the Aegean world, where multiple examples of such seem to be evident. In their article dealing with thrones in Bronze Age Crete, Caroline J. Tully and Sam Crooks point to a unique affinity between thrones, the natural mountainous landscape, and the use of mountain iconography in Minoan art. Such an affinity, they show, may clarify some questions regarding the existence of Minoan rulership or distinct social classes. According to their analysis, enthroned female figures in the Aegean

1

2

3

University of Toronto, Canada, [email protected]. I would like to thank Prof. Elizabeth Simpson, Dr. Demi Andrianou, and Dr. David Kertai for commenting on this introduction. Consider, for instance, that Young [this volume] thinks of thrones in ancient Greece as necessarily having a backrest, while other authors potentially regard backless types of chairs or stools as thrones as well; and that Petrakis [this volume] argues that early Greek thórnos/thrónos did not mark out the exceptional seats we currently understand as ‘thrones’, but was used for other elaborate chairs as well. On a similar note, readers should be advised that authors followed their respective fields’ spelling convention, which has resulted in some variations of names of peoples, cultures, and places. For a list of such variations, please consult the volume’s index. For instance, the volume does not discuss Egyptian and Etruscan thrones, among other subjects. For some major publications on thrones in these areas, see Steingräber 1979 and Killen 2017, respectively. In addition to the bibliographies of the specific articles in this volume, readers may also wish to refer to some prominent works on ancient furniture, including – but not limited to – FitzGerald 1965; Baker 1966; Richter 1966; Kyrieleis 1969; Andrianou 1996; Herrmann 1996; Andrianou forthcoming.

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Liat Naeh

Bronze Age – both mortal and divine – were visually connected with mountains in multifaceted ways, drawing their social or religious authority from such an association. Vassilis Petrakis provides an in-depth review of the Greek term thórnos or thrónos, especially as seen in Mycenaean palatial documents written in Linear B script. Petrakis concludes that the term thórnos was used in palatial inventories to indicate elaborate chairs but not ‘thrones’ in our sense of the word, and certainly not chairs used exclusively by the ruler. Petrakis further supports this point through his analysis of Homer’s epics, which leads him to pinpoint a moment in time when the term ‘throne’ had a broader meaning. Christina R. Johnson writes about one of the most prominent examples of an Iron Age throne, represented by the ivory fittings excavated in Salamis, Cyprus, and which have become a focal point of research on Levantine and Aegean ivory art. Considering the possibility that the object may be of foreign origin, Johnson explores the meaning of the throne’s ritual placement in the Salamis tomb. In doing so, she connects the throne’s original appearance, as a radiant ivory and gold object, both to its use and to its economic and diplomatic value. She concludes that the Salamis throne is best understood as a well-designed, multifaceted marker of the tomb owner’s political power. Yael Young offers a review of thrones that appear in Archaic Greek iconography, particularly in Attic black-figure vases depicting Greek gods. Reserving the term ‘thrones’ for ostentatious chairs with backs rather than other kinds of seats found on Attic vases (such as folding stools), Young detects a nuanced approach in the employment of seats as signifiers of power and hierarchy among the gods. While the use of one throne – or two thrones in the case of a royal couple – seems to mark the higher rank of its owner, thrones on Attic vases, Young finds, are repeatedly juxtaposed with various types of seats, thus raising new questions as to the meaning and status-ordering of seated figures in specific contexts. Transitioning to the Levant, Aaron Koller points to a difference between the significance of thrones and crowns in Semitic cultures. Comparing various texts and images from the 2nd and 1st millennia BCE, Koller finds that, though West Semitic texts emphasise the throne and staff as emblems of monarchy, they consistently avoid mentioning crowns. The fact that various types of headgear do appear on images of rulers found in the Levant prompts Koller to reflect on the tensions between texts pertaining to and images of royalty and consequently to broaden the discussion to include later periods and neighbouring cultures. Finally, he concludes that over the millennia, Levantine tradition came to highlight enthronement rather than coronation as a symbol of the establishment of kingship. Elizabeth Simpson revisits the controversial theory that a sculpted ivory figure, excavated in Delphi, Greece, may have once belonged to the throne of the legendary King Midas. By considering extant comparanda and focusing on the style and technique of wooden furniture that was excavated in Phrygian Gordion, Simpson argues that the posited association of the Delphi ivory with the throne of King Midas should be rejected. In so doing, Simpson offers new insights on how we may approach the complex problem of matching archaeological evidence with written traditions surrounding the thrones of historical or mythological figures. Niccolò Manassero presents a detailed study of the technical and typological features of a large group of ivories found in the so-called Square House in Old Nisa, Turkmenistan. Evoking detailed comparanda, Manassero interprets the ivories as consisting of both drinking vessels and furniture pieces – all made of ivory – that may have been used in sumptuous banqueting rituals, perhaps relating to the dead. Tracing a nuanced typology of the ivory thrones found in Old Nisa, Manassero reflects on how the design of thrones may be indicative of distinct cultural identities and ideologies, even in an age of global influences. Sheila Blair traces the rise and decline of women in Mongol depictions of enthronement in the 13th and 14th centuries CE in order to assess both their fluctuating social status and changes in their cultural affiliations. Although early Mongol representations of this kind portray women to the left of their enthroned male spouses, and images of the Yüan Period in China and the early Ilkhanate show the royal couple sharing a throne and other symbols of royalty, women, Blair argues, came

In the Presence of the Ancient Throne: An Introduction

15

to be marginalised and consequently altogether excluded from enthronement scenes once the Mongols became integrated into Persian society. Concluding the volume, Allegra Iafrate reflects on the throne of yet another legendary king – King Solomon. Iafrate reviews the ways in which the Biblical description of King Solomon’s throne evolved into a wonderous, animated object in later Jewish, Christian, and Arab tradition. She sees these later accounts as closely mirroring the technological development of medieval mechanical automata. Through careful examination of textual and material evidence, Iafrate considers how the stories surrounding the throne of a legendary king led to its being perceived as an ideal embodiment of kingship by the Abrahamic religions. More than a collection of case studies, the volume is a curated juxtaposition of articles that illuminate each other in unexpected ways through shared themes. These themes, which resurface in nuanced ways throughout the volume, include: the portrayal of thrones as objects that display similarities to, and convey the tension between, the earthly and the divine, the god and king; thrones as animated or vivified objects; the zoomorphic qualities of thrones – specifically the close visual affinity between thrones and lions, apparent above all in the prevalent use of lion legs – but likewise notable in the recurring depiction of birds or wings; the materiality of thrones, particularly the symbolic use of ivory and wood; thrones as metonyms for the practice of banqueting; and finally, thrones as reflections of landscape or architecture. From yet another perspective, the volume may be read as an attestation of how thrones came to be associated with the heritage of legendary figures, such as King Solomon and King Midas, and how, in turn, the stories of their thrones became carriers of meaning in their own right, circulating and diffusing traditions across millennia. Thus, the volume’s articles also serve as further invitations to explore new questions about cultural continuity and contacts as seen in the development of thrones. A Chair by Any Other Name Today, we practically take chairs for granted in our daily lives; they are merely functional pieces of furniture, aimed at seating a person. At face value, chairs are not necessarily luxury items or status symbols, although they can readily be made to assume these qualities as well. To modern, Western society, chairs almost seem neutral, lending themselves to any possible design and interpretation, and are viewed as adjustable and appropriable to any kind of human occasion or attitude.4 Nevertheless, we are aware of (and sometimes vigilant about) the chair’s role as a marker of social hierarchy.5 In Western culture, chairs indicate rank and order, or provisionally equalise individuals who may otherwise seem different from each other.6 For instance, we would be careful not to seat a person of a higher rank on a chair that is plainer or lower than the one occupied by a person of lesser rank. Such inherent sensitivity to the use of chairs as markers of status is also preserved in English, our lingua franca, in the word ‘chair’. Derived from Greek, and better known from the Latin ‘cathedra’, the word is nowadays also used to describe a leader of a department, an event, or a committee.7 By the same token, a ‘chairperson’ is the one who heads a meeting; the term illustrates our belief that the most influential person in the group is imagined as sitting in a chair to express his or her leadership, power, and authority to make decisions.

4 5 6 7

See Massey 2011, 7. See, for instance, Rybczynski 2016, 13, 201–202. See De Dampierre 2006, 8; Massey 2011, 7–8. “Chair”, Merriam Webster dictionary, online (last accessed 26 Apr. 2016). See also Giblin 1993, 29; Cranz 1998, 30–31; Massey 2011, 15–16; Rybczynski 2016, 201–202.

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We may assume that humans always sit on chairs – or have always sat on chairs. Yet even today, as anthropologists point out, chair-sitting is not a universal human practice, and ways of sitting are, in fact, highly culturally determined.8 Western studies on chairs and sitting positions often focus on visual evidence from Ancient Egypt and classical Greece as potential sources of the modern, Western practice of sitting on chairs,9 but this tendency may be better understood as a reflection of the Western preference for being associated with these ancient cultures than as proof of any traceable, direct influence. Yet – as hinted by the aforementioned discussion of the use of ‘chair’ as idiom – there seems to be a shared human receptiveness to the idea that chair-sitting can potentially express power.10 Indeed, it is precisely this attunement to chairs as signifiers of social order that allows us to relate to the concept of a throne. Originating from the Greek thronos, the English word ‘throne’ is understood as a specific category of chair that serves as a social indicator of the highest order, one used to mark the top of a hierarchy and associated primarily with royalty, but also with other members of elite social strata, such as high dignitaries within various contexts and certainly gods. We think of thrones as idioms for sovereignty – rivals fight for and usurp the throne11 – but also as symbols of specific monarchies. These notions of dominion are manifested and imbedded in the design of thrones; though the individual characteristics of any throne are culturally determined, they all seem to be distinguished from other seats by their relatively excessive size, higher elevation, rich materials, lavish decorations, or any combination of these criteria that radiates prestige and luxury and contributes to a sense of dominion and abundance (though not necessarily comfort). If the function of the chair is to seat a person, then the function of a throne must be to elevate the seated among her or his peers, and in so doing, to signal to the audience that the enthroned is a prominent person.12 While the use of thrones to divide space and create a visual hierarchy between the enthroned and the so-called ‘other’ is not necessarily universal, it is certainly a meta-phenomenon, one that a myriad of human societies understand, relate to, and – perhaps most importantly – respond to. Thus, we may understand what a throne is trying to communicate to us even if we do not fully grasp the exact meaning of any other visual messages depicted on it. While it may be true that there is no clear-cut, material definition that unconditionally separates a throne from a chair, and no right answer to what a throne could – or could not – be, this volume demonstrates that there are, in fact, certain conceptual and contextual criteria that consistently differentiate a chair from a throne. Regardless of how different thrones may be built and appear in each given culture or period, and regardless of who used them and how, they do seem to share certain qualities that set them apart from mere chairs. The first is the quality of being an object of ritual, and the second is the fact that they perform in a spectacle, altering their viewers’ state of mind (rather than merely their owners’ state of mind, as some chairs may do). Indeed, the volume’s articles reiterate that context, above all else, is what transforms a chair into a throne. Such transcendence may be signalled by an

8

9 10 11

12

For classic anthropological studies on cultural variations in sitting positions see Mauss 1973 [1935] and Hewes 1957. Mauss comments that “you can distinguish squatting mankind and sitting mankind... people with chairs and people without chairs” (Mauss 1973 [1935], 81), while Hewes notes that a quarter of the world’s population rests and works in a squatting rather than a sitting position (Hewes 1957, 123). Additional developments on the subject include Giblin 1993, 1–4; Cranz 1998, 25–30; Massey 2011, 7; Rybczynski 2016, 5, 39–40, 50. On the migration of sitting positions – and chairs – through cross-cultural contacts see for example: FitzGerald 1965; Tenner 1997; Çevik 2010; Rybczynski 2016, 5, 48, 52. See Hewes 1957; De Dampierre 2006, 19; Massey 2011, 16–19; Rybczynski 2016, 5. Rybczynski 2016, 13. “Throne”, Merriam Webster Dictionary, online (last accessed 26 Apr. 2016); “ascend to the throne”, Merriam Webster Dictionary, online (last accessed 26 Apr. 2016). See also Richter 1966, 13–15; Cranz 1998, 31; Rybczynski 2016, 202. See Giblin 1993, 5–8, 33; Cranz 1998, 34–35; De Dampierre 2006, 18–19, 23–24, 48; Massey 2011, 19–22; Rybczynski 2016, 13.

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amalgamation of alternating visual cues and cultural usage, often with excessive, conspicuous labour. In this regard, there is an inherent tension between the function of the throne – to serve as a seat – and the ways in which it functions as an object of ritual, signalling that it serves functions that go beyond the earthly. Most of all, it is the physical position of the enthroned that marks her or his imposing social standing and that is an essential aspect of the throne’s role in the performance of ritual, because factors such height and design affect the sitter, his or her posture, manner of occupying space, and command their field of vision. Much like ceremonial clothes – worn on the body of an officiant and intimately belonging to him or her, while also contributing to the public spectacle – a throne is simultaneously discoursing with the personal and the public spheres as it formulates the body of its user, inspiring them to assume a ritualistic persona that embodies notions of rulership. The physical qualities of the seat are thus operating on the sitter and on their audience in corresponding ways; the audience observes the transformed body of the enthroned and responds to it, experiencing sensations ranging from fear, awe and deference to respect or admiration, all of which promote subjugation. We are in some ways programmed to interpret social situations through the arrangement of objects in space and their effects on our physical position and field of vision; furniture – particularly chairs – seems to feed into that tendency.13 Framing the Throne as an Object of Study Such reflections on what thrones are – or may be – begin to illuminate the potential of thrones as objects of scholarly focus and therefore indicate the issues in which the present volume engages. If a throne is an object that indexes the identity, values, legacy, and vision of its owners, it must represent the most idiosyncratic features of its place and time. Yet, simultaneously, it is also designed to induce reverence in such a way that it easily communicates its message not only to insiders but also to foreigners such as captives, travellers or diplomats. Consequently, in this volume, the throne is shown to be an object grounded in its location and, at the same time, a portable carrier of cultural conventions. Something of the throne’s well-planned set of material qualities – deliberately designed to address an audience, to arrest its attention, to induce a reaction – does cross the borders of time and place, as demonstrated repeatedly in the volume’s case studies. A synthesised reading of the volume’s articles therefore suggests that the presence of a throne – or even its conspicuous absence – may be perceived by scholars as conveying social order or practice, ideology, and religion, in contexts ranging from courts and elite locations to temples, and can serve as anything from a metaphor that allows for the reconstruction of past world views, a metonym for now lost environments, to a relic of a historical or legendary figure. Building on the seat’s anthropomorphic qualities and the ways in which it evokes a sense of personhood, we may be reminded of Napoleon Bonaparte’s famous remark: “What is the throne? This wooden frame covered with velvet? No, I am the throne”14. These reflections on what thrones are, and what role they may play in scholarly debate, are the raison d’être of the present volume.

13

14

Like architecture in general, furniture too has an impact on human psychology, especially through its effect on height, posture, visibility, or field of vision. For discussions on how the orientation and position of chairs may alter human response to social situations – decreasing the sense of safety or increasing territoriality – see Joiner 1971, and references therein; Mehrabian – Diamond 1971; Massey 2011, 8–9. Tarbell 1896, 128–129.

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References Andrianou 1996 D. Andrianou, The Furniture and Furnishings of Ancient Greek Houses and Tombs (New York 1996). Andrianou forthcoming D. Andrianou (ed.), A Cultural History of Furniture in Antiquity (2500 BCE–500 CE) (forthcoming). Baker 1966 H. S. Baker, Furniture in the Ancient World. Origins and Evolution, 3100–475 B.C. (London 1966). Çevik 2010 G. Çevik, American style or Turkish chair. The triumph of bodily comfort, Journal of Design History 23, 4, 2010, 367–385. Cranz 1998 G. Cranz, The Chair. Rethinking Culture, Body, and Design (New York 1998). De Dampierre 2006 F. De Dampierre, Chairs. A History (New York 2006). FitzGerald 1965 C. P. FitzGerald, Barbarian Beds. The Origin of the Chair in China (London 1965). Giblin 1993 J. C. Giblin, Be Seated. A Book about Chairs (New York 1993). Hewes 1957 G. W. Hewes, The anthropology of posture, Scientific American 196, 2, 1957, 122–132. Herrmann 1996 G. Herrmann (ed.), The Furniture of Western Asia. Ancient and Traditional. Papers of the Conference held at the Institute of Archaeology, University College London, June 28 to 30, 1993 (Mainz 1966). Joiner 1971 D. Joiner, Social ritual and architectural space, Architectural Research and Teaching 1, 3, 1971, 11–22. Killen 2017 G. Killen, Ancient Egyptian Furniture, Vol I: 4000–1300 BC. 2nd edition (Oxford, Philadelphia 2017). Kyrieleis 1969 H. Kyrieleis, Throne und Klinen. Studien zur Formgeschichte altorientalischer und griechischer Sitz- und Liegemöbel vorhellenistischer Zeit, Jahrbuch des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts Ergänzungshefte 24 (Berlin 1969). Massey 2011 A. Massey, Chair. Objekt Series (London 2011). Mauss 1973 [1935] M. Mauss, Techniques of the body, Economy and Society 2, 1973, 70–88. Mehrabian – Diamond 1971 A. Mehrabian – S. G. Diamond, Effects of furniture arrangements, props, and personality on social interaction, Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 20, 1, 1971, 18–30. Richter 1966 G. M. A. Richter, The Furniture of the Greeks, Etruscans and Romans (London 1966). Rybczynski 2016 W. Rybczynski, Now I Sit Me Down. From Klismos to Plastic Chair. A Natural History (New York 2016). Steingräber 1979 S. Steingräber, Etruskische Möbel, Archaeologica 9 (Rome 1979).

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Tarbell 1896 I. M. Tarbell (ed.), Napoleon’s Addresses. Selections from the Proclamations, Speeches and Correspondence of Napoleon Bonaparte (Boston 1896). Tenner 1997 E. Tenner, How the chair conquered the world, The Wilson Quarterly 21, 2, 1997, 64–70.

The Play with Throne Designs in Third Millennium BCE Mesopotamia Claudia E. Suter 1 Abstract: The symbolic significance and ceremonial role of the throne are well attested in 3rd millennium BCE Mesopotamia. The throne belonged to the fluid group of accoutrements that Sumerian literary texts associate with kingship. Regalia pertained to both human and divine royalty. While verbal designations for regalia do not distinguish between these spheres, their design in visual imagery could vary with the holder and change over time. Because designs were not rigidly fixed, some archaeologists dismiss the existence of regalia in visual imagery and relegate them to a purely ideological and imaginary sphere. However, visual representations do contain hints that objects associated with kingship in texts were meant to represent regalia in imagery as well. After reviewing textual sources that elucidate the significance of thrones, this contribution outlines the development of specific throne designs for particular throne holders in visual imagery and then goes on to explore some anomalies that can be explained as intentional breaks in norms after these had been established. The play with throne designs in these cases alludes to a certain degree of divinity of mortal royals and would not have been possible had the seats in question not represented insignia of kingship. Keywords: Mesopotamia, thrones, royal ideology, visual imagery

The 3rd millennium BCE corresponds to the Early Bronze Age. In Mesopotamia, the first urban centres appear in the Late Uruk period (c. 3200–3000 BCE), together with social hierarchy, the earliest writing system, monumental architecture, and imagery featuring a male figure that is obviously representing the chief of this society. The first historical period with rulers who commemorated their names and deeds for future generations is the long Early Dynastic period of competing city-states (c. 2900–2350 BCE). While the finer chronology of this period remains a matter of debate, one can distinguish between an earlier and a later phase.2 The kings of Akkad (c. 2350–2193 BCE) were the first to unite Mesopotamia under one rule, and the Third Dynasty of Ur (c. 2112–2004 BCE) revived the centralized state after another period of competing city-states, among which the Second Dynasty of Lagash stood out.3 Remarkable reformers include Naramsuen of Akkad, Gudea of Lagash, and Shulgi of Ur. Naramsuen was the first Mesopotamian king who deified himself. Divine kingship, however, was a fleeting phenomenon in Mesopotamia,4 restricted in the time under consideration to Naramsuen and his son Sharkalisharri, as well as Shulgi and his successors Amarsuen, Shusuen, and Ibbisuen. Textual Evidence on the Significance of Thrones Most information regarding the significance of thrones comes from Sumerian literary texts. Although the bulk of this literature is known to us from texts written in Old Babylonian schools in the early 2nd millennium BCE when Sumerian was already a dead language, it draws on a tradition reaching back to the Early Dynastic period.5 The creators of literary texts were scribes belonging to elite circles; their compositions reflect the establishment’s discourse on kingship.

1 2 3

4 5

University of Bern, Switzerland, [email protected]. For a recent discussion of the problems from an archaeological point of view see Braun-Holzinger 2013b, 254–257. For a recent history and chronology of 3rd Millennium BCE Mesopotamia from a philological point of view see Sallaberger – Schrakamp 2015. The dates given here are all approximate and follow the conventional Middle Chronology; for the new Low Middle Chronology see Sallaberger – Schrakamp 2015, 135–36. I follow this volume with regard to the English spelling of personal names. Cooper 2008. For an excellent detailed survey of Sumerian literature see Rubio 2009.

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According to a Sumerian creation story, the throne came down from heaven along with the sceptre and crown after the gods had created humankind.6 Only after these insignia of kingship had descended to earth, were great rites and offices perfected and cities built. Thus the throne along with the sceptre and crown symbolized kingship, and kingship was promoted as a precondition for civilization. A hierarchic society with a king at its head was legitimized through a divine world that conferred kingship on a particular individual. The king was cast as a representative of the gods on earth. Sumerian literary texts evoke this ideology time and again, and it is in this context that thrones, together with other regalia, appear. Two more examples illustrate this point. Shulgi Hymn P is concerned with the Urukean pantheon’s legitimation of Shulgi’s kingship over Sumer.7 In it, his divine mother Ninsun has chosen him as king and appeals to An, the ultimate source of divine authority in Uruk, for approval, upon which An invests Shulgi with royal insignia. Towards the end of the preserved text, Ninsun recapitulates Shulgi’s enthronement as follows: “At the place where they decree destiny, the Anuna, the great gods, stood by me (Ninsun). They made Shulgi’s shepherdship manifest as an everlasting thing for me. They made Shulgi, the righteous one of his god, rise over the land like the Sun for me. They set up a throne of firm reign for him. The shepherd [will render upon it] just verdicts, [he will obtain on it] just decisions.”8 A firm throne was thus a god-given destiny that enabled the king to impose law and order on human society. This concept is already perceptible in the inscriptions of Gudea of Lagash9 and well-articulated in the hymns of the kings of Isin, who followed in the footsteps of the Third Dynasty. Hymn B of Ishmedagan of Isin (c. 1955–1937 BCE), for example, states that: “Enlil, the king of all foreign countries, looked at him with a life[-giving] gaze and beaming countenance, and determined the destiny for Ishmedagan: ‘Prince Ishmedagan, as your destiny, you shall be given a throne that concentrates all divine powers, a good crown for distant days and a sceptre that stabilizes the people and keeps them united’.”10 Hymn C of Lipiteshtar of Isin (c. 1936–1926 BCE) characterizes “the lofty throne of sovereignty” as an “eternal ornament of kingship”.11 Thrones were not strictly exclusive to kings, but could also extend to other members of the royal family such as queens, princesses or princes who served as high priestesses or priests of a deity to whom they were symbolically married, as well as to high-ranking male dignitaries.12 The Sumerian term gišgu-za and its synonym gišdúr-gar can mean either throne or simply seat. While giš gu-za, the typical word for throne in literary texts, is a loanword in Sumerian, gišdúr-gar is the native Sumerian word for seat.13 The former is often combined with the term bára(g), which is conventionally translated as dais.14 Miguel Civil reads the term bára(g) as parak, a loanword from Semitic parakku, and understands it to mean a “‘curtain of separation’ (around the area reserved to the king and royal family or to a deity in a temple), fig. ‘royal person, royal abode’.”15 This then suggests that the combination gišgu-za + parak specifically designated a royal throne. Strict rules of etiquette existed with regard to who was entitled to be seated in what situation. This is beautifully illustrated in a letter addressed to King Shulgi by his Grand Vizier Aradmu, who accuses the military officer Apilasha of insulting the king. He reports that when he arrived at Apilasha’s establishment in the frontier area of Subir in order to regulate taxes on the king’s

6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15

Eridu Genesis or Flood Story Segment B 6–9. See Jacobsen 1981; Jacobsen 1987, 145–150; ETCSL 1.4.7. Klein 1981, 25. Šulgi Hymn P 56–63. See Klein 1981, 36–38; ETCSL 2.4.2.16. Gudea Cylinder Inscriptions A 23: 27–28., B 6:15, 8:16, 23:17. See Edzard 1997; ETCSL 2.1.7. Išme-Dagan B 34–44. See Römer 1965, 237–239; ETCSL 2.5.4.2. Lipit-Eštar C 43: gišgu-za mah nam-nun-na hé-du7 gi16-sa nam-lugal-la. See Römer 1965, 14–15; ETCSL 2.5.5.3. Pappi 2013, 633. Steinkeller 1993, 144. Foxvog 2016, 23, translates the combination with ‘dais-seat, throne.’ Civil 2007, 21.

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behalf, no one inquired about the king’s well being, Apilasha and his entourage neither rose from their seats nor prostrated themselves before the royal emissary: “He sat on a throne on a dais (gišgu-za parak) placed over a fine carpet, and had set his feet on a golden footstool. He would not remove his feet in my presence ... Someone brought me a chair (gišgu-za) with red-gold encrusted knobs and told me: ‘Sit!’ I answered him: ‘When I am on my king’s orders I stand – I do not sit’.”16 “Not only is Apilasha acting in a high-handed fashion – in essence rejecting the ceremonial symbols of his subservient status – but he has also apparently usurped the very trappings of royal power and, by implication, is acting as if he were an independent ruler.”17 That the throne symbolized royal power is also evident in Inana’s Descent to the Netherworld. The goddess Inana goes to the Netherworld with the intent to topple her sister Ereshkigal, queen of the Netherworld, and assume power over her realm: “she raised her sister from the throne and took a seat in her throne.” 18 Such usurpation of the throne, i.e. seizing someone else’s power as symbolized by the throne, is portrayed as a severe crime since the great gods proceed to sentence Inana to death. Along with the bed and house, the throne also symbolized the conditions for divine habitation in the temple as required by a settled urban life. A deity’s taking up residence in an earthly city guaranteed divine support, which, in turn, guaranteed the maintenance of order. This is evident from lamentations over destroyed cities, which regularly describe deities abandoning destroyed places.19 Towards the end of the Eridu Lament, for example, a prayer conjures the return of the patron deity thus: “May your throne say to you ‘Sit down’. May your bed say to you ‘Lie down’. May your house say to you ‘Be rested’.”20 Kings fashioned thrones for deities and deemed this deed important enough to be commemorated in hymns,21 inscriptions,22 and names of regnal years.23 These sources, together with administrative texts, mainly from the Old Babylonian period, provide precious information about the materials of which thrones were made and how they were decorated.24 As in the case of other cult objects, thrones of deities could be given offerings and could be preceded by the divine determinative in writing. Such objects were apparently imbued with a certain degree of divinity in the course of a ritual that disconnected them from their human makers and introduced them into the sacred space of a temple.25 Although the veneration of cult objects is attested since Early Dynastic times, deified thrones do not seem to predate the Ur III period. Once Shulgi deified himself, royal thrones too began receiving offerings.26 The veneration of divine thrones may therefore mirror that of royal thrones and have been introduced in order to justify the latter’s veneration.

16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

24

25

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Aradmu to Shulgi 1, 18–20, 26–27. See Michalowski 2011, 249–250. Michalowski 2011, 73–74. Inana’s Descent to the Netherworld 165–166. See Katz 2003, 251–187, esp. 260–262, 264. E.g., Lamentation over Sumer and Ur 194, 410, 439. See Michalowski 1989; ETCSL 2.2.3. Eridu Lament Segment C 45–7. See Green 1978, 140–141 (kirugu 7, 16–18); ETCSL 2.2.6. Išme-Dagan A 282–296. See Frayne 1998, 8–19, ETCSL 2.5.4.1. Frayne 1990, nos. 4.2.9.15, 4.2.13.13, 4.19.1.3. While only one Lagash II and three Ur III regnal years were named after the construction of a deity’s throne (Gudea 11, Šulgi 3, Amar-Suen 3b, Ibbi-Suen 12–13), the commemoration of this deed in year names became very popular in Old Babylonian times (Maggio 2012, 213). A list of Mesopotamian years names is provided on the Cuneiform Digital Library Initiative’s website: http://cdli.ox.ac.uk/wiki/doku.php?id=year_names#year_names (last accessed 25 Feb. 2016). For the latter see Maggio 2012, 101–106, with an overview of the sources on p. 213; Pappi 2013, 633–634. A good example, albeit somewhat fragmentary and difficult to understand, is an inscription of Kudurmabuk of Larsa recording the construction of a throne for Nanna in Ur in Frayne 1990, 219–222, no. 4.2.13.13. On the complex nature of deification in Mesopotamia see Selz 2016 with further literature; on the deification of cult objects see Selz 1997, and on deified divine thrones: Selz 1997, 178–179. Sallaberger 1993, 147–148.

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Fig. 1   Side B of the Standard of Ur depicting banquet in celebration of military victory, 20.3cm high (British Museum 121201; drawing C. Suter)

Development in Visual Imagery toward Distinct Throne Designs Seated figures first appear in visual imagery in the Early Dynastic period. The ruler figure of the first urban society is not represented seated.27 The verb ‘to sit’ is used here for sitting on a seat as opposed to squatting, a position assumed by common people when depicted as working in Late Uruk imagery. The terms ‘seated’ and ‘enthroned’ are used interchangeably. As Irene Winter observes, “it can be demonstrated that the very act of sitting is synonymous with status in the ancient Near East.”28 In 3rd-millennium BCE imagery, it was a privilege of royals, members of the elite, and gods. The seat is less often a chair, i.e. a seat with a backrest and four legs, than a stool. Seated figures occur in two contexts: the banquet and the so-called presentation scene, which might more accurately be called the audience scene. Both contexts express the concept of patronage and the recognition of authority and hierarchy. While the banquet scene is a hallmark of the Early Dynastic period, the audience scene developed during the Dynasty of Akkad to become a hallmark of the Ur III period. Literary and administrative texts provide ample evidence that banquets continued to be celebrated in real life. The replacement of the banquet by the audience scene in visual imagery must thus be sought in the predilection of different regimes, with competing city-states preferring communal banquets and centralized states preferring individualized audiences.29 The king is depicted at a banquet with his queen and/or entourage on various occasions, including regular cult festivals and special events, such as victory celebrations or the inaugurations of temples.30 Gudrun Selz argues that the banqueting royal couple served as substitutes for the gods on whose behalf they consumed drink and food at cult festivals.31 Although in the later Early Dynastic period, the king may stand out in the composition by virtue of his size and position, his seat does not formally differ from those of other banqueters (Fig. 1).32 When deities begin to be depicted in

27

28 29 30 31 32

On the Uruk ruler figure see Braun-Holzinger 2007, 7–32, pls. 1–15. Only one image on a small stone plaque of unknown, perhaps dubious, provenance shows him seated in a sledge drawn by a bull. See Braun-Holzinger 2007, 26 no. FS 10F, pl. 9. Winter 1986, 255. Suter in press. On the various occasions of banquets see Suter 2012, 215–216. Selz 1983, 436–87, esp. 456–57. For a photo see Braun-Holzinger 2007, pl. 32–33.

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Fig. 2   Urnanshe Stela from Lagash depicting enthroned goddess, queen and princess, 91cm high (Iraq Museum 61404; photo courtesy Bob Biggs)

anthropomorphic form towards the end of the Early Dynastic period, they are usually seen seated, not infrequently with the attributes of banqueters.33 Despite a number of slightly different throne designs, there is no clear distinction between human and divine spheres at this time. What identifies a figure as a deity in the first place is the horned crown, which in images functions much in the manner of the divine determinative before names of deities in texts. The only relief that combines human and divine banqueters – queen and princess on the right and a goddess on the left – shows them on similar seats, whose designs are typical of neither one nor the other sphere (Fig. 2). In fact, seats of slightly different design are often combined in the same image without any perceptible functional pattern underlying the difference. The minimal differentiation between human and divine banqueters in late Early Dynastic images must be related to the idea that royals partook in the gods’ meals. Under the kings of Akkad a large repertoire of divine figures was created in glyptic art.34 By this point divine thrones along with other attributes could point to a deity’s identity: lions adorned thrones of warrior deities, such as Ishtar (Fig. 3) or Ningirsu, a stack of grain those of

33

34

Braun-Holzinger 2013a, 20, pls. 7–8, 11–15, 18–21, 36, 44, 46, Relief 1–2, 4–13, Siegel 1–16, 25, 34, 36–41, 113, 114, 171, 182–183. Boehmer 1965.

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grain deities, a scale-pattern designating mountainous territory those of the sun god rising in the mountains or of the goddess of the mountain ranges, etc.35 The same period saw the development – possibly under Naramsuen – of a generic divine throne in the form of a recessed temple façade, which became predomFig. 3   Seal of Ikuparakkum of unknown provenience depicting libation inant in the Ur III period and to enthroned goddess Ishtar, 4.3cm high (Private Collection; remained typical until the end after Orthmann 1975, pl. 135h) of the 2nd millennium BCE.36 Its design can be seen in full detail on large-scale stone reliefs (Fig. 4), while seal images show simplified versions of it. The visual distinction between human and divine thrones that began under the Dynasty of Akkad was thus completed under the Third Dynasty of Ur. The development of distinct designs for particular groups or individuals affected the thrones of mortals as well. Statues of high priestesses usually depict them sitting on a cubic stool that may be engraved with containers hinting at the production of dairy products at the temple estate under their supervision.37 A better-documented example is the four-legged stool covered with fleece

Fig. 4   Urnamma Stela fragment from Ur depicting libation to enthroned god, 52.5cm high (University of Pennsylvania Museum CBS 16676.14; after Canby 2001, pl. 31)

35 36 37

Metzger 1985, 142–148, pls. 63–66; Seidl 2013, 636. Metzger 1985, 142, pl. 62, and 153–155, pls. 69–71; Seidl 2013, 636–637. Suter 2007, 333–335, figs. 9–12.

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on which Ur III kings sit on seal images (Fig. 5). It is attested for Shulgi and all his successors, whereas the founder of the Third Dynasty, Urnamma is shown seated on a chair-like throne with a curvate seat and back and hind legs shaped like those of bulls on the only extant seal image that depicts him.38 A recent encyclopaedia entry on Mesopotamian thrones states that it was not until Ur III times that royal thrones were formally distinguished from the Fig. 5   Seal of Ahuni from Ur depicting audience with seats of other people.39 Prior to that, enthroned king Shusuen, 1.5cm high (Iraq Museum; however, Gudea had already introduced after Legrain 1951, no. 432) a new throne design that is attested only for him.40 All seven statues of him seated depict the king on a cubic stool, whose lateral surfaces show curvate legs with two crossbars and small feet carved in high relief.41 Gudea’s introduction of a new throne falls in line with his other innovations in the visual and verbal arts, presumably in an endeavour to mark a new era.42 The distinctiveness Fig. 6   Seal of Ludumuzi impressed on cuneiform tablets from of his throne is corroborated by its exGirsu depicting audience with enthroned, deceased and deified traordinary re-appearance – probably king Gudea, c. 2.6cm high (Istanbul Archaeological Museum over a century later – on two seals of L.943, L.6475, L. 10059; composite drawing C. Suter) Ludumuzi, the son of a steward of the deified Gudea in the later Ur III period (Fig. 6).43 Rather than standing before a deity or contemporary king, Ludumuzi is depicted before a figure that apparently represents the long deceased, posthumously deified Gudea. In light of the new throne designs introduced by Gudea and Shulgi, and possibly Urnamma, one must wonder whether the design of the stool of the only two seated statues of kings of Akkad, namely those of Manishtusu and an anonymous king, was specific to these rulers or their dynasties.44 More or less similar stools used by both mortals and gods in the late Early Dynastic and early Akkadian periods have been brought in as evidence against this assumption. However, most comparisons are not precise.45 The closest parallel appears on an early Akkadian seal of a scribe

38

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40 41

42 43 44 45

Collon 1982, no. 469, and Frayne 1997, no. 3/2.1.1.2001 for the inscription. Canby 2001, 23, no. 28a, sees an Ur III royal stool on the Urnamma Stela; however, the little that survives of the seat does not offer conclusive evidence. Seidl 2013, 638, takes the seated statues of Manishtusu of Akkad and Gudea of Lagash as examples of kings sitting on ordinary seats without supporting her interpretation. So also Metzger 1985, 162–163 with pl. 76. Gudea Statues B, D, F, H, I, Q. See Suter 2000, 328–330 for a catalogue, and Edzard 1997 for their inscriptions. Whether Statue R represents Gudea or Namhani is disputable, though the former identification is more likely. A fragment of a typical Gudea stool was found in Ur (Reade 2002, 286–287, figs. 14–15), which Gudea may have controlled before the rise of the Third Dynasty (Michalowski 2013, 184). Suter 2015. Suter 2013, figs. 2–3. Metzger 1985, 137–138, pl. 50 nos. 386–387; Braun-Holzinger 2007, 101–102, Akk 4–5, pl. 40. While the Mari inlays depicting human banqueters (Metzger 1985, pl. 44 nos. 302–303) show a similar, though not identical design, the thrones of Ishqi-Mari of Mari (Beyer 2007, 249–253 nos. 16–17), the moon-god on Enmenana’s seal (Boehmer 1965, fig. 725; the drawing by Rohn 2011, pl. 41 no. 486 is inaccurate), and a fragmentary figure on

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from Tell Brak that depicts an unusual scene in which the figure sitting on this throne has been interpreted by some as Manishtusu, by others as a god.46 It would be surprising if the first dynasty to unite Mesopotamia and introduce the king’s deification during his lifetime did not create its own throne design(s). The Play with Throne Designs The above-outlined development towards distinct throne designs for a particular group or individual throne holder is not rigid, but makes room for variations and anomalies. Rather than dismissing norms altogether, I prefer seeking explanations for anomalies. Rules are made to be broken, or, as the Dalai Lama says, “Know the rules well, so you can break them effectively.” This section explores cases of anomalies and whether or not they were intentional. Two seals depict female members of the House of Akkad – Naramsuen’s daughter Tutanapshum, the high priestess of Enlil (Fig. 7),47 and Sharkalisharri’s wife Tutasharlibbish48 – seated on the generic divine throne shaped like a recessed temple façade. The seals belonged to subordinates, whom the royal women are seen as receiving in audience. Both seals’ inscriptions identify not only the seal owners, but also their superiors and, in one case, also the reigning king, which indicates that the seal was a royal gift.49 Since both seals were obviously custom-made, the divine throne must have been intentional. In the case of the high priestess, its presence can be explained by her symbolic status as a god’s wife. The queen, on the other hand, must have been entitled to a divine attribute on behalf of her deified husband. Note that in the inscription Tutasharlibbish is called Sharkalisharri’s ‘beloved’ rather than his wife; this poetic formulation recalls royal epithets that designate the king as a deity’s beloved one.50 A similar case is an anonymous female statue of the Isin-Larsa period from the residence of Nanna’s high priestess in Ur.51 Because the woman Fig. 7   Seal of Amanashtar of unknown provenience depicting sits on geese, she has been interpretaudience with enthroned high priestess Tutanapshum (Lost without trace; after Ball 1899, pl. 53) ed as a goddess.52 However, the figure

46

47 48 49 50

51 52

a door plaque from Uruk (Braun-Holzinger 2013a, pl. 14 Relief 11) show a different pattern, namely, one consisting of circles rather than ovals and circles. This pattern of solely circles may, in fact, be a variant of the cubic stool with several vertical and one or more horizontal crossbars, a popular type of divine throne on Akkadian seals (Metzger 1985, pls. 56–59 nos. 459–497; for three post-Akkadian exemplars see Metzger 1985, pl. 67, nos. 606–609), in which the nodes were decorated with circular ornaments. Parts of the crossbars between the circles are still visible on the seal impressions (Beyer 2007, figs. 16, 20; Boehmer 1965, fig. 725a). Felli 2001, 144–149, followed by Eppihimer 2010, 376, lean towards a king, while Braun-Holzinger 2013a, 20, 47, sees a god. Suter 2007, 324–325, fig. 2; Westenholz 2011. Suter 2008, 13–14, fig. 23. On Akkadian royal gift seals see Zettler 1977. Especially the epithet ‘beloved (husband) of Inana/Ishtar.’ In general see Hallo 1957, 137–141; Seux 1967, 415– 418 s.v. ki-ága, 189–197 s.v. narãmu, and 251 s.v. rīmu. Suter 2007, 336, fig. 13. Most recently Asher-Greve in Asher-Greve – Westenholz 2013, 229, who obviously misses the points I have been trying to make (Suter 2007). I have neither a ‘personification theory’ with regard to a series of seated female statues, nor do I claim that the seated female figure on Enmenena’s seal dressed in a flounced robe and horned crown is a “personification of Ningal by the en-priestess Enmenana …” (Suter 2007, 182–183); I suggest merely that this seal may have intentionally blurred human and divine spheres.

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lacks the principle marker of deities, the horned crown. The groove around her head with two holes for the attachment of a headgear, probably made of metal, speaks instead for a circlet, the typical crown of high priestesses. Moreover, cult statues of deities were not made of stone, a material suitable for immortalizing human beings. If my interpretation is correct, then this high priestess has appropriated the throne of the goddess Fig. 8   Ancient impression of seal of Urkununa from Ur depicting audience with enthroned king Amarsuen, 4cm high (UniverNingal, the wife of her divine husband, sity of Pennsylvania Museum; after Legrain 1951, no. 429) from whom Nanna’s high priestesses also adopted their title zirru, ‘hen bird’. Another intriguing case is the lion throne. There are at least five seals of high-ranking officials under Amarsuen and Shusuen that depict the king on a chair-shaped lion throne rather than the fleeced stool (Fig. 8).53 This lion throne differs in shape from typical divine lion thrones: rather than being a stool with one or a pair of small crouching lions on its side (Fig. 3),54 it is a chair with a high back and a large striding lion on its side. Although it was once assumed that this chair was exclusive to kings, seal impressions from Girsu and Umma show gods sitting on it,55 namely Ningirsu and Shara, the patron deities of the respective city-states.56 Since Ningirsu already sits on such a lion chair on a stela of Gudea (Fig. 9),57 this type may have been a divine throne, perhaps introduced by Gudea. A throne of the same shape, yet decorated with what must have been a pair of upright bison men rather than a lion, occurs on another stela fragment of Gudea, one likewise depicting an enthroned Ningirsu.58 If Gudea introduced the chair-shaped lion throne, then Ur III kings may have appropriated a Lagashite divine throne. The history of the chair-shaped lion throne, however, may be more complex. Undecorated chairs of a similar shape, sometimes with the same curvate armrests as those of Ningirsu’s thrones on Gudea’s stelae, can be seen used by deities and only very exceptionally by kings in the Ur III period.59 Nonetheless, a precursor of this chair occurs on a fragmentary seal impression from Girsu that mentions Naramsuen of Akkad (Fig. 10).60 Since the enthroned bearded male does not wear a horned crown, Eva Braun-Holzinger has tentatively suggested that he represents King Naramsuen holding audience.61 If so, it may have been Naramsuen who introduced the chair-shaped throne. Unfortunately very few images of the kings of Akkad have survived, and, in

53

54

55

56

57 58 59 60 61

Legrain 1951, nos. 428–431, 433; Fischer 1997, no. 48; Mayr 1997, no. 617.4. For discussions see Metzger 1985, 166 with pl. 77 nos. 704–708; Winter 1986, 258; Fischer 1997, 128; Mayr 1997, 60. Metzger 1985, 156–157, pl. 72; Fischer 1997, fig. 5, and no. 3; Mayr 1997, nos. 157?, 218, 222.4, 237.1?, 206?, 239.1, 318.2, 327, 360.3, 445. Some such stools have a low back (Fischer 1997, nos. 28, 40; Mayr 1997, nos. 143.3, 391.1, 740.1, 865.4, 889). Only once is a king shown sitting on such a lion throne (Mayr 1997, no. 328.2). A deity can also sit directly on a lion, usually facing the opposite direction (Mayr 1997, nos. 82, 243, 250, 316.2, 362.2, 378.1, 473.2, 492, 378.1?). There are also stools with a small crouching lion-griffin (Mayr 1997, nos. 102.10, 448, 479.2), and deities sitting directly on lion-griffins (Fischer 1997, nos. 37–38). Fischer 1997, no. 24; Mayr 1997, no. 498.4. Note that I classify the four examples that Mayr (1997, 60) introduces as evidence for deities on the lion chair differently: one as a stool with a small inscribed lion and a low back (no. 740.1), the others as variations of a god sitting directly on a lion (nos. 316.2, 362.2, 378.1?). See previous note. The one from Umma belonged to a man in the service of Shara, the one from Girsu to a servant of Geme-Lama, who was in charge of the estate of Ningirsu’s wife Baba and was probably the wife of the local governor. See Suter 2007, 328, and 2008, 6–7, 16. Suter 2000, 340–341 no. ST.2. Suter 2000, 378–379 no. ST.36. Metzger 1985, 163–166; Mayr 1997, 59. Delaporte 1920, 10–11 no. T.101, pl. 9:10; see also Boehmer 1965, fig. 656; Metzger 1985, 141. Braun-Holzinger 2007, 87–88.

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Fig. 9   Top of Gudea Stela presumably from Girsu depicting king Gudea before enthroned god Ningirsu, 65cm high (Vorderasiatisches Museum VA 2796; drawing C. Suter)

contrast to the Ur III period, no other seal image depicting an Akkad king is extant. All the same, an Old Akkadian administrative text describes the king’s throne as a golden lion throne (gišgu-za ur guškin).62 If this throne was shaped like a chair rather than the stool-shaped lion throne of deities, then Naramsuen may have slightly modified a divine regalia just as he did with his crown on the Susa Stela:63 rather than appropriating the horned crown of deities, he wears a helmet to which a pair of horns is attached. Should the first self-deified Mesopotamian king have introduced the chair-shaped lion throne as his throne, it would then have been transferred to the divine sphere under Gudea, who eschewed overt self-deification, but reinstated as a royal throne under the Ur III kings who revived self-deification and whose royal rhetoric adopted features from both the kings of Akkad and Gudea. This would explain why chair-shaped thrones, with or without a lion, occur with both kings and gods in Ur III glyptic. The play with throne designs discussed so far has concerned cases of appropriation or adaptation of a divine throne by a mortal royal under the regime of a self-deified king. Gudea, who, although eschewing self-deification, nevertheless subtly claimed a certain degree of divinity,64 seems to have employed a reverse strategy with the same intention to place king and god on an equal level, namely, the assimilation of a divine throne to his royal throne. A stela fragment depicts parts of two objects shaped exactly like the lateral sides of Gudea’s throne (Fig. 6), yet with a small lion head attached to the better preserved one, behind part of a lion on a wheeled

62 63 64

Foster 1980, 30–35; cited in Winter 1986, 258. Braun-Holzinger 2007, pl. 42. Suter 2015.

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board (Fig. 11).65 These objects most probably belonged to a scene depicting the furnishing of Ningirsu’s newly built temple with cult objects destined for Lagash’s divine patron, as do other Gudea stela fragments that depict such dedicatory gifts. It is surely meaningful that the proposed assimilation of a divine throne to the royal throne occurs only when it is depicted as an object in the course of being dedicated to the god, whereas scenes showing Ningirsu enthroned place him on chair-shaped thrones as described above (Fig. 9). My proposal that Gudea Fig. 10   Fragmentary ancient impression of attempted to assimilate god to king is corroborated seal of subordinate(?) of Naramsuen from Girsu depicting enthroned male figure, perhaps king by another, similar case: a door plaque that depicts Naramsuen c. 3.7cm high (Louvre AOT b.384; his introduction to a now lost enthroned deity by a after Delaporte 1920, pl. 9.10) shaven god without a horned crown, who was obviously assimilated to the ruler.66 Whereas these cases betray an intentional play with throne designs, other anomalies can be attributed to low-quality imitation or partial recutting. For example, a few seals preserved in ancient impressions depict an Ur III king sitting on the generic divine throne; they are generally of low quality, however, and have been ascribed to workshops wishing to imitate royal audience scenes.67 Seals were made of precious stones, and recycling was apparently a widespread practice, especially in the extensive Ur III bureaucracy.68 On two seals, for example, an enthroned high priestess receiving a subordinate in audience can be seen sitting on the fleeced stool of the Ur III king rather than on the cubic stool of her office because both these high priestesses were partially recut from the figure of an Ur III king.69 Neither priestess is otherwise known, and neither seems to have been the daughter of a king. Similarly, all Ur III seals that depict a deity on a fleeced

Fig. 11   Gudea Stela fragment from Girsu depicting parts of a divine throne, 27cm high (Louvre AO 4587 + Istanbul Archaeological Museum 6115; drawing C. Suter)

65

66 67 68

69

Suter 2000, 374–475 no. ST.29; Suter 2015, 519, fig. 4. For the association of the lion with Ningirsu in Lagash now also see Marchesi 2016. Suter 2000, 55, fig. 10; Suter 2015, 519–521, fig. 5. Tsouparopoulou 2015, 33, 41. Some scholars are more willing – perhaps too willing – to accept recutting. For a balanced view see Collon 1987, 120–122, and Mayr 1997, 33–35; for a case of recutting without anomalies, Mayr 2001; and for the recutting of seal inscriptions, Waetzoldt 1995. Suter 2007, 328–329, figs. 7–8.

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stool belonged to common scribes;70 these too were probably recut from seals that had originally depicted an enthroned king. In each of these cases, it seems that headgear and attire were more important for identifying the figure represented than was the seat on which he or she is sitting. Conclusion Sumerian literary texts leave no doubt about the significance of the throne as a symbol of kingship, authority, and urban civilization. While the bulk of these texts were set into writing in the early 2nd millennium BCE, enthroned figures in visual imagery appear nearly a millennium earlier. Both contexts in which enthroned figures are depicted – the banquet and the audience – expressed recognition of authority and hierarchy. The banquet prevailed in the Early Dynastic period of competing city-states, while the audience did so in centralized states under the kings of Akkad and the Third Dynasty of Ur. From the Akkadian period onward, distinct throne designs were developed for particular groups or individuals in order to distinguish between deities and mortals, particular types of deities, particular kings or dynasties, and high priestesses. This development encouraged the breaking of rules and play with established norms: ambitious kings introduced new designs to mark the beginning of a new era; self-deified kings and/or their entourage appropriated or adapted divine thrones for themselves; non-deified kings alluded to their divine status by assimilating a divine throne to their own throne. Such play with throne designs can be observed mainly on cylinder seals, that is, small identity tokens that were less official in nature than was large-scale sculpture and whose message was largely aimed at the royal entourage and state functionaries. Not all anomalies, however, were intentional; some were the result of low-quality imitation or partial recutting. We must also bear in mind that our record is extremely fragmentary and need not always be representative of ancient norms. Each case requires individual treatment and a careful weighing of evidence. The topic of Mesopotamian throne design is fascinating and calls for further study. References Asher-Greve – Westenholz 2013 J. M. Asher-Greve – J. G. Westenholz, Goddesses in Context. On Divine Powers, Roles, Relationships and Gender in Mesopotamian Textual and Visual Sources (Fribourg 2013). Ball 1899 C. J. Ball, Light from the East or the Witness of the Monuments (London 1899). Beyer 2007 D. Beyer, Les sceaux de Mari au IIIe millénaire. Observations sur la documentation ancienne et les données nouvelles des Villes I et II, in: J.-C. Magueron – O. Rouault – P. Lombard (eds.), Akh Purattim 1 (Lyon 2007) 231–260. Boehmer 1965 R. M. Boehmer, Die Entwicklung der Glyptik während der Akkad-Zeit, Untersuchungen zur Assyriologie und vorderasiatischen Archäologie 4 (Berlin 1965). Braun-Holzinger 2007 E. A. Braun-Holzinger, Das Herrscherbild in Mesopotamien und Elam. Spätes 4. bis frühes 2. Jt. v. Chr., Alter Orient und Altes Testament 342 (Münster 2007).

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Mayr 1997, 58 introduces ten examples from Umma as evidence, while Fischer 1997, 129 mentions one from Girsu. There is also one from Ur; see Legrain 1951, no. 423.

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Braun-Holzinger 2013a E. A. Braun-Holzinger, Frühe Götterdarstellungen in Mesopotamien, Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis 261 (Fribourg 2013). Braun-Holzinger 2013b E. A. Braun-Holzinger, Review of: Gianni Marchesi, Nicolò Marchetti, Royal Statuary of Early Dynastic Mesopotamia. (Mesopotamian Civilizations 14), Zeitschrift für Assyriologie und Vorderasiatische Archäologie 103, 2013, 254–261. Canby 2001 J. V. Canby, The ‘Ur-nammu’ Stela, University Museum Monograph 110 (Philadelphia 2001). Civil 2007 M. Civil, Early Semitic loanwords in Sumerian, in: M. T. Roth – W. Farber – M. W. Stolper – P. von Bechtolsheim (eds.), Studies Presented to Robert D. Biggs, June 4, 2004. From the Workshop of the Chicago Assyrian Dictionary, Volume 2, Assyriological Studies 27 (Chicago 2007) 11–34. Collon 1982 D. Collon, Catalogue of the Western Asiatic Seals in the British Museum. Cylinder Seals 2. Akkadian, Post Akkadian, Ur III Periods (London 1982). Collon 1987 D. Collon, First Impressions. Cylinder Seals in the Ancient Near East (London 1987). Cooper 2008 J. S. Cooper, Divine kingship in Mesopotamia. A fleeting phenomenon, in: N. Brisch (ed.), Religion and Power. Divine Kingship in the Ancient World and Beyond, Oriental Institute Seminars 4 (Chicago 2008) 261–266. Delaporte 1920 L. Delaporte, Catalogue des cylindres, cachets et pierres gravées de style oriental du Musée du Louvre I. Fouilles et missions (Paris 1920). Edzard 1997 D. O. Edzard, Gudea and His Dynasty, The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Early Periods 3/1 (Toronto 1997). Eppihimer 2010 M. Eppihimer, Assembling king and state. The statues of Manishtushu and the consolidation of Akkadian kingship, American Journal of Archaeology 114, 2010, 365–380. ETCSL The Electronic Text Corpus of Sumerian Literature. Online (last accessed 25 February 2016). Felli 2001 C. Felli, Some notes on the Akkadian glyptic from Tell Brak, in: D. Oates – J. Oates – H. McDonald (eds.), Excavations at Tell Brak 2. Nagar in the Third Millennium BC (London 2001) 141–150. Fischer 1997 C. Fischer, Siegelabrollungen im British Museum auf Ur-III-zeitlichen Texten aus der Provinz Lagaš. Untersuchungen zu den Verehrungsszenen, Baghdader Mitteilungen 28, 1997, 97–183. Foster 1980 B. R. Foster, Notes on Sargonic Royal Progress, Journal of the Ancient Near Eastern Society 12, 1980, 29–42. Foxvog 2016 D. A. Foxvog, Elementary Sumerian Glossary, Cuneiform Digital Library Preprints. Online (last accessed 25 February 2016). Frayne 1990 D. R. Frayne, Old Babylonian Period (2003–1995 BC), The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Early Periods 4 (Toronto 1990). Frayne 1997 D. R. Frayne, Ur III Period (2112–2004 BC), The Royal Inscriptions of Mesopotamia. Early Periods 3/2 (Toronto 1997).

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Suter 2013 C. E. Suter, The divine Gudea on Ur III seal images, in: B. J. Collins – P. Michalowski (eds.), Beyond Hatti. A Tribute to Gary Beckman (Atlanta 2013) 309–324. Suter 2015 C. E. Suter, Gudea’s kingship and divinity, in: S. Yona – E. Greenstein – M. I. Gruber – P. Machinist – S. Paul (eds.), Marbeh Ḥokma. Studies in the Bible and the Ancient Near East in Loving Memory of Victor Avigdor Hurowitz (Winona Lake) 499–523. Suter in press C. E. Suter, Change of scene. From communal feast to individualized ceremony, in: K. Blanchard – Y. Rakic – P. Zimmermann (eds.), Archaeology from Every Angle. Papers in Honor of Richard L. Zettler (Phildelphia). Tsouparopoulou 2015 C. Tsouparopoulou, The Ur III Seals Impressed on Documents from Puzriš-Dagān (Drehem), Heidelberger Studien zum Alten Orient 16 (Heidelberg 2015). Waetzoldt 1995 H. Waetzoldt, Änderung von Siegellegenden als Reflex der „großen Politik“, in: U. Finkbeiner – R. Dittmann – H. Hauptmann (eds.), Beiträge zur Kulturgeschichte Vorderasiens. Festschrift für Rainer Michael Boehmer (Mainz 1995) 659–663. Westenholz 2011 J. G. Westenholz, Who was Aman-Aštar?, in: G. Barjamovic – J. L. Dahl – U. S. Koch – W. Sommerfeld – J. G. Westenholz (eds.), Akkade is King. A Collection of Papers by Friends and Colleagues Presented to Aage Westenholz on the Occasion of his 70th Birthday 15th of May 2009, Uitgaven van het Nederlands Instituut voor het Nabije Oosten te Leiden 118 (Leiden 2011) 315–332. Winter 1986 I. J. Winter, The king and the cup. Iconography of the royal presentation scene on Ur III seals, in: M. Kelly-Buccellati – P. Matthiae – M. Van Loon (eds.), Insight through Images. Studies in Honor of Edith Porada, Bibliotheca Mesopotamia 21 (Malibu 1986) 253–268. Zettler 1977 R. L. Zettler, The Sargonic royal seal. A consideration of sealing in Mesopotamia, in: McG. Gibson – R. D. Biggs (eds.), Seals and Sealing in the Ancient Near East, bibliotheca Mesopotamica 6 (Malibu 1977) 33–39.

Enthroned Upon Mountains: Constructions of Power in the Aegean Bronze Age Caroline J. Tully 1 – Sam Crooks 2 Abstract: The Bronze Age Aegean lacks a clearly discernible iconography of rulership, permitting widely contrasting speculation on the character of Minoan society – that it was egalitarian, heterarchical, gynocratic or a theocracy overseen by priest-kings. That elites did exist is amply attested by mortuary, iconographic and architectural evidence, including the Throne Room of the Late Minoan palace at Knossos in which a centrally oriented throne with a mountain-shaped back is incorporated into the architectural fabric of the room. Iconographic representations of human figures holding sceptres and standing upon mountains as well as evidence for the increased palatial control of cultic activity at rural peak sanctuaries during the Neopalatial Period (1750–1490 BCE) emphasise an association between rulership and the mountainous landscape. Close analysis of seated figures within Minoan iconography reveals architectonic parallels to the Knossian Throne. Stepped structures, typically surmounted by seated female figures, function as abstract representations of the mountain form. It will be argued here that literal and metaphoric representations of mountain thrones in the form of the Knossos Throne and stepped structures function within an ideological program associating rulership with the natural landscape, thereby offering new insights into the construction of power in the Aegean Bronze Age. Keywords: Minoan Crete, ruler iconography, throne, mountains, symbolic landscape

Introduction Crete is located in the Mediterranean on the ancient trade routes between Europe, Asia and Africa, a position contributing to its important role in networks of cultural interaction in the ancient world. First inhabited during the Neolithic, the island’s small hamlets and villages were the dominant settlement pattern until the end of the Early Bronze Age (the Early Minoan III). From the Middle Bronze Age, a more complex social system emerged and culminated in the appearance of the first palaces, hallmarks of the Protopalatial period. Destruction of the palaces, probably by earthquake, and their subsequent rebuilding mark the beginning of the Neopalatial period, around 1750–1700 BCE. The Minoan palaces formed centres of administration, storage, trade and ritual ideology until their destruction by the Mycenaeans in the Final Palatial period, while Knossos itself was finally destroyed around 1350 BCE.3 Minoan hieroglyphic and Linear A texts remain undeciphered. While the Linear B texts from Mycenaean Knossos provide some insight, we rely primarily on iconographic and architectural sources for reconstructing Minoan culture. Glyptic art, consisting of carved seal stones, engraved metal signet rings and their impressions on clay sealings, and used in palatial administration systems, forms the largest category of Aegean Bronze Age representational art.4 Iconography also appears on objects made from terracotta, faience, stone and ivory, while painted frescoes decorate the walls of elite architecture.5

1

2

3

4

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Centre for Classics and Archaeology, School of Historical and Philosophical Studies, University of Melbourne, Australia; [email protected]. Department of Archaeology and History, School of Humanities and Social Sciences, La Trobe University, Australia; [email protected]. Evans 1921; Evans 1928a; Evans 1928b; Evans 1930; Evans 1935a; Evans 1935b; Hägg – Marinatos 1987; Driessen et al. 2002; Cadogan et al. 2004; Manning 2010; Tomkins 2010. Usually under 3cm in size. Boardman 2001; Krzyszkowska 2005. The seals and sealings are published with bibliography in the Corpus der Minoischen und Mykenischen Siegel (CMS) series. Warren 1969; Foster 1979; Betancourt 1985; Immerwahr 1990.

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The Minoan Ruler Although Minoan monumental architectural structures are traditionally referred to as ‘palaces’, the Bronze Age Aegean – in contrast to the wider Bronze Age Mediterranean and Near East – lacks a clearly discernible iconography of rulership. This has resulted in widely contrasting speculation on the character of Minoan society, and whether it was egalitarian, heterarchical, gynocratic or a theocracy overseen by priest-kings.6 The identification of a Minoan ruler remains a topic of contention within the scholarship.7 Iconographic evidence provides several possible representations of a Minoan male ‘ruler’: standing figures, such as the moulded fresco image of a young male known as the Prince with the Feather Crown;8 staff- and spear-wielding males, such as the figure on the Master Impression sealing from Khania (Fig. 1) and those on the Chieftain Cup and Naxos Seal (Fig. 2); the mature figure on the Harvester Vase; male figurines and statuettes with bent arms and clenched fists, such as the ivory Palaikastro Kouros; males driving chariots (Fig. 3); and mature male figures that wear spirally-wound garments and carry implements that may be considered attributes of kingship, including bows, hammers or fenestrated axes (Fig. 4).9 Images of standing female figures wearing elaborate, flounced skirts and jewellery, as seen in faience statuettes, fresco painting and glyptic art (Fig. 5), have traditionally been interpreted as depictions of a Great Mother Goddess or her priestesses rather than a ruler.10 More recently Marinatos has suggested that some female figures represent queens and, when appearing in conjunction with smaller male figures, depict a queen mother and her son the king.11 Rehak has proposed that seated females represent the figure of Potnia, who is mentioned in the Linear B texts from Knossos and Pylos and whose name means ‘she who has power’, possibly a queen.12 Most of the representations of seated figures in Late Bronze Age Aegean art are female. The depiction of seated males in ancient Aegean iconography of any period is rare.13 Seated male figures occur mainly in groups and never on thrones.14 In contrast, female figures sit on thrones, rocks, stepped altars, tripartite shrines and constructed openwork platforms (Figs. 6–9). The fact that human figures in Minoan art all wear the same types of garments makes the distinction between deities and mortals unclear. Unnatural scale or contexts, as seen in the Mother of the Mountain sealing from Knossos (Fig. 10), representation on or in association with supernatural animals, or hovering in the air may signify actual deities. In contrast, elite female figures seated upon rocks or cult structures are thought to represent human beings performing as deities. Known as ‘enacted epiphany’, a category of ritual performance well known within the study of Minoan religion, such images depict a religious official or member of the elite – possibly a ruler – enacting the personification of a deity.15

6

7 8

9 10 11 12 13 14

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Evans 1928b, 774–795; Branigan 1987; Hamilakis 2002; Schoep 2002a; Schoep 2002b; Cadogan 2009; Marinatos 2010. Davis 1995; Krattenmaker 1995; Rehak 1995b; Younger 1995; Whittaker 2015. Depicted facing right and holding a staff as reconstructed by Niemeier (1987a), in contrast to Evans’ 1928 reconstruction in which the figure is facing left and holding a rope. Hallager 1985; Koehl 1986; Davis 1995; Driessen et al. 2000; Marinatos 2010, 12–26; Tully in press. Goodison – Morris 1998; Eller 2012. Marinatos 2007; Marinatos 2009; Marinatos 2010, 152–155. Rehak 1995b, 117; Thomas – Wedde 2001. Rehak 1995b, 97; Younger 1995, pls. LI–LXXIV. Seated males appear in a Minoan funerary model, as a few terracotta figurines seated on stools from peak sanctuaries, as banqueters in frescoes at Knossos and Pylos, and on a Late Minoan IIIA2 larnax from a chamber tomb at Klima Messara on Crete; see: Rehak 1995b, 113; Vetters 2011, 320. Nilsson 1927, 278–288, 330; Matz 1958; Hägg 1983; Cain 2001, 37; Marinatos 2010, 78–85; Blakolmer 2010; Tully – Crooks 2015, 138, 140–141; Crooks et al. 2016, 160–163; Tully 2016.

