Pompey Portrait: ключевая черта, напоминающая Александра Великого
Consider Pompey's renowned portrait, a captivating testament to the Roman Republic's bustling art scene and political climate. Arresting our gaze, it's entwined with a fascinating feature that whispers a tale of reverence, borrowing from one of history's most renowned figures: Alexander the Great.
Pompey, a distinguished Roman general and politician, was no stranger to emulation. His portrait, lensing through the centuries, openly acknowledges Alexander. To discern this, we delve into the intricate details of the artwork, where the echoes of the Macedonian conqueror reverberate.
Pompey's Portrait and Alexander's Toga
At first glance, Pompey's toga seems ordinary, a staple of Roman dress. Yet, a closer inspection unveils a subtle yet significant detail - a purple stripe at the border. This wasn't just any stripe, but a lituus, a fan-like motif derived from the staff of a religious official, the augur. Alexander, in his likenesses, was often portrayed with a purple robe adorned with a similar lituus.
This sartorial nod wasn't coincidental. It was Pompey's way of basking in Alexander's legendary glow, associating himself with the charismatic and victorious Macedonian. Historians conjecture that Pompey's marcha, or triumph, in 61 BC might have been the catalyst for this stylistic choice, mirroring Alexander's attire during his own triumphs.
Symbolism of the Lituus
The lituus wasn't merely an aesthetic flourish. It signified more than just the wearer's wealth or power. As an augur's tool, used for interpreting omens, it denoted a divine connection. In Alexander's case, it bolstered his image as a man chosen by fate to accomplish greatness. Pompey, by adopting this symbol, implied a similar destiny for himself.
Moreover, the lituus was linked to the assimilated Greeks of Italy. By embellishing his toga with this motif, Pompey aligned himself with Italian Greek culture, which was thriving during his time. This multinational or multicultural allusion reflected the dynamics of the late Roman Republic, making Pompey's garment a political statement as much as an aesthetic one.
Pompey's Portrait and Alexander's Conqueering Gestures
Another feature of Pompey's portrait that resonates with Alexander's likeness is his conquering gestures. In the portrait, Pompey is shown with his left arm extended, palm forward,closely mirroring Alexander's triumphant gestures in numerous sculptures and paintings. This pose, known as 'adlocutio,' was typically used by generals addressing their troops.
By adopting this gesture, Pompey not only echoed Alexander but also aligned himself with the storied Roman commanders who had employed it before him. It was a testament to his role as a warlord and a leader, underscoring his victories and legitimacy. Yet, for the discerning viewer, Alexander's influence was palpable, as if Pompey was saying, "I am like him, a conqueror of men and lands."
Pompey's Portrait and Alexander's Divinization
Pompey's portrait also hints at another aspect of Alexander's legacy - his perceived divinity. In Greek-speaking cities, Alexander was often worshipped as a god or a son of Zeus. Pompey, while not explicitly claiming divinity, engaged in activities that suggested he believed in his own exceptional nature.
His extensive coinage, depicting himself with symbols of power and victory, and his allowance of temples and cults in his honor, aptly demonstrate this. Thus, Pompey's portrait, with its Alexander-inspired details, can be seen as another manifestation of his divine aspirations, a silent claim of a comparing status to the Macedonian conqueror.
Pompey's Absent Eye and Alexander's Veiled Prophecy
An intriguing feature of Pompey's portrait is the absence of his left eye. Some experts argue that this was a juliomarcian portrait type, a way to differentiate portraits of Pompey from those of Julius Caesar or Mark Antony. However, others propose that it was a veiled reference to Alexander.
According to a famous legend, when Alexander held a banquet at clicking the final glass at which he had hoped to toast himself as 'Great,' a seer prophesied he would lose the use of his left eye on the day he realized the extent of his conquests. This blinded eye, then, could be Pompey's cunning nod to Alexander's destiny, foreshadowing his own ambitious, though ultimately tragic, campaigns.
Today, Pompey's portrait stands as a testament to the art of politics and politics of art in ancient Rome. Its intricate details, echoing Alexander, remind us that history isn't just about facts and figures, it's about narratives, emulations, and subtle whispers nestled in the folds of time.