Fragment of a Head
|Dimensions||H: 14.2 cm; W: 14 cm|
Light beige color (Munsell 2.5 yr 8/3), very fine, with a porous consistency and small, reflective inclusions; surface covered by a slip of diluted light yellowish clay.
Part of the front is preserved, along with the right side of the face and the attachment of the neck. A layer of soil incrustation is present over the white slip.
– 1982 Antike Kunst Palladion (Basel, Switzerland), sold to the J. Paul Getty Museum, 1982.
This fragment, probably once part of a statue, has an oval face and full regular features. The elongated eyes have very thick eyelids with sharp edges. The pupil, iris, and tear duct are emphasized, and the eyebrows are well defined; there is a distinct juncture between the forehead and the lowered arch of the eyebrows. The nose is straight, and it directly joins the eyebrow arches; the mouth has fleshy, parted lips, a sinuous profile, and small dimples at the sides. The gaze is slightly lowered. The surface of the face has been carefully smoothed.
The definition of the facial features finds parallels in Tarentine terracotta heads dating from the middle of the fifth century BC, such as in the elongated eyes and eyelids already present in the Severe style, and elements that can be found even in mature Classicism, such as the fleshy cheeks enlivened by dimples at the corners of the mouth and nostrils, the broad flat chin, and the flat arch of the eyebrows.1 The head may show the influence of a sculptural prototype, perhaps in bronze, as is suggested by the accuracy of the features, which are close to the Attic style of the second half of the fifth century BC. A comparison could be made with the marble head of Athena in Taranto, dated to this period, which shares the same tendency to emphasize the eyelids, the puffed-out cheeks, and those features that confer greater organic qualities and lively expression to the faces.2 The details of the sensuous, fleshy lips and the lower part of the face clearly point to the Cirò Apollo, datable to 440–430 BC, suggesting the same Attic stylistic culture.3 The head of Theseus from the pediment of the Temple of Apollo Sosianus in Rome, which has been dated to around the third quarter of the fifth century BC, would also seem comparable, especially in the puffy flesh, the fleshy cheeks, and the thick eyelids.4 It is difficult to place the Getty head chronologically. Stylistic analysis and comparisons cited above suggest dating it to about 440–430 BC.
For the characteristics of Tarentine coroplastic art of the fifth century BC, see Herdejürgen 1971, pp. 14–25, and Orlandini 1983, pp. 463–64. Among the possible comparisons in terracotta, see a fragmentary head possibly from Taranto dated to 440–420 BC in Schürmann 1989, no. 133, pl. 2, and the head in Fischer-Hansen 1992, no. 53. From other contexts, see also the terracotta head from Reggio di Calabria in R. Ross Holloway, Influences and Styles in the Late Archaic and Early Classical Greek Sculpture of Sicily and Magna Graecia, Publications d’histoire de l’art et d’archéologie de l’Université catholique de Louvain 6 (Leuven, 1975), pl. 58, fig. 1, and the heads cited in Quarles van Ufford 1941, p. 108, figs. 56–57. See, further, the statuette of Artemis, dating to the second half of the fifth century BC, at the Allard Pierson Museum in Amsterdam, discussed by L. Kahil, s.v. “Artemis,” LIMC 1 (1984), pp. 618–753, esp. no. 572. In addition, the head from a cistern on Temple Hill at Agrigento shows similar eyelids; see G. Pugliese Carratelli and G. Fiorentini, Agrigento: Museo archeologico (Palermo, 1992), pp. 86–87, fig. 89. ↩
For the marble head of Athena in Taranto, see Catoni and Settis 2008, p. 319, no.19, and Belli Pasqua 1995, pp. 31–38. See also the marble female head in Copenhagen, a Tarentine work of 460–450 BC comparable to the Getty head in a number of its facial features (for example, the certain heaviness in the lower portion of the face), discussed in Fischer-Hansen 1992, no. 7, p. 37. ↩
For the acrolithic marble head from the Temple of Apollo Aleo at Cirò, see Settis and Parra 2005, pp. 259–62; and Madeleine Mertens-Horn, “Resti di due grandi statue di Apollo ritrovati nel santuario di Apollo Aleo di Cirò,” in Santuari della Magna Grecia in Calabria 1996, pp. 261–65. ↩
See La Rocca 1985, esp. pp. 61–62, pl. XIII. ↩
Group of Heads and Busts from the Taranto Region (cats. 4–23)
This discussion is reproduced on each of the individual object pages.