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Fig. 4   Drawing of a stone seal from Epano Vatheia depicting a male wearing a spirally-wound garment and carrying an axe (Platon – Pini 1975, no. 198) Fig. 1   Drawing of a clay sealing from Khania depicting a staff-wielding male figure standing on a mountain (Hallager 1985, fig. 11)

Fig. 5   Drawing of a clay a sealing from Khania depicting a female figure standing next to a constructed openwork platform (Pini 1992, no. 176)

Fig. 2   Drawing of a stone seal from Naxos depicting a spear-wielding male figure (Dakoronia et al. 1996, no. 608)

Fig. 6   Drawing of a gold ring from Tiryns depicting a female figure seated on a throne (Xenaki-Sakellariou 1964, no. 179)

Fig. 3   Drawing of seal impression of a gold ring from Knossos depicting a chariot-driving male figure (Gill et al. 2002, no. 193) Fig. 7   Drawing of a stone seal from Crete depicting a female figure seated on a rocky outcrop (Gill et al. 2002, no. 239)

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Fig. 8   Seal impression of a gold ring from Knossos depicting a female figure seated on a stepped ashlar altar (courtesy Ingo Pini and the CMS Heidelberg)

Fig. 9   Drawing of a clay sealing from Khania depicting a female figure seated on stepped openwork platform (Pini 1992, no. 177)

Fig. 10   Drawing of a clay sealing from Knossos depicting a female figure standing on a mountain (Gill et. al. 2002, no. 256)

Mountain Thrones Several different types of seats are represented in Aegean art, of which four main iconographic types can be identified: four-legged stools with high backs that function as ceremonial chairs for important personages; predominantly backless chairs with crossed legs or a folding stool/ campstool; architectural platforms; and rocky peaks or outcrops.16 All of these types are sat upon by females and date to the Neopalatial period on Crete (Middle Minoan III–Late Minoan IB 1750–1490 BCE) save the crossed legged backless stool, which is associated with male and female banqueters and dates to the later Mycenaean period both in Crete and mainland Greece (Late Minoan II–IIIA2 1490–1300 BCE and Late Helladic II 1580–1390 BCE).17 This paper argues that the Knossos Throne, architectural platforms and rocky peaks are all types of thrones that represent mountains, and that these structures function within an iconography of power that associates rulership with the sacred landscape and serves ideologically to naturalise Minoan elite authority. Topographically, the Cretan landscape is dominated by mountains, with a continuous chain extending the length of the island from east to west.18 In an ethnographic study of mountain symbolism, Haaland and Haaland propose that verticality within the natural environment dominates metaphoric constructions of ritual landscapes.19 The same may apply in Crete where the Mino-

16 17

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Rehak 1995b, 96–97; Krzyszkowska 1996, 87–94; Davis – Stocker 2016, 645–646. The recently discovered Griffin Warrior Ring # 4 from Pylos which features a four-legged stool with a high back dates to the Late Helladic IIA, which is contemporary with the Late Minoan IB (1580–1490 BCE) (Davis – Stocker 2016, 645–646). This consists of three different groups: the ranges of Dikte in the east (2148m); Ida in the centre (Psiloritis 2456m), and Leuka in the west (2452m). Haaland – Haaland 2011, 29.

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Fig. 11   Drawing of the carved relief depicting a peak sanctuary on a stone rhyton from Zakros (Shaw 1978, fig. 8)

ans established cult sites upon mountain peaks. During the Protopalatial period (Middle Minoan IB–IIIA–B ca. 1925–1750 BCE) these peak sanctuaries were distributed throughout eastern and east-central Crete and were variously characterised by the presence of terracotta anthropomorphic and zoomorphic figurines, votive limbs, pottery, waterworn pebbles, animal bones and evidence of fire.20 Originally amounting to around forty, the number of functioning peak sanctuaries decreased during the Neopalatial period to as few as eight, all of which were widely dispersed and associated with palatial urban centres. They were architecturally monumentalised and received high quality offerings, suggesting that Minoan elites were concerned with associating themselves with peak sanctuary cults.21 The image on the carved stone rhyton from Zakros depicts an idealised representation of such a cult site (Fig. 11).22 Minoan palatial architecture was oriented to nearby mountain ranges; the Central Courts were aligned between true north and a sacred mountain, as can be seen at the palaces of Knossos, Phaistos and Mallia (Figs. 12, 13, 14). Buildings grouped around the palatial Central Courts may have evoked mountains around a plain.23 Cult stones or baetyls24 erected within urban settings (Fig. 15), as well as stepped cult structures such as altars, tripartite shrines and openwork platforms may have symbolised mountains and facilitated the indexing of peak sanctuary ritual in architecturally elaborated urban settings.25

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Crooks in press. Peatfield 1987, 92; Crooks et al. 2016; Crooks in press. Platon 1971, 166. Driessen 2004, 77; Hitchcock 2007, 91. Natural and worked stones traditionally thought to be aniconic representations of a deity, but which may have multiple meanings and functions. Similar to Levantine massevoth. Evans 1901; Graesser 1972; Avner 1993; Crooks 2012; Crooks 2013. Crooks 2013; Crooks et al. 2016; Tully 2018.

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Fig. 12   Mount Jouktas from the Knossos Palace Central Court, view south (photo by C. Tully)

Fig. 13   Mount Psiloritis from Phaistos Palace Central Court, view north (photo by C. Tully)

Fig. 14   Lasithi mountain range from Mallia Palace Central Court, view south-east, (photo by S. Crooks)

Iconographic representation further implies an association between Neopalatial elites and the mountainous landscape, advertising their involvement in peak sanctuary ritual and connection with mountains. Powerful figures stand upon mountains overlooking towns and palaces, as can be seen in the Master Impression and Mother of the Mountain sealings (Figs. 1, 10). Female

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Fig. 15   Baetyl at Gournia, view south-east (photo by S. Crooks)

figures wearing elite costume sit on rocky outcrops that may be shorthand representations of mountains, as evident in glyptic, fresco and ivory examples from Crete, Greece, the Cyclades and the Levant.26 That the rocky seat is actually a throne is suggested by an image on a gold ring from Mycenae and the gypsum throne from the palace at Knossos, both of which have backs that incorporate rocky clumps or mountainous shapes that suggest an intentional symbolic association between mountains and rulership (Figs. 16, 17).

Fig. 16   Drawing of a gold ring from Mycenae depicting a standing male figure with a spear and a female figure seated on a chair with a rocky back (Xenaki-Sakellariou 1964, no. 101)

26

Fig. 17   Drawing of the Knossos Throne (by A. Crooks after M.A.S. Cameron’s reconstruction in Hägg – Marinatos 1987, 322, fig. 3)

Xenaki-Sakellariou 1964, 30; Chapin 2008, 70; Rehak 1995b, 105–106; Gates 1992. Evocative of the iconography of the Mesopotamian mountain goddess, Ninhursag; see: Westenholz 2002, 17, fig. 2. In the Ancient Near East many deities reside on mountains. Marinatos 2010, 30, 80, 83, 111, 158, 174, 180.

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The Knossos Throne The Knossos Throne is located in the Throne Room suite in the northern part of the west wing of the Palace of Knossos. This group of rooms consists of an Anteroom opening out from polythyron doors27 off the west side of the Central Court; the Throne Room and Lustral Basin; the Inner Sanctuary; the rooms of the Service Section; and a group of magazine rooms to the south. The suite dates back to the Protopalatial period and underwent four building phases between the Middle Minoan II and Late Minoan IIIA1–2 (ca. 1850–1330 BCE). Fig. 18   Drawing of faience votive dresses from Knossos The throne is set against the middle (by P. Rehak, after Evans 1921, 506, fig. 364a–b) of the north wall in the Throne Room and is located on the right as one enters from the Central Court of the palace through the west side of the Anteroom.28 A fresco of palm trees and wingless griffins decorates the wall surrounding the throne, while stone benches run along the walls on either side. Directly opposite the throne on the south side is the Lustral Basin, a specifically Minoan architectural feature of uncertain function consisting of a sunken pit that may represent a cave – cave sanctuaries constituting another type of Minoan cult site – and that may have been used for purification, offerings and sacrifice.29 The throne consists of three parts: a base slab, the stool and a back slab.30 That it may have derived from a wooden prototype is suggested by its carved curved legs, which hint at joinery. The throne may date to as early as the Late Minoan IA (1700–1580 BCE) as its back is slightly embedded into – and thus predates – the latest renovation of the wall plaster, which is usually dated to Late Minoan II–IIIA (1490–1370 BCE), but may be as early as Late Minoan IB (1580–1490 BCE). While it is usually assumed that each Minoan palace served as the seat of one ruler, evidence of a formal throne room is known to exist only at Knossos.31 That the Knossos Throne represents a mountain is suggested by the similarity between the shape of its back slab and the stylised baetyl or mountain peak above the tripartite shrine shown flanked by wild goats on the Zakros Rhyton (Fig. 11).32 As we have already seen, this image

27

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29 30

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Pier-and-door partition system of multiple doorways, characteristic of many Late Bronze Age Minoan buildings, that facilitated seasonal and functional alterations of interior space, light and ventilation, see: Preziosi – Hitchcock 1999, 94. Evans 1935b, 906, fig. 881,915, fig. 989; Mirié 1979; Niemeier 1987b; Cadogan 1992; McGillivray 1994; Goodison 2001. Evans 1935b, 901–946; S. Marinatos 1941, 130; Marinatos 1984, 14; Hitchcock 2007, 94. The base slab is 8cm high, the seat 48cm, and the back slab is 90.5cm high. As a whole, the throne measures 146.5cm in height. The seat is 45cm wide by 32cm deep, flaring out to 50.5cm wide by 32cm deep at its base; see: Younger 1995, pl. LXXIV. Rehak 1995b, 97. A group of rooms in Building A in Quartier Mu at Mallia replicate the plan of the Throne Room at Knossos with slight variations. Contra Dietrich 1971, but see also Rutkowski 1971; Rutkowski 1986; Shaw 1978; Hood 1989, 18; Marinatos 1993, 119–120; Crooks 2013; Crooks et al. 2016. A further association between baetyls and peak sanctuaries may be evident at Atsipadhes Korakias, where the sanctuary area features a dense scatter of waterworn pebbles around a depression entirely free of finds and surrounded by many pottery sherds. The excavator, Peatfield (1994, 92–93) suggested that a focal cult object, possibly a baetyl, may have originally stood in this depression. The peak sanctuary at Leska on Kythera also has a baetylic rock at its summit; see: Georgiadis 2014.

Enthroned Upon Mountains: Constructions of Power in the Aegean Bronze Age

depicts an architecturally elaborated peak sanctuary. The position of the baetyl between agrimia underscores the significance of the stone. In a familiar arrangement from the Ancient Near East, animals or fantastical composite creatures in heraldic composition symbolise the power or status of a central figure.33 Mountainous thrones like the one at Knossos may have originally been more prevalent; stone seats similar to the Knossos throne, but without back slabs, have been found at several locations including the vicinity of the shrine of Anemospilia on the slopes of Mount Jouktas, suggesting their use in cultic activity.34 The wavy-edged baetyl or mountain form is morphologically similar to the baetyls at the palatial sites of Gournia (Fig. 15) and Galatas35 and finds further representation in elite costume at Knossos, where the decoration on faience votive dresses from the Temple Repositories likewise appears to evoke a mountain form (Fig. 18).36 In Aegean iconography griffins are more commonly associated with female than with male figures.37 For this reason, the Knossos Throne has traditionally been thought to have been occupied by a priestess performing the role of a deity.38 This, in conjunction with the mountains depicted on female votive garments, implies an association between women, mountains and power.39

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Fig. 19   Drawing of a clay sealing from Knossos depicting a female figure seated on a constructed openwork platform (Gill et. al. 2002, no. 268)

Fig. 20   Drawing of a gold ring from Thebes depicting a female figure seated on a constructed openwork platform (Pini et. al. 1975, no.199)

Constructed Openwork Platforms Close analysis of seated figures within Minoan iconography reveals architectonic parallels to the Knossian mountain throne: stepped structures surmounted by seated female figures functioning as abstract representations of the sacred mountain.40 Constructed

33 34 35 36 37 38

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Fig. 21   Drawing of an agate seal from Knossos depicting an incurved altar (Pini 1992, no.75)

Crowley 1989, 19–22, 64–69; Feldman 2007, 41, 49. Rehak 1995b, 98. Crooks 2013, 20–28; Crooks et al. 2016, 158–160. Evans 1921, 506, fig. 364a, b; Chapin 2008, 68. Reusch 1958, 357; Marinatos 2010, 53–64. Evans thought that the carved depression in the seat was more suited to female anatomy, but later decided that the throne belonged to King Minos (Evans 1935b, 908–913, 924–927). See also: Reusch 1958; Niemeier 1986; Hägg – Marinatos 1987; Maran – Stavrianopoulou 2007, 350. Hitchcock proposes an empty throne (Hitchcock 2010); Marinatos places a king on the throne (Marinatos 2010, 50–65). Neopalatial elite female costume may have referenced a mountain – the flounced and layered skirt evoking the jagged profile of a mountain. Similar skirts are worn by Hittite mountain deities; see: Chapin 2008, 59–60; Tully 2018; Tully – Crooks 2019. The split-rosette, as seen on either side of the Knossos Throne, which evokes the shape made by incurved altars underneath constructed openwork platforms, as seen in the Tiryns Ring (Fig. 6), appears in conjunction with beam ends on the border of the central female figure’s dress in the Procession Fresco in the West Corridor of the Palace of Knossos, evoking both the palace and mountains; see: Marinatos 2010, 27–28. Tully – Crooks 2015, 146–147; Tully 2018.

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openwork platforms are stepped structures consisting of vertical and horizontal elements with openings in between, and which usually have at least two or more levels that step inwards as they ascend (Figs. 19, 20).41 Although no extant examples exist in the archaeological record, detailed depictions in fresco painting and carved ivory suggest a framework-like construction in which the elevated horizontal Fig. 22a   Drawing of a fresco painting from the north wall, first level, components rest upon incurved Building Xeste 3 at Thera, depicting a female figure seated upon a conaltars (Fig. 21). These platforms structed openwork platform, (Marinatos 1984, 62) functioned as prefabricated stages that could be assembled, disassembled and moved around for use during the performance of religious spectacles.42 Constructed openwork platforms appear in various media including fresco painting, on gold rings and clay sealings, carved ivory and stone rhyta.43 The detailed construction of the platform is most clearly rendered in the fresco from the northern wall of Room 3a on the first floor of the building Xeste 3 at Akrotiri on Thera,44 and on an ivory pyxis from Mochlos on Crete. In the fresco at Xeste 3 the platform is situated in a mountainous landscape amongst a scene of girls gathering saffron crocus stamens (Fig. 22a). The seated figure is enthroned upon the highest level of a three-tiered structure and sits on what appears to be a series of yellow cushions or bales of saffron-dyed cloth. She is attended by a leashed griffin and a blue monkey standing on the second tier, while a girl on the lowest level of the platform empties crocus blossoms into a basket. The central and highest part of the structure is built from stacked blocks, with a horizontal slab or cornice on top. The central area incorporates two lower horizontal slabs that are supported by single blocks on their outer edges and rest upon longer horizontal slabs. These are supported by three incurved altars on the left and one on the right. The structure evokes the high central area and lower outFig. 22b   Drawing of a fresco painting from the north wall, ground level, er wings of a tripartite shrine and Building Xeste 3 at Thera, depicting a female figure seated on a rocky outcrop (Marinatos 1984, 74) the ascending triangular form of a

41 42 43

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Krattenmaker 1991, 284–285. Palyvou 2006; Palyvou 2012, 19. Doumas 1982, 295; Pini et al. 1975, 154; Weingarten 1991, 9, fig. 10; Pini 1992, 179; Gill et al. 2002, 412; Soles 2016, pl. XXXIIA. The Tiryns Ring (Fig. 6) could also be included, although the platform here is not stepped and consists of only one layer with half-rosettes taking the place of the supporting incurved altars, as noted by Krattenmaker 1991, 164; Soles 2016. During the Neopalatial period aspects of Minoan religion spread to or were adopted by Cycladic islands, including Thera, either through Minoan colonisation or increased intensity in Minoan trade. Sakellarakis 1991; Sakellarakis 1996; Branigan 1981, 23.

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Fig. 23   Drawing of a fresco painting from Ayia Triada Villa A Room 14, of (left) a female figure kneeling before two baetyls, (center) a female figure standing before a constructed openwork platform, and (right) cats and goats in a rocky landscape (Stürmer 2001, pl. XVIc)

stepped ashlar altar. The stepped forms of these cult structures represent the idea of triplicity, a triangular structure that may evoke an ascending mountain form.45 That the stepped openwork platform has a symbolic link with rocks and mountains is suggested by a second female figure sitting upon rocks depicted directly below this structure; the position of these two scenes suggests a symbolic equivalency (Fig. 22b).46 The fresco from the north wall of Room 14 from Villa A at Ayia Triada also depicts a stepped openwork platform (Fig. 23).47 That the scene is associated with a mountainous landscape is evident from the right hand panel, in which cats stalk and agrimia leap within a rocky setting evocative of a mountainous hillside. The left hand panel, in turn, may reflect an association between baetyls and mountains as it appears to represent the enactment of a baetylic ritual within a rocky landscape dotted with clumps of flowers, possibly at or near a peak sanctuary.48 The Mochlos Pyxis is a decorated ivory box, the side panels of which are carved in low relief with a seascape pattern, while the lid depicts a four-tiered constructed openwork platform (Fig. 24). On the lowest level, four figures approach the remaining three tiers.49 On the second tier sits a female figure holding a flower, while on the third tier or top of the structure stands a tree, in front of which hovers an epiphanic female figure that may represent the numen of the tree.50 Unfortunately the pyxis is broken at the line separating the upper bodies of the approaching figures, so we cannot discern what types of gestures they were making. As in the Xeste 3 fresco and Mochlos Pyxis, so too in glyptic imagery standing figures bring offerings to female figures seated on platforms. In a sealing from Khania a small female figure may be handing the seated figure a sceptre (Fig. 9);51 in a sealing from Knossos a double-handled vase and conical rhyton are offered to the seated figure (Fig. 19); and in a ring from Thebes a male

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As do Ziggurats and Pyramids; see: Keel 1997, 113–118. Doumas 1992, 16–143, figs. 100–108, 158–165, figs. 122–128, as noted by Rehak 1995b, 106, fig. XXXVIIc. Mountain-shaped rocks within landscapes in fresco scenes, such as the one on the eastern wall of the first floor of Xeste 3, may actually signify mountains rather than a rocky landscape, according to Palyvou 2012, 15, fig. 8. Krattenmaker 1991, 287. That it is a platform and not a wall is evident from the fact that in the actual fresco the orange-brown background colouring can be seen in the openings between the horizontal and vertical elements of the structure. Rehak 1997, 172; Crooks 2013, 48–49. It measures 11cm × 14cm and was found in Seager’s Block A on the western side of the site of Mochlos, now called Area 4, in the wall collapse of a Late Minoan IB building; see: Soles – Davaras 2010, 1. Soles – Davaras 2010, 1–3; Tully 2018. CMS V S1A, no.177, see: Pini 1992. Another interpretation, however, holds that the image depicts child sacrifice and that the ‘sceptre’ is a sword.

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Fig. 24   Drawing of an ivory pyxis lid from Mochlos depicting a female figure seated upon a constructed openwork platform (Soles 2016, pl. LXXXIIa)

figure approaches the seated female figure (Fig. 20).52 Another unpublished ring from Thebes, which depicts a female figure seated on a platform resting on incurved bases and flanked on both sides by a griffin and a Minoan Genius, evokes the fresco at Xeste 3,53 while in another sealing from Khania a woman stands next to a platform (Fig. 5).54 It is evident that only female figures are associated with such platforms.55 While the Knossos Throne was situated in a small room of the palace and must have had a restricted and exclusive audience,56 the surrounding vegetation in both the frescoes from Xeste 3 and Ayia Triada suggest that the events depicted took place outdoors. The presence of crocus flowers in the frescoes may evoke peak sanctuaries as they are depicted in the vicinity of such a sanctuary on the Zakros Rhyton, while in the sealing from Knossos the overhanging rocks suggest a rocky landscape or cave.57 Iconographic images of cult activities in conjunction with openwork platforms may have been intended to evoke ritual performances enacted at peak sanctuaries; the actual events, however, may have occurred at urban sites.58

52 53 54

55

56 57 58

CMS II, 8 no. 268, see: Gill et al. 2002; CMS V, no. 199; see: Pini et al. 1975. As does a Syrian cylinder seal in Vienna; see: Aruz 1995, 15, fig.11. CMS V S1A, no. 175; see: Pini 1992, 179. An Aegean-style female figure feeding rampant goats sits upon an incurved altar on top of a mountain on an ivory pyxis lid from Minet el-Beida; Gates 1992. Except for one example in which two ambiguously gendered Minoan Genii, holding libation jugs and standing upon a two-tiered platform, are depicted on a stone triton-shaped rhyton; see Phillips 2008, 347, fig. 372. Up to around 30 people in the Throne Room and anteroom; see: Evans 1935b, 901–946; Marinatos 2010, 50. Chapin 1995, 68, 128. Rehak 1997, 167, 174; Tully 2018.

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Fig. 25   Incurved altars at Archanes Tourkogeitonia, view north (photo by O. Tausch)

Elite Performance That a constructed openwork platform was utilised at the Middle Minoan I–II (1950–1775 BCE) palatial site of Archanes Tourkogeitonia near Knossos is suggested by the four stone incurved altars, found packed tightly together against a column, on the east side of an imposing entrance way into an antechamber to the north of Courtyard 1 (Figs. 25, 26). The altars were configured into a square, suggesting that their purpose was to form a larger altar or a platform for a seat. They may have been stored in this location and brought out when required and placed at the corners of a larger platform – perhaps the stone table with a raised rim that was found at the site.59 Such an arrangement would have served as an important focus of public gatherings and processions. Archanes is situated below and directly opposite the peak sanctuary of Mount Jouktas, the stepped altar of which directly faces Archanes. The erection of a constructed platform in an urban environment located near a mountain with a peak sanctuary may serve as a metaphorical representation of that mountain. The erection of a stepped platform at an urban site such as Archanes

59

The altars measure 0.96 × 0.96m, while the stone table measures 1.73 × 1.02m. The excavator proposed, by analogy with the Lion Gate at Mycenae, which features a sculpted image of an incurved altar, that the position of these altars in the gateway indicated the presence of a ‘gate shrine’. A nearby fresco depicting a female figure wearing a Minoan flounced skirt and possibly holding vegetation in her right hand on the east wall of Antechamber 2, before the east door of the polythyron leading to Area 3, enhances the cultic nature of the area; see: Sakellarakis – Sapouna-Sakalleraki 1997, 495. The fresco from Xeste 3 shows four such altars holding up the bottom tier of a constructed openwork platform, while the example on the Mochlos Pyxis contains eight. A more stylised pair of bases is painted, in conjunction with the split-rosette motif, on either side of the stone seat in the Throne Room, as noted by Krattenmaker 1991, 291.

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Fig. 26   Plan of Archanes Tourkogeitonia (after Sakellarakis 1991, 29, fig. 14)

may symbolically bring the cultic associations of the peak sanctuary down from the mountain to the palace. When surmounted by an elite female figure, the mountain-evoking platform would signify the figure’s relationship with the numinous landscape exemplified by the peak sanctuary. As an abstracted mountain, the platform at Archanes would have functioned as a theatrical device in a performance or spectacle enacted on an urban ritual ‘stage’. The arrangement of the seated female figure on top of this structure evokes a correspondence with peak sanctuary ritual, as does the Knossos Throne with its ‘baetylic’, mountain-evoking back. As argued above, these structures function within an iconography of power that associates rulership with the sacred landscape and serves ideologically to naturalise Minoan elite authority. The fact that the constructed openwork platform was a temporary structure erected and dismantled, rather than permanently left in place, suggests that it functioned as a theatrical prop used for particular ritual events. Ritual performance is an embodied communicative event that materialises ideology and defines political reality.60 Ethnographic studies demonstrate the importance of elite performance as an aspect of political behaviour in which authoritative identity is actualised through ritual.61 Theatrical events involving female figures seated on symbolic mountains promoted an association between Minoan elites and the sacred landscape that was reiterated and recreated through performance. Power in ancient states was embodied in the persona of the ruler, in monumental buildings and in collective acts.62 Visuality was thus important. Although rulers are not clearly identifiable in Minoan iconography – in contrast to the explicitly identified rulers of Near Eastern art – it is evident that Minoan elites performed authority through ritual action.63 Urban palatial sites can

60 61 62

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Bell 1992, 72–73, 99–100; Soar 2014, 255. Soar 2009, 21–23. Baines 2006; Driessen 2007; Frandsen 2008; Panagiotopoulos – Günkel-Maschek 2012b; Soar 2014; Murphy 2016. Soar 2014, 236.

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be conceived as settings for metaphysical theatre in which elites expressed an idealised reality through physical performance. The association of mountains with palatial architecture brought the symbolic qualities of the axis mundi to the palace and its inhabitants.64 The appropriation of the landscape through architectural design functioned ideologically to establish, maintain, negotiate and reinforce power and status.65 Conclusion Images of elite female figures performing as deities in conjunction with architectonic cult structures symbolising mountains promote the idea of a relationship between Minoan elites and the animate landscape. Through the appropriation of the mountain form, the Knossian mountain throne and constructed openwork platforms were utilised in strategic performances in which elites enacted their relatedness to the landscape within architecturally monumentalised urban locations. Sacred mountains, peak sanctuaries and palatial architecture were directly associated; the symbolic presence of the mountain within such architecture in the form of the baetylic Knossos Throne and constructed openwork platforms functioned ideologically to naturalise Minoan elite authority. Acknowledgments: The authors would like to thank the editors of this volume, Liat Naeh and Dana Brostowsky Gilboa. Thanks also to Nanno Marinatos, Pietro Militello, Ingo Pini, Joseph Shaw, Jeffrey Soles and John Younger for granting permission to reproduce images.

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Schoep 2002a I. Schoep, Social and political organisation on Crete in the Proto-Palatial period. The case of Middle Minoan II Malia, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 15, 2002, 101–132. Schoep 2002b I. Schoep, The state of the Minoan palaces or the Minoan palace-state?, in: Driessen et al. 2002, 15–33. Shaw 1978 J. Shaw, Evidence for the Minoan tripartite shrine, American Journal of Archaeology 82, 4, 1978, 429–448. Soar 2009 K. Soar, Old bulls, new tricks. The reinvention of a Minoan tradition, in: M. Georgiadis – C. Gallou (eds.), The Past in the Past. The Significance of Memory and Tradition in the Transmission of Culture (Oxford 2009) 16–27. Soar 2014 K. Soar, Sects and the city. Factional ideologies in representations of performance from Bronze Age Crete, World Archaeology 46, 2, 2014, 224–241. Soles – Davaras 2010 J. Soles – C. Davaras, Greek-American excavations at Mochlos, Kentro 13, 2010, 1–3. Soles 2016 J. Soles, Hero, goddess, priestess. New evidence for Minoan religion and social organisation, in: Alram-Stern et al. 2016, 247–253. Stürmer 2001 V. Stürmer, Naturkulträume auf Kreta und Thera. Ausstattung, Definition und Funktion, in: Laffineur – Niemeier 2001, 69–76. Thomas – Wedde 2001 C. Thomas – M. Wedde, Desperately seeking Potnia, in: Laffineur – Niemeier 2001, 3–14. Tomkins 2010 P. Tomkins, Neolithic antecedents, in: E. Cline (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of the Bronze Age Aegean (Oxford 2010) 31–49. Tully 2016 C. Tully, Virtual reality. Tree cult and epiphanic ritual in Aegean glyptic iconography, Journal of Prehistoric Religion 25, 2016, 19–30. Tully 2018 C. Tully, The Cultic Life of Trees in the Prehistoric Aegean, Levant, Egypt and Cyprus, Aegaeum 42 (Leuven 2018). Tully in press C. Tully, Agonistic scenes, in: L. Hitchcock, A Companion to Aegean Art and Architecture (in press). Tully – Crooks 2015 C. Tully – S. Crooks, Dropping ecstasy? Minoan cult and the tropes of shamanism, Time and Mind 8, 2, 2015, 129–158. Tully – Crooks 2019 C. Tully – S. Crooks, Power ranges. Identity and terrain in Minoan Crete, Journal for the Study of Religion, Nature and Culture 13, 2, 2019, 130–156. Vetters 2011 M. Vetters, Seats of power? Making the most of miniatures. The role of terracotta throne models in disseminating Mycenaean religious ideology, in: W. Gauß – M. Lindblom – R. Angus – K. Smith – J. Wright (eds.), Our Cups Are Full. Pottery and Society in the Aegean Bronze Age. Papers Presented to Jeremy B. Rutter on the Occasion of His 65th Birthday (Oxford 2011) 319–330. Warren 1969 P. Warren, Minoan Stone Vases (London 1969).

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Weingarten 1991 J. Weingarten, The Transformation of Egyptian Taweret into the Minoan Genius (Partille 1991). Westenholz 2002 J. Westenholz, Great goddesses in Mesopotamia. The female aspect of divinity, Bulletin of the Canadian Society for Mesopotamian Studies 37, 2002, 13–26. Whittaker 2015 H. Whittaker, The hidden ruler. Art and politics in Minoan Crete, Journal of Ancient Egyptian Interconnections 7, 3, 2015, 90–94. Xenaki-Sakellariou 1964 A. Xenaki-Sakellariou, Corpus der Minoischen und Mykenischen Siegel I. Die minoischen und mykenischen Siegel des Nationalmuseums in Athen (Berlin 1964). Younger 1995 J. Younger, The iconography of rulership. A conspectus, in: Rehak 1995a, 151–211.

Mycenaean thórnoi, Homeric θρόνοι: Textual Perspectives Vassilis Petrakis 1 Abstract: This paper examines the use of the Greek term thórnos/thrónos in Mycenaean palatial documents written in Linear B script, with special focus on the occurrence of the term in an inventory of feasting equipment and other paraphernalia from the palace of Pylos (c. 1200 BCE). The use of the term there supports the view that thórnos indicated elaborate chairs, but not specifically the seat of the ruler. This is strengthened by an independent survey of the term θρόνος as used in Homer. Keywords: throne, furniture, kingship, Mycenaean, palace, Linear B, epic language, Homer

Introduction: Scope and Sources This paper takes a look into the evidence for elaborate seats termed thórnoi or thrónoi (alphabetic Greek θρόνοι) in the earliest available Greek sources.2 Its primary focus will be on the clay documents inscribed in the Linear B syllabic script that served the administrations of Mycenaean palatial polities flourishing in the southern Aegean between c. 1450 and 1200 BCE. Evidence of θρόνοι in Homer will also be considered, as these seem to provide some interesting sidelights on the semantic development of thórnos/thrónos. The Linear B documents (mostly clay tablets, though inscribed clay nodules as well as vessels bearing inscriptions painted before firing constitute major groups of inscriptions) are records of transactions that were of interest to the literate central administrations (residing in what we conventionally call ‘palaces’). These documents consist of entries that usually include records of a specific counted or measured commodity (including personnel), often rendered as commodity-signs (also known as ‘ideograms’), and accompanied by signs for measurement units and numbers.3 These records are often accompanied by elliptical annotations (mostly nouns and adjectives, with verbal forms being far less common) rendered in syllabograms (signs for open syllables), either within each entry or in ‘heading’ entries that provide some general information. As Michael Ventris’ decipherment has revealed, these annotations were written in an early form of Greek, whose phonology was still relatively archaic, but whose morphology was already clearly recognizable. Since records from regions as distant as coastal Thessaly, Boeotia, the Argolid, Laconia, Messenia, and Crete appear to be more or less linguistically uniform, it seems preferable to consider this form of Greek as a palatial superdialectal Hochsprache that was shared by Aegean elites of the time. Due precisely to the bureaucratic nature of these records, the information contained in them is deemed free of propagandistic or literary exaggeration or other distortions. These considerable limitations notwithstanding, each Linear B document, as John Chadwick has emphasised, “is an unimpeachable source of hard fact”.4 Although highly elliptical, the information in these documents was not recorded in a vacuum: the tablets are safely anchored in space and time, and are often related to each other in various ways to form coherent ‘sets’ or ‘series’.

1

2

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Hellenic Ministry of Education and Religious Affairs; External Research Associate, Institute of Historical Research, National Hellenic Research Foundation, Greece, [email protected]. In the discussion of Greek terms that follows, I have used Latin transcriptions (placed in italics within the main text) for texts recorded in a pre-alphabetic system (namely, the Linear B script) or for reconstructed forms. The use of Greek alphabetic characters is restricted here to terms preserved in documents employing the Greek alphabet. I omit here, for the sake of brevity, current problems regarding the exact nature and use of these signs in the Linear B writing system. Suffice it to say that these do not represent ‘logograms’ (as they are often termed), that is, ‘wordsigns’. Although I have elsewhere (Petrakis 2017) suggested that the term ‘sematogram’ be used for them, most non-specialist readers will be more familiar with the term ‘ideogram’ as used in Mycenological literature. Chadwick 1979, 24.

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This fact is of tremendous assistance to our own attempts to interpret them. Inextricably tied to the service of these palace administrations, Linear B literacy disappeared with the demise of these centres. Homeric epic is an entirely different kind of source: the Iliad and the Odyssey are oral compositions with specific metric requirements and are composed in an artificial poetic language (a Kunstsprache) based on an epic Ionic dialect with a considerable amount of Aeolic or Aeolicising types as well as some archaic features of Late Bronze Age ancestry and even deliberate archaizations in language, style, and content. These poetic works narrate the deeds of deities and heroes that occurred during and after the mythical expedition against Troy, and are set in an Aegean dominated by powerful kings residing in elaborate mansions, who give due honour to their guests and seek kleos in the battlefield. The oral tradition and verse-making that fed Homeric epic seems to have been rooted in the Late Bronze Age, but, despite certain similarities in the vocabulary and linguistic forms employed, the epics are – to borrow Sir Moses Finley’s famous phrase – “no guide at all” to the Mycenaean world as seen through the Linear B tablets.5 Τhe formidable differences between the world of Homer (from which, with a single controversial exception, writing is conspicuously absent) and that revealed by Mycenaean palatial documents are mostly due to the different nature, genre, and scope of these sources, rather than a reflection of the chronological distance between the likely era of the epics’ production (the post-palatial world and the Early Iron Age, c. 1200–700 BCE) and their era of reference (which appears to be a rather ‘poetic’ Late Bronze Age). Any comparison between Homer and the Linear B records must also take into account that one juxtaposes ‘historical’ and ‘poetic’ sources that represent correspondingly different kinds of truth.6 What was truly obsolete or unknown (and in what sense) to the epic poets and what the same agents chose to dismiss, distort, or ignore as inappropriate to the context of heroic poetry (as Linear B literacy might have been viewed), must be the subject of study, not assumption. That said, similar uses of lexical items in Linear B and the Homeric epic can be just as significant as context-induced semantic differences. As we shall see, the term thórnos/ thrónos represents a case of remarkably consistent use that spans the formidable contextual ‘divide’ between our two principal sources. The idea of the ‘throne’ and its lexical reflection: the etymology and semantics of thrones The concept of a special kind of seat that was fit only for the individual occupying the top position within a given hierarchy may originate in certain inherent properties of the seated posture itself: its suggestion of advanced age might suggest a conceptual link between thrones and seniority (the latter bearing cross-cultural status associations), or, alternatively or additionally, its significance as a metaphor of dominance. It is perhaps significant that both attributes are exemplified in one of the earliest representations of an enthroned figure: the quite corpulent (if not obese) and therefore arguably elder female figure from Çatalhöyük Level II (late 7th millennium BCE) in central Anatolia, whose arms rest upon a pair of felines that flank her (or, alternatively, simply on feline-shaped theriomorphic armrests) – a senior figure of arguably supernatural status dominating wild, undomesticated predators. The broad tendency to provide elaborate seats with theriomorphic legs, observed already in 3rd-millennium BCE Mesopotamian and Egyptian representations and finds,7 may be viewed within this nexus of semantic relationships. These are always relevant to any study of ancient thrones. The institutionalization of the throne, its admission into the category of formal or informal insignia dignitatis, must be viewed as a major development in the function of these elaborate

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Finley 1957, 159. For a recent comprehensive assessment of the relationship between Linear B and Homer, see: Bennet 2014. Salonen 1963, pls. 1, 3; Simpson 1995, 1647–1648; cf. also Petrakis ‒ Petridis forthcoming.

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chairs. This is quite clear in Semitic languages (3rd–2nd millennia BCE), where terms for ‘chairs’ are associated with terms indicating ‘branches’ or ‘cups’ in order to denote the institution of kingship or the royal office itself,8 while in Sumerian the exceptional significance of thrones is particularly transparent in word formation.9 In Hittite, the adopted Sumerogram G͂ IŠGU.ZA ‘throne’, the rendering of this concept in cuneiform texts par excellence, may be used metonymically in order to indicate kingship without further modifications. This metonymic significance of the throne is taken some steps further in Hittite religious texts, where dH̬ almaššuit or dH̬ almaššuiz, a deity of Hattian origin (Hattian name: dH̬ anwaašuit) adopted into the composite Hittite pantheon, is the personification of the deified throne (usually rendered G͂ IŠDAG) itself: dH̬ almaššuit appears to bestow the royal insignia on the newly ascended ruler in ritual contexts, while her male consort appears to be dH̬ almutili or dH̬ alputili (Hattian name: dNiduḫel or dNiduḫil), the personification of another royal insigne dignitatis, the deified curved staff or sceptre (Hittite G͂ IŠkalmuš).10 In Greek, tracing the semantic development of thórnos or thrónos is hardly simple and straightforward. Although the focus of this paper is on the significance of the term in Mycenaean Greek and the use of θρόνος in Homer, any such discussion must be preceded by a consideration of the etymology of the term and origin of the word. The etymology of Greek thórnos/thrónos The generally accepted derivation of Greek thórnos/thrónos from the IE root *dher- ‘to hold’, ‘to support’, is morphologically consistent and defensible from a semantic perspective. A detailed refined account of its formation and development has been offered by Charles de Lamberterie.11 Thórnos is a formation from the o grade of the *dher- root: *dhorh2-no- > *dhor-no- > thor-nos, while thrónos would be the secondary metathesised form that eventually became dominant.12 It is also commonly accepted that both forms are etymologically related to thrā́ nus ‘footstool’, derived from the zero grade of the same root, *dhr̥ h2-nu-.13 Therefore, two terms that are closely related in function in early Greek texts, as we shall see below, are also believed to be etymologically related. This leaves little that remains unexplained and appears to be a satisfactory and convincing proposal.14 However, as de Lamberterie also recognised, thórnos and thrā́ nus thus appear to be

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‘Branch’ (apparently with a sceptre-like quality: Ugaritic ḫṭ, Phoenician ḥṭṛ, Akkadian ḫaṭṭu) is combined with ‘chair’ (Semitic ks’, Akkadian kussû; Aramaic mšb) (cf. also the combination of Hebrew šbṭ ‘sceptre‘ with ks’ in Psalms 45:7). As an authoritative survey of Mesopotamian textual evidence of chairs (including thrones), Salonen 1963, 22–106 is still indispensable; for Near Eastern as well as early Greek (Mycenaean and Homeric) terms for chairs and other types of furniture, see the general survey in Petrakis et al. forthcoming. The compound g̃išgal ‘great wooden’ (g̃iš ‘wood’/ ‘wooden thing’ + gal ‘great’) is the only Sumerian type of furniture to explicitly indicate its high elite function through such a transparent formation (paralleled also in other terms for high figures or things associated with them: abgal ‘sage’ < abba ‘elder’ + gal ‘great’; lúgal ‘king’ < lú ‘man’ + gal ‘great’; é-gal ‘palace’ < é ‘house’ + gal ‘great’). Starke 1979; Soysal 2008, 58–66 with references. de Lamberterie 2004, 241–249. Cf. also Chantraine et al. 2009, 425–426, 1307–1308, s.v. θρόνος. The derivation of Greek θρόνος from *dher- was already proposed by Ferdinand de Saussure (de Saussure 1878, 77, 101). de Lamberterie 2004, 247, 249. The loss of the laryngeal is explained by the “Saussure effect” (defined as the loss of a laryngeal in the environment of an o- vocalism in verbal roots; in Greek, this often occurs in middle position within a lexeme, between a liquid and a nasal). de Lamberterie 2004, 246–247. Cf. also Chantraine et al. 2009, 422, 1307, s.v. θρᾶνος. Lucien van Beek has observed that the verbal root *dher- (Skt. dhar ‘support’) is aniṭ, i.e. not ending in a laryngeal, a fact that might trouble de Lamberterie’s reconstruction (van Beek 2011, 149). However, it is conceivable that the aniṭ form *dher- could have an enlargement with a seṭ form *dherh2-, which might be paralleled in *k̂ er- (‘horn’, ‘head’) and its enlargement *k̂ erh2-. If so, however, evidence for this extension of *dher- (if actually parallel to that attested in *k̂ er-) would be restricted to Greek, which, albeit not improbable, should be considered. All this is not sufficient to shake down de Lamberterie’s reconstruction, which does adequately explain all Greek forms but leaves some room

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quite isolated within Greek and lack certain cognates in other IE languages.15 I do not claim here that this reservation is sufficient to suggest that the term may belong to the non-IE part of the Greek lexicon, usually interpreted as pre-Greek substrate survivals or loanwords from non-Greek Aegean languages with which early Greek had contacts.16 After all, Greek has another term associated with the royal office, which, although it is a patent IE Greek formation, remains unique to Greek: σκῆπτρον, ‘staff’ or ‘scepter’ < σκηπ- + tool suffix -τρον, ‘the instrument that one leans upon/supports oneself with’.17 That both thórnos and skḗptron seem to have been uniquely Greek formations, lacking cognates in other IE languages, is in itself intriguing enough. Just as interesting and potentially meaningful is the observation that etymological reconstructions of both terms (through their derivation from the roots *dher- and *skāp-, respectively) take us back to an original meaning ‘to support/to support oneself’ or ‘to lean’.18 Mycenaean thórnoi or thrónoi In the Mycenaean palatial documents, both thórnos (spelled to-no) and thrónos (spelled *to-rono) occur, and therefore offer little help in reconstructing the history of the word. We should also observe that thórnos/thrónos is not the only word for ‘chair’ preserved in the extant Mycenaean Greek lexicon. The term hédos appears once, in the prepositional phrase o-pi-e-de-i ópi hédehi (PY An 1281.2) to refer to the theonym po-ti-ni-ja i-qe-ja Pótnia Hikwéia (< híkwos spelled i-qo; cf. later ἵππος ‘horse’) in the preceding line .1, where it is usually interpreted as ‘at the seat/residence [of the deity]’. In Homer, ἕδος is a term for ‘seat’ that is also used with the meaning of ‘residence’ (e.g. Il. 5.360: ἀθανάτων ἕδος, ‘the residence of the immortals’ referring to Olumpos).19 Mycenaean Greek *hédos may already have acquired, via pars pro toto metonymy, the meaning ‘residence’, and indeed such a meaning would be appropriate in PY An 1281.2. Knossian documents have only yielded the compound appellative to-ro-no-wo-ko thronoworgōi (dative singular), ‘maker of thrónoi’ in KN As(2) 1517.11. The term occurs in a heading consisting of the prepositional phrase o-pi e-sa-re-we to-ro-no-wo-ko, understood as ópi e-sa-rewei (dative singular of e-sa-re-u, apparently a personal name here) thronoworgōi, followed by a few personal names on lines .12–.13. The prepositional phrase in this case may indicate that the individuals named in the following lines were assigned as falling under the responsibility or supervision of a man named e-sa-re-u, who was a ‘maker of thrónoi’. If the task involved here is craft production (as the mention of thronoworgōi possibly implies), we may justifiably assume

15 16

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for further discussion. I am grateful to Daniel Kölligan and Andrew Miles Byrd for advice on and discussion of these problems, although they should not, of course, be held responsible for the views expressed herein. de Lamberterie 2004, 246–247, n. 32. Robert Beekes has suggested that θρόνος may be regarded as a ‘pre-Greek’ (I would prefer non-Greek) loanword, on the strength of the -onos suffix, which also occurs in Greek words defying convincing IE etymologies, such as χρόνος, ‘time’, or the theonym Κρόνος (Beekes 2010, 558, s.v. θρόνος). However, θρόνος is not included in Beekes’ updated ‘pre-Greek’ vocabulary (Beekes 2014, 47–164). In any case, de Lamberterie’s reconstruction, giving primacy to a thór-nos fragmentation, suggests that the original suffix was -nos (de Lamberterie 2004, 247–249). One might observe, however, that de Lamberterie’s reconstruction rests on the validity of the derivation from *dher(see also supra n. 14) in order to substantiate this priority of thór-nos over thr-ónos. Beekes 2010, 1350, s.v. σκήπτομαι. Beekes’ argument that despite the clear IE formation and existence of cognates in other IE languages, this lexical family may be of “European substrate origin” because no certain cognates are extra-European, is justifiably considered as far-fetched by Palaima 2016, 148. Cf. also Palaima 1995, 135–137. This is not to downplay the fact that terms for key titles and attributes of Greek kingship seem to have been nonGreek loanwords, including wánaks > ἄναξ ‘king/lord’, gwasiléus > βασιλεύς ‘chief/king’ and μέγαρον ‘hall’. See Palaima 2016, 138–150; also Palaima 1995, 120–127 and Petrakis 2016 on the origin of the title wánaks as a loanword from Minoan. See Laser 1968, 35.

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that the Knossos administration considered the production of thrónoi a palatial business that needed to be centrally monitored. Thórnoi (the primary pre-metathesis form in de Lamberterie’s scheme) appear in an inventory of furniture, vessels, and other utensils that is spread over thirteen elongated clay tablets written by the same ‘scribe’ (who may be the inspector or an official helping him) and classified as the Ta set. These records were found gathered and awaiting further processing in Room 7, the ‘ante-room’ of the two spaces forming the so-called ‘Archives Complex’ of the palace building at Epano Englianos (Pylos), whose destruction is dated to the end of the 13th or the beginning of the 12th century BCE (end of the LH IIIB/ incipient LH IIIC phase). The opening line of the entire set (on PY Ta 711.1) includes a sentence with a temporal clause that defines the occasion and purpose of the celebration associated with the making of this inventory and gives us the name of the inspector responsible for compiling the set (perhaps, but not necessarily, the ‘scribe’ himself): hō[?]-wíde Phugégwris hóte wánaks thḗken Augéwān dāmokóron (spelled o-wi-de , pu2-ke-qi-ri , o-te , wa-na-ka , te-ke , au-ke-wa , da-mo-ko-ro) ‘what/how[?] Phugégwris inspected when the king appointed Augewās as dāmokóros’. Besides metal vessels (including tripods) (PY Ta 711.2.3, 709 and 641) and ritual/sacrificial implements (PY Ta 716), the inventory includes eleven to-pe-za tórpedzai ‘tables’ (PY Ta 642, 713 and 715), five thórnoi,20 and sixteen or seventeen (see n. 25) thrā́ nuwes (spelled ta-ra-nu-we; Singular ta-ra-nu thrā́ nus), here clearly ‘footstools’ (see Fig. 1 for images of two representative tablets from this set). All these items are modified by an elaborate descriptive vocabulary consisting of complex, often compound adjectives, participles, and phrases that give information on their material, technique, and decoration.21 A full transcription, with suggested phonetic interpretations and translations of the entries referring to thórnoi and thrā́ nuwes, is provided in the Appendix that follows the main text of this paper. As Cynthia Shelmerdine has been the latest scholar to stress, the orderliness and meticulousness of these descriptions is no less than remarkable: materials are consistently given priority, followed by terms indicating the material for inlaid decoration, and, finally, terms describing the decorative designs on the items inventoried.22 The Pylos Ta inventory is the product of a logical and systematic recording process, expressed through an accurate use of complex descriptive vocabulary. While the current interpretation of the inventory as related to feasting equipment is here endorsed,23 the detailed character of the descriptions support Shelmerdine’s shrewd observation that the inventory “resembles one made for modern insurance purposes, so that each chair could be identified or replaced if it went missing.”24 On tablets PY Ta 714 (Fig. 1a), 708, and 707, five ‘sets’ or ‘pairs’, each constituted of an elaborate thórnos followed by its own associated thrā́ nus, are recorded (Appendix, section b).25 On the

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A possible sixth thórnos has been sometimes suggested, on the basis of the interpretation of the final vertical mark at the right end of PY Ta 714.2, as a word-divider (in which case the entry continues below on line .3) or as a rendering of the numeral ‘1’ (in which case the entry ends here and the terms ku-wa-ni-jo-qe, po-ni-ki-pi belong to the description of a sixth thórnos on line .3). One can fully agree with Shelmerdine (2012, 686) that the former interpretation is far more probable, as the alternative interpretation would result in an incredibly elliptical description (where the -e-jo adjective indicating the material and even the term denoting the type of item, i.e. to-no, would have been omitted). This would be very difficult to reconcile with the detailed character of most other descriptions in these records, even if some of the entries omit bits of information (see Appendix). Latest comprehensive survey and discussion of the Ta entries: Shelmerdine 2012, 685–689, pls. CLVa–b, CLVI; vocabulary list: Varias García 2008, 790–791 (Table 1); latest phonetic transcription of the Ta texts: Meier-Brügger 2008. Shelmerdine 2012, 685–689 (thórnoi and thrā́ nuwes). The order in which the categories of information appear in the entries is, however, somewhat less rigid in the case of the descriptions of tables (Shelmerdine 2012, 690–691). Killen 1998. Shelmerdine 2012, 688. One of the pairs has to be reconstructed: an erased area to the right of the inscribed entry of a thórnos on PY Ta 708.1 is still readable and includes an erased footstool entry, which constitutes the seventeenth of its kind within the set. It is entirely uncertain whether the erasure was meant to imply that this specific thórnos is without any accompanying thrā́ nus, or whether the entry was intended to be replaced at a later, unfulfilled stage of editing. In any case, what should be clarified is whether the item recorded is the original reading ta-ra-nu (rubric nominative singular thrā́ nus)

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Fig. 1   Pylos tablets recording (a) pairs of thórnoi and thrā́ nuwes (PY Ta 714) and (b) single thrā́ nuwes (PY Ta 721). Centimetre/inch scale shown (by permission of Thomas G. Palaima and the Program in Aegean Scripts and Prehistory, University of Texas at Austin, images processed by Uriah Naeh)

strength of Homeric θρῆνυς,26 as well as contemporary imagery, in which chairs with backrests (arguably thrones) are accompanied by footstools (see Fig. 2a–b and discussion below), thrā́ nus is generally accepted in this context to mean ‘footstool’. But while the pairing of each thórnos with its own thrā́ nus is reasonable, we have an additional twelve thrā́ nuwes that do not seem to accompany any thórnoi on PY Ta 721 (Fig. 1b), 722, and 710. The single footstools27 in these latter documents are also accompanied by the ‘ideogram’ *220, a rudimentary sketch of a footstool (Fig. 2a), whereas all five thórnos-thrā́ nus entries lack such ‘ideograms’ altogether (see below). Of the five thórnoi recorded,28 four are described as ku-te-se-jo kuteséios, ‘made of ku-te-so *kútesos’, probably laburnum wood (cf. later Greek κύτισος), but one rather elaborate thórnos is described as we-a2-re-jo, perhaps wehaléios, ‘made of *we-a2-ro *wéhalos’, often interpreted as ‘rock crystal’. However, since both the position and the formation of the term suggest that it must indicate the main material of this thórnos,29 other, more plausible interpretations may be sought,

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or ta-ra-nu-we, (the latter reading opted in Bennett et al. 2013), which might be dual thrānuwe, instrumental singular thrānúwē, or plural thrā́ nuwes (the numeral is not preserved in this erased entry). It must be noted that the latter reading is largely suggested by context and permitted by the length of the erasure, rather than by the very unclear vestigia in the beginning of the erased area before the rather legible ku-te-se-jo, which, to my eyes, defy proper identification. Laser 1968, 44–45. It is interesting to mention, in this regard, that the three published footstools known from Aegean contexts do not seem to have accompanied any chair or throne (Sakellarakis 1996, 110). What follows is merely a brief presentation of the content of these entries. A proper discussion of the complex interpretative problems raised by many of the descriptive adjectives or phrases cannot be accommodated here due to space restrictions, but a full transcription and tentative translation of the relevant entries is given in the Appendix. Shelmerdine 2012, 686. Aura Jorro 1993, 414–415, s.v. we-a2-re-jo. Any attempt to argue that wehaléios here indicates a decorative material stumbles upon the difficulty that this adjective in -eios (spelled -e-jo) appears before

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even the conjecture that Mycenaean wéhalos may refer to another, less fragile kind of stone, including marble or gypsum, or even some kind of metal or metal alloy. Most thórnoi bear elaborate decoration, possibly inlaid (participle a-ja-me-no; perhaps aiaiménos or aiasménos) with a variety of valuable and exotic materials (including gold, ivory, glass, and pa-ra-ku, perhaps a blue-green material, Egyptian blue, lapis lazuli, emerald or turquoise). Often this decoration refers specifically to their backrests (o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja and o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja-pi; perhaps opikrḗmniai and opikrēmníāphi, respectively). Lastly, the decoration includes a great variety of motifs, usually in the instrumental plural case: human figures, palm trees or griffins, birds, calves, and possibly sirens (the exact form of the latter in Bronze Age imagery being unknown). In this succession of instrumentals, which is unparalleled among extant Linear B texts, it is often difficult to identify the exact syntactic relationship between the terms mentioned. For instance, the thórnos on PY Ta 707.1 is made of laburnum wood (ku-te-jo kute{sé}ios) and is described as ‘with gold back-pieces; with birds’, or, alternatively and more provocatively, ‘with a bird-shaped gold backrest’ (ku-rusa-pi o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja-pi o-ni-ti-ja-pi for khrūsā́ phi opikrēmníāphi ornithíāphi). One phrase (or ‘segmented’ compound?) that appears outside the thórnoi section of the Ta set, but that may be relevant to them, is a-pi to-ni-jo (PY Ta 716.1) referring to golden pa-sa-ro. One possible interpretation of this adjective is as the split compound amphi + thorníō (dual), ‘either side of a thórnos’.30 The association between the different types of furniture mentioned in the Ta tablets has been the focus of some discussion. Palaima has ingeniously observed that the sum of the thórnoi plus the thrā́ nuwes amounts to twenty-two items, while the number of recorded tables is just half of that (eleven), suggesting that “each table is meant to have two ‘sitting’ pieces”.31 Besides some factual issues here,32 one would need to accept that these Pylian thrā́ nuwes are not really ‘footstools’, but actually a type of canonical seat, perhaps a stool of some kind.33 Shelmerdine has argued specifically against this, maintaining that “these stools are for the comfort of feet, and are not suitable for sitting on.”34 Her view is based on iconographic evidence that clearly shows footstools as low stools that would make for very uncomfortable seats (see below and Fig. 2b) and that are also remarkably similar in form to the footstool ‘ideogram’ *220 itself (Fig. 2a). To the extent that such an analogy can be accepted as appropriate, one could note that Hittite (G͂ IŠ) GÌR.GUB = G͂ IŠhassalli- could indicate both ‘footstool’ and ‘stool’.35 If such ambiguity indicates the double function of the same type of furniture (rather than a shared term for two distinct types), then Palaima’s suggestion finds a very interesting supportive argument. Turning to archaeological finds from the Late Bronze Aegean, we may observe that while footstools are well attested in funerary contexts dating to the 14th and 13th centuries BCE (thus, roughly contemporary to

30

31 32

33

34 35

the participle a-ja-me-no aiāiménos (?) (perhaps ‘inlaid’) that is followed by names of materials in the instrumental case. The latter being the canonical way of rendering decorative material throughout these entries, we are left with the only possibility that wehaléios (exactly like kuteséios, which appears with a similar -eios formation and in a parallel position) must indicate the main material of which this thórnos is made. Aura Jorro 1985, 79–80, s.v. a-pi. The term modified by this term is pa-sa-ro (rubric nom. dual), which is still unclear though *psalō (nom. sing. psalon or psalos, cf. the Hesychian gloss of ψαλόν as εἶδος χαλινοῦ), ‘ring; chain; band’ might be a reasonable rendering (Aura Jorro 1993, 87, s.v. pa-sa-ro). Palaima 2000, 237. In order to arrive at the sum of 22 items one must either count the highly doubtful sixth thórnos on PY Ta 714 (supra n. 20) or an erased footstool entry (if this was indeed the entry of a single thrā́ nus) on PY Ta 708.1 (supra n. 25). Counting both leads to 23 items, while disregarding both leaves a sum of 21 items. One might note that the ta-ra-nu-we thrā́ nuwes recorded on PY Vn 46.4 and .7 (in the context of other items that may relate to building or shipbuilding materials and relevant repair work) may be taken to indicate ‘supportive beams’ or ‘benches’ (see below). Shelmerdine 2012, 689. For instance, in the detailed descriptions of Hittite royal funerary rites, the cremated remains of the king and queen are cleaned and placed on different types of seats: those of the king are placed on a chair or throne, while those of the queen are placed on a footstool or stool. Thus the remains take part in the funerary banquet as honoured guests, before they are carried to the hekur (the ‘stone dwelling-place’, i.e. the royal tomb) where they were placed on a couch or bed (Bryce 2002, 176–177).

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‒ even if somewhat earlier than ‒ the Pylian inventory), these are not accompanied by the remains of chairs (or, at least, no such remains have been hitherto recognised in these assemblages).36 It is uncertain, however, whether we should infer from this fact that these footstools (presumably called thrā́ nuwes in contemporary Greek) could function also as stools. It is nonetheless interesting that the single thrā́ nuwes in the Ta records find an exact match in the single footstools recovered from Archanes, Mycenae, Dendra, Thebes, and Pylos.37 So far, I have been postponing a question of central importance: were these Mycenaean thórnoi actual ‘thrones’, i.e. seats of rulers? I believe the answer must be negative. The descriptions in the Ta inventory certainly suggest that thórnoi were chairs with backrests, made of moderately precious materials (laburnum wood may have been a substitute for African blackwood, the ancient ebony), but still receiving elaborate figural decoration made of other precious and exotic materials. Their association with footstools is also suggestive of the relatively high status of their occupants. However, their plurality (at least five examples) speaks strongly against their use as actual thrones. In any such consideration, a crucial, but ultimately unknown factor is the exact relationship between the contents of the Ta inventory and the occasion mentioned in the temporal clause of the heading line (PY Ta 711.1). Do these entries represent items that were already used in the past event mentioned in the temporal clause of the heading? Or was the inventory the result of a formal inspection of a deposit area (i.e. a palace storeroom) intended to record items that may have been available to be used in the future for a similar event, but would not necessarily be eventually used? This we may not be able to assess at the moment. The mention of damaged items, namely the tripods on PY Ta 641.1, which would evidently be unusable, can be interpreted in either way. It could support the possibility that the inventory was somehow prospective, that the administration needed to know the condition of these items in order to arrange for repairs; but, again, it is just as likely that the inventory was made in order to record the existence (and, if worthy of notice, also the condition) of specific items after their use in the celebration mentioned in the heading. Whatever the details, the association of all five thórnoi with a single event that had already taken place at the time of the writing of these tablets (the unaugmented Aorist thḗke of the temporal clause in the heading is clear in this regard) is compelling and seems to weaken other theoretical possibilities that one might also consider, such as the interpretation of the five thórnoi as ‘thrones’ that could all be associated with the same enthroned figure (i.e. the wánaks), or the allocation of these thórnoi, ‘thrones’, in different areas of the palace complex.38 For the time being, it seems prudent overall to follow Shelmerdine in her decision to translate thórnoi as ‘chairs’ and to endorse her advice that “the more loaded translation ‘throne’ is better avoided.”39

36 37

38

39

Sakellarakis 1996, 110. For extensive discussion and illustration of these finds, see Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 164–172, figs. 104–108; Sakellarakis 1996. Cf. Farmer ‒ Lane 2016. The burial assemblage in the tomb of Tutankhamun (c. 1323 BCE) included a considerable number of elaborate thrones and footstools, all associated, of course, with the same individual, the Egyptian ruler (Eaton-Krauss 2008), but the relevance of the parallelism depends on the similarity of a mortuary context to that of the Ta inventory. Unfortunately, this is not the proper place to discuss the often summarily rejected theory of Leonard Palmer, according to which the Ta set recorded the contents of a burial assemblage (where the interpretation of thḗke as ‘[he = the wánaks] buried’ is central). Shelmerdine 2012, 685. For a recent elaborate reconstruction of multiple thrones and their function inside and around the Pylos ‘megaron’ guided by the contents of the Ta inventory, see Farmer ‒ Lane 2016. Admittedly, it was in the light of my skepticism regarding the interpretation of thórnos as ‘throne’ that I revisited the Pylian festival name to-no-e-ke-te-ri-jo (PY Fr 1222), perhaps in the genitive plural thornohektēríōn or thornohelktēríōn, which was initially interpreted as ‘holding/ dragging of the thórnos’. Rituals involving the ‘dragging’ or carrying of chairs or thrones, however, are so far unknown from the rich Bronze or Iron Age Aegean imagery, unless one wishes to argue that the so-called ‘Palanquin Fresco’ from Knossos (a composition whose reconstruction and interpretation are still very problematic) represents such a ritual act. I have found it more plausible that to-no-e-ke-te-ri-jo may have nothing to do with any thórnos (either ‘chair’ or ‘throne’), despite the similarity of the spelled form of the first component. The festival name, understood as thornohektēríōn, may instead have been named after the holding of *thórna (plural), ‘flowers, herbs’ (cf. the embroidered θρόνα mentioned in the Iliad 22.441), a word glossed by Hesychius

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Aegean graphemes as representations of thrones and other seats The distribution and use of ‘ideograms’ in the Ta inventory has many intriguing features.40 We shall here be concerned with the interesting fact that the ‘ideogram’ *220, which clearly represents a footstool similar to the one shown in representations, as in that of the great ring of the Tiryns treasure (Fig. 2a–b), does not accompany any of the thórnoi – thrā́ nuwes ‘pairs’ (PY Ta 714, 708 and 707), but instead consistently and exclusively appears in the records of single thrā́ nuwes (PY Ta 721, 722 and 710).41 It is undeniable that *220 represents a relatively accurate sketch of a footstool with a rectangular, box-like form and two lateral protrusions that can be interpreted as ‘handles’. The similarity to representations of items that are used as footstools is admittedly very close and, along with the Homeric θρῆνυς, ‘footstool’, solidify the interpretation of the Mycenaean thrā́ nus as ‘footstool’. I wish to propose that the objective on the part of the ‘scribe’ behind this peculiar occurrence or omission of the ‘ideogram’ *220 was to resolve the ambiguity of Mycenaean thrā́ nus, which could also indicate ‘bench’ or ‘supporting beam’, a meaning that is also compatible with the derivation of both thórnos and thrā́ nus from *dher- ‘to hold’, ‘to support’. Indeed, this significance of thrā́ nus occurs elsewhere in the Pylos corpus, on PY Vn 46, a tablet that seems to record construction materials or structural parts. There, on lines .4 and .7, ta-ra-nu-we thrā́ nuwes are recorded in considerable numbers and associated with other structural parts: on .4 at least twelve thrā́ nuwes are accompanied by the genitive or dative singular ka-pini-ja (either kapníās or kapníāi ‘of/for the chimney’ or skaphníās or skaphníāi ‘of/for the hull of the ship’); on .7, six thrā́ nuwes are accompanied by the genitive plural pi-ri-ja-o phliā́ hōn (cf. φλιά, plural φλιαί) ‘door jambs’.42 These thrā́ nuwes receive no further descriptive modifications, and their interpretation as ‘supporting beams/planks’ appears, given their contextual associations, quite compelling. Apparently aware of such ambiguity,43 the ‘scribe’ of the Ta inventory inserted *220 (an exclusively Pylian sign, that may even have been this scribe’s own invention) only in those cases where a misunderstanding was considered possible: in the single entries of thrā́ nuwes. It is likely that the employment of the ‘ideogram’ was considered redundant in the entries where thrā́ nuwes were paired with thórnoi: there the interpretation of thrā́ nus as ‘footstool’ must have been considered safe due to their association with chairs. The economic way in which the ‘scribe’ of the Ta tablets appears to have used ‘ideograms’ is quite remarkable.44 The distinction between two variants named a and b, based on the presence (variant a) or the lack of legs (variant b), is currently accepted, although it appears (rightly) only in the Apparatus Criticus of the inscriptions and not in the transcriptions themselves (marked with small capitals in the translations in this Appendix).45 Variant a appears only once, in the ‘ideogram’ that follows the entry on PY Ta 722.1. The presence of legs on this sign seems to be clear, but it is not entirely certain whether this represents a meaningful and important distinction. It must be noted

40

41

42

43

44 45

as ἄνθη, ‘flowers’. Figures holding flowers constitute a familiar theme in Aegean Late Bronze Age iconography and include the processional female figures from a plaster dump in Epano Englianos itself (Petrakis 2002–2003). See Petrakis 2017 for an introduction to the problems surrounding the function and perception of Linear B ‘ideograms’ or ‘sematograms’, including the interpretation of the variants of the ‘ideogram’ *202VAS in the di-pa (dipas, cf. δέπας) entries on PY Ta 641 (Petrakis 2017, 157–158). For a comprehensive discussion of *220, see Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 161–172, figs. 101–109, pl. XCVII; Sakellarakis 1996. Aura Jorro 1985, 317, s.v. ka-pi-ni-ja, endorsing the interpretation of the term as ‘chimney’ (< kapnós ‘smoke’); 1993, 123–124, s.v. pi-ri-ja-o. A similar ambiguity may also be discerned in epic language: the expression θρῆνυς ποσὶν, ‘θρῆνυς for the feet’ (Od. 1.131, 4.136, 10.315, 10.367, 19.57), though included in a formulaic expression, may indirectly imply that there were other kinds of θρήνυες that served other purposes, therefore making an arguable case for a similarly generic meaning of thrā́ nus/ θρῆνυς in both the Linear B tablets and Homer. Petrakis 2017, 157–158. For the current transcriptions of the Pylos Linear B documents, see Bennett et al. 2013; for the variants of *220, see Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 163; Sakellarakis 1996, 106, fig. 1.

