About 6,000 years ago, the practice of agriculture transformed societies in various parts of the world. Agriculture required extensive social organization and produced surpluses which had to be protected. The result was what we loosely recognize as civilization, stratified societies with unequal distributions of wealth and power. Some wealthy societies developed ruling elites and armies of conquest. Such societies have always used art to affirm the legitimacy and glory of the state. Let’s glance at three examples.

Below, we see the figure of the Dying Gaul, a representative of the native peoples to the north and west of Italy who resisted Roman rule for generations before being subdued by Julius Caesar. Representations of defeated enemies in other ancient cultures often demean the vanquished by depicting them in small scale and in positions of servitude. This sculpture depicts a noble, dignified warrior who has fallen in battle. The image flatters the Empire by humanizing and respecting the enemy it has conquered.

Dying Gaul. (ca. 230-220 BCE). Sculpture.	Jaques-Louis David.  (1802). Napoleon Crossing the Saint Bernhard Pass. Oil on canvas.	Leutze, Emanuel. (1851). Washington Crossing the Delaware. Painting.

Over 17 Centuries later, a Corsican gunnery officer in the French Army sought to rebuild the glories of Ancient Rome by conquering Italy, Spain, Portugal, and Russia. Napoleon Buonaparte, the scourge of other European nations, fired in the French breast an immense sense of gloire (glory) that has not fully died out even today. Jaques-Louis David invests his vision of Napoleon astride a horse with gloire, the French term for glory which is deeply associated with the Emperor’s cult.

Note: later, we’ll look at Goya’s much less flattering portrait of Napoleon from the perspective of his ambition’s victims.

The revolution in France that led to Napoleon was inspired by the insurrection of 13 British colonies in North America. Emmanuel Leutze’s painting of a heroic moment in the American Revolution celebrates one of the iconic moments of a national history imbued with the legend and virtues of democracy. Didactic Art has through the ages celebrated the state and enhanced popular support.

Shamash and Hammurabi

In the ancient world, power always claimed the blessing of divine favor. Kings, often seen as divine, served as priests, mediating between the people and the gods. Often, gods were thought to live in temples attended by royal high priests. If a city or nation succumbed to famine, plague, or an enemy’s armies, clearly the king/priest had lost the favor of the gods who were believed to have literally abandoned the building.

Hammurabi reined in the 1st dynasty of Babylon. Hammurabi’s era was much older than the neo-Babylonian empire that conquered the Israelite kingdom of Judah in 605 BCE (relevant Hebrew scriptures: Jeremiah, Ezekiel, Lamentations, and more).

Hammurabi’s glory is commemorated in a basalt stele  (or stela), a monument that affirms the king’s authority by portraying him in supplication before Shamash, a  Babylonian god (see the detail). Steles were often set up by powerful rulers to affirm their authority, to delineate a realm’s boundaries of a realm, or to commemorate military triumph. But this one has a remarkable feature.

Royal Head [Hammurabi?]. (2nd millennium BCE).	The Code of Hammurabi. (ca. 1792-1950 BCE). Engraved black basalt.	Detail: Hammurabi before Shamash

The Didactic Art of ancient Egypt opulently affirmed a society, its leaders, and its claims to divine patronage. The Narmer Palette below commemorates the military and political unification of Upper and Lower Egypt under one rule (3,000 BCE).

Narmer Palette (Obverse face). (ca. 3000 BCE). Slate relief.	Narmer Palette (Reverse). (ca. 3000 BCE). Slate relief.

The faces of the palette are divided into “registers,” or zones which affirm Narmer’s authority  through his close relationship with the gods. At the top, we see the invocation of a deity, the cow goddess Hathor.  In the middle register (obverse face), we see King Narmer smiting an enemy under the gaze of the falcon god Horus.

Your sharp eye will notice the difference in size between the king and other figures in the image. In many ancient traditions, difference in scale conventionally indicates social status. The image of the Pharaoh Menkaure is dominated by the goddess Hathor, seated and a bit larger than the Pharaoh. Hathor’s Attributes of the cow and the heavens are represented by her headdress: a solar disk between horns. Smaller still is Hare, a deified personification of a region of Egypt.

