Mediterranean Myths from Classical Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja Mediterranean Myths from Classical Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja © 2006 ZRC SAZU Editors / Uredili Metoda Kokole, Barbara Murovec, Marjeta Šašel Kos, Michael Talbot Design / Oblikovanje Milojka Žalik Huzjan Publisher / Založba Založba ZRC Represented by / Zanjo Oto Luthar Editor-in-Chief / Glavni urednik Vojislav Likar Print / Tisk Littera picta, d. o. o. Figure on the Front Cover / Slika na sprednji strani ovitka Orphei Argonautica, Utrecht 1689 (Original in / Izvirnik v: Narodna in univerzitetna knjižnica, Ljubljana; with kind permission / z dovoljenjem). Figure on the Back Cover / Slika na zadnji strani ovitka [Jurij Andrej Gladic], Relatio Historico-Poetica …, fol. 1v (Original in / Izvirnik v: Arhiv Republike Slovenije, Ljubljana; with kind permission / z dovoljenjem). Published with the financial support of the Slovenian Research Agency and Scientific Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts. TiskanozdenarnopodporoAgencijezaraziskovalnodejavnostRSinZRCSAZU. CIP - Kataložni zapis o publikaciji Narodna in univerzitetna knjižnica, Ljubljana 292:7.046.1 MEDITERRANEAN myths from classical antiquity to the eighteenth century = Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja / edited by, uredili Metoda Kokole ... [et al.]. - Ljubljana : ZRC, ZRC SAZU, 2006 ISBN 961-6568-04-3 1.Vzp. stv. nasl. 2. Kokole, Metoda 224905984 255:7.046.1(082)(0.034.2) 255:821.09(082)(0.034.2) 930.85(37/38)(082)(0.034.2) MEDITERRANEAN myths from classical antiquity to the eighteenth century [Elektronski vir] = Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja / edited by, uredili Metoda Kokole ... [et al.]. - El. knjiga. - Ljubljana : Založba ZRC, 2010 Nacin dostopa (URL): http://hs.zrc-sazu.si/mediterranean_myths/ ISBN 978-961-254-178-1 1. Vzp. stv. nasl. 2. Kokole, Metoda 252672512 Digitalna verzija (pdf) je pod pogoji licence CC BY-NC-ND 4.0 prosto dostopna: https:// doi.org/10.3986/9789612541781. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher. Mediterranean Myths from Classical Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja Edited by / Uredili Metoda Kokole, Barbara Murovec, Marjeta Šašel Kos, Michael Talbot LJUBLJANA 2006 CONTENTS / VSEBINA Metoda KOKOLE, Preface / Predgovor .................................................................... 7 For the Introduction Namesto uvoda Marjeta ŠAŠEL KOS, A Few Remarks Concerning the archaiologia of Nauportus and Emona: The Argonauts ............................................................ 13 Argonavti: miticna preteklost Navporta in Emone Classical Mythology Anticni miti Maria Cecilia D’ERCOLE, Back from Troy: Diomedes and Other Heroes in the Ancient Mediterranean .................................................. 23 Nazaj iz Troje: Diomed in drugi heroji staroveškega Mediterana Gabrielle KREMER, Mythologie und Grabarchitektur am Beispiel der römerzeitlichen Grabbauten in Noricum und Pannonien .............................. 37 Mitologija in nagrobna arhitektura na primeru rimskih nagrobnih spomenikov v Noriku in Panoniji Archaeology Arheologija Irena LAZAR, The Roman Necropolis in Šempeter: The History of Research ...... 57 Rimska nekropola v Šempetru: zgodovina raziskav Andreja MAVER, The Arcade Tomb of Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, Slovenia ..... 73 Arkadna grobnica iz Šempetra v Savinjski dolini Classical Mythology in Literature and in Music Theatre of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries Klasicna mitologija v literaturi in glasbenem gledališcu 17. in 18. stoletja Marko Marincic, The Poetics of the Argonaut Voyage: Shamanism, Sorcery and Art .................................................................................................... 83 Poetika argonavtske odprave: šamanstvo, carovništvo in umetnost Renato RAFFAELLI, Da Ipsipile a Zelmira ........................................................... 103 Od Hipsipile do Zelmire Hendrik SCHULZE, Dramaturgical Setting, Representation of Characters and the Mythological Basis in Giacinto Andrea Cicognini’s and Francesco Cavalli’s Giasone............................................................................... 119 Dramaturgija, predstavitev znacajev in mitološka osnova za opero Jazon Giacinta Andree Cicogninija in Francesca Cavallija Michael TALBOT, Mythology in the Service of Eulogy: The Serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) ................................................................................ 131 Mitologija v službi evlogije: serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) Dinko FABRIS, Partenope da sirena a regina: il mito musicale di Napoli ........... 163 Partenopa od sirene do kraljice: glasbeni mit o Neaplju Perception and Reception of the Myth of the Argonauts in the Visual Arts Razumevanje in sprejemanje mita o argonavtih v upodabljajocih umetnostih Giovanna PERINI, Il fregio con le storie di Giasone dipinto dai Carracci a Palazzo Fava, Bologna ..................................................................... 189 Niz prizorov slikarjev Carracci iz Jazonove zgodbe v bolonjskem Palazzo Fava Stanko KOKOLE, Some Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Appropriations and Adaptations of the Myth of the Argonauts in Ljubljana: From Texts to Images ......................................................................................... 213 Nekaj ljubljanskih priredb in preobrazb zgodbe o argonavtih v 17. in 18. stoletju: od besed k podobam Barbara MUROVEC, Graphische Darstellungen der Geschichte Jasons im Lichte der Herausgeber- und Sammeltätigkeit Johann Weichard Valvasors ................. 259 Graficne upodobitve zgodbe o Jazonu v luci izdajateljskega in zbirateljskega delovanja Janeza Vajkarda Valvasorja Index / Imensko kazalo ...................................................................................... 277 Authors / Avtorji ................................................................................................. 289 Abstracts / Izvlecki ............................................................................................ 