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Fig. 2   (a) variants (in relative scale) of ‘ideogram’ *220 ‘footstool’ or thrā́ nus: type a represents the type with legs, a hapax on PY Ta 722.1 (enclosed in a red rectangular frame), while type b is shown without legs; all but one example of *220 belongs to this latter type (cf. also transcriptions in Appendix); (b) representation of a footstool from the great ring from the Tiryns treasure (enclosed in red rectangular frame in the drawing of the impression of the ring); (c) variants of ‘ideogram’ *169 showing the better preserved examples on PY Pa 49 and PY Pn 30.4; (d) stylised renderings (not in relative scale) of beds and seats on Late Geometric pictorial pottery (rearranged by the author based on selections from Laser 1968, figs. 1 and 7). (Images a and c after Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, pls. XCVII-XCIX, reproduced courtesy of J.-P. Olivier; image b reproduced courtesy of D. Panagiotopoulos, by permission of the Corpus der minoischen und mykenischen Siegel)

that variant b also occasionally shows extensions of the vertical lines, which could be interpreted as rudimentary legs (Fig. 2a). Moreover, it remains problematic, when viewed in the context of the scribe’s orderliness and attention to detail, why such an important distinction was not marked with some appropriate phonographic (i.e. syllabographic) annotation on Ta 722.1, such as the instrumental plural póphi (< *pópphi < *pódphi) spelled po-pi, ‘with legs’ (cf. PY Ta 642.3 in the description of a stone table in the same inventory).46

46

Aura Jorro 1993, 133, s.v. po-de (for the formation, cf. also the compound instrumental plural qe-to-ro-po-pi kwetrópophi ‘with quadrupeds’ in the Pylos Ae tablets: Aura Jorro 1993, 203, s.v. qe-to-ro-po-pi).

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Another ‘ideogram’ that may represent a seat is *169 (Fig. 2c). Like *220, *169 is exclusively Pylian, and appears on documents assigned to the Pa and Pn series (PY Pa 49, 53, 889; Pn 30.2‒.4). In two cases (PY Pa 49 and perhaps also on 53) the sign is preceded by the single syllabogram DE, which functions as an acrophonic abbreviation of a term, perhaps an ‘adjunct’ to the ‘ideogram’ itself. DE has been interpreted as an acrophonic abbreviation for de-mi-ni-jo, or de-mi-ni-ja for neuter démnion or feminine demníā, corresponding to the Homeric δέμνιον, ‘bed’ or ‘bedstead’.47 However, the interpretation of the ‘ideogram’ as a representation of a stool has also been proposed on the basis of an (admittedly close) similarity between the form of the Linear B sign and certain representations of stools in Late Geometric (2nd half of the 8th century BCE) pictorial pottery.48 Despite this close correspondence, it remains doubtful whether the form of the legs of the artefact in question are exclusive to beds or stools. A general survey of how furniture items are rendered in Late Geometric art shows that similar types of legs are shown on beds and seats (Fig. 2d).49 The terms de-mi-ni-ja and de-mi-ni-jo occur a few times in our extant Linear B corpus, but unfortunately in contexts where their meaning is not very clear.50 However, even if the meaning of de-mi-ni-ja were clear in all instances, and if such an acrophonic interpretation of DE were certain, the function of DE as an adjunct to *169 should lead us to question whether this term was the name of the commodity rendered by the ‘ideogram’, as adjuncts are by definition modificatory. For the time being, we may be on safer ground to conclude that both ‘bedstead’ and ‘stool’ are plausible interpretations of the form of the ‘ideogram’, but that its association with demi-ni-ja is uncertain.51 A final comment must be reserved for the possible representations of seats (chairs or possible ‘thrones’) in the form of certain ‘pictorial’ signs employed as graphemes, either syllable-signs (syllabograms) or ‘ideograms’. The idea goes back to Sir Arthur Evans, who considered Linear B sign AB 61, which is now assigned the value , as the representation of a throne seen in profile, with a sceptre sticking out of the outline (Fig. 3a).52 Interestingly, the idea finds a match in the close semantic association between ‘throne’ and ‘sceptre’ in Near Eastern languages, as well as in the observation that both the Greek thórnos and skḗptron are particular Greek formations whose roots share the meaning ‘to hold’ (see above on the etymology of the terms). By noting the analogies with Egyptian and Near Eastern material, Evans indirectly betrays the indebtedness of his own interpretation of AB 61 as a ‘throne-and-sceptre sign’ to such parallels.53 This alone should not indicate, of course, that such an interpretation is unlikely. The actual problem is that Evans’

47

48 49 50

51

52 53

On *169, see Sacconi 1973; Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 172–176, figs. 110–112, pls. XCVIII–XCIX. On Homeric δέμνιον, see: Laser 1968, 7–10. E.g. in Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 174–176, figs. 111–112; cf. also Laser 1968, 47, fig. 7d. Cf. Laser 1968, 19, fig. 1 (beds) and 47, fig. 7 (stools and chairs). See Aura Jorro 1985, 166, s.vv. de-mi-ni-ja, de-mi-ni-jo with references. On PY Vn 851.1, de-mi-ni-ja (gender unknown, but one assumes that it is neuter plural in accordance with Homeric δέμνιον) is the only surviving signgroup of what may be a heading line. The rest of the recto includes sign-groups that may be personal names in the dative (the case of the ‘recipient’) followed by numerals (‘1’ or ‘2’). This may well be a record of ‘bedsteads’ probably produced under palatial supervision (cf. the to-ro-no-wo-ko at Knossos, see previous section) assigned to different named individuals. However, one should ask why, if *169 records de-mi-ni-ja, this ‘ideogram’, apparently available to Pylian ‘scribes’ is not used here. The term de-mi-ni-ja appears again on PY Xn 1482.4, where it perhaps notes a crafted product (cf. the ke-ra-e-we on line .2). The significance of de-mi-ni-jo (dual demníō or a case of the personal name Démnios) on the nodule PY Wr 1326.γ is also obscure (is this a record of two beds or an assignment of something to a named individual?). On MY V 659.1 (the first line of a record that lacks heading) de-mi-ni-ja follows the feminine personal name, wo-di-je-ja: it is unclear in this case whether the term might be an appellative or ethnic adjective modifying wo-di-je-ja. Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier (1979, 172) have conjectured that another plausible name for the item rendered by *169 would be e.-re-te-ri-ja, an obscure hapax (probably an adjective modifying the preceding qa-s..i-re-wi-ja) that appears on PY Pa 889[+]1002 before *169 (see also Aura Jorro 1985, 242, s.v. e.-re-te-ri-ja with references). It is impossible to confirm or reject this hypothesis. Evans 1935, 686–688 with fig. 670. Evans 1935, 687–688.

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Fig. 3   (a) select variants (not in relative scale) of Linear B sign AB 61 from Knossos, Pylos, Thebes, and Mycenae (selections from Driessen 2000, pl. 80); (b) select variants (in relative scale) of Linear A sign AB 61 in documents from Ayia Triada, Khania, Tylissos, and Kato Zakros (after Godart ‒ Olivier 1985, xxxviii and micro-fiches); (c) select variants (in relative scale) of Cretan Hieroglyphic sign 056 on clay archival documents (after Olivier ‒ Godart 1996, 410-411); (d) select variants (in relative scale) of Cretan Hieroglyphic sign 036 on clay archival documents (after Olivier ‒ Godart 1996, 399); (e) Linear A sign A 344, occurring hapax on HT 96a.4 (after Godart ‒ Olivier 1985, l). (Image a reproduced courtesy of Professor Jan Driessen; images b-e reproduced courtesy of Professors J.-P. Olivier and L. Godart)

view is placed within the broader idea that certain Linear B signs could function as ‘determinatives’ that classify other ‘ideograms’ or phonographic sign-groups into broader semantic categories, as is the case in the Egyptian or the cuneiform system. Since Ventris’ decipherment, however, it has been increasingly clear that neither Linear B nor any other Aegean Bronze Age writing system employed such signs. Evans was driven by the misconception (shared among other scholars of Aegean scripts at that time) that certain signs could function as such ‘determinatives’, and his opinion that the occurrence of AB 61 could designate specific names or titles as being related to the ‘throne’ (i.e. ‘royal’ sensu lato)54 is an expression of this (now abandoned) idea. Moreover, the resemblance of AB 61 to the Knossos gypsum throne noted by Evans55 is not very close. If one should like to maintain a ‘throne’ as the inspiration for the Linear B variants,

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Evans 1935, 688. Evans 1935, 915–919, figs. 889–893. The image of the Knossos throne is broadly reproduced in both general handbooks and specialised studies, although the throne itself is seldom discussed (cf. Tully ‒ Crooks, this volume).

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perhaps the terracotta ‘throne’ models (late 14th–13th centuries BCE) might provide a better match (Fig. 4).56 Against any link with ‘thrones’, the palaeographic development of the sign shows that in the Linear A system, AB 61 had a more rectangular, rather box-like shape, with a top element that might have later evolved into Evans’ ‘back’ of the ‘throne’ or the ‘sceptre’-looking feature (Fig. 3b). Relevant too may be sign 056 in the so-called ‘Cretan Hieroglyphic’ script, which is close to the Linear A form of AB 61 Fig. 4    Terracotta models of ‘thrones’ from Tiryns, centimetre (Fig. 3c).57 The signs in both signaries scale shown (after Vetters 2011, 321, Fig. 1; by permission of M. Vetters) may well be associated. In all these cases, however, the ‘throne’-like qualities emphasised by Evans do not stand out. In any case, there are no clear instances of any Aegean Bronze Age grapheme serving as a representation of a throne, and, as reported above, the records of thórnoi are not accompanied by any relevant ‘ideogram’. The only other possible cases of signs displaying a similarity to the frontal view of a stool (perhaps with a modelled seat but without a back-rest) is sign 036 in the ‘Cretan Hieroglyphic’ script, as well as Linear A sign A344 (Fig. 3d–e). While 036 occurs in sign-groups and must therefore be a phonogram, the function of the hapax A344 is uncertain.58 The values of Cretan Hieroglyphic and Linear A phonograms are presently unknown. Homeric θρόνοι59 The interpretation of Mycenaean Greek thórnos or thrónos as a term for a luxury chair that has not (yet) acquired the specific, nearly exclusive connotation of the singular seat of the ruler is paralleled in the use of θρόνος in Homer.60 Here the term indicates, exactly as it does in the Pylian

56

57 58

59 60

On these terracotta models, see Vetters 2011. One might also wish to observe that the overall form of the Linear B sign 61 is more similar to the ideogram *225 ‒ transcribed as alv(eus)‒ of a bathtub, spelled either re-wo-te-re-i-jo for lewotréion (later metathesised as λόετρον, as it appears already in Homer) or a-sa-mi-to for asáminthos. The handles of the portable bathtub are, of course, a significant difference (see: Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979, 178–180, pl. C:4). *225 is again exclusively Pylian (PY Tn 996.1), unlike the rendering of a bathtub as a plain rectangle at Knossos (*246 on KN Ws 8497.α, U 437 and U 5186.1, see: Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier, 176–178, pls. C:1–3). These comparisons serve, more than anything else, to stress the dangers in simply comparing the outlines of signs without attention to other features of their function and use. Olivier ‒ Godart 1996, 410–411. In its single occurrence on HT 96a.4, A344 follows A323, and is followed by a vertical stroke which is perhaps the numeral ‘1’. Although Godart ‒ Olivier (1985, 304) prefer to index this occurrence as isolated (in which case, a function as a commodity ‘ideogram’ would be probable), this must remain uncertain: the two signs are not clearly separated (a small mark on the upper right of A323 may be accidental or part of a previously erased text). We must leave open the possibility that they form a sign-group (in which case, A344 is a phonogram). A323 occurs three more times in our extant corpus of Linear A inscriptions (Godart ‒ Olivier 1985, 298): on two of them (HT 29.4 and HT 31.4), it clearly forms part of a sign-group. The only other possible function of the sign as an isolated grapheme (‘adjunct’, abbreviation or commodity ‘ideogram’) is on HT 96a.3, where, however, it is clearly separated from the following sign (which is A317 and very often occurs in isolation, i.e. as a probable commodity ‘ideogram’, see Godart ‒ Olivier 1985, 296) by a dot-like mark (this marks the sign-group division throughout both sides of HT 96 and on other Linear A tablets as well). All translations of Homeric and other Greek terms and passages in this paper are made by the author. A comprehensive survey of Homeric furniture is to be found in Laser 1968 (38–41 for θρόνος).

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Ta tablets, a seat that carries some honour, but hardly a piece of furniture that constitutes a royal prerogative. This is particularly obvious in the function of θρόνοι in the Odyssey, as in the description of the great hall in the mythical palace of Alkínoos61 (Od. 7.95–99): ἐν δὲ θρόνοι περὶ τοῖχον ἐρηρέδατ᾽ ἔνθα καὶ ἔνθα, ἐς μυχὸν ἐξ οὐδοῖο διαμπερές, ἔνθ᾽ ἐνὶ πέπλοι λεπτοὶ ἐΰννητοι βεβλήατο, ἔργα γυναικῶν. ἔνθα Φαιήκων ἡγήτορες ἑδριόωντο πίνοντες καὶ ἔδοντες· ἐπηετανὸν γὰρ ἔχεσκον. in there θρόνοι were set along the wall all around [the hall] from the threshold right through [the hall] to its innermost place, and upon them sheets fine, well-woven, were thrown, the work of women. Upon them the leaders of the Phaeacians liked to drink and eat; for they had abundance. When the blind singer Dēmódokos enters the hall, he is swiftly served by the herald Pontónoos (Od. 8.65–66): τῷ δ᾽ ἄρα Ποντόνοος θῆκε θρόνον ἀργυρόηλον μέσσῳ δαιτυμόνων, πρὸς κίονα μακρὸν ἐρείσας So, for him, Pontónoos placed a silver-studded θρόνος in the midst of the banqueters, leaning it against a tall column/pillar These passages are quite indicative of how θρόνοι are used in the epic: not exclusively by rulers. Phaeacian ἡγήτορες ‘leaders’ may be argued to have been leaders of some relatively high-status (although the ἐπηετανὸς, ‘abundance’, may refer to all Phaeacians), and certainly the twelve βασιλῆες of this mythical society mentioned later as the council led by Alkínoos (Od. 8.390) must be counted among these ἡγήτορες. However, Dēmódokos is not a leader even if he too enjoys a special status as an ἀοιδός. The Phaeacian context is very typical: θρόνοι are used during dining in the ‘men’s halls’ and always by men deserving some honour and respect (regardless of their actual title, status, and political function). It is worth noting that this category includes virtually all guests, without excluding even the disgraceful suitors. In the first book of the Odyssey, Tēlémakhos welcomes Athḗna in the guise of Méntēs and leads her ἐς θρόνον […] καλὸν δαιδάλεον ὑπὸ δὲ θρῆνυς ποσὶν ἦεν, “towards a θρόνος, beautiful and elaborate; and under it there was a θρῆνυς for the feet” (Od. 1.130–131). A few verses later, the suitors (called ἀγήνορες, ‘arrogant’) enter the hall, where ἑξείης ἕζοντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε, (Od. 1.145) they were placed (ἕζοντο) orderly (ἑξείης) on κλισμοί and θρόνοι This patently formulaic phrase occurs two more times in the epic (although the verbal form may vary somewhat), always when guests and hosts sit down to eat and drink: Néstōr with his sons, sonin-laws, and guests (3.389), and Laértēs with Odússeus and guests (24.385). It has been argued that ἑξείης ἕζοντο conveys the notion of some hierarchic differentiation between those who sat on these two types of ‘chairs’, suggesting that the criterion was age: “die Älteren, Ranghöheren sitzen auf θρόνοι, die Jüngeren auf κλισμοί.”62 First, we should observe that ἑξείης (poetic form for ἑξῆς) refers primarily to the orderliness of the action described: namely, that these people did not push each other while taking their seats. This is more likely a reference to good manners and noble behaviour (even when the suitors are involved; remember, the phrase is formulaic), rather than due to some implicit hierarchic order. While it is true that ἑξείης appears in cases where the seated individuals may

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Cook (2004) has argued that the description of Alkínoos’ palace is based on knowledge of 9th–7th century BCE Assyrian palaces. However, Assyrian throne installations do not seem to be the source of the use of θρόνος here. Laser 1968, 44.

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be seen as belonging to at least two different age-groups,63 we should observe that the prepositional phrase κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε does not. In Od. 15.134, the use of a dual (ἑζέσθην), apparently refers to the two guests of Menélaos, Tēlémakhos, son of Odússeus, and Peisístratos, son of Néstōr: they ἑζέσθην δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἔπειτα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε.64 Clearly Tēlémakhos and Peisístratos are not presented as unequal in age or rank. In Od. 10.233, Kírkē deceives Odússeus’ companions by inviting them to a meal, εἰσαγαγοῦσα κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε. Again, we would not describe them as a differentiated group. Moreover, it is not only people that are placed on these seats. On no less than three occasions, guests place cloaks on κλισμοί and θρόνοι upon entering the house of the host (χλαίνας μὲν κατέθεντο κατὰ κλισμούς τε θρόνους τε: Od. 17.86; 17.179; 20.249). No hierarchic division seems applicable to these garments. To make things even worse for the hierarchic interpretation of these terms, a short account of the services provided to guests mentions that after their bath, they are seated on κλισμοί (Od. 17.90). If one wishes to maintain the relatively higher status of θρόνοι here, it must also be accepted that dirty cloaks can be of higher status than bathed guests. In a couple of cases in the Iliad, Siegfrid Laser admits that “θρόνος und κλισμός nur noch verschiedene Bezeichnungen für die gleiche Sache”, as the poet seems to refer to the same item once as κλισμός and once as θρόνος within the same scene.65 The two examples in question are: a) the seat of Néstōr: ἐς κλισίην ἐλθόντες ἐπὶ κλισμοῖσι καθῖζον (Il. 11.623) when they came into the κλισίη (residence vel sim), they sat on κλισμοί but later on: τὸν δὲ ἰδὼν ὁ γεραιὸς ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο φαεινοῦ (Il. 11.645) upon seeing him [i.e. Pátroklos], the old man got up from the brilliant θρόνος b) the seat of Akhilléus, during the visit of Príamos: αὐτίκ᾽ ἀπὸ θρόνου ὦρτο, γέροντα δὲ χειρὸς ἀνίστη (Il. 24.515) [Akhilléus] immediately got up from the θρόνος, and raised the old man by the hand but later on: ἕζετο δ᾽ ἐν κλισμῷ πολυδαιδάλῳ ἔνθεν ἀνέστη (Il. 24.597) [Akhilléus] was seated on a much-elaborate κλισμός, from where he had risen Although it is apparent that no audience with a clear knowledge of the proper hierarchical distance between κλισμός and θρόνος would endorse such interchangeability,66 it could still be argued that such an undifferentiated use could be acceptable in the context of an artificial poetic Kunstsprache. For this reason we may need additional evidence to support the claim that the epic use of θρόνος can be considered a reliable indicator of the significance of the term in early Greek. There are instances where the epic language was not interested in using different terms in an exact, technical sense. This appears to be the case with Homeric φᾶρος, which indicates a ‘garment’ or ‘textile’ in a more or less generic manner (e.g. Od. 2.97 for a funerary shroud; 3.467 for a cloak

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65

66

E.g. in Od. 3.389. In the case of the suitors, however, differentiating between aged and young competitors is very controversial. The previous verse refers to the two guests in the plural, however (15.133: τοὺς δ’ ἦγε πρὸς δῶμα κάρη ξανθὸς Μενέλαος, “those led to the mansion fair-headed Menélaos”). Some interchangeability between θρόνος and κλισμός seems to occur in later Delian inscriptions, however (cf. Pritchett 1956, 219). Homeric θρῆνυς, it must be added, seems to accompany both θρόνος (Od. 1.130–131, 10.314–315, 10.366–367) and κλισμός (Od. 4.136) or even κλισίη (Od. 19.57) (Laser 1968, 44–45). Also, certain adjectives accompanying both nouns are not dissimilar: χρύσεος/ χρύσειος, δαιδάλεος, φαεινός/ φαιεινός (Laser 1968, 40–41, 44).

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placed on the shoulder of Tēlémakhos; 5.230 for a garment worn by Kalypsṓ, etc.). This stands in contrast to the highly technical sense of Mycenaean phā́ rwos (which appears primarily in the plural phā́ rweha spelled pa-we-a or pa-we-a2) in documents from Knossos related to textile production (especially those of the Lc(1) set), where it is distinguished from other terms that indicate apparently different types of textile, such as the rather obscure tu-na-no, pe-ko-to (perhaps pektón, cf. πέκω) or te-pa (cf. τάπης). On the strength of the phā́ rwos/φᾶρος example, one might anticipate a stricter technical use of thórnos in the Mycenaean administrative documents, as opposed to the rather ‘loose’ use of θρόνος in Homer. However, the use of the term in both cases is remarkably similar, thus greatly strengthening the possibility that a non-exclusive use of thórnos as a term for a distinguished seat was canonical in early Greek from the Late Bronze Age down to the Early Iron Age (the most likely formative period of the Homeric epics as we know them). This, of course, is not to entirely reject any distinction between θρόνος and other terms for seats used in Homer. That θρόνος and κλισμός may have referred to two identifiable and distinguishable types of chair may be hinted at in the epic reference to Zeus seated on a golden θρόνος (Il. 8.442) alongside major goddesses, such as Hḗra or Athḗna, placed on golden κλισμοί among the other gods (Il. 8.436).67 That said, an indication that we should not read too much into the distance between θρόνοι and κλισμοί as reflecting the hierarchy of the Olympian deities in a straightforward manner is the reference to Hḗra sitting on a θρόνος rather than a κλισμός, earlier in the same book of the Iliad. The goddess’ fierce reaction against Héktōr’s boast is described eloquently: Hḗra νεμέσησε [...] σείσατο δ’ εἰνὶ θρόνῳ, ἐλέλιξε δὲ μακρὸν Ὄλυμπον, “she was enraged with vengeance […] and she rocked on her θρόνος and she shook high Olumpos” (Il. 8.198–199). Even here, within this specific part of the Iliad, therefore, θρόνος is not Zeus’ unique prerogative.68 Laser, discussing the non-exclusive use of θρόνοι by rulers and supreme figures in Homer, concludes that “[n]ach dieser Schilderung hat sich der Thron von seiner ursprünglichen Funktion gelöst, das heißt ‘gelöst’ im wahrsten Sinne des Wortes, und hebt nicht mehr, wie etwa im Thronsaal von Knossos, dem Herrscher über seine Vasallen hinaus.”69 This statement we may happily endorse, with one important modification: θρόνος lost nothing, because the exclusive association of this term with the seats of the rulers’ formal appearances had not yet been developed. So far it has been argued that the Homeric θρόνος (like the Mycenaean Greek thórnos) did not carry the meaning of the exclusive official seat of the sovereign. In our extant documentation, it appears that this specific meaning of the word is a later development, perhaps no earlier than the late 6th or the early 5th century BCE, although the earlier, non-exclusive meaning remained in use, as is shown by the mention of domestic θρόνοι, elaborate chairs but not royal thrones, in the late 5th-century BCE Attic stelai.70 The clearest demonstration of this shift in the use of θρόνος to designate the seat of the ruler as a symbol of his power par excellence is observed in the use of the term in the Attic tragedy of the 5th century BCE.71 Aeschylus uses plural θρόνοι in order

67

68

69 70

71

Still, “der Thron hebt also auch unter den Göttern keinen Einzelnen heraus, sondern bleibt Standesvorrecht. Nie macht er sich bei Homer, wie in orientalischen Bereichen, als magisches Requisit und eigentliches Abzeichen der Herrscherwürde bemerkbar” (Laser 1968, 41). Besides the θρόνος, Hḗra here shares another quality with Zeus: the power/ability to shake Olumpos. The phrasing on 8.199 closely resembles the one used in the scene in which Zeus shakes Olumpos with a gesture of his head as a promise and guarantee (τέκμωρ) to Thetis in Il. 1.528–530: Ἦ καὶ κυανέῃσιν ἐπ’ ὀφρύσι νεῦσε Κρονίων·| ἀμβρόσιαι δ’ ἄρα χαῖται ἐπερρώσαντο ἄνακτος | κρατὸς ἀπ’ ἀθανάτοιο· μέγαν δ’ ἐλέλιξεν Ὄλυμπον, “Thus [spoke] the son of Krónos and he nodded with dark-blue eyebrows; | the immortal locks moved on the lord’s | immortal head; he shook great Olumpos.” Laser 1968, 38. Pritchett 1956, 217, commenting on the use of θρόνος for elaborate luxury chairs in rich Athenian households (where he accepts the meaning ‘chair of honour’), suggested a scenario whereby θρόνος “underwent a change and broadening of meaning in its ancient usage” that departed from its original (in this case, Homeric) sense as ‘seat of the ruler’. This scenario derives from the idea that θρόνος “belonged especially to gods and to princes”, although Pritchett notes that “it is not absolutely restricted to such persons” in the epic. Cf. also Sakellarakis 2006, 146 with references.

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to indicate the office of kingship, human or divine (Pr. 910, 912; Ch. 975). Similarly, Sophokles has Oidípous declaring his dominance over the land of Thebes thus: ἐγὼ κράτη τε καὶ θρόνους νέμω, “I hold/have the right to assign power and thrones” (OT 237); A king is described as ὃς νῦν σκῆπτρα καὶ θρόνους ἔχει, “he who now holds sceptres and thrones” (OC 425; the same meaning of θρόνοι, often along with σκῆπτρα appears in verses 367–368, 375–376, 448–449, 1293–1294, 1354; El. 267; Ant. 166: σέβοντας εἰδώς εὖ θρόνων κράτη, 1041: ἐς Διός θρόνους). Beyond tragedy, the same ‘narrow’ sense of θρόνος as a royal seat and its pairing with the sceptre may also appear in Pindar’s reference, in his 4th Pythian Ode (462 BCE terminus post quem, perhaps mid-5th century BCE) to σκᾶπτον μόναρχον καὶ θρόνος ‘royal scepter and throne’ as insignia of Aísōn’s (father of Iásōn) kingship (P. 4.152).72 It is beyond the scope of this paper to discuss this later use of θρόνος/θρόνοι further. Yet, this development had a lasting impact on the use of the term, even affecting the post-classical understanding of the Homeric references.73 The metonymic use of θρόνος (‘kingship’; ‘royal office’; ‘power of the sovereign’) that is first clearly attested in Greek during this period is still with us in the modern Greek use of θρόνος, as well as in the use of its adopted forms in other European languages. Epilogue: what was the name of Aegean thrones? Evidence of special seats that were occupied by rulers during the Late Bronze Age has been recovered from various major centres of the southern Aegean, both on Crete and on the Greek Mainland. Most of this material has been presented and discussed before.74 Although the term ‘throne’ is used for these in modern scholarship, we should not unquestionably accept that thórnos or thrónos referred to these chairs in the Late Bronze Age. The reason for this scepticism is the probability that such special installations would have required a special term; in this case, Mycenaean Greek thórnos without further modification would likely have been insufficient since the term could apparently refer to luxurious and elaborate chairs in general and not specifically to the chair of the ruler, that is, to the seemingly exceptional insigne dignitatis of a unique, central figure in Mycenaean palatial society. The formation and use of the adjective wa-na-ka-te-ro wanákteros, ‘pertaining to the wánaks’, seems to suggest that things associated with the ruler (the wánaks, ‘lord’) were perceived as different from things not personally attached to him, in compliance with a binary contrastive conceptual scheme implicit in the semantics of the suffix -teros.75 However, that the Mycenaean palatial throne was rendered as wa-na-ka-te-ro to-no wanákteros thórnos (just like wanákteros could apply to both animate and inanimate entities such as specialised craftsmen, cloth, or javelins) is no better than an informed conjecture. The possibility that the Mycenaean term for ‘throne’

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The course of the 5th century BCE might have been the point of this change. It is interesting that Herodotus (writing his histories c. 450–430 BCE) still needed to modify Midas’ throne offered at Delphi as θρόνον βασιλήιον (1.14.3), as if the word θρόνος without any adjective would not be sufficient to suggest an exclusively royal prerogative, thus implying that there would be a non-βασιλήιος θρόνος. Athenaeus (late 2nd/ early 3rd century AD; Deipnosophistae 5.192e–f) discusses Homeric references to the terms θρόνος, κλισμός and δίφρος and comments that these types refer to hierarchical divisions: ὁ γὰρ θρόνος αὐτὸς μόνον ἐλευθέριός ἐστιν καθέδρα σὺν ὑποποδίῳ […] ὁ δὲ κλισμὸς περιττοτέρως κεκόσμηται ἀνακλίσει. τούτων δ᾽ εὐτελέστερος ἦν ὁ δίφρος. ‘for the θρόνος taken by itself is a noble chair with a footstool […]. The κλισμός, on the other hand, is provided more lavishly with an inclined backrest. Poorer among them was the δίφρος.’ On classical θρόνοι as ‘chairs of honor’, see also Pritchett 1956, 217–220; Andrianou 2009, 88. Platon 1951; Mirié 1979, 70–74, pls.15–16; Rehak 1995b, 97–108. Although an updated discussion of the actual thrones, throne installations, and representations of thrones in the Late Bronze Aegean would be highly desirable, this cannot be accommodated here due to space limitations. For the Knossos throne, see: Tully ‒ Crooks, this volume. E.g. Palaima 1995, 134. See: Petrakis 2016, 68–70, Table 1 for a comprehensive presentation of all known attestations of wanákteros.

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was another term employed for seats, such as hédos (cf. Homeric ἕδος see above) or the presently unattested thóōkos (cf. Homeric θόωκος > θῶκος76) must also remain open.77 Appendix: Tentative transcriptions of entries on thórnoi and thrā́ nuwes in the Pylian inventory (Ta series) Here I briefly present the transcribed text and a brief translation78 of the entries of thórnoi and thrā́ nuwes recorded on the occasion of the appointment of a high official by the Pylian wánaks (the sovereign or ruler of the state), as reported on PY Ta 711.1. Discussion of this material is included here in the relevant section of the main text. a. Items possibly associated with thórnoi PY Ta 716.1 (first entry, left half of the line; transcription and translation below possible, but uncertain) pa-sa-ro , ku-ru-so , a-pi , to-ni-jo 2 psalō khrūsṓ amphithorníō 2 two chains vel sim. of gold on either side of a chair (?) 2 b. Sets (pairs) of thórnoi with thrā́nuwes PY Ta 714 First entry spreads over three lines, separated here with |; controversial mark after po-ni-ki-pi at the end of line .2 interpreted here as a divider. Blank area after the second ku-ru-so in line .2 is not noted in this transcription. .1–.3 to-no , we-a2-re-jo , a-ja-me-no , ku-wa-no , pa-ra-ku-we-qe , ku-ru-so-qe , o-pi-ke-remi-ni-ja | a-ja-me-na , ku-ru-so , a-di-ri-ja-pi , se-re-mo-ka-ra-o-re-qe , ku-ru-so , ku-ruso-qe , po-ni-ki-pi , | ku-wa-ni-jo-qe , po-ni-ki-pi 1

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Laser 1968, 34–35. It is, of course, possible that the specific term applied to the ‘throne’ of the ruler in the palatial culture of the Late Bronze Age did not survive in the post-Bronze Age Greek lexicon. A final comment must be reserved for the contrast between the underrepresentation of the image of the enthroned ruler in the Homeric epic and, on the one hand, the very existence of throne installations at Knossos (where the actual gypsum throne survived in situ), and the Greek Mainland (Tiryns, Pylos), and, on the other, the scarcity and problematic nature of the representations of enthroned figures in Aegean Bronze Age art. This is, however, a topic in which it would be unwise to merely dabble. It requires a comprehensive survey of the relevant archaeological material, which, although initially planned as part of an overall survey of Mycenaean thrones, must necessarily be presented elsewhere. The Linear B transcriptions follow Bennett et al. 2013, as well as personal autopsies of these documents in the National Archaeological Museum in Athens. Phonetic transcriptions follow Meier-Brügger 2008 (with modifications by the author) and the order of the documents follows Palaima 2000. I here accept that the instrumental singular endings concealed by the , and spellings are -ō -ā and -ē respectively, and suggest that certain cases of are orthographic and not phonological. indicates probable instances of separation (with a divider mark) of compound words by the ‘scribe’ of these records. Parts of transcriptions within [ ] corresponding to parts of phonetic readings in { } represent safe editorial corrections. Linear B sign-groups of uncertain phonetic interpretation are shown in these transcriptions and the translations with the Linear B spelling in italics. Two variants of the ‘footstool’ ideogram *220 (termed *220a and *220b in the Apparatus Criticus of the relevant tablets in Bennett et al. 2013) are not marked in the Linear B or the phonetic transcriptions. In this Appendix, descriptions of the item the ideogram refers to are given in small capitals in the translations only, where the presence or absence of legs from the ideogram is noted in each case. I accept all responsibility for all transcriptions and translations of the individual entries, which form part of a work in progress on the analysis of the structure and an overall interpretation of the Pylian Ta inventory. The tentative and preliminary character of these is again stressed.

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ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , ku-wa-no , pa-ra-ku-we-qe , ku-ru-so-qe , ku-ru-sa-pi-qe , ko-noni-pi 1

.1–.3 thórnos wehaléios aiaiménos kuwánō pa-ra-ku-wē-kwe khrūsṓ-kwe opikrḗmniai | aiaiménāi khrūsóis andriámphi seirēmokarāhórē-kwe khrūsṓ khrūsóis-kwe phóinikhphi | kuwaníois-kwe phóinikhphi 1 .3 thrā́ nus aiaiménos kuwánō pa-ra-ku-wē-kwe khrūsṓ-kwe khrūsā́ phi-kwe konōníphi 1 .1–.3 chair made of *wehalos inlaid with glass-paste, and with pa-ra-ku and with gold, back-pieces inlaid with gold human figures, and with gold siren(?)-heads, and with gold phoinikes and with phoinikes of glass-paste 1 .3 footstool inlaid with glass-paste and with pa-ra-ku and with gold, and with gold bands/ stripes(?) 1 PY Ta 708 .1 to-no , ku-te-se-jo , a-ja-me-no , o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja , e-re-pa-te 1 .2A to-no , ku-te-se-jo , e-re-pa-te-ja-pi , o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja-pi , se-re-mo-ka-ra-a-pi , qe-qino-me-na , a-di-ri-ja-pi-qe .2B ta-ra-nu , ku-te-se-jo , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , a-di-ri-ja-pi , re-wo-pi-qe 1 Erased entry in area following to the right of the written text in line .1:79 .1 ta-ra-nu-we, ku-te-se-jo , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi[ .1 thórnos kuteséios aiaiménos opikrḗmniai elephántē 1 thrā́ nus kuteséios aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi .2A thórnos kuteséios elephantéiāphi opikrēmníāphi seirēmokarā́ haphi qe-qi-no-ménai andriámphi-kwe .2B thrā́ nus kuteséios aiaiménos elephantéiois andriámphi léwomphi-kwe Erased .1

thrā́ nuwe[s] kuteséioi aiaiménoi elephantéiois au-de-phi [

.1

chair made of laburnum wood inlaid with ivory (in the) back-pieces 1 footstool made of laburnum wood, inlaid with ivory au-de .2A chair made of laburnum wood with ivory back-pieces, with siren heads that have been made qe-qi-no-tai with human figures .2B footstool made of laburnum wood inlaid with ivory human figures and with lions Erased .1

footstools made of laburnum wood inlaid with ivory au-de [

PY Ta 707 .a ku-te-jo .1 to-no , ku-ru-sa-pi , o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja-pi , o-ni-ti-ja-pi 1 ta-ra-nu-qe , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi 1 .2 to-no , ku-te-se-jo , e-re-pa-te-ja-pi , o-pi-ke-re-mi-ni-ja-pi , se-re-mo-ka-ra-o-re , qe-qino-me-na , a-di-ri-ja-te-qe , po-ti-pi-qe 1 .3 ta-ra-nu , ku-te-so , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi

79

See supra n. 25.

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.a kute{sé}ios .1 thórnos khrūsā́ phi opikrēmníāphi ornithíāphi 1 thrā́ nus-kwe aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi 1 .2 thórnos kuteséios elephantéiāphi opikrēmníāphi seirēmokarāhórē qe-qi-no-ménai andriántē-kwe pórthiphi-kwe 1 .3 thrā́ ́ nus kutésō aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi .a made of laburnum wood .1 chair with gold back-pieces, with birds 1 and footstool inlaid with ivory au-de 1 .2 chair made of laburnum wood with ivory back-pieces, with siren heads that have been made qe-qi-no-tai with a human figure and with calves 1 .3 footstool of laburnum inlaid with ivory au-de c. Single thrā́nuwes PY Ta 721 .1 .2 .3 .4 .5

ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi , to-qi-de-qe , ka-ru-we-qe *220 1 ta-ra-nu-we , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi , so-we-no-qe , to-qi-de-qe *220 3 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi , so-we-no-qe , *220 1 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi , so-we-no-qe , *220 1 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi *220 1

.1 .2 .3 .4 .5

thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi torkwídē-kwe ka-ru-wē-kwe *220 1 thrā́ nuwes aiaiménoi elephantéiois au-de-phi so-we-nō-kwe torkwídē-kwe *220 3 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi so-we-nō-kwe *220 1 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi so-we-nō-kwe *220 1 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi *220 1

.1 .2

footstool inlaid with ivory au-de and spiral and ka-ru footstool without legs 1 footstools inlaid with ivory au-de and with so-we-no and with spiral footstools without legs 3 footstool inlaid with ivory au-de and with so-we-no footstool without legs 1 footstool inlaid with ivory au-de and with so-we-no footstool without legs 1 footstool inlaid with ivory au-de footstool without legs 1

.3 .4 .5

PY Ta 722 .1 .2 .3

ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , a-to-ro-qo , i-qo-qe , po-ru-po-de-qe , po-ni-ke-qe *220 1 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , ka-ra-a-pi , re-wo-te-jo , so-we-noqe , *220 1 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-ja-pi , ka-ru-pi *220 1 ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pate-ja-pi , ka-ru-pi *220 1

.1 .2 .3 .3

thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiō anthrṓkwō íkwō-kwe pōlupódē-kwe phoiníkē-kwe *220 1 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiois karā́ happhi lewontéiois so-we-nō-kwe *220 1 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiāphi ka-ru-phi *220 1 thrā́ nus aiaiménos elephantéiāphi ka-ru-phi *220 1

.1

footstool inlaid with ivory human and with horse and with octopus and with phoiniks footstool with legs 1 footstool inlaid with ivory heads of lions and with so-we-no footstool without legs 1

.2

Mycenaean thórnoi, Homeric θρόνοι: Textual Perspectives

.3 .3

81

footstool inlaid with ivory ka-ru footstool without legs 1 footstool inlaid with ivory ka-ru footstool without legs 1

PY Ta 710 .1

ta-ra-nu , a-ja-me-no , e-re-pa-te-jo , au-de-pi , so-we-no-qe , *220 1

.1

thrā́nus aiaiménos elephantéiois au-de-phi so-we-nō-kwe *220 1

.1

footstool inlaid with ivory au-de and with so-we-no footstool without legs 1

Acknowledgements: This paper owes its presence here to the outstanding patience of the editors of this volume, Liat Naeh and Dana Brostowsky Gilboa. I feel deeply grateful to Elizabeth Simpson, Geoffrey Killen, and Dimitra Andrianou, whose collegiality and generosity of time and resources has been a constant source of support and encouragement in my study of ancient furniture. Discussions with the late Pierre Carlier and the late Yannis Sakellarakis have also triggered my interest in the topics discussed in this text. I am no less obliged to John Bennet, Christos Boulotis, Jack Davis, Emily Egan, Yannis Galanakis, Elina Kardamaki, Michael Lane, Joseph Maran, Michael Meier-Brügger, José L. Melena, Anna Michailidou, Dimitri Nakassis, Jean-Pierre Olivier, Brinna Otto, Tom Palaima, Diamantis Panagiotopoulos, Lefteris Platon, Elizabeth Shank, Elizabeth Simpson, Cynthia Shelmerdine, Naya Sgouritsa, Carlos Varias, and Melissa Vetters, for sharing their insights, advice, support, and offprints on various occasions. I am grateful to Andrew Miles Byrd and Daniel Kölligan for their advice on the etymology of thórnos. Tom Palaima, Jean-Pierre Olivier, Jan Driessen, and Melissa Vetters are also thanked for granting permissions to reproduce the images that accompany this text. Elizabeth Simpson and the two anonymous reviewers are warmly thanked for their helpful and constructive remarks on a previous draft of this chapter, and Irina Oryshkevich and Adrian Sackson for their excellent and patient editing of the text and Uriah Naeh for his help in processing Fig. 1. Last but not least, it is fair to say that the study whence the present paper stems could never have been fulfilled without the unfailing support of my wife, Alexandra Salichou, and our sons. I dedicate this ἀπαρχή to them, as they had to live with it during the hectic time of its preparation.

References Andrianou 2009 D. Andrianou, The Furniture and Furnishings of Greek Houses and Tombs (New York 2009). Aura Jorro 1985 F. Aura Jorro, Diccionario Micénico 1, Diccionario Griego – Español Anejo 1 (Madrid 1985). Aura Jorro 1993 F. Aura Jorro, Diccionario Micénico 2, Diccionario Griego – Español Anejo 2 (Madrid 1993). Beekes 2010 R. S. P. Beekes, Etymological Dictionary of Greek 1–2, Leiden Indo-European Etymological Dictionary Series 10, 1–2 (Leiden 2010). Beekes 2014 R. S. P. Beekes, Pre-Greek. Phonology, Morphology, Lexicon, Brill’s Introductions to Indo-European Languages 2 (Leiden 2014). Bennet 2014 J. Bennet, Linear B and Homer, in: Y. Duhoux ‒ A. Morpurgo Davies (eds.), A Companion to Linear B. Mycenaean Greek Texts and their World 3, Bibliothèque des Cahiers de L’Institute de Linguistique de Louvain 133 (Louvain-laNeuve 2014) 187–233. Bennett et al. 2013 E. L. Bennett Jr. ‒ J. L. Melena ‒ J.-P. Olivier ‒ R. J. Firth ‒ T. G. Palaima, The Palace of Nestor at Pylos in Western Messenia IV. The Inscribed Documents (Preliminary draft version dated November 2013). Online (last accessed 1 October 2019). Bryce 2002 T. Bryce, Life and Society in the Hittite World (Oxford 2002).

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Chadwick 1979 J. Chadwick, The use of Mycenaean documents as historical evidence, in: E. Risch ‒ H. Mühlestein (eds.), Colloquium Mycenaeum. Actes du Sixième Colloque International sur les Textes Mycéniens et Égéens tenu à Chaumont sur Neuchâtel du 7 au 13 septembre 1975, Recueil de travaux publiés par la Faculté de Lettres 36 (Geneva 1979) 21–33. Chantraine et al. 2009 P. Chantraine – J. Taillardat – O. Masson – J.-L. Perpillou – A. Blanc – C. de Lamberterie, Dictionnaire Étymologique de la Langue Grecque. Histoire des Mots (Paris 2009). Cook 2004 E. Cook, Near Eastern sources for the palace of Alkinoos, American Journal of Archaeology 108, 1, 2004, 43–77. de Lamberterie 2004 C. de Lamberterie, Sella, subsellium, meretrix. Sonantes-voyelles et ‘effet Saussure’ en grec ancien, in: J. H. W. Penney (ed.), Indo-European Perspectives. Studies in Honour of Anna Morpurgo Davies (Oxford 2004) 236–253. Driessen 2000 J. Driessen, The Scribes of the Room of the Chariot Tablets at Knossos. Interdisciplinary Approach to the Study of a Linear B Deposit, Suplementos a Minos 15 (Salamanca 2000). Eaton-Krauss 2008 M. Eaton-Krauss, The Thrones, Chairs, Stools, and Footstools from the Tomb of Tutankhamun (Oxford 2008). Evans 1935 A. J. Evans, The Palace of Minos. A Comparative Account of the Successive Stages of the Early Cretan Civilization as Illustrated by the Discoveries at Knossos Vol. 4, 2 (London 1935). Farmer ‒ Lane 2016 J. E. Farmer ‒ M. C. Lane, The ins and outs of the Great Megaron. Symbol, performance, and elite identities around and between Mycenaean palaces, Studi Micenei ed Egeo-Anatolici Nuova Serie 2, 2016, 41–79. Finley 1957 M. I. Finley, Homer and Mycenae. Property and tenure, Historia 6, 2, 1957, 133–159. Godart ‒ Olivier 1985 L. Godart ‒ J.-P. Olivier, Recueil des Inscriptions en Linéaire A Vol. 5, Études Crétoises 21, 5 (Paris 1985). Killen 1998 J. T. Killen, The Pylos Ta tablets revisited, in: F. Rougemont – J.-P. Olivier (eds.) Recherches récentes en épigraphie créto-mycénienne, Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique 122, 2, 1998, 421–422. Laser 1968 S. Laser, Hausrat, Archaeologia Homerica 2, P (Göttingen 1968). Meier-Brügger 2008 M. Meier-Brügger, Une lecture en langue mycénienne des textes de la série Ta de Pylos, in: A. Sacconi ‒ M. Del Freo ‒ L. Godart ‒ M. Negri, (eds.), Colloquium Romanum. Atti del XII Colloquio Internazionale di Micenologia, Roma, 20–25 Febbraio 2006 Vol. 2, Pasiphae 2 (Pisa, Roma 2008) 503–506. Mirié 1979 S. Mirié, Das Thronraumareal des Palastes von Knossos. Versuch einer Neuinterpretation seiner Entstehung und seiner Funktion, Saarbrücker Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 26 (Bonn 1979). Olivier ‒ Godart 1996 J.-P. Olivier ‒ L Godart (eds.), Corpus Hieroglyphicarum Inscriptionum Cretae. Études Crétoises 31 (Paris 1996). Palaima 1995 T. G. Palaima, The nature of the Mycenaean wanax. Non-Indo-European origins and priestly functions, in: Rehak 1995a, 119–139. Palaima 2000 T. G. Palaima, The Pylos Ta series from Michael Ventris to the new millennium, Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies 44, 2000, 236–237.

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Palaima 2016 T. G. Palaima, The ideology of the ruler in Mycenaean prehistory. Twenty years after the missing ruler, in: R. B. Koehl (ed.), Studies in Aegean Art and Culture. A New York Aegean Bronze Age Colloquium in Memory of Ellen N. Davis (Philadelphia 2016) 133–158. Petrakis 2002–2003 V. Petrakis, to-no-e-ke-te-ri-jo reconsidered, Minos 37–38, 2002–2003, 293–316. Petrakis 2016 V. Petrakis, Writing the wanax. Spelling peculiarities of Linear B wa-na-ka and their possible implications, Minos 39, 2016, 61–158, 407–410. Petrakis 2017 V. Petrakis, Figures of speech? Observations on the non-phonographic component in the Linear B writing system, in: M.-L. Nosch ‒ H. Landenius Enegren (eds.), Aegean Scripts. Proceedings of the 14th International Colloquium on Mycenaean Studies, Copenhagen, 2–5 September 2015, Incunabula Graeca 105 (Rome 2017) 127–167. Petrakis ‒ Petridis forthcoming V. Petrakis ‒ P. Petridis, The public setting, in: D. Andrianou (ed.), A Cultural History of Furniture in Antiquity (forthcoming). Petrakis et al. forthcoming V. Petrakis ‒ D. Andrianou ‒ I. Anagnostakis, Verbal representations, in: D. Andrianou (ed.), A Cultural History of Furniture in Antiquity (forthcoming). Pritchett 1956 W. K. Pritchett, The Attic stelai. Part II, Hesperia 25, 3, 1956, 178–317. Platon 1951 Ν. Πλάτων, Μινωικοί θρόνοι, Κρητικά Χρονικά 5, 1951, 385–412. Rehak 1995a P. Rehak (ed.), The Role of the Ruler in the Prehistoric Aegean. Proceedings of a Panel Discussion presented at the Annual Meeting of the Archaeological Institute of America, New Orleans, Louisiana, 28 December 1992, with Additions, Aegaeum 11 (Liège, Austin 1995). Rehak 1995b P. Rehak, Enthroned figures in Aegean art and the function of the Mycenaean megaron, in: Rehak 1995a, 95–118. Sacconi 1973 A. Sacconi, L’ideogramma *169 dei testi micenei, Studi Classici 15, 1973, 7–11. Sakellarakis 1996 Y. Sakellarakis, Mycenaean footstools, in: G. Herrmann (ed.) The Furniture of Western Asia. Ancient and Traditional. Papers of the Conference Held at the Institute of Archaeology, University College London, June 28 to 30, 1993 (Mainz 1996) 105–110. Sakellarakis 2006 Γ. Σακελλαράκης, Με αφορμή κάποια λείψανα επίπλων στο Ιδαίο Άντρο, in: Ε. Γαβριλάκη ‒ Γ. Ζ. Τζιφόπουλος (eds.), Ο Μυλοπόταμος από την Αρχαιότητα ως Σήμερα Vol. 3 (Rethymno 2006) 137–181. Salonen 1963 A. Salonen, Die Möbel des alten Mesopotamien nach sumerisch-akkadischen Quellen, Annales Academiae Scientiarum Fennicae B 127 (Helsinki 1963). de Saussure 1878 F. de Saussure, Mémoire sur le Système Primitif des Voyelles dans les Langues Indo-Européennes (Leipzig 1878). Shelmerdine 2012 C. W. Shelmerdine, Mycenaean furniture and vessels. Text and image, in: M.-L. Nosch ‒ R. Laffineur (eds.), Kosmos. Jewellery, Adornment and Textiles in the Aegean Bronze Age. Proceedings of the 13th International Aegean Conference, Danish National Research Foundation’s Centre for Textile Research, 21–26 April 2010, Aegaeum 33 (Leuven, Liège 2012) 685–695.

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Simpson 1995 E. Simpson, Furniture in ancient western Asia, in: J. M. Sasson ‒ J. Baines ‒ G. Beckman ‒ K. S. Rubinson (eds.), Civilizations of the Ancient Near East 3 (New York 1995) 1647–1671. Soysal 2008 O. Soysal, Philological contributions to Hattian-Hittite religion (I), Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religion 8, 1, 2008, 45–66. Starke 1979 F. Starke, Halmasuit im Anitta-Texte und die hethitische Ideologie vom Königtum, Zeitschrift für Assyriologie 69, 1979, 47–120. van Beek 2011 L. van Beek, The “Saussure effect” in Greek. A reinterpretation of the evidence, Journal of Indo-European Studies 39, 1–2 2011, 129–175. Vandenabeele ‒ Olivier 1979 F. Vandenabeele ‒ J.-P. Olivier, Les Idéogrammes Archéologiques du Linéaire B, Études Crétoises 24 (Paris 1979). Varias García 2008 C. Varias García, Observations on the Mycenaean vocabulary of furniture and vessels, in: A. Sacconi ‒ M. Del Freo ‒ L. Godart ‒ M. Negri, (eds.), Colloquium Romanum. Atti del XII Colloquio Internazionale di Micenologia, Roma, 20–25 Febbraio 2006 Vol. 2, Pasiphae 2 (Pisa, Roma 2008) 775–793. Vetters 2011 M. Vetters, Seats of power? Making the most of miniatures. The role of terracotta throne models in disseminating Mycenaean religious ideology, in: W. Gauß ‒ M. Lindblom ‒ R. A. K. Smith ‒ J. C. Wright (eds.), Our Cups Are Full. Pottery and Society in the Aegean Bronze Age. Papers Presented to Jeremy B. Rutter on the Occasion of his 65th Birthday (Oxford 2011) 319–330.

To Sit in Splendour: The Ivory Throne as an Agent of Identity in Tomb 79 from Salamis, Cyprus Christina Ruth Johnson 1 Abstract: The excellent preservation of the ivory-covered chair Γ from the 8th-century BCE Tomb 79 in Salamis calls for a deeper analysis of the object than scholarship has offered since its discovery in the 1960s. The decision to include this object (and the other burial goods) in this tomb – whether by the deceased himself or by those who buried him – projected a specific identity upon him. Various physical and aesthetic qualities of chair Γ would each have added a particular facet to this overall identity. In this paper, I will analyse five of these qualities, which I term ‘agentive mechanisms.’ These include the chair’s nature as a luxury object, its nature as a foreign object, its nature as an ivory object, its luminosity, and its iconography. These mechanisms would have been activated during a public funerary ritual, when the audience (likely the community at Salamis) would have viewed the chair in association with the deceased. As a foreign, luxury object, chair Γ gave the deceased social, political, and diplomatic legitimacy. Its ivory material drew its possessor into an elite circle of consumers of ivory objects – perhaps, specifically, of ivory chairs/thrones. The luminous nature of the ivory and its gold decoration may have associated the chair – and thus the deceased – with the sacred or divine, while the iconography of the ivory goods as a whole may have projected an identity of kingship. By way of these mechanisms, chair Γ was meant to agentively mark, and thus legitimize, the deceased as a socially significant, politically able, diplomatically savvy, divinely touched, king-like figure. The memory of this figure and the goods buried with him would have left a lasting impact on the community and perhaps helped create a legend of a powerful ancestor of a royal dynasty. Keywords: Salamis, chair, throne, identity, ivory, luminosity, luxury, ritual

The Early Iron Age objects discovered in Tomb 79 in the necropolis2 just west of the ancient city of Salamis, Cyprus, have garnered much attention since their discovery. The material from this tomb, however, needs an in-depth, object-by-object analysis that will lead to a greater understanding of the burial as a whole. Here, exemplifying one approach to such an analysis, I will present a case study of a single item from this burial – the ivory-covered wooden chair Γ.3 This type of examination of just one object from the tomb will provide insight into the intended purpose of the entire group of grave goods. I propose that the deceased from Tomb 79 and/or those (perhaps descendants) who buried him4 included chair Γ in the grave in order to create a particular identity for the deceased and, by extension, for those connected to him and still living; this object would have marked him as socially significant, politically able, diplomatically savvy, and divinely touched.5 The qualities of chair Γ marking the deceased as such include the chair’s nature as a luxury object, its nature as

1 2

3 4

5

MA graduate, University of Texas at Austin, USA, [email protected]. It is the largest necropolis from ancient Cyprus with burials from the Late Bronze Age through the 7th century AD. See: Karageorghis 1969, 16. This paper is taken from and further expounds upon my masters thesis. See: Johnson 2013. Based on the inclusion of chariots and (scant) weapons in the tomb, I will refer to the deceased as male. He may have been cremated, as evidenced by a pyre discovered just outside the tomb, which may or may not have been contemporaneous with the burial under discussion here. (Tomb 1 from the same necropolis also yielded evidence of a pyre.) See: Karageorghis 1973, 4. I will also discuss the Tomb 79 burial as if intended for a single individual, following Karageorghis’ example. Without more definitive skeletal findings, however, gender and number remain assumptions. For further reading on gender in Cypriot burials see: Bolger 2003, 147–182. The ability of an inanimate object to carry the action of ‘marking’ the deceased in this way comes from the theory of object agency. This theory postulates that certain inanimate objects are capable of becoming, in a way, animate, in so far as they have a seemingly autonomous effect/affect on a particular aspect of human society. (It is ultimately human action and/or interaction, of course, which allow objects to have agency in this way.) See: Gell 1998. Use of this theory has strong precedence in the field of Near Eastern art and archaeology. M. Feldman argues that the concept of agency should make up the tacit basis for the study of the social interaction of materials in the ancient Near East, while “a closer analysis of the mechanisms … by which objects produce social change” should be the focus; Feldman 2010, 151. See also: Winter 2007; Steadman – Ross 2010.

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a foreign object, its nature as an ivory object, its luminosity, and its iconography.6 I will refer to these qualities as ‘agentive mechanisms.’7 The visual effect of such an object and its association with the deceased during a funerary ritual would have left a lasting impact on local memory.8 Throne Γ Chair Γ was unearthed by V. Karageorghis and his team during excavations in Salamis in 1966.9 In his publication, Karageorghis labels this object as a ‘throne,’ no doubt because of its luxuriousness and discovery in a monumental tomb full of other equally rich burial goods. The term is problematic, however, because it projects an identity onto the deceased in Tomb 79 that may not have been intended by either him or those who buried him. The word ‘throne’ usually suggests royalty or even divinity: a seat intended to elevate – literally and/or metaphorically – the status of the one who sits upon it. Within this broad definition, however, may lie many nuances of meaning. As I do above, I will refer to it as a chair from here on in order to remove unproven assumptions about its nature, meaning or use.10 Chair Γ was found in Tomb 79, one of many tombs discovered by Karageorghis’ excavations in the necropolis of Salamis. With its rectangular chamber facing east, a large dromos, and a monolithic roof, the construction of Tomb 79, a monumental tomb built of ashlar masonry, fits the pattern of its neighbours.11 It contained the richest (extant) burial goods of any tomb excavated by Karageorghis’ team within the necropolis, though all of the goods discovered were in the dromos, as the chamber had been looted and filled in.12 The date of Tomb 79 is the subject of debate; some scholars (including Karageorghis) argue for one closer to 700 BCE, while others propose an earlier date, closer to 750 BCE.13 D. Rupp, who supports the mid-century date,14 also proposes that the city-kingdoms of Cyprus began to establish themselves at this time. Perhaps, as Rupp suggests, the rich burial in Tomb 79 belonged to one of these early territorial monarchies on Cyprus. It could have served as a conspicuous symbol of power and authority in an attempt to legitimize the position and power of the new monarchy at Salamis.15 My own conclusions support this possibility.

6

7 8 9 10

11 12 13

14

15

Acknowledging that more than these five may exist. The comprehension of these qualities and the way in which they marked the deceased would have been augmented by association with the other burial goods in the tomb, though an in-depth consideration of them is beyond the scope of this paper. To borrow terminology from Feldman. See: footnote 5 above. See discussion of funerary ritual below. Karageorghis 1973, 4. I suggest that this is becoming common practice among scholars discussing this object, a practice already begun by others such as M. Feldman and L. Naeh. Karageorghis 1973, 6. The maximum height of the tomb chamber is 180cm. Karageorghis 1973, 2, 4. Karageorghis dates the Tomb 79 burial to ca. 700 BCE using E. Gjerstad’s system of pottery classification for the pottery found at the site. Although he acknowledges revisions to Gjerstad’s system, which pushes the start date for the Cypro-Archaic period earlier, Karageorghis seems to ignore the shift. He further supports the 700 BCE date by taking the date given to ivories discovered at Nimrud that share qualities with the Tomb 79 ivories – ca. 750–725 BCE – and adding an arbitrary cushion of 25 years to allow time between manufacture and burial, thereby arriving at ca. 700 BCE. See: Karageorghis 1973, 121. Rupp recognizes the faults in Gjerstad’s dating system, refers to the revisions of said system, and does not add an arbitrary cushion of twenty-five years. All this results in a date closer to the middle than the end of the 8th century BCE. See: Rupp 1988, 112, 116–117. Rupp 1987, 156. Welkamp and de Geus agree that Tomb 79 was likely that of the first monarch of Salamis. See: Welkamp – de Geus 1998, 98.

To Sit in Splendour

Fig. 1   Chair Γ, reconstructed (after Karageorghis 1973, pl. LXI, no. 518; by permission of the Department of Antiquities, Cyprus)

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Fig. 2   Reconstructed ivory throne, H. 88.5 cm, Salamis (after Feldman 2014, pl. 16; drawing by Uriah Naeh)

Chair Γ was discovered in the northwest corner of the dromos – possibly pushed back here by a slightly later second burial.16 While the wooden under-structure had long since disintegrated, the ivory plaques decorating its surface remained in place in the soil, maintaining the overall shape of the original chair.17 Due to their excellent state of preservation, Karageorghis’ reconstruction is a confident one. The chair has four legs with armrests and a slightly curved backrest; four stretchers connect the legs. The feet of the chair are missing and also perhaps the upward extensions of the backrest’s sidepieces. The team reconstructed the feet, but did not add terminals to the backrest (Fig. 1).18 Chair Γ (as extant and reconstructed) is life-size (Fig. 2). Its overall height to the top of the backrest is 88.5cm. The backrest rises 19cm above the top of the armrests.19 Terminals (if there were any) would, of course, have risen higher. The seat is 58.5cm wide and 49cm deep.20 Ivory

16

17

18

19 20

Karageorghis’ analysis of the tomb findings led him to declare that a second burial had occurred within Tomb 79 not long after the first. He proposes that the goods from the first burial, including chair Γ, were pushed aside to make way for the second. His argument is based on differences in soil texture. The material from the first burial lined the two sides of the dromos, while the material from the second burial was placed in a secondary and narrower dromos dug down the centre of the original (between the two groups of material from the first burial). A similar reuse of the dromos occurred in Tomb 47. See: Karageorghis 1973, 10. Other disturbances to the dromos of Tomb 79 occurred during the Roman period. See: Karageorghis 1973, 5. Despite this evidence for a secondary burial, the fact remains that chair Γ’s find-spot may have been the original location of the chair during the funerary ritual for the first burial. Karageorghis’ excavation report does not mention any scientific identification of the species of the original wood understructure. Karageorghis 1973, 11, 87. Although some of Karagheorgis’s reconstructions are now suspect (see note 81 regarding the bed), this object was so well preserved that I will not question the accuracy of his reconstruction save with regard to the openwork plaques discussed below. If I, as a 1.7m-tall woman, sat in the chair, its backrest would rise to just under my shoulder blades. As stated, the extant height up the back legs to the top of the backrest is 88.5cm. Karageorghis does not specify whether these dimensions do or do not include his arbitrarily reconstructed feet, though I would assume not. The height up the front legs to the top of the armrests is 69.5cm. The arms are 48cm long. See: Karageorghis 1973, 87. A recent find at Tel Rehov of a small, ivory model of an enthroned figure from the 9th century BCE depicts a chair that – albeit in miniature – is almost identical to the life-size chair Γ. The small chair does have extensions rising above the backrest (though only one is preserved). See: Naeh 2015, fig. 6; Mazar – Panitz-Cohen in press.

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plaques overlay the entirety of the chair except on a few areas of the backrest, where sections of wood were left showing through as part of the design. The ivory on the backrest was not overlaid like the rest but inlaid flush with the exposed wood. The ivory panels alternating with the wooden sections bear repeating patterns of floral and geometric decoration, while the top bar of the backrest was originally overlaid with gold and bore a subtle scale pattern (Fig. 3).21 Although the main structure of the chair was wooden, it would have appeared to be Fig. 3   Illustration of the backrest of chair Γ (after Karageorghis 1973, pl. CCXL; by permission of the Department a solid ivory object, accented with gold and of Antiquities, Cyprus) wood and textured with delicate carving.22 Karageorghis’ reconstruction also places two beautifully carved, inlaid, openwork ivory plaques – one depicting a stylized plant, the other a sphinx – beneath the armrests of the chair.23 Based on a close comparison of the find-spots of the plaques to that of chair Γ as well as a recent study by Feldman on the craftsmanship of the plaques as compared to that of the chair,24 it appears quite definitive that the plaques do not belong to the chair. Perhaps originally part of a larger set of plaques, they may have been individual additions to the burial, removed Fig. 4   Openwork ivory plaque from Tomb 79 depicting a from or never actually attached to a piece of ‘palette tree’ (after Karageorghis 1973, pl. LXIII, no. 143; by furniture (Fig. 4).25 permission of the Department of Antiquities, Cyprus) Before addressing the agentive mechanisms, we must acknowledge that the deceased for whom the burial in Tomb 79 was created may not have been the one who chose the objects buried with him. It is just as likely that the living, perhaps his descendants, curated the burial goods for him after he died. Another possible scenario to consider is that chair Γ was inherited by the deceased. However, even if the deceased did not directly acquire, receive, commission, or choose to include chair Γ, it was part of his tomb and therefore all aspects of identity agentively conferred by the chair were conferred on him.

21 22 23 24

25

Karageorghis 1973, 87–88. The enthroned figurine from Tel Rehov is made of solid ivory. See: Naeh 2015, 85–88, especially note 14. Karageorghis 1973, 87. The two plaques were found on the floor of the dromos in seemingly random positions, neither together nor near enough to the chair to have simply dropped off. Additionally, the high quality cloisonné construction of the plaques does not match that of the glue-applied decorations on the backrest of the chair. Neither do the qualities of the ivory itself match. See: Feldman 2014, 156–157. Welkamp – de Geus 1998, 89; Herrmann – Millard 2003, 394, note 8. These authors suggest that due to the elegant way in which these two plaques juxtapose, they were part of an original, larger group of plaques that would have included two heraldic sets of three plaques apiece: two striding sphinxes flanking a single stylized plant.

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A Luxury Object The first agentive mechanism of chair Γ to be addressed here is its nature as a luxury object, which marks the deceased with whom it was buried as socially significant. There is no doubt that chair Γ in its final decorated state was a luxury object. Each element that composed it –ivory, gold, even the wood, depending on its type26 – was itself a luxury material. Winter defines a luxury object as one: that has either been made of a particular material or ‘embellished’ with particular decoration, such that the cost in time, energy and/or materials is greater than that required for the purely utilitarian function of the object.27 This cost, in the case of ivory and gold (and certain woods), comes from the materials’ relative rarity in terms of availability and/or difficulty of acquisition. The material must also be skilfully carved or worked into a final product. A hypothetical chronology for a piece of ivory might include, at the very least, hunting the animal (elephant or other), harvesting the ivory, perhaps importing/exporting it, carving it, and then distributing it. Once acquired, such a luxury good projected its value (its cost) onto the one who possessed it.28 The possession of a luxury item demonstrated that the possessor had the ability in terms of wealth, status, and/or power to acquire it. In other words, chair Γ marks the deceased in Tomb 79 as someone of elite social status or significance.29 A Foreign Object Chair Γ was furthermore a foreign luxury object, a separate but connected quality that acts as another agentive mechanism, identifying the deceased as both politically and diplomatically able. Recent scholarship has debated whether or not the Tomb 79 ivories were local creations or imports. S. Janes argues that all of them, including chair Γ, were completely local productions.30 Feldman agrees that chair Γ was a local creation, based on its “lower-grade” ivory and the fact that it was applied with adhesive (which allowed smaller pieces of ivory to be used to create the impression of larger sections), but that the two openwork plaques, with their higher quality ivory and technique, were more ‘standard’ creations, by which she seems to suggest that they were imports.31 Even if chair Γ was constructed locally, which seems highly possible, it would still have performed as a foreign object for three reasons. First, and most compellingly, the chair was decorated with a foreign material: ivory. From a Cypriot perspective, ivory would by nature have been foreign, since the only sources of raw ivory were Africa or India.32 At some point in the life of the ivory on chair Γ, it was imported as raw material from one of these locales. Then it was carved –

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The most likely possibilities for the original wood understructure are either boxwood or ebony, which are described in the Assyrian annals multiple times as the materials used for luxurious furniture in the Ancient Near East at this time. See: Moorey 1999, 347–361. The creamy colour of the wood that Karageorghis used in his reconstruction of the chair suggests that he had boxwood in mind. Winter 1988, 195. Helms 1993, 136. This projected identity is further enhanced by the luxury nature of the other goods included in the burial with chair Γ. These include two other badly preserved chairs (one decorated in ivory, the other in silver) with two accompanying footstools, a bronze cauldron, chariots, and equestrian equipment. See: Karageorghis 1973. Another point in favour of elite status is the fact that the deceased and/or those who buried him could afford to bury such a valuable object. Janes 2010, 139. Feldman 2014, 155–159. By this time, the Syrian elephant had become extinct. See: Collon 1977, 219–222; Barnett 1982, 7, 41; Moorey 1999, 116–9. For Bronze Age sources of ivory see: Caubet 2008, 406–407, 412; for a discussion of Iron Age ivory trade see: Aruz 2014, 120–124.