Menkaure, Hathor, and Hare. (26th Century BCE). Sculpture.	King Mendaure & Queen. (25th Century BCE). Sculpture.	Hunting Scene. (ca. 1415 B.C.). Tomb of Menna (no. 69). Painting.

What do you think of the depiction of Menkaure with his wife? Does it seem familiar?  These royal figures strike a pose strictly conventional in Egyptian sculpture: erect stance, feet flat with one advanced, the king’s arms straight with fists clenched. The faces are impassive and impersonal, capturing no emotion or individuality. Remarkably, this style remained largely unchanged through scores of royal dynasties over 2,500 years. This level of stylistic continuity clashes with contemporary artistic values. Great art, we think today, throws over the stale patterns of the past and boldly explores personal visions. What sort of artists do the same thing for 2,500 years?

The answer is simple. These artists worked from a very different cultural perspective. The Didactic function of art in ancient Egypt was to affirm the myth of an enduring people. Egyptian wealth and power were based on the predictability of the Nile River’s gift of fertility to a strip of land in a hostile desert. Every year, the Nile flooded and receded. Every generation of Pharaoh continued the authority of those before. Egyptian art reflected a conservative, consistent, stable culture. Originality was not a value.

The Hunting Scene captures the prosperity conferred by the Nile through multiple levels of society. The Nile teems with fowl and fish, signifying the fecundity of its river valley. The nobleman hunts with his wife, servants, and slaves, each figured sized according to social status. The figures are depicted in a distinctive, timeless, two-dimensional style. As is true of nearly all ancient Egyptian painting, the figures are presented in profile, but some combine two perspectives: feet and heads in profile, torsos turned toward the viewer.

Egyptian art, then, attempts to stave off the destructive effects of time: generations may come and go, but our civilization endures. Ancient Egyptian art was mostly funerary, focused on the transition from life on earth to the underworld. Not only did the “art” of mummification seek to preserve the body, but carved and wrought figures and vehicles in an Egyptian tomb provided the deceased with food, conveniences, and servants into eternity.

Colossi of Memnon. (1372 B.C.). Sculpture.	Colossi of Ramses II. (ca. 1270 B.C.). Temple. Abu Sunbul. Sculpture.

From ancient kings to corporations in our age, the powerful erect massive, Monumental  buildings and art works to intimidate and assert power. Ancient Egyptian architecture and statuary—the pyramids, the Sphinx, the temple compound at Luxor—were erected to project power and affirm the blessing of the gods in opposition to every rival … now and in the future.  Colossal statues of pharaohs like Ramses II sought to intimidate generations yet unborn.

Shelley and Ozymandias

Of course, no one beats time. Pharaohs died. The empire was repeatedly defeated, finally by Greeks and Romans. Over the centuries, even the monuments eroded, crumbled, and collapsed.

Curran, Amelia. (1819). Portrait of Percy B. Shelley. Oil on canvas.

In 1818, the English poet Percy Byssche Shelley was intrigued by press drawings of archeological discoveries in Egypt. Eroding monuments, such as the Colossi of Memnon, invoked the irony of human aspiration.[1]

[1] As quoted in Mikics, Shelly’s poem channels the irony of an ancient Roman historian named Diodorus who quoted an inscription on an Egyptian monument: “King of Kings Ozymandias am I. If any want to know how great I am and where I lie, let him outdo me in my work.”

Elizabethan England

Shakespeare, W. (17th Century). Frontispiece, First Folio.

All societies celebrate the heroes that embody the ideals they imagine at the core of their national characters. Between 1590 and 1610, William Shakespeare wrote and directed plays in the flourishing theater scenes in London and the provinces. Now, Shakespeare’s dramas were composed under especially constraining circumstances. Playwrights of Shakespeare’s day had to be sponsored—i.e. officially authorized—by English aristocracy: lords, ladies, and Queen Elizabeth, who eagerly sponsored the arts. Clearly, their plays were required to teach the lesson of fidelity to their patrons’ authority.