The group of twenty heads and busts (cats. 4–23) that were acquired by the Getty Museum in 1982 share a number of technical characteristics, despite the fact that they can be assigned to differing typologies, and very probably came from the same Tarentine workshop. Chronologically they span a period from the second half of the fifth century BC to the third and second centuries BC and seem to be linked by a shared history.
In the documentation about this acquisition, the group of terracottas was said to be connected to the extensive collection of Jacob Hirsch, a renowned early twentieth-century numismatist and art dealer; his collection also included a substantial array of material from Medma and Taranto. At or shortly before Hirsch’s death in 1955, a portion of this collection, which included more than 800 terracottas, became the property of his colleague Thomas Virzì, an antiquarian of Palermitan origin who over the years played a crucial role in the illegal sale and exportation of major artworks from Magna Graecia. Virzì was also a key figure in the story of the “enthroned goddess” from Taranto, now in the Altes Museum, Berlin, and he was an executor of Hirsch’s will, along with R. Schlesinger and J. Caskell. In 1957 an auction was held in Lucerne, and a selection of Hirsch’s original collection was offered for sale. Initially, in 1961, Virzì attempted to sell a portion of the 800 terracottas to the Antikenmuseum Basel; but it was not until the end of the 1970s that the Swiss museum actually purchased a block of artifacts from the former Virzì collection. This material had previously been exhibited, along with other privately owned terracottas, in 1978. The twenty examples published here show close parallels with the material from Basel.1
The Saturo Hypothesis
In documentation held by the Getty Museum, this group is said to come “from Satyrion,” (modern Saturo), which stood on a promontory to the southeast of Taranto. This area was occupied as early as the Bronze Age, and it was one of the key locations in the region’s colonization, as well as a major place of worship.2
The Acropolis of Satyrion was a sacred site dating back to the Archaic period, with evidence of a polyadic cult and worship attributable to Athena, as attested by a dedicatory inscription. Behind the acropolis, in a valley with a freshwater spring, there was a second vast cultic area, showing signs of occupation dating back to the seventh century BC, as we know from the rich votive offerings that have been found there. This site of worship was probably redefined in the Hellenistic period with the construction of a sacellum (unroofed sacred building), inside which stood a sacred statue and a thesauros (storehouse or treasury). A second thesauros, containing coins and jewelry, was unearthed outside of the sacellum. A vast necropolis, used from the Archaic through the Hellenistic periods, covered part of the sacred area. Excavations were begun on the acropolis in 1959 and continued in the 1960s and 1970s, extending to the sanctuary area near the spring, with an intensification of digging between 1973 and 1977. The archaeological campaigns covered a broad territory, but the complex stratigraphy of the sites was not definitively established. Archaeologists did, however, unearth a substantial body of material, amounting to several hundred thousand artifacts, some of high quality, which still await a thorough critical publication. Inadequate maintenance and protection of the excavation over the years has resulted in serious tampering with the sites and circulation of a great deal of material originally found in the sanctuary.3 According to a recent study, the finds from deposits of votive offerings seem to date from no later than the third century BC, when the sanctuary suffered serious damage during the Hannibalic War. There is evidence of subsequent occupation of the area, with materials belonging to Roman farms that can be dated between the first century BC and the first century AD. Opinions differ as to the deities worshiped in the area: candidates range from the nymph Satyria to Aphrodite Basilis associated with Gaia or Persephone, in accordance with a complementary relationship of divine functions that linked military domination of the territory with the general realm of fertility, as evoked by the presence of the spring, and the chthonic world.4
Archaeological finds sold on the antiquities market are frequently assigned generic findspots from the best-known archaeological sites, such as Canosa, Taranto, or Locri (ancient Lokris). Also for this reason, Saturo deserved special attention as a very probable place of discovery. In fact, a brief and entirely preliminary examination of just a small portion of the large array of material from Saturo, especially the material linked to several favissae (burial places for sacred objects), allowed me to establish the presence of heads belonging to statues that had dimensions and typologies comparable to the Getty group, as well as specifications of fabrication and a type of fabric that were substantially similar, based on autoptic analysis.5