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where, we do not know. Was it both carved and applied to the chair locally on Cyprus? Or was it carved outside of Cyprus, then imported, and then applied by local craftsmen? We cannot answer these questions, but we must acknowledge that importation did occur at some point in the ivory’s history, and that the chair’s Cypriot audience would have been aware of this. Furthermore, this audience may not have recognized in the final product the differences between all of these nuances of importation and imitation. As a seemingly solid ivory object, the material’s foreign nature would have dominated. Second, the form of chair Γ is almost identical to that of a chair in a small model of an enthroned figure from Tel Rehov in Israel. The model comes from a 9th century context, earlier than that of the Tomb 79 burial.33 This suggests (though cannot be proven without a larger set of data) that this style of chair may have been transferred from the Levant to Cyprus, making not only the ivory decoration, but also the shape of the chair underneath it foreign. Third, we approach the thorny issue of ivory style. In his original publication, Karageorghis identified the ivories in Tomb 79 as Phoenician, which many later scholars agreed with, based especially on the high quality and elegant carving of the two openwork plaques and their strong resemblance to the Levantine ivories recovered from Assyrian Nimrud that have been designated as Phoenician.34 However, in recent years, scholars have rightly begun dismantling the traditional method of classifying ivories into style groups based on restrictive, geographically- and ethnically-based workshops.35 Instead, as Feldman proposes, differences in style should be viewed as the “result of shared practices that can extend or contract across time and space,” produced by “multiple intersecting and overlapping networks of skilled artistic practices.”36 The result is a view of style that is less strict, with shifting boundaries, and thus more difficult to determine. Feldman therefore calls scholars to focus their attention less on style and production and more on consumption, which I shall address further below. For the purposes of this paper, it is enough to recognize that the ivories in Tomb 79 are Levantine in style.37 With the foreign nature of chair Γ attested, we can apply to this case study M. Helms’s theory that the success of an elite or influential person – here, the deceased – is determined by their ability to “be informed about, understand, manipulate, and ultimately acquire socially desirable things” from distant cultural and political centres.38 Helms argues that valuable goods derived from these distant centres bring back power from them and act as links to them, which confers political legitimacy on the acquirer.39 Each item of a foreign nature in Tomb 79, including chair Γ, would therefore have functioned as one of these acquired goods, linking the deceased to a foreign

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Naeh 2015, 85–88; Mazar – Panitz-Cohen in press. Karageorghis 1973, 91–95; Mallowan – Hermann 1974, 59; Welkamp – de Geus 1998, 95; Aruz 2014, 120–121, figs. 3.7 and 3.8. Herrmann describes Phoenician-style ivories as “immensely sophisticated. They exhibit a sense of space and balance, with elegant designs, inspired by the art of Egypt. Violence is eschewed … Many of the ivories were jewel-like, with colour achieved by finely shaped glass inlays within cloisons covered in gold foil. Ivories were used in sets of similar pieces, sometimes with single figures, but usually with pairs of opposed figures.” See: Herrmann et al. 2008, 115. The two openwork plaques from Tomb 79 are paragons of this description with their elegant proportions, coloured inlays, and gilding. Feldman 2014; Suter 2015. Suter writes: “The model of isolated local workshops … is neither supported by the socio-political landscape of the time nor by the material itself … The simplistic model of one local style per state or city must be abandoned.” See: Suter 2015, 39. Suter 2015, 41, succinctly summarizing ideas from Feldman 2014. From here on, I will avoid labelling them ‘Phoenician’ and simply, more broadly, refer to them as Levantine. Other evidence casting doubt on the Phoenician designation is the fact that there is now ample evidence from Samaria (as well as other Levantine sites) that the ivories discovered there – long labelled Phoenician and comparable to both the Nimrud ivories and the Tomb 79 ivories – were in fact local Israelite creations. See: Uehlinger 2005; Suter 2010, 993, 997–998; Naeh 2015. See also discussion of ivory from Levantine sites below. Helms 1993, 161. Helms 1993, 9, 192–193, 198.

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centre of power – in this case, specifically to the Levant.40 Even if chair Γ were a local imitation and not a genuine import, it would still have functioned as a legitimizing link, since a semblance of acquisition would have occurred through mimicry.41 Again, the audience of chair Γ may not have recognized the difference between importation and imitation. The inclusion of chair Γ in the burial, therefore, was a calculated move to legitimize (or give the appearance of legitimizing) the deceased’s ability to interact successfully – politically and diplomatically – with powerful, foreign neighbours.42 An Ivory Object The third agentive mechanism of chair Γ to be discussed here is its nature as an ivory object,43 which is tightly linked to the qualities of luxury and foreignness. This is a broad topic with many avenues of approach for analysis. I will first consider attitudes toward ivory at this time based on its apparent use as determined by archaeological context and textual evidence. Since evidence for the use of ivory in Cyprus beyond Salamis is slim for this period, we must look to foreign cultures. This is entirely appropriate for this case study as chair Γ was derived through importation or the imitation of a Levantine source, and Levantine attitudes toward ivory may have spread to Cyprus as well.44 Of course, the majority of Levantine ivories have been discovered in secondary contexts within the Neo-Assyrian Empire. These were found almost entirely in storerooms and seem never to have been put to actual utilitarian or ritual use by the Assyrians.45 The purpose they served for the Assyrians, who took them either as tribute or loot, was obviously quite different from the one that they served in the Levant. Unfortunately, an in-depth look at attitudes towards and the use of ivory in Assyria lies beyond the scope of this paper.46 However, the Assyrians did have their own unique style of ivory carving.47 Plaques carved in this Assyrian style have been found most

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The other major power at this time in the Ancient Near East was the Assyrian Empire. Direct, continuous contact between Cyprus and Assyria at this time was unlikely, since the first documented contact with the empire occurred at the very end of the 8th century BCE, decades after the proposed date for Tomb 79; even then, evidence does not support a direct Assyrian presence on the island. This perhaps made Assyria an even more distant, perhaps more extraordinary, or even the ultimate, foreign centre as compared to closer places like the Levant, which may have mediated interactions between Assyria and Cyprus. The Phoenicians of Tyre certainly had direct and lasting contact with Cyprus during the Early Iron Age, specifically through trade in copper. See: Reyes 1994, 49–58; Gunter 2009, 27–28; Aruz 2014, 113–114. Helms 1993, 196. Feldman suggests another possible scenario of foreign interaction that involves the deceased as a receiver of a gift from the Assyrian Empire. See: Feldman 2014, 160. If an Assyrian ruler gave the Tomb 79 ivories as a diplomatic gift, they would still have conferred political legitimacy onto the deceased. In this case, the legitimacy may have been even stronger, as it came from the hegemonic power in the eastern Mediterranean at the time. As stated, chair Γ was crafted to give the impression of being made entirely of ivory (with a few wooden accents). It must be acknowledged that attitudes toward or use of ivory in the Levant may have changed once it shifted to a local, Cypriot context, but it is difficult to ascertain in what ways, if any, this may have occurred. It is not inconceivable that many ideas remained the same. The curators of Tomb 79 may even have appropriated Levantine ideas purposefully in order to further connect the deceased with this major foreign power. Hermann et al. 2008, 114; Thomason 2005, 125. A basic overview can be found in the thesis from which this paper stems. See: Johnson 2013, 36–52. By taking but not using the Levantine ivories, the Assyrian rulers stripped away symbols of their Levantine subjects’ elite status. See: Suter 2011, 224. Recently, Feldman offered a reassessment of the Assyrian attitude toward Levantine ivory. By neither using Levantine ivory nor incorporating its style into their own, the Assyrians “effectively [dealt] with the paradox of needing to destroy the Other yet maintain the memory of both the destruction itself and the object of destruction – thereby reinforcing both the boundaries of the Assyrian courtly elite and their exclusivity vis-à-vis their neighbors.” See: Feldman 2014, 96. These ivories are incised rather than carved in relief, and their iconography and formal qualities often differ visibly from the Levantine examples. Taken together with the Levantine ivories, the Assyrian style ivories comprise only about 5% of the total ivory material recovered from Nimrud. See: Herrmann et al. 2008, 102, 113.

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conspicuously in ceremonial areas48 – next to a throne base in the North West Palace at Nimrud, for example – thereby suggesting that they once graced a throne or corollary item.49 Almost no ivories were found in the incredibly rich tombs associated with the North West Palace.50 Due to the small number of ivory objects discovered, G. Herrmann and A. Millard propose that the Assyrians preferred other luxury materials.51 Attitudes toward ivory appear to be quite different in the Levant itself, as can be expected from the massive amounts of carved ivory objects produced there. Archaeological evidence for Levantine ivory in actual Levantine contexts is scant, but our understanding of it has grown in recent years. The cache of ivories discovered in Samaria, the capital of Israel in the 9th and 8th centuries BCE, is the largest ever found of Levantine ivories in the Levant, yet it contains only remnants of an original, even more magnificent collection looted by Shalmaneser V of Assyria.52 The original corpus of Samarian ivories may have been part of the massive collection of Levantine ivories in Nimrud.53 Until recently, most scholars considered all of the ivories found at Samaria to be Phoenician imports, but Suter contends that the rulers of Samaria, specifically the Omrides, had the wealth and means to host their own, local production.54 This claim is bolstered by evidence of local use and even local production of ivory from other Levantine sites. Tel Rehov, as already discussed, provided a 9th-century BCE ivory model of an enthroned figure, found near elite, religious buildings, that is comparable to chair Γ.55 At Zincirli in southern Turkey, ivories dated to the 8th century BCE have been discovered in bit hilani structures (reception halls), a storage building, and an office area. Many of these once decorated furniture such as chairs, footstools, beds or tables.56 Ivories from the same period have also been found in Hamah in Syria, mostly in rooms in the main citadel, including a bit hilani structure that contained evidence that ivory-covered furniture was in use at the time of its destruction. A small number of ivories have also been found in burials that may or may not have belonged to higher status elite persons.57 Tel Halaf, also in Syria, has provided a greater number of ivories in an elite (perhaps royal) funerary context, dating from the 9th century BCE.58 Finally, Jerusalem also offers compelling evidence of local Levantine workshops in fragments of woodcarving that are very similar to ivory fragments from Samaria. These wooden pieces participate in the same ‘artistic milieu’ as do the ivories, albeit in a less expensive material.59 In summary, based on the types of furniture (chairs, beds, tables, etc.) suggested by ivory items, ivories in the Levant appear to have been used in specifically elite contexts, in reception areas, perhaps for banquets, as well as in burials. Within burials, the “ivories do not appear alone, but rather with larger assemblages of generally equally

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Barnett 1982, 40–41. Herrmann et al. 2008, 36–37. Oates – Oates 2001, 78–90. See: also Herrmann – Millard 2003, 388–390; Herrmann et al. 2008, 114. A change occurred between the Bronze and Iron Ages in terms of ivory found in burials. Bronze-Age Ashur included many ivory items in its elite burials, but Neo-Assyrian burials, even the Royal Tombs from the North West Palace, conspicuously did not include ivory. Only a mirror handle with inlaid strips of ivory and maybe a Syrian ivory of poor quality have been found in them. Herrmann – Millard 2003, 398. Suter 2010, 993–994. The original publication of the Samaria ivories did not include the full corpus of ivory finds, as most were very small fragments. See: Crowfoot – Crowfoot 1938. Suter estimates the total number of ivory fragments at about 12,000 pieces. See: Suter 2015, 31. Suter 2011, 221. Suter 2010, 993, 997–998. Other scholars agree. See: Uehlinger 2005; Naeh 2015. Naeh 2015, 85–88. Mazar and Panitz-Cohen suggest that the Tel Rehov ivory model was made in a local Israelite workshop. See: Mazar – Panitz-Cohen in press. Feldman 2015, 99–101 and references. Feldman 2015, 101–105 and references. Feldman 2015, 105–107 and references. Naeh 2015, 83–85. The carved fragments were of boxwood, the same wood that may have been used for the original structure of chair Γ. The boxwood was likely imported to Jerusalem and then carved locally.

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valuable materials such as gold.”60 With these words, Feldman could just as easily be describing the Tomb 79 burial. The main textual evidence for the use of ivory in the Levant comes from the Hebrew Bible, which mentions the use of ivory furniture, though sometimes in a derogatory manner, associating such luxury with immorality. For instance, the Book of Amos condemns the lavish buildings and ivory couches of the 9th-century BCE court of the Israelite King Ahab, who was married to Jezebel, a Phoenician princess.61 Conversely, 1 Kings heralds ivory as a material befitting a king, as in its description of the magnificent throne of Solomon.62 Taking both the Levant and Assyria into account, we recognize, at the very least, an elite tradition of owning and/or procuring ivory-decorated furniture in the ancient Near East at the time of the burial in Tomb 79, regardless of the exact use of the furniture once it was procured. In the Levant specifically, ivory clearly held great value as a material object, since it was put to conspicuous use on furniture in the residences of elites (even in the face of disapproving prophets), including the decoration of thrones of the most revered of kings, and in elite burials. Even if the Assyrians did not use ivory to the same extent as did their Levantine subjects, there is still evidence of ivory-decorated furniture (a throne?) executed in their own unique style in a royal palace, though no ivories were included in their burials. The types of ivory furniture in Tomb 79,63 as well as the fact that they were included in a burial, give them more in common with the ivories used in the Levant, as can be expected from their stylistic inspiration. The major difference between them, at least with regard to extant Levantine examples, lies in the largeness and coherent nature of the furniture in the burial at Salamis.64 The ivories included in the funerary offerings at Tel Halaf, for example, consist of small inlays for a box, mirror handles or other small objects.65 Why did the curators of Tomb 79 find it necessary to include complete pieces of furniture in the burial? This question leads us to the tantalizing idea that the furniture in the burial had once been put to use in life, perhaps in that of the deceased buried with it. Including furniture that had been used in life in the burial of the deceased would have served as a reminder that he had participated in an elite culture of using ivory-decorated furniture, shared with the powers to the east.66 Luminosity The penultimate agentive mechanism to be discussed in this case study in many ways continues the above analysis of ivory. Most discussions on ancient ivories centre on issues of style, technique, iconography, and use; not enough scholarship has been dedicated to understanding ivory as a basic material with particular attributes. One such attribute, which I suggest functions as a major agentive mechanism of chair Γ, is luminosity. For ivory, the most obvious of its physical or aesthetic qualities are its creamy colour and smooth, reflective texture when polished, which together give the material a lovely, luminous appearance. On chair Γ, this quality was further enhanced by the gold that adorned the top of

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Feldman 2015, 107–108. Amos 3:15 and 6:4. 1 Kings 10:18–20 (NIV): “Then the king made a great throne covered with ivory and overlaid with fine gold. The throne had six steps, and its back had a rounded top. On both sides of the seat were armrests, with a lion standing beside each of them. Twelve lions stood on the six steps, one at either end of each step. Nothing like it had ever been made for any other kingdom.” Which includes chairs, a footstool, and a hypothetically reconstructed bed (see note 81). Another burial that included full pieces of furniture on an extravagant level is Tumulus MM at Gordion, the capital of ancient Phrygia in Anatolia, which dates to circa 740 BCE – contemporary with the first burial in Tomb 79. The highly decorated furniture here was crafted entirely of wood. Perhaps similar ideas underpinned the inclusion of coherent furniture in both burials. See: Simpson 2010. Feldman 2015, 105–106. The specific use of furniture in the funerary ritual will be addressed below.

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the chair’s backrest, which would have been even more luminous and reflective than the ivory.67 Evidence from Mesopotamia and the Levant suggests that such luminous qualities could be interpreted as marks of the sacred or divine. Whether the deceased actually sat on the chair or was merely associated with it through its inclusion in his burial, its luminosity could have marked him as divinely touched or at the very least as an elite possessor of a sacred object.68 In ancient Mesopotamia, according to textual sources, luminosity was generally associated with holiness, ritual purity, and the sacred. White light in particular was viewed as the manifestation of a divine force.69 Kings would intentionally decorate a sacred item, such as a temple, with shiny embellishments to physically and visually evoke this sense of the sacred.70 Beyond the qualities of light in general, a more specific type of light was alternately referred to by a variety of related words, such as ‘radiance,’ ‘awe,’ ‘splendour’ or ‘aura.’ This more specific light was attributed to the gods, but also extended to rulers, temples, and powerful objects.71 In other words, this light ultimately received its agency from divine powers but could be physically attached, aura-like, to a person or thing connected to the divine. In certain contexts, the impact of viewing this aura would evoke in the viewer an emotional response of overwhelming awe, dread, or even terror.72 An example from the Levant lies in T. Ornan’s reading of a bronze statue from Hazor in Israel. The statue depicts an enthroned figure, made in the mid-18th or 17th century BCE but used until the 13th century (when it was buried), which wears the headgear and dress of a king and was originally gilded.73 According to Mesopotamian ideas of luminosity, as put forward by Winter with regard to Levantine objects, adding gold to the image of an earthly king likened his figure to a divine one.74 Levantine images of deities were cast in or coated with precious metals, and Levantine literature describes objects associated with gods as shining.75 One text specifically mentions cast bronze furniture – including a throne, footstool, and couch – as being coated with gold, silver, or electrum and meant for the gods.76 In Hazor there is evidence of earthly, royal use of the same types of furniture – specifically a throne and footstool – during the Late Bronze Age. As Ornan writes, “The employment of the same type of elite Levantine furniture in both royal and divine spheres stresses the shared need for luxurious artefacts, the most prominent of which were made with precious metals, by gods and kings alike.”77 We cannot say whether or not the ivory of chair Γ evoked the specific Mesopotamian ideas of white light or the more emotionally affecting divine aura. It is more compelling to compare chair Γ and the other ivory furniture in Tomb 79 to the gold- and silver-plated furniture of the Levantine gods, mimicked by their royal, earthly counterparts in Hazor. There is no doubt that chair Γ,

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Without knowing the exact species of wood used for the structure of the chair, which was allowed to show through in places on the backrest, we cannot say how this exposed wood would have played a part in the object’s luminous appearance. If boxwood was used, its creamy colour would certainly have complemented the creaminess of the ivory. Because ivory and gold were also used for non-sacred objects (such as ivory-handled mirrors and gold jewellery), this comprehension of luminosity would have occurred only in specific contexts. A funerary context, already set apart from the mundane world, would have been just the right type of setting for such special comprehension. Ivory and gold would not have been the only luminous materials employed to evoke this comprehension. The silver-inlaid chair also found in Tomb 79 could have performed in this way as well. Winter 1994, 123–124. Esarhaddon lined the walls of cult places with precious metals “and so made them shine like the day.” See: Winter 1994, 124. Winter 1994, 125–126. Winter focuses on the concept of melam/melammu, which she prefers to translate as ‘aura’. Winter 1994, 125. Ornan 2012, 445–446. Ornan 2012, 448, 450. Ornan specifically references statues of deities from Ugarit cast in silver and partly gilded. Her textual example comes from a hymn to Ba’al that describes his horn as ‘shining.’ See: Ornan 2012, 448 and references. This text comes from the Ba’al Cycle describing gifts made for Ashera. See: Ornan 2012, 448 and references. Ornan 2012, 449.

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with its creamy, polished ivory, was luminous. The addition of a layer of gold along the top of the backrest would have further augmented this aesthetic effect. If the connection between luminosity and the divine did indeed pass from the Bronze Age to the Iron Age and from the Levant (or even Mesopotamia) to Cyprus, chair Γ would almost assuredly have taken on a sacred or divine aspect.78 As the possessor of a luminous, sacred, perhaps divinely-touched chair, the deceased from Tomb 79 would have been identified as a person with access to the sacred or even as a divinelytouched figure himself.79 Iconography I wish to end my discussion of the agentive mechanisms of chair Γ with a discussion of iconography. The iconography of chair Γ appears solely on the backrest and includes three separate designs. The first is a double-guilloche pattern decorating the seven central vertical strips (separated by vertical sections, where the wood was originally allowed to show through). The second is a stylized floral pattern decorating two horizontal strips along the base (also separated by a single horizontal strip of exposed wood). The pattern alternates between a larger form with three petals and a smaller one with five petals. The third is a subtle scale pattern along the gilded top bar (Fig. 3).80 Such simple motifs, so pervasive across the ancient Mediterranean world, are difficult to analyse due to the potential variety of meaning connected with them. Also – as with the other mechanisms of chair Γ, but perhaps to a stronger degree – the chair’s iconography cannot be fully comprehended without also addressing the iconography of the other objects in the burial. These were curated as a whole, most likely intended to complement each other, and should thus be analysed as a group. An in-depth analysis of each object, following the method demonstrated in this paper, is fodder for future papers, but at least a brief description of the iconography of the other objects is necessary at this time. For the sake of length, I will limit it to the other ivory objects with extant iconography: the two openwork plaques already discussed, a hypothetically reconstructed bed, and a leg of a table or stool.81 One of the two openwork plaques depicts a sphinx wearing an Egyptianizing collar and headgear, striding through stylized flowers, which Karageorghis identifies as palmettes and lotuses.82 The second depicts a stylized plant, which Karageorghis refers to as a ‘palmette tree.’83 This ‘tree’ has two tiers of voluted stems that curl outwards on both sides into a symmetrical composition, finishing with a fan-like growth on top. The same stylized flowers that appear on the sphinx plaque also grow from the ground line to either side of the ‘tree.’ A small section just at the base of the ‘tree’ contains three tiers of a scale pattern (Fig. 4). A row of repeating sphinxes and (more simplified) ‘palmette trees,’ springing from the scale patterns at their roots, also appears on the ivory plaques that Karageorghis reconstructed as a bed. Other imagery found on the bed plaques includes chains of stylized flowers, alternating in size from large to small, which Karageorghis

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One question we must ask is whether the chair was inherently sacred, even without the ivory and the gold, and was embellished only to (literally) reflect and/or enhance this inherent quality, or whether these embellishments directly caused the chair to become sacred, because their inherent properties were now integral to it as well. This latter possibility becomes strengthened if the deceased had actual physical contact with the chair – if he was placed in it during the funerary ritual or even used it during his life. (See below for a discussion of ritual.) The luminous chair would have enveloped the majority of his figure (though not his shoulders or head), literally giving him a sacred or divine aura. Karageorghis 1973, 87–88. Besides these three, the other ivory objects include a second badly preserved chair (made of wood and decorated with plain strips and discs of ivory), an equally-badly preserved footstool (also wooden and decorated with ivory discs), and various small finds, such as toggles and attachments, without figural iconography. See: Karageorghis 1973, 88–89, 118–120. Feldman addresses the issues of Karageorghis’ reconstruction of the bed. See: Feldman 2014, 157–158. Karageorghis 1973, 96. Karageorghis 1973, 92.

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Fig. 5   Illustration of a Cypro-Phoenician bowl from Salamis Tomb 2 (after Karageorghis 1967, pl. CXIII; by permission of the Department of Antiquities, Cyprus)

again identifies as palmettes and lotuses – almost identical in form to the flowers on the two openwork plaques – as well as a row of repeating Heh figures holding palm branches with simplified ‘trees’ between the branches, similar to those that appear between the sphinxes.84 One final ivory object with figural imagery included in the burial is the solid ivory leg of a table or stool that takes the form of a lion’s foot.85 The ‘palmette tree’ motif, repeated so often here, also appears in various iterations on many Levantine ivories from Nimrud.86 The scale pattern usually found at its base (both in Tomb 79 and on the Nimrud ivories) correlates interestingly with the scale pattern on the backrest of chair Γ. No ‘tree’ appears on chair Γ – the scales stand alone. Scales also appear on the openwork sphinx plaque at the springing of the sphinx’s wings, though this seems more mimetic of feathers and likely takes on different meaning. A Cypro-Pheonician bowl from Tomb 2 at Salamis (Fig. 5), though later in date, does offer a correlation between a sphinx and scales as it depicts a sphinx striding across a scale-patterned ground amid stylized flowers, which have the fan-like shape of palmettes.87 The palmettes and lotuses on the two openwork plaques and on the bed plaques are not identical to the alternating floral pattern on the chair Γ backrest; however, the alternating sizes – one with more, stiff, fan-like petals, the other with fewer, outwardly curving petals – does correlate generally with the pattern of flowers found on the bed plaques, which, in turn, are almost identical in form to the flowers on the openwork plaques. Finally, the sphinx imagery also correlates across the different pieces of ivory. Although the sphinx on the openwork plaque is winged and the sphinxes on the bed plaques are not, they are both definitely sphinxes and would therefore share common meaning. Additionally, the one outlying piece of ivory with iconography – the table leg – adds to the leonine imagery of the sphinxes with its feline foot. Taking all this into

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Karageorghis 1973, 93. Karagoerghis 1973, 119. Mallowan 1966, 547, no. 477; Herrmann et al. 2008, pl. G, no. 158. Karageorghis 1967, 19–20, pls. X, CXIII. The bowl dates from the second burial in this tomb, most likely during or after the 7th century BCE.

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consideration, only one section of iconography from chair Γ does not directly correlate (at least obviously) to another piece in the burial: the guilloche. This motif does appear on a highly varied and large quantity of Near Eastern objects, including both Levantine and Assyrian style ivories found at Nimrud.88 But what does this iconography mean? How does it perform as an agentive mechanism of chair Γ? The only imagery that offers any clue, at least in its association with a chair, is that of the sphinx. As Karageorghis states, “The sphinx was considered a protective animal of the god or the king, and was used to decorate royal thrones.”89 In the Late Bronze Age, a sphinx appears flanking an enthroned figure on an ivory plaque from Megiddo.90 A similar sphinx-flanked throne appears on the Ahiram sarcophagus.91 Solomon’s throne as described in the Hebrew Bible seems to have been similarly protected, as six lions flanked it on either side.92 Levantine furniture plaques from Nimrud also depict seated figures, whose chairs/thrones are decorated with sphinxes below their seats.93 By association with the sphinxes on the other ivory objects in the tomb, chair Γ therefore takes on a throne-like aspect – supporting Karageorghis’ original labelling of the object as a ‘throne’ – and gives the deceased a concomitant king-like identity. Does the rest of the iconography in the tomb support this association with royalty and kingship? Although the other imagery in Tomb 79 may take on different meanings in different contexts, there is one Levantine comparison that has, in one place, multiple motifs found in Tomb 79 and that does seem to support this association: the Kuntillet ‘Ajrud wall paintings, in northern Sinai, which date to the late-9th or early-8th century BCE. One wall painting from this site depicts a seated figure holding a lotus, as does the one on the Ahiram sarcophagus (though more provincial in style), which P. Beck suggests may be the king of Israel or Judah.94 Another painting preserves a fragmentary border design that includes registers of alternating stylized flowers (large and small) and guilloches. Because a similar motif of alternating flowers borders the top of the Ahiram sarcophagus, Beck postulates that this fragmentary border formed the border of the painting of the enthroned figure.95 Drawing solely on evidence from this site and Beck’s speculations, we might also speculate that the guilloche and flower patterns on chair Γ have iconographic associations with enthroned rulers. The correlations with the Ahiram sarcophagus also suggest that these associations remain similar both in the world of the living and in funerary contexts (at least in the Levant). As an agentive mechanism, the iconography of chair Γ, assessed along with the iconography of the other ivories, seems to further cement the connection between the deceased and the Levant, legitimizing him as a king-like figure on a par with his royal Levantine contemporaries. We must acknowledge that the meaning inherent in these motifs may have been understood differently in their place of origin than they were in Salamis, especially when placed in a funerary context; nonetheless, they were intentionally chosen. The curators may have known how their Levantine peers understood such imagery and sought to bring that understanding to Salamis to further legitimize the deceased as an elite of royal status, able to meet his Levantine peers on their level of power and prestige.

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Herrmann 1992, pl. 15, no. 95, pl. 1, no. 7 and 9; Herrmann et al. 2008, pl. 24, no. 159. Ivories from Hamah and Tel Halaf also bear guilloche motifs. See: Feldman 2015, 103, 106. Karageorghis 1969, 94. Beck 2000, 166. Beck 2000, 173–174. 1 Kings 10:19–20. Mallowan – Herrmann 1974, pls. LVI, no. 47, LVII, 48, LIX, no. 50. Beck 2000, 180–181. Beck 2000, 180–181.

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Conclusion: Ritual, Monumentality, and Memory All of the above agentive mechanisms bring us to the conclusion that the identity bestowed upon the deceased by chair Γ was a kingly one. As a foreign, luxury object, chair Γ gave its acquirer social, political, and diplomatic legitimacy. Its ivory material drew its possessor into an elite circle of consumers of ivory objects – perhaps specifically ivory thrones – from both the Levant and Assyria. The luminous nature of the ivory and gold decoration may have associated the chair, and thus the deceased, with the sacred or divine, while the iconography of the ivory goods as a whole may have projected an identity of kingship. This conclusion supports Rupp’s suggestion that the elite tombs from Salamis were the tombs of the first monarchs on Cyprus during the Iron Age, built to legitimize their new power.96 This conclusion becomes even more likely when we view chair Γ as part of a funerary ritual, set against the monumental backdrop of Tomb 79, and the memory that all of this pageantry left behind. The identity projected onto the deceased was not meant to die with him, but was rather one that lingered on through the ensuing ages, attached to those who succeeded him. Each of the agentive mechanisms discussed in this paper would have been activated in only one way: by having an audience view chair Γ in association with the deceased. Public funerals were common on Cyprus during the Iron Age. The fact that Tomb 79 was located outside the city of Salamis suggests that a procession occurred from the latter to the former. A ritual feast followed by the interment of many grave goods would also have drawn strong community attention.97 Such a feast most likely took place at Tomb 79, as suggested by the presence of two bronze cauldrons, two iron firedogs, twelve iron skewers, and remnants of food – eggshells, fish, and chicken bones – inside shallow bowls.98 Such a public display would have cemented the prestige of the deceased in the eyes of the community.99 The specific nuances of the public ritual at Tomb 79 remain elusive due to the repeated disturbance of the original deposit. However, the clear evidence of a feast along with the presence of banqueting furniture – chairs, footstools, perhaps a table and a bed – immediately suggest a comparison to the marzeah. This socio-religious rite, which included communal feasting, drinking, and memorializing the dead, is documented throughout the Levant.100 Amos’ admonitions against the lavish (ivory-decorated) court of Ahab and Jezebel, for instance, may be a specific condemnation of the marzeah ritual.101 The clear connections between the material nature of the Tomb 79 ivories, especially in terms of style and iconography, make a ritual connection to the Levant quite possible. More specifically, there is evidence of the use of chairs in funerary rituals and banquets across the Iron Age Near East. A Cypriot amphora dated from the mid-9th to the late-8th century BCE depicts a rare image of a seated woman imbibing a liquid through a siphon. P. Dikaios argues that this vase was a burial offering and portrays an image of the deified figure of the deceased.102 Other depictions of figures imbibing or eating while seated appear on the stele of KTMW from Zincirli,103 on an

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Rupp 1987, 156. Keswani 2012, 321–322. Karageorghis 1973, 13, 117. The burial in Tumulus MM at Gordion also provided clear evidence of a feast. See: note 64 above and Simpson 2010. Keswani 2012, 321–322. Beach 1992, 96. Beach 1992, 94. See: Dikaios 1940, 58–9; see also: Karageorghis – des Gagniers 1974, 8–9, 62. Next to the woman’s chair stands a sphinx holding and smelling a flower, a puzzling image, which nevertheless correlates compellingly with the ivory iconography in Tomb 79. Struble – Herrmann 2009, 26. The depiction of the chair on this stele approximates a schematized illustration of chair Γ in silhouette. Ivory table legs similar to those depicted on the stele as well as an ivory footstool have been discovered at Zincirli, which suggests that ivory-decorated furniture was used at the time, though we cannot know if the chair in this particular stele had such decoration.

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Assyrian relief depicting King Assurbanipal with his wife,104 and on the aforementioned Megiddo ivory and the Ahiram sarcophagus.105 The association of thrones or chairs with feasts also appears in the Homeric epics.106 If chair Γ actually performed a role in a burial feast, who sat in it? Or was its presence more symbolic? Though it dates from the Late Bronze Age, a text describing a fourteen-day Hittite burial ritual offers compelling suggestions. During this ritual, the deceased’s bones were placed in a chair for a ceremonial meal; later, an image of the deceased was placed on a gold throne during another feast honouring the gods, ancestors, and the deceased’s soul.107 If the bones or an effigy of the deceased from Tomb 79 were placed in chair Γ, the agentive mechanisms of the chair would have projected upon him very strongly due to the physical connection. The least we can say with certainty about the ritual in which chair Γ performed is that it was grand, public, and set against the backdrop of the monumental Tomb 79. Monumentality in tomb architecture often reflects the need for a legitimization of power; it “symbolize[s] power wished for but not yet consolidated.”108 The ivory goods, specifically chair Γ, inside the tomb echo this need, and the agentive properties of these goods would not have ceased to function once they were buried.109 The memory of the goods would have “create[d] a functioning ancestor” in the person of the deceased, one whose fame would have “remain[ed] in the memory of those still living, providing means to contact, and thus tap, his or her ancestral power.”110 In this way, the memory of chair Γ would have taken on the agentive mechanisms of the physical chair, creating an identity that could last as long as the memory did. The memory of the burial in Tomb 79 may thus have lasted for years, especially with its tumulus acting as a visual mnemonic device.111 This powerful, affective memory would have conferred legitimacy upon the deceased’s successors, perhaps even establishing a legendary lineage.112 If this was the case, the curators of Tomb 79 – in order to create a socially significant, politically able, diplomatically savvy, divinely touched, king-like ancestor – would have had no other choice but to bury an ivory-covered chair in the tomb. Future studies of the other burial goods in this tomb, following the analytical model presented here, will hopefully add to and support the conclusions of this paper. Acknowledgements: I would like to extend my sincerest thanks to Liat Naeh and Dana Brostowsky Gilboa for including me in their 2016 ICAANE workshop, which led directly to the publication of this paper. It is a delightful honour. A warm thank-you also goes to Nava Panitz-Cohen and Amihai Mazar for sharing a chapter from their forthcoming publication on Tel Rehov. Finally, I am deeply indebted to Nassos Papalexandrou for his indispensible aid with my original thesis.

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In the Assyrian relief, the king’s wife sits on a straight-backed chair with a footstool, while her husband reclines on a couch, and they both partake of either food and/or drink. See: Collins 2008, 136–138. The Late Bronze Age Megiddo ivory shows an enthroned king feasting before a procession of war captives. The Ahiram sarcophagus “was inspired by Late Bronze Age scenes [and] seems to collapse an audience of the king with the ceremony for his funeral.” See: Suter 2011, 229. Iliad 14.237; Odyssey 8.76. For an excellent summary of the ritual see: Simpson 2010, 129–130. For the original account see: Haas 1995, 2024–2027. Marcus 2003, 115, 134. Marcus writes: “Evidence suggests that some early states, still lacking effective institutionalized power, invested heavily in public construction or elaborate tombs precisely because they needed impressive visible symbols to mask that lack of power”. For further reading on this concept in the Aegean world see: Papalexandrou 2005. Helms 1993, 142. Comparative evidence from the other tombs at Salamis suggests that a tumulus was erected above the tomb, conspicuously marking its location on the surface. See: Carstens 2006, 131, note 42. Furthering this legitimacy would have been the fact that the deceased’s heirs could afford to bury such a quantity of luxury goods, effectively reserving them for the dead and prohibiting their own use of the goods as status symbols in the world of the living. See: Keswani 2004, 159.

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References Aruz 2014 J. Aruz, Art and networks of interaction across the Mediterranean, in: J. Aruz – S. B. Graff – Y. Rakic (eds.), Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age (New York 2014) 112–124. Barnett 1982 R. D. Barnett, Ancient Ivories in the Middle East, Qedem 14 (Jerusalem 1982). Beach 1992 E. F. Beach, The Samaria ivories, Marzeaḥ and biblical texts, Biblical Archaeologist 55, 3, 1992, 130–139. Beck 2000 P. Beck, The Art of Palestine during the Iron Age II. Local Traditions and External Influences (10th–8th centuries BCE), in: C. Uehlinger (ed.), Images as Media. Sources for the Cultural History of the Near East and the Eastern Mediterranean (1st Millennium BCE), Orbicus Biblicus et Orientalis 175 (Fribourg, Göttingen 2000) 166–183. Bolger 2003 D. Bolger, Gender in Ancient Cyprus. Narratives of Social Change on a Mediterranean Island (Walnut Creek 2003). Carstens 2006 A. M. Carstens, Cypriot chamber tombs, in: L. W. Sørensen – K. Winther-Jacobsen (eds.), Panayia Ematousa II. Political, Cultural, Ethnic and Social Relations in Cyprus. Approaches to Regional Studies, Monographs of the Danish Institute at Athens 6 (Athens 2006) 125–179. Caubet 2008 A. Caubet, Ivory, shell, and bone, in: J. Aruz – K. Benzel – J. M. Evans (eds.), Beyond Babylon. Art, Trade, and Diplomacy in the Second Millennium B.C. (New York 2008) 406–418. Collins 2008 P. Collins, Assyrian Palace Sculptures (Austin, London 2009). Collon 1977 D. Collon, Ivory, Iraq 39, 1977, 219–222. Crowfoot – Crowfoot 1938 J. W. Crowfoot – G. M. Crowfoot, Early Ivories from Samaria (London 1938). Dikaios 1940 P. Dikaios, An Iron Age painted amphora in the Cyprus Museum, The Annual of the British School at Athens 37/1936– 37, 1940, 56–72. Feldman 2010 M. H. Feldman, Object agency? Spatial perspective, social relations, and the stele of Hammurabi, in: Steadman – Ross 2010, 148–165. Feldman 2014 M. H. Feldman, Communities of Style. Portable Luxury Arts, Identity, and Collective Memory in the Iron Age Levant (Chicago 2014). Feldman 2015 M. H. Feldman, Houses of ivory. The consumption of ivories in the Iron Age Levant, Altorientalische Forschungen 42, 1, 2015, 97–111. Gell 1998 A. Gell, Art and Agency. An Anthropological Theory (Oxford 1998). Gunter 2009 A. C. Gunter, Greek Art and the Orient (Cambridge 2009). Haas 1995 V. Haas, Death and the afterlife in Hittite thought, in: J. M. Sasson (ed.), Civilizations of the Ancient Near East 3 (New York 1995) 2021–2030.

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Herrmann 1992 G. Herrmann, The Small Collections from Fort Shalmaneser, Ivories from Nimrud V (London 1992). Herrmann et al. 2008 G. Herrmann – S. Laidlaw – H. Coffey, Ivories from the North West Palace, Ivories from Nimrud VI (London 2008). Herrmann – Millard 2003 G. Herrmann – A. Millard, Who used ivories in the early first millennium BC?, in: T. Potts – M. Roaf – D. Stein (eds.), Culture Through Objects. Ancient Near Eastern Studies in Honour of P. R. S. Moorey (Oxford 2003) 377–402. Helms 1993 M. W. Helms, Craft and the Kingly Ideal. Art, Trade, and Power (Austin 1993). Janes 2010 S. Janes, Negotiating island interactions. Cyprus, the Aegean and the Levant in the Late Bronze to Early Iron ages, in: P. van Dommelen – A. B. Knapp (eds.), Material Connections in the Ancient Mediterranean. Mobility, Materiality, and Mediterranean Identities (London 2010) 127–146. Johnson 2013 C. R. Johnson, To Sit in Splendor. The Ivory Throne as an Agent of Identity in Tomb 79 from Salamis, Cyprus (MA Thesis, University of Texas at Austin, Austin 2013). Karageorghis 1967 V. Karageorghis, Excavations in the Necropolis of Salamis I, Salamis 3 (Nicosia 1967). Karageorghis 1969 V. Karageorghis, Salamis. Recent Discoveries in Cyprus (New York 1969). Karageorghis 1973 V. Karageorghis, Excavations in the Necropolis of Salamis III, Salamis 5 (Nicosia 1973). Karageorghis – des Gagniers 1974 V. Karageorghis – J. des Gagniers, La céramique chypriot de style figuré. Âge du Fer (1050–500 av. J.-C.) (Rome 1974). Keswani 2004 P. Keswani, Mortuary Ritual and Society in Bronze Age Cyprus (London 2004). Keswani 2012 P. Schuster Keswani, Mortuary practices and burial cults in Cyprus from the Bronze Age through the Early Iron Age, in: G. Cadogan – M. Iacovou – K. Kopaka – J. Whitley (eds.), Parallel Lives. Ancient Island Societies in Crete and Cyprus (Athens 2012) 313–330. Mallowan 1966 M. Mallowan, Nimrud and its Remains Vols. I–III (Aberdeen, New York 1966). Mallowan – Herrmann 1974 M. Mallowan – G. Herrmann, Furniture from SW.7 Fort Shalmaneser, Ivories from Nimrud III (London 1974). Marcus 2003 J. Marcus, Monumentality in Archaic states. Lessons learned from large-scale excavations of the past, in: J. K. Papadopoulos – R. M. Leventhal (eds.), Theory and Practice in Mediterranean Archaeology. Old World and New World Perspectives, Cotsen Advanced Seminar 1 (Los Angeles 2003) 115–134. Mazar – Panitz-Cohen in press A. Mazar – N. Panitz-Cohen (eds.), Tel Rehov. The 1997–2012 Excavations Vols. I–V, Qedem (in press). Moorey 1999 P. R. S. Moorey, Ancient Mesopotamian Materials and Industries. The Archaeological Evidence (Winona Lake 1999). Naeh 2015 L. Naeh, In search of identity. The contribution of recent finds to our understanding of Iron Age ivory objects in the material culture of the Southern Levant, Altorientalische Forschungen 42, 1, 2015, 80–96.

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Oates – Oates 2001 J. Oates – D. Oates, Nimrud. An Assyrian Imperial City Revealed (London 2001). Ornan 2012 T. Ornan, The role of gold in royal representation. The case of a bronze statue from Hazor, in: R. Matthews – J. Curtis (eds.), Proceedings of the 7th International Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near East, 12 April – 16 April 2010, Vol. 2 (London 2012) 445–458. Papalexandrou 2005 N. Papalexandrou, The Visual Poetics of Power. Warriors, Youths, and Tripods in Early Greece (Lanham 2005). Reyes 1994 A. T. Reyes, Archaic Cyprus. A Study of the Textual and Archaeological Evidence (Oxford 1994). Rupp 1987 D. W. Rupp, Vive le roi. The emergence of the state in Iron Age Cyprus, in: D. W. Rupp (ed.), Western Cyprus. Connections, Studies in Mediterranean Archaeology 76 (Göteborg 1987) 147–161. Rupp 1988 D. W. Rupp, The ‘royal tombs’ at Salamis (Cyprus). Ideological messages of power and authority, Journal of Mediterranean Archaeology 1, 1, 1988, 111–139. Simpson 2010 E. Simpson, The Furniture from Tumulus MM, The Gordion Wooden Objects I (Leiden 2010). Steadman – Ross 2010 S. R. Steadman – J. C. Ross (eds.), Agency and Identity in the Ancient Near East. New Paths Forward (Oakville 2010). Struble – Herrmann 2009 E. J. Struble – V. R. Herrmann, An eternal feast at Sam’al. The New Iron Age mortuary stele from Zincirli in context, Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 356, 2009, 15–49. Suter 2010 C. E. Suter, Luxury goods in ancient Israel. Questions of consumption and production, in: P. Matthiae – F. Pinnock – L. Nigro – N. Marchetti (eds.), Proceedings of the 6th International Congress on the Archaeology of the Ancient Near East, Vol. 1 (Wiesbaden 2010) 993–1002. Suter 2011 C. E. Suter, Images, tradition, and meaning. The Samaria and other Levantine ivories of the Iron Age, in: G. Frame – E. Leighty – K. Sonik – J. Tigay – S. Tinney (eds.), A Common Cultural Heritage. Studies on Mesopotamia and the Biblical World in Honor of Barry L. Eichler (Bethesda 2011) 219–241. Suter 2015 C. E. Suter, Classifying Iron Age Levantine ivories. Impracticalities and a new approach, Altorientalische Forschungen 42, 2015, 31–45. Thomason 2005 A. K. Thomason, Luxury and Legitimation. Royal Collecting in Ancient Mesopotamia (Burlington 2005). Uehlinger 2005 C. Uehlinger, Die Elfenbeinschnitzereien von Samaria und die Religionsgeschichte Israels. Vorüberlegungen zu einem Forschungsprojekt, in: C. E. Suter – C. Uehlinger (eds.), Crafts and Images in Contact. Studies on Eastern Mediterranean Art of the First Millennium BCE (Fribourg 2005) 149–186. Welkamp – de Geus 1998 A. Welkamp – C. H. J. de Geus, Fit for a king? An ivory throne found at Salamis, Cyprus, Jaarbericht van het Vooraziatisch-Egyptisch genootschap Ex Oriente Lux 34/1995–1996, 1998, 87–99. Winter 1988 I. J. Winter, North Syria as a bronzeworking centre in the early first millennium BC. Luxury commodities at home and abroad, in: J. Curtis (ed.), Bronzeworking Centres of Western Asia c. 1000–539 BC (London 1988) 193–225.

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Winter 1994 I. J. Winter, Radiance as an aesthetic value in the art of Mesopotamia, in: B. N. Saraswati – S. C. Malik – M. Khanna (eds.), Art. The Integral Vision. A Volume of Essays in Felicitation of Kapila Vatsyayan (New Delhi 1994) 123–132. Winter 2007 I. J. Winter, Agency marked, agency ascribed. The affective object in ancient Mesopotamia, in: R. Osborne – J. Tanner (eds.), Art’s Agency and Art History (Malden, Oxford 2007) 42–69.

Throne Among the Gods: A Short Study of the Throne in Archaic Greek Iconography Yael Young 1 Abstract: This article focuses on images of thrones depicted in scenes connected to the Greek gods. Most of them decorate Archaic Attic black-figure vases, but two Archaic reliefs are also discussed. The purpose is to examine the function of the throne within a certain scene. What does it signify? Should it always be understood in the same way? The article is divided into three sections: (A) depictions of a single throne in a certain scene, (B) depictions of two thrones in a certain scene, and (C) thrones juxtaposed with other types of seats in a certain scene. In most cases, especially when it appears as the only seating object in the scene, the throne signifies the high, privileged status and power of the figure occupying it, differentiating him or her from the other participants. This is true also for the depiction of two thrones. However, when juxtaposed with other types of seats, the throne’s function as a rigid sign differentiating a certain figure within the image is questioned. Keywords: throne, black-figure vases, visualizing power, status

Introduction There are various types of seats known in the ancient Greek world, the throne (thronos, in Greek) among them. Generally derived from Egyptian and Mesopotamian prototypes, the throne is frequently described in literature and depicted in art. It is an object that signifies importance, high status, privileged position, power, and dignity: “the stately chair par excellence”.2 Seats in general – and thrones in particular – have been discussed by various scholars in the past. The picture reflected in these publications is that the ‘throne’ as a type, is not simple to define. One of the first major publications on furniture is the monumental book by Gisela M. A. Richter, published in 1966,3 in which she discusses thrones and other types of seats in the Greek and Roman world and divides them further into variants.4 According to Richter, there are four types of thrones, distinguished mainly by the form of the legs: with animal feet, with turned legs, with rectangular legs, and with solid sides. Although not specifically defined, it is clear from the discussion and the examples collected by Richter that she considers a ‘throne’ as a seat most commonly equipped with a back, with or without armrests.5 It may or may not be used with the accompaniment of a footstool. Three years later, Helmut Kyrieleis published a monograph devoted solely to thrones and couches. Looking beyond the Greek world, Kyrieleis studied both types of furniture also in the Ancient Near East. The important realization arising from his discussion is the tie between the Greek throne, as a type of furniture, to eastern cultures. The typology offered by Kyrieleis differs from that given by Richter, although it is also

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Department of Art History, the Hebrew University, Jerusalem and The Unit for History and Philosophy of Art, Design and Technology, Shenkar College of Engineering, Design and Art, Ramat Gan, Israel, yaelyoungron@gmail. com. I would like to thank Dana Brostowsky Gilboa and Liat Naeh for their invitation to contribute to the volume. It was a pleasure to deal with this fascinating subject. Richter 1966, 13. Three years before Richter’s publication, T. H. Robsjohn-Gibbings published his Furniture of Classical Greece. As a furniture designer, he was mainly interested in recreating Greek furniture based on his scrupulous study of visual and archaeological records. However, the book is not scholarly in the strict sense of the word and therefore is not very helpful to the present study. Nevertheless, we should note that Robsjohn-Gibbings speaks about “seven basic models – throne-like chairs, stools, couches, footstools, tables, chests and […] klismos” (Robsjohn-Gibbings – Pullin 1963, 31–32). The ‘throne-like’ chair is clearly a separate type, but the author does not explain what it means. Richter 1966, 13–52. Under this category, Richter also discusses very few thrones whose back ‘is missing’. See: Richter 1966, 24.

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based on the shape of the legs.6 As opposed to Richter, Kyrieleis considers ‘thrones’ as seats both with and without a back (“Throne ohne Lehnen … oder Stühle”).7 Some of the examples that he collects under this heading correspond to what Richter classifies as ‘diphroi’ – stools without a back.8 I am inclined to adhere to the classification presented by Richter, that is, that thrones are a type of seat equipped with a back of varying length and shape. They are highly decorated objects, luxurious and majestic. In addition to the decorated legs, their backs frequently bear decorated finials or take an animal shape. Under the armrests or between their legs we may find supporting figures or ‘Stützfiguren’. The variety of these supporting figures is vast: winged females, lions, standing or fighting males.9 The decorative aspect is an integral feature of the objects forming the category of ‘throne’. Alongside the throne, the Greeks used other types of seats – chairs, stools, benches, and simple blocks. Athenaeus, active at the end of the 2nd and beginning of the 3rd century CE, said: “Now the throne, taken by itself alone, is a chair of a man of high birth; it has a footstool […] The chair [klismos, light chair with back],10 on the other hand, is provided more sumptuously with an inclined back. Poorer than either of these was the stool (diphros).”11 The rigid hierarchy he creates, however, is not supported by the literary and visual sources, as we will see below. Indeed, in some cases other types of seats may have served as thrones in specific, throne-like contexts. The purpose of this article is to discuss visual representations of thrones, a chair with a back, and their function in the visual image. I am not concerned with the typology of the variants mentioned above: although differing in shape and form, it seems reasonable to assume that all thrones bear the same content and are meant to be understood in the same way. My focus is on scenes depicting assemblies of the Greek gods because there are ample examples of thrones depicted in them.12 This is not surprising as divine society is hierarchic by nature. The time scope is the Archaic period (c. 600–480 BCE), and the images appear mainly on Attic black-figure vases. I will first discuss images of thrones as single seats in certain scenes. I will then move to images of two thrones; finally, I will discuss images in which the throne is juxtaposed with other types of seats. The purpose of this organization is to shift our view from the more common narrative focus towards the material object itself and its function within the image.

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Kyrieleis 1969, 131–139, 144–151, 154–162, 181–193. The measure of elusiveness connected to this typology is exemplified also by the fact that Kyrieleis discusses thrones without backs, whereas Richter considers such seats to be stools. Kyrieleis 1969, 131. See also the discussion of John Curtis about Assyrian furniture. Although he defines a ‘throne’ as a chair with high back, he later discusses “Backless thrones/stools” similarly to Kyrieleis. See: Curtis 1996, 168, 171. The most recent publication on Greek furniture is Andrianou 2009. Her study focuses mainly on archaeological findings and epigraphical records dating to the late Classical and Hellenistic periods, and it is therefore largely irrelevant to the present discussion. Although not specifically defined, it seems that Andrianou considers the throne to be a seat with a back, usually with armrests and footstool (Andrianou 2009, 30–31). The author’s claim that thrones are found only in funerary contexts (and not in domestic ones) makes it clear that the throne was not an ordinary seat. Kyrieleis 1969, 194–201. For a brief discussion of the decorative aspect of thrones in Greek literature, see: Richter 1966, 14. See: Richter 1966, 33–37. Athenaeus 5.192e–f. A basic study on assemblies of gods in general is Knell 1965, which organizes the material around mythological scenes (the birth of Athena and the return of Hephaistos to Olympos) and specific gods. H. A. Shapiro connected the popularity of depicting assemblies of gods, enthroned scenes among them, to the inauguration of the cult of the twelve gods in Athens during the last quarter of the 6th century BCE. See: Shapiro 1989, 134–141.

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A. Single Throne The most pervasive representation of the throne in Archaic art is as a single seat in a particular scene. It appears in many narrative contexts without being bound to a single figure. However, as the single sitting object, it always retains its content as a visual sign of status and power.13 Zeus Zeus, the divine king, is by far the most frequent god to occupy a throne. One of the earliest such depictions is in an assembly of gods decorating a fragmentary Siana-cup attributed to the Heidelberg painter, the name vase of that painter. The cup is housed in the collection of the University of Heidelberg and is dated to c. 560 BCE (Fig. 1).14 In the centre of the composition we see Zeus sitting on an elaborate throne, turning to the right. In front of him stand Hermes, Athena, and Dionysos, all easily recognizable by means of their distinctive attributes. Behind Zeus stand three more gods, of whom only Poseidon is clearly recognizable, while the other two goddesses are anonymous due to the condition of the cup.15 The privileged status of Zeus is clearly marked by two factors: (a) his immobile sitting position vs. the standing, more active position of the other standing gods;16 (b) the throne on which he sits is an elaborately decorated object with much attention to detail, including a swan-like finial on the back, an ornamented side panel and a floral design between the legs, probably his thunderbolt. The Heidelberg painter chose to emphasize Zeus’s centrality not only by means of opposing positions and movements as well as his location, but also by designating a majestic object as the seat of Zeus, the king of gods. The throne here adds a material component to visualizing the theme of Zeus presiding over an assembly of gods on Olympos, and to visualizing the interrelations among the gods.17 On an amphora attributed to the Princeton Group and housed in the Louvre, we see a different compositional scheme.18 Enthroned Zeus is sitting off-centre. Behind him stands an anonymous goddess, and in front of him are Dionysos, Hermes, and Ares.19 The shift in Zeus’s place from centre to the side does not change his status and privileged position. Here, too, the two factors – the sitting-immobile/standing-active opposition and the presence of the throne – communicate this notion.20 A good example of the systematic inclusion of thrones as single seat in a narrative scene is the birth of Athena. This event is attested very early in both literary and visual sources. Hesiod, in the Theogony (c. 700 BCE), recounts the story of her miraculous birth from Zeus’s head (lines

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I here confine myself to the discussion of occupied thrones. We should note that there is a rich scholarship on empty thrones that signifies in an aniconic manner the same notions. See: Platt 2011, 103 with further bibliography. Heidelberg, Ruprecht-Karls-Universität, S5. ABV 63.1; Add² 17; BAPD 300545. From Greece, near Phaleron. The subject of the scene is unclear. J. Beazley (in the ABV), followed by others, described it as “Athena and Dionysos conducted by Hermes to Zeus”. In the CVA (Heidelberg Universität 4, 5–26, pl. 151.1.3–4), it is identified as ‘an assembly’. Boardman identified it as the introduction of Dionysos to Olympos. See: Boardman 1990, 123, no. 2847. The best solution, it seems, is to leave the identification open. Laurens – Lissarrague 1990, 59, and see further below. Shapiro 1989, 116. Paris, Musée du Louvre, F4. ABV 301.1; BAPD 320442. The amphora is dated to the third quarter of the 6th century BCE. Several scholars have suggested various tentative identifications of the anonymous goddess and as a consequence, identifications of the scene: Semele and her introduction: ARV 301.1; Kossatz-Deissmann 1994, 722, no. 20; Eileithyia and the preparations for the birth of Athena: CVA Louvre 3, 10, pl. 10, no. 7; Hera, without identifying the scene: Siebert 1990, 346, no. 725; Gods leave (perhaps) for the Trojan war: Shapiro 1990, 87. All in all, the subject of the scene is unclear, and it might depict a non-narrative gathering of the gods. There are corresponding scenes, where Zeus is shown seated on stools. An example of a non-narrative assembly of gods with Zeus siting on a folding stool is a black-figure amphora housed in Gotha (Schlossmuseum, 36. BAPD 360886), and that of Zeus sitting on a stool in a black-figure amphora housed in Munich (Munich, Antikensammlungen, 8772. BAPD 340426).

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Fig. 1   Black-figure Siana-cup from Greece, near Phaleron, attributed to the Heidelberg painter. Ruprecht-KarlsUniversität, Heidelberg, S5 (illustration: Hanny Lihi Lieber, after BAPD)

886–900 and 924–926). The Homeric Hymn 28 To Athena explicitly says that Athena sprang out of Zeus’s head “arrayed in warlike arms, golden, gleaming” (lines 5–6). Visual representations of the birth scene begin with a small series of panels decorating shield bands from Olympia, dating to the late 7th century BCE.21 Most such representations, however, decorate Attic vases. All exhibit rather consistent iconography with a few variations, such as the identity and number of the figures surrounding the birth. All, however, share the same unchanging visual kernel: Zeus is always seen seated and Athena is always armed. Interestingly, the type of seat on which Zeus is shown sitting is not part of the consistent visual kernel. Although the throne is the most common, he may also sit on folding stools, and in this context, both types of seat seem to bear a similar meaning.22 An important depiction of a throne appears in a birth scene that decorates a Tyrrhenian amphora housed in the Louvre, dating to c. 570 BCE.23 In the centre, Zeus is sitting on a throne whose

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For a general discussion of the iconography of the birth of Athena, see: Cassimatis 1984, 985–990, 1021–1023; Carpenter 1991, 71–72; Schefold 1992, 6–16. For a discussion about folding stools, see: Richter 1966, 43–46; Wanscher 1980, 86–103. Late sources, cited by Wanscher, clearly connect this type of furniture to status as it was carried by servants for their masters. An example for using a folding stool is a black-figure cup housed in New York (Metropolitan Museum, 06.1097. BAPD 302576). Zeus is never seated on blocks in birth scenes. For further discussion on folding stools, see below. Paris, Musée du Louvre, E852. ABV 96.13; BAPD 310013. The scene depicts ‘pre-birth’ iconography, that is to say, scenes that are like those depicting the birth of Athena, but without showing the goddess herself emerging from Zeus’s head. See: Cassimatis 1984, 986, no. 334.

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legs are equipped with animal feet turned outwards, a common type in Greek iconography.24 The back of the throne is ornate with a swan finial and bears a cushion. Zeus’s legs probably rested on a footstool as both are depicted floating above the ground line. He is flanked by two Eileithyiai and other gods, all identified by inscriptions. The seat itself is also identified as a throne by an inscription: thronos (θρόνος). Labelling is a common practice in Archaic vase painting and pertains mostly to figures but occasionFig. 2   Black-figure cup from Vulci, Etruria, attributed to the Phrynos painter (Side A), The British Museum, London, B424 ally also to objects.25 This inscription, as (by permission of the Trustees of the British Museum) far as I know, is the sole occurrence of this specific word in the entire corpus of Greek inscriptions on Attic vases. It creates a univalent connection between ‘throne’ and the image of an ornate chair with a back. Another example is a lip-cup attributed to the Phrynos painter and housed in the British Museum, dating to c. 550 BCE.26 Here the birth scene is concise and consists of three figures: seated Zeus, armed Athena jumping out of his head, and terrified Hephaistos (Fig. 2). The supporting seat is an elaborately decorated throne with animal-foot legs, the back terminating in a swan finial and four Doric columns supporting the armrest. Parts of the throne are painted in white, perhaps indicating the use of ivory.27 Side B is decorated with another mythical scene in which Zeus is seen seated on a throne – the introduction of Herakles to Olympos (Fig. 3).28 Here too we see a concise introduction of the Herakles scene consisting of three participants.29 Zeus is sitting on

Fig. 3   Black-figure cup attributed to the Phrynos painter (Side B), The British Museum, London, B424 (by permission of the Trustees of the British Museum) 24 25

26 27 28

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Richter 1966, 15–16. For a discussion of this practice, see: Sparkes 1991, 112. See below for further discussion about labels accompanying objects. London, British Museum, B424. ABV 168, 169.3; Para 70; BAPD 301068. From Vulci, Etruria. Lapatin 2015, 173. For a general discussion of the iconography of the introduction of Herakles, see: Boardman 1990, 121–132 (section VIII, Herakles’ death and apotheosis); Schefold 1992, 33–43. Oakley 2013, 42–43.

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a throne identical to the one depicted in the birth scene. On the left, Athena is leading Herakles towards Zeus. In both scenes the throne not only embodies the power and status of Zeus, but also helps the Phrynos painter tie both scenes into a single continuous narrative that emphasizes the role of Athena in the Greek pantheon.30 Before moving on, a word should be said about the decoration of the thrones. As noted at the outset, the decorative aspect is an integral feature of the throne. Therefore, some of the thrones seen in Archaic vase painting deserve special attention. Two examples will suffice. Both are typical birth of Athena scenes decorating amphorae attributed to Group E and dating to the third quarter of the 6th century BCE. One is housed in the British Museum,31 the other in the Louvre.32 The throne seen on the British Museum amphora has rectangular legs with typical rounded cutouts inlaid with red and white palmettes (Fig. 4). Its back is shaped in the form of the forepart of a horse springing out. The horse’s swift movement echoes that of newborn Athena. They both raise their bending legs and push them forward; they are both partially shown while being ‘delivered’, Athena from her father’s head, the horse from the seat of the throne. The decision to shape the throne’s back as a horse may not be arbitrary as it is an animal closely connected to Athena.33 Between the legs of the throne is another interesting image. Two naked youths stand facing each other. The youth on the left points with both hand towards his companion’s genitals; the youth on the right touches his companion’s chin with his right hand and holds a wreath in the left. This subsidiary image closely resembles courting between males, a very popular type of scene in the second half of the 6th century BCE.34 It seems that these two males are small freestanding statuettes inserted under the seat.35 Schefold suggested that this image evokes the life of pleasure on Olympos and the erotic affairs of the gods.36 Perhaps the artist juxtaposed two types of relationships in the vertical main axis: divine father and daughter and earthly courting males. The throne depicted on the amphora in the Louvre is likewise heavily ornamented. It is of the rectangular leg type, decorated with cutouts and white palmettes. Between the legs a winged woman is pacing to the right, perhaps echoing the movement of the goddess above. An owl, a bird closely connected to Athena, serves as the back of the throne.37 These subsidiary images, together with the type of throne – a Greek creation with no parallels in the east – make these objects truly Greek in essence. They are creations (imaginary or real) that contribute to the entire picture at several levels. Other Gods As mentioned above, Zeus is the most common god to occupy a throne depicted as a single seat in a certain scene, but he is certainly not the only one. Here I would like to discuss scenes depicting younger deities sitting on thrones. The first appears on an amphora housed in the British Museum (Fig. 5).38 It is attributed to the Witt painter and dated to the third quarter of the 6th century BCE. On one side of the amphora we see the god Dionysos sitting on a throne equipped with animal feet and a swan finial. He is fully dressed and bearded, an ivy wreath adorns his head, and a kantharos is in his hand. He is flanked by two dancing satyrs with prominent erections. Here, Dionysos is

30 31 32 33 34

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Kurtz 1989, 1–2. London, British Museum, B147. ABV 168, 169.3; BAPD 310304. From Vulci, Etruria. Paris, Musée du Louvre, F32. BAPD 310303. Deacy 2008, 47–49. These scenes were discussed by Shapiro. The decoration discussed here resembles Scheme Alpha (Shapiro 1981, 133–134), even if not in an accurate manner. Two good comparisons are amphorae attributes to Group E, one from the London market (BAPD 12989), the other from the Vatican Museum (BAPD 301064). For Assyrian precedents for such throne ornaments, see: Curtis 1996, 169–170. Schefold 1992, 14. Deacy 2008, 6–7. London, British Museum, W38. ABV 313.2; BAPD 301614.

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Fig. 5   Black-figure amphora attributed to the Witt painter, The British Museum, London, W38 (by permission of the Trustees of the British Museum)

Fig. 4   Black-figure amphora from Vulci, Etruria, attributed to Group E, The British Museum, London, B147 (by permission of the Trustees of the British Museum)

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Fig. 6   Black-figure Siana-cup from Siana, Rhodes, in the manner of the C painter, The British Museum, London, B379 (by permission of the Trustees of the British Museum)

depicted as the king of his entourage. His immobile, sitting position is opposed to the dancing, frantic satyrs. The throne adds another component to his majestic image. Another scene decorates an amphora housed in Berlin.39 It is attributed to the Nikoxenos painter and dated to c. 500 BCE. On the left, we see Persephone seated on a throne like the one on which Dionysos sits, holding a sceptre in her hand. While sitting inside a building, indicated by the presence of a column, she inspects Sisyphos, who rolls the rock uphill. Here too, her status is indicated primarily by her sitting position, but the throne adds a measure of majesty to her figure. She is clearly represented as the queen of the underworld presiding over her subject, much as Dionysos is in his realm. B. Two Thrones Occasionally, two thrones are depicted in a single scene. As far as I know, this is the maximum number of thrones appearing side by side.40 In most of these cases, Zeus and his wife Hera, the divine king and queen, occupy them in the presence of other gods. An early example of such a scene appears on the outer side of a Siana-cup in the manner of the C painter. It is housed in the British Museum and dates to c. 570–560 BCE (Fig. 6).41 The scene depicts the introduction of

39 40

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Berlin, Antikensammlung, F1844. ABV 392.2; ARV 149.28; Add² 103; BAPD 302918. From Vulci, Etruria. As opposed to other types of seats that may appear in greater numbers, often indicating equal status. E.g., a black-figure amphora attributed to Exekias depicting a scene of an assembly of gods sitting on stools and blocks (Orvieto, Museo Civico, Coll. Faina, 78. BAPD 310391) or a black-figure pyxis depicting the gods sitting on blocks (Florence, Museo Archeologico Etrusco, 76931. BAPD 201951). London, British Museum, B379. ABV 60.20; Para 26; Add² 16; BAPD 300525. From Siana, Rhodes.

