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Alex Boethius and J.B. Ward-Perkins: Etruscan and Roman Archi tecture. The Pelican History of Art — Penguin Books, Harmondsworth 1970. From A.W. Lawrence’s ‘Greek Architecture’ of 1957 to the present volume, and including these, only six deal with architecture only. This distinction is an assessment of the crucial character of the architectural periods dealt with. Of such really key periods, perhaps the most important in the line of progenitors of our own architectural thinking, the Italian quattro- and cinquecento are still in the preparatory stage. If deferment is a measure of importance, the penultimate place allotted to Roman and pre-Roman Italic architecture involves a value judgment with which one can only agree. Not surprisingly in our environment-conscious times, the co authors chosen are both well known for their interest in planning and urban design. Dr Boethius has given in his part of the work, which carries the story from earliest beginnings to the dawn of the Augustan age, a running commentary on town design which is not only most welcome and necessary, but also stands in pleasant contrast to the comparative (and nearly complete) neglect that was displayed by the author of the first purely architectural book in the series, A.W. Lawrence’s ‘Greek architecture’. The discussion begins with late Neolithic times, and gives only a slight sketch of Bronze Age developments, though, as we shall see, these may found to be of extreme importance. The Archaic centuries (for reasons better than more convenience we apply the terms of Greek history to contemporary Italic history too) are o f course entirely under Etruscan sway. The difficult thing to decide is just how great the Greek share in this archaic Etrusco-ltalic architecture was. The problem o f the later. Late Republican direct influence of Greece is the one which engages the author’s attention above all else, but the nature of the ‘consuetudo Tuscanica’ is not very autochtho nous either, and if we call it an Etruscan synthesis as against the absorption of Hellenistic art later, which should properly be called the Roman synthesis, both are palpably absorption phenomena and beset with all the theoretical difficulties of these. The author, it seems, accepts a shade too readily Vitruvius’ thesis of the Tuscan ‘consuetudo’ as a well-fused entity. It may well be argued that precisely because pre-Hellenistic Italic and Roman architecture were still very much a conglomerate, with sometimes conflicting elements still disrupting it, the enthusiastic acceptance of successive further 54 Grecifying practices was made easier. Structurally, according to the author, little has been added to the stock-in-trade of Italic by the Etruscans, a view somewhat contrary to the hitherto accepted one, namely that vaulting was an Etruscan contribution. Also in town planning, the author finds little to distinguish, in spite of many quoted examples of ancient views to the contrary, a ‘grown’ type of Etruscan city from its Archaic Greek counterpart. He finds the most original Etrusco-Italic element of the Tuscan style in the atrium-type houseplan and the wide-fronted, high-podiummed temple, both with strong axial possibilities. This is certainly not contemporary Greek, but is it as unquestionably Etruscan as the author suggests? First of all, the non-frontality of the temple position is mainly Doric, and predominantly Mainland. Ionic detail as well as orientation shows much more frontal emphasis (quite apart from the axial position of the altar which is observed throughout the Greek world); the comparatively non-canonic acceptance of more than six columns in front, and the deep spatial richness of the entrance porch ;are also strong frontal factors, and it is interesting to note that even Archaic Doric in Magna Graecia and Sicily displays similar tenden cies, though the peristyle character is still impeccably preserved. This, we nay take it. is a very early influence of the Italic environ ment upon Greek colonial architecture. It is not the only thing they have in common, and at variance from Mainland Doric. The Italic manner demands, and often gets, a multiplicity of temples in any given town, three being apparently the canon; and while there is no real archaeological evidence for this observance, there is evidence of triple cellas with a common front porch, something which helps to explain the greatly extended frontal width, and thus frontal emphasis, of the Tuscan temple. Multiple cellas do not occur in Greek temples, but close coordination to temples of comparable importance does occur, very clearly, in the Western colonies: they jume in parallel pairs in Paestum and Selinus (emphatically there) and at Akragas they form an end-to-end chain. These are certainly no imported (.reck suggestions. One is forced to admit a certain vciy Fi i jo md powerful stock o f 'I ta lic ’ ideas at woik in archaic and even early C lassic times, including the Greek colonies. The question is, where does this originate? Just as a suggestion, we may revert now to the undoubtedly strong Bronze Age ‘koine’ of tholos-dromos tombs which links Italy with Greece and, indeed, with the whole Mediterranean an undoubtedly