In addition to the Basel material mentioned above, the Getty heads can also be compared to the Tarentine heads in the collection of the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen, which in all likelihood originated at least in part from the rich votive deposit of the Fondo Giovinazzi in Taranto. The latter must have been the site of a major sanctuary linked to an adjoining necropolis, abounding in coroplastic material of a variety of types, but most commonly that of the banqueter.6 Other links can be seen to the Tarentine terracottas now in the Musei Civici di Trieste.7
Recently, wide-ranging research has been undertaken on objects originating in various Tarentine votive contexts, which unfortunately are often chance discoveries or finds lacking any reliable documentation. Research in progress is based on scientifically cataloguing, on archival information review, and on examination of the objects’ associations and contexts, with a view to reinterpreting the individual typologies in terms peculiarities and functions specific to each topographic context.8 A similar study of the votive deposits of Saturo and its coroplastic material, with special attention to the statues and heads, might yield important new findings regarding the prototypes to which they might be linked through variants and molds of various generations.
The Getty group of terracottas comprises both busts and heads. The heads can be assigned to statues and busts of medium and large format probably deriving from one or several favissae, given that the votive offerings appear to have been deliberately broken off at the neck or torso; this ritual breakage was intended to prevent reuse of previously consecrated material. The terracottas display a considerable typological diversity and vary widely in age. There are female busts, generally datable to the second half of the fourth century BC, with a prevalently chthonic character (cats. 9 and 10); heads and busts of banqueters, characterized by wreaths and bands (cat. 7), and in one case depicting a figure in the act of singing (cat. 8), or with a nude bust (cat. 21); and heads of male children and youths, some with strongly individualized features, comparable with the coroplastic types of central Italy of the middle Republican period (cats. 19, 20, 23).
The other heads, which can tentatively be dated to the fourth and third centuries BC, can be traced to types that are also well established in various Tarentine votive contexts, reflecting the influence of sculptural prototypes by Lysippos and Praxiteles developed with the distinctive eclecticism that seems to be a main trait of the Tarentine coroplasts of the Early Hellenistic period. During this period, especially between the fourth century and the first half of the third century BC, Taras enjoyed remarkable prosperity and participated in the extensive cultural interactions among Greeks, Etruscans, Italic ethnic groups, and those further afield, thanks to its situation along trade routes that stretched from Greece, Egypt, and the East to Italy and Sicily. Located at this crossroads, Tarentine artists both received and transmitted stylistic models and types to and from other regions.9
Thus, in a number of works, such as the head at cat. 21, we find distinctive features derived from the portraits of Alexander the Great, which were especially popular also in the workshops of neighboring Heraclea and other Italic and Campanian centers.10 In other heads (cats. 14 and 18), we can identify echoes of Praxitelean style, especially in the mournfully tilted heads and in the soft, modulated chiaroscuro that seems to characterize a large portion of Tarentine production in the fourth century BC. From the end of the fifth century to the fourth century BC, moreover, we find other distinctly Tarentine types: alongside the types that appear sorrowful, with rapt expressions (for instance, cat. 21), with thin faces, lowered gaze, and thickened eyelids, there are others (for example, cat. 15 and the head of Orpheus, cat. 1) that have full faces, marked features reminiscent of the Severe style, and small mouths with fleshy lips that can be found in the sculpture of the same period, influenced by Attic art of the post-Phidian period.11 The original contributions of Tarentine masters can be seen in the countless adaptations, revisions, variations, and reprises of the figurative vocabulary emanating from the Hellenic world and merging with vital local elements, which led to a continuous renewal of the Tarentine figurative culture. This rich and inventive vein can also be seen in soft-stone statuary and in marble funerary heads datable to the late fourth and third century centuries BC.12 In particular, a number of our heads reveal a marked characterization of the facial features; though they cannot be classified as full-fledged portraits, they seem to reflect individualized features within the context of a somewhat rigidly codified iconographic repertory and representational models.