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Fig. 7   Black-figure amphora attributed to the Phrynos painter, Antikenmuseum und Sammlung Ludwig, Basel, 103.4 (illustration: Hanny Lihi Lieber, after BAPD)

Herakles to Olympos and is divided into two sections. To the left, we see Zeus and Hera sitting on elaborate similar thrones, resting their feet on footstools. Both thrones have animal-shaped legs, and the finials of their backs are volute- and snake-shaped. Decorated cloths hang on the side of their thrones. Zeus holds his thunderbolt and Hera opens her veil in the typical gesture of anakalypsis. Hebe, her daughter and the future wife of Herakles, stands beside her.42 To the right, we see a procession advancing. Herakles is approaching, led by Hermes and by Athena. Behind him stand Artemis and Ares. The similar thrones on which the divine couple is sitting unite them visually and clearly state their privileged, equal place, status, and power on Olympos. The Archaic small limestone pediment from the Acropolis, dating to the second quarter of the th century BCE is yet another case in point.43 In the scene of the introduction of Herakles to the 6 Olympos we see Zeus sitting on a throne turning to the right. He rests his legs on a high footstool. Next to him sits Hera, positioned frontally. Even though this pediment raises many problems and uncertainties,44 without a doubt it represents a divine couple sitting on thrones, uniting them and marking their status and power. A final example decorates an amphora housed in Basel. It is probably by the Phrynos painter and dates to c. 550–540 BCE (Fig. 7).45 On side A appears the birth of Athena.46 In the centre, Zeus is shown seated in the usual position while a small, armed Athena

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Carpenter 1986, 101; Shapiro 1989, 135. Athens, Acropolis Museum, 9. For a discussion on the pediment and the problems revolving around it, see: Shapiro 1989, 21–24; Stewart 1990, 114; Hurwit 1999, 112–117, 341, n. 54. Basel, Antikenmuseum und Sammlung Ludwig, 103.4. BAPD 213. Side B is decorated with an introduction of Herakles scene, where we find Zeus and Hera standing on the left. Here the throne is omitted, in favor of another iconographic scheme.

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springs out of his head. He is bearded, fully dressed, holding a sceptre and a thunderbolt in his hands, and rests his feet on a footstool. The throne has a swan-like finial and two lions as a decorative ornament between its legs. Zeus is, as usual, surrounded by various deities, but the unique detail is Hera’s position. She, like her husband, sits frontally on a throne and rests her feet on a footstool. She looks at Zeus while holding a sceptre in her left hand. She is depicted as the divine queen, matched in status and privileged position to Zeus. Unparalleled in the entire iconography of the birth of Athena, this image is probably inspired by the pedimental group discussed above.47 C. Thrones Juxtaposed with Other Types of Seats Up until now we have discussed images in which the throne(s) is the sole seat in a certain image, and thus its role as a marker of privileged status is consistent and easy to grasp. However, there are cases in which the throne is juxtaposed with other types of seats. In these, we should raise the question whether or not it automatically differentiates its sitter from the other sitting participants. Among the earliest instances of such a juxtaposition is that depicted on the François Vase, one of the most famous Attic vases found in Etruria. It is housed today in the Archaeological Museum of Florence and is dated to 570–560 BCE.48 Made by Ergotimos and painted by Kleitias, it is decorated from top to bottom with friezes of mythic figural scenes spreading across both sides of the vase. Four seats are depicted on the François Vase and are divided into two distinct types: a throne and a cube-shaped seat. In the scene of Hephaistos’ return to Olympos, Zeus (partly damaged) and Hera are shown sitting next to each other on elaborate thrones. These have straight legs, high ornate backs, and armrests. The ornate finial of the back of Hera’s throne is duck-shaped, while the one on Zeus’s throne is volute-shaped. Hera’s legs rest on a footstool.49 They are surrounded by other Olympian gods. From the right approaches a merry procession of Dionysos and his entourage leading Hephaistos back to Olympos. So far, Zeus and Hera present a similar image of the high-status divine couple as seen in the previous section. However, not far from them and right behind Athena, Ares is shown squatting on a low cube-shaped seat indicated only with a red outline (Fig. 8). His alert pose and plain seat could not be more different from the relaxed poses and magnificent thrones of Zeus and Hera. The juxtaposition in this case embodies the interrelations among the gods. Zeus and Hera are represented as king and queen, the other younger gods are standing, but the most hateful god – Ares – is squatting on a low simple seat. The fourth seat appears on the scene of Achilles’ ambush of Troilos, decorating the correlating frieze on Fig. 8   Black-Figure volute-krater from Chiusi, Italy, (the François Vase) by the other side of the vase.50 Ergotimos and Kleitias, detail, Museo Archeologico Etrusco, Florence, 4209 (public domain, photograph by Egisto Sani) In the centre, the protagonist is riding on horseback,

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Cassimatis 1984, 1023, no. 353; Malagardis 1997, 104, n. 80. Florence, Museo Archeologico Etrusco, 4209. ABV 76.1, 682; Para 29; Add² 21; BAPD 300000. From Chiusi, Italy. This scene is rather exceptional in the iconography of the return of Hephaistos. In most depictions of this narrative, the scenes focus on the procession of Hephaistos, Dionysos and his entourage, while the presence of Zeus and Hera is less accentuated. For a general iconographic discussion, see: Hermary 1988, 637–645, 652–654; Hedreen 2004, 40. Like the introduction scene, this visual version of the ambush is the most detailed one in the entire iconographical repertory of the scene. See: Carpenter 1991, 17.

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trying to escape Achilles. Polyxena runs ahead, and the whole group is moving rapidly towards the city of Troy. Next to the wall stands Antenor, while Priam is seated. The old king sits on a red cube-shaped seat labelled thakos (θᾶκος, a seat) (Fig. 9).51 He draws his left leg backwards, in an alert sitting position.52 Various scholars have pointed to a special connection between both friezes. Cornelia Isler-Kerényi claimed that being the only original images in the entire decoration of the krater, they are acutely complementary images.53 Mario Torelli considered both friezes – the Achilles/Troilos and the return of Hephaistos myths – as celebrating metis, on one side human, on the other divine. But while the former “leads to the ruin of the most valorous of heroes” (Achilles), the latter “will bring about the re-admittance to the divine realm”. In that respect they are unique in the iconographic program of the vase.54 The representation of both kings could not be more different and indeed supports the opposite messages. The different types of seats help Kleitias Fig. 9   Black-Figure volute-krater (the François vase) visualize this notion. While Zeus sits on an elabby Ergotimos and Kleitias, Detail, Museo Archeologico orate throne among other gods accompanied by Etrusco Florence, 4209 (public domain, photograph by Egisto Sani) his wife, doomed Priam sits on a plain cubeshaped seat, outside the walls of Troy. Another famous scene where a throne is juxtaposed with other types of seats is the Psychostasy (the Weighing of Souls) of Achilles and Memnon, depicted in the east frieze of the Siphnian treasury at Delphi, one of the most important and famous buildings in the history of Greek art.55 Dating to c. 525 BCE, the frieze was sculpted by an anonymous sculptor referred to in scholarship as Master B. The entire frieze is divided into two sections: on the left an assembly of gods and on the right a battle scene occur simultaneously. Both sections are composed in a symmetrical manner, centred around an axial point clearly emphasized by the figures’ change in direction. If we concentrate on the assembly of gods, we can see that they are arranged in two rows facing each other. Each row consists of four gods converging on the now-lost centre of the composition occupied by an additional god. Per Vinzenz Brinkmann, the left party included Eos, Aphrodite (?), Apollo, and Zeus. The right party included Thetis, Hera, Athena, and Poseidon (?). Hermes possibly occupied the centre of the composition. Another god, Ares is shown on the far left, next to, but

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For a discussion of the labels on the François vase, see: Wachter 1991. We should note that the verb θακέω applies to supplicants in several 5th century BCE texts. For example, Sophocles, Ajax, 1173. Perhaps this is another reason for the painter‘s decision to inscribe the word on the cubical seat. Beazley 1986, 28. This is the first appearance of Priam in Attic art. In addition, the presence of Priam in the pursuit scene itself is unusual. See: Neils 1994, 521. Isler-Kerényi 2007, 80–82. Torelli 2013, 94, 100, 102, chart 1. The subject of the frieze was controversial for years. Generally identified as a Trojan subject, it was argued that it depicts the battle over various heroes, such as Patroclos, Sarpedon, Antilochos (Picard – La Coste-Messelière 1928, 99–116. However, thanks to the study of Vinzenz Brinkmann, it is now generally agreed that the subject is the Psychostasy of Achilles and Memnon. See: Brinkmann 1985, 114–121. For images of the frieze, see: Brinkmann 1994, drawings 1, 5, 9.

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not part of the assembling gods. Thus, the divine mothers of Achilles and Memnon are depicted as pleading for the lives of their fighting sons. The entire assembly is shown sitting on various types of seats.56 The end figures of both parties – Ares on the left and Thetis on the right – sit on folding stools. Further towards the centre, the gods are sitting on perpendicular stools of various types.57 The centre of the composition, at present unfortunately fragmentary, consists of three figures: Hermes, flanked by Zeus on the left and (probably) Poseidon on the right. Zeus is sitting on an ornamented throne with a high back and decorated armrests, resting his feet on a shallow footstool. As long ago argued, his mirror figure, probably Poseidon, also sat on a throne, as indicated from the trace of a similar back seen next to the aegis of Athena. Hermes, the very central figure, sat on a perpendicular stool.58 What we have here are two groups of gods that mirror each other. The sculptor used the seats to enhance this feature. The leading figure in each group – a son of Kronos – is sitting on a throne. It indicates his importance, seniority, and privileged status among the gods. The other gods are sitting on simpler seats indicating their lesser status in comparison to that of the leading gods. This juxtaposition helps the viewer understand both the interrelation inside each group, and that they are equivalent groups, one supporting Achilles, the other supporting Memnon. In both cases, the throne is a visual sign of status, importance, and power. The figures who occupy it are the most important among the gods. Its presence helps the viewer understand the interrelations among them. In the following discussion, I will examine three vases that exhibit more complicated cases. The first is an amphora housed in the Louvre, attributed to the Leagros group.59 On Side A we see Apollo playing his kithara, sitting on a block facing right. In front of him sits his sister Artemis on an identical block. A palm tree dominates the centre of the composition, separating the two gods. Its presence indicates that the scene takes place on Delos.60 The choice of the same type of seat indicates the equal status of the twin gods. Side B is decorated with an analogous scene. Here too, the composition is dominated by a central palm tree. On the left, we see a standing goddess and next to her is Hermes sitting on a block. Facing him is another goddess, sitting on a throne. A deer stands in front of the tree. The subject of the scene is uncertain, but the goddesses have been putatively identified as standing Artemis and sitting Leto. I agree with this identification and would note that the use of the throne as opposed to a block here is the main, key feature. Leto, mother of Apollo and Artemis, is distinguished from the younger gods by means of the type of seat. Although Leto is less important in the Greek pantheon generally, here the throne defines her seniority as a divine mother. The second case is an amphora attributed to the Acheloos painter and housed in Munich.61 Here too the amphora is decorated with two analogous scenes, this time taking place in the underworld. In the centre Sisyphos is rolling the stone uphill. He is flanked by Persephone on the left and Hades on the right. On side A both gods sit on a rock, making them equal in status (Fig. 10). However, on side B we see on the left Persephone sitting on a throne equipped with animal feet and a swan-like finial, but on the right, Hades is sitting on a rock (Fig. 11). This is a very similar situation to the amphora from the Louvre. Can we apply the same interpretation to this amphora too? Does the fact that Hades is sitting on a rock indicate an inferior status to that of his wife? I hardly believe so. There is no doubt that Hades is the king of the underworld. However, as far as I know, when depicted seated in Attic black figure vases, he never occupies a throne, but rather

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Picard – La Coste-Messelière 1928, 107–108; Brinkmann 1994, 69–72. For typology, see: Richter 1966, 38–43. Brinkmann 1985, 116, fig. 85. Paris, Musée du Louvre, F249. ABV 372.166; Add² 99; BAPD 302161. CVA Paris Louvre 4, III.He, 28, pl. 50. 3–5. Munich, Antikensammlungen, J728. ABV 383.12; BAPD 302405.

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Fig. 10   Black-figure amphora attributed to the Acheloos painter (side A), Antikensammlungen, Munich, J728 (illustration: Hanny Lihi Lieber, after BAPD)

Fig. 11   Black-figure amphora attributed to the Acheloos painter (side B), Antikensammlungen, Munich, J728 (illustration: Hanny Lihi Lieber, after BAPD)

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sits on folding stools, blocks, and rocks.62 Rocks usually indicate outdoor scenes,63 but perhaps in this context they allude to the subterranean nature of the underworld. Persephone, by contrast, occupies a throne more frequently, as discussed above. We cannot say that Persephone in this particular group of Attic vase paintings, dating to the last decades of the 6th century BCE, was more important than her husband. Here, the presence of the throne does not signify importance, but rather – and perhaps – the fact that Persephone belongs to the world of the Olympian gods, where thrones are frequently used. The third and last example decorates a lekythos attributed to the Edinburgh painter and housed in Reggio Calabria.64 In the centre of the scene Dionysos and Ariadne are sitting side by side. Hermes is facing them, and they are flanked by dancing satyrs and maenads. Ariadne is sitting on a throne equipped with animal feet and a swan-like finial on its back. Dionysos, by contrast, is sitting on a folding stool. They are depicted as a divine couple, sitting close together, on the same level, and both are wearing ivy wreaths. They both preside over their entourage. Does the fact that Dionysos is sitting on a folding stool make him less important, inferior to his wife? Certainly not. As mentioned above, the folding stool, more than any other type of seat, sometimes replaces the throne. It is hard to explain this detail, and I would dare say that perhaps it was done for the sake of variation. In any case, in the eyes of this painter, throne and stool are interchangeable.65 They both express power and importance. These two last instances are examples of the fact that the throne was not essential for visualizing status and power.66 Rather, the sitting position itself was sufficient to visualize these notions. In these cases, the throne does not distinguish the most important figure, but instead acts as an optional seat among other possibilities. Conclusions The throne is a visual, material sign of high status and privileged position, of kingship. This is its prime function in any visual image. Even though not essential, it distinguishes the figure sitting on it as a majestic, dominant figure and serves as a tool to embody interrelation among the gods. The most frequent cases for this are its depictions as a single seat. In such situations the god or goddess that occupies it is the most important figure, presiding over the other participants. That is, each presides over his or her distinctive, well defined realm: Zeus over the Olympian gods, Dionysos over his entourage, Persephone in the underworld. This is true also of depictions of two thrones, where the painters (or sculptors) wished to depict a divine couple presiding together over others. Here too the most frequent couple is Zeus and Hera. As far as I know, the realms mentioned above are never mixed: in each there is one dominant figure, occasionally shown with his or her mate, who occupies the throne. This straightforward situation becomes more complex in images juxtaposing thrones with other types of seats. Some retain the clear hierarchy, in which the throne is reserved for the most important, high-status figure. However, in other cases this is not so. Although still signifying status and power, the type of seat may be due to artistic tradition or variation and not as a means of distinguishing the most important figure. These images attest to the fact that the throne was not a rigid visual category. The Greek artist had a plethora of options for embodying status and power.

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E.g. Hydria attributed to the Antimenes painter (Würzburg, Universität, Martin von Wagner Mus., L308. BAPD 320029); amphora attributed to Diosphos painter (New York, Metropolitan Museum, 41.162.178. BAPD 305534); amphora attributed to Acheloos painter (London, British Museum, B261. BAPD 302171). See: Lindner 1988, 386– 387, nos. 146, 147, 148 (‘Hades thronend’). Hurwit 1991, 43. Reggio Calabria, Museo Nazionale. BAPD 380851. See n. 13 above. See: Laurens – Lissarrague 1990, 59.

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Abbreviations ABV J. D. Beazley, Attic Black-figure Vase-painters (London 1956). Add² T. H. Carpenter – T. Mannack – M. Mendonca, Beazley Addenda. Additional References to ABV, ARV2 and Paralipomena. 2nd edition (Oxford 1989). ARV J. D. Beazley, Attic Red-figure Vase-painters. 2nd edition (London 1963). BAPD Beazley Archive Pottery Database. Online (last accessed 14. Aug. 2019). CVA Corpus Vasorum Antiquorum. Para J. D. Beazley, Paralipomena. Additions to ‘Attic Black-figure Vase-painters’ and to ‘Attic Redfigure Vase-painters’. 2nd edition (Oxford 1971).

References Andrianou 2009 D. Andrianou, The Furniture and Furnishings of Ancient Greek Houses and Tombs (New York 2009). Athenaeus Athenaeus, The Deipnosophists, with an English translation by Charles Burton Gulick, Loeb Classical Library 204 (Cambridge 1928). Beazley 1986 J. D. Beazley, The Development of Attic Black-figure (Berkeley 1986). Boardman 1990 J. Boardman, Herakles, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 5 (Zurich 1990) 1–192. Brinkmann 1985 V. Brinkmann, Die aufgemalten Namensbeischriften an Nord- und Ostfries des Siphnierschatzhauses, Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique 109, 1, 1985, 77–130. Brinkmann 1994 V. Brinkmann, Beobachtungen zum formalen Aufbau und zum Sinngehalt der Friese des Siphnierschatzhauses (Ennepetal 1994). Carpenter 1986 T. H. Carpenter, Dionysian Imagery in Archaic Greek Art. Its Development in Black-figure Vase Painting (Oxford 1986). Carpenter 1991 T. H. Carpenter, Art and Myth in Ancient Greece (London 1991). Cassimatis 1984 H. Cassimatis, Athena (section B1), Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 2 (Zurich 1984) 985–990, 1021– 1023. Curtis 1996 J. Curtis, Assyrian furniture. The archaeological evidence, in: G. Herrmann (ed.), The Furniture of Western Asia. Ancient and Traditional (Mainz 1996) 167–180.

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Deacy 2008 S. Deacy, Athena (London, New York 2008). Hedreen 2004 G. Hedreen, The return of Hephaistos. Dionysiac processional ritual and the creation of a visual narrative, The Journal of Hellenic Studies 124, 2004, 38–64. Hermary 1988 A. Hermary, Hephaistos, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 4 (Zurich 1988) 627–654. Hesiod Hesiod, The Homeric Hymns and Homerica, with an English translation by Hugh G. Evelyn-White, Loeb Classical Library 57 (Cambridge 1914). Hurwit 1991 J. M. Hurwit, The representation of nature in early Greek art, in: D. Buitron-Oliver (ed.), New Perspectives in Early Greek Art, Studies in the History of Art 32 (Washington 1991) 32–62. Hurwit 1999 J. M. Hurwit, The Athenian Acropolis. History, Mythology, and Archaeology from the Neolithic Era to the Present (Cambridge 1999). Isler-Kerényi 2007 C. Isler-Kerényi, Dionysos in Archaic Greece. An Understanding through Images, Religions in the Graeco-Roman World 160 (Leiden 2007). Knell 1965 H. Knell, Die Darstellung der Götterversammlung in der attischen Kunst des VI. und V. Jahrhunderts v. Chr. Eine Untersuchung zur Entwicklungsgeschichte des ‘Daseinsbildes’ (PhD Diss., Universität Freiburg 1965). Kossatz-Deissmann 1994 A. Kossatz-Deissmann, Semele, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 7 (Zurich 1994) 718–726. Kurtz 1989 D. C. Kurtz (ed.), Greek Vases. Lectures by J. D. Beazley (Oxford 1989). Kyrieleis 1969 H. Kyrieleis, Throne und Klinen. Studien zur Formgeschichte altorientalischer und griechischer Sitz- und Liegemöbel vorhellenistischer Zeit (Berlin 1969). Lapatin 2015 K. Lapatin, Luxus. The Sumptuous Arts of Greece and Rome (Los Angeles 2015). Laurens – Lissarrague 1990 A.-F. Laurens – F. Lissarrague, Entre Dieux, Mètis 5, 1–2, 1990, 53–73. Lindner 1988 R. Lindner, Hades, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 4 (Zurich 1988) 467–394. Malagardis 1997 N. Malagardis, Héra, la sans pareille ou l’épouse exclue? À travers l’image, in: J. de La Genière (ed.), Hera. Images, Espaces, Cultes. Actes du Colloque International du Centre de Recherches Archéologiques de l’Université de Lille III 1993 (Naples 1997) 93–111. Neils 1994 J. Neils, Priamos, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 7 (Zurich 1994) 507–522. Oakley 2013 J. H. Oakley, The Greek Vase. Art of the Story Teller (London 2013). Picard – La Coste-Messelière 1928 C. Picard – P. de La Coste-Messelière, Fouilles de Delphes 4.2: Monuments figurés, sculpture. Art archaique: les tresors ‘ionique’ (Paris 1928).

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Platt 2011 V. J. Platt, Facing the Gods. Epiphany and Representation in Graeco-Roman Art, Literature and Religion (Cambridge 2011). Richter 1966 G. M. A. Richter, The Furniture of the Greeks, Etruscans and Romans (London 1966). Robsjohn-Gibbings – Pullin 1963 T. H. Robsjohn-Gibbings – C. W. Pullin, Furniture of Classical Greece (New York 1963). Schefold 1992 K. Schefold, Gods and Heroes in Late Archaic Greek Art (Cambridge, New York 1992). Shapiro 1981 H. A. Shapiro, Courtship scenes in Attic vase-painting, American Journal of Archaeology 85, 2, 1981, 133–143. Shapiro 1989 H. A. Shapiro, Art and Cult under the Tyrants in Athens (Mainz 1989). Shapiro 1990 H. A. Shapiro, The eye of the beholder. Würzburg 309 again, Antike Kunst 33, 2, 1990, 83–92. Shapiro et al. 2013 H. A. Shapiro – M. Iozzo – A. Lezzi-Hafter (eds.), The François Vase. New Perspectives (Zurich 2013). Siebert 1990 G. Siebert, Hermes, Lexicon Iconographicum Mythologiae Classicae 5 (Zurich 1990) 285–387. Sparkes 1991 B. A. Sparkes, Greek Pottery. An Introduction (Manchester 1991). Stewart 1990 A. Stewart, Greek Sculpture. An Exploration (New Haven, London 1990). Torelli 2013 M. Torelli, The Destiny of the Hero. Toward a Structural Reading of the François Krater, in: Shapiro et al. 2013, 83–105. Wachter 1991 R. Wachter, The inscriptions on the François Vase, Museum Helveticum 48, 2, 1991, 86–113. Wanscher 1980 O. Wanscher, Sella Curulis. The Folding Stool. An Ancient Symbol of Dignity (Copenhagen 1980).

Thrones and Crowns: On the Regalia of the West Semitic Monarchy Aaron Koller 1 Abstract: Whereas the crown was a central icon of kingship in ancient Mesopotamia, West Semitic conceptions of kingship differed deeply from their Mesopotamian counterparts. In Iron Age Levantine cultures (including Aramean, Phoenician, and Israelite), the throne was a far more potent symbol of the monarchy than was the crown, as is reflected in the iconography, and especially in texts. Phoenician and Aramaic royal inscriptions, as well as biblical texts, show that the preeminent regalia of royalty in the region were not crowns, but thrones and “shoots,” or scepters. This paper draws on epigraphic, visual, and literary materials from the Levant, as well as comparative evidence not only from Mesopotamia, but also from Egypt and the Hittite world to emphasize the significance of the image of the throne in constructing the image of the monarch in the Levant. Keywords: royal inscriptions; Levant; kingship; thrones; Hebrew Bible

The goal of this paper is to draw attention to a difference between West Semitic and East Semitic depictions of the trappings of kingship. In brief, while Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Hittite and Persian sources speak of the crown as emblematic of the king, Levantine texts of the 2nd and 1st millennia BCE speak primarily of the throne and the ‘staff,’ which will be seen to be a flowering stick. Although the visual depictions of kings complicate this neat dichotomy, we will see that in texts from the Levant, including the Bible, the staff was a powerful symbol representing power and authority, primarily, though not exclusively, royal. Let us begin with some of the textual evidence from Old Aramaic inscriptions.2 The royal ‘authors’ of these texts often made reference to their ascension to the kingship, and the ways in which this is described can be valuable evidence. Some of the references are neutral in this regard; (l. 3),3 and Hazael reports, Zakkur, for example, states simply, (Tel Dan 4). But some of the other Aramean kings use a more interesting locution. In the inscription that Bar-Rakib, king of Sam’āl (Zincirli), wrote memorializing his father, Panamuwa II, in c. 730 BCE, he reports,

And I, Bar-Rakib b. Panamuwa, Because of the loyalty of my father and my own loyalty, My lord Tiglath-Pileser, king of Assyria seated me On the seat of my father, Panamuwa b. Bar-ṣur (KAI I. 215, lines 19–20).4 In Bar-Rakib’s own slightly later inscription, he proudly says,

1 2

3 4

Yeshiva University, New York, USA; [email protected]. It should be stated out the outset that this paper was written by a philologist, who has worked, with the guidance of colleagues and especially of Liat Naeh and an anonymous reviewer, to incorporate the available data from the visual arts. I have no doubt that despite the best efforts of Liat and others, there is more to add to this paper from the fields of art history and archaeology due to the shortcomings of the author, and I hope that the relevant specialists do so. I am also grateful to Alrun Gutow of the Staatliche Museen, Berlin, for his help in acquiring the images in Figures 1 and 2 below. For detailed philological commentary, cf. Brauner 1975. Translations of all texts in this paper, unless otherwise noted, are mine.

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Fig. 1   Detail of ivory inlay (c. 1400–1200 BCE), Megiddo (© The Israel Museum, Jerusalem, and the Israel Antiquities Authority, IAA 1938-780)

Because of the loyalty of my father and my own loyalty My lord Rakib-El and my lord Tiglath-Pileser seated me On the seat of my father (KAI I.216, lines 4–7). The notion that ‘sitting on the seat’ represents the assumption of kingship is widespread in the Northwest Semitic and especially Aramaic world, at least into the 1st millennium of the Common Era. An inscription from Tang-e Sarvak in southwestern Iran, in the Parthian empire, declares in an investiture scene: This is the statue of Worod, who is ascending to the throne, son of Bēl-duša…5 In the iconography of the monarchy from the Levant as well, the king is often (but not always) seated.6 One thinks, for instance, of the famous ivory from Megiddo, or the Egyptianizing ivory from Tell el-Farʻah South, both of which show the king seated and drinking from a small cup (Figs. 1–2).7 In the 1st millennium, the enthroned figure in the Samaria ivory was now joined by the seated figure at Rǝḥov.8 In other West Semitic texts from the Iron Age, we find that the imagery of sitting on the throne is combined with another motif: grasping the royal sceptre. Slightly earlier than Bar-Rakib’s

5 6

7

8

Altheim – Stiehl 1957, 90–93. Some examples are shown and discussed below. It should be reiterated, however, that my discussion here is primarily a textual one, and only secondarily relates to the visual realm. It is my impression that a full study of the art in various media can corroborate the conclusions reached on the basis of the texts, but many more artifacts would have to be discussed than can be addressed here. See, for instance, Feldman 2006, 123–124. On the Egyptianizing style, see: Bryan 1996, esp. 60–73. Indeed, even in the Middle Bronze Southern Levant, royal statuary shows the king sitting; see the example from Hazor discussed by Ornan 2012. Naeh 2015, esp. 85–88.

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Fig. 2   Detail of ivory inlay (c. 1300–1200 BCE), Tell el-Far’ah (© The Israel Museum, Jerusalem, and the Israel Antiquities Authority, IAA 1933-2537)

inscription, Panamuwa himself had expressed his thanks to Hadad in an inscription on the skirt of a statue of the god Hadad. There he expressed his rise to kingship in somewhat different language:

I also sat on the seat of my father And Hadad placed the sceptre of kingship in my hand (Hadad Inscription/KAI I.214 lines 8–9) , restored here, appears clearly earlier in the inscription, but the etyThe expression mology and meaning of the second word is unclear. (There are half a dozen attestations, but all in this one text.) Based on the context, as well as on parallels in Akkadian royal inscriptions, Hayim Tawil suggested translating the phrase as, ‘sceptre of kingship/dominion.’9 An etymology was suggested by Ron Brauner pointing to the Akkadian elēpu: ‘send forth shoots, flourish,’ thus ‘flourishing sceptre.’ The comparative evidence discussed here supports these suggestions. The same pairing of ‘seat’ and ‘sceptre’ is found in Aḥirom’s sarcophagus inscription, where he curses anyone who would open his sarcophagus with the curse: May the sceptre of his rule be stripped10/ May the seat of his kingship be overturned! (KAI I.1 line 2) As Matthew Suriano notes: “The curses [of the Aḥirom sarcophagus inscription] are primarily directed at symbols of royal power.”11 The staff or sceptre as the symbol of legitimate rule is found in the Bible as well. For example, Genesis 49:10 says, “The sceptre will not depart from Judah, nor the ruler’s staff from between his feet,” and the difficult text in Judges 5:14 ( ) seems to refer to ‘chiefs’ as ‘those bearing staffs.’ The significance of the image seems to derive from the metaphor of the plant as life and the king as guarantor of

9 10 11

Tawil 1974, 46–47. See also Greenfield 1971, 256; Greenfield 1987, 69. The precise translation is debated; Hoftijzer – Jongeling 1995, 393; Gevirtz 1961, esp. 147 n. 2; Lehmann 2005, 38. Suriano 2014, 101.

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Fig. 3   Broken stela of Bar-Rakib, king of Sam’āl (c. 730 BCE), Zincirli (© Staatliche Museen zu Berlin – Vorderasiatisches Museum, S 06581; photo: Olaf M. Teßmer)

that life.12 Other biblical texts related to the monarch too mention the staff or sceptre as the insignia of royalty.13 Returning to the world of visual images, both the Tell el-Farʻah and the Megiddo scenes show the same pairing; in both, despite their very different artistic styles, the king is shown sitting on his throne, drinking from a cup in his right hand and grasping a lotus flower in his left.14 From the Middle Bronze Age, cylinder seals show figures (sometimes standing) grasping a flowering staff.15 The combination of throne and staff is found in one broken image of Bar-Rakib (8th century BCE), while another stela of this monarch shows him seated, holding the flower (Figs. 3–4).16 The Ammonite statue of Yarih-‘ezer too shows the king holding a lotus flower.17 The trappings of the kingship in the Levant were quite constant; this lotus flower on a long stem is apparently the ḥoṭer referred to in the texts.18 As noted, according to Brauner, Panamuwa

12 13 14

15 16 17 18

Schmitt 2001, 80–82. See Psalms 2, 21, and 45, in addition to Isaiah 11, all discussed by Levin 2017, esp. 246–248. See the discussion in Ziffer 2002, 18–19, on the Megiddo ivories. In these ivories, the ruler is shown seated on a throne, holding a drinking bowl and a flower. Here and in other Levantine representations, the flower is an Egyptian lotus, which became the conventional flower in throne scenes, a motif that eventually was adopted in neo-Assyrian art. The banquet ivories from Tell el-Far‘ah (South) and Megiddo are the first known works of Canaanite art to define royalty by way of the symbolism of an enthroned figure holding a cup and a flower. In Akkadian and Ugaritic, and later in biblical Hebrew, the formulaic expression ‘throne and plant’ (or staff) stands for exercising kingship. The pictorial formula relays the same message. See also Ziffer 2005. Brandl 1996, 9–11; Teissier 1996, 221; Ziffer 2002, 17; Ben-Tor 2007, 148. For discussion, see Schmitt 2001, 17–21. Recent discussion in Berlejung 2017, esp. 170–174. See Ziffer 2014, 131.

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actually specifically mentions the ‘flourishing scepter.’ Thus, the ‘sceptre’ grasped by Iron Age Levantine kings was a flowering staff, which symbolized their rule. Within Israel, there are a few depictions of royal figures, but none are completely preserved.19 A small statue from Tel Rehov is missing its arms, head and legs.20 A drawing from 7th-century Ramat Rahel shows an apparently royal figure, seated on a throne, hands outstretched, but the drawing breaks off just at the wrists.21 According to Beck, Ziffer, Ornan and others, another royal image is found among the drawings at Kuntillet ‘Ajrud, presumably that of Joash or Jeroboam II of Israel.22 Fig. 4   Stela of Bar-Rakib, king of Sam’āl (c. 725 BCE), Zincirli Again the hands are missing, so (© Staatliche Museen zu Berlin – Vorderasiatisches Museum, VA Ziffer asks, “Did he hold something 02817; photo: Olaf M. Teßmer. For the text, see KAI 217) in his second hand? A staff? A cup? Perhaps he was lifting his hands in blessing?”23 This last option seems the least likely. If the depiction here were in keeping with Levantine traditions, then, as far as is known, the king would almost certainly have been holding a flowering staff. It seems likely that the biblical story of Aaron’s flourishing staff in Numbers 17 would then be a reflex of this imagery as well:

Moses placed the staffs before the Lord in the tent of the covenant law. The next day Moses entered the tent and saw that Aaron’s staff, which represented the tribe of Levi, had not only sprouted, but had budded, blossomed and produced almonds. There is a natural logic in the idea that whoever’s staff flowers is the rightful authority, since through the Late Bronze and Iron Ages, the flowering staff symbolized authority in the Levant. Thus, the fact that Aaron’s staff flowered was a recognizable symbol of his rightful rule. Normally, it is true, the authority thus symbolized was royal, but here it represented the elite status of Aaron in the religious realm. As we will also see below, the symbols of royalty and priesthood – within Israel at least – were similar and even sometimes interchangeable. We find idiomatic use of these images elsewhere in the Bible as well. The pairing of ‘sitting on the throne’ and ‘grasping a sceptre’ is found twice in Amos 1, in reference to Levantine kings:

I will cut off the Sitter from the Valley of Aven, and the Staff-holder from Bet ‘Eden (Amos 1:5).

19 20 21 22 23

Ziffer 2014, 138. Mazar 2007. See Schmitt 2001, 95–96; Ziffer 2014, 143. Beck 2000, esp. 180–181; Ziffer 2014, 148; Ornan 2015, esp. 47. Ziffer 2014, 148.

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I will cut off the Sitter from Ashdod, and the Staff-holder from Ashkelon (Amos 1:8). Most translations have here ‘the inhabitants of’ for (the King James version has ‘inhabitant’ , and in the singular), but some, such as the NIV, have ‘the king.’ The parallelism with the the fact that this locution is specifically used within the Aramean realm first, support the claim is ‘the one who prototypically sits,’ that is, the king, as it is indeed understood by a that the number of modern scholars.24 To this point we have therefore seen that the symbols of kingship in the Levant, from the 2nd millennium BCE all the way through the 1st millennium BCE, were the throne and the sceptre. As mentioned, in many of the visual images, there is also a ‘royal cup.’25 Although some of the depictions do show kings wearing headgear, none of the Levantine royal inscriptions mention being crowned or a literal coronation as a metonym for becoming king.26 It may well be that statuary and art better show us how kings actually dressed and presented themselves, but texts, and especially stereotyped and idiomatic texts, can show us what was felt to be most salient by the speakers of the language. The fact that no king says he ‘was crowned’ means that the crown was not a primary emblem of royalty in the Levant; the use of ‘to sit’ and ‘to grasp the sceptre,’ on the other hand, tell us that these were the prototypical emblems of the office. The same combination appears even as late as the Mishnah. The Mishnah (Sanhedrin 2:5) discusses rules that are meant to protect the honour of the king by forbidding anyone other than the king from using those objects that were meant to be special to the monarch:

One may not ride on his horse, or sit on his throne, or use his staff, and it is forbidden to see him naked, or when he is in the barbershop or the bathhouse, as it says, “Indeed, set a king upon yourself” (Deuteronomy 17:15) – that fear of him be upon you. This Roman-era text, composed at a time when there was no Jewish king, reflects on what needs to be unique to royal use, and singles out three items: horse, throne and sceptre. As we have seen, this list (with the exception of the horse) does reflect long-standing Levantine traditions of kingship. When we look outside the Levant, we find that headgear played a distinctive role in the trappings of the king, literarily and visually. Rather than engage in detailed discussions, I will refer only in brief to the relevant data. In Egypt crowns played a prominent role – the New Kingdom blue crown (ḫprt), and the more famous red (dšrt), white (ḥḏt), and double crowns, among others. From the earliest recorded Egyptian history, crowns symbolized the different roles of the king as ruler of Upper and Lower Egypt.27 In her survey of Egyptian crowns, Katja Goebs emphasizes the difficulty of separating icons of terrestrial kingship from divine imagery. Interestingly, the ‘Ba‘al with a thunderbolt’

24

25 26

27

See Paul 1991, 50–51. It is conceivable that this usage is found in the Song of Deborah, as well, in Judges 5:10: ; Schloen 1993, 25–26, translates the phrase ‫ ישבי על מדין‬as “who sit over Midian.” Mihăilă 2013, 121 n. 50, objects, writing: “The problem of the former rendering is that ‫ ישׁב על‬is not attested with the sense ‘rule’.” But since ‫ יושב‬elsewhere can apparently mean ‘the one who sits, i.e., the ruler,’ it is certainly possible that ‫ יושב על‬can bear that meaning, as well. For further discussion, see: Ornan 2012, 5, 11. I thank Liat Naeh for emphasizing this point in this context. See also below, n. 38, regarding words for headgear in Biblical Hebrew. Goebs 2008, provides a very thorough discussion of the red and white crowns in OK and MK funerary contexts. For a more general brief survey with bibliography, see: Goebs 2012.

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stela from Ugarit depicts the storm god holding a flowering branch; this too shows a homology of divine and human royal imagery.28 In Mesopotamia, there is a royal crown that in Sumerian is lexically distinguished from the headdress of the high priest and high priestess. Indeed, in the Mesopotamian world, the crown is an important part of the king’s regalia as early as the 3rd millennium BCE. William Hallo summarized the coronation ceremony as revolving around “blessings of relevant patron deities…[and,] in addition, involved the king’s assumption of the insignia of the office, or what may be called the regalia, including crown, scepter, [and] staff….”29 As Claus Ambos observes, “The basic ritual of the legitimation of power is the coronation.”30 In the script for the Assyrian coronation ceremony, we find that the crown plays a major role:31 [a-di ku-lu-li] a-na qaqqad šarri i-s[a-li-ú-ni lúšangû a-ki-a i-qa-b[i] ma-a ku-li-li ša qaqqadi-ka ma-a Aššur d[N]in-líl bēlē ša ku-lu-li-ka 1 ME šanāte li-i[p-p]i-ru-ka [While] he is setting [the headdress] on the head of the king, [the priest] says the following: “May Aššur and Ninlil, the lords of your headdress, cover you with the headdress for your head for a hundred years.” In fact, in Mesopotamia, instead of the West Semitic pairing of “throne and staff” found in Aḥirom, Hadad and Amos, among other texts, we find a triad of emblems: frequently in Akkadian royal inscriptions we encounter clauses such as ḫaṭṭa kussâ agâ ušsatmeḫanni, or “he (the god) handed to me scepter, throne, and crown.”32 The same triad is seen in the images. To take one example of many, the famous banquet scene of Aššurbanipal shows the king reclining on a royal couch, with the flowering staff in his left hand (as his right hand holds his cup), and distinctive headgear on his head. Interestingly, however, in the West Semitic Akkadian world, this expression is modified, and at Mari we find šarrūtum ḫaṭṭum u kussûm … and Zimrilim nadnat, meaning, “kingship, the scepter and the throne…were given to Zimrilim.” It seems likely that this modification of the Akkadian formula reflects West Semitic conceptions of the symbols of kingship. Looking to the north of the Levantine world, which is our focus, we have but meagre information regarding the Hittites. “Unfortunately,” writes Yakubovich, “no Hittite script of an inauguration ceremony has been identified so far in the royal archives of Hattusa.” In a ritual for a substitute king, however, we read: Behold, this one is the king! [I have bestowed] the title of kingship upon this one, I have clothed this one in the [garments] of kingship, and I have put the lubanni-cap on this one.33 Finally, within the Bible the royal culture of Persia looms very large, and in Persia the crown was the prototypical symbol of the king. The official headgear of the Achaemenids was the crenelated

28

29

30 31 32

33

See http://www.louvre.fr/en/oeuvre-notices/stela-depicting-storm-god-baal (last accessed 13 July 2019). I am indebted to an anonymous reviewer of this paper for this point. Hallo 1996, 199. The central role of the crown in Mesopotamian kingship was argued earlier by Hallo 1966, but see the counter arguments by Civil 1980. Hallo 1996, 197 also observed that Mesopotamian conceptions of kingship differ deeply from their West Semitic counterparts. Ambos 2017, 67. Transcription and translation from Machinist 2006, 158. The text was published in Müller 1937, 8–9. This example from Sargon; Winckler 1894, 2.1:35. As Ziffer 2002, 11–12, says, Mesopotamian kings have their ‘distinctive headgear.’ But as Ziffer further notes, there is obvious overlap between the Levantine and Mesopotamian images: Mesopotamian plaques, too, show the king holding a plant, “suggestive of a palm frond or shoot … In figurative terms, the palm frond or shoot (ḥoṭer in Hebrew) implied kingship”; Ziffer 2002, 13. Text cited by Yakubovich 2006, 124.

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crown, at least from Achaemenid times through the Sasanians. The coronation ritual of the Parthian kings centred on the physical placing of the crown on the head of the new king.34 In turn, local kings were crowned by the Parthian king of kings, and Josephus reports (Ant. 20:68) that the king of kings had to give permission to the local kings to wear the tiara upright.35 In the Persian-set book of Esther, the royal crown plays a major role. This is also the only book in which the noun ‫ כתר‬is attested,36 and the crown in Esther plays a prominent symbolic role, although on the head of the royal horse rather than on the royal monarch.37 It should be emphasized that though earlier Biblical Hebrew has numerous terms for headgear, including headgear worn by kings, none of the terms refers to something worn exclusively by the monarch.38 Other terms for ‘crown’ are also potentially instructive; the Persian word ‫ תָּג‬was borrowed by Aramaic and later by Hebrew;39 the Aramaic word ‫ כליל‬is first attested in P. Amherst 63, in Achaemenid times, and it is not sufficiently clear whether it is native to Aramaic or a loan from Akkadian. Thus in all the cultures – Egyptian, Hittite, Mesopotamian, and Persian – around the Levant in the 2nd and 1st millennia BCE, headgear played a central role in the presentation and iconography of the king. Only in the Levant is this not reflected in texts. There are hats of various types on some of the Levantine kings seen earlier in this presentation, but these hats are not distinctively royal, and the texts make no mention of these hats as part of what it means to become king. A word should be said about the biblical data. Von Rad points to the investiture of Joash as king as the single best example of what could be considered a “coronation” in the Hebrew Bible:40 .‫ֹאמרּו יְ חִ י הַ ּמֶ לְֶך‬ ְ ‫כָף ַוּי‬-‫הָ עֵדּות ַוּי ְַמלִ כּו אֹ תֹו וַּיִ ְמׁשָ חֻהּו ַוּיַּכּו‬-‫הַ ֵּנזֶר וְ אֶ ת‬-‫הַ ּמֶ לְֶך וַּיִ ּתֵ ן ָעלָיו אֶ ת‬-‫ּבֶ ן‬-‫וַּיֹוצִ א אֶ ת‬ He [Jehoiada] brought out the son of the king, and placed on him the nēzer and the ‘ēdūt, and they proclaimed him king, anointing him and clapping, and they said, “Long live the king!” (2 Kings 11:12). The identity of the nēzer and ‘ēdūt are unfortunately not known. Yeivin argues that ‘ēdūt here is merely homonymous with the common word for testimony, and that in fact it means ‘ornament.’ Von Rad, on the other hand, thinks that it is a ‘royal protocol,’ for which he finds Egyptian precedent; he therefore concludes that “the diadem and the protocol were the two items of sacral and royal insignia, conferment of which constituted the essential act of coronation.”41 The nēzer, on the other hand, is relatively easy to identify; it seems to be a metal diadem that could be worn over a cloth (called a miṣnefet). The only other narrative in the Bible in which the nēzer is associated with a monarch lies in 1 Samuel 1, where the Amalekite brings Saul’s nēzer to David. (It does seem strange that a king would wear his diadem to battle.) Two royal psalms also make this association:

34 35 36 37

38 39

40 41

See Wiesehofer 2001, 137, quoting Plutarch; see also Sarkhosh-Curtis 2006, citing classical and Armenian sources. For more on Persian crowns, see Koller 2012, 240–243. See Salvesen 1999, 35–46. For the possibility that the crown was on a human head, based on a retroverted Persian, despite the unambiguous Hebrew (‫)ואשר נִתן כתר מלכות בראשו‬, see Wechsler 1999, 183–185. It should be noted that Iranists are prepared to accept the testimony of the biblical book regarding the wearing of the crown by people other than the king: “Biblical testimony relates a tradition of gifting in the Achaemenid Empire whereby the king might offer a royal crown and robes to an honored and loyal friend. It is possible that the inclusion of the crown on the royal name seals (which, as we now know, were used by administrators at the court) was a reference to this honor having been bestowed upon these administrators. In this case, the crown becomes a reference to the symbolic potential or reality of a non-king acquiring an attribute of kingship as proof of his status as part of the collective identity of the ‘Persian Man’.” See Garrison – Cool Root 2001, 57. See Yeivin 1950; Salvesen 1998. It was borrowed into Arabic, as well. There is a ḥadith that reports in the name of the prophet, al-‘amā’imu tījānu l-‘arabi “the turbans are the crowns of the Arabs.” For a detailed study of this ḥadith, see: Kister 2000. See: Von Rad 1947, 211–216; translated in Von Rad 2005, 167–173. Von Rad 2005, 171.

Thrones and Crowns: On the Regalia of the West Semitic Monarchy

131

., ‫ֵאַרתָּ ה‬ ְ ‫ נ‬/ ְ‫מְשׁי ִ ֶחך‬-‫ הִתְ ַעּב ְַרתָּ עִם‬,‫ִח ַלּלְתָּ לאָ ֶָרץ נִזְרֹו ּבְרי ִת ַעבְדּ� ְואַתָּ ה זָנַחְתָּ וַתִּ מְאָס‬ But you have rejected, you have spurned, you have raged against your anointed / You have renounced the covenant with your servant, desecrating his diadem to the ground (Psalm 89:40). .‫ ְו ָעלָיו י ָצי ִץ נִזְרֹו שָׁם צְמי ִ ַח ק ֶֶרן לְדָ וִד‬,‫ אֹויְבָיו אַלְּבי ִשׁ ּבֹשֶׁת‬/ ִ ‫ע ַָרכְתּי ִ נֵר ִלמְשׁי ִחי‬, There I will grow the horn of David, set up a lamp for my anointed one / his enemies I will garb in shame, but on him shall his diadem flower (Psalm 132:17–18).42 More common than an association with royalty, however, is its connection to the priesthood. In the latter parts of Exodus as well as in Leviticus, priests wear alternately a nēzer and a ṣīṣ.43 The king and the priest, therefore, wore diadems, and these were not specifically royal artefacts. To summarize in brief, the main contention of this paper can be stated succinctly: in the Egyptian, Hittite, Mesopotamian and Persian worlds, ‘coronation’ is an appropriate word for the ascension of the king as symbolic headgear played a central role in the regalia of the monarchy in these cultures. In West Semitic Levantine cultures, however, the headgear of the king was not a major part of the symbolic repertoire of the monarchy; instead, the paradigmatic emblems were the throne and the staff, and in art, also the drinking bowl. Thus, while in English, ‘the crown’ stands for the monarch, this was not the case in the ancient Levant. In fact, here ‘the staff’ played the same metonymous role. To conclude, I would like to suggest one connection that seems to be worth consideration: it is tempting to connect the absence of ceremonial headgear to the presence of anointment, a phenomenon found in West Semitic cultures in Mari, Emar, and Israel, but absent from Egypt and Mesopotamia. This requires further thought, and ideally, further data. Abbreviations KAI H. Donner – W. Röllig, Kanaanäische und aramäische Inschriften, 5th revised edition (Wiesbaden 2002).

References Altheim – Stiehl 1957 F. Altheim – R. Stiehl, Supplementum Aramaicum. Aramäisches aus Iran. Anhang. Das Jahr Zarathustras (BadenBaden 1957). Ambos 2017 C. Ambos, Rituale der Herrschaftslegitimation babylonischer und assyrischer Könige, in: Levin – Müller 2017, 67–76. Beck 2000 P. Beck, The art of Palestine during the Iron Age II. Local traditions and external influences (10th–8th centuries BCE), in: C. Uehlinger (ed.), Images as Media. Sources for the Cultural History of the Near East and the Eastern Mediterranean (1st millennium BCE), Orbicus Biblicus et Orientalis 175 (Fribourg, Göttingen 2000) 166–183. Ben-Tor 2007 D. Ben-Tor, Scarabs, Chronology, and Interconnections. Egypt and Palestine in the Second Intermediate Period, Orbis Biblicus et Orientalis, Series Archaeologica 27 (Fribourg, Göttingen 2007).

42

43

The verb ‫ יציץ‬here is usually translated “to shine”; I owe the suggestion of connecting it to the “flowering” motif discussed above to Simeon Chavel. Milgrom argued that the two words were in fact synonymous, based primarily on comparison of Exod 28:36 (‫טהור‬ ‫ )ציץ זהב‬with Exod 29:6 (‫)נזר הקדש‬: Milgrom 1991, 512. The Egyptian etymology for the word suggested by Görg 1977a and especially Görg 1977b from nśr.t ‘flame’ or nzr.t ‘snake goddess’, is phonologically problematic.

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Berlejung 2017 A. Berlejung, Dimensionen der Herrschaftslegitimität. Ikonographische Aspekte königlicher Selbstdarstellung in den Kulturen der südlichen Levante der Eisenzeit anhand der Bildwerke van Balu‘a, Yarih-‘ezer und Askalon, in: Levin – Müller 2017, 147–187. Brandl 1996 B. Brandl, A ‘Hyksos’ scarab and a Syrian cylinder seal from a burial cave at Moẓa ‘Illit, ‘Atiqot 29, 1996, 9–14. Brauner 1975 R. A. Brauner, The old Aramaic Zakir. A inscription and comparative Semitic lexicography, Gratz College Annual of Jewish Studies 4, 1975, 9–27. Bryan 1996 B. M. Bryan, Art, empire and the end of the Late Bronze Age, in: J. S. Cooper – G. M. Schwartz (eds.), The Study of the Ancient Near East in the 21st Century. The William Foxwell Albright Centennial Conference (Winona Lake 1996) 33–79. Civil 1980 M. Civil, Les limites de l’information textuelle, in: M.-T. Barrelet (ed.), L’archéologie de l’Iraq du debut de l’époque néolitique à 333 avant notre ère. Perspectives et limites de l’interprétation anthropologique des documents (Paris 1980) 225–232. Feldman 2006 M. H. Feldman, Diplomacy by Design. Luxury Arts and an International Style in the Ancient Near East. 1400–1200 BCE (Chicago 2006). Garrison – Cool Root 2001 M. B. Garrison – M. Cool Root, Seals on the Persepolis Fortification Tablets Volume 1. Images of Heroic Encounter. Part 1: Text, Oriental Institute Publications 117 (Chicago 2001). Gervitz 1961 S. Gevirtz, West-Semitic curses and the problem of the origins of Hebrew law, Vetus Testamentum 11, 2, 1961, 137– 158. Goebs 2008 K. Goebs, Crowns in Early Egyptian Funerary Literature. Royalty, Rebirth, and Destruction (Oxford 2008). Goebs 2012 K. Goebs, Crowns, Egyptian, in: R. S. Bagnall – K. Brodersen – C. B. Champion – A. Erskine – S. R. Huebner (eds.), The Encyclopedia of Ancient History (Malden 2012), 1847–1849. Görg 1977a M. Görg, Die Kopfbedeckung des Hohenpriesters, Biblische Notizen 3, 1977, 24–26. Görg 1977b M. Görg, Weiteres zu nzr (‘Diadem’), Biblische Notizen 4, 1977, 7–8. Greenfield 1971 J. C. Greenfield, Scripture and inscription. The literary and rhetorical element in some early Phoenician inscriptions, in: H. Goedicke (ed.), Near Eastern Studies in Honor of William Foxwell Albright (Baltimore, London 1971) 253–268. Greenfield 1987 J. C. Greenfield, Aspects of Aramean religion, in: P. D. Miller Jr. – P. D. Hanson – S. Dean McBride (eds.), Ancient Israelite Religion. Essays in Honor of Frank Moore Cross (Philadelphia 1987) 67–78. Hallo 1966 W. W. Hallo, The coronation of Ur-Nammu, Journal of Cuneiform Studies 20, 3–4, 1966, 133–141. Hallo 1996 W. W. Hallo, Origins. The Ancient Near Eastern Background of Some Modern Western Institutions, Studies in the History and Culture of the Ancient Near East 6 (Leiden, New York, Köln 1996).

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Hoftijzer – Jongeling 1995 J. Hoftijzer – K. Jongeling, Dictionary of the North-west Semitic Inscriptions, Handbuch der Orientalistik. Erste Abteilung. Der Nahe und Mittlere Osten, 21, 1–2 (Leiden 1995). Kister 2000 M. J. Kister, “The crowns of this community”… Some notes on the turban in the Muslim tradition, Jerusalem Studies in Arabic and Islam 24, 2000, 217–245. Koller 2012 A. Koller, Learning from the Tāg. On a Persian word for ‘Crown’ in Jewish Aramaic, in: S. Secunda – S. Fine (eds.), Shoshannat Yaakov. Jewish and Iranian Studies in Honor of Yaakov Elman (Leiden 2012) 237–245. Lehmann 2005 R. G. Lehmann, Die Inschrift(en) des Aḥīrōm-Sarkophags und die Schachtinschrift des Grabes V in Jbeil (Byblos), Dynastensarkophage mit szenischen Reliefs aus Byblos und Zypern 1, 2 (Mainz 2005). Levin 2017 C. Levin, Das Königsritual in Israel and Juda, in: Levin –Müller 2017, 231–260. Levin – Müller 2017 C. Levin – R. Müller (eds.), Herrschaftslegitimation in vorderorientalischen Reichen der Eisenzeit, Orientalische Religionen in der Antike 21 (Tübingen 2017). Machinist 2006 P. Machinist, Kingship and divinity in imperial Assyria, in: G. Beckman – T. J. Lewis (eds.), Text, Artifact and Image. Revealing Ancient Israelite Religion, Brown Judaic Studies 346 (Providence 2006) 152–188. Mazar 2007 A. Mazar, An ivory statuette depicting an enthroned figure from Tel Rehov, in: S. Bickel – S. Schroer – R. Schurte, – C. Uehlinger (eds.), Images as Sources. Studies on Ancient Near Eastern Artefacts and the Bible Inspired by the Work of Othmar Keel (Fribourg, Göttingen 2007) 101–110. Mihăilă 2013 A. Mihăilă, The Holy War in the Book of Judges. Some remarks on the song of Deborah, in: A. Gafton – S. Guia – I. Milică (eds.), Lucrările Conferinţei Nationale, Text și Discurs Religios 5 (Iași 2013) 109–126. Milgrom 1991 J. Milgrom, Leviticus 1–16, Anchor Bible 3 (New York 1991). Müller 1937 K. F. Müller, Das assyrische Ritual Teil I. Texte zum assyrischen Königsritual, Mitteilungen der vorderasiatisch-aegyptischen Gesellschaft 41, 3 (Leipzig 1937). Naeh 2015 L. Naeh, In search of identity. The contribution of recent finds to our understanding of Iron Age ivory objects in the material culture of the Southern Levant, Altorientalische Forschungen 42, 1, 2015, 80–96. Ornan 2012 T. Ornan, The long life of a dead king. A bronze statue from Hazor in its ancient Near Eastern context, Bulletin of the American Schools of Oriental Research 366, 2012, 1–24. Ornan 2015 T. Ornan, ‫הציורים מכֻּנתילת עג'רוד‬, in: S. Ahituv – E. Eshel – Z. Meshel – T. Ornan (eds.), To YHWH of Teiman and his Ashera. The Inscriptions and Drawings from Kuntillet ‘Ajrud (“Horvat Teman”) in Sinai (Jerusalem 2015) 44–68. Paul 1991 S. M. Paul, Amos. A Commentary on the Book of Amos, Hermenia (Minneapolis 1991). Salvesen 1998 A. Salvesen, The trappings of royalty in ancient Hebrew, in: J. Day (ed.), King and Messiah in Israel and the Ancient Near East. Proceedings of the Oxford Old Testament Seminar, Journal for the Study of the Old Testament, Supplement series 270 (Sheffield 1998) 119–141.

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Salvesen 1999 A. Salvesen, ‫( ֶכּתֶר‬Esther 1:11; 2:17; 6:8). Something to do with a camel?, Journal of Semitic Studies 44, 1999, 35–46. Sarkhosh-Curtis 2006 V. Sarkhosh-Curtis, Investiture. The Parthian Period, Encyclopaedia Iranica 13, 2006, 182–184. Online (last access 13 July 2019). Schloen 1993 J. D. Schloen, Caravans, Kenites, and casus belli. Enmity and alliance in the Song of Deborah, Catholic Biblical Quarterly 55, 3, 1993, 18–38. Schmitt 2001 R. Schmitt, Bildhafte Herrschaftsrepräsentation im eisenzeitlichen Israel, Alter Orient und Altes Testament 283 (Münster 2001). Suriano 2014 M. J. Suriano, The historicality of the king. An exercise in reading royal inscriptions from the ancient Levant, Journal of Ancient Near Eastern History 1, 2014, 95–108. Tawil 1974 H. Tawil, Some literary elements in the opening sections of the Hadad, Zākir, and the Nērab II inscriptions in the light of East and West Semitic royal inscriptions, Orientalia 43, 1974, 40–65. Teissier 1996 B. Teissier, Egyptian Iconography on Syro-Palestinian Cylinder Seals of the Middle Bronze Age, Orbicus Biblicus et Orientalis, Series Archaeologica 11 (Fribourg, Göttingen 1996). Von Rad 1947 G. von Rad, Das judäische Königsritual, Theologische Literaturzeitung 72, 4, 1947, 211–216. Von Rad 2005 G. von Rad, From Genesis to Chronicles. Explorations in Old Testament Theology (Minneapolis 2005). Wechsler 1999 M. G. Wechsler, ‫ואשר נתן כתר מלכות בראשו )אסתר ו' ח( לאור פרסית‬, Beit Mikra 44, 1999, 183–185. Wiesehofer 2001 J. Wiesehofer, Ancient Persia. From 550 BC to 650 AD (London, New York 2001). Winckler 1894 H. Winckler, Sammlung von Keilschrifttexten (Leipzig 1894). Yakubovich 2006 I. Yakubovich, Were Hittite kings divinely anointed? A palaic invocation to the Sun-God and its significance for Hittite religion, Journal of Ancient Near Eastern Religions 5, 1, 2006, 107–137. Yeivin 1950 I. Yeivin, ‫ עטרה‬,‫כתר‬, Encyclopaedia Biblica / ‫ אנציקלופדיה מקראית‬4 (Jerusalem 1950) 399–404. Ziffer 2002 I. Ziffer, Symbols of royalty in Canaanite Art in the third and second Millennia B.C.E., Bulletin of the Israeli Academic Center in Cairo 25, 2002, 11–20. Ziffer 2005 I. Ziffer, From Acemhöyük to Megiddo. The banquet scene in the art of the Levant in the second Millennium BCE, Tel Aviv 32, 2, 2005, 133–167. Ziffer 2014 I. Ziffer, ‫ מלך ישראל באמנות‬:(19 ‫[' )שמ"א ח‬...]‫ והיינו גם אנחנו ככל הגוים‬.‫[מלך יהיה עלינו‬...]', Shnaton – An Annual for Biblical and Ancient Near Eastern Studies 23, 2014, 125–154.

The Throne of King Midas Elizabeth Simpson 1 “It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see.” Henry David Thoreau Abstract: The throne that the Phrygian King Midas dedicated in the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi was one of the most famous thrones of antiquity, mentioned by the Greek Historian Herodotus, who declared it “well worth seeing.” Many have speculated as to its appearance, which can perhaps be imagined in light of the collection of fine wooden furniture excavated at the site of Gordion (Turkey), the capital of the ancient kingdom of Phrygia. Intact examples of Phrygian royal furniture of the dynasty of Midas were excavated from three early tumulus burials at Gordion (8th century BCE), and additional furniture fragments were recovered from a palatial building on the City Mound. This furniture is highly unusual, featuring abstracted forms and geometric patterns representing the Phrygian goddess Matar as well as auspicious signs and fertility symbols. A recent theory suggests that a fine ivory figure of a man and lion found in a votive deposit at Delphi may have belonged to Midas’s throne. The present article surveys the evidence, which weighs against that theory. Keywords: Assyria; Delphi; Gordion furniture; ivory; Midas; Phrygia; Toprakkale

One of the most famous thrones of antiquity was that of the Phrygian King Midas, who ruled from his capital at Gordion in the 8th century BCE. The throne was dedicated in the sanctuary of Apollo at Delphi by the famous king, who was reportedly the first foreigner to make an offering there. Midas’s throne was noted in the 5th century BCE by the Greek historian Herodotus, who says it was “well worth seeing” but does not describe.2 This tantalizing comment was in the minds of the excavators of Gordion (now in central Turkey), where actual royal furniture was found in three burial mounds dating to the 8th century BCE. Preserved from these tumulus burials – Tumulus MM, P, and W – are wooden tables, serving stands, stools, footstools, a chair, a log coffin, and many other types of wooden objects. The furniture from Tumulus MM, as research has shown, was used for a funeral ceremony held before the interment, and then placed in the tomb along with the king (Fig. 1). Tumulus MM, the largest burial mound at Gordion, is thought to be the tomb of Gordias, father of Midas, or perhaps the tomb of Midas himself. Either way, the furniture is associated with King Midas: if the tomb was that of his father, Midas surely provided the grave goods and officiated at the funeral.3 While no royal throne was found at Gordion – let alone a throne of King Midas – the collection does provide a clear understanding of the furniture styles and ornamentation favoured by Midas and the Phrygian dynasty. A recent theory has proposed that an exquisite ivory figure of a man and lion known as the ‘lion tamer,’ excavated in 1939 in the sanctuary at Delphi, may have been part of the throne that Midas dedicated there (Fig. 2). This idea, first suggested by Keith DeVries and taken up by C. Brian Rose, was published in 2012, generating excitement as well as doubt.4 Indeed it would be wonderful to have recovered a piece of Midas’s throne. However, nothing like this ivory figure has been found at Gordion, in association with furniture or otherwise. One may ask, then, whether this theory is grounded in fact or merely hypothetical. The furniture excavated from the royal tumulus burials at Gordion, along with some fragmentary remains from the City Mound, suggests the latter. Nonetheless, the idea has gained currency, and this has led to a scholarly controversy (‘the Midas throne row’).5 It is therefore useful to address the subject and reappraise the new theory in light of the evidence.

1 2 3 4

5

Bard Graduate Center, New York, USA; [email protected]. Herodotus, 1.14. Simpson 2001; Simpson 2010, 132–134. DeVries – Rose 2012. C. Brian Rose compiled the article, which is based on a paper given by Keith DeVries in 2002 at the annual meeting of the Archaeological Institute of America. DeVries’s thesis, although highly conjectural, was publicized by the University of Pennsylvania Museum at the time, resulting in several news stories in the New York Times and elsewhere (Wilford 2002). DeVries died in 2006 before publishing his theory. Mazur 2016.

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Fig. 1   Reconstruction of the funerary banquet held before Tumulus MM, Gordion, prior to the burial of the king. Painting by Greg Harlin (by permission of E. Simpson and G. Harlin)

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137

The Delphi Lion Tamer The ivory lion tamer has been reconstructed from fragments and is burnt, giving it a dark grey colour. The figure stands 22.5cm tall and appears to be sculpted in the round, although the back is flat below the finely finished hair. In the centre of the back, above the waist, is a shallow rectangular mortise (cutting) for attachment to some other object (Fig. 2, right). A tenon had once fit in the mortise, secured by a pin (now missing) running through the figure from side to side. The mortise is not deep enough for a structural joint, so the figure must have been a kind of appliqué fixed to a back surface. The man holds a spear in his right hand and rests his left hand on the lion’s head. The group stands on a short base composed of a thin strip with incised geometric decoration supported by a pedestal with pendant leaves. There was a mortise in the base, but not in the top of the head or sides of the figure. It is thus unclear how the ivory had originally functioned, as will be shown.6 The composition has been associated with the ‘Master of Animals,’ a god or hero who is shown accompanied by or dominating a wild animal, a theme found throughout the Near East and Aegean.7 The date, style, and place of manufacture of the group have not been determined with certainty, although many scholars have tried. Pierre Amandry, who excavated the ivory, suggested an East Greek/Anatolian origin (7th century BCE), citing parallels from Ephesus and Samos; R. D. Barnett thought it might be from Rhodes.8 Other possibilities include Lydia, Phrygia, or elsewhere in Asia Minor.