291 PREFACE The present volume is a multidisciplinary collection of scholarly articles that makes a comparative examination of certain themes forming part of the common Mediterranean cultural heritage. The use of mythological subjects in literature, the visual arts and music was, indeed, a Europe­an phenomenon par excellence, and Slovenia, which lies at a crossroads where Slavic, Romance and Germanic cultures have been meeting and mingling for centuries, seemed an ideal place for attempting to bridge the gap between regional and pan-European research. The thirteen articles published here cover the period from the era of Ancient Greece, when the so-called Mediterranean myths took root, to the 18th century, when these myths enjoyed wide currency in literature and the arts. The interests of the majority of the present authors centre on a nucleus of mythological subjects, especially ones connected with the myth of the Argonauts and the legendary voyages of the ship Argo carrying several of the best-known Greek heroes. It is not by chance that the myth of the Argonauts was chosen for a kind of a fil rouge for the present volume, since it is also closely linked to the local history of certain Slovenian towns, notably Ljubljana (Emona) and Vrhnika (Nauportus), which, according to some 17th- and 18th-cen­tury historians, were founded by Jason and his fellow Argonauts. Most of the present articles were first presented at an international interdisciplinary scientific conference, Mediterranean Myths from the Classical Antiquity to the Eighteenth Century, organised by the Scientific Research centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts within the framework of a lecture series entitled “Historical Seminar” and held at the Italian Cultural Institute in Ljubljana from 21 to 23 October 2004. The conference was accompanied by three interrelated events: the docu­mentary exhibition Il canto della Sirena – Partenope: un mito musicale prepared by Michčle Sajous d’Oria (collaborator of the Centre of Music Research – Casa Piccinni of Bari) and Dinko Fabris (the latter was also present as one of the participants); the concert Italian Music of the 17th Century and the Myth of the Argonauts given by Barbara Tišler (soprano) and Domen Marincic (harpsichord); and an excursion to one of Slovenia’s foremost Roman sites, the Necropolis in Šempeter (for which two of the present authors, Irena Lazar and Andreja Maver, acted as guides). The present articles are organised thematically as well as chrono­logically. The introductory contribution and the two concluding articles relate directly to the presence of the Myth of the Argonauts within the cultural heritage of modern Slovenia. They contain in addition some new interpretations and discussions of hitherto unknown documents that will increase the knowledge of Slovenian and international scholars working in this field. The remaining articles are grouped into sections dedicated respectively to Classical Mythology; Archaeology; Classical Mythology in Literature and in Music Theatre of the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries; and Perception and Reception of the Myth of the Argonauts in the Visual Arts. The volume as a whole was reviewed before publication by two leading Slovenian scholars, while individual articles were independently reviewed by one Slovenian scholar and one international specialist. All the articles are accompanied by a summary in Slovenian. Abstracts (with keywords) in both English and Slovenian are provided at the end of the volume. Because of the interdisciplinary nature of the book, four editors were needed to work on the texts submitted for publication. We have en-deavoured to achieve as much uniformity as possible within the volume as a whole, although this has proved an unusually hard task, given the four languages employed for the contributions and the differences of conven­tional practice within the various disciplines. I would like to take this opportunity to express my deepest gratitude to all my co-editors, without whose work and precious advice this volume would never have seen the light of day. Our special thanks go also to all the reviewers. And, last but not least, we are grateful to the Slovenian Research Agency and to the Scientific Research Centre of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts for their financial support of the present volume. Metoda Kokole Ljubljana, 27 January 2006 PREDGOVOR Pricujoca publikacija je zbirka znanstvenih razprav, ki prinašajo soocenje raziskovalnih pristopov do nekaterih tematik, ki so del skupne mediteran­ske kulturne dedišcine. Uporaba mitoloških vsebin v literaturi, v upoda­bljajocih umetnostih in v glasbi je bila namrec prvovrstni pojav evropske kulture in prav Slovenija, ki leži ravno na tocki, kjer so se stoletja stikale in prežemale kulture slovanskega, romanskega in nemškega sveta, se zdi idealen kraj za poskus premostitve med podrocnimi in vseevropskimi raz­iskovalnimi prizadevanji. Trinajst izbranih razprav obravnava obdobje od casa anticne Grcije, ko so tako imenovani mediteranski miti pognali korenine, do 18. stoletja, ko so bili prav ti miti deležni najširše pozornosti književnih ustvarjalcev in umetnikov. Vecina avtorjev se v svojih razpravah osredotoca na eno od srcik vseh mitoloških tematik, na dele zgodbe, povezane z mitom o argo­navtih in o legendarnih potovanjih ladje Argo, na kateri so pluli številni najbolj znani grški heroji. Ni slucajno, da je bil za rdeco nit pricujocega dela izbran mit o argo­navtih, saj je prav ta tesno povezan s krajevno zgodovino nekaterih slo­venskih mest, predvsem Ljubljane (Emone) in Vrhnike (Navporta), ki naj bi ju po mnenju nekaterih zgodovinarjev 17. in 18. stoletja ustanovili Jazon in njegovi argonavti. Vecina tu objavljenih razprav je bila prvotno predstavljena v obli­ki referatov na mednarodnem interdisciplinarnem znanstvenem srecanju Mediteranski miti od antike do 18. stoletja, ki ga je med 21. in 23. okto­brom 2004 pripravil Znanstvenoraziskovalni center Slovenske akademije znanosti in umetnosti v okviru rednega ciklusa vabljenih predavanj Hi­storicni seminar. Srecanje je v svojih prostorih gostil Italijanski inštitut za kulturo v Sloveniji. Znanstveno srecanje so spremljale tri povezane stranske prireditve. Dokumentarno razstavo Pesem sirene – Partenopa: glasbeni mit sta pripravila avtorja Michčl Sajous d’Oria (sodelavec Glas­benoraziskovalnega središca – Casa Piccinni v Bariju), Italija, in Dinko Fabris, ki je bil tudi eden od referentov znanstvenega srecanja. Koncert Italijanska glasba 17. stoletja in mit o argonavtih sta