In fact, we cannot rule out the possibility that the artisans may have used as prototypes portraits derived from Early Hellenistic imagery, adding to those models individual features or distinctive attributes appropriate to the pertinent religious context.13 The influence of Tarentine coroplastic models, which developed in the context of the koine of early Hellenism, would ultimately influence not only southern Italian centers such as Lucera or Heraclea, but, in some cases, more distant regions such as Etruria, middle Italic centers, and even Rome, which, as it absorbed this tradition, enriched it with various components of Italic Hellenism. The discovery of terracotta statues and heads in a votive deposit in Ariccia, for instance, suggests that southern Italy may have played a role as intermediary in the transformation of tastes and formal choices of artists and craftsmen in central Italy, in part following Roman conquests in Magna Graecia.14
The presence of various types of votive offerings in Saturo and the relations among them, as is generally the case in the Tarentine religious contexts, is an area of study that awaits thorough examination based on a systematic analysis of individual sites. Such typological and iconographic diversity can only be understood in relation to the nature of deities worshiped in Saturo and their manifold and complementary roles, some of which were mentioned above: military protection of the territory, assurance of fertility, safeguarding of children from illness, and chthonic and funerary rites.
The Female Busts
In the case of the busts (cats. 9 and 10), the similarity to Sicilian prototypes is reasonably straightforward. The typology, however, was modified and elaborated by Tarentine coroplasts with the introduction of new hairstyles (such as hair gathered in a roll behind the neck, derived from the Severe style) and a distinctive stylistic vocabulary. This is particularly notable in the emphatic rendering of the eyes and mouths and in the precise, compact forms, coupled with the linear treatment of the hair (probably achieved by means of special comblike tools that helped to speed a vast serial production), which suggests a link between the Getty busts and the Tarentine workshops; in particular, cats. 9 and 10 seem to indicate a transitional phase from the shorthand depiction of deities (often depicted with polos, the high crown worn by goddesses) to the actual portrayal of the offerers, shown with progressively individuated facial features. In statuary, this phenomenon would become increasingly marked as Roman influence grew.15
The head of a child (cat. 23), characterized by a cheerful expression and a sentimental pose conveyed by the slight tilt of the head, displays an iconographic affinity with comparable heads from the central Italic area as well was with the specific typology of crouching children that became common in the Near East and Greece beginning in the fourth century BC. Crouching children, often depicted holding an object or a small animal, can be found in Magna Graecia and Saturo, but also throughout the Etruscan and Italic world between the third and second centuries BC. It may be that a number of types already present in the central Italic context were re-elaborated by the coroplasts of Magna Graecia in response to specific cult practices and patronage. As regards Saturo, there may be links with kourotrophic cults as well as with the presence of the spring or with rites of passage from infancy to adulthood.16
The heads at cats. 7, 8, 20, and 21 are certainly linked to reclining figures or banqueters. Many unanswered questions remain regarding the banqueters in Saturo, including chronology, context, cult significance, and iconography; their numerous and diffuse presence, however, is attested in votive deposits of the Tarentine funerary zone at least up to the end of the fourth century BC, when other types common throughout the Hellenistic Mediterranean were introduced in Taras. The type of the banqueter, which could be interpreted in a variety of ways, is more significant if it can be related to the specific context and associated material, which is unfortunately unknown for this group.