Fig. 2   Ivory statuette (‘lion tamer’), Delphi Archaeological Museum, inv. 9912 (after Amandry 1991, fig. 10, three views at right; by permission of the Hellenic Ministry of Culture and Sports/Archaeological Receipts Fund)

6

7 8

DeVries – Rose 2012, 192–193, fig. 13. The DeVries – Rose article does not mention the transverse pin, and the authors state that there was no mortise in the base (p. 193). However, both are described in Amandry 1991, 202 and can be seen in his fig. 10 (here Fig. 2, right). For instance, Villing 2014. Amandry 1944–1945, 153–163; Barnett 1948, 16–17; and see DeVries – Rose 2012, 189–190.

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The lion tamer was brought to New York in 2014 for an impressive exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, “Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age.”9 Listed in the catalogue, correctly, as having no exact parallels, it is then incorrectly assigned ‘convincingly’ to a Phrygian workshop, based on the 2012 DeVries – Rose article.10 In 2016, the fragile ivory again travelled to the United States, for inclusion in the University of Pennsylvania Museum exhibition, “The Golden Age of King Midas,” where it was displayed together with numerous artefacts from Gordion and other Near Eastern sites. In the exhibition catalogue, the dedication of Midas at Delphi is called “a wood and ivory throne,” and the ivory statuette is said to be Phrygian in style, and apparently a part of that throne.11 This idea is developed fully in the 2012 DeVries – Rose article, which reviews the literature on the lion tamer, and cites parallels for the decoration on the base, the lion, and the figure of the man himself. Not everyone agrees that the work is Phrygian, however, as indicated in a recent article by Oscar Muscarella, who takes exception to the parallels cited in DeVries – Rose 2012.12 Muscarella’s doubts can be confirmed and even augmented. DeVries and Rose cite a small wooden lion from Tumulus P at Gordion as comparable to the lion of the Delphi ivory, based primarily on the shape of the ear (‘ivy ear’). But the Tumulus P lion does not look like the ivory lion, with different markings on the legs, body, and head, as well as completely different paws, which, for the wooden lion, take the form of abstract, scroll-like feet.13 According to DeVries and Rose, an ‘X’ mark on the shoulder of the Delphi lion recalls a similar marking on a lion depicted on a Phrygian stone orthostat from Ankara. Yes it does, but the ‘X’ is not an indicator of Phrygian work, as the authors acknowledge, since it is found on the shoulders of lions from the non-Phrygian sites of Zincirli and Sakçegözü in southeastern Turkey.14 The same kinds of problems arise with the parallels cited for the lion tamer himself, which DeVries and Rose compare to three statuettes from Gordion: an ivory female who does not resemble the male figure at all, and two fragmentary stone statuettes that are vastly different in style from the Delphi figure. An ivory ‘priest’ from Tumulus D at Bayındır is brought in by the authors as well, but it too differs in many respects from the lion tamer.15 Finally, the incised design on the base strip is considered. This takes the form of a battlement pattern with squares extending from the top and bottom borders, fitted into the recesses of the battlement.16 Offered as parallels are designs on two post-Hittite sherds from Boğazköy, which do resemble the pattern on the base of the ivory, although not exactly. The battlement with inset elements is found outside of Phrygia, as far afield as Geometric Greece.17 Other ‘inner Anatolian’ parallels are mentioned by the authors: squares within squares (Gordion), four squares in a ‘windowpane format’ (Bayındır and Gordion), and dotted squares (Ivriz and Gordion). While these patterns are indeed found in inner Anatolia, the dotted square and ‘windowpane’ designs are among the most widespread of all geometric ornament, forming the basis for ‘genealogical patterns’ and their variants that span the globe and date back to the dawn of symbolic rendering.18

9 10

11

12 13

14

15 16 17 18

Aruz et al. 2014. Psalti 2014; DeVries – Rose 2012, 190: ‘The question of provenance has now been clarified: recent discoveries near Lycian Elmalı and further research on excavated material at other sites, especially Gordion, enable us to identify the figurine as Anatolian, and specifically Phrygian.’ Rose – Darbyshire 2016, 5–6, 153. “The dedication in question was a wood and ivory throne, of which a piece appears to have been discovered at Delphi near the site where Herodotus said it was located; we include it in the exhibition by permission of the Greek Ministry of Culture…” (p. 5). Muscarella 2016. DeVries – Rose 2012, 191, fig. 13.4; Muscarella 2016, 186, fig. 5. The photo of the lion in DeVries – Rose 2012 shows an early reconstruction, in which the legs are incorrectly restored. Akurgal 1968, figs. 13–15; DeVries – Rose 2012, 191. For a discussion of the shoulder ornament on Near Eastern lions, see: Kantor 1947. For a related discussion of ‘joint marks,’ see: Schuster – Carpenter 1996, 136–145. DeVries – Rose 2012, 192–193, figs. 13.12–13.15. DeVries – Rose 2012, 191–192, fig. 13.3d; Schiering 2003, figs. 4–6. Arias – Hirmer 1962, pl. 2. Schuster – Carpenter 1996; Simpson 2010, 48–56.

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The Delphi lion tamer was discovered in a votive pit just south of the portico of the Athenians and some distance to the west of the (apparent location of the) Corinthian Treasury, where the throne of King Midas was on view at the time of Herodotus.19 This find spot suggested to DeVries and Rose that the ivory may originally have been in the treasury. However, numerous items were found in this and a second, adjacent pit, dating from the 8th through the 5th centuries BCE, such as pieces of ivory plaques, ceramics, bronze and iron artefacts including weapons, and fragments of chryselephantine statues. The diverse contents had been through a fire and then ritually buried, apparently in the late 5th century BCE.20 These remains could have come from any part of the sanctuary; there is no indication from the archaeological context of the lion tamer that he or any other item in the pits had once been kept in the Corinthian Treasury. Thrones with Figures Whatever the origin of the Delphi ivory figure, could it have come from a throne? DeVries and Rose believed that the lion tamer was a furniture attachment, due to the mortise cut into the figure’s back, and it is called a ‘throne fragment’ in the 2016 exhibition catalogue.’21 Thrones incorporating such sculpture are indeed known from antiquity. Figures of heroes or deities occur on furniture shown on Assyrian reliefs, which depict a variety of tables, stands, thrones, footstools, and beds belonging to the rulers.22 The reliefs suggest that Assyrian royal thrones may have developed from backless stools (9th century BCE) to elaborate high-backed chairs (8th and 7th centuries BCE), featuring standing figures as supporting elements. Some of the finest Assyrian furniture is shown on the reliefs from the Palace of Sargon II at Khorsabad. Sargon II (r. 721–705 BCE) was a contemporary of King Midas. A relief from Façade L (now lost) depicts an elaborate Fig. 3   Relief from the palace of Sargon II, Khorsabad, throne carried by two attendants: standing figIraq. Façade L, Relief 28 (after Botta – Flandin 1849, ures hold up the seat, small figures support the pl. 18) armrest on their heads, and a tall figure is part of the backrest (Fig. 3).23 To judge from the scale of the throne in this depiction, the standing figure on the backrest was about the same size as the Delphi lion tamer.

19

20 21 22 23

Herodotus, 1.14. Six gold bowls dedicated by the Lydian King Gyges were kept in the Treasury of the Corinthians, and the throne of Midas was set up in the same place as these bowls. The treasury no longer survives, but several wall blocks have been attributed to the structure, being taken as the evidence for its location. Bommelaer 1991, 153–155. Amandry 1939; Amandry 1991, 195–226. Rose – Darbyshire 2016, 6. Curtis 1996. Botta – Flandin 1849, pl. 18; Curtis 1996, pl. 45b. For an early example of a large standing male figure that may have belonged to the backrest of a chair or throne, see: Matthiae 1980, 91–92. The carbonized wood remains of this chair/throne are from Palace G, Ebla (Syria), dating to the 3rd millennium BCE.

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Fig. 4   Urartian bronze attachment from the Toprakkale ‘throne,’ Vorderasiatisches Museum, Berlin, inv. 00774 (by permission of the Vorderasiatisches Museum der Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin, Preußischer Kulturbesitz, photograph Olaf M. Tessmer)

The way the tall figure was joined to the backrest of Sargon’s throne is suggested by an Urartian furniture attachment in the Berlin Museum (Fig. 4).24 This is from the so-called Toprakkale throne, which is represented by numerous bronze figures and fittings from the Urartian site of Toprakkale near Van in eastern Anatolia. The site was plundered in the late 19th century and subsequently excavated by the British Museum, where many of the bronzes are on display.25 Others were acquired on the art market by museums and private collections in Paris, Berlin, Brussels, St. Petersburg, and New York. The attachments date from the 8th or 7th century BCE and may belong to several pieces of furniture.26 The group includes winged bulls, standing winged griffins, winged sphinxes, deities on the backs of animals, recumbent lions, and the standing figure seen here in Figure 4. Bronze furniture legs, corner brackets, and parts of a ‘chair arm’ were found, as well as ivories. Attempts have been made to reconstruct a throne and footstool from these elements, but the interpretations are highly conjectural.27 The bronze figure in Berlin is 36cm tall, worked in the round with traces of gilding, finished on all sides, with an inlaid face of limestone (partially missing). A large mortise in his right shoulder indicates that he was attached to a cross-piece or stretcher that extended out to his right. A second mortise near the bottom held another cross-piece or tenon. This figure thus faced front and stood at the right of a large piece of furniture, probably as part of the backrest to judge from his size.28 In Ursula Seidl’s interpretation of the ‘Toprakkale throne,’ the Berlin standing figure is incorporated into the backrest.29 One might wonder, then, if the Delphi lion tamer could have been placed in such a position. It did not function in the same way as the bronze figure, since there is no mortise

24

25 26 27 28 29

Berlin inv. 00774. Online (last access 14 July 2019). Barnett 1950; Barnett 1954. Muscarella 1988, 429–433; Simpson 1995, 1666–1667. See Seidl 1996, figs. 6–8. The figure would have appeared at the right when the throne was viewed from the front (proper left). Seidl 1996, 185–186, fig. 8.

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in the side of the lion tamer, and the rear features only the shallow mortise and is unworked below the level of the hair. It could have belonged to a backrest, but only if fixed to a backboard. DeVries and Rose do cite the ‘Toprakkale throne’ in their article, but not the Berlin figure. Instead, they have chosen the bronze ‘chair arm’ in the British Museum as comparanda for the Delphi lion tamer. This is an elaborate bronze support, square in section, surmounted by a recumbent lion.30 The piece is now bent out of shape and missing its inlay. R. D. Barnett restored this as a support for the armrest of the ‘Toprakkale throne,’ although it is by no means certain that this was its function.31 Because of the mortise in the back of the Delphi figure, DeVries and Rose ‘guess’ that it was part of the arm of a throne, ‘a kind of appliqué on the front of an upright piece of wood.’32 However, there is no precedent for such a ‘chair arm’ in Phrygia or elsewhere. The arms of Urartian and Assyrian thrones are invariably curved, and figures, if they do occur, are shown below the armrest only (see Fig. 3). But supposing that the Delphi lion tamer did belong somewhere on a throne, was this the throne of Midas – or even Phrygian? Phrygian Furniture from Gordion in Context A detailed look at the Gordion furniture, in the context of works from other Near Eastern sites, reveals both its connections to furniture made and used elsewhere, and also its uniqueness in terms of design and decoration. This can help determine what Phrygian furniture was like at the time of Midas, and whether the lion tamer may have been part of one such piece. The furniture from Gordion has been published extensively, and much is known about Phrygian furniture types, styles, materials, and construction techniques.33 All the extant furniture from Gordion was made of wood, some of it inlaid in woods of contrasting colours, and a few pieces were decorated with bronze studs. Ivory furniture fittings are attested from the City Mound at Gordion, in the form of square plaques from Megaron 3 that were attached to some type of object, apparently made of wood,34 and two floral plaques in Urartian style.35 The inlaid table from Tumulus MM originally had ornamental fittings at the corners of the frame and small panels set into the handles; these were presumably of precious metal or ivory but were missing from the table as found in the tomb.36 The three tumulus burials containing furniture were excavated in the 1950s by the University of Pennsylvania Museum under the direction of Rodney S. Young.37 In Tumulus MM, the king was found on the remains of an open log coffin of cedar, reinforced with iron, and fitted with pine corner blocks and rails of boxwood and yew. The coffin was first set up as a kind of bier for a funeral ceremony that took place outside the tumulus before the interment (see Fig. 1). The wooden furniture, bronze vessels, and other grave goods were apparently used for the funeral and feast – and then deposited in the tomb.38 Log coffins have been found at sites in Europe and as far east as Siberia, including Pazyryk, where five of the barrows contained larchwood coffins, dating to the 4th–3rd centuries BCE. These burials mark the eastern end of a vast region that shared a number of woodworking traditions, as discussed below.39

30

31

32 33 34 35

36 37 38 39

BM inv. 91253. Barnett 1950, 31, pl. XI. Online (last access 14 July 2019). Barnett 1950, fig. 22; Seidl 1996, fig. 6. In Seidl’s reconstruction (fig. 8) the ‘chair arm’ is not part of the armrest but supports the seat. DeVries – Rose 2012, 193–194. For a summary, see: Simpson 1996 and Simpson 2012. Spirydowicz 2018, pls. 8.3–8.6. Simpson 2010, 46 n. 97. Other ivory objects are preserved from the City Mound, including a few fragments of stool or chair legs. Simpson 2010, 34–36. Young 1981. Tumulus P was excavated in 1956, Tumulus MM in 1957, and Tumulus W in 1959. Simpson 1990; Simpson 2010, 119–135. Simpson 2010, 123–125.

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The Inlaid Table, Tumulus MM Aside from the coffin, Tumulus MM had contained 14 pieces of wooden furniture: nine tables, two serving stands, and the remains of what were apparently two stools and a chair. Eight of the nine tables were ‘plain’ three-legged tray tables, and the ninth was ornately carved and profusely inlaid (Fig. 5). The inlaid table was made of boxwood, inlaid in juniper, with a walnut top; this too was a three-legged tray table, with four handles at the corners for carrying. The tables from Tumulus MM were portable banquet tables, used to transport food and drink to participants (Fig. 1). The inlaid table has been conserved, drawn, and reconstructed for display in the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, Ankara.40 After conservation, the wood was strong enough to be handled and studied, and the elaborate inlay was once again clear. Carved, inlaid struts, in the form of abstract plants or trees, rose from inlaid squares on the four sides of the frame to support the table top by means of mortise-and-tenon joinery. The inlaid decoration included mazes and other special designs – rosettes, swastikas, quadripartite squares, and lattices of squares and lozenges, which are now recognized as religious emblems, fertility symbols, and protective devices including ‘genealogical patterns.’41 The inlaid table from Tumulus MM was a spectacular piece of furniture. The table’s three curved legs had tenons at the top; these were fit into mortises cut into collars that had extended down from the underside of the table top. The legs had carved, inlaid top pieces and stylized lion-paw feet. The table top was supported by an ingenious set of leg struts rising from the three legs to support the square frame, assuring the table’s stability on any type of surface. The complex assembly, while giving the appearance of fragility, was actually serviceable and sturdy. Other tables of this design may have been used in Phrygia, but elsewhere there is nothing quite comparable. While threelegged tray tables were popular in antiquity, the level of abstraction of natural forms and the type of geometric decoration found on the Tumulus MM inlaid table are unique to Gordion. This is apparent from a brief look at ancient tables. Tables or stands with tray-shaped tops, some of them elaborate, are found in the Near East as early as the 3rd millennium BCE.42 Numerous ivory furniture attachments have been excavated at Bronze Age sites of the 2nd millennium. The fittings for an ivory bed and table with figural decoration were recovered from the Royal Palace at Ugarit (Cour III), dating to the 14th–13th centuries BCE.43 Nearly 400 ivories were excavated from the Canaanite palace at Fig. 5   Reconstruction drawing of the inlaid table from Megiddo (14th–12th centuries BCE), inTumulus MM (E. Simpson, 1985) cluding struts and plaques that may have

40 41 42

43

Simpson 2010, 31–56, 159–162; Spirydowicz 2010, 137–142. Simpson 2010, 48–56. For instance, a wooden table with shell inlay from Ebla, Palace G. This table had a rectangular top with a raised rim, supported by openwork friezes, with scenes of animals in combat, heroes dominating animals, and warriors in battle – an early example of a tray table with an openwork frame, dating to the 3rd quarter of the 3rd millennium BCE. Matthiae 1980, 88–91. Caubet – Yon 1996, 69–70. The table had a circular top with a raised rim; a rosette at the center was surrounded by an openwork frieze of animals and mythological beasts. The top was apparently inlaid with lapis lazuli and glass paste, and may have been gilded.

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belonged to tables.44 These take the form of figures or variations on plants or trees – precursors to the more abstract versions on the Gordion table. This tradition continued into the 1st millennium BCE, with many floral struts present among the Nimrud ivories.45 Found in the Northwest Palace, the Burnt Palace, and Fort Shalmaneser, most of these ivory furniture fittings were imported into Assyria from Syria and Phoenicia. Fine examples of Assyrian tables with carved struts are depicted on the palace reliefs. A round table shown on a relief from Khorsabad has a dished top, straight legs with lion-paw feet on conical bases, and a tall strut with leaf mouldings running up to support the table top at the centre; two male figures stand on a stretcher and reach up to help support the top from below.46 A square table on another relief from Khorsabad has floral struts supporting the table top, and legs featuring two tiers of standing male figures, placed above lion-paw feet on conical bases.47 The standing figures recall those on the Assyrian thrones discussed above. The Khorsabad tables are roughly contemporary with the inlaid table from Tumulus MM, and similar in several ways – they have legs with lion-paw feet and carved struts as supporting elements. Yet they are quite different: on the Assyrian tables the lion-paw feet are realistically rendered, and the decorative struts are clearly recognizable as floral and figural elements. The extreme abstraction and complex geometric inlay of the Gordion table are not found in Assyria or elsewhere. The Plain Tables Eight ‘plain’ banquet tables were found in Tumulus MM and two in Tumulus P at Gordion.48 These were simpler versions of the inlaid table – with boxwood legs and tray-shaped tops. As with the inlaid table, the legs had tenons at the top, which fit into mortises cut into collars that extended down from the underside of the table tops. The collars were carved in one piece with the table top, necessitating a thick board, most of which was then cut away. Curved table legs with tenons at the top were being made in Mesopotamia as early as the Old Babylonian period, as shown by a clay votive plaque depicting a woodworker using an adze to shape such a leg.49 The collar-tenon method of joinery occurs on tables from the Middle Bronze Age tombs at Jericho (17th–16th centuries BCE), Urartian tables from Adılcevaz (ca. 7th century BCE), and, far to the east, at Pazyryk (4th–3rd centuries BCE). This construction method was thus in use over a long period and is one feature that ties the Gordion furniture to other schools of ancient woodworking. Four-legged Stools Also in widespread use was a common type of stool found throughout the ancient world from Greece and Italy to Egypt and Mesopotamia. The woodworker shaping the table leg shown on the Old Babylonian plaque sits on such a stool, and similar stools were used at Gordion. Found in the northeast corner of Tumulus MM were several degraded furniture legs and other fragments of boxwood. From Young’s field notes, plans, and excavation photographs, two stools and a chair can be tentatively identified.50 Thirteen such stool legs were found in Tumulus P, ranging in size

44 45

46 47 48 49

50

Loud 1939. The Nimrud ivories were recovered in excavations beginning in the mid-19th century with the finds of A. H. Layard and W. K. Loftus, and continuing through the 20th century; they have been studied and published by numerous scholars, including R. D. Barnett, M. E. L. Mallowan, Georgina Herrmann, Irene Winter, and others. For a summary, see: Simpson 1995, 1658–1661. Curtis 1996, pl. 51c. Curtis 1996, pl. 50c. Simpson – Spirydowicz 1999, 43–48, 59–60; Simpson 2008; Simpson 2010, 57–64. al-Gailani Werr 1996, pl. 10a. The woodworker is using an adze to finish a table leg (not a chair leg, as stated in the caption). Simpson 2010, 111–117; for the stool legs, see fig. 76 and pls. 100–102, 105b.

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Fig. 6   Inlaid serving stands from Tumulus MM, Gordion, in situ in 1957 (by permission of the University of Pennsylvania Museum of Archaeology and Anthropology)

from tiny (12.5cm in height) to very large.51 These stools had four legs, joined at the top by stretchers with tenons at the ends that fit into mortises cut through the legs; the seat was woven plant fibre. Such light stools could be carried around and set down when and where convenient – and are still used this way in Turkey today. The furniture from the northeast corner of Tumulus MM had apparently included one chair, which had a carved top rail of boxwood depicting small animals in panels.52 This is the closest thing to a throne found at Gordion – and it is nothing like the Assyrian or Urartian thrones already mentioned. It had no figural supports, and the animals on the top rail are very simply rendered. Clearly not a throne per se, it was an unassuming chair, used along with the stools to hold textiles and other burial offerings. Serving Stands Found in Tumulus MM were two inlaid serving stands (A and B) with screen-like faces made of boxwood, inlaid with juniper (Fig. 6).53 At the centre of each face was an inlaid rosette, supported by two curved ‘legs’ of walnut set into the boxwood. These central elements were placed within a grid of square designs, surrounded by thousands of diamonds and triangles. Each stand originally had a walnut top piece, supported by boxwood side pieces, a back piece, and a back leg (now missing) with diagonal struts. Most of these had broken off and fallen to the tomb floor. The rings of the top pieces had held small bronze cauldrons (Fig. 1); ten such cauldrons and two ladles were found nearby in the tomb. After their conservation, the serving stands were assembled for display in the Museum of Anatolian Civilizations.54 Serving stands of some sort were in use by the 3rd millennium BCE in Mesopotamia, as shown by images on cylinder seals. These stands are found in banquet scenes, with vessels or food on

51 52 53

54

Simpson – Spirydowicz 1999, 60–61. Simpson 2010, figs. 77–78, pls. 104–105a. Young called these ‘screens’ A and B, and thought they might be ‘throne backs’ against which the Phrygian monarch could sit. Young 1974, 13. Simpson 2010, 65–110, 162–163.

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top.55 Vessel stands continued in use in the Near East and Egypt, with extensive evidence from the 1st millennium BCE. In a scene from an Assyrian walled camp, shown on a relief from Nimrud of the 9th century BCE, workers prepare food and drink – with a stand for multiple vessels prominently depicted.56 Metal versions are known from Urartu, made of bronze rods, with legs ending in hoof feet.57 None of these is like the Tumulus MM serving stands, however, with their screenlike faces, covered with inlaid decoration. This decoration is not only finely executed – the overall concept is amazing. The square designs surrounding the rosette complex can be analysed and the system understood. There are 184 square designs in the main field on stand A and 180 on stand B.58 Most of these squares have a special type of symmetry: they are symmetrical with respect to rotations of 180 degrees. That is, a rotation of the original design by 180 degrees will produce the same design, but any other operation will yield one of three other square motifs, for a total of four distinct possibilities. These are (1) the original design, (2) that design rotated 90 degrees, (3) the original design flipped, and (4) the original rotated 90 degrees and then flipped. The Phrygian cabinetmakers played with this special feature, turning and flipping a few main designs – to create a seemingly endless variety of patterns, and an overall scheme of dazzling complexity.59 This profusion of patterns surely left the viewer fascinated and even hypnotized when searching for some kind of organizing principle. Although it was not obvious, there was an underlying rationale, based on a number of design ‘families’ composed of the main designs and their various transformations. In the case of stand B (Fig. 6, left), the program was based on a series of horizontal rows, alternating between the two main design families. For stand A (Fig 6, right), the scheme was based not on horizontal rows, but on a series of diagonals.60 These special designs are related to textile patterns, as has been demonstrated elsewhere.61 The prominent complex at the centre of the stands’ faces features an inlaid rosette medallion, supported by two curved legs, recalling those of the inlaid table. These are abstract lion’s legs, ending in stylized paw feet. This unusual grouping has now been deciphered with reference to the arts of the greater Near East, where symbols were used to represent deities. The rosette pattern (and variants) could stand in for the goddess Ishtar and her local counterparts.62 On the Tumulus MM stands, the rosette signified the mother goddess Matar (Kybele), as can be shown through a study of the rock-cut monuments in the Phrygian highlands. Particularly germane is Arslan Kaya, which shows Matar standing in the doorway of her shrine, the façade of which is covered with geometric motifs. The goddess is flanked by two attendant lions, standing on their hind legs and touching her head with their paws. This is replicated on the faces of the Tumulus MM stands, but in an abstract rendition; the rosette has been appropriated for the goddess Matar, and her lions are represented by the curved legs that support the rosette from below. The serving stands can thus be recognized as portable shrines of Matar – important ceremonial furniture incorporating religious imagery.63 The sophistication of the iconography extends even further, as can be suggested, with the two stands representing the two halves of the agricultural year, under the control of the goddess, and, in combination, a metaphor for her domain.64

55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62

63 64

Baker 1966, figs. 253–254. Baker 1966, fig. 333. Seidl 1996, pl. 56. Prähistorische Staatssammlung, Munich, 8th–7th century BCE (reconstructed). Simpson 2010, 103. Here I refer to the number of complete square designs in the field outside the curved legs. Simpson 1988; Simpson 2010, 77–83. Simpson 2010, colour pls. X–XI. Simpson 2010, 83–87. Simpson 2010, 87–91. The Sumerian goddess Inanna was symbolized by the rosette as early as the 3rd millennium BCE. The star or star rosette was used to symbolize Ishtar. Simpson 2010, 91–99. Simpson 2010, 99–110.

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An inlaid serving stand was also found in Tumulus P, the burial of a young prince (Fig. 7). The geometric patterns on the face of this stand are different, but the rosette complex at the centre features the same elements. It can thus be identified as a portable shrine of Matar, as with the Tumulus MM stands. Another piece of furniture from Tumulus P, an inlaid stool decorated with bronze studs, takes this kind of thinking into the spatial dimension (Fig. 8). The Inlaid Stool, Tumulus P At first glance, the openwork design at the front and back of the stool looks like a number of loopy curves of no particular significance. On closer inspection (which is always required of Phrygian furniture) it turns out to be much more. One can see here an abbreviated rendering of two curved legs extending down from the top slats and curving out to the sides, terminating in Phrygian-style lion-paw feet. Another such ‘foot’ occurs in the Fig. 7   Reconstruction drawing of the inlaid face of middle of the front at ground level, and from this the serving stand from Tumulus P, Gordion (E. Simpson, 1987) rises a curved element that ends at the top left and right in two smaller curved pieces; these support the top slats of the stool at the corners. What is actually shown here is an abridged version of a three-legged Phrygian tray table with curved legs and leg struts, such as the inlaid table from Tumulus MM – collapsed from three dimensions into two in a whimsical conceit.65 As this brief discussion indicates, certain aspects of Phrygian woodworking relate to some widespread types and techniques. However, no other ancient furniture known exhibits the high degree of abstraction, elaborate symbolism, mathematical complexity, and intellectual ingenuity of the Phrygian furniture from Gordion.

Fig. 8   Inlaid, studded stool from Tumulus P, Gordion, reconstructed for display, Museum of Anatolian Civilizations, Ankara (by permission of the Gordion Furniture Project) 65

Simpson 1988, 35–38, figs. 4–5.

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The Throne of King Midas With the arguments now stated, we may return to the throne of King Midas at Delphi. What did Herodotus mean when he said it was “well worth seeing”? While we cannot be certain, we can speculate based on an understanding of Phrygian royal furniture, as known from the finds excavated at Gordion. We do not know the material of Midas’s throne, but it was very likely made of fine woods, inlaid with an array of special geometric designs, and it may have had precious metal fittings or ivory ornamentation. But was it a standard Assyrian- or Urartian-style throne with figures used as supporting elements and decoration? Granted, no royal thrones were recovered from the tumulus burials or City Mound at Gordion. Nor is any Phrygian throne depicted in art. Nonetheless, it can be said with some confidence that the throne of Midas was not a common type. The highly unusual character of the Gordion furniture indicates that the king’s throne must surely have been exceptional too – witness the comment of Herodotus. Then what of the Delphi lion tamer? The situation may be summarized as follows. Despite assertions to the contrary, the lion tamer is not demonstrably Phrygian in style, type, or composition, although he might have been made somewhere in Anatolia. Neither is his lion, which has a distinctive appearance and is carved in delicate detail, very unlike the small lion from Tumulus P to which it has been compared. Nor is there any known Phrygian furniture that incorporates such an ivory figure. The extant ivory fittings from Megaron 3 on the City Mound are small plaques carved in relief – and the Delphi ivory is a large, three-dimensional standing figure. While such figures appear on furniture elsewhere, notably in Assyria and Urartu, none has been excavated at Gordion. And, perhaps most crucial, Phrygian woodworkers had a unique artistic outlook, using abstract versions of natural forms and highly complex geometric patterns, embedded with symbolism, for their finest creations. Based on the evidence, the throne of Midas – or part of it – has yet to be discovered. Acknowledgments: I am grateful to Oscar White Muscarella for drawing my attention to the quote from Henry David Thoreau, and to Pauline Albenda for her assistance and her expertise regarding the furniture depicted on the reliefs from the palace of Sargon II at Khorsabad.

References Akurgal 1968 E. Akurgal, The Art of Greece. Its Origins in the Mediterranean and Near East (New York 1968). al-Gailani Werr 1996 L. al-Gailani Werr, Domestic furniture in Iraq. Ancient and traditional, in: Herrmann 1996, 29–32. Amandry 1939 P. Amandry, Rapport préliminaire sur les statues chryséléphantines de Delphes, Bulletin de Correspondance Hellénique 63, 1, 1939, 86–119. Amandry 1944–1945 P. Amandry, Statuette d’ivoire d’un dompteur de lion découverte à Delphes, Syria 24, 3–4, 1944–1945, 149–174. Amandry 1991 P. Amandry, Les fosses de l’Aire, in: P. Amandry, Guide de Delphes. Le Musée (Paris 1991) 191–226. Arias – Hirmer 1962 P. E. Arias – M. Hirmer, A History of Greek Vase Painting (London 1962). Aruz et al. 2014 J. Aruz – S. Graff – Y. Rakic (eds.), Assyria to Iberia at the Dawn of the Classical Age (New York 2014). Baker 1966 H. Baker, Furniture in the Ancient World. Origins and Evolution, 3100–475 BC (London 1966).

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Barnett 1948 R. D. Barnett, Early Greek and oriental ivories, Journal of Hellenic Studies 68, 1948, 1–25. Barnett 1950 R. D. Barnett, The excavations of the British Museum at Toprak Kale near Van, Iraq 12, 1, 1950, 1–43. Barnett 1954 R. D. Barnett, The excavations of the British Museum at Toprak Kale, near Van. Addenda, Iraq 16, 1, 1954, 3–22. Bommelaer 1991 J.-F. Bommelaer, Guide de Delphes. Le Site (Paris 1991). Botta – Flandin 1849 P. E. Botta – E. Flandin, Monument de Ninive 1–2. Architecture et sculpture (Paris 1849). Caubet – Yon 1996 A. Caubet – M. Yon, Le mobilier d’Ougarit, in: Herrmann 1996, 61–72. Curtis 1996 J. Curtis, Assyrian furniture. The archaeological evidence, in: Herrmann 1996, 167–180. DeVries – Rose 2012 K. DeVries – C. B. Rose, The throne of Midas? Delphi and the power politics of Phrygia, Lydia, and Greece, in: Rose 2012, 189–200. Herodotus Herodotus. Translated by A. D. Godley, Loeb Classical Library 117 (Cambridge, MA. 1990). Herrmann 1996 G. Herrmann (ed.), The Furniture of Western Asia. Ancient and Traditional (Mainz 1996). Kantor 1947 H. J. Kantor, The shoulder ornament of Near Eastern lions, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 6, 4, 1947, 250–274. Loud 1939 G. Loud, The Megiddo Ivories, University of Chicago Oriental Institute Publications 52 (Chicago 1939). Matthiae 1980 P. Matthiae, Ebla. An Empire Rediscovered (London 1980). Mazur 2016 S. Mazur, The Midas throne row, The Huffington Post: The Blog, 3 August 2016. Online (last access 14 July 2019). Muscarella 1988 O. W. Muscarella, Bronze and Iron. Ancient Near Eastern Artifacts in The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York 1988). Muscarella 2016 O. W. Muscarella, An ivory statuette from Delphi – not from King Midas’s throne, Source 35, 1–2, 2016, 182–193. Psalti 2014 A. Psalti, No. 180. Male figure with lion, in: Aruz et al. 2014, 308. Rose 2012 C. B. Rose (ed.), The Archaeology of Phrygian Gordion, Royal City of Midas (Philadelphia 2012). Rose – Darbyshire 2016 C. B. Rose – G. Darbyshire (eds.), The Golden Age of King Midas. Exhibition catalogue (Philadelphia 2016). Schiering 2003 W. Schiering, Löwenbändiger und Midas-Thron in Delphi, in: D. Damaskos (ed.), Eπιτύμβιον Gerhard Neumann, Benaki Museum Supplement 2 (Athens 2003) 57–68.

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Schuster – Carpenter 1996 C. Schuster – E. Carpenter, Patterns That Connect. Social Symbolism in Ancient & Tribal Art (New York 1996). Seidl 1996 U. Seidl, Urartian furniture, in: Herrmann 1996, 181–186. Simpson 1988 E. Simpson, The Phrygian artistic intellect, Source 7, 3–4, 1988, 24–42. Simpson 1990 E. Simpson, Midas’ bed and a royal Phrygian funeral, Journal of Field Archaeology 17, 1, 1990, 69–87. Simpson 1995 E. Simpson, Furniture in ancient western Asia, in: J. Sasson – J. Baines – G. Beckman – K. S. Rubinson (eds.), Civilizations of the Ancient Near East 3 (New York 1995) 1647–1671. Simpson 1996 E. Simpson, Phrygian furniture from Gordion, in: Herrmann 1996, 187–209. Simpson 2001 E. Simpson, Celebrating Midas. Contents of a great Phrygian king’s tomb reveal a lavish funerary banquet, Archaeology 54, 4, 2001, 26–33. Simpson 2008 E. Simpson, Banquet tables at Gordion, in: E. Genç – D. Çelik (eds.), Aykut Çınaroğlu’na Armağan. Studies in Honour of Aykut Çınaroğlu (Ankara 2008) 135–155. Simpson 2010 E. Simpson, The Furniture from Tumulus MM, The Gordion Wooden Objects Vol. I (Leiden 2010). Simpson 2012 E. Simpson, Royal Phrygian furniture and fine wooden artifacts from Gordion, in: Rose 2012, 149–164. Simpson – Spirydowicz 1999 E. Simpson – K. Spirydowicz, Gordion Ahşap Eserler / Wooden Furniture. The Study, Conservation, and Reconstruction of the Furniture and Wooden Objects from Gordion, 1981–1998 (Ankara 1999). Spirydowicz 2010 K. Spirydowicz, Conservation of the wooden furniture from Tumulus MM, in: Simpson 2010, 137–158. Spirydowicz 2018 K. Spirydowicz, The City Mound at Gordion. The discovery, study, and conservation of the wooden fragments from Megaron 3, in: E. Simpson (ed.), The Adventure of the Illustrious Scholar. Papers Presented to Oscar White Muscarella, Culture and History of the Ancient Near East 94 (Leiden, Boston 2018) 140–159. Villing 2014 A. Villing, No. 181. Male figure with lion, in: Aruz et al. 2014, 308–309. Wilford 2002 J. N. Wilford, Statuette is traced to Midas; alas, not golden, just ivory, The New York Times, 3 January 2002. Young 1974 R. S. Young, Phrygian furniture from Gordion, Expedition 16, 3, 1974, 2–13. Young 1981 R. S. Young, Three Great Early Tumuli, The Gordion Excavations Final Reports 1, University Museum Monograph 43 (Philadelphia 1981).

The Ivory Thrones from Parthian Nisa: Furniture Design between Philhellenism and Iranian Revival Niccolò Manassero 1 Abstract: In 1948, the Soviet Expedition JuTAKE excavated the building called the ‘Square House’ at the Parthian site of Mithridatkert, known from ancient sources as Nisa, the alleged site of the graves of Parthian kings. Among the precious objects unearthed in this royal treasury, was a large inventory of ivory artefacts. Of these, the famous rhytons, masterpieces of Hellenistic art, were carefully restored and studied, while some 40 pieces of furniture were restored only in part and preliminarily published. A thorough discussion and extensive publication of these findings has still not been undertaken. In 2013, however, thanks to support from the Shelby White & Leon Levy Foundation, the National Museum of Ashgabat was able to conduct a careful investigation of the materials and prepare a complete set of photos and drawings in order to give this material the recognition it deserved within Western scholarship. The furniture items consist of the legs of thrones and beds (klinai), whose design clearly reflects the Hellenistic craft tradition and finds parallels in a number of specimens from Anatolia, Bactria, Chorasmia and Armenia. Through careful consideration of the quantity, shape and size of each item, the author suggests a possible reconstruction of the furniture that lay buried in the Square House, and highlights its ideological and symbolical meaning within the historical framework of the Parthian Empire. Keywords: Parthians, Old Nisa, Hellenistic furniture, ivory, banquet

The Archaeological Context of the Finding The archaeological site known as Old Nisa lies at the foot of the Kopet Dagh mountains in Southern Turkmenistan, 15km from Ashgabat, the capital. Together with the nearby site known as New Nisa, a mere 2km to the West, it dates at least to the 2nd century BCE and is one of the earliest Parthian (Arsacid) settlements, founded by a nomadic tribe that allegedly came from the steppes north of the Karakum desert and is referred to in sources as Parni/Aparni/Dahae.2 The site is mentioned in a couple of ostraka (administrative documents written on sherds) as ‘Mithridatkert’ (‘fortress of Mithridates’, i.e. the dynastic name of the two major Parthian kings). It is identified by most scholars as Nisa (or Parthaunisa), which, according to Isidorus of Charax, is the site of the graves of the Parthian kings.3 The site, trapezoidal in shape, covers 300 hectares and is surrounded by a continuous fortification wall with 43 towers. Preliminary trenches were dug by S. Maruschenko in the 1930s. Annual campaigns were conducted in the 1940s and ’50s by the JuTAKE (Southern Turkmenistan Archaeological Complex) Expedition, which brought to light a number of buildings (mostly in the northern half of the site) and findings of invaluable historical importance.4 The building known as ‘Square House’, excavated in campaigns from 1948 to1952, delivered the bulk of the remarkable artefacts, some of which are made of precious materials such as silver, ivory and marble. These items have outstanding features that make them worthy of being considered genuine Hellenistic masterpieces. The building has been interpreted as a treasury by most scholars, at least during its later stages of use. It is, in fact, the only building in Old Nisa in which several artefacts were found in sealed rooms, as the extant buildings seem to have been emptied before being abandoned and buried. A function such as that of a treasury may explain why such beautiful and valuable artefacts were stored in the building. As regards the Square House’s earlier

1 2 3 4

Centro Ricerche Archeologiche e Scavi di Torino, Italy; [email protected]. See a thorough discussion of the origins of the Parthians in Hauser 2005. See also Chaumont 1973, 211–215. On the identification of the site, see Invernizzi 2004 and mentioned literature. The complete reports on those expeditions have been published in Russian in the journal Труды ЮжноТуркменистанской археологической комплексной экспедиции (Труды ЮТАКЭ / Trudy JuTAKE); a useful summary of them is given by Pilipko 2001. More accessible publications on the arts of Nisa in the English language have been supplied by A. Invernizzi; see especially Invernizzi 2001 and Invernizzi 2004.

152 use, scholars are divided between interpreting it as a funerary temple or a warehouse. Most likely it was originally used as a hall for banquets, as convincingly shown by A. Invernizzi.5 What I wish to demonstrate here is that the furniture, together with the rhytons, may strengthen such an interpretation. Among the items stocked and found in this royal treasury, the most outstanding is a considerable number of ivory artefacts. This group consists of two different kinds of objects: around 50 rhytons, that is, horn-shaped drinking vessels with spouted zoomorphic terminals, which are provided with magnificently carved friezes (Figs. 1–2),6 and 40 furniture components (33 items according to the editors), namely, legs of stools, beds or couches. These two kinds of artefacts were found lying together, badly crushed and mixed up on the floor of Room XI, the main room on the north-east side of the building. Maps of the two layers were drawn by the Soviet archaeologists (Fig. 3) and show the position of each item within the room. These clearly reveal that the two classes of objects were stocked in a very restricted area (c. 2×3m). This suggests that we cannot exclude the possibility that these two groups of artefacts should be viewed together as they constitute one consistent collection, were ultimately stocked together, and most likely conceived to be used together. Indeed, these two classes of objects are also closely connected on the ideological plane. Therefore any discussion on the furniture lot must also take into consideration the rhyton lot.

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Fig. 1   Rhyton no. 11 from Old Nisa (photo: C. Gonella, by permission of Centro Scavi Torino)

Fig. 2   Frieze of rhyton no. 8 from Nisa (photo: C. Gonella, by permission of Centro Scavi Torino)

A. Invernizzi and G. Koshelenko have strongly supported this hypothesis, based on a number of similar buildings from Macedonia to Central Asia, while V. N. Pilipko has denied that the Square House ever served such a function; see: Koshelenko 1977; Invernizzi 2000; Pilipko 2001. On rhytons and drinking horns in antiquity, see Hoffmann 1989 and Manassero 2010, with further references. On the rhytons from Nisa; see: Masson-Pugachenkova 1982; Manassero 2007; Manassero 2008; Pappalardo 2010.

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Finally, it is relevant to note that only one additional object made of ivory, a pyxis lid adorned with alternate ivy and acanthus leaves in relief, has been attested in Old Nisa to date. It was found during the 2009 Italian excavations in the South-West Building.7 Much of the furniture in question was published by G. Pugachenkova in a short article in Russian,8 which was poorly illustrated and enjoyed almost no circulation outside the former Soviet Union and Russian scholarship. P. Bernard wrote about such a corpus to a certain extent when publishing an ivory leg discovered by the DAFA Expedition in the treasury of Ai Khanum, the capital of ancient Bactria.9 Pugachenkova, followed by Bernard, divided the lot into two groups according to shape; basically, the legs of group 1 featured smooth, flared shafts bearing bell-shaped elements in various arrangements, while those of group 2 had upper drums with multiple mouldings (a series of tori and scotiae), while the lower part of their shafts sometimes had a figurative element fully sculpted in the round. Rough sketches of all the items were published by Pugachenkova, but some of them were incorrect and upside down, disregarding the basic principle according to which furniture legs flare from top to bottom. A graphic reconstruction of the piece of furniture was provided as well (Fig. 4), showing a Parthian nobleman sitting on a throne and leaning on a bed made of such pieces. However, no attention was paid to the actual Fig. 3   Sketch of layer where ivory lot was found (by permission of G. Pugachenkova) number, shape and size of the items, so that the result was a careless and merely idealised reconstruction with no consideration for the archaeological evidence. Technological Remarks The research project in question10 aims to provide a careful, detailed publication of the furniture, focusing on the morphological and technological features of its material and parts, the typological

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Lippolis 2010, 41, fig. 5. Pugachenkova 1966. Bernard 1970. The project was generously funded by the Shelby White & Leon Levy Foundation of Harvard University with a two-year grant (2012–2014). I was able to obtain access to the materials thanks to Dr Muhammad Mamedov, Director of the National Dept. of Protection, Research and Restoration of Historical and Cultural Monuments, and Dr. Orazgeldy Mametnurov, Director of the National Museum of Ashgabat. The graphic and photographic documentation of the only item preserved not in Ashgabat, but at the Hermitage Museum in St. Petersburg, was generously provided by Dr. Zhanna Etsina through the kind mediation of Dr. A. Omelchenko; the drawing was made by Dr. Alexej Kulich.

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Fig. 4   Restitution of furniture from the Square House (by permission of G. Pugachenkova)

and iconographic information it conveys, and the connections between this inventory and others of the same period. The mission at the National Museum of Ashgabat was held in August–September 2013, and was directed by the author of this essay. Dr. Giorgio Affanni and Dr. Elena Ghio completed the team, the former investigating various physical features of the material and worked items, the latter taking photographs and conducting emergency restorations when needed. Direct inspection of the artefacts offered us a chance to clarify a number of technological issues, document features of the raw material and the working process, and provide a complete iconographic documentation of the corpus. It also gave us a chance to determine the state of preservation of the objects, which had deteriorated sharply since the discovery as many of them had become infested by microorganisms, damaged by roots, and affected by loss of collagen, all of which was seriously jeopardising their survival. Unfortunately, the impressive work done by the Soviet restorers in 1949 and 1950, though saving the furniture from destruction, was often too invasive. Integrations had hidden large parts of the original surface of the objects, thus preventing many observations that might have revealed extremely useful data. Inspection, however, almost always allowed us to understand from which part of a tusk each item had been carved – an indispensable step towards understanding how the craftsmen had selected and processed the raw material. It also led to the reconnaissance of several items whose fragments were preserved in different showcases in the museum. The main information emerging from the investigation at the Ashgabat Museum is that at least part of the ivory used for the furniture came from African elephants, as the diameter of the pieces exceeds 11cm, that is, the maximum size of items carved from Indian ivory, according to A. Cutler.11 Moreover, most of the rhytons reach diameters (often up to 16.5cm) that are undoubtedly related to African elephants. This is a very important finding of the investigation, as the idea that Indian ivory was used for the lot – albeit unsustained by proof of any sort – has silently entered the literature thanks to the geographical proximity of India. It is difficult to ascertain the number of tusks used to carve the furniture found in Nisa, but the rough data are impressive; the total length of the ivory used to create the furniture items was 9.60m, and the total length of the ivory of the rhytons was c. 20m. As the length of tusks is extremely variable, any estimate of the number of tusks from which the items were carved is debatable. Nevertheless, the author tentatively estimates that a total of 60 tusks were used for carving the rhytons and furniture – a massive quantity when compared to contemporary sources and actual findings.

11

Cutler 1985, 27–29.

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Fig. 5   Unfinished ivory artefact no. 3, with traces of cutting (photo: E. Ghio)

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Fig. 6   Upper part of shaft 1106/5, with traces of lathe (photo: E. Ghio)

As regards the investigation at the museum, an important tool for discerning the invasiveness of the restoration lay in the UV photos taken of all the items. Organic and artificial materials actually respond to UV light differently, resulting in images of different colours.12 The natural features of the ivory could be clearly observed and documented. Owen lines (concentric rings analogous to tree rings, which can easily be observed when the tusk is sectioned) are usually visible on the uppermost surfaces of almost all objects. Schreger lines (a pattern of crossed arches peculiar to elephant ivory, or, as Krzyszkowska calls it, a ‘cone-in-cone splitting’) Fig. 7   Bell element of 1106/5, with drill and picket have sometimes been observed as well.13 (photo: E. Ghio) However, it was the artificial features of the items that were of primary interest. Traces of a saw and knife that were first used to separate a section of the cylinder from the tusk were observed on unfinished item no. 4 (Fig. 5), from which it clearly emerged from the straight traces left by a blade in three different directions that the object had been rotated three times on its axis while being cut. Traces of a lathe and chisel were observed on the surface of many items

12 13

See: Affanni 2015, 3–4, fig. 2. Krzyszkowska 1990, 36; see also: MacGregor 1985; Cutler 1985; Poplin 2000 for the natural and artificial features of the ivory and the fundamental information on the history of its manufacture in antiquity.

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(Fig. 6), although polishing had usually hidden them. First hand inspection allowed for the recognition of technical features such as pickets, drills and hollows – meaning that the items had already been repaired in antiquity – and thus revealed that they had been used for a certain period and restored before being stocked in the Square House. For example, the bell-like element of no. 1106/5 features three small drills, two of them still holding ivory pickets (Fig. 7), while no. 1064/4 contains three hollows used for mending the piece after it suffered a longitudinal break in antiquity. Metal strips and nails were attested only in the case of no. 1946/10, and probably had an ornamental, rather than functional, purpose. In addition, a few metal fragments preserved in the Ashgabat Museum are generally considered to be appliqués of rhytons, but the possibility that they were applied to furniture instead cannot be ruled out.14 Another feature that deserves mention is the absence of rectangular mortises into which wooden beams were supposed to be inserted on several upper drums, as in the case of legs SA-15047 and no. 53. The latter also shows a short horizontal incision that could be interpreted as a preliminary guideline for the upper frame of the mortise, thus suggesting that no. 53 might be an unfinished object (Fig. 8). It Fig. 8   Upper drum of no. 53, with guideline for absent must also be noted that some tool tracks and mortise (photo: E. Ghio) rough surfaces were not polished. Together, such details point to the possibility that not all the items found in Room XI were actually finished objects; some of them may have been works in progress, possibly taken from workshops linked to the Royal Palace and stocked here when the citadel was abandoned. At the same time, as we have noted, some items had already been restored. Thus there is clear evidence that the corpus included objects at different moments of use and preparation, some of them possibly replacing older items, thereby testifying to repeated imports or, more likely, the lasting activity of a local workshop connected with the Palace. Another type of observation conducted was that of the inner structure of the items and the techniques used to assemble them. Inspection showed that homologous segments of the legs might have been carved equally from solid and hollow segments of tusks, suggesting that the actual load-bearing function of the legs was of secondary importance. The craftsmen used whatever parts of the tusks they had at their disposal, be they from the empty root or the solid tooth. It must be noted that within the entire corpus, only no. 2075 contains a metal rod as internal support. The internal cavities, instead of having regularised surfaces for hosting beams or shafts, are consistently rough, revealing the original profile of the tusk even when the asymmetrical, curved part is involved (see the drawing of no. 44 in Fig. 9a). Only one item, the remarkable leg preserved in

14

See: Masson-Pugachenkova 1982, pl. 121.21; Pappalardo 2010, pls. 223–224. Pilipko 2001, 327, rightly points out that these metal fragments may belong to furniture rather than rhytons (see fig. 246).

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the Hermitage Museum (SA-15047), shows a carefully carved internal section, square in profile, into which a metal or wooden support was clearly inserted and passed through three sections (Fig. 9b). All this suggests that the items to which the legs belonged (chairs, couches and beds) were for the most part not intended for practical use; the furniture was probably not meant to carry an actual load, as the assemblage was weak and the ivory alone could barely have borne the weight of a human being. The absence of stretchers to strengthen the furniture legs at mid-height (a customary feature in Ancient Near Eastern furniture) further supports this idea. Summing up, direct inspection made it possible to detect a number of technical features and certain inconsistencies in the use of the raw material that stimulated reflection on the patterns of production of such luxury goods and offered some new hints as to the ideological meaning of the lot, the Square House and Nisa itself. Typological Study The second part of this investigation focuses on the typological aspects of the corpus in order to better define the models of the furniture in question, looks at their parallels in findings from the same period as well as iconographic sources, and discusses their historical and ideological contexts.

Fig. 9a–b   Shafts of nos. 44 and SA-15047 showing raw and carved inner cavities of tusks (drawing N. Manassero and A. Kulich, by permission of the State Hermitage Museum, St. Petersburg)

Group 1 As briefly mentioned above, the editor of the corpus, G. Pugachenkova, followed by P. Bernard, divided the ivory legs into two groups according to their shapes. Such division is basically correct, but the addition of a further subdivision within group 1, distinguishing those legs that have rectangular mortises in the upper drum (group 1a, Fig. 10) from those that do not (group 1b, Fig. 11), may be helpful. Such a difference is not a minor one, as the drums of the former group are considerably higher than those of the latter, and especially because they involve a different assemblage technique. No wooden beams were inserted into the upper drum of the second type, which are thinner and solid; in this case, some other kind of device, possibly a fibre or tissue, was probably wrapped around the drums and connected the four legs. The size of the preserved legs that can with certainty be attributed to this second group is homogeneous and consistent with a single piece of furniture, ca. 30cm in height. However, the corpus includes a few lower halves of shafts that cannot be securely attributed to either of the two groups. As this portion of the shaft has the same shape in both groups, it is impossible to judge to which of the two groups these items belong. Such uncertainty complicates the estimate of the number of items within each group as it leads to reconstructions with many possible profiles and sizes.

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Fig. 10   Item 1059/(1–2), belonging to group 1a (photo: E. Ghio)

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Fig. 11   Item no. 51, belonging to group 1b (photo: E. Ghio)

Fig. 12   Item 1946/5+25 (photo: E. Ghio)

Fig. 13   Item 1946/11 (photo: E. Ghio)

A couple of items deserve several additional comments; the design of the upper part of no. 1946/5+25 is different from any of the others as it features a flattened bulb instead of an elongated shaft with flared sides (Fig. 12). The leg may thus belong to group 1b but is longer than the others in that group (34.7cm vs. 29.2–30.5cm) and can therefore not be part of the same furniture item. In the original drawings, the leg is shown as having a bell-shaped element in its lower half, with acanthus leaves turned downwards. By now the condition of the item has deteriorated and no longer looks that way. However, it can easily be argued that bell-shaped element no. 1946/22 was glued to its shaft; their sizes match, but as no visible traces of such a union remain, the reconstruction remains hypothetical. The corpus includes another bell-shaped element with carved acanthus leaves (no. 1946/27), which is of similar size but different – almost geometric – in style. It is difficult to say which shaft it fits with, as the condition of its surfaces does not permit sure judgement. No. 1946/11 (Fig. 13) is also a unicum; its upper half, though extremely worn and fragmentary, preserves evidence of a sculptural element instead of the usual flared shaft with scotia and tori. Its length is also greater than usual (36.2cm), though the upper part is incomplete. Its very poor state of conservation, however, prevents a conclusive interpretation of its design; we might even suppose that it included a representation of a lion paw. In such a case, this section would have been joined to an upper drum of group 2 (as Pugachenkova actually proposed), but neither No. 53 nor 1946/1 bis (the only two preserved incomplete drums of this kind) is suitable. However, the wide lacuna affecting the surface might also hide a different sculptural element, with perhaps its asymmetrical profile being accidental.15

15

I would not rule out a globular element, as in some Roman legs; see, for example: Béal 1991, fig. 3.

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Summing up, the legs of both groups 1a and 1b are generally composed of an upper drum and a shaft divided into two halves at mid-height by a scotia framed by two sharp-edged tori; below, a bell-shaped element and a short segment of shaft conclude the leg. Matching Samples in Group 1 This precise design, with minor variants, goes back at least to the 7th century in the entire Eastern Mediterranean basin, where Greek diphroi were widespread. It was used for the legs of both stools and beds, as represented on several Greek vase paintings, funeral reliefs, etc.16 Minor variations do occur, especially in the lower half. In pre-Hellenistic times, for example, a bell-shaped element occupied the place of the bulging foot at the very tip. It is also possible to distinguish several different variants within this typological group in a territory as wide as Anatolia, the Balkans, the Levant and Mesopotamia.17 Roman beds from the Western Mediterranean, which sometimes feature figurative, sculptural elements, are a further, somewhat baroque, evolution of the form,18 one in which bulging and bell-shaped elements prevail on the flared shaft. Although nearly contemporary, their general profile does not share much with those of the samples from Nisa. Worth mentioning instead are a number of items that are particularly close to those from Nisa as they share a common geographical, chronological and cultural background. The first, which inspired P. Bernard to write the aforementioned paper, is an ivory leg found in the treasury at Ai Khanum, Bactria, which is of nearly identical design and proportions as our group 1a.19 The similarity is astonishing, the only difference being a shorter lower segment below the bell-shaped element. Two silver-coated wooden legs of the same kind have been found at the Seleucid mound of Frehat en-Nufegi, Uruk,20 in which the only difference is again the lower segment below the bell-shaped element, which is likewise, somewhat redundantly bell-shaped. The mentioned examples from both Ai Khanum and Uruk reveal simply a slight difference in their lower part, which is much shorter than at Nisa, but clearly belongs to the same tradition of Hellenistic craftsmanship. An unpublished bronze item preserved in the National Museum of Ashgabat needs to be mentioned here. There is no information on its provenance, but it was likely found in one of the sites around the TurkFig. 14   Bronze piece of furniture at men capital at the foot of the Kopet Dagh Mountains, Ashgabat Museum, unknown provenance (photo: E. Ghio) perhaps in Nisa itself. It may be Parthian or of an

16

17

18 19 20

See Richter 1966, 23–28; Kyrieleis 1969. On Ancient Near Eastern and Iranian furniture, see Simpson 1995; Herr­ mann 1996; and the more recent Baughan 2013. See Kyrieleis 1969, pl. 17.3 for the Duvanlj samples; Andrianou 2009, 28, no. 5, fig. 6 for the Stavroupolis throne; Baughan 2013, fig. 25 for the Tell el-Far’ah bed. Baughan 2013 is the most recent and detailed discussion on all these kinds of furniture. See Béal 1991, fig. 16. On Roman furniture generally see: Richter 1926, 122–178; De Carolis 2007. Bernard 1970, figs. 6–7. Von Haller 1960, pls. 12.b, 14.b, 37.b.

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Fig. 15   Furniture from grave in Sisian, Armenia (by permission of Zh. D. Khachatrian)

earlier age, judging from its design (Fig. 14). It preserves the lower segment of its leg, which has a similar profile to and the same structure as do those of two samples from Hellenistic Delos,21 because part of its shaft, the bell-shaped element and the terminal segment are all cast as one and the same piece. A couple of fragmentary bronze legs from Shami22 – a site in Iranian Khuzestan with strong chronological and ideological links to Nisa – seem also to belong to group 1 of our corpus, but in them the bell-shaped element and the preserved parts of the shafts have different, more massive proportions, and do not precisely match our items. In addition, they have been interpreted as stands, not legs of furniture, though such a reading is debatable. It is when we come to contemporary Armenia, a country where the Parthian Empire had its core from the 1st century BCE on, that we may find the closest parallels to our group 1. A gypsum mould from the capital, Artaxata, which preserves the negative of a leg segment with a bellshaped element, stands as witness to the local production of such furniture in Hellenistic-Parthian

21 22

Andrianou 2009, 35–37, cat. 13–14, figs. 7–8a, b. Stein 1940, pl. VI:13 and 15, and see the sketch of the finding in pl. II, with its incorrect caption “bronze stands”. Note that the items in the plate are probably turned upside-down in this case as well, as in the case of the Nisa items.

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Armenia.23 This province, in fact, produced the furniture set that most precisely matches the one from Nisa; it comes from a grave excavated in Sisian in 1970 and is dated to between the 1st century BCE and 1st century CE. This corpus consists of 26 bronze segments of various length, belonging to legs, armchairs as well as upper parts of chairs (Fig. 15). They appear to amount to one throne (with a backrest), one chair, two footstools of different heights and one couch.24 Each leg in Sisian is composed of a shaft featuring a double torus in its upper half, a bell-shaped element in its lower half and a short terminal below. The absence of a proper drum as well as a bulge above the double torus differentiate the design of the Sisian legs from that of the ones in Nisa, where it is seen only in aforementioned item 1946/5+25. It must be said that an analogous bulge also occurs in some legs from Taxila (four wooden examples with a copper coating as well as one made of bone), which, however, lack the bell-shaped element in the lower section.25 The Sisian furniture also includes some short segments belonging to armrests and footstools. It is remarkable that a number of these short items include a bulge or bell-shaped element, some of which lack a mortise; some of these belong to the corpus of Nisa as well. They can therefore be interpreted as homologous to the Sisian samples as they are simply glued to the horizontal beam (if interpreted as armrests) or plate (if interpreted as footstools). Three different groups of such short items can be identified in the Nisa inventory; their size range is 11.2–11.9cm, 13.4–14.3cm, and 17.7–19.2cm, respectively. Their inner structure is different from case to case, either indiscriminately solid or hollow. In this case, however, the static function is not a concern as they did not have to carry any weight. Finally, although it seems unlikely that such short segments were freestanding, complete objects, it is worth noting that their shape is analogous to that of massive stone bases found at the Iranian site of Kāriyān, which have been interpreted as sacred furniture pieces from a Fire Temple and of Parthian or Sasanian date.26 Summing up, it is possible to have an idea of the kind and number of pieces of furniture that the legs of group 1 may constitute. They amount to at least nine pieces of furniture according to their lengths, which range from a minimum of 30cm to an estimated maximum of ca. 55cm. As there is usually no difference in the design of beds and stools, it would be unfair to declare to what kind of furniture these objects might belong. However, we must recall that the craftsmen who produced the Nisa furniture do not seem to have been seriously concerned with the load-bearing capacity of the items, which probably lacked any static function. The precise restitution of the set is further complicated by a certain asymmetry in the design and even in the size of the front and rear pairs of legs, a customary feature of furniture according to contemporary examples and depictions.27 Thus we cannot reach any certain conclusions about the actual number and original form of the furniture items of group 1. Group 2 Group 2 is represented by only four items, whose size and proportions differ slightly from each other. They thus do not seem sufficiently consistent to belong to a single piece of furniture. However, I cannot reject the hypothesis as a certain asymmetry in leg pairs is customary, as mentioned above, and may also be due to the fragmentary condition of these items. Their main design feature lies in the upper part of the shaft below the drum, into which the mortise insertions are cut. While in group 1a this section is flared and has a smooth surface, in group 2 it contains a sequence of mouldings made up of five to seven alternating tori and scotiae on a cylindrical shaft (Fig. 16).

23 24

25 26 27

Khachatrian 1992; Khachatrian 2011, fig. 4.8. See also Khachatrian 1998, 123, fig. 32. It is presumed that such reconstruction is based on the data collected on the excavation, but this is not very clearly told: see Khachatrian 2011, 17–24, fig. 4.1–7. Marshall 1951, pls. 20, 210h (wooden) and pl. 204s (bone). Askari Chaverdi-Kaim 2013, figs. 1–7. See, for example, Dentzer 1982, fig. 281; Baughan 2013, figs. 52, 168.

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The leg housed at the Hermitage Museum (no. SA-15047, Fig. 9b) is the only complete item, though it may be missing a short section of its shaft below the bell-shaped element, judging from some matching examples. The upper drum, in this case, is smooth without mortise insertions, thus its assemblage might be imagined as analogous to that of group 1b. However, the Soviet restoration was particularly heavy in this case, and the possibility that even the mortises were filled in cannot be excluded. The lower half of the leg below the moulded shaft is the most interesting part, as it bears a complex sculptural element, namely, a lion paw below two rows of stylised floral volutes. This design was clearly inspired by the royal Achaemenid throne, repeatedly depicted in Persepolis and Naqsh-i Rustam.28 The design of the Hermitage leg is slightly different, the volutes being absent from those Achaemenid samples, in which the floral element is a stylised wreath below, not above, the paw. Unfortunately, the item’s state of preservation has seriously worsened over the decades; the pictures published by PugachenFig. 16   Upper part of item no. 1bis, belonging to kova show a short lion paw that is now comgroup 2 (photo: E. Ghio) pletely lost.29 Today this part of the Hermitage shaft recalls instead the monumental pillars of the royal buildings at Apadana, where rows of volutes overlie a stylised, possibly floral element. The lower half of the Hermitage leg is concluded by a bell-shaped element that is customary in furniture from Nisa (as seen in group 1), while the Achaemenid examples usually conclude with a reversed wreath. Matching Samples in Group 2 Beyond the thrones depicted at Persepolis and Naqsh-i Rustam, we may recall a number of items (actual and depicted) that are very close to ones from the Achaemenid court, including the moulded shaft, the lion paw and the wreath. The Levantine region preserves some important examples; a leg and a mould allegedly from Samaria ended up in the antique market,30 while parts of such a throne were found in Athlit.31 Anatolia also offers examples of legs of a similar kind; the wooden items from the Dedetepe mound show only three rather than five mouldings on the upper shaft, as well as a lion paw.32 Further west, a substantial change occurs; a different typology is actually spread with multi-moulded legs that lack lion paws. This happens in Macedonia, where three examples of frit casing from Pella

28 29

30 31 32

See: Jamzadeh 1996 for a thorough discussion of the Achaemenid thrones. See: Pugachenkova 1966, fig. 5. The photo in Sarkosh Curtis 1996, 234, already shows the lost lion paw; the author therefore interprets it as a floral motif. Tadmor 1974, pls. 3–5. Rabin 1992, 36–39, figs. 5–9, 11. Sevinç et al. 1998, 313, fig. 12.

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Fig. 17   Drawing of Akchakhan ivory leg (by permission of KarakalpakAustralian Expedition, courtesy A. Betts)

contain repeated mouldings and a lower wreath.33 A ring from Pydna shows a goddess seated on a throne, the legs of which have multiple mouldings and a bell-shaped element, but again lack the lion paw. The lion paw is also absent from the moulded bed and stool depicted on two ivory plates from Demetrias, Thessaly,34 where the furniture and the entire scene reveal a high degree of mixed – Greek and Achaemenid – inspiration. Two silver-coated legs from a throne were recently found near Barrow No. 1 in Filippovka, located in the low Ural region, where Sarmatian tribes settled in the 4th century BCE.35 The objects have the same design as those previously mentioned, but the drum with mortises seems much shorter. The fact that it was found near but not inside the grave deserves attention. The contexts of both Nisa and Filippovka have funerary connotations inasmuch as the stools were used in some ritual ceremonies, but were not part of the grave’s actual furniture. Closer to the cultural context of Nisa and the Parthians in Chorasmia, are some wooden legs characterised by simple mouldings that belong to funerary couches of the 3rd–2nd century BCE found in the circular mausoleum of Asar.36

33 34 35 36

Andrianou 2009, 47, cat. 39, fig. 12. See also Paspalas 2000. Andrianou 2009, 78, cat. 77. See a detailed study of these items in Kurinskykh et al. 2013, figs. 3–4. Vajnberg-Levina 1993, 51–52, figs. 62–66. Warm thanks goes to G. L. Bonora for this information.