izvedla sopranistka Barbara Tišler in cembalist Domen Marincic. Aktivni udeleženci so pod vodstvom Irene Lazar in Andreje Maver obiskali tudi edinstven slovenski rimski spomenik, nekropolo v Šempetru pri Celju. Clanki so razporejeni po tematiki in hkrati kronološko. Uvodni pri­spevek in obe zakljucni razpravi se neposredno nanašajo na prisotnost mita o argonavtih v slovenski kulturni dedišcini. Vsebujejo tudi nove interpre­tacije znanih dejstev in razlage strokovno še neobravnavanih dokumentov, ki bodo nedvomno prispevale k boljšemu poznavanju te problematike tako v slovenskih kot tudi mednarodnih strokovnih krogih. Preostale razprave so združene v naslednje vsebinske sklope: Klasicna mitologija, Arheolo­gija, Klasicna mitologija v literaturi in glasbenem gledališcu 17. in 18. stoletja ter Razumevanje in sprejemanje mita o argonavtih v upodablja­jocih umetnostih. Zbornik v celoti sta recenzirala dva vodilna slovenska znanstveni­ka s podrocja humanistike, vsako posamezno razpravo pa sta še dodatno ocenila po en slovenski in tuji strokovnjak za tematike, ki jih razprave obravnavajo. Vse razprave imajo povzetke v slovenskem jeziku, na koncu publikacije pa so objavljeni še izvlecki s kljucnimi besedami v sloven-skem in angleškem jeziku. Zaradi interdisciplinarne narave publikacije smo besedila urejali štirje podrocni uredniki. Poskušali smo doseci cim vecjo stopnjo enotnosti, kar se je zaradi štirih razlicnih jezikov, v katerih so napisane razprave, in razlicnih praks, ki so sicer znacilne za posamezne vede, izkazalo kot izjemno zahtevna naloga. Na tem mestu bi se rada še posebej zahvalila vsem kolegom soured-nikom, saj brez njihovega dela in dragocenih nasvetov to delo ne bi moglo iziti. Naša posebna zahvala gre seveda tudi vsem recenzentom. In ne na­zadnje smo hvaležni tudi Agenciji za raziskovalno dejavnost Republike Slovenije in Znanstvenoraziskovalnemu centru Slovenske akademije zna­nosti in umetnosti za financno podporo, ki sta jo naklonila tej publikaciji. Metoda Kokole V Ljubljani, 27. januarja 2006 For the Introduction Namesto uvoda A Few Remarks Concerning the archaiologia of Nauportus and Emona: The Argonauts MARJETA ŠAŠEL KOS Greek historians and geographers denoted by the word archaiologia the ancient history of a town or a region. This is usually taken to include myths concerning the foundation and origins of different places and cu­ stoms related to the oldest known facts from the history of a country, for which we today often use the expression ‘mythological story’. The word ‘mythology’ itself, a compound of mythos and logos, reveals a contradic­tory content. While mythos means a story delivered and transmitted by words – one not yet written down and fixed as a text – the second element, logos, has many meanings, but the most common is that of a written word or a doctrine based on rational thinking. ‘Mythical beginnings’ – which may be invented at any time and for any reason – are, so to speak, the ir­ rational side of history: not yet history proper. The ‘ancient history’ of the Nauportus–Emona region is closely connected with the story of the return journey of the Argonauts. The Argonauts were the heroes who belonged to the generation before the Trojan War; the Chronicle of St Jerome (Eu­sebius) dated their expedition to the year 1270 (55b, ed. Helm). They are associated principally with Thessaly, but partly also with central Greece and the Peloponnese. The main extant sources for the story are Pindar’s Fourth Pythian, the Argonautica of Apollonius of Rhodes (third century BC) and Apollodorus. The epic was retold under the Flavian emperors by Valerius Flaccus, who, although he introduced some inflections making obeisance to Rome’s position as a supreme power, imitated Apollonius, as did most of the poets who composed Argonautica after him. Themainfactsofthestorymaybesummarizedbriefly. KingPeliasof Iolcus (modern Volos in Thessaly, beneath Mt Pelion), perhaps the leading Mycenaean settlement in Thessaly, sent the legitimate heir, Jason – in order to get rid of him – to recover the fleece of a golden ram. On it Phrixus and Hele, the children of Athamas, one of the previous Thessalian (or perhaps Boeotian) kings, had once fled from their stepmother Ino to Aia, the king­dom of Sun,ruledbythe king Aeetes. Aiawas associated from early times with Colchis at the eastern end of the Black Sea; the story is evidently re­lated to the first Mycenaen explorations of the Black Sea coasts before the period of the Greek colonization by Miletus and other Greek poleis from the seventh century BC onwards. With the help of Athena, the miraculous ‘talking’shipArgowasbuilt. ThegreatestheroesoftheagejoinedJasonin hisexpedition;theynumberedaboutfifty,andalthoughthecrewlistsdiffer widely, they all include twenty-seven heroes, who must therefore figure in theoriginalstory;amongtheseareHercules,Hylas,Orpheus,theDioscuri, Peleus(fatherofAchilles)andTheseus.Thegreatestdifferencebetweenthe HomericepicsandthestoryoftheArgonautsisthepossessionbymanyof thelatterheroesofsupernaturalpowers.Severaladventuresoccurredalre­ady on the way to Colchis, the last being the passage of the Argo through the Clashing Rocks, Symplegades, at the entrance to the Black Sea. Aeetes made Jason accomplish challenging tasks in order to obtain the Golden Fleece, such as ploughing with fire-breathing bulls and killing the dragon whoguardedit.Heperformedallofthesewiththeaidoftheking’sdaugh­ter,thesorceressMedea,withwhomheafterwardsfledfromColchis.1 The itinerary of the Argonauts from Thessaly to Colchis corresponded more or less to the traditional commercial route leading to the Black Sea. The story is significant for various reasons, not least because it reflected on what was Greek and what was ‘other’, or foreign. In the main, ancient authors viewed the expedition as a reflection of the age of colonization and expansion, or, more simply, as a search for gold (Strabo, 1.2.39, cf. 11.2.19). The return journey, however, is much less straightforward. Accounts of it vary widely, taking the Argonauts to almost all of the then known world. Apollonius, who is the best authority on the Argonauts, had the opportuni­ty to choose between several itineraries: one was that of Hesiodus, Pindar, Hecataeus and Antimachus (ca. 400 BC), which led by way of the Phasis River, the Ocean, or the Red Sea, Libya and the Aegean. The alternative route was that of