Furthermore, Queen Elizabeth was vulnerable to bad publicity. Her Tudor grandfather, Henry VII, was thought by many to have usurped (stolen) the crown. Her father, Henry VIII, had broken with Rome and was condemned throughout Catholic Europe. Elizabeth’s navy had to fight off the massive Spanish Armada, sent to invade and re-impose Roman Catholic authority. Oh, and Elizabeth was a queen, a woman trying to maintain authority in  a patriarchal world of kings and noblemen. Tudor England needed support from all of its poets.

Astonishingly, Henry’s small army routed the French, in large part because of non-aristocratic long bowmen who had the audacity to slay hundreds highborn French knights from afar. To this day, the British revere Agincourt as one of England’s greatest victories. Shakespeare’s speech has rung through the ages and continues to inspire soldiers and athletes even today. Every time you see the phrase “band of brothers,” Shakespeare’s words live on.

The play has twice been notably filmed. Lawrence Olivier directed and starred in a 1943 production to rally English spirits during World War II. In 1989, Kenneth Branagh also directed and played the lead role in a revival (Video of the “Band of Brothers” scene , technicalmark, 2009).

References

Abu Simbel. Temple of Ramses II. (c 1270 BCE). Facade: Four Colossi of Ramses II [Sculpture]. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/ARTSTOR_103_41822003586557

Colossi of Memnon: Front reign of Amenhotep III, Western Thebes [Sculpture]. (1372 B.C.). ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/ARTSTOR_103_41822000132900

Curran, A. (n.d.). Portrait of Percy B. Shelley [Painting]. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/ARTSTOR_103_41822001651528

David, J.-L. (1801-1802). Napoleon crossing the Saint Bernhard Pass. [Painting]. Chateau de Versailles, Versailles, France. ARTstorhttps://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/LESSING_ART_1039490372

Dying Gaul [Sculpture]. (ca. 230-220 BCE). Musei Capitolini, Rome, Italy. Artstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/LESSING_ART_1039490325

King Menkaure (Mycerinus) and queen [Sculpture]. (2490-2472 B.C.). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, MA, United States. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/AMBOSTONIG_10313608722

Leutze, E. (1851). Washington crossing the Delaware. [Painting]. Metropolitan Museum of Art. New York, NY, United States. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/MMA_IAP_1039651608

Narmer Palette (Obverse face) [Slate relief]. (ca. 3000 BCE). The Archive for Research on Archetypal Symbolism, New York, NY, United States. ARTstor
https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/AWSS35953_35953_31674620

Narmer Palette (Reverse) [Slate relief]. (ca. 3000 BCE). The Archive for Research on Archetypal Symbolism, New York, NY, United States. ARTstor
https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/AWSS35953_35953_31674622

Royal head, called the head of Hammurabi [Sculpture]. (Beginning of the 2nd millennium BCE). Musee du Louvre, Paris, France. ARTstor
https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/LESSING_ART_10311440732

Shakespeare, W. (n.d.). The life of King Henry the fifth. Project Gutenberg. https://ezproxy.bethel.edu/login?url=https://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk&AN=1011000&site=ehost-live&scope=site

Shelley, P. (January 11, 1818) “Ozymandias.” London: The Examiner. Retrieved from Poetry Foundation, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/articles/69503/percy-bysshe-shelley-ozymandias#poem.

technicalmark. (2009, May 3). Henry V – Speech – Eve of Saint Crispin’s Day – HD [Video]. YouTube. https://youtu.be/A-yZNMWFqvM

The Code of Hammurabi. (ca. 1792-1750 BCE). [Sculpture]. Musee du Louvre, Paris, France. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/LESSING_ART_1039490426

Triad of King Menkaure (Mycerinus), the goddess Hathor, and the deified Hare nome [Sculpture]. (2532-2510 B.C.). Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, MA, United States. Artstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/AMICO_BOSTON_103829342

Versteeg, J. R. (2008). Ancient Middle Eastern law. In P. Cane & J. Conaghan (Eds.), The new Oxford companion to law. Oxford University Press.
https://www-oxfordreference-com.ezproxy.bethel.edu/view/10.1093/acref/9780199290543.001.0001/acref-9780199290543-e-69

Wall [Hunting scene] [Painting]. (ca. 1415 B.C.). The Archive for Research on Archetypal Symbolism, New York, NY, United States. ARTstor https://library-artstor-org.ezproxy.bethel.edu/#/asset/AWSS35953_35953_31676036