The reclining figure has often been assimilated with the figure of Hades or compared to the Tarentine hero Phalanthos, but also to the heroized deceased affiliated with the funerary cult of Zeus Katabaites. Enzo Lippolis has discussed the hypothesis that the image of the banqueter represents the transition of the deceased to the new otherworldly life, a moment that is codified through participation in a ritual symposion and the offering of an image of the heroized deceased. He notes that examination of the coroplastic material of the Tarentine votive deposits makes it is clear that the banqueter is almost invariably associated with diversified typologies, ranging from female figures belonging to the sphere of Demeter, to reliefs featuring the Dioscuri (Castor and Pollux), to the types of Polyboia (Polyboea) and Hyakinthos, to the statuettes of Artemis Bendis. For this, he refers to the study of individual contexts to attempt to clarify the specific aspect of the image.17
Of special interest in this connection is the discovery in a chamber tomb at Centuripe (a center that in the Hellenistic period had cultural and economic relations with the Apulian area) of a terracotta relief depicting a banqueting scene, a male figure with a horse, and an athlete, dating from the third century BC, in which there appear to be strong iconographic and typological links with Tarentine artisanal production. In these relief slabs, we also see motifs and elements that can be interpreted as the heroization of the deceased, clearly defined in terms of the social and political role that he played within the Centuripe community.18 This tendency in funerary practices to emphasize the decedent’s status has yet to be defined with certainty in the Tarentine context. Though it seems that no banqueter has been found in the contents of a tomb, it can be proposed that the image of the reclining figure may be connected to specific ritual functions within the necropolis and that it was intended to codify the new status of the deceased with reference to a specific otherworldly collocation.19
The fronts of pieces were produced with a mold; so, probably, were the backs, though the latter are only rounded off and not detailed. The hair might in some cases have been attached, as suggested by cat. 19, in which the separation of the locks is quite evident; attributes such as crowns and diadems could have been applied later as well.20 The hole in the back of the head was intended for ventilation during the firing process.
The pieces feature, primarily, fabrics of two hues: a pinkish orange and a light beige. Both fabrics are porous, with a reasonably soft consistency and micaceous inclusions, with thickness ranging up to 2 centimeters. The pieces show evidence of uneven firing, resulting in shades that varied according to their distance from the heat source and to the presence or absence in the clay of grease-cutting substances that were used to ensure greater porosity and reduce the risk of deformation during the drying process. A grayish, poorly baked core characterizes some of the pieces. Before firing, the pieces were retouched with a pointed or toothed tool; and the hair, headgear, hats, and other accessories were added or shaped, a procedure that made it possible to diversify standard types.21 Nearly all the heads feature marked asymmetries in the faces. In sculpture, faces with asymmetries were usually intended to be seen in three-quarter view, from below, making it possible to recompose visually the entire facial structure in a more organic manner. The presence of these asymmetries in mass-produced terracottas, unconnected to the final placement, remains to be explained. We cannot exclude the possibility that the objects were derived from sculptural prototypes with these lifelike characteristics.22
Once they were fired, the pieces were painted so as to emphasize their most distinctive features and, in some cases, to cover up defects and inaccuracies in workmanship; the pigment was applied over a layer of white, which generally consisted of calcite or kaolinite, smoothed over the clay surface for better adhesion of the pigment. Occasionally, a piece would be coated with a layer of diluted clay before the white pigment was laid on. The limited palette was part of the well-established artisanal tradition. From the traces of pigment that have survived, it has been deduced that the hair on the male heads was painted red, as were the lips, while pink was used for the complexion. The use of strong colors was intended to enliven the figures’ expressions. The quality of the molds was quite good, and the details were well defined. In a number of the heads, two holes are visible at the sides of the head, probably corresponding to the points where the hair was attached, or at the base of the neck, where decorations could be inserted. The fact that the backs of the heads were not properly finished would indicate that the pieces were to be viewed only from the front.