Sophocles, Euripides, Herodotus and probably Callima­chus, which led across the Black Sea, the Bosphorus and the Hellespont, thus corresponding more or less to that of the outward journey. Two of Apollonius’ most important sources were Timaeus, an early Hellenistic historian from Sicily, and the Hellenistic geographer Timagetus, author of the work On harbours. According to these authorities, the Argonauts returned along a large river that flows into the Black Sea (either the Tanais = the Don, or the Ister = the Danube), arriving eventually at the Pillars of Hercules (by Gibraltar) and proceeding across the western Mediterranean via Tyrrhenia, Corcyra and Libya. Apollonius opted for a combination of all three versions – but in his Literature concerning the Argonauts is extensive; see, for example, Alain Mau­rice Moreau, Le mythe de Jason et Médée, Paris 1994; one of the latest mono­graphs is: Paul Dräger, Die Argonautika des Apollonios Rhodios. Das zweite Zorn-Epos der griechischen Literatur (Beiträge zur Altertumskunde 158), München, Leipzig 2001, with further bibliography. own peculiar way.2 Rejecting the erroneous idea that the Colchian river Phasis communicated with the Ocean, and consequently rejecting the first version, he made the Argonauts go down the Phasis along the southern coast of the Black Sea as far as the promontory Carambis, which corre­sponds to the second itinerary. From there, he made them regain the Adri­ atic by way of the two arms of the Danube; Timagetus was the only known writer before him who assigned this itinerary to the Argonauts. According to Timagetus, however, they would have ended up in the western Mediter­ranean, whereas according to Apollonius, they emerged into the Adriatic. Apollonius wished to include in his poem the Adriatic legends concerning the killing of Apsyrtus and the ensuing foundation of several cities by the Colchians.3 From the northern Adriatic he made the Argonauts reach the western Mediterranean along the Eridanus, which he identified with the Padus (= Po), and along the Rhodanus (=Rhône), which was regarded by Timaeus as the second arm of the Danube. As far as Corcyra the Argona­ uts then followed the itinerary of Timaeus and, partly, Homer. From that point they travelled to the Peloponnese, from where they were ejected to Libya, continuing the itinerary of Hesiodus, Pindar and Antimachus. They finally reached Thessaly via Crete.4 Apollonius was a poet and by virtue of that was allowed to invent anything. The historical truth counted for little in such epics – and this holds true also for Homer and other poets. However, it is always fascinating to analyse what is the historical kernel of the Greek legends, because if there were absolutelynorealitybehindthem,theywould not have existed. Apol­loniuswishedtobesystematic:tocollectallthereminiscencesofthereturn voyage of the Argonauts that had been documented before him. He did not wishtosacrificeanyregionsmentionedinearlieraccountsexceptonesthat he regarded as incredible – i.e., those along the Tanais, the northern Ocean andtheMediterraneanwestoftheRhodanus. However,hisownaccount,a summa of all the previous ones, similarly lacks credibility; it is composed of bits and pieces that fit together badly. There is no rational connection between the Adriatic and the Rhodanus, or between Corcyra and Libya. Apolloniuswasthusforcedtoresorttodivineinterventionsandviolenttem­pests.Hiscompositionlacksunity,buthewaspleasedtopresentacomplete list of the Argonautic legends that reflected his erudition. Fairy tales and 2 Paul Dräger, Vier Versionen des Argonautenmythos, Études classiques (Publi­ cations du Centre univ. de Luxembourg) 5, 1993, 25–45. 3 Radoslav Katicic, Podunavlje i Jadran u epu Apolonija Rodanina (Le bassin danubien et l’Adriatique dans l’épopée d’Apollonios de Rhodes), Godišnjak 7, Centar za balkanološka ispitivanja 5, 1970, 71–132 (= Id., Illyricum mythologi- cum, Zagreb 1995, 31–114). 4 Émile Delage, La Géographie dans les Argonautiques d’Apollonios de Rhodes (Bibl. des Universités du Midi 19), Bordeaux, Paris 1930. science are intermingled; he perhaps nevervisited any of the places that he described. One finds giants with six arms, Clashing Rocks, the gardens of theHesperideswithgoldenapples,etc.,althoughhislocationshavetheme­rit of precision: he placed Calypso in the southern Ionian Sea, Circe on the Italian(Ausonian) coast, Scylla andCharybdis in thestraits of Sicily. Pliny theEldercriticizedthelackofscientificdetailinApollonius’sgeography,as seen, for example, in the division of the Danube into two arms, the placing of an Amber Island, Electris, at the mouth of the Eridanus, and the non-exi­ stentcommunication of the latter river with the Rhenus and Rhodanus (the RhineandRhône). We thus arrive in the northern Adriatic, where we confront Pliny’s claim that indeed “there was no river that would flow from the Danube to the Adriatic Sea. In my opinion, the writers were deceived by the fact that the ship Argo went down to the Adriatic on a river not far from Tergeste, although it is no longer known which river. More diligent writers report that it was transported across the Alps; it arrived there from the Dan­ube, then via the Savus and the Nauportus River, whose source was lo­cated between Emona and the Alps, and which for this reason acquired its name” (N. h. 3.128). However, the sources of the Danube were not known at the time of Apollonius, and Pliny’s criticism of him is anachronistic. It is known that Apollonius confused the bay of Tergeste and that of Kvarner (Quarnaro), regarding them to be one and the same.5 Pliny could no longer identify the river that flowed into the Adriatic, it could have been the Ar-sia (Raša), Ningus (Mirna), or Timavus (Timavo), but any identification is entirely hypothetical. Pliny found in his sources an association of the Nauportus (modern Vrhnika) with the Argonauts, probably on account of the false etymology of the name: navis (naus in Greek) = the ship, and portare = to carry. The real etymology of the toponym Nauportus, trans­mitted by Strabo in the accusative as Nauponton or Pamporton, is much more complicated;6 the name may be related to Celtic portorium, a levy­ing of tolls and other duties by the local Taurisci at this important empo­rium about half way between Aquileia and Segesta/Siscia (modern Sisak).7 From Aquileia cargo was transported on waggons to Nauportus, where it was transferred to boats and conveyed down the rivers Nauportus/Emona (= Ljubljanica) and Savus (= Sava) to the flourishing Pannonian market 5 Carlo Corbato, Gli Argonauti in Adriatico, Archeografo Triestino 101, ser. 4, 53, 1993, 171–184: 177. 