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From this same region, Chorasmia, which is historically and geographically linked to Parthia, comes the most stunning evidence related to the Hermitage sample, namely, the exceptional ivory leg recently found in Akchakhan Tepe by the Karakalpak-Australian Expedition (Fig. 17). Not only the item, but also the context in which it was discovered turned out to be exceptional, as the leg was found precisely on a fire altar, where it was exposed for a long time to ashes that gave it a dark grey colour. The date of this amazing artefact falls between the 1st century BCE and the 1st century CE, in other words, it is nearly contemporary with the sample from Nisa.37 While the latter contains geometric volutes, the leg from Akchakhan bears an elegant wing belonging to a hybrid feline whose front is missing, but who was apparently resting on the big lion paw below.38 Beyond differences in the details of their design, the Akchakhan and the Nisa legs share two ideologically charged, exceptional contexts with sacred meanings. While I will say some words on the latter in the concluding notes, I will simply point out here that the context in which the Akchakhan item was found physically embodies an illustrious iconography that is attested centuries later on hundreds of Sasanian coins, namely, a throne with moulded legs and a lion paw coupled with a fire altar.39 Another two items of group 2 are in the inventory. Unfortunately, only their upper halves with the mouldings are preserved, so we cannot tell whether they also featured sculptural elements in their lower half. Only one – no. 1 bis – has mortise insertions and a solid core; the other, no. 53, has no mortise insertions, is hollow inside, and merely bears the trace of an incision, possibly a guideline, which may testify to its ‘in progress’ status. Finally, no. 1946/21 bis is a small fragment preserving a scotia between two tori. It precisely matches the middle part of Hermitage leg SA-15047, which testifies to a common way of assembling such legs. However, the edges of its tori are very sharp (they even reveal raw traces of a knife cut), making it seem likely that this was also a fragment ‘in progress’, or even one that had been discarded. Other Items and Matches Beyond groups 1 and 2, there is one item that belongs to neither probably because it has been heavily affected by restoration. No. 2075 is a unicum with regards to both design and length, which is over 70cm. Its shape is unparalleled and consists of two main sections with a flared shaft, plus a bell-shaped terminal element with a short shaft on one side as well as a long cylinder probably meant to serve as a junction. This item could be seen as a ‘giant’ version of a leg in group 1b (though in the case of No. 2075 the moulding on the shaft is single, not double), but its reconstruction by the Soviet restorers is debatable and possibly does not match the original. It must also be noted that Pugachenkova turned the drawing upside down (with the thinner tip on top), interpreting it as part of a backrest. However, the fact that the original drawing shows it as connected to no. 1946/11 by an internal rod, clearly demonstrates that no. 2075 is a leg, while 1946/11 serves as the support of the armrest above the seat. These observations on the typological aspects of the furniture from Nisa would not be complete without any mention of the famous Begram hoard, probably the only lot of ivories from ancient Central Asia that is more remarkable than the one in Nisa. Its geographical and cultural context, namely Bactria under the Kushan Empire, and the objects that make up its inventory, compel us to mention it, though it is slightly later in date and different in terms of cultural and typological inspiration.40 A number of full ivory thrones belong in that inventory, but their typology has nothing in common with the furniture from Nisa. They are Indian both typologically and iconographically, have thin, curved, moulded legs and wide, elaborate backs with lots of finely carved plates and sculpted in the

37 38 39 40

Betts et al. 2016. A. Betts personal comment.. The detail is not visible in the reproductions in Betts et al. 2016. See, for example, Schindel 2014, pl. 1–6. See Mehendale 2001.

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round elements.41 Even depictions of furniture items on plates from Begram refer to Indian imagery; the sources, models and craftsmen have nothing to do with those of Nisa. A last thought needs to be noted here: Parthian coins usually bear the image of a king seated on a throne (with a bow in his hand) on their verso. Such coins are inspired by the Greek iconography of the seated god Zeus (with his own attributes in hand), minted on thousands of Hellenistic ones. It is therefore significant that the Parthian coins known to date never depict the throne legs of group 2, namely those of Achaemenid inspiration with the lion paw; instead they always depict the legs of group 1, namely, the Western kind. This, of course, may simply be the result of the partial archaeological documentation that we depend on or the approximate likeness of furniture details on small artefacts like coins. However, it does indicate that the model that Parthian kings looked at for their furniture was mainly Greek, not Iranian. This conforms with the alleged Arsacid ‘philhellenism’ openly declared by Mithridates through official nomenclature on coins, and is richly illustrated in the artistic program of the buildings and artefacts of Old Nisa.42 Ideological Remarks on the Ivory Furniture from the Square House Summing up, the ivories from the Square House have outstanding significance with regard to both technical features and typological aspects. Scholars have often devoted attention to individual artefacts within the Square House, but not enough to the whole context. However, the amount of ivory brought to light in Nisa is huge. Sources seldom speak of comparable amounts in ancient times, so it is worth discussing the possible function of both those artefacts and the building itself. Ivory artefacts can reveal important information on broader issues, such as the history of trade and the circulation of materials, craftsmanship and artefacts across continents in the late Hellenistic period. The furniture from Nisa may stimulate further reflection on the Parthian ideology of kingship, on the archaeological context of the Square House and on Nisa itself. In this regard I wish to point out some major issues that are discussed at length elsewhere.43 As they were discovered in one and the same room and are made of the same material, furniture and rhytons have to be considered together. Might those two classes of artefacts have had some other kind of connection? Another important issue is the provenance of the material; was all the ivory acquired (or gifted) at one and the same moment? Or was the collection amassed at different times? Moreover, did the ivory reach Nisa as raw material, namely, as tusks that remained to be carved? Or were the artefacts acquired from foreign workshops? Where might they have been located? Were they carved by a single workshop or by different masters? Moreover, what was the general purpose of such an acquisition, was it purchased or gifted? P. Bernard asserts that the rhytons were manufactured in Bactria, then looted and brought to Parthia. Is there any proof of such a provenance? The furniture lot includes complete and incomplete items as well as restored ones. Very few legs find their match within the inventory as they differ in size and technical features. Thus the minimum number of couches and chairs rises to ten at least, not three as noted by Pugachenkova.44 The furniture items were probably stocked in the Square House after being used for some time, while some incomplete items were brought there from workshops that were manufacturing new ones. As they were found together, were carved from the same material, constitute a typical set for banquets, and are physically and ideologically related, it is highly probable that rhytons and furniture were conceived together at one and the same moment and deliberately commissioned by (rather than gifted to) the Arsacid court in order to satisfy a precise ideological demand. The

41 42 43 44

Cambon 2007, figs. 191–209 (with previous literature). See Invernizzi 2001. Manassero 2018. Pugachenkova 1969, figs. 8–9.

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Fig. 18   Relief from the Nereids’ Monument depicting heroic banquet (by permission of J.-M. Dentzer)

artefacts were likely carved at the same time by different masters in different workshops (as is clear from the different hands perceived in the rhytons’ friezes)45 and were preserved in the Square House during its different stages of use. Such workshops could have been located in Nisa itself (or at the nearby site of New Nisa), as the noticeable traces of maintenance testify that craftsmen had settled in the area. As some items bear signs of work in progress, and discarded parts are attested as well, this could be evidence of the constant presence of local craftsmanship, which would have been needed to repair and substitute damaged items, even in later times. Local availability of highly specialised craftsmen is certified by a class of artefacts that were certainly manufactured in Nisa, namely, the clay statues brought to light in both the Round and Square Halls.46 Due to their extreme fragility, these unbaked clay statues could barely have been moved, so they must certainly have been made in Old Nisa, in the buildings where, in fact, they were found. Moreover, recent work in the South-West Building brought to light traces of a workshop that produced large statues of horses, as can be seen from plaster casts.47 Therefore, there is neither a need nor justification for pointing to other countries, such as Bactria, for the manufacture of other classes of findings inspired by the same aesthetic values. It is a fact that extremely skilled artisans produced outstanding clay statues in Nisa, and there is no reason to locate the craftsmen, who manufactured other artefacts as fragile as the ivory furniture and rhytons, elsewhere. The entire context of the Square House – its plan, the findings, the typologies of the two ivory artefacts – leads us to think that it was a monumental hall intended for banquets from the beginning. As convincingly demonstrated by A. Invernizzi on the basis of a number of comparisons to buildings in Macedonia and the Mediterranean Basin, the plan of the Square House is exactly that of a banquet hall.48 It was probably used as a treasury later as it was the only building on the site that delivered substantial findings. Nonetheless there is no definitive proof of this latter use. As regards its primary function, which is of interest here, we should always keep in mind the fact that Nisa was founded by King Mithridates who declared himself a philellenos. The idea that Greek ideological inspiration must have underlay the banquets performed in the building thus gains strength. Based on hundreds of reliefs from Greece, Anatolia etc., it can easily be observed

45

46 47 48

Pappalardo 2011, 267–269, sustains that the manufacture of rhytons spans some 150 years, from the 1st century BCE to the 1st century CE; I prefer to interpret the different styles as due to different contemporary workshops and craftsmen, not as a stylistic evolution over time. Invernizzi 2001, fig. 4–7. Lippolis 2011. Invernizzi 2000.

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that couches and rhytons are the main elements in the Greek iconographic topos of the ‘banquet of heroes’.49 The heroised dead are depicted lying on couches, while other furniture items like stools often stand at their side. The dead often pour from rhytons, namely, drinking horns with a spout (Fig. 18). These are expressly ceremonial vessels, their practical use being hampered by their non-functional structure. For this reason they were used in libations over graves connected with the cult of heroes.50 Such a funerary context is in perfect agreement with the information given by Isidorus of Charax though still unconfirmed by excavations: “Parthaunisa is where the tombs of the Parthian kings are.” By virtue of this source, furniture and rhytons may reveal that the banquets held at the Square House were actual embodiments of heroic banquets, ceremonies like those depicted on funerary slabs and paintings, in which people make libations with rhytons while reclining on couches. Such banquets are shaped on the model of the Greek theoxenia and the Roman lectisternia and sellisternia, that is, banquets at which empty beds or chairs were supposed to host the invited gods, mostly the Dioscuroi and Herakles, as well as the deified Roman emperor. From this arises the idea that the Square House may have hosted sacred banquets for the dead king, on which occasions he was celebrated as a hero and entered the gods’ sphere. The Iranian festival called Frawardigan, which was held for the frawashis on the final days of the year,51 is also comparable to such a ritual and fits into the syncretistic milieu of the Arsacid religion,52 but a specific celebration for the dead king in keeping with the Western model of the theoxenia seems much more fitting. In Nisa the dead king might have sat on the throne and the gods might have lain on the couches later buried in the Square House. Diodorus refers to such a banquet held in 318 BCE in Persepolis under the Macedonians,53 which was celebrated in honour of Alexander and Philip and the gods by four circles of guests surrounding their altars. Such rituals involving an empty throne and couches would also explain why the furniture is so weak, with legs that were sometimes hollow and could barely bear a man’s weight. “Bien plus que salle de banquet, la chambre funéraire est le cadre d’une prothesis éternelle pour un défunt héroisé.”54 Slightly changing Guimier-Sorbets’ words, I would say that the Square House was the place where the ideal heroic banquet was enacted and from where the dead king was projected into the heroic sphere – into eternity. Acknowledgements: The research and compilation of this manuscript were made possible through a generous grant from the Shelby White & Leon Levy Program for Archaeological Publications. I want to thank in particular Professor Chris Hallett, who kindly allowed me a one-year delay in the commencement of the project. This research also could not have been achieved without the support of the Centre for Archaeological Researches and Excavations of Turin (CRAST), in the person of Professor Carlo Lippolis. I wish to express my deepest gratitude to Dr. Mohammed Mamedov, Chief Department of Culture of Turkmenistan, and Dr. Owez Mametnurow, Director of the National Museum of Ashgabat, for letting me inspect and document the materials preserved there. I also thank Zhanna Etsina and Andrej Omelchenko of the State Hermitage Museum of St. Petersburg, for providing me with pictures and drawings of the one item preserved there, the leg SA-15047. A warm thanks goes to Dr Allison Betts, Director of the Karakalpak-Australian Expedition, for introducing me to and letting me reproduce the outstanding ivory leg from Akchakhan Tepe. Last but not least, I wish to thank my friends and colleagues Dr. Giorgio Affanni and Dr. Elena Ghio for their precious collaboration at the Ashgabat Museum in September 2013.

49 50 51 52

53 54

Dentzer 1982. Contra Grenet 2015, 518, n. 12: on the sacredness of rhytons, see: Hoffmann 1989 and Manassero 2010, 240–252. Yt. 13.49. See: Boyce 1970; Malandra 2001. The religion of the Arsacids is a delicate issue much debated among scholars that I will not touch here. See: De Jong 2015 with previous literature. Diod. Sic. XIX 22.1–3. Guimier-Sorbets 2001, 223.

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Sarkosh Curtis 1996 V. Sarkosh Curtis, Parthian and Sasanian furniture, in: G. Herrmann (ed.), The Furniture of Western Asia. Ancient and Traditional. Papers of the Conference held at the Institute of Archaeology, University College London, June 28 to 30, 1993 (Mainz am Rhein 1996) 233–244. Schindel 2014 N. Schindel, Sylloge Nummorum Sasanidarum. The Schaaf Collection, Veröffentlichungen zur Numismatik 58 (Vienna 2014). Sevinç et al. 1998 N. Sevinç – C. B. Rose – D. Strahan – B. Tekkök-Biçken, The Dedetepe tumulus, Studia Troica 8, 1998, 305–327. Simpson 1995 E. Simpson, Furniture in ancient Western Asia, in: J. Sasson – J. Baines – G. Beckman – K. S. Rubinson (eds.), Civilizations of the Ancient Near East 3–4 (Peabody 1995) 1647–1671. Stein 1940 A. Stein, Old Routes of Western Iran (London 1940). Tadmor 1974 M. Tadmor, Fragment of an Achaemenid throne from Samaria, Israel Exploration Journal 24, 1, 1974, 37–43. Vajnberg – Levina 1993 Б. И. Вайнберг – Л. М. Левина, Чирикрабатская культура, Низовья Сырдарьи в древности 1 (Moscow 1993).

Women Enthroned: From Mongol to Muslim Sheila Blair 1 Abstract: Enthronements from the Mongol period, described by Western travellers and depicted in various arts in China and Iran, show how the status of women changed over the course of the 13th and 14th centuries. Woman had high standing in traditional steppe culture, as demonstrated by their position seated just to the left of their consorts in official enthronements from the 13th century. But as the Mongols integrated with sedentary society over the course of the 14th century, particularly in Iran, the status of women changed, and they were no longer depicted in a fixed position beside their husbands wearing distinctive Mongol headgear. This change is evident in various depictions of court enthronements composed on paper but executed in other media, first under the Ilkhanids, the Mongol rulers of Iraq and Iran, and then under their successors, such as the Injuids who took over in south-western Iran, the Jalayirids who ruled in the northwest, and the Timurids who succeeded the Ilkhanids in the east. Keywords: enthronement, khatun, women, Mongol, Yüan, Ilkhanid

At the turn of the 13th century, the Mongol chieftain Temüjin, later granted the title Chinggis Khan, established the largest contiguous land empire ever known, stretching from the Yellow Sea to the Dnieper River. After his death in 1227, his vast territories were divided among members of his family, who eventually set up separate khanates. In 1271 Qubilai (r. 1260–1294), Chinggis’s grandson through his youngest son Toloi, established the Yüan dynasty in northern China. Chinggis’s second son, Chaghatay, founded the Chaghatayids, rulers of Central Asia until c. 1370. Batu, son of Chinggis’s eldest son Jochi, formed the Golden Horde, rulers of southern Russia (1241–1502), and Qubilai’s brother Hülegü set up the Ilkhanate (1256–1335), which ruled Iraq and Iran. The three khanates in west Asia eventually adopted Islam as the state religion: the Chaghatayids officially under Mubarakshah (r. 1266), the Ilkhanids under Ghazan in 1295, and the Golden Horde under Özbek (r. 1313–1341).2 As in many steppe cultures, women held high status among the Mongols.3 Princely consorts, usually known as khatuns, had their own encampments and appanages, which they used for their own financial benefit and to pursue their own political agendas. Women received a share of booty and had significant purchasing power, trading directly with merchants. They drove trains of as many as 20 to 30 carts. Sometimes they even ruled in their own name.4 Bruno de Nicola has recently shown how the economic status of Mongol women changed in the Ilkhanate in order to accommodate the needs of its large sedentary population, particularly in the mid-14th century following the institution of economic reforms during the reign of Ghazan (1295–1304).5 Visual evidence of enthronements confirms that change in women’s status among the Ilkhanids and their successors – the Injuids in southwestern Iran, the Jalayirids in the northwest, and the Timurids in the northeast – as a sign of Mongol identity increasingly becoming tied with Iranian-Muslim culture.6

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Formerly Norma Jean Calderwood University Professor of Islamic and Asian Art, Boston College and Hamad bin Khalifa Endowed Chair of Islamic Art, Virginia Commonwealth University; [email protected]; ssblair@ vcu.edu. Biran 2004, 353; Melville 1990; and Jackson 2005 describe the various conversions of the three rulers. The scholarship on the Mongol women begun by Rossabi 1979 has been growing rapidly in recent years; see, for example: Brack 2011; De Nicola 2013; Pfeiffer 2014; May 2016; De Nicola 2016b; Broadbridge 2017; De Nicola 2017. De Nicola 2016a discusses the rule of the Chaghatayid queen Urghina Khatun. De Nicola 2016b. Preliminary versions of this argument are presented in Blair 2005 and Blair 2014, 203–205, but without exploring the economic and social contexts behind the changes.

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Traditional Mongol Enthronements European visitors to the Mongol court in the 13th century often made reference to the status of its women, perhaps because it differed so much from that at home, and perhaps because these missionaries hoped to enlist the women in converting the Mongols.7 John of Plano Carpini, who led the first formal mission from Pope Innocent IV to the Mongols in the 1240s, described the court of Batu, who sat raised up as if enthroned with one of his wives, while male relatives sat below on the ground on the right and females on the left.8 The court of the Great Khan in Mongolia, although more sumptuous, was ordered in the same way. The khan sat on an ivory throne with a rounded back that was studded with gold, precious stones and pearls. Steps led up to it. Ladies sat to the left, with the courtiers in serried ranks in front.9 The chronicle by Friar William of Rubruck, who travelled to the court of the Great Khan Möngke in the early 1250s, is even more detailed. The Flemish Franciscan monk included a long description of women’s role in the household, their dress, and their duties.10 The Mongols, Rubruck noted, lived in tents that were always pitched with the doorway to the south, and the master couch at the northern end. He added that Batu sat on a throne that was deep and broad like a couch and completely overlaid with gold, with three steps leading up to it. One of his wives sat at his side, with male courtiers to his right and female ones to his left. In front of them was a bench with kumis (fermented mare’s milk) served in large gold and silver goblets decorated with precious stones.11 Marco Polo, who set off from Venice in 1269 and returned to the city in 1293, where he later recounted his travelogue, confirmed that the same seating arrangement held at the court of Qubilai (r. 1261–94), founder of the Yüan dynasty. The merchant reported that on any great court occasion, the khan’s table was elevated above the others at the north end of the hall, looking southward, with his chief wife sitting beside him to his left, his male relatives to his right, and his court arranged in front in ranked places around a square table for gold and silver pitchers and handled cups. Wives were always present.12 There are no contemporary depictions of these Mongol enthronements described by European travellers, but individual portraits of the Mongol khan and his consort from the Yüan period (1271–1368) confirm the position of the khatun seated to the khan’s left. A pair of silk portraits, probably done by the Tibetan artist Anige (1245–1306) and now in the National Palace Museum in Taipei, depicts Qubilai and his favourite wife, Chabi (d. 1281).13 Qubilai is recognizable as a Mongol khan by his looped hairstyle and his robe that crosses to the right – details mentioned by several chroniclers. Friar Rubruck, for example, reported that Mongol men braided their hair in plaits, which they looped around their ears, and that the Mongols always tied their tunics to

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Ryan 1998. Dawson 1955, 57. Dawson 1955, 64–65. Rubruck 2009, 72–78, 88–89, 90–96. Rubruck 2009, 132. Marco Polo, chapter 13, I: 381–86; Donovan 1988–1989, 9–11. The Moroccan Ibn Battuta who visited the camp of Muhammad Özbek, khan of the Golden Horde, in the spring of 1334 noted the high esteem for women and described a similar enthronement of the khan seated in a gold pavilion on a wooden couch covered with plaques of silver gilt and supported on legs of silver encrusted with precious stones and flanked by his four wives with his sons and other courtiers arrayed in front. The khan’s favorite wife, however, was seated not to the khan’s left but to his right (Ibn Battuta, Vol. 2, 480–496). As we have no depictions of this, we do not know whether Ibn Battuta was speaking of the khan’s right as the visitor faced the throne or whether the arrangement of khan and khatun had shifted in the Golden Horde by the mid-14th century. These portraits are often reproduced; see, for example: Jing 1994, figs. 1–2; Fong – Watt 1996, pls. 136–137; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, figs. 14 and 27; Watt 2010, cover and fig. 7.

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the right, unlike the Turks, who tied theirs to the left.14 The Mongol style of tying the robe to the right is also confirmed by statues found at the ruins of the early Yüan capital, Shangdu, near present-day Duolun in Inner Mongolia, as well as by extant robes excavated in Mongolia.15 Chabi is recognizable as a Mongol khatun by a similar robe and the distinctive tall headdress known in Persian as a bughtaq. Rubruck, who calls this headdress a bocca, describes it as made of tree bark, more than a cubit high, and square at the top like the capital of a column. Hollow inside, it was covered with a silk cloth and extended at the top with feathers.16 Extant examples bear out the traveller’s lengthy description. This headgear, which measured nearly 90cm in height when intact, comprised a column-shaped bark cloth, padded with silk wadding and covered by a cloth cut in the shape of a hat with lappets reaching the shoulders. The hat was attached under the chin by a secondary hat with a hole in the middle, through which the bark column projected.17 Chabi’s bughtaq, as befits her rank, is studded with pearls. While the pair of silk portraits, probably done posthumously, depicts both the Yüan emperor Qubilai and his wife Chabi staring out towards viewers, their faces are not exactly frontal, but slightly turned. Qubilai’s right ear is visible, showing that he is looking slightly to his left.18 Chabi, by contrast, gazes slightly to her right. These half-length portraits were the models for full-length ones depicting the pair seated on Buddhist platforms, as described in literary sources.19 Such hanging portraits were intended to be shown together as a pair, with Chabi to Qubilai’s left (the viewer’s right), as in the seating arrangement mentioned by visitors to the Mongol court as standard protocol. Such an arrangement of the khatun set to the left of the khan is confirmed in other Yüan-period depictions of the royal court, such as Liu Guandao’s scroll of 1280 showing Qubilai hunting, also in the National Palace Museum in Taipei.20 Qubilai, wearing a fur coat on top of a Mongol robe tied to the right and embellished with gold, is set in the middle ground, with Chabi, wearing an equally fancy robe tied to the right and decorated with a cloud collar, mounted to her husband’s left. Even more telling is a large mandala made for Qubilai’s grandson Toq Temür (r. 1329–1332, with interruption) and his elder brother Qutuqtu (r. 1329) with their consorts.21 A large depiction of the deity Vajrabhairava occupies the centre of the silk tapestry (Fig. 1). At the bottom are four portraits identified by inscriptions in Tibetan. The two men seated at the left of the tapestry are the Mongol emperors, who, like Qubilai, are facing slightly to their left. The two women seated to their left (the viewer’s right) are their consorts, again, like Chabi, identifiable by their bughtaqs and again facing slightly right. The mandala shows that the official arrangement of khatun on the khan’s left remained standard under the Yüan into the early 14th century. This arrangement of the wife seated to her husband’s left is more variable in funerary images from the Yüan period, as shown by family portraits in several tombs.22 The woman is often, though not always, set to the man’s left. One particularly informative example, however, is the large mural behind the funerary bed on the north wall of a tomb dated 1269 that was discovered

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Rubruck 2009, 88; John of Plano Carpini also mentioned the khan’s braided hairstyle and robes tied on the left with one tie and then on the right with three (Dawson 1955, 7). For the statues, see: Steinhardt 2009, 165 and figs. 45–46; for the robes see: von Folsach 2013, figs. 228a–c; Kadoi 2014, fig. 6; Ward 2014, fig. 29; and Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.9. Rubruck 2009, 88–89. Several bughtaqs have recently been acquired by the Museum of Islamic Art in Doha (Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.7; Blair – McCausland forthcoming, fig. 9) and the Mardjani Foundation in Moscow (Ward 2014, fig. 8). Jing 1994, 75, also makes this point. Jing 1994, 75, note 172. Jing 1994, fig. 14; Fong – Watt 1996, fig. 168; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, fig. 77; Watt 2010, fig. 267 (detail). Metropolitan Museum of Art 1992.54. Online (last accessed 22 July 2019); Fong – Watt 1996, figs. 101–103; Watt – Wardwell 1997, no. 25; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, no. 185, figs. 125–126; Watt 2010, fig. 146. Rawson 1984, fig. 132; Jing 1994, fig. 13; Steinhardt 2009; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.4.

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a

b

c

Fig. 1   a: Silk tapestry dedicated to Vajrabhairava with four portraits of Mongol rulers and their consorts at the bottom. China, 1330–1332. b: Detail from the bottom left showing the Mongol rulers Toq Temür and his older brother; c: Detail from the bottom right showing the rulers’ consorts (Metropolitan Museum of Art 1992.54. Purchase, Lila Acheson Wallace Gift, 1992)

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in Donger village, Pucheng county, Shaanxi province. Like the court depictions, it is a formal portrait. Both occupants sit on folding chairs with rounded backs, a type of furniture known in pre-Mongol times and adopted by the Mongols, and used, for example, as seats for the headless statues in Mongol dress found at the summer capital Shangdu.23 The deceased wears a flapped cap, and his wife has a tall bughtaq. They are flanked by standing servants of the same sex as the deceased and his wife. Their feet rest on footstools. Nearby is a square table with vessels. Although the arrangement of the figures follows the protocol of the Mongol court, the inscriptions on the tomb suggest that the occupants were actually Chinese who wished to portray themselves as high-ranking Mongols. They deliberately used pose, posture, furniture and dress to underscore what they perceived as desirable Mongol identity. Mongol Enthronements in the Ilkhanate The fragmentary visual evidence of enthronements from Yüan China is confirmed in fuller images of official Mongol enthronements made for the Ilkhanids, the collateral line of Mongols in Iraq and Iran. The best examples once adorned early 14th-century manuscripts of the volume on the history of the Mongols compiled by the vizier Rashid al-Din. Ghazan had asked his vizier to compile a history of Chinggis Khan and his family, and Ghazan’s brother and successor Öljeytü (r. 1304–16) asked the minister to expand the chronicle, adding a second volume on the non-Mongol peoples of Eurasia and a third one on geography. Completed c. 1310, this expanded, three-volume version became known as the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh (‘Compendium of Chronicles’).24 The first volume of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh is one of our most important sources for Mongol history, for in compiling it the author had access to much first-hand material from China – not only oral documentation from envoys such as the Yüan ambassador Bolad, but also archival material, printed books and manuscripts, some of which must have had illustrations.25 No illustrated copies of this volume on the Mongols survive intact from the period, but 49 illustrations detached from a manuscript made c. 1315 have been mounted in several albums in the Staatsbibliothek, Berlin (Diez A, fol. 70–72),26 with four similar illustrations in another album in the Topkapı Palace Library, Istanbul (H2153).27 Based on size, the detached illustrations from the history of the Mongols fall into three groups and, judging from similar scenes in later manuscripts, depict different subjects within the reigns of individual but unnamed sovereigns.28 The largest double-page paintings show an enthroned couple surrounded by courtiers (Fig. 2); these large illustrations correspond to the second section on each ruler’s reign, entitled surat-i takht (‘picture of the throne’).29 These official depictions of the enthroned ruler and consort always show the couple seated on a high-backed, usually tripartite throne with dragon-headed finials and a low pedestal base or dais, typically with cusped feet, and a curtain draped in front.30 The couple sit on a large, sausage-like cushion and rest their feet on footstool(s),

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See above, note 17. On the text see: Melville 2008 and Blair 2000. The text of the first volume on the Mongols has been translated by Wheeler Thackston: Rashid al-Din 1998. Ipşiroğlu 1964, 15–32; Roxburgh 1995, 116; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, nos. 18–19, figs. 84, 133 and 222; Kadoi 2017. Karamaǧaralı 1968; Cağman – Tanındı 1986, nos. 43–44; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, fig. 85; Ward 2014, no. 16; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.3. Rührdanz 1997; Wright 2012, 36–40; Ward 2014, no. 16; Kadoi 2017. Berlin, Diez A, folio 70, S. 10 and S. 5; Diez A 70, S. 21 and S. 11, folio 70, S. 23 and S. 20; Istanbul, TKS H.2153, folio 23b (right half of a double-page composition) and folio 148b (right half of a double-page composition). On Mongol thrones see: Rawson 1984, 147–163 and Donovan 1988–1989, which analyzes them from a portion of vol. 1 of Rashid al-Din’s chronicle Jamiʿ al-tavarikh in Edinburgh University Library (ms. Arab. 20). This throne corresponds to his Type B (Donovan 1988–1989, 24–34), a type he traces back in the Near East to Achaemenid prototypes.

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with the khatun always seated to the khan’s left. As in the silk portraits of Qubilai and Chabi, the khatun always looks to her right at the khan, who faces slightly left, looking at her. The typical hat of the khan has a flap and is bedecked with two large owl feathers and three narrow eagle feathers.31 The khatun’s high status is indicated by her tall bughtaq and often by a small handled cup, which she sometimes holds on her own and sometimes shares with her consort. Such handled cups, produced in both gold and silver, are known from the territory of the Golden Horde and elsewhere.32 Members of the court are arranged in the same way as the royal couple, with female relatives to the khan’s left, male relatives to his right, and his courtiers, including guards, musicians, dancers, falconers and viziers, arranged around a low table with flasks, spouted vessels and cups. Often one of the khatun’s attendants (in Fig. 2, the attendant standing just behind the throne) carries a bag with a prominent flap. The princes, who wear hats bedecked with a facing pair of large, rounded owl feathers in front of several narrow eagle feathers, sometimes sit on folding stools, a type of seating known in China at least from the Tang period and perhaps introduced from the West.33 The depictions in the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh thus conform to visitors’ textual descriptions of Mongol enthronements and banquets. Much the same type of enthronement is also depicted in three smaller, full or half-page illustrations from the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh.34 They illustrate receptions and events in the second and third parts of each reign. They show the same arrangement of the khatun sitting to the khan’s left on an elaborate throne with dragon-headed finials, a draped curtain, cushion(s) and footstool(s) and many accoutrements, including gold cups and tables with vessels, but smaller entourages. These large official portraits of the court differ from the third type of illustration in the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh, the 11 smallest (6×6cm) images, each of which depicts an enthroned royal couple more informally (Fig. 3).35 These small images illustrate the genealogical tables in the introductory section of each reign, and the poses and accoutrements in them are more variable. The figures are often seated on cushions, sometimes on a throne, usually without a back and never with dragon-headed finials. The khatun wears a bughtaq, and the khan wears a hat with two owl feathers, but only a single eagle feather. The figures also lack other royal accoutrements such as gold cups. Usually the khatun is to the khan’s left, but in two cases (curiously the two with the backed thrones) the figures are set the opposite way around.36 These small illustrations are more informal depictions, some of ancestors, and thus the seating could vary, as in the tomb paintings from Yüan China. But in official depictions of the full court in the large and medium-sized illustrations, the khatun is always placed to her husband’s left, with ladies to the left and men to the right, exactly as described by European chroniclers. These images of the Mongol khan and khatun enthroned together differ sharply from the typical enthronement of pre-Mongol times in Iran and surrounding regions, which typically show the ruler alone. Good examples are the well-known depictions of the vizier and later ruler of Mosul, Badr al-Din Lu’lu’. Several full-page depictions fill the frontispieces to a multi-volume copy of the Kitab al-Aghani (‘Book of Songs’), compiled between 1216 and 1220.37 The patron wears a sharbush, a stiff cap trimmed with fur that rises to a slightly triangular front and has a metal plaque above the forehead. His robe ties to the left in the Turkish style, as distinguished by Rubruck.38 Male pages stand at attention on both sides. Badr al-Din sits not on a throne, but on a folding stool because the manuscript was produced when he was still vizier to the Zangid ruler

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Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.8 illustrates an extant hat. Komaroff – Carboni 2002, nos. 139 and 149; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.16. On the folding stool, see FitzGerald 1965; Donovan 1988–1989, 16–23, Type A. Berlin, Diez A, folio 70, S. 22; folio 71, S. 48; folio 71, S. 52. Also illustrated in Komaroff – Carboni 2002, fig. 133 and Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.17. Two examples of this type of small genealogical portrait are also included in a copy of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh in Tashkent (ms. 1620) that probably dates to the second half of the 14th century (Ismailova 1980, no. 2; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.19). Berlin, Diez A, folio 71, S. 41–44 and S. 63–61; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.15. Ettinghausen 1962, 65; Sims 2002, fig. 54; Ward 2014, fig. 25; Blair 2015, 57–58. Rubruck 2009, 88.

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Fig. 2   Mongol enthronement that once illustrated the section of the text entitled ‘Picture of the Throne’ from a manuscript of the first volume of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh, probably Tabriz, c. 1315 (Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Orientabteilung, Diez A, fol. 70, S. 23, #1)

Fig. 3   Enthroned couple that once illustrated the genealogical tables in a manuscript of the first volume of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh, probably Tabriz, c. 1315 (Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin – Preußischer Kulturbesitz, Orientabteilung, Diez A, fol. 71, S. 63, #6)

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of Mosul, Nasir al-Din Mahmud. Only after 1234, when Badr al-Din assumed direct rule, was he shown on a permanent throne, as in the red-ground frontispiece to a copy of the Kitab al-Dhiryaq (‘Book of Antidotes’), probably made in Mosul in the mid-13th century. There he sits on a golden throne surrounded by scenes of hunting, feasting, music, games and travel that reflect the typical pastimes of a Turkish ruler.39 Like the Mongol enthronements, the depictions of Badr al-Din in the frontispieces are official portraits, and like other pre-Mongol examples from the Islamic lands, they show only the prince, typically with his male retinue. The standard type of Ilkhanate enthronement with the khatun seated to the left of the khan is repeated with variations on other contemporary objects. One example is a handsome inlaid bronze bag with a hinged flap, attributed to Mosul and datable to the early 14th century.40 The bag belongs to the type often depicted in the illustrations of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh (see Fig. 2) as a woman’s accessory, perhaps for jewels or important documents. The detailed scene across the centre of the lid shows a couple seated on a pedestal throne with straight legs and no back.41 It has ball joints decorating the struts and may have been made of wood or of wood and metal.42 The khatun again sits to the khan’s left, and they turn slightly towards each other, as in the portraits of Qubilai and Chabi and the scenes from the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh. He drinks from a cup; she holds a round fruit, probably a pomegranate. They are flanked by male servants bearing royal accoutrements. On the female side, the attendants hold a mirror, a handkerchief and a folded parasol on a pole. Those on the male side offer beverages from flasks and pouring bowls set on a square table. Although the scene follows Mongol protocol, the figures do not seem to be high-ranking members of the Ilkhanid court as the male figures wear flat, Mongol-type hats with flaps but no feathers, and she does not wear a bughtaq. The unit of the enthroned couple with the khatun on the khan’s left and wearing Mongol dress soon evolved further, as shown by the second generation of paintings produced under royal auspices in Iran during the second quarter of the 14th century. The vignette of a seated couple occurs in a painting of ‘Nushirwan eating food brought by the sons of Mahbud’ from the Great Mongol Shahnama (‘Book of Kings’) produced in Tabriz in the 1330s (Fig. 4).43 Most enthronement scenes in the manuscript revert to the standard type used in Iran showing the ruler alone, but this painting includes a seated couple. The text around the painting concerns an evil vizier, Zuran, who attempts to poison the ruler and is condemned to the gallows, but the illustration focuses on a royal scene. On the right two attendants guard the entrance to a palace. Ladies peer down from the upper story. Inside the palace is a courtyard with a fishpond and a tree. A royal couple, turned slightly towards each other, sit on a rug with a geometric design and kufesque border behind a balustrade overlooking the courtyard. Both seated figures wear crowns and robes that tie to the right and hold kerchiefs in their left hands. The ruler’s robe is decorated with gold; he holds a beaker in his right hand. She wears a transparent short veil (miqnaʿa) and holds a gold pomegranate in her right hand. The scene thus has many elements of a royal Mongol enthronement, but with crowns and a veil instead of Mongol headgear, a palace instead of rows of courtiers in an open-air setting, and a rug instead of a throne. The Evolution of Mongol Enthronements in Iran in the Mid-14th Century With the repetition of images in Persian art during the 14th century, the fixed iconography of both pose and dress in Mongol enthronements begins to shift further, particularly on objects made for the Injuids, rulers in southwestern Iran. Sent by the Mongol khan Öljeytü in 1304 to administer

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Vienna, Nationalbibliothek, A. F. 10, illustrated in Ettinghausen 1962, 91; Ward 2014, fig. 20. Ward 2014; Blair 2014, 208–209, fig. 5.21. This corresponds to Donovan 1988–1989, Type C, 34–41. Ward 2014, 89 makes this suggestion. Metropolitan Museum of Art 52.20.2. Online (last accessed 22 July 2019). Grabar – Blair 1980, no. 56, 168–69; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, no. 59, fig. 274; Ward 2014, fig. 50.

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the royal estates (inju) in Fars, they became independent rulers from 1335 to 1357. A good example of such an enthronement is found on a large, but much abraded inlaid tray in Tbilisi, most recently attributed to the southern city of Shiraz, 1345-60.44 The inscription to an unnamed sultan who bears the title ‘heir to the kingdom of Solomon’ and the decoration in roundels are typical of the school of metalworking associated with the province of Fars in southwestern Iran, but the scene in the middle showing a high-ranking Mongol khan and khatun is strikingly similarly to the enthronements from the Jamiʿ al-Tavarikh, with additional pairs of winged figures above and below the enthroned couple. They sit on a platform throne supported on tall, twisted columns with doubled feet and dragon-headed capitals. Suspended from the front is a scalloped design resembling a cloud collar instead of the curtain seen in the detached illustrations from the Jamiʿ al-Tavarikh. The khatun sits to the khan’s left, looking slightly to the side at him. Each wears a standard Mongol robe that ties to the right. The khatun has a bughtaq as well as a short veil. One of her attendants carries a bag with a flap, the same type shown in the detached illustrations (see Fig. 2). The khan sports a hat with owl and eagle feathers. The attendants offer accoutrements and play musical instruments. The close relationship between manuscript painting and inlaid metalwork is not surprising, for these objects, which have been dubbed ‘paintings in silver and gold,’ were produced not only by copying but also using pricked drawings.45 The scene continues to evolve in other metalwares made in Shiraz under the Injuids, as on a well-preserved inlaid candlestick made by Saʿd ibn ʿAbdallah for Shaykh Abu Ishaq (r. 134353).46 The base here is decorated with four roundels, each with an enthroned figure or, in one case, a couple. Taking the roundels in the order of the dedicatory inscription, they show: (1) an enthroned Mongol khan with an elaborate headdress with eagle and owl feathers; (2) an enthroned prince wearing a pointed hat; (3) an enthroned couple, he wearing a pointed hat and she a bughtaq; and (4) an enthroned khatun with bughtaq and short veil. All the scenes on the candlestick are set on platform thrones supported on double column bases, like the throne shown on the Tbilisi tray, although their sides differ. The throne for the khan has high sides and a tall triangular back; the other three have low sides and no back. In the three scenes that include a male, the thrones are set over addorsed lions with winged angels overhead, as they are on the tray.47 The throne for the khatun is different: it has a panel front and no lions or angels. None of the scenes includes a footstool. The exact iconography of the scenes on the candlestick as well as the identification of the figures on this superb candlestick remain unclear. It may have been a gift as the inscriptions on the neck and shoulder edge offer good wishes ‘to you’ (laka), suggesting that the craftsman may have personally known the recipient, Abu Ishaq.48 If so, one wonders whether it may have been intended to mark a marriage, for the scene of the khatun enthroned shows her gesturing with her right hand toward a standing male servant, who leads a smaller female figure by the hand. At the opposite side stand two female servants, one holding a flapped bag and the other proffering a book. For the purposes of this essay what is interesting is the depiction of the enthroned couple, in which the khatun sits to the khan’s right, and he holds a cup in his left hand. The repeated reversal of left and right confirms the suggestion that these images could have been reproduced with pricked drawings, hence easily flipped. But the repeated reversal on this object dedicated to

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Georgian National Museum, Or. 3830; Komaroff 1994, fig. 7; Ward 2014, no. 20. Recent cleaning and conservation have made many of the details clearer. Komaroff 1994, 13–14; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, 278. Doha, Museum of Islamic Art MW.122.1999; Komaroff 1994, fig. 10; Allan 2002, no. 6, 34–39; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, no. 162, fig. 224; Wright 2012, 31–43 and fig. 22; Blair 2014, 176 and 205, fig. 5.2. The angels differ somewhat. The pair at the top of the tray flank a sun disk. In the first scene on the candlestick, they stand on the capitals of the throne and hold a canopy over the khan’s head. In the second scene they fly overhead with a flask between them, perhaps anointing the prince. In the third scene the angels seem to converse with each other, one holding up its finger in amazement and the other pointing to the couple below. Allan 2002, 35, makes this suggestion.

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the ruler of region also shows that the Mongol custom of the consort seated to the khan’s left was becoming less significant under the Injuids. Such divergence from Mongol protocol is even stronger on other objects. This is the case, for example, on the left half of a double frontispiece from a large poetic anthology entitled Mu’nis al-ahrar fi daqa’iq al-ashʿar (‘Free Men’s Companion to the Subtleties of Poems’), transcribed by the compiler Muhammad ibn Badr al-Din Jajarmi and finished during Ramadan 741/February-March 1341 (Fig. 5).49 The painting shows an enthroned couple on an awkwardly drawn throne. It has a high back, but instead of the side panels of the segmental type depicted in the illustrations of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh (see Fig. 2), it has an outer frame – a wooden one, judging from the colour – supported on cusped feet. The couple sits on a cushion from which a curtain drapes to the floor. The khatun sits to the khan’s right, as on the candlestick. She wears neither a bughtaq nor a veil; he has a Mongol-type hat with two owl feathers but seven eagle feathers, a vast inflation in number. All the servants are male and wear the same type of flapped hats shown on the tray and the candlestick. The frontispiece is done in the same pigments used for the six illustrated folios within the text, but is more awkward in style and somewhat restored and retouched. Several scholars have suggested – correctly in my view – that the otherwise unknown compiler, transcriber and artist, Muhammad Jajarmi, added the frontispiece to an already completed manuscript in the hopes of finding a buyer, perhaps the Injuid Abu Ishaq, who assumed rule in Shiraz in 744/ late 1344, minting coins in his own name and having his name announced in the Friday prayer.50 The suggestion of an adopted ‘royal’ iconography is borne out by the fact that other contemporary manuscripts, such as a copy of the Persian national epic known as the Stephens Shahnama, have similar scenes with the figures reversed.51 Elaine Wright interpreted the frontispiece in the Mu’nis al-ahrar as Abu Ishaq’s deliberate “appropriation of Ilkhanid dynastic imagery,”52 but it can also be seen to illustrate a change in the nature of authority and identity. The Ilkhanids were Mongols; the Injuids, originally their deputies, were Persians. They framed kingship in more traditional Iranian ways. Hence the standard Mongol protocol of the court, seen in such features as the khatun seated to the khan’s left in an open-air setting, robes that tie to the left, khatuns wearing the bughtaq and men of the royal family wearing flapped hats with owl and eagle feathers, no longer held sway. Figures could be reversed in position. Different hats were added to the sartorial repertory. So were veils, at times with and at other times in place of the bughtaq. Sometimes Mongol protocol continued, especially when illustrations were produced through the use of pricked drawings. One of the earliest surviving examples is found in a copy of an anthology copied at Shiraz in 813/1410 by Mahmud ibn Murtada al-Husayni.53 This scene of an enthroned couple closely follows the type used to illustrate the copy of Rashid al-Din’s history of Mongols made in the early 14th century (see Fig. 3), not surprisingly, as Basil Gray pointed out, because pouncing was used to produce the outline of the composition.54 But figures were often reversed as the position of the woman no longer carried significance. For example, in a manuscript of Khwaju Kirmani’s three poems made in Baghdad under the Jalayirids in 798/1396 (London, British Museum Add. 18113, fol. 43), the royal couple is seated in

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Dar al-Athar al-Islamiyya, Kuwait City, LNS 9 MS, fol. 2a; Swietochowski – Carboni 1994; Komaroff – Carboni 2002, no. 9, fig. 261; Wright 2006, 260–265, fig. 35; Wright 2012, 36–42, fig 24. Komaroff – Carboni 2002, 146. The suggestion by Wright that the intended recipient was Abu Ishaq, the Injuid ruler of Shiraz (Wright 2006; Wright 2012, 42), is more plausible than that made by Soudavar that it is Suleyman, the puppet who was raised to the Ilkhanid throne by the Chupanids in 1339 and ruled until 1343 (Soudavar 1996, 210, n. 98). On loan to the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, DC LTS1998,1.1.3a; Wright 2006; Wright 2012, fig. 25. Wright 2006, 268. Lisbon, Gulbenkian Foundation, LA 161, fol. 260b; Gray 1979, fig. 74; Kadoi 2017, fig. 9.14. Gray 1979, 134.

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Fig. 4   Enthroned couple in ‘Nushirvan Eating Food Brought by the Sons of Mahbud’, folio from the Great Mongol Shahnama, Tabriz, 1330s (Metropolitan Museum of Art 52.20.2. Purchase, Joseph Pulitzer Bequest, 1952)

the Jasmine Garden on an elaborate tripartite throne, their courtiers arranged around them in rows. Humay and her female retinue, however, are positioned on the right, the opposite of standard Mongol protocol.55 The iconography of enthronements is similarly loosened in later historical manuscripts about the Mongols, as, for example, in a scene depicting Tumanba, one of the ancestors of Chinggis

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Khan, and his family, which was detached from a copy of the Chinghiznama made for the Mughal emperor Akbar c. 1596.56 The illustration shows the couple seated on a throne, but the consort is to the right of the khan. The couple wear Muslim-type headdresses (a turban and a veil, respectively, both with aigrettes). Their nine sons are ranged in front on the left, each of them wearing a Mongol headdress festooned with multiple feathers. But more often in later Persian painting made for other Mongol and Turkic courts, enthronements reverted to the traditional composition showing the ruler alone. This is the case in the opening double-page scene in a copy of the Zafarnama (‘Book of Victory’) transcribed in 872/1467– 68 for the Timurid ruler Sultan Husayn.57 The illustration shows the ruler Timur, founder of the dynasty, giving audience in Balkh when he assumed the line of succession of the Chaghatay khans. The warlord is enthroned on a rug in a garden with his male courtiers ranged around him. Dressed in a green robe with a crown and aigrette, he sits cross-legged on a tripartite throne with low sides that surround the ruler, whose right foot is firmly planted on a matching footstool. A tented canopy behind and over his head underscores his status. Courtiers, both standing and seated, are arranged in a circle around him, while to his right five subservient Chaghatay khans kneel on one knee to show their submission. Servants bring in a banquet behind them. The first of six double-page compositions in the manuscript, the scene is a riff on the standard enthronement scene from 14th-century copies of the Jamiʿ al-tavarikh (see Fig. 2), but here the ruler is depicted alone on the throne surrounded only by males. Conclusion Traditionally scholars, particularly Iranian (male) historians, have taken a dim view of the Mongol period, citing “the harmful influence of women” in the Ilkhanid court as contributing to the “moral depravity of the time.”58 This assessment is changing. Bruno de Nicola has traced the evolving economic status of women from the Mongolian steppe in the late 12th century through the Mongolian world empire to its dissolution into khanates, particularly the Ilkhanate in Iran in the 14th century.59 He has shown that Mongol women’s wealth was initially based on booty and their participation as consumers of luxury goods and investors in the commercial enterprises of Eurasian and European travellers. In the early Ilkhanate, Mongol women maintained their income from booty and trade, but added revenues obtained from the productivity of lands allotted to them for taxation. Around the turn of the century in Iran the reforms of the ruler Ghazan initiated a change as the state took an increasing share of female property and women’s economic status then declined. The analyses of the status of women by De Nicola and others are based on written sources, and to these we can add visual ones to document these changes, as the paintings and portable objects made for the Mongols are some of the few to depict women so prominently. Enthronements in particular show the evolving status of women. Held in high esteem in steppe culture, women were traditionally set to the left of their consorts in the early Mongol period. Illustrations from the Yüan period in China and the early Ilkhanate show them together on the throne interacting affectionately with their husbands, sharing a cup or interlocking their arms. But as the Mongols were gradually integrated into Persian society, the status of women changed. They were no longer shown in the standard position on the left in enthronements, and eventually they were not depicted at all.

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Metropolitan Museum of Art 48.144. Online (last accessed 22 July 2019). Baltimore, John Work Garrett Library of the John Hopkins University, fol. 82b–83a; Gray 1979, fig. 105 (right half only); Lentz – Lowry 1989, no. 147 and 264–265; Natif 2002, 213–214; Sims 2002, no. 34. Limbert 2004, 76 and n. 10, citing the works of Enjavi-Shirazi and Zarin-Kub. De Nicola 2016a.

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Fig. 5   Enthroned couple from the left side of the frontispiece in a copy of the Muʾnis al-ahrar fi daqaʾiq al-ashʿar, Isfahan, 1341 (Kuwait, Dar al-Athar al-Islamiyya LNS 9. Ms 2R. © The al-Sabah Collection, Dar al-Athar al-Islamiyyah, Kuwait)

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References Allan 2002 J. W. Allan, Metalwork Treasures from the Islamic Courts (Doha, London 2002). Biran 2004 M. Biran, The Mongol transformation from the steppe to Eurasian empire, Medieval Encounters 10, 2004, 339–361. Blair 2000 S. Blair, Jāmeʿ al-Tawarīk, ii. Illustrations, Encyclopaedia Iranica, online edition 2000. Online ( last accessed 19 July 2019). Blair 2005 S. S. Blair, Islamic art as a source for the study of women in pre-modern societies, in: A. Sonbol (ed.), Beyond the Exotic. Women’s Histories in Islamic Societies (Syracuse 2005) 336–347. Blair 2014 S. S. Blair, Text and Image in Medieval Persian Art (Edinburgh 2014). Blair 2015 S. S. Blair, Une brève histoire des portraits d’auteurs dans les manuscrits islamiques, in: H. Touati (ed.), De la Figuration Humaine au Portrait dans l’Art Islamique (Leiden 2015) 31–62. Brack 2011 Y. Brack, A Mongol princess making hajj. The biography of El Qutlugh, daughter of Abagha Ilkhan (r. 1265–82), Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 21,3, 2011, 331–359. Broadbridge 2017 A. F. Broadbridge, Marriage, family and politics. The Ilkhanid-Oirat connection, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 26, 1, 2017, 121–135. Çağman – Tanındı 1986 F. Çağman – Z. Tanındı, Topkapı Saray Museum. The Albums and Illustrated Manuscripts (Boston 1986). Dawson 1955 C. Dawson, Mission to Asia. Narratives and Letters of the Franciscan Missionaries in Mongolia and China in the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Centuries (London 1955 [repr. Toronto 1980]). De Nicola 2013 B. De Nicola, Ruling from tents. The existence and structure of women’s ordos in Ilkhanid Iran, in: R. Hillenbrand – A. Peacock – F. Abdullaeva (eds.), Ferdowsi, the Mongols and Iranian History. Art, Literature and Culture from Early Islam to Qajar Persia (London 2013) 126–136. De Nicola 2016a B. De Nicola, The Queen of the Chaghatayids. Orghīnā Khātūn and the rule of Central Asia, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 26, 1–2, 2016, 107–120. De Nicola 2016b B. De Nicola, The economic role of Mongol women. Continuity and change from Mongolia to Iran, in: B. De Nicola – C. P. Melville (eds.), The Mongols’ Middle East. Continuity and Transformation in Ilkhanid Iran, Islamic History and Civilization 127 (Leiden, Boston 2016) 79–105. De Nicola 2017 B. De Nicola, Women in Mongol Iran: The Khatuns, 1206–1335 (Edinburgh, 2017). Donovan 1988–1989 D. Donovan, The evolution of the throne in early Persian painting. The evidence of the Edinburgh Jāmiʿ al-tāvarīkh, Persica 13, 1988–1989, 1–76. Ettinghausen 1962 R. Ettinghausen, Arab Painting (Geneva 1962). Fitzerald 1965 C. P. FitzGerald, Barbarian Beds. The Origin of the Chair in China (London 1965).

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Fong – Watt 1996 W. C. Fong – J. C. Y. Watt (eds.), Possessing the Past. Treasures from the National Palace Museum, Taipei (New York 1996). Grabar – Blair 1980 O. Grabar – S. S. Blair, Epic Images and Contemporary History. The Illustrations of the Great Mongol Shahnama (Chicago, London 1980). Gray 1979 B. Gray (ed.), The Arts of the Book in Central Asia. 14th–16th Centuries (Boulder 1979). Ibn Battuta H. A. R. Gibb (ed.), The Travels of Ibn Battuta A.D. 1325–1354 (New Delhi 1993 [1962]). Ipşiroğlu 1964 M. Ş. Ipşiroğlu, Saray-Alben. Diez’sche Klebebände aus den Berliner Sammlungen (Wiesbaden 1964). Ismailova 1980 E. M. Ismailova, Oriental Miniatures of the Abu Raihon Beruni Institute of Orientology of the UzSSr Academy of Sciences (Tashkent 1980). Jackson 2005 P. Jackson, The Mongols and the faith of the conquered, in: R. Amitai – M. Biran (eds.), Mongols, Turks and Others. Eurasian Nomads and the Sedentary World, Brill’s Inner Asian Library 11 (Leiden 2005) 245–290. Jing 1994 A. Jing, Portraits of Khubilai Khan and Chabi by Anige (1245–1306), a Nepali artist at the Yüan court, Artibus Asiae 54, 1–2, 1994, 40–86. Kadoi 2014 Y. Kadoi, Textiles in the Great Mongol Shahnama. A new approach to Ilkhanid costumes, in: K. Dimitrova – M. Goehring (eds.), Dressing the Part. Textiles as Propaganda in the Middle Ages (Turnhout 2014) 153–165. Kadoi 2017 Y. Kadoi, The Mongols enthroned, in: J. Gonnella – F. Weis – C. Rauch (eds.), The Diez albums. Context and Contents, Islamic Manuscripts and Books 11 (Leiden 2017) 243–275. Karamaǧaralı 1968 B. Karamaǧaralı, Camiu’t-tevarih’in bilinmeyen bir nüshasina ait dört minyatür, Sanat Tarihi Yıllığı 2, 1968, 70–86. Komaroff 1994 L. Komaroff, Paintings in silver and gold. The decoration of Persian metalwork and its relationship to manuscript illustration, Studies in the Decorative Arts 2, 1, 1994, 2–34. Komaroff – Carboni 2002 L. Komaroff – S. Carboni (eds.), The Legacy of Genghis Khan. Courtly Art and Culture in West Asia, 1256–1353 (London 2002). Lentz – Lowry 1989 T. W. Lentz – G. D. Lowry, Timur and the Princely Vision. Persian Art and Culture in the Fifteenth Century (Los Angeles 1989). Limbert 2004 J. Limbert, Shiraz in the Age of Hafez. The Glory of a Medieval Persian City (Seattle 2004). Marco Polo The Book of Ser Marco Polo the Venetian, Concerning the Kingdoms and Marvels of the East, newly translated and edited, with notes by H. Yule (London 1903 [New York 1993]). May 2016 T. May, Commercial queens. Mongolian Khatuns and the Silk Road, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 26, 1–2, 2016, 89–106.

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Melville 1990 C. Melville, Pādeshāh-i Islam. The conversion of Sultan Ghazan Khan, Pembroke Papers 1, 1990, 159–177. Melville 2008 C. Melville, Jāmeʿ al-Tawarīk, Encyclopaedia Iranica XIV, 5, 2008, 462–468. Online (last accessed 19 July 2019). Natif 2002 M. Natif, The Zafarnama [Book of Conquest] of Sultan Husayn Mirza, in C. Hourihane (ed.), Insights and Interpretations. Studies in Celebration of the Eighty-Fifth Anniversary of the Index of Christian Art (Princeton 2002) 211–228. Pfeiffer 2014 J. Pfeiffer, ‘Not every head that wears a crown deserves to rule’. Women in Il-Khanid political life and court culture, in: Ward 2014, 23–29. Rashid al-Din W. M. Thackston, (ed.), H. Rashīd al-Dīn, Jāmiʿ al-tavārīkh. Compendium of Chronicles. A History of Mongols, Sources of Oriental Languages and Literatures 45 (Cambridge, MA 1998). Rawson 1984 J. Rawson, Chinese Ornament. The Lotus and the Dragon (London 1984). Rossabi 1979 M. Rossabi, Khubilai and the women in his family, in: W. Bauer (ed.), Studia Sino-Mongolica. Festschrift für Herbert Franke (Wiesbaden 1979) 153–180. Roxburgh 1995 D. J. Roxburgh, Heinrich Friedrich von Diez and his eponymous albums. MSS. Diez A, fols. 70–74, Muqarnas 12, 1995, 112–136. Rührdanz 1997 K. Rührdanz, Illustrationen zu Rašīd al-Dīns Ta’rīh̢-i mubārak-i Ġāzānī, in: D. Aigle (ed.), L’Iran Face à la Domination Mongole, Bibliotheque Iranienne 45 (Tehran 1997) 295–306. Rubruck The Mission of Friar William of Rubruck. His Journey to the Court of the Great Khan Möngke, 1253–1255, translated by P. Jackson (Indianapolis 2009). Ryan 1998 J. D. Ryan, Christian wives of Mongol Khans. Tartar queens and missionary expectations in Asia, Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society 8, 3, 1998, 411–421. Sims 2002 E. Sims, Peerless Images. Persian Painting and its Sources (New Haven 2002). Soudavar 1996 A. Soudavar, The Saga of Abu-Saʿid Bahador Khan. The Abu Sa`idname, in: J. Raby – T. Fitzherbert (eds.), The Court of the Il-khans 1290–1340 (Oxford 1996) 98–215. Steinhardt 2009 N. S. Steinhardt, Yüan period tombs and their inscriptions. Changing identities for the Chinese afterlife, Ars Orientalis 37, 2009, 140–174. Swietochowski – Carboni 1994 M. L. Swietochowski – S. Carboni, Illustrated Poetry and Epic Images. Persian Painting of the 1330s and 1340s (New York 1994). von Folsach 2013 K. von Folsach, A set of silk panels from the Mongol period, in: S. Blair – J. Bloom (eds.), God is Beautiful and Loves Beauty. The Object in Islamic Art and Culture. Proceedings of the Fourth Biennial Hamad bin Khalifa Symposium on Islamic Art (London 2013) 217–242.

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Ward 2014 R. Ward (ed.), Court and Craft. A Masterpiece from Northern Iraq (London 2014). Watt 2010 J. C. Y. Watt, The World of Khubilai Khan. Chinese Art in the Yüan Dynasty (New York 2010). Watt – Wardwell 1997 J. C. Y. Watt – A. E. Wardwell, When Silk was Gold. Central Asian and Chinese Textiles (New York 1997). Wright 2006 E. Wright, Patronage of the arts of the book under the Injuids of Shiraz, in: L. Komaroff (ed), Beyond the Legacy of Genghis Khan (Leiden, Boston 2006) 248–68. Wright 2012 E. Wright, The Look of the Book. Manuscript Production in Shiraz 1303–1452 (Washington 2012).

Solomon as Kosmokratōr and the Fashioning of his Mechanical Throne from a Comparative Perspective Allegra Iafrate 1 Abstract: This paper offers some reflections on a paradigmatic royal seat, that of King Solomon, by surveying some of its most notable written (and rarely depicted) descriptions from roughly the third to the thirteenth century. Through this analysis I intend to develop three main points of interest: the connection between power and technology and the way in which mechanical wonders, such as automata, became part of the courtly language of self-representation, mostly between Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages; the shared dimension of this language and the circulation of visual topoi of kingship common to Jews, Christians, and Muslims; and finally, the constant, porous and dynamic interaction between sources (oral, visual, and textual) and actual settings. As we shall see, the relationship between descriptions and objects, in dialogue through the centuries, prompted the constant update and revival of ancient traditions, which, far from being static and immutable, were altered and modified in response to the surrounding context. Keywords: automata, cosmic kingship, Solomon, throne, kosmokratōr, throne, Magnaura

The son of David is presented in the Bible as the wisest of monarchs and in the Qurʾān as king and prophet. He is therefore equally relevant to Jews, Christians, and Muslims, the three main religious cultures of the peoples inhabiting the vast territories between Persia and the Mediterranean Basin.2 Besides being recognized for his religious importance, Solomon acquired political implications thanks to this shared scriptural heritage, particularly between Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages, a phase in which he came to represent a sort of ideal monarch, an acknowledged model of the kosmokratōr3 and the ‘king of the earth’.4 His figure became invested with contemporary political aspirations for cosmic and universal rule, as expressed in various writings between the fifth and thirteenth centuries. Indeed, interestingly enough, in a historical period characterized by the progressive desegregation of the two principal geo-political blocks (the Roman and Sasanian Empires)5 and active conflicts among new, emerging sovereigns, the ideal rule of Solomon was nonetheless shared and equally understood as a sort of meta-reflection on kingship. It is this specific segment of the story that I would like to illuminate here through a case study of his throne. 6 It seems possible to argue that the interest in Solomon as a universal ruler went hand in hand with a renewed interest in describing his seat as a symbol of power par excellence.7 It does not seem

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Kunsthistorisches Institut Florenz – Max Planck Institut, Italy; [email protected]; [email protected]. Verheyden 2012. The term kosmokratōr, literally ‘cosmic ruler’, began to be associated with Roman emperors during the 2nd century AD. The title gained strength under Constantine the Great and later became common for most Christian Byzantine rulers in their role as vicars of Christ; see Brown 2001, 88–89. This notion of a sort of universal kingship usually referred to four sovereigns: Alexander the Great, Ahasuerus, Nebuchadnezzar, and Solomon. However, sometimes the list is longer and encompasses ten kings. On this point, see Ginzberg 1954, 198–199 and Lassner 1993, 204. Whether the idea of a cosmic ruler (kosmokratōr) corresponds precisely to that of ‘king of the earth’ is uncertain, but that both notions applied to kings whose power transcended local geographical boundaries and aspired to universalism is beyond doubt. Canepa 2009. On this topic, see: Boustan 2013; Iafrate 2015. The tradition of the Solomonic throne is both nuanced and rich in religious, symbolic, and political implications. The Bible already equates the seat of Solomon to that of God in some sense, thereby creating a sort of divine correspondence, explored primarily in Hebrew mysticism; see: 1 Chron. 28:5; 1 Chron. 29:23; 2 Chron. 9:8. On the symbolism of the merkavah, see Halperin: 1980; Halperin 1988. In Christian medieval iconography, the Solomonic throne has been associated mostly, but not solely, with the Virgin Mary, metaphorically considered the holy vessel and sedes sapientiae as well as the receptacle of God incarnate, since Solomon belonged to the line of Jesse and tended to be interpreted by early Christian authors as a figura Christi; see Piper 1872; Wormald 1961; McKenzie 1965; Forsyth 1972; Azcárate Luxán – González Hernando 2008. Ragusa 1977 has underscored the judicial component of the throne

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coincidental that parallel to the interest in Solomon as kosmokratōr and king of the earth, we witness a gradual re-fashioning of his seat with new elements from a precious throne, presumably with statues, as it is described in the Bible, to one with mechanical wonders, as it appears in rabbinical commentaries, Muslim chronicles, and the imagery of certain Eastern Christian sovereigns. I use the term ‘wonders’ in the sense proposed by Caroline Bynum, meaning ‘the skilfully made’, and a ‘series of objects and events that were staged or constructed’ in order to elicit a specific reaction in the viewer.8 Indeed, with a few notable exceptions, none of the available sources describe in detail the nature of these new features, but they all clearly show that they were made to amaze and to impress (although their performance was not necessarily convincing).9 Certain lexical suggestions do make reference to mechanisms or machinery and seem to suggest that the original description of Solomon’s throne was progressively enriched through the use of technology, particularly automata, a class of items capable of emitting sound or, in more refined and complex forms, of performing autonomous movements thanks to mechanisms set in motion by air or water pressure. These were basically self-moving (or self-resounding) objects or rudimentary robots belonging to a typology of devices well attested in the writings of engineers since Hellenistic times.10 In addition to their sound-motion dimension, they were meant to offer the viewer a complex, multisensory experience, addressing not only hearing, sight, and touch, but also smell, since they were often activated in combination with the burning of fragrances and perfumes. This change in the features of the royal seat depended, I believe, on the parallel use of technology in actual palace settings (royal baths,11 clocks,12 throne halls13), which was relatively widespread, albeit not necessarily easily accessible to anyone. The overall impression, then, is that the reader of these texts should be surprised and possibly frightened by the qualities of the Solomonic seat and made to ponder over the aesthetic effect created by its features rather than able to figure out how they actually worked. The ambiguity of such mechanisms – the fruit of a technology known only to a few people – would have instilled in most viewers a sense of mystery, the feeling of witnessing something supernatural, almost magic. Furthermore, I would argue that a subterranean connection existed between the use of a certain technology and the lingering notion of cosmic kingship as scientific innovation offered the possibility of giving inanimate objects a chance to appear life-like through sound and movement.14 The

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of Solomon in the context of the Last Judgement; Heck 1995 and Heck 1997, 134–137 has explored the notion of the throne of Solomon as a meditation tool, as a spiritual ladder for devotional practices. In the Qurʾān, the throne holds an interesting place within the narrative regarding the legitimacy of the kingship of Solomon, which is tested and questioned by the presence of a ‘deceptive body’ on the royal seat and the consequent exile of Solomon, a theme discussed in a rich succession of commentaries, on which see Klar 2004; Sivertsev 2013. Finally, one should also briefly mention the tradition of the flying throne, dear to Islamic lore – probably derived from the Quranic notion that Solomon could control the winds (hence, according to some commentaries, fly) – which associated the ability of reaching distant lands in a short time with the presence of ancient cities considered to be of Solomonic foundation. Behind this series of legends lay a serious concern: the need to find a unifying principle that could tie together the progressively vaster territory controlled by the new Muslim conquerors, on which still stood the imposing ruins of past civilizations. The flying throne of Solomon therefore provided a sort of symbolical premise to the universal rule exerted over such a scattered empire; Mottahedeh 2013. On the throne in the Islamic world, see also n. 36. Bynum 1997; see also Daston – Park 1998, 88–108. On the notion of mystery, see also: Shalem 2006. Visiting the throne-hall of Constantinople in 949, the ambassador Liudprand of Cremona stated that he failed to be impressed by the set of automata, knowing in advance the way in which the mechanisms worked; in this sense, his knowledge of the facts (or scientia, as Bynum would have), undermined the intended effect of the show. See below, n. 44. Philo; Drachmann 1948; Hill 1984; Hill 1995. See also: Roby 2016 for a recent work on technical ekphrasis. Magdalino 1984; Magdalino 1988. Flood 2001, 114–138. Herzfeld 1920; Saxl 1923; Christensen 1936, 466; Ackermann 1937; Lehmann 1945; Alföldi 1950; Polak 1982, 164–167; Flood 2001, 114–118; Duggan 2009; Caiozzo 2010, 251–252, 257–258. A topic investigated in a seminal series of studies by L’Orange 1953; see also Lehmann 1945; Flood 1999. Originally, the notion of cosmic kingship implied that the monarch was not only the head of his state but a figure connecting

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sovereign who could exert this kind of control would then have been indirectly seen as emulating the divine power of creation, thus placing himself in the long succession of cosmic rulers capable of enlivening things and exerting control over natural elements. A second aspect, I believe, merits attention. The visual vocabulary of medieval kingship owed much – as is often said15 – to a visual repository of ancient derivation, resurfacing in historical contexts quite distant from those in which it was shaped. It thus contributed to a sort of repertoire of visual topoi of kingship and cosmic power that included: heavenly ascension/apotheosis; references to solar animals such as lions, eagles, griffins, and bulls, or else to sacred trees or plants/paradisiacal settings; architectural settings with cosmic overtones, typically domes or cities; placement among the signs of the Zodiac; godly gestures of power; the fashioning of thrones in symbolic ways, etc. Such a pool of notions could be effectively exploited by different sovereigns, who could conveniently choose which one best suited their political and symbolic interests. Indeed, some of these motifs were usually reproduced on textiles, boxes, jewellery, and plates that constituted objects of gifting, plunder, and exchange. This paper, in a way, aims at paralleling and strengthening the thesis, well explored by historians and art historians, that sovereigns of different religious traditions and conflicting political aspirations resorted to a similar language of self-representation – a sort of koiné of kingship, an international vocabulary of power, which would have been equally understood in Constantinople and Egypt, Baghdad and Spain.16 The way I have chosen to illustrate this phenomenon however, is by focusing not on actual, living sovereigns and their visual politics, but on Solomon and his ideal, paradigmatic throne. Although my approach does not confront actual pieces directly, it does provide a case-study of a literary object, which not only can successfully be used to illuminate such dynamics in the longue durée, but also shows in great detail the trajectories of the constant, visual updating of the throne of the ideal monarch through sources produced by opposing religious and political actors. Textual Sources and Material Survivals The sources on which this research is based are chiefly textual and consist mostly of rabbinical commentaries (midrashim or targumim), Byzantine accounts, embassy descriptions, chronicles written in Arabic or Persian – a series of various texts ranging approximately from the third to the thirteenth century and composed for very different purposes and in very different styles. Within this variegated corpus, the throne appears mostly as a ‘literary’ object, that is, one for which it is difficult to identify an actual counterpart in reality, even if the accounts often do incorporate realistic details derived from actual thrones. None of these texts, however, can be safely considered (or was necessarily meant to be) a faithful description of a known royal seat of its period. They were not crafted with a documentary purpose; thus, any insertion of elements may represent a symbolic or narrative choice by the compiler. Nonetheless, there is at least one significant moment in which our descriptions definitely represent the transcription of something real. It occurs in Constantinople, in the tenth century, when a throne flanked by moving and sound-generating statues is actually devised in explicit Solomonic terms and is thus described in contemporary sources. Unfortunately, even in the case of this historical instance we have nothing but written and partial descriptions. In fact, no material evidence

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heaven and earth, endowed with both human and divine features, hence the true axis and balance of the cosmos. The king was ascribed power over men and nature, made responsible for the fertility of his land (controlling weather, animals, plants) and placed in a transcendent and sacral dimension, beyond the sheer political and human level. Grabar 1971; Grabar – Grabar 1976. Hoffman 2007.