The history of the Hirsch-Virzì collection, with specific reference to material from Medma, now in the collection of the Basel Antikenmuseum, has been reconstructed in Paoletti 1981, pp. 69–71, with bibliography, and in a review, also by M. Paoletti, of Herdejürgen 1978 in Prospettiva 23 (1980), pp. 90–95. For the catalogue of the auction held in Lucerne, see A. Hess, Bedeutende Kunstwerke (Lucerne, 1957). For the Basel material, see Herdejürgen 1971; and H. Herdejürgen, “Tarentinische Terrakotten der Sammlinug Schwitter,” AntK 16 (1973), pp. 102–8. ↩
For the research carried out in Saturo between 1970s and 1980, see F. G. Lo Porto, “Satyrion (Taranto): Scavi e ricerche nel luogo del più antico insediamento laconico in Puglia,” NSc 18 (1964), pp. 177–279; Lo Porto, “L’attività archeologica in Puglia,” in AttiTaranto 11 text volume (1972), p. 500; Lo Porto, AttiTaranto 12 (1973), pp. 363–76; Lo Porto, AttiTaranto 13 (1974), pp. 413–22, esp. 420–21; Lo Porto, “Recenti scoperti archeologiche in Puglia,” AttiTaranto 16 (1977), pp. 725–45, esp. 728–33; AttiTaranto 17 (1978), pp. 495–504, esp. 499–500. Also, see M. Torelli, in AttiTaranto 16 (1977), p. 956; E. De Juliis, AttiTaranto 19 (1980), pp. 428–29. On the cults present in Saturo, see M. Osanna, “Sui culti arcaici di Sparta e Taranto: Afrodite Basilis,” PdP 45 (1990), pp. 81–94; E. Lippolis, “Le testimonianze del culto in Taranto greca,” Taras 2 (1982), pp. 81–135. For a summary of the research done in Saturo, see Settis and Parra 2005, pp. 439–40; Taranto 1995, pp. 80–87. For coroplastic material, see also Monetti 2004–5. The bibliography of material on Saturo has been enriched over the years by various contributions on specific research topics, in particular on Laconian vases from Saturo, on which see P. Pelagatti and C. M. Stibbe, “La ceramica laconica a Taranto e nella Puglia,” in AttiTaranto 41 (2002), pp. 365–403. On the topography and models of settlement, see M. A. Dell’Aglio, Leporano alle origini di un territorio, exh. cat. (Taranto, Castello di Leporano, 1993); A. Alessio and P. G. Guzzo, “Santuari e fattorie ad est di Taranto: Elementi archeologici per un modello di interpretazione,” ScAnt 3–4 (1989–90), pp. 363–96; Osanna 1992; and M. A. Dell’Aglio, Il parco archeologico di Saturo Porto Perone: Leporano, Taranto (Taranto, 1999). ↩
In this connection, see P. Pelagatti, “Sulla dispersione del patrimonio archeologico: Le ragioni di un secondo incontro e il caso Sicilia,” in Pelagatti and Guzzo 1997, pp. 9–28, esp. p. 24. ↩
On this topic, see Settis and Parra 2005, Lippolis 2001; Taranto 1995, pp. 84–85; and Osanna 1992. In general, on the presence in a sanctuary of religious rituals directed toward deities other from those to whom the sanctuary was dedicated, see B. Alroth, “Visiting Gods,” ScAnt 3–4 (1989–90), pp. 301–10; and B. Alroth, “Visiting Gods: Who and Why,” in Linders and Nordquist 1987, pp. 9–19. ↩
In the past, I was able to view a limited part of the extensive material from Saturo that lies in storage at the Soprintendenza Archeologica of Taranto. For the terracottas quoted as comparisons, I noted the pertinent favissa number and number of the crate in which it was stored. I would like to thank the former director of the Museo Nazionale Archeologico di Taranto, Dr. Antonietta Dell’Aglio, for allowing me to view this material, and the museum personnel for their courteous help. The association between the Hirsch-Virzì collection and the sanctuary at Saturo remains to be clarified. It may be that in the complicated paths of acquisition, diverse and conflicting information muddied the history of the pieces. ↩
For the Copenhagen material, see Fischer-Hansen 1992, pp. 75–97; on the Fondo Giovinazzi, see Taranto 1995, pp. 71–77. ↩