6 Marjeta Šašel Kos, Nauportus: anticni literarni in epigrafski viri (Nauportus: Literary and Epigraphical Sources), in: J. Horvat, Nauportus (Vrhnika) (Dela 1. razr. SAZU 33), Ljubljana 1990, 17–33 (pp. 143–159). 7 Jaroslav Šašel, Keltisches portorium in den Ostalpen (zu Plin. n.h. III 128), in: Corolla memoriae Erich Swoboda dedicata, Graz, Köln 1966, 198–204 (= Id., Opera selecta, Ljubljana 1992, 500–506). centre at Segesta/Siscia, and further downstream to the Danube and to settlements along this river. Later, when Nauportus had ceased to be such an important settlement as it had been at the end of the Republican period and in the early Principate, Emona (modern Ljubljana) became associated with the Argonauts, and Jason was regarded as its founder. This connec­tion is reported by the Greek historian Zosimus (fifth/sixth century AD), who wrote that Alaric, who had earlier, at the head of his Visigoths, in­vaded Greece and Epirus, marched into Italy (this occurred in AD 408) and immediately broke through the narrow passes leading from Pannonia to Venetia, “and pitched camp at Emona. This town lies between Upper Pannonia and Noricum. It is worthwhile telling what is known about this town and how it came to be founded in the first place. They say that the Argonauts, being pursued by Aietas, anchored at the mouths of the Dan­ ube, where it flows into the Black Sea. They decided it would be best to go on even against the current and row up this river with a following wind until they came nearer to the sea. They carried out this plan, and when they came to this place, they commemorated their arrival by founding this city. Then putting the Argo on a contrivance and hauling it four hundred stades to the sea, they anchored off the Italian shores, as the poet Peisander [from Laranda] tells, who has written an almost universal history in his work entitled ‘Marriages of Gods and Heroines’”(5.29.1–3).8 These data were accepted uncritically by the earliest researchers into the history of the Carniolan (Slovenian) lands, notably Johann Weichard Valvasor, who boasted that Emona was a settlement predating Rome itself, founded by Romulus some five hundred years later.9 The source consulted by Zosimus for these years was the History of Olympiodorus (from the beginning of the fifth century AD); Zosimus doubtless took the story of the foundation of Emona from the latter account. A similar story is transmitted also by a late Roman ecclesiastical historian, Sozomenus (1.6.5), and by a Byzantine ecclesiastical historian, Nicephorus Callistus (beginning of the fourteenth century AD; 7.50: PG 145. 1329 D – 1331 A).10 8 Translated by Ronald T. Ridley ([Zosimus] New History, a translation with commentary [Byzantina Australiensia 2], Canberra, 1982, 114); the Greek text consulted: François Paschoud, Zosime, Histoire nouvelle. Tome III 1ere partie (livre V). Texte établi et trad. par F. P. (Collection des Universités de France, Assoc. G. Budé), Paris 1986, 41–42. 9 On this claim, see Jože Kastelic, Anticna zgodovina v Valvasorjevi Slavi voj­ vodine Kranjske in njeni ilustratorji (Die Geschichte des Altertums in J. W. Valvasor’s Die Ehre des Hertzogthums Crain und ihre Illustratoren), in: Vita artis perennis. Ob osemdesetletnici akademika Emilijana Cevca / Festschrift Emilijan Cevc, ed. A. Klemenc, Ljubljana 2000, 315–340: 326, 328. 10 Rajko Bratož, Grška zgodovina [Greek History] Ljubljana, 20032, 245–249. Argo’s Return Voyage / Povratek ladje Argo, from / iz: Apollonios Rhodios, The Argonautika. The Story of Jason and the Quest for the Golden Fleece, tran­ slated, with introduction and glossary by Peter Green, Berkeley, Los Engeles, London 1997, Map 5. Argonavti: miticna preteklost Navporta in Emone POVZETEK V kratkem prispevku o argonavtih je najprej povzeta zgodba teh grških herojev (med njimi so bili poleg Jazona in vrste drugih, manj znanih ju­nakov – posadka jih je štela okoli 50 – še Herakles, Hilas, Orfej, oba Dio­skura, Ahilov oce Pelej in Tezej), ki so se pod vodstvom Jazona odpravili iskat zlato runo v daljno Kolhido, kjer bi morali najprej premagati zmaja, ki je cuval runo. Kralj Pelias iz tesalskega Jolka je namrec Jazona, ki je bil legitimni dedic tesalskega prestola, poslal opravit tako težko nalogo, da bi se ga za vselej znebil. Argonavti so s cudežno govoreco ladjo Argo srecno pripluli na cilj in opravili poslanstvo s pomocjo kraljeve hcere, ca­rovnice Medeje, ki jim je pomagala iz ljubezni do Jazona in je z njimi tudi zbežala. Za naš, jugovzhodnoalpski in severnojadranski prostor je pomemb­na legenda o vrnitvi argonavtov, ki jo je zapisal Apolonij z Rodosa. Od Crnega morja naj bi se vracali po Donavi in nato po Savi in Ljubljanici; ta pot odraža védenje o starih trgovskih poteh, ki so vodile cez Balkanski polotok v Italijo. Medtem ko so zgodnji grški geografi in zgodovinarji (npr. še Teopomp) napacno menili, da se Donava z enim krakom izliva v Jadran, pa enciklopedist Plinij Starejši to napacno predstavo kritizira in poudarja, da onkraj izvirov reke Navport (Ljubljanice) ni recne povezave do Jadrana. Argonavti so se znašli pred Alpami (po anticnem pojmovanju je bil prelaz pod Nanosom »najnižji del Alp«) in pri današnji Vrhniki usta­novili Navport, od koder so morali ladjo Argo prenesti do morja. Poznejši, poznoanticni avtorji Jazonu niso pripisovali ustanovitve Navporta, katere­ga pomen se je po obdobju julijsko-klavdijske dinastije v drugi polovici 2. stoletja po Kr. zelo zmanjšal, temvec ustanovitev Emone (Ljubljane), ki je bila tedaj na tem prostoru najpomembnejše mesto, zadnja italska kolonija pred mejo s Panonijo. Classical Mythology Anticni miti Back from Troy: Diomedes and Other Heroes in the Ancient Mediterranean MARIA CECILIA D’ERCOLE Homer’s epics and the cycles of legends connected with them can be con­sidered one of the main factors in the elaboration of the concept of space in the Ancient Mediterranean. Throughout history, these poems have held an importance for the Greeks that we cannot even begin to imagine. One of the first inscriptions known to us in the Greek language, dating from the third quarter of the 8th century BC and found on Ischia, a