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Fig. 1   Bronze griffin, probably early 11th century CE, Pisa, Museo dell’Opera del Duomo (photograph by permission of Opera della Primaziale pisana, 2015)

survives to evoke the mechanical wonders registered by the extra-scriptural tradition with which I am dealing. On the top of the cathedral of Pisa, however, stands a majestic bronze griffin (Fig. 1), probably brought to the city as part of the booty amassed by the Pisan fleet during one of its raids of Muslim settlements in the Mediterranean.17 It is a product of eleventh-century Islamic craftsmanship, and, like many similar objects, was for a long time considered a piece of a fountain.18 Now, however, it has been identified as one of the few surviving medieval automata.19

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The griffin currently visible on top of the cathedral is a copy; the original is on display in the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo. Bernus-Taylor 1989, 154, no. 127; Déléry 2012. Contadini et al. 2002. On the same topic, see: Camber 2014, 256, no. 152; Contadini 2018.

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The griffin is usually associated and studied in comparison with the bronze lion of the MariCha collection in Hong Kong, which exhibits similar features in terms of decoration, inner mechanism, and function. There is general agreement among scholars that the inscriptions decorating both animals were carried out by the same workshop at the beginning of the twelfth century. However, while the engraving on the lion was done immediately after the piece was cast in the early twelfth century, the one on the griffin was added to a piece that had been manufactured almost a century earlier to match the one on the lion – a fact made evident not only by stylistic but also by iconographical comparison: a griffin is represented on the leg of the lion, while a lion appears on that of the griffin. Finally, the bladder inside the griffin, which led Anna Contadini to identify the object as an automaton, was added at a second stage, while the one in the lion was cast along with the rest of the animal. All this led Richard Camber and Peter Northover to hypothesize that both the decoration and the internal structure of the griffin were added to harmonise with those of the other piece, and thus the two constituted a consistent set. The animals, though made on two separate occasions and possibly in different places, were probably grouped as a consistent ensemble at a later phase.20 Although both the original and secondary contexts of the objects’ use are unknown, contemporary scholars have noted the symbolic resonance of this specific pair of royal animals and have brought in as a comparative material some of the accounts written by Byzantine chroniclers that describe the automata adorning the Constantinople throne.21 Given the paucity of historical information regarding the provenance, commission, and repurposing of the lion and griffin, it is, of course, difficult to posit a direct evocation of the earlier Byzantine throne hall. In fact, although both animals were certainly endowed with royal connotations, it is important to remember that as figurative motifs, they were also part of a stock vocabulary denoting luxury and frequently replicated on textiles, metalwork, and other media. Nonetheless these two bronze objects are nearly the sole survivors of medieval automata, a typology of objects frequently mentioned in both historical and narrative sources but rarely preserved, which makes their inclusion inevitable in the historiographical discussions about a mechanical Solomonic throne, which, as I have mentioned, at certain points became strongly characterized by the presence of this kind of technology.22 I therefore mention them at the beginning of this contribution as a sort of partial material compensation. While the throne of Solomon of biblical memory is widely represented, its later evolution with automata is not associated with a rich autonomous iconographic tradition. Thus, by necessity all studies on the topic tend to repeat a very limited catalogue of illustrations. For this reason, even if the Pisa griffin or the Mari-Cha lion cannot be explicitly associated with the tradition of the mechanical Solomonic throne on safe historical grounds but only by way of analogy, the two creatures embody – in terms of both the iconography of power and the technology employed – the closest visual approximation of one of its pieces.23 In this context, in fact, it is also important to underline the importance and difficulty of bronze casting as a technique, which certainly contributed to the creation of a ‘technology of power’ to which the name of Solomon had been inextricably associated ever since its earliest biblical occurrences and throughout the Middle Ages.24

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Camber 2014, 256; Contadini et al. 2002. Brett 1954; Dagron 2003. The topic of the throne of Solomon in various cultures has been discussed particularly by Cassel 1853; Perles 1872; Cassel 1874; Wünsche 1906; Eisler 1910, Vol. I, 136; Salzberger 1912; Alföldi 1950; Brett 1954; Wormald, 1961, 538; Ville-Patlagean 1962; Soucek 1993; Ego 2001; Boustan 2013; Milstein 2015. The presence of metal griffins in the Magnaura throne hall is only indirectly attested, although the analysis of extant sources seems to confirm this point; for a more precise discussion of this matter, see: Iafrate 2015, 69–72. On the famous bronze basin in Solomon’s Temple and its conflation with the theme of Solomon’s throne, see Weinryb 2016; on bronze casting as a Solomonic prerogative and specific working technique during the High Middle Ages (opus Salomonis), see: Iafrate 2016.

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Fig. 2   Detail of the Solomonic throne with lions and eagles, fresco from the synagogue of Dura Europos, ca. 245 CE, Damascus, National Museum (photograph by permission of Herbert Kessler, 2015)

The Progressive Creation of an Automatized Throne The earliest mention of the throne of Solomon appears in the Bible (1 Kings 18–20; 2 Chronicles 9:17–19), where it is described as an ivory and golden seat with a round back, surrounded by lions and located on a six-step platform – a set of elements that, taken together (or represented only partially), was to characterize its Christian iconography during the Middle Ages. The most frequently recurring features are its two lions, usually depicted in correspondence with its armrests (although the Scriptures mention twelve more – two for each of the six steps, but not always included).25 The biblical text seems to imply – albeit not explicitly – that these animals were sculpted representations, not actual wild beasts, and that they constituted the decorative facies of the seat, the excellence of which, in terms of craftsmanship, was deemed unparalleled. However, a deviation from the biblical ekphrasis appears as early as the third century in a fresco of the Synagogue of Dura Europos, which does not seem to closely follow the scriptural description (Fig. 2).26 In it, Solomon is surrounded not only by lions but also by eagles, an addition that could be explained as a reference to the custom of pairing these royal animals in certain courtly contexts.27

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“King Solomon also made a great throne of ivory: and overlaid it with the finest gold. It had six steps: and the top of the throne was round behind: and there were two hands on either side holding the seat: and two lions stood, one at each hand. And twelve little lions stood upon the six steps on the one side and on the other: there was no such work made in any kingdom” (1 Kings, 10:18-20). The text is taken from the Douay-Rheims edition. For a philological discussion of this passage, see: Canciani – Pettinato 1965. Gutmann 1988; Weitzmann – Kessler 1990; Wharton 1994; Wharton 1995, 38–51. Levit-Tawil 1983.

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In general, there seems to be a constant shift in the type of birds of prey described on the throne steps: eagles in Jewish midrashim, griffins in Byzantine sources, vultures in Arabic chronicles.28 This discrepancy can probably be explained as the result of a choice in translation from Hebrew to Arabic. However, it remains problematic to establish whether the Byzantine griffins are an echo of the Hebrew eagles. If so, we need to imagine that the Byzantine emperors were aware of the midrashic tradition of the Solomonic throne with both eagles and lions and fashioned their own accordingly. However, such a hypothesis is difficult to prove. I prefer to consider the presence of griffins in Constantinople as a coincidental insertion of another royal bird that was probably associated with the throne for different, symbolic reasons. This shift from the biblical description, made apparent in the frescoes, is paralleled and clarified in a series of rabbinic texts, which probably began being written down in around the 5th or 6th century (but were most likely in circulation much earlier, as the paintings seems to suggest), and which indirectly provide an explicit commentary on the silent visual evidence in the synagogue’s mural decoration.29 In the Midrash Esther Rabbah, one of the most ancient rabbinic commentaries on the Book of Esther, for instance, not only are both lions and eagles mentioned in relation to the Solomonic throne, but the animals are described in movement and as helping the king reach his seat. They are also entrusted with a protective function: that of preventing the ascension of those sovereigns who stole Solomon’s throne and tried to sit on it after his death,30 for these were unworthy of the role of universal monarch. Ahasuerus, in fact, was not allowed on the throne because his kingdom was considered ‘defective’, or, as the text clarifies, because the king was not a ‘kosmokrator ba-‘olam’ (‫)קוזמיקרטור בעולם‬, literally a ‘cosmic ruler of the whole earth’. The midrash resorts to a lexical loan from Greek to indicate the superior quality of the kingship of Solomon and explicitly connects his throne to such a universal role.31 This may be the earliest known explicit mention of the mobile properties of the statues adorning the throne. The Midrash Esther Rabbah, however, does not explain how the motion was performed or made possible, or even specify whether the lions and eagles were living creatures or statues. In other words, it is not clear whether the movement mentioned in the text should be considered natural, supernatural, or humanly generated. The Midrash Leviticus Rabbah, a commentary on Leviticus, probably also dating to around the 5th or 6th century, presents us with slightly different details. It specifies, in fact, that one of the lions struck and maimed a usurper trying to get too close to the top of the seat,32 thereby clarifying that the Solomonic throne concealed dangerous ‘workings’. The term is a translation of the Hebrew word ‘manganayken’ (‫)מנגנאיקן‬, which recurs in the manuscripts. Other common lections, however, are ‘manganon’ (‫‘ )מנגנון‬mechanism’, ‘minhag’, (‫‘ )מנהג‬custom’, and ‘signon’ (‫ )סגנון‬literally ‘style’. The versions using ‘manganon’ or ‘manganayken’ seem to certify a direct linguistic borrowing of the term manganon,33 a choice that mirrors the technological influence of Greek science and possibly refers to the presence of a peculiar mechanical device, which, given the circumstances, could be interpreted as an automaton. In sum, while the biblical text mentions a throne decorated with the statues of lions, the fresco in Dura Europos and the Midrash Esther Rabbah record the addition of eagles. Furthermore, the

28 29

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Busi 1999, 254, n. 731; Iafrate 2015, 167, n. 17. “As he [Solomon] ascended the first step, a lion stretched out an arm to him; at the second an eagle stretched out an arm”, Freedman – Simon 1983 [1939], Vol. IX, 26–29; Midrash Esther Rabbah 1:12. „When he [pharaoh Necho] sought to sit upon the throne of Solomon he did not know its workings, so a lion struck him and maimed him”, Freedman – Simon 1983 [1939], Vol. IV, 250; Midrash Leviticus Rabbah, 20:1. On this notion, see: Iafrate 2015, 163–167. For the complete series of comparable manuscripts, see (last access 22 July 2019). Du Cange 1688, Vol. I, 840–841. The term is usually employed to indicate various kinds of machinery as well as war equipment. It is notable, however, that in its secondary meaning it can refer to something wondrous or magic. Such nuance clearly reflects the deep impression made by technology on people.

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text refers to the throne animals’ ability to move and endows them with a protective role. The description, however, is ambiguous and does not clarify whether the animals are real or moving statues. Other rabbinic texts, such as the Midrash Leviticus Rabbah, mention hidden mechanisms and secret technology, and may thus be implying that the lion striking the usurper is neither a chained beast nor a mere statue, but a simulacrum endowed with a mechanical device that animates it. These discrepancies testify to a wave of alterations to the Jewish tradition of the throne of Solomon even before the sixth century. However, given the difficulty posed by the precise dating and genesis of these texts, several doubts remain about their reciprocal relationship.34 A trace of these early Jewish descriptions – practically a translation– also appears much later in Muslim sources, particularly in the expanded chronicles of al-Ṭabarī compiled by al-Balʿamī (d. 974? 997? C.E.), who consciously inserted a description of the throne very similar to the one handed down by the Midrash Esther Rabbah (i.e. one with no explicit reference to hidden mechanisms)35 – a sign not only of the on-going dialogue between the two cultures, but also of growing interest in the kingship of Solomon and his representation in the Islamic world.36 My idea is that the notion of a wondrous throne endowed with specific powers (the nature of which is still ambiguous in the Midrash Esther Rabbah) can be successively clarified by resorting to a rationale that mirrors the scientific and technological achievements known at the time. An interest in the actual employment of automata in courtly contexts – both in the Sasanian37 and Byzantine38 Empire – is, in fact, attested on the written level, and it is not impossible that the rabbinic texts were influenced by technological masterpieces developed and well known to contemporaries. In other words, the direct observation of certain settings may have prompted some rabbis to grant the movement of the animals a scientific explanation. As noted, although no actual

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This passage is very short, and we cannot be sure that the Midrash Leviticus Rabbah is drawing this information from the textual tradition of the Midrash Esther Rabbah. The room devoted to the throne in the description is minimal: the text, in fact, comments on the book of Leviticus, therefore its interest in the Esther-related material is marginal. The excerpt does not dwell on the whole description of the throne, but refers only to the fact that one of the lions (we do not know whether the compiler knew of the eagles mentioned in the other midrash) maimed Pharao Necho, who had tried to sit on it after the death of Solomon. This element does not appear in the Midrash Esther Rabbah, nor is Pharao Necho mentioned in the list of sovereigns who struggled for possession of the Solomonic seat in the context. “The throne of Solomon had four legs. It was ruby red and the material had been worked in such a way as to represent four lions. Above Solomon’s head there were four vultures, to which they had made long wings so that they could shade the king while he was giving an audience. When he was not on his throne, the wings of the birds could be folded. The four lions also formed a talisman. Nobody but Solomon could sit on the throne. When Nebuchadnezzar came to Jerusalem and he wanted to sit on the throne, he did not know Solomon’s habit. Then, when he set his foot on the throne, the lions extended their claws on his legs and they crushed him, so that he fell from the throne, losing consciousness. He was treated, cured, and put back on his feet. After him, nobody else tried to sit on the throne”. For consistency, this excerpt is given in English; however, the translation is based on Zotenberg’s French edition (al-Ṭabarī, Vol. I, 448). As Soucek 1993 has demonstrated, the description of the Solomonic throne in the Islamic world was in circulation as early as the seventh/eighth century, and, in fact, was reported by various commentators and chroniclers, such as Wahb Ibn Munabbih (d. 725–737?) and al-Ṭabarī (839–923), who, in turn, quoted the accounts of previous authors, like Ibn Isḥaq (d. 769), Muhammad b. Kaʿb al-Quraẓī (d. 736), and Ibn ʿAbbās (ca. 618–688). In these accounts, however, no specific mention is made to automata, while the throne’s most notable feature is that it can fly. The use of technology is recorded also in the case of the majestic and almost legendary throne hall of the Sasanian monarch Khosrow II (r. 590–628 C.E.), known as Takht-i Ṭāqdīs, ‘Throne of Consecration’. This one was probably conceived as a canopied, revolving throne that imitated the movement of the sky and combined the functions of a royal seat and an enormous time-keeping device. Although no archaeological evidence of this structure survives, thanks to projects that have come down to us through manuscript illustrations, we know of other and later examples of such monumental water clocks, devised as arch-like structures resting on pillars. They could indicate both the hours of the day and the astronomical times of year, thanks to a series of time-keeping devices set in motion by running water. The structure could also host musical automata, coming out of doors like pieces of a giant carillon. On this, see: Herzfeld 1920; Saxl 1923; Christensen 1936, 466; Ackermann 1937; Lehmann 1945; Alföldi 1950; Polak 1982, 164–167; Flood 2001, 114–118; Caiozzo 2010, 251–252, 257–258. For an overall synthesis, see: Iafrate 2015, 184–194. For a notable gift exchange involving automata between the Byzantine and the Sasanian emperor, see: Inostrancev 1926, 47.

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automata have survived, certain texts offer us some sense of what contemporary viewers may have actually seen. Nonnos’s Dionysiaca (III, 177–178), an epic poem probably composed in the early 5th century C.E., contains a description of the visit that Cadmus paid to the palace of Emathion in Samothrace. On either side of the gates as he entered stood figures of dogs in gold and silver – “silent works of art, snarling with gaping throats [as they] wagged the friendly shape of an artificial tail”.39 Although the description occurred within a mythological setting, the two guardian dogs were almost certainly not fictitious. In 507, in a letter addressed to the scientist and philosopher Boethius (475/7–526?), King Theodoric (475–526), who had grown up in Constantinople, listed various wonders made possible by current technology. He also asked his interlocutor to build a clock for the king of the Burgundians: “[Science] makes organs swell with alien notes and supplies their pipes with air from outside, so that they resound with great subtlety […] Objects of metal give out sounds: a bronze statue of Diomedes blows a deep note on the trumpet; a bronze snake hisses; model birds chatter, and those that had no natural voice are found to sing sweetly.”40 Similarly, ʿUmāra ibn Ḥamza, sent as a legate to Constantinople on a diplomatic mission on behalf of Abbasid Caliph al-Manṣūr (712–775), probably in 775 C.E., described how dancing swords, green and red clouds that hid the emperor, and mechanical lions were all part of a ritual designed for the audience, which appeared duly surprised and frightened.41 It therefore seems that the description of the original Solomonic throne, as handed down in the Bible, was partly altered within the Jewish tradition in response to the use of mechanical wonders in courtly contexts.42 We can therefore detect an interference caused by the impression made by reality on the memory provided by a text that transformed the static sculptures of the Bible into potentially dangerous robots. Echoes from the Magnaura A further and quite interesting instance in the development of the Solomonic throne occurs in the tenth century, in Constantinople. Byzantine chronicles report that a ‘new throne’ was set up in the so-called Magnaura, one of the throne-halls of the Byzantine palace in Constantinople, probably under the rule of Emperor Leo VI, known as ‘the Sage’ (r. 886–912).43 According to two distinct and unrelated sources – De cerimoniis aule byzantine, a sort of ceremonial handbook for the court, and the Antapodosis by Liudprand of Cremona (920–972), which contains the account of an embassy to Constantinople – both of which describe this throne in use under Leo’s successor, Constantine Porphyrogennetos (r. 913–959), the imperial audience was staged at given moments and included special sound effects and nearly theatrical movements.44 The imperial seat could

39 40 41 42

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Nonnos, 113. Cassiodorus, 20–23. Dunlop 1971, 217–218. This conclusion was partially advanced, as early as 1962, by Ville-Patlagean. In comparison, my thesis is more nuanced. While the scholar treated all the texts handed down in the Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Cod. hebr. 222, fols. 50r–56v as a whole and thus proposed the Magnaura as a terminus post quem, I have tried to consider each midrash in its specificity by showing that some rabbinic texts kept trace of the employment of automata in the Solomonic court room even before the creation of the Magnaura setting, and by trying to demonstrate that this corpus is not fixed, but continuously updated. Dagron 1984, 303–309; Maliaras 1991, 157, 162–164; Tougher 1997, 110–132. On the contrivances of the Magnaura throne and their political and technical implications, see also: Treitinger 1956 [1938] 134–135; Hammerstein 1986; Trilling 1997; Canavas 2003; Berger 2006; Walker 2012. “Whilst the logothete puts the customary questions to him, the lions begin to roar and the birds on the throne and likewise those in the trees begin to sing harmoniously, and the animals on the throne stand upright on their bases. Whilst this is taking place in this way, the foreigner’s gift is brought in by the protonotary of the post and again,

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be raised mechanically (probably evoking a sort of apotheosis) and was flanked by roaring lions that swung their tails and flicked their tongues in an attempt to impress and catch ambassadors unaware. The throne faced a golden tree with singing metal birds, while other animals emitted sound from its steps.45 Interesting to note, similar groups of objects (mechanical lions, tree, birds) had already been at the centre of imperial interest even before the Magnaura setting, as attested, for instance, during the reign of Theophilus (r. 829–842).46 The monarch had commissioned a set of similar pieces in gold from his master goldsmith but kept them in a special display cabinet and not around his throne. A similar tree with birds is known to have been at the court of Abbasid Caliph al-Muqtadir in Baghdad in 917.47 Now, the setting created at the Byzantine court marks an interesting moment in the story of the Solomonic throne. If the presence of mechanical lions was known and somehow commonplace in Constantinople,48 then it was only with Leo VI – as far as we know – that the lions became Solomonic. This is not surprising, considering the explicit propaganda promoted by a monarch who stressed the symbolic association between his kingship and that of King Solomon in so many ways that he was nicknamed ‘the Sage’. It was under his rule that the Magnaura throne was erected and his seat flanked by the lions of the Scriptures. Leo VI applied a biblical coating to available technology, while the rabbis inflated their commentaries with the aura exuded by new mechanical wonders. It is fascinating to see how the lions of the Solomonic throne came to be associated with mechanical devices both in the Jewish and Christian tradition at different times and through independent, somewhat opposite routes. The story, however, contains another marvelous twist. Strikingly close to the recorded historical event at Magnaura is a description appearing in two texts of the later corpus of rabbinic literature (Targum Sheni,49 Midrash Abba Gurion50). As is customary in this literature, these texts

45

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47 48 49

50

after a little while, the organs stop, and the lions subside, and the birds stop singing and the beasts sit down in their places”, Moffatt – Tall 2012, 568–569. See also: Featherstone 2007. “Before the emperor’s seat stood a tree made of bronze gilded over, whose branches were filled with birds, also made of gilded bronze, which uttered different cries, each according to its varying species. The throne itself was artfully wrought, so that at one moment it seemed a low structure, and at another it rose high into the air. It was of immense size and was guarded by lions, made either of bronze or wood covered over with gold, who beat the ground with their tails and gave a dreadful roar with open mouth and quivering tongues […] At my approach the lions began to roar and the birds to cry out, each according to its kind; but I was neither terrified nor surprised, for I had previously made enquiry about all these things from people who were well-acquainted with them”, Mango 1986, 209–210. The sources regarding this early set of automata are listed by Brett 1954; for a discussion on the relationship between this set and the Magnaura, see: Iafrate 2015, 66–72. Le Strange 1897; Lassner 1970. If what ʿUmāra ibn Hamza relates is accurate, such use of the creatures could date as early as the 8th century. “Now wherever Solomon wished to go, the throne with its foundation moved beneath him […] Thereafter a great serpent would wind itself around the machinery: then the lions and eagles would ascend the machinery and thus provide shade for King Solomon’s head [..] When the high priest came to inquire of Solomon’s welfare, and all the elders sat to the right of the throne and to its left judging the cases of his people, and the witnesses who were to testify would ascend before the king, the wheel of the machinery was set in motion – the oxen lowed, the lions roared, the bears growled, the lambs bleated, the panthers screamed, the owls hooted, the cats mewed, the peacocks shrieked, the roosters crowed, the hawks screamed, and the birds chirped to frighten the hearts of the witnesses so that they not offer false testimony; so the witnesses said to themselves: We must offer honest testimony or else the world will be destroyed on account of us. The lions would sprinkle spices whenever King Solomon would ascend to sit on the king’s throne, and such a throne none of the kings possessed”; Grossfeld 1991, 102; Targum Sheni 1:2. “Kinds of trees and species of palm-trees were fixed on both sides of each step, and upon their branches there nestled all kinds of eagles, peacocks and birds. On the highest step were two huge pillars of ivory on the heads of the lions and two golden hollow vines fragrant with every kind of perfume, which they exhaled whenever Solomon ascended the throne […] The eagles, nestling on the vines after wafting breezes of perfumes with their wings, placed the crown upon his head and, this done, all the beasts and birds with one accord exclaimed ‘Long may the kingdom of the House of David be established’”, Gaster 1899, 253.

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incorporate previous descriptions of moving eagles and lions handed down by earlier midrashim. However, they also register the insertion of new, striking elements, such as various other animals located on the steps of the throne,51 which could be seen as alluding to those mentioned in Isaiah (11:6).52 But though some of the beasts listed in these midrashim are also found in the Bible, others, like the peacocks, seem to betray a distinctly Christian imperial flavour.53 All this suggests that even if a biblical reminiscence serves as the textual substratum, it is paired with a direct and distinct echo of an imperial setting. Moreover, the scene described is extensively animated and nearly a staged performance of royalty enhanced by dramatic elements; the animals move and emit sounds in a truly cacophonic ensemble, while the throne itself is set in motion by a peculiar piece of machinery in order – as the text says – to scare those who bear false testimony in front of Solomon. Indeed, the scene is described not only as an imposing royal audience, but also as a judicial trial situated in a hall with golden trees and purple cloths, immersed in a cloud of incense and perfumes, and unfolding amid the acclamations of an audience praising Solomon. Something must have changed between the time of the scant line mentioning the hidden (and silent) mechanisms in the Midrash Leviticus Rabbah and this complex, detailed, theatrical description, staged according to the paradigm of an imperial audience and handed down by these later rabbinic accounts. In fact, texts like the Midrash Abba Gurion or the Targum Sheni seem directly receptive to the impression made by the refashioning of the Magnaura courtroom with the Solomonic throne and its new function as a hall of justice.54 If this proposed relative chronology is correct, then this later wave of rabbinic texts must have been, if not compiled, then at least updated well into the tenth century and expanded with descriptions of the novelties that were physically placed around the Byzantine throne, such as the golden tree, the singing birds and the ceremonial features typical of the Byzantine court (such as the use of purple). Once again, reality seems to have exerted an impact on a textual tradition, to the point of radically enriching it. However, it is particularly hard to reach safe conclusions with these types of texts. Rabbinic literature, by definition, is very difficult to date. The periodization of the Targum Sheni, for instance, extends from the 4th to the 11th century. In this sense, my suggestion should be considered another tentative hypothesis.55

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Different midrashim hand down slightly varying lists of animals, so that it is not possible to establish a fixed series. It is interesting to note that although the most frequently recurring iconographic scheme is that of Solomon on a throne with lions, a 14th-century Mahzor, prayer book for special festivities (Budapest, Library of the Hungarian Academy of Sciences, the Kaufmann Collection, Ms A384, fol. 183v), depicts the king along with a series of different animals that clearly echo those mentioned in these rabbinic sources, rather than the biblical lions; see Iafrate 2015, 6, fig. 1; for a full discussion of the miniature, see Shalev-Eyni 2006. “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb: and the leopard shall lie down with the kid: the calf and the lion, and the sheep shall abide together, and a little child shall lead them. The calf and the bear shall feed: their young ones shall rest together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox”. On this specific point, see: Ego 1994; Ego 2001. Peacocks are frequently represented in Byzantine art. They penetrated Christian iconography via the Graeco-Roman rather than biblical heritage; Anđelković et al. 2011. In general, peacocks belong to the vocabulary of kingship mentioned at the beginning of this paper and are often associated with the Tree of Life or celestial gardens. Thus, their inclusion in the list of animals adorning the Solomonic throne implies a Late Antique rather than a biblical background for this passage. As a comparison, see also another passage on the imperial audience recorded in De Cerimoniis “Note that after the foreign legates have gone out, the Praipositos says loudly ‘If you please!’ and the magistroi and patricians and senators go out, praying the ‘For many years!’ […] and the members of the Chrysotriklinos and of the kouboukleion go out praying ‘For many years!’” Moffatt – Tall 2012, 569–570; “Note that, as usual for processions [the passageways] are trimmed with laurel in the form of little crosses and wreaths which are called ‘parasols’, to the right and left on the walls beneath railings which are called ‘little rivers’ and those standing vertically which are called ‘trees’. They were also trimmed with the rest of the flowers which the season provided then. Their pavements were liberally strewn with ivy and laurel, and the more special ones with myrtle and rosemary. Note that after the entry of the groups into the great Hall of the Magnaura, the entire hall was sprinkled with rose-water”, Moffatt – Tall 2012, 573–574. For a recent discussion on the subject, see: Rabello 1987/1988, 455–470; Lerner 2006.

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Less than a century after the creation of the Magnaura, Islamic sources register a similar update: the throne of Solomon as described by the quranic scholar al-Thaʿlabi (d. 1035 C.E.) in his Lives of the Prophets is far more similar to the ones appearing in the late midrashic accounts, which we have just discussed, than to the one recorded by the Persian chronicler al-Balʿamī mentioned earlier in this article.56 If al-Balʿamī’s description was modelled on a text similar to the Midrash Esther Rabbah, then al-Thaʿlabi’s is an update on the tradition that is quite similar to that of Midrash Abba Gurion, as several textual parallels seem to demonstrate.57 Echoes of the Magnaura and of some of its most notable elements continue to resurface later in other contexts, both literary and physical: they reach India via the Mughal legacy (as can be seen in the creation of the famous throne of Shah Jahan),58 and Ottoman Constantinople, where court poetry still attests to a recollection of a throne with automata.59 Finally, certain motifs, such as the golden tree with singing birds, were to enjoy a broad and independent circulation, often resurfacing in Western medieval literature without even being directly connected to any representation of a throne.60

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“It is related that the Prophet of God, Solomon, had ordered the devils to make this for him to sit upon when he gave judgment; he ordered them to make it something dreadful, so that if a trifler or a perjurer saw it he would be struck dumb with astonishment. The story goes that they made for him a throne of ivory and studded it with sapphire, pearl, chrysolite and various kinds of gems, and encompassed it with four golden palm trees, with date clusters of red rubies and green emeralds. At the top of two of the palms were two gold peacocks, while at the top of the other two were two golden vultures – all facing each other. At the side of the throne they placed two golden lions, on the head of which was a column of green emerald. To the palms they had bound grapevines of red gold, with clusters of red rubies, so that the throne would be shaded by the trellis of the vines and the palms. When Solomon wished to ascend to the throne, he stood upon the lowest step and the throne, with his foot on it, revolved like a hand-mill turning rapidly. Then those vultures and peacocks spread their wings and the two lions thrust out their paws and struck the ground with their tails. The same took place with every step that Solomon ascended. When he sat down on the upper part of the throne, the two vultures on the palms took musk and ambergris and sprinkled them over it. Then a golden pigeon, standing on a column of precious stone, one of the columns of the throne, took the Book of the Torah and opened it for Solomon and he read it to the people, and called them to the rendering of judgment. It is said that the great men of the Israelites sat upon his right hand, upon a thousand chairs of gold and silver studded with jewels. The chief of the jinn came and sat upon a thousand chairs of silver at his left, all of them honouring him. The birds shaded them and the people approached him for his judgment. When he called for evidence and the witnesses came forward, the throne, with everything on it and around it, revolved like a rapidly moving hand-mill. Mu‘awiyah said to Wahb b. Munabbih: ‘What made the throne turn?’ He replied: ‘Two golden nightingales. And the throne was among the things fashioned by Sakhr the Jinni’. They say that when this happened, the two lions extended their forepaws and beat the ground with their tails and the vultures and the peacocks spread their wings and the witnesses were seized with terror and bore witness only to the truth. When Solomon died, Nebuchadnezzar sent and had the throne taken and carried to Antioch. He wished to ascend it, but he did not know how, nor did he know its properties. When he placed his feet on the lowest step, the lion raised its right forepaw and struck Nebuchadnezzar’s leg a mighty blow, which broke the leg and threw Nebuchadnezzar down. Nebuchadnezzar was carried away; he walked limping and moaning from this injury until he died. The throne remained at Antioch until a certain king called Kadash b. Sadas raided them, put the successor of Nebuchadnezzar to rout, and returned the throne to Solomon’s temple. Not one of the kings, however, was able to sit upon it or to enjoy the use of it. Finally, it was placed beneath the Rock and disappeared and nothing further is known of its story or its whereabouts. But God is All-knowing”, al-Thaʿlabī 2002, 512–513. Note, for instance, that despite the fact that the creation of the Solomonic throne was ascribed to a jinn, a figure typical of Muslim culture, the reference to the Torah book, quite distinctive of the Jewish tradition, is maintained and represents a clear trace of the cultural origin of the text. Begley 1979; Koch 1988; Parodi 2001. Bagči 1995, 102–104. The theme is a very rich one and here I will only mention Sherwood 1947; Camille 1989, 242–258; Michael 1997; Polak 1982; Dubost 1991; Ernst 2003; Lightsey 2007; Kang 2011; Pomel 2015; Truitt 2015. For more extensive bibliographical references, see Iafrate 2015, 3–4, 268–278.

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Conclusion As has been shown, the sources on which this synthetic survey is based vary in scope, chronology, language, and the religious affiliation of their authors. What is notable, however, is that regardless of their lack of formal affinity, they are all equally interested in transmitting the wondrous details of the throne of Solomon. In spite or precisely because of their diversity of origin, these texts represent a meaningful body of evidence of the remarkable and on-going dialogue on the theme of kingship, from a perspective that can certainly be defined as interreligious and intercultural. However, when seen in the broader historiographical perspective of the theme of circulation and permeability, the story of the throne of Solomon not only confirms and strengthens the idea of a common language of luxury and shared iconographical paradigms, but also problematizes it. Its circulation is not, in fact, the fruit of a neutral interest, but rather of a need to fashion the throne of Solomon in the most convincing, complete, and striking way. Indeed, most of the texts analysed here clearly indicate a process of conscious and direct appropriation of material on the throne: Muslim writers faithfully copied Jewish midrashim, which, in turn, were updated with the novelties introduced in the Christian courtroom. One is left doubting the Byzantine emperors’ ignorance of earlier Jewish traditions that described a throne with moving animals.61 Despite the fact that the Bible provides a highly detailed description of the Solomonic throne, the canonical tradition appears to have already started mutating in Late Antiquity and enriching the object with innovations. Oral and textual traditions were not repeated in a fixed and unalterable way and did not simply follow a trajectory from text to text; on the contrary, they responded quite dynamically to reality, changing over time thanks to the insertion or modification of certain elements. This was because power and the way in which it was staged deeply mattered. While the language of kingship was predictable overall, one can still perceive distinct traces of a specificity of propagation. Indeed, it is fascinating to see how the longue durée of a single motif went hand in hand with its punctual and continuous update. Acknowledgements: I would like to express my deepest gratitude to Raʿanan Boustan, Tim Demetris, Heba Mostafa, Elena Paulino Montero, and Cesare Santus for their precious suggestions.

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Roby 2016 C. Roby, Technical Ekphrasis in Greek and Roman Science and Literature. The Written Machine between Alexandria and Rome (Cambridge, New York 2016). Salzberger 1912 G. Salzberger, Salomos Tempelbau und Thron in der semitischen Sagenliteratur (Berlin 1912). Saxl 1923 F. Saxl, Frühes Christentum und spätes Heidentum in ihren künstlerischen Ausdrucksformen, Wiener Jahrbuch für Kunstgeschichte 16, 1923, 63–121. Shalem 2006 A. Shalem, Manipulations of seeing and visual strategies in the audience halls of the early Islamic period. Preliminary notes, in: F. A. Bauer (ed.), Visualisierungen von Herrschaft (Istanbul 2006) 213–232. Shalev-Eyni 2006 S. Shalev-Eyni, Solomon, his demons and jongleurs. The meeting of Islamic, Judaic and Christian culture, Al-Masāq 18, 2, 2006, 145–160. Sherwood 1947 M. Sherwood, Magic and mechanics in medieval fiction, Studies in Philology 44, 1947, 567–592. Sivertsev 2013 A. Sivertsev, The Emperor’s many bodies. The demise of Emperor Lupinus revisited, in: R. Boustan – M. Himmelfarb – P. Schäfer (eds.), Hekhalot Literature in Context, between Byzantium and Babylonia (Tübingen 2013) 65–84. Soucek 1993 P. P Soucek, Solomon’s throne / Solomon’s bath. Model or metaphor?, Ars Orientalis 23, 1993, 109–134. Ṭabarī Chronique de Abou-Djafar-Mo‘hammed-Ben-Djarir-Ben-Yezid Tabari. Traduite sur la version persane d’Abou Ali Mo‘hammed Bel‘ami, d‘après les manuscrits de Paris, de Gotha, de Londres et de Canterbury par M. H. Zotenberg (Paris 1867–1874). al-Thaʿlabī Abū Isḥāq Aḥmad ibn Muḥammad al-Thaʿlabī, ʿArāʿis al-Majālis fī Qiṣaṣ al-Anbiyāʾ / Lives of the Prophets. Translated and annotated by W. M. Brinner, Supplements to the Journal of Arabic Literature 24 (Leiden 2002). Tougher 1997 S. Tougher, The Reign of Leo VI (886–912). Politics and People (Leiden, New York, Köln 1997). Treitinger 1956 [1938] O. Treitinger, Die oströmische Kaiser- und Reichsidee nach ihrer Gestaltung im Höfischen Zeremoniell (Darmstadt 1956 [1938]). Trilling 1997 J. Trilling, Daedalus and the nightingale. Art and technology in the myth of the Byzantine court, in: H. Maguire (ed.), Byzantine Court Culture from 829 to 1204 (Washington 1997) 217–230. Truitt 2015 E. R. Truitt, Medieval Robots. Mechanism, Magic, Nature and Art (Philadelphia 2015). Verheyden 2012 J. Verheyde (ed.), The Figure of Solomon in Jewish, Christian and Islamic Tradition. King, Sage and Architect, Themes in Biblical Narrative 16 (Leiden 2012). Ville-Patlagean 1962 E. Ville-Patlagean, Une image de Salomon en Basileus Byzantin, Revue des Études Juives 121, 1–2, 1962, 9–33. Walker 2012 A. Walker, The Emperor and the World. Exotic Elements and the Imaging of Middle Byzantine Imperial Power, Ninth to Thirteenth Centuries C.E. (Cambridge, New York 2012).

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Index A Aaron   127 Abu Ishaq   181–182 Acanthus   153, 158 Achaemenids   129 Aegean   13, 14, 37, 38, 40, 45, 48, 61, 62, 64, 66–69, 72, 73, 77–78, 99, 137 Africa   37, 68, 89, 154 Agency   85, 94 Ahiram or Aḥirom   97, 99, 125, 129 Akkad   21, 24–30, 32, 63, 125, 126, 129, 130 Akkadian   27–28, 30, 32, 125, 129, 130 Language   63, 125–126 Period   27, 32 Akrotiri   46 Altar   38, 40, 41, 45–49, 164, 167 An   22, 64 Anatolia [see also: Turkey]   62, 93, 137, 138, 140, 142, 144, 146–147, 151, 159, 162, 166 Ancient Egypt   see under: Egypt Anemospilia   45 Ancient Near East (thrones in the)   11, 24, 43, 45, 85, 89, 91, 93, 105, 157, 158 Angel   181 Anige   174 Animation [see also: throne, animated]   15, 85, 192, 198, 201 Anointment   131 Anthropomorphic   17, 25, 41 Arab   15, 130, 177 Arabic   130, 193, 197 Aramaic   63, 123, 124, 130 Archanes Tourkogeitonia   49, 50 Amarsuen or Amar-Suen of Ur   21, 23, 29 Amos   93, 98, 127, 128, 129 Ammonite   126 Apollo   115, 116, 135 Ares   107, 113, 114, 115, 116 Architecture   15, 17, 21, 37, 41, 51, 99 Armenia   130, 151, 160, 161 Armrest   29, 62, 87, 88, 93, 105, 106, 109, 114, 116, 139, 141, 161, 164, 196 Armrest (curvate)   29, 87 Artemis   113, 116 Artisan   166 Artist   110, 118, 174, 182 Aššurbanipal or Ashurbanipal   99, 129 Assyrian   74, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93, 97, 99, 106, 110, 129, 139, 141, 143, 144, 145, 147 Athena   74, 76, 106–110, 113–116 Attic ware   14, 105, 106, 108, 109, 114, 116, 118 Audience scene [see also: presentation scene]   124, 131 Automata [see also: animation]   15, 191, 192, 194 B Baetyl [see also: standing stone; stela]   41, 43, 44, 45, 47 Back or backrest   see under: throne, back

Bactria   151, 153, 159, 164, 165, 166 Badr al-Din Luʾluʾ   178, 180, 182 Banquet   24, 32, 67, 98, 99, 126, 136, 141, 142, 143, 144, 151, 152, 165, 166, 167, 178, 184 Banquet scene   24, 129, 144, 180 Bára(g) [see also: curtain; parak]   22 Bar-Rakib   123, 124, 126, 127 Basin   44, 159, 166, 191, 195 Bed   23, 67, 71, 87, 93, 95, 96, 98, 142, 175, 153, 159, 163 Begram Hoard   164 Bible   93, 97, 123, 125, 127, 129, 130, 191, 192, 196, 199, 201, 203 Bird   15, 29, 67, 80, 110, 197, 198, 199, 200, 201 Duck   114 Eagle   178, 181, 182, 197 Owl   110, 178, 181, 182 Swan   107, 109, 110, 114, 116, 118 Vulture   197, 198 Black-figure vases   14, 105, 106 Block   47, 116 Boğazköy [see also: Hattusha]   138 Box   47, 69, 73, 93 Pyxis   46, 47, 48, 49, 112, 153 Bowl   96, 126, 131 Bronze (material)   89, 94, 98, 139, 140, 141, 144, 145, 146, 159, 160, 161, 180, 194, 195, 199, 200 Bronze Age   13, 14, 21, 37, 38, 44, 62, 67, 68, 72, 73, 76, 77, 78, 85, 89, 92, 94, 95, 97, 99, 142 Bughtaq   175, 177, 178, 180, 181, 182 Bull   24, 27, 140, 193 Burial [see also: tomb; tumulus]   68, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 93, 94–99, 135, 136, 144, 146 Byzantine   191, 193, 195, 197–201, 203 C Cabinet-making   145, 200 Calf   67, 80 Canopy   181, 184 Carpentry [see also: cabinet-making]   145, 146, 147, 200 Cave   44, 48 Chabi   174, 175, 178, 180 Chair [see also: seat; throne]   23, 24 Definition of chair 15, 16 Etymology of chair 23, 24, 27, 29, 30, 31, 43, 63– 68, 73, 76, 78, 79, 80, 85–99, 105, 106, 109, 135, 139–144, 161, 173 Chariot   38–39, 85, 89, 139 China   13, 14, 173, 176, 177, 178, 184 Christianity   15, 191, 192, 196, 200, 201, 203 Clay [see also: pottery; terracotta]   37, 39, 40, 45, 46, 61, 65, 72, 143, 166 Cloth [see also: garment; textile]   17, 46, 77, 113, 130, 175 Coin   164, 165, 182 Coffin [see also: sarcophagus]   135, 141, 142

212

Index

Column [see also: pillar]   49, 74, 112, 175, 181, 202 Constantinople   192, 193, 195, 197, 199, 200, 202 Cosmic kingship   191–193 Couch   67, 93–94, 99, 105, 129, 152, 161, 163, 165– 166, 174 Court   42, 44, 93, 98, 130, 162, 165, 173, 174, 175, 177, 178, 180, 182, 184, 199, 200, 201, 202 Crete   13, 37–41, 43, 46, 61, 77 Crown [see also: diadem; headgear; tiara]   22, 29, 30, 38, 123, 128, 129, 130, 131, 184, 200 Horned crown   25, 28–29, 30–31 Cube-shaped (seat) [see also: dais]   114, 115 Cup   38, 107, 108, 109, 112, 124, 126, 127, 128, 129, 178, 180, 181, 184 Curtain [see also: bára(g); parak]   22, 177, 178, 181, 182 Cushion   86, 109, 177, 178, 182 Cyprus   14, 85, 86, 87, 88, 90, 91, 95, 96, 98 D Dais [see also: cube-shaped seat; platform]   22, 23, 177 Deification [see also: divine kingship]   21, 23, 27, 28, 30, 32, 98, 167 Delos   116, 160 Delphi   14, 77, 115, 135, 137–141, 147 Design   see under: throne, design of Diadem [see also: crown; headgear; tiara]   130, 131 Dionysos   107, 110, 112, 114, 118 Diplomatic marriage   181 Divine kingship [see also: deification]   21 Divine throne   see under: throne Donger village, Shaanxi   177 Dragon   177, 178, 181 Duck   see under: bird gišdúr-gar [see also: gišgu-za]   22 Dura Europos   196, 197 E Eagle   see under: bird Early Dynastic Period   21, 24, 25, 32 Early Minoan Period   37 Egypt [see also: ancient Egypt]   16, 90, 123, 128, 131, 143, 145, 193 Egyptianized style   95, 124 Elite   11, 16, 17, 21, 24, 37, 38, 40, 43, 45, 49, 50, 51, 63, 85, 89–94, 97, 98, 127 Empty throne   see under: throne Enlil   22, 28 F Feast   see under: banquet Figurine [see also: statuette]   38, 41, 88, 138 Final Palatial Period   37 Fleece [see also: stool, fleeced]   26 Floral pattern [see also: flower; vegetal pattern; volute; palmette]   95, 96 Flower   47, 97, 98, 126, 131 Lotus   97, 126 Folding stool   see under: stool [see also: X-frame chair] Footstool   23, 63, 65, 66, 67, 69, 70, 77–81, 93, 94, 95, 98, 99, 105, 106, 109, 113, 114, 116, 140, 177, 178, 181, 184

Fresco   38, 43–49, 68, 196, 197 G Garments   38, 45, 75, 129 Gender [see also: queen; women]   71, 85 Geometric pattern   70, 71, 88, 135, 137, 138, 142, 143, 145, 146, 147, 158, 164, 180 Ghazan   173, 177, 184 Glyptic art [see also: seals]   13, 25, 37, 38 Gold   14, 23, 39, 40, 43, 45, 46, 67, 78, 79, 80, 85, 88, 89, 90, 93, 94, 95, 98, 99, 139, 174, 175, 178, 180, 181, 196, 199, 200, 202 Gordion   14, 93, 98, 135, 136, 138, 141, 142, 143, 144, 146, 147 Great Mongol Shahnama   180, 183 Greece or Greek   13–16, 40, 61, 63, 64, 66, 68, 71, 73, 75–78, 105–109, 110, 115–116, 118, 135, 137– 138, 159, 163, 165–167, 197 Greek Archaic Period   see under: Archaic Greece Griffin   29, 40, 46, 48, 194, 195 Gudea of Lagaš   21–23, 27, 29, 30–31 gišgu-za [see also: gišdúr-gar]   22–23, 30 Gypsum   43, 67, 72, 78, 160 H Hadad   125, 129 Halaf, Tel   92, 93, 97 Hatti   63 Hattusha   see under: Boğazköy Hazael   123 Headgear or headdress [see also: crown; diadem; tiara]   14, 29, 32, 94, 95, 128, 129, 130, 131, 173, 175, 180, 181, 184 Hellenistic   106, 151, 159, 160, 165, 192 Hephaistos   106, 109, 114, 115 Hera   76, 107, 112, 113, 114, 115, 118 Hermes   107, 113, 115, 116, 118 Herodotus   135, 138, 139, 147 Hesiod   107 Hittite   45, 63,67, 99, 123, 129, 130, 131, 138 Homer   61, 62, 63, 64, 69, 73, 76 Horn   63, 94, 131 Horned crown   see under: crown Hunting   89, 175, 180 Hybrid   164 I Ibbi-Suen of Ur   23 Ilkhanid   173, 180, 182, 184 Inana   23, 28 India   89, 154, 202 Injuid   182 Inventory lists   61, 65, 67, 68, 69, 70, 78, 151, 154, 161, 164, 165 Investiture scene   124 Iran   13, 124, 173, 177, 178, 180, 181, 184 Iraq   25, 27, 139, 173, 177 Isin   22 Isin-Larsa Period   28 Išme-Dagan of Isin   22, 23 Islam   173 Ištar or Ishtar 25, 26, 28, 145

213

Index

Ivory   14, 15, 37, 38, 43, 46, 47, 48, 67, 79, 80, 85–99, 109, 124, 125, 135, 137, 138, 139, 141, 142, 143, 147, 151, 152–157, 159, 161, 163–167, 174, 196, 200, 202 Ivy   110, 118, 138, 153, 201 J Jajarmi, Muhammad ibn Badr al-Din   182 Jamiʿ al-tavarikh   177–182, 184 Jerusalem   11, 12, 92, 105, 124, 125, 198 Jewish   11, 12, 15, 128, 197, 198, 199, 200, 202, 203 John of Plano Carpini   174, 175 Jouktas   42, 45, 49 K Khatun [see also: women]   173, 174, 175, 178, 180, 181, 182 King   13, 14, 15, 21, 22, 24, 27–32, 38, 45, 63, 64, 65, 67, 77, 85, 93, 94, 97, 99, 107, 112, 114, 115, 116, 123–131, 135, 136, 138, 139, 141, 143, 145, 147, 165, 166, 167, 191, 192, 193, 196– 202 Kingship   13, 14, 15, 21, 22, 32, 38, 61, 63, 64, 77, 85, 97, 98, 118, 123, 124, 125, 126, 128, 129, 130, 165, 182, 191, 192, 193, 197, 198, 200, 201, 203 Knossos   37–45, 47–51, 64, 68, 71, 72, 73, 76, 77, 78 Kopet Dagh   151, 159 Kuntillet ‘Ajrud   97, 127 L Lagaš [see also: Gudea of Lagaš]   21, 22, 25, 29, 31 Landscape [see also: mountain]   13, 15, 37, 40, 42, 46, 47, 48, 50, 51, 90 Sacred landscape   40, 50 Late Geometric Period   70, 71 Late Minoan Period   37, 38, 40, 44, 47 Late Uruk Period   21, 24 Leg   95, 96, 110, 115, 142, 143, 144, 146, 153, 156, 158–164, 167, 195, 202 Animal leg or zoomorphic leg [see also: lion leg; zoomorphic]   96 Curved leg   44, 142–146, 164 Lion leg   see under: lion Leto   116 Levant or Levantine   11, 14, 41, 43, 90–98, 123, 124, 126–131, 159, 162 Limestone   113, 140 Linear A Script   37, 72, 73 Linear B Script   14, 37, 38, 61, 62, 69, 71, 72, 73, 78 Lion   30, 31, 49, 93, 135, 137–143, 146, 147, 158, 162, 163, 164, 165, 195, 197, 198, 201, 202 Lion throne   29, 30 Lion leg   15, 96, 142, 143, 146, 158, 162, 163, 164, 165, 195 Lipit-Eštar of Isin   22 Liu Guandao   175 Lotus [see also: flower]   95–97, 126 M Magic   192, 197 Magnaura   191, 195, 199, 200, 201, 202, 203

Maništusu of Akkad   27 Marco Polo   174 Mari   27, 129, 131, 195 Marzeah ritual [see also: banquet]   98 Matar   135, 145, 146 Medieval   11, 15, 191, 193, 194, 195, 202 Megiddo   97, 99, 124, 126, 142 Mesopotamia   13, 21, 23, 25, 27, 28, 29, 31, 94, 95, 123, 129, 131, 143, 144, 159 Midas   14, 15, 77, 135, 138, 139, 141, 147 Middle Bronze Age (Levant)   37, 126, 143 Middle Minoan Period   40, 41, 44, 49 Miniature [see also: model]   87 Minoan   13, 37, 38, 40, 41, 44, 45, 46, 48, 49, 50, 51, 64 Mithridakert   see: Nisa Mochlos   46, 47, 48, 49 Model   87, 90, 92 Mongol   14, 173–185 Monkey   46 Mountain   13, 26, 37–45, 47–51 Mountain throne [see also under: throne]   45, 51 Mountainous Landscape   13, 37, 42, 46, 47 Muʾnis al-ahrar   185 Music [see also: sound]   178, 180–181, 198 Mycenaean   14, 37, 40, 61–81 N Nanna   23 Neo Assyrian   91, 92, 126 Neopalatial Period   37, 40, 41, 46 Ningal   28, 29 Ningirsu   25, 29, 30, 31 Nimrud   86, 90, 91, 92, 96, 97, 143, 145 Ninsun   22 Nisa   151, 152, 153, 154, 157, 159–167 New Nisa   151, 166 Old Nisa   14, 151, 152, 153, 165, 166 O Old Akkadian Period   30 Old Babylonian Period   21, 23, 143 Öljeytü   177, 180 Olympos   106, 107, 109, 110, 113, 114 Ottoman   202 Outcrop [see also: rock]   39, 46 Owl   see under: bird P Painting (of throne)   38, 46, 47, 97, 109, 110, 136, 180, 181, 182, 184 Panamuwa   123, 125, 126 Palace   37, 42, 43, 44, 45, 48, 50, 51, 61, 62, 63, 65, 68, 74, 92, 93, 139, 142, 143, 147, 156, 175, 177, 180, 192, 199 Palm tree or Palmette   88, 95, 96, 116 Paper   13, 40, 61, 63, 65, 73, 77, 81, 85, 86, 90, 91, 95, 98, 99, 123, 129, 131, 135, 159, 173, 191, 193, 201 parak [see also: bára(g); curtain]   22, 23 Parthians   151, 163 Peak Sanctuary   41, 42, 44, 47, 49, 50 Pedestal   137, 177, 180

214

Index

Persia   129, 191 Persian   15, 123, 130, 131, 175, 180, 182, 184, 193, 202 Persephone   112, 116, 118 Pillar   74 Pisa   194, 195 Phoenician   63, 90, 92, 93, 96, 123 Phrygian   14, 135, 138, 141, 144, 145, 146, 147 Platform [see also: dais]   39, 40, 45–50, 181, 196 Pomegranate   180 Portrait   175, 177, 178, 180 Potnia   38, 64 Pottery [see also: clay; terracotta]   41, 44, 70, 71, 86 Presentation scene [see also: audience scene] 24 Priest (throne of)   37, 38, 129, 131, 138, 200 Priestess (throne of)   28, 29, 31, 45, 129 Prince (throne of)   22, 38, 146, 180, 181 Princess (throne of)   25, 93 Protopalatial Period   37, 41, 44 Pylos   38, 40, 61, 65–70, 72, 78 Pyxis   see under: box Q Qubilai   173, 174, 175, 178, 180 Queen [see also: gender; women]   23, 24, 25, 28, 38, 67, 112, 114, 173 Qutuqtu   175 R Rabbinical   192, 193 Radiance   14, 94 Reception hall [see also: audience scene; throne room]   92 Rehov, Tel   87, 88, 90, 92, 99, 127 Regalia   21, 22, 30, 123, 129, 131 Ritual   11, 13, 14, 16, 17, 23, 37, 38, 40, 41, 42, 47, 48, 50, 63, 65, 68, 85, 86, 87, 91, 93, 95, 98, 99, 129, 130, 163, 167, 199 Rhyton   41, 44, 47, 48, 152 Rock   44, 66, 112, 116, 145, 202 Roman   87, 105, 128, 158, 159, 167, 191, 201 Room [see also: throne hall or throne room]   28, 37, 44, 46, 47, 48, 49, 63, 65, 152, 156, 165, 198, 199 Royal ideology   21 Ruler [see also: king]   14, 23, 24, 31, 37, 38, 44, 50, 61, 63, 68, 73, 76, 77, 78, 91, 126, 128, 177, 178, 180, 182, 184, 191, 197 Russia   173 S Salamis   14, 85, 86, 87, 91, 93, 96, 97, 98, 99 Samaria   90, 92, 124 Sam’āl [see also: Zincirli]   123, 126, 127 Šar-kali-šarri of Akkad   see under: Sharkalisharri Šara   see under: Shara Sarcophagus [see also: coffin]   97, 99, 125 Sassanian or Sasanian   161, 164, 191, 198 Satyr   110, 112, 118 Scale   26, 32, 38, 66, 70, 72, 73, 139 Scale pattern   26, 88, 95, 96 Scepter or sceptre [see also: staff]   22, 47, 63, 64, 71, 73, 77, 112, 114, 124–129 Scotia   158, 159, 164

Seal [see also: glyptic art]   26–31, 37, 38, 39, 40, 45, 48 Sealing   38, 39, 40, 45, 47, 48 Seat   see under: chair; stool; throne Seating position   15, 105, 174, 175, 178 Silver   74, 89, 94, 151, 159, 163, 174, 178, 181, 199, 202 Siren   79, 80 Shangdu   175, 177 Shara [see also: Šara] 29 Sharkalisharri [see also: Šar-kali-šarri of Akkad] 21, 28 Shiraz   181, 182 Shulgi   21–23, 27 Shusuen   27, 29 Solomon (king)   15, 181, 191, 192, 195, 196, 197, 198, 200, 201, 202 Solomon (throne of)   93, 192, 195, 196, 197, 198, 201, 202, 203 Sphinx   88, 95, 96, 97, 98 Staff [see also: scepter]   14, 38, 39, 63, 64, 123, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 131 Stand   23, 24, 42, 73, 96, 107, 110, 113, 143. 144, 145, 146, 167, 178, 181, 199 Standing stone   see under: baetyl Statuette [see also: figurine]   38, 41, 88, 137–138 Stela or stele [see also: baetyl; standing stone]   25–27, 29, 31, 32, 76, 98, 126, 127, 129 Steppe   173, 184 Stone [see also: rock]   13, 24, 26, 29, 37, 39, 41, 44, 45, 46, 48, 49, 66, 67, 70, 116, 138, 161, 202 Stool [see also: chair; seat; throne]   24, 26–32, 40, 44, 67, 71, 73, 95, 96, 106, 107, 108, 116, 118, 141, 143, 146, 163, 178 Fleeced stool [see also: fleece]   29, 31 Folding stool [see also: X-frame chair]   14, 40, 107–108, 116, 118, 177–178 Sofa   see under: couch Sound [see also: music]   192, 193, 199, 200 Šu-Suen of Ur   see under: Shusuen Šulgi of Ur   see under: Shulgi Sultan Husayn   184 Sumerian   21, 22, 32, 63, 129, 145 Syria   92, 139, 143 Swan   see under: bird T Table   49, 65, 67, 70, 77, 95, 96, 98, 141, 142, 143, 145, 146, 174, 177, 178, 180 Tablet   27, 61, 62, 65–69, 74 Tabriz   179, 180, 183 Takht-i Ṭāqdīs   198 Tang-e Sarvak   124 Tapestry   175, 176 Tenon and mortise   137, 140, 141, 142, 143, 156, 161, 162, 164 Temple   22, 23, 26, 28, 31, 45, 94, 152, 161, 195, 202 Temple-façade or recessed temple-façade   26, 28 Terracotta [see also: clay; pottery]   37, 38, 41, 73 Textile [see also: cloth; garment]   75, 76, 145 Tiara [see also: crown; diadem; headgear]   130 Tibet   174–175 Tiglath-Pileser   123, 124 Timurid   184 Thakos   115

215

Index

Thera   46 Thórnos or thrónos   14, 16, 61–69, 71, 73, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 105, 109 Throne Animated throne   15, 201 Back or backrest of chair or throne   13, 24, 27, 29, 37, 43, 44, 45, 50, 66, 67, 68, 73, 77, 79, 80, 87, 88, 93, 94, 95, 96, 105, 106, 107, 109, 110, 114, 116, 118, 139, 140, 141, 161, 174, 178, 180, 181, 196 Definition of throne   11, 13–17, 21–32, 37, 39, 40, 43, 44, 45, 48, 49, 50, 51, 61, 62, 63, 66, 67, 68, 71, 72, 73, 74, 77, 78, 85, 86, 87, 92, 93, 94, 97, 99, 105–110, 112–118, 123, 124, 126, 128, 129, 131, 135, 137–141, 143, 144, 147, 153, 159, 161–165, 167, 174, 177–184, 190, 191, 192, 193, 195–203 Depiction of throne   15, 38, 98, 105, 108, 127, 139, 175, 181 In glyptic art [see also: glyptic, seals] 13, 25, 37, 38 In stone relief [see also: stela] 25, 27, 28, 41, 139, 166 Design of throne 12–17, 21, 25, 26, 27, 28, 32, 51, 88, 97, 105, 107, 138, 141, 142, 145, 146, 151, 158–164, 180, 181 Deified throne   see: animated throne; divine throne Divine throne 23, 26, 28–32, 63 Empty throne   45, 167 Etymology of throne 11 Mountain throne [see also under: mountain]   45, 51 Tripartite throne [see also: tripartite]   177, 183, 184 Usurpation of the throne [see also: usurpation]   16, 23, 196–197 Throne hall or throne room [see also: reception hall]   192, 195, 198 Tomb [see also: burial, tumulus]   14, 37, 44, 48, 49, 67, 68, 85–91, 93–99, 135, 141, 144, 175, 177, 178 Toq Temür   175 Tori   153, 158, 159, 161, 164 Treasury   115, 139, 151, 152, 153, 159, 166 Tree [see also: wood]   47, 88, 95, 96, 116, 155, 175, 180, 200, 201, 202 Tripartite [see also under: throne]   41, 46,–47, 177, 183, 184 Tripod   65, 68 Tumulus   93, 98, 99, 135, 138, 141–147 Turkey [see also: Anatolia]   92, 135, 138, 144

Turkish   178, 180 Turkmenistan   14, 151, 167 Tutanapshum or Tuta-napšum   28 Tutankhamun   68    Tutasharlibbish or Tuta-šar-libbiš   28 U Underworld   112, 116, 118 Ur   21, 23, 24, 26, 27, 28, 29, 32 Ur III Period   23, 24, 26, 27, 29, 30, 31 Urartian   140, 141, 143, 144, 147 Urnamma of Ur   26, 27 Urnanshe of Lagash or Urnaše   25 Uruk [see also: Late Uruk Period]   22, 24, 28, 159 Usurpation [see also under: throne]   16, 23, 196–197 V Vegetal pattern   see under: floral pattern Vizier   22, 177, 178, 180 Vulture   see under: bird Volute   113, 114, 115 Votive   41, 44, 45, 135, 139, 143 W Warrior   25, 40 Weapon   85, 139 William of Rubruck   174 Wing   15, 44, 46, 96, 106, 110, 140, 164, 181, 198, 201–202 Wreath   110, 162, 163 Women [see also: queen; gender]   14, 28, 45, 74, 173, 174, 175, 177, 179, 181, 183, 184 Wood [see also: tree]   15, 63, 66, 67, 68, 79, 80, 87, 88, 89, 92, 93, 94, 95, 138, 139, 141, 142, 180, 200 X X-frame chair [see also under: stool; folding]   14, 40, 107–108, 116, 118, 177–178 Y Yüan   14, 173, 174, 175, 177, 178, 184 Z Zakkur   123 Zangid   178 Zeus   76, 107, 108, 110, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 118, 165 Zimrilim   129 Zincirli [see also: Sam’āl]   92, 98, 123, 126, 127, 138 Zoomorphic [see also: leg, animal]   15, 41, 152