The collection of terracottas now in the Musei Civici di Trieste was formed through a series of acquisitions on the antiquities market in the late nineteenth century. The catalogue of the collection is newly published: Poli 2010a. See also N. Poli, “La collezione tarentina del Civico Museo di Storia e Arte di Trieste: Storia della formazione,” Taras 21, no. 2 (2001), pp. 79–94. A number of items appear in Winter 1903 (i.e., the pieces on p. 4, no. 8b; p. 31, no. 2; p. 42; and p. 52, no. 7), where drawings are reproduced. Several references to these materials, some of which probably came from the funerary deposits of Pizzone, can be found in Wuilleumier 1939, pp. 396–439; for this large deposit, see Poli 2010b. M. Borda published a number of statuettes in his Arte dedalica a Taranto (Pordenone, 1979), pp. 36–38, 46–55, and “La kourotrophos dedalica da Taranto del Museo Civico di Trieste,” Aparchai 1982, vol. 1, pp. 85–96. ↩
See Lippolis 2001. Also worth noting is the methodological introduction in Taranto 1995, pp. 41–49: most of the Tarentine votive deposits show a clear relationship with the necropoleis, even though the function of terracottas in funerary rituals and their iconographic interpretation within this context remain problematic. In this connection, see D. Graepler, “La necropoli e la cultura funeraria,” in AttiTaranto 41 (2002), pp. 193–218. ↩
An overarching picture of the cultural exchanges between Taras, the Apulian region, and cultural centers of the eastern Mediterranean—particularly Macedonia and Egypt—is laid out by J. P. Morel in “Taranto nel Mediterraneo in epoca ellenistica,” in AttiTaranto 41 (2002), pp. 529–74, and in the contribution by N. Bonacasa in that volume, pp. 593–60; see also E. Ghisellini, “Una statua femminile alessandrina da Egnazia: Considerazioni sui rapporti tra Apulia e l’Egitto tolemaico,” Xenia 2 (1993), pp. 45–70. On the influence of Taranto on the workshops of Corinth, Cyrene, and Sicily, especially in the third century BC, see D. Graepler, “Des Tanagréens en offrandes funéraires: L’exemple de Tarente,” in Jeammet 2003b, pp. 277–84. For terracotta statues in Magna Graecia, see, for example, the head in Pugliese Carratelli 1983, pp. 501–2, figs, 546–47; see also the statues found near Heraclea, ibid., p. 501, fig. 545. ↩
On Lysippos’s influence in Taras, see also Lippolis 1996, p. 314. Excavations performed on the acropolis of Heraclea uncovered coroplastic workshops with kilns for firing both vases and figures and many molds reproducing various types of statuary by the Sicyonian artist presumably connected to a “branch of the school of Lysippos” that moved to Heraclea. See P. Moreno, Il genio differente. Alla scoperta della maniera antica (Milan, 2002), pp. 151–59. ↩
On characteristics of Tarentine plastic arts in the Hellenistic period and relations with the Attic post-Phidian milieu, see Orlandini 1983, pp. 482–506. For a more general discussion of the blending of various elements in Western sculpture, particularly at the beginning in the second half of the fifth century BC, see Rolley 1994-99, vol. 2, pp. 191–96. The melancholy type with finely drawn features, so common in Taranto, also characterizes the heads of the Dioscuri in a group from the Ionian temple of Marasà in Locri dating to the late fifth century BC; see F. Costabile, “Le statue frontonali del tempio Marasà a Locri,” RM 102 (1995), pp. 9–62; P. Danner, Westgriechische Akrotere (Mainz, 1997), p. 63, B 40. See also Croissant 2007, pp. 316–20. ↩
On marble or stone funerary statues in the Hellenistic age, see Belli Pasqua 1995, pp. 65–67. ↩
On the presence of typified terracotta heads in the mid-Italic region and relations between Taras and the production of southern Etruria and the Italic centers, see M. Papini, Antichi volti della Repubblica: La ritrattistica in Italia centrale tra IV e II secolo a.C. (Rome, 2004), pp. 207–80. See also S. Ciaghi in Bonghi Jovino 1990, pp. 127–45 and Pensabene 2001, pp. 88–89; C. Rolley, “La scultura della Magna Grecia,” in Pugliese Carratelli 1996, pp. 378–79; S. Steingräber, “Zum Phänomen der etruskisch-italischen Votivköpfe,” RM 87 (1980), p. 236; and A. Maggiani, “Il problema del ritratto,” in Artigianato artistico: L’Etruria settentrionale interna in età ellenistica (Milan, 1985), pp. 89–95. ↩