Euboean colony in the Bay of Naples, reveals specific knowledge of a passage from the Iliad.1 In the 6th century BC, Xenophanes of Kolophon wrote that Homer was the “teacher of Greece” from the most ancient times (ex arkhęs). Two centuries later, some particularly cultured Athenians were able to recite the two poems from memory.2 The education of generations of young Greeks, up to the Hellenistic era, was based quite simply on the study of the Iliad and the Odyssey, as the papyruses of Hellenistic Egypt show.3 These two works by Homer were augmented by a series of legends and minor narratives that are usually known collectively as nostoi: liter­ally, “the returns”. At the end of a long and bloody war in which victory had been secured only by deception, with an aftermath of violence and atrocious crimes, the Greeks were denied an uneventful return to their homelands.4 Many of them had to endure lengthy peregrinations in the 1 The inscription has been found in the grave of a child, who was very probably a member of an aristocratic family of the island. The author of the text knew certainly Homer’s description of Nestor’s cup, Iliad, XI, 632–637. On this pre­cious document, dating from about 730–720 BC, see Antonin Bartonek, Gior­gio Buchner, Die ältesten griechischen Inschriften von Pithecussai (2. Hälfte des VIII. bis 1. Hälfte des VII. Jhs.), Die Sprache 37, 1, 1995, 129–237; Annie Schnapp Gourbeillon, Aux origines de la Grčce (XIIIe–VIIIe sičcles avant no-tre čre). La génčse du politique, Paris 2002, 305–310. 2 Xenophon, Banquet,III,5–6,pointsoutthatthelearningofHomericpoemswas a fundamental element of a perfect aristocratic education in classical Athens. 3 Bernard Legras, Education et culture dans le monde grec. VIIIe sičcle av.J.­ C.–IVe sičcle ap.J.-C., Paris 1998, 13–14. 4 As the wise Nestor says in Odyssey, III, 129–134: “But when we had sacked the lofty city of Priam, and had gone away in our ships, and a god had scattered the Achaeans, then, even then, Zeus planned in his heart a woeful return for the Mediterranean, in the course of which they discovered new peoples and founded new cities and dynasties. In a certain sense, the return from Troy can be seen as the first great diaspora in the Mediterranean, touching first and foremost the shores of the Italian peninsula. The wanderings and ad­ventures of their returning heroes provided the Greeks with a geographi­cal image and a mental representation of the Western Mediterranean. In this sense, it is certainly possible to agree with Irad Malkin, who wrote: “History began with the return from Troy”.5 It even appears that this func­tion of the epic poems has persisted up to modern times. Homer’s works proved excellent travelling companions – for example, for British explor­ers setting out in the 18th century to discover and lay claim to the Pa­ cific Ocean. We know that Sydney Parkinson, a young draughtsman in Sir Joseph Banks’ expedition, took both the Iliad and the Odyssey in his baggage.6 This mythical “migration of heroes” preceded in some cases the historical colonisation of the Greeks in the Mediterranean, pioneered be­ tween the 8th and 6th centuries BC. Various figures from the Trojan cycle allegedly set foot on the coast of the Ionian Sea. One of them was Epeios, the mythical artisan who built the Trojan horse.7 Authors writing in the 4th and 3rd centuries BC narrated his arrival in a city called Lagaria or Gargaria, near Metapontium, on the Ionian Sea, where he dedicated his tools to Athena.8 According to Strabo, Metapontium itself was founded by a Greek people, the Pylians, under their leader Nestor, on his return from Troy, while another group of Nestor’s troops allegedly sailed up Argives, for in no wise prudent or just were all. Wherefore many of them met an evil fate through the fell wrath of the flashing-eyed goddess, the daughter of the mighty sire, for she caused strife between the two sons of Atreus”. (Au­gustus Taber Murray, Homer. The Odyssey, I, Cambridge, Mass., London 1960, 77–79). See also art. Kyklos-Nostoi, in: Pauly-Wissowa et al., Real-Encyclopä-die der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, XI, 2 (1922), 2422–2426. 5 Irad Malkin, The Returns of Odysseus. Colonization and Ethnicity, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London 1988, 3. 6 Bernard Smith, Greece and the European Colonization of the Pacific, in: Greek Colonists and Native Populations. Proceedings of the First Australian Con­gress of Classical Archaeology Held in Honour of Emeritus Professor A.D. Trendall, ed. J.-P. Descoeudres, Oxford 1990, 26–27 7 On the Epeios myth in the western Mediterranean, see Ettore Lepore, Alfon­so Mele, Pratiche rituali e culti eroici in Magna Grecia, in: Modi di contatto e processi di trasformazione nelle societŕ antiche, Cortona 1981, Pisa, Roma 1983, 890–893, and also Epéios et Philoctete en Italie. Données archéologiques et traditions légendaires, ed. J. de La Geničre (Cahiers du Centre Jean Bérard XVI), Naples, 1991. 8 Pseudo-Aristotle, On Marvellous Things Heard, 108 (Gargaria) and Lycophron, Alexandra, v. 930 (Lagaria). the Italic coast as far as the Tyrrhenian Sea and the mouth of the Arno, where they founded Pisa.9 Another hero of the Trojan saga linked to early Italic history is Philoctetes. Although Philoctetes is a minor figure in the Homeric epics, characterised with some of the negative attributes of the “anti-hero”, he was nonetheless a key figure in the final victory at Troy: he possessed the arrows of Heracles, without which the Greek army would not have subdued their enemy. In a Western version of the myth, following the fall of Troy, Philoctetes journeyed west to the coast of Calabria, and dedicated his weapons in the temple of Apollo Alaios. This version dates probably from the end of the 6th century BC, while, according to Homer, Philoctetes would instead be able to return peaceably in his Greek home­land, Thessaly.10 Another version of the legend makes explicit mention of foundation myths, involving Philoctetes in the Ionian Sea and Sicily.11 The collection of marvels written in 4th century BC and included in the Aristotelian corpus, tells us that when Philoctetes returned from Troy, he lived in the region of Croton and dedicated Heracles’ bow and arrows at the temple of Apollo.12 After his death during a fight against the natives, he was buried there, by the river Sybaris, and