early manifestation of axiality, eclipsed on the Mainland to virtual extinction, less so in the East, 55 and perhaps least subdued in Italy - which would explain its ultimate come-back in such vigorous manner in the latter two areas. Admittedly, contributory evidence from the history of religious cults may be difficult to marshal. But another intriguing coincidence comes to mind too: the unexplained syndromic occur rence of curvilinear architectural forms (vaults for instance, and/or curvilinear plan shapes) with axiality. Guido v. Kaschnitz-Weinberg has suggested that cave architecture is the origin of frontality, since caves have only their fronts as exterior expression. It may be useful to think of this obvious truth in our context. The author’s main concern, however, is the ‘consuetudo Italica’ in its Hellenized version, in which he sees the most truly Roman power to create fusion. He naturally connects it with the eastward expansion of Roman power in the second century BC, but also notes its coincidence with the invention of Roman concrete, the ‘opus caementitium.’ This latter was more of a gradual development, from early rubble work ( ‘caem entum ’ means unhewn stone, and NOT our own ‘cement’!) by increasing the proportion of mortar until it predominated, and necessitated the erection of timber framework first, from which the author concludes that this was a proper field for Roman ability to ‘organise the carpenters'. It seems however that another aspect may be more important: not the skilled work of the carpenters but the unskilled work of hordes of slaves which was ultimately the factor that made Roman concrete at all possible, and it was the abundance of slaves from wars that is at the bottom of it all. Seen in this light, the concrete ‘revolution’ looks more like a re lapse into lazier ways of thinking rather than a revolutionary sharpen ing of wits: a problematical peice of ‘progress'. This view seems more in harmony with what we know and how we evaluate the other events of the period, generally a decline of free institutions and free habits of thinking. And the sudden emergence of tremendous axial schemes should be seen in this context. The greatest of these, the sanctuary of the Fortuna Primigenia was erected on the hillside overlooking the town of Praeneste, a place developed by Sulla for his veterans of Eastern campaigns, and obviously modelled on, though far surpassing them in accuracy and dogmatic correctness, such schemes as the Asklepieion at Kos and the sancturary of the Athana Lindea, both in the Rhodian orbit. (These in. turn are the near-axial interpretations of the general hill side monumentality of Pergamene planning.) The author deals with these instances of axiality as identical in principle with what was to be expected from the frontal possibilities of Italic temple archi tecture. But there is a distinct difference between these land-em bracing open schemes, and the 'intimate' axiality of the templeforum relationship, or even more the axiality of the atrial house plan. Pergamon-based axiality has tew points of contact with the interior axial schemes which were to dominate the later Roman scene so completely: the most obvious of these contact points is the theatre, potentially an axial arrangement ever since the 5th century BC Dion ysian drama, out increasingly ‘interior,’ just as the axial development of agorai also goes hand in hand with ever increasing visual intro version. The great Greek precedent for this ‘interior axiality’ is the Didymaion near Miletus, an Ionic masterpiece — but whatever we say about it, it seems that all roads, even from Rome and its axiality, lead back to the Eastern shores of the Aegean! If the Italics were not the creators of either type of axiality, they certainly provided a very fertile ground for both o f them. In his chapters on the Augustan and post-Augustan architecture of pagan Rome, Dr Ward-Perkins also stipulates a ‘revolution’ — that of Hadrian, or rather his architects. He sees in the suddenly desired complexity o f vault forms a departure into spatial architecture made possible solely by the development of more assurance in concrete, a revolutionary dissatisfaction with the enforced serenity of Augustan Classicism and its orthodoxy in marble; and, strange as it may seem, Hadrian’s Rococo fancy at Tivoli does have, in spite o f its obvious pleasure-garden-for-the-rich character, that kind of canon-breaking quality which comes nearer to the workings of a free mind. Each self-sufficient unit of the Tivoli villa is axial in and within itself, while they all maintain completely free, non-axial exterior relations. It was this ease of setting that distinguished it, and such follow-ups as the Villa at Piazza Armerina in Sicily, from the oppressive thor oughgoing multiple axialities of the whole and parts o f Diocletian’s military palace at Spalato. It is Dr Ward-Perkin’s greatest contribut ion to have revealed, by his impartial treatment of even hitherto obscure provincial focal points of Roman architecture, how it all lost its Imperial coherence but produced a vital and fruitful provincial "koine’ from which further development could start — not unlike the story of spoken languages. I. V. Par so It. 57