For the presence in Lucera of Tarentine craftsmen specializing in works of higher artistic quality, such as statues, see D’Ercole 1990, pp. 307–12; and Orlandini 1983, pp. 501–6. For the Tarentine influence in Ariccia, see Carafa 1996, pp. 273–94. We should also consider observations on fragments of later fictile statues from the area of the Domus Tiberiana on the Palatine Hill, Rome, dating from the first century BC and related to a neo-Attic milieu; it is apparent from the hairstyles and the rendering of the facial features that they derive from the plastic arts of Magna Graecia of the fifth and fourth centuries BC; see Tomei 1992, pp. 171–226. ↩
For the passage to a more individualized typology, see P. Pensabene, “Cippi busti e ritratti: Nota in margine a M. F. Kilmer, ‘The Shoulder Bust in Sicily and South and Central Italy,’ Göteborg, 1977,” ArchCl 16 (1977), pp. 425–35. On the Romanization of Apulia, see E. Lippolis, Fra Taranto e Roma: Società e cultura urbana in Puglia tra Annibale e l’età imperiale (Taranto, 1998) pp. 39–55, 101–11. ↩
For reclining figures, see Taranto 1995, pp. 166–69 and nos. 6 and 9; for Metaponto, see G. M. Signore, “Rilievi fittili con recumbente dal Ceramico di Metaponto,” Studi di Antichità 9 (1996), pp. 299–359. On the reclining figures in Locri, see M. Barra Bagnasco, “I recumbenti,” in Barra Bagnasco 1977, pp. 151–69. For the reclining figures in Sicily and in particular those coming from the votive deposit of Fontana Calda at Butera, see Portale 2008, pp. 42–44 with prior bibliography. For the subject in general, see J. M. Dentzer, Le motif du banquet couché dans le Proche-Orient et le monde grec du VII au IV siècle avant J.C., Bibliothèque des écoles françaises d’Athènes et de Rome 246 (Rome, 1982). ↩
See A. Pautasso, “Rilievi da una tomba d’età ellenistica di Centuripe,” in G. Rizza, Scavi e ricerche a Centuripe (Palermo, 2002), pp. 115–26. The close ties between the craftsmen of Taras and those of Kentoripa (Centuripe) in the Hellenistic period can be documented not only in the field of terracotta but also in polychrome pottery. Those contacts were probably established in part through the military campaigns conducted in Magna Graecia by Dionysius I and II and Agathocles and in the wake of the Hannibalic War; regarding these, see E. Lippolis, “La ceramica policroma tarantina,” Taras 14 (1994), pp. 263–310. For the discoveries of Tarentine reclining figures in Sicily, see M. Barra Bagnasco, “I recumbenti,” in Barra Bagnasco 1977, pp. 151–69, n. 27. ↩
On the heroic connotation and the aristocratic ideal that can be seen in the funerary deposits of the Hellenistic period, see Abruzzese Calabrese 1996, pp. 189–97. We should also consider in this context the significance of the semata in Lippolis 1994, pp. 109–28. On the relationship between votive deposits and funerary areas in Taranto, see Taranto 1995, pp. 41–49. ↩
See the introduction in this volume, and also E. Paribeni, “Volti, teste calve e parrucche,” AttiMGrecia n.s. 2 (1958), pp. 63–68. For rounded-off backs of heads achieved by molds, see the example of a head and bust mold of Artemis in Geneva’s Musée d’Art et d’Histoire published in Kingsley 1981, pp. 44 and 46, figs. 6–8. ↩
On technical procedures, see Merker 2000, p. 18. ↩
On the facial asymmetries, see S. Stucchi, “Nota introduttiva sulle correzioni ottiche nell’arte greca fino a Mirone,” Annuario della Scuola archeologica in Atene e delle Missioni italiane in Oriente 30–32 (1952–54), pp. 23–73; and L. A. Schneider, Asymmetrie griechischer Köpfe vom 5. J-h. bis zum Hellenismus (Wiesbaden, 1973), pp. 6–10. On relations between terracotta statuary and bronze sculpture, see C. Vaphopoulou-Richardson, “Large Sculpture and Minor Arts: A Brief Survey of the Relationship between Sculpture and Terracotta Figurines,” in Akten des XIII Internationalen Kongresses für klassische Archäologie, Berlin, 1988 (Mainz am Rhein, 1990), pp. 396–97. On the hypothesis that certain prototypes were developed from models designed for bronzes, see Merker 2000, p. 14. ↩