was honoured among the Sybarites. In the 3rd century BC Lycophron wrote that after the Trojan War Philoctetes journeyed up to the city Crimissa, in the country of the Oenotrians (Calabria); after his murder by native barbarians he was buried near the river Cratis, in the nearby sanctuary of Apollo Alaios, and there worshipped as a god.13 The Trojans, too, figure as protagonists in this westward migration quite as strongly as the Greeks. Besides Rome, the most famous Trojan foundation of all in the West – which we shall not deal with here, given the vast corpus of material on the subject – various cities and peoples laid claim to a descent from the Trojans. The historian Timaeus, the phi­losopher Aristotle and the geographer Strabo attributed a Trojan origin to Siris, an archaic colony in the Ionian Sea.14 Several other foundation myths involve Trojan fugitives along the entire Adriatic Sea. From at least the 5th century BC, when Sophocles wrote his tragedy The Antenorides, 9 Strabo, V, 2, 5 (foudation of Pisa); VI, 1, 14–15 (foundation of Metapontium). 10 Homer, Odyssey, III, 190. 11 Strabo, VI, 1, 3, who follows on this point Apollodorus’s Commentary on the Homeric Catalogue of Ships. According to his account, these Italian foundations are Petelia in Leucania, Crimissa on the coastland of Bruttium, and Chone, the principal city of the Chonians, the indigenous inhabitants of the interior of the promontory of Crimissa; he also founded Aegesta in Sicily. 12 Pseudo-Aristotle, On Marvellous Things Heard, 107. 13 Lycophron, Alexandra, 911–913, 919–929. 14 Strabo, VI, 1, 14; Timaeus of Tauromenion and Aristotle, in Athenaeus, The Deinosophists, XII, 523. the Veneti were seen as descendants of the Trojans, who arrived in the Adriatic, led by their prince Antenor. According to Strabo, Padua, too, was founded by Antenor.15 The Trojan origin of the Veneti was probably based on some lines of Homer’s Iliad, including the Heneti of Paphlago­nia, in the Trojan army.16 During the 5th century BC this oriental people was identified with the Adriatic Veneti, as is indicated by the tragedy of Sophocles.17 Although known in Republican Rome,18 the legend actually flourished in the age of Augustus, when both Virgil and Livy drew paral­lels between this episode and Aeneas’s foundation of Rome.19 Various factors lie behind the creation of these myths. In the first place, the nostoi constituted a poetic vehicle for imagining and describing those regions of the Mediterranean that were still unknown. Further, they served to justify the Greeks’ colonial conquest of the indigenous territo­ ries of Southern Italy in the 8th to 6th centuries BC. To give an example: far from invading foreign territory, the Achaeans of the Peloponnese who founded Metapontium in the second half of the 7th century BC claimed merely to be reclaiming land once occupied by Nestor and his compan­ions. Another important function was, finally, to legitimise the rivalry between neighbouring poleis. Once again, Metapontium provides a case in point. The legend of its foundation, immediately after the Trojan war, ensured Metapontium a more venerable origin than that of its rival Taras, founded by the Spartans only at the end of the 8th century BC.20 Another example is the rivalry between Croton and Sybaris in laying claim to the 15 The account of Antenor’s founding connection to the Veneti is related by Strabo, XIII, 1, 53: “(...) and Antenor himself survived because of the hospital­ity shown to Menelaüs at Antenor’s house”. Quoting Sophocles’ lost tragedy, Strabo writes that “at the capture of Troy (...) Antenor and his children safely escaped to Thrace with the survivors of the Heneti, and from there got across to the Adriatic Heneticę” (Horace Leonard Jones, The Geography of Strabo VI, Books XIII–XIV, London, Cambridge, Mass. 19704, 108–109). See also Mark van der Valk, Eustathii Commentarii ad Homeri Iliadem pertinentes, I, Leyden 1971, p. 637; Wagner, art. Antenor, in: Real-Encyclopädie, op. cit. (n. 4), I, 2 (1894), 2351–2353. 16 Homer, Iliad, II, 851–852: “and the Paphlagonians did Pylaemenes of the shaggy heart lead from the land of the Eneti, whence is the race of wild she-mules” (Au­gustin Taber Murray, Homer. The Iliad, I, London, New York 1924, 112–113). 17 See above, note 15. 18 For example, the source of Pliny, Natural History, III, 130, is Cato the Elder, writing in the first half of the 2nd century BC. 19 Virgil, Aeneid I, 242–253; Livy, Ab Urbe Condita I, 1, 1–3. On the role of the Trojan legend in the process of Romanization, see Mario Torelli, Tota Italia: Essays in the Cultural Formation of Roman Italy, Oxford 1999. 20 Irad Malkin, Myth and Territory in the Spartan Mediterranean, Cambridge 1994, 135. legend of Philoctetes at the end of the 6th century BC, which is also the period of the final conflict between these two Greek cities. The account of Pseudo-Aristotle clearly reveals this strategy to appropriate the saga of Philoctetes: “It is said that Philoctetes is honoured among the Sybarites. (...) They relate that he dedicated Heracles’ bow and arrows at the temple of Apollo the sea god. There they say that the Crotoniates during their supremacy dedicated them at the Apollonium in their own district. It is also said that when he died he was buried there by the river Sybaris, af­ter having helped the Rhodians (...) and joined battle with the barbarians, who dwelt in that part of the country”.21 In this instance, descent from Philoctetes was a guarantee of military success: the weapons of Heracles, which had ensured victory for the Greeks over the Trojans, were consid­ered a potent talisman.22 Among the many examples of legends deriving from the Trojan cycle that we could cite, the case of Diomedes appears particularly representa­tive. This hero is one of the most original and fully drawn characters in the Iliad, figuring in several episodes and occupying most of one entire canto:23 a renowned horse tamer,24 endowed with a powerful war cry and superhuman courage and ferocity.25 Diomedes is the only Greek hero to have not one but two homelands, for he was the son of Tydeus, king of Ar­gos, in the Peloponnese, but also the grandson of Oineus, king of Calydon, a celebrated city of Aetolia.26 Diomedes even dared attack the gods: in theIliad, Book V (1–144), he pursued and wounded Aphrodite,27 who had taken the field to defend her son Aeneas. The boldness of this exploit left its mark on the imagination 21 Ps.-Aristotle, 107 (W.S. Hett, Aristotle. Minor Works, London, Cambridge, Mass. 1936, 288–289). On the political stakes raised between Sybaris and Cro-ton over the appropriation of the legend of Philoctetes, see Maurizio Giangi­ulio, Filottete tra Sibari e Crotone. Osservazioni sulla tradizione letteraria, in: Epéios, op. cit. (n. 7), 37–53; Domenico Musti, Lo sviluppo del mito di Filottete, da Crotone a Sibari. Tradizioni achee e troiane in Magna Grecia, in: Epéios, op. cit. (n. 7), 21–35. 22 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 216. 23 Homer, Iliad, VI, 119–236 (Glaucus and Diomedes) and X, 150–579 (the cap­ ture of Rhesus’ horses). 24 See for example Homer, Iliad, IV, 366, V, 415 and 781. 25 Homer, Iliad, VI, 96–97: “in hope she may hold back from sacred Ilios the son of Tydaeus, that savage (agrios) spearman”. (Augustin Taber Murray, Homer. The Iliad, I, London, New York 1924, 268–269). 26 The Aetolian Tydeus became the king of Argos through marriage to the daugh­ ter of king Adrastus, Deipyle: see Apollodorus, The Library I, VII, 7–8; VII, 5–6. See also Wolf Aly, art. Tydeus, in: Real-Encyclopädie, op. cit. (n. 4), VII, A.2 (1948), 1702–1709. 27 Homer, Iliad, V, 1–144. of various painters of the second half of the 18th and the turn of the 19th centuries, especially in France: its rise and fortune provide an interesting example of change in the evaluation of classical culture. The subject was never exploited until the mid-18th century, for the goddess’s wounding was seen as a too audacious and indecorous matter for an artistic work: but from the mid-18th century to the first half of the following century, a long list of paintings and drawings appears – all showing with many variants the representation of the wounded Aphrodite being borne back to Olympus in a chariot driven by Iris.28 This event should probably be viewed as the consequence of a larger transformation in the appreciation of Antiquity.29 During that period ancient civilizations no longer appear as the equivalent of barbarian and ‘rude’ customs but as the symbols of a pure and not yet corrupted nature, contrasting with the contemporary decadence of cus­toms.30 This idea of a genuine ancient force and virtue explains Denys Di­ derot’s aims when describing a painting of Gabriel-François Doyen, shown in 1761 in the Parisian “Salon de Peinture”: “J’aurais élevé Diomčde sur un amas de cadavres. Le sang et coulé ŕ ses pieds. Terrible dans son aspect et dans son attitude, il eűt menacé la déesse de son javelot”.31 Diderot no doubt played a major part in this artistic revival of the classical past; the Count of Caylus was certainly another outstanding personality of this age. This protagonist of French culture of the 18th century selected a list of “tableaux” derived from the chief works of ancient epics, whose main pur­pose was to increase artists’ appreciation for the past by providing some subjects derived from ancient mythology that could be easily translated into images.32 For he was convinced that not all literary forms could be easily converted into images: the myth of Diomedes supplied him with a good example to prove his case. According to Caylus, Book X of the Iliad can hardly provide the material for a figurative work: although the action is extremely fascinating, it is impossible to draw it, since it takes 28 See Helge Siefert, Themen aus Homers Ilias in der franzsischen Kunst (1750– 1831), München 1988, 259–271. On previous representations of subjects inspired by the myth of Diomedes, see Jane Davidson Reid, The Oxford Guide to Clas­ sical Mythology in the Arts, 1300–1990s, I, New York, Oxford 1993, 347–348. 29 On the cultural background of this change, see Noemi Hepp, Homčre en France au XVIIe sičcle, Paris 1968; Christian Michel, Les peintures d’Herculanum et la Querelle des Anciens et des Modernes (1740–1760), Bulletin de la Société de l’Histoire de l’Art français, 1984, 105–117. 30 Siefert, op cit (n. 24), 8–15. 31 Denys Diderot, Essais sur la peinture. Salons de 1759, 1761, 1763, Paris 1984, 152. This oil painting of Gabriel-François Doyen (1726–1806), displayed in the exhibition of 1761, is now in the collections of the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg (see Siefert, op. cit. (n. 24), 260–261, n. 111). 32 A.C.P. de Caylus, Tableaux tirés de l’Iliade, de l’Odyssée et de l’Enéďde de Virgile avec des observations générales sur le Costume, Paris 1757. place in the darkness of night.33 Conversely, the scene of Venus wounded by Diomedes seems to him an excellent subject for painting: this is per­haps one of the reasons for the wide contemporary dissemination of that mythological theme. At all events, Caylus’s passion for Antiquity was un­questionably a fundamental link between past civilisation and the artistic creations of the end of the 18th and the turn of the 19th centuries. From the very beginning of the 19th century, the selection of pictorial (and, inciden­ tally, musical) subjects for the prestigious “Prix de Rome” was repeatedly inspired by ancient myths, and in particular by Homer’s epics. Moreover, it has been proved that Caylus had a great influence on Joseph Vien,34 who became Director of the French Academy in Rome in 1776 and was one of the key figures in French neoclassicism. One of Vien’s paintings is in­spired by Homer’s story of Aphrodite’s wounding by Diomedes,35 and the same subject appears in Caylus’s selection of Homeric “Tableaux”.36 It is time to return to ancient interpretations of the myth of Diomedes. In Homer’s account the hero finds his way back to Argos with no difficul­ty after just four days at sea.37 But other versions of the myth, dating back at least to the 7th century BC, tell of a much more troubled return. Once in Argos, Diomedes is said to have found that his wife, Aigialeia, had been unfaithful and plotted his downfall, inspired by the goddess Aphrodite in revenge for her ignominy on the battlefield.38 Diomedes thus found him­ self turned out of his homeland and deprived of his kingdom. He went 33 Caylus, op. cit. (n. 32), Tableaux tirés de l’Iliade, livre X: “Les détails de ce livre sont de la plus grande beauté quant ŕ la vivacité des descriptions; mais ils se passent dans la nuit. Il serait ridicule d’entr’prendre de les rendre par la peinture; elle ne peut exprimer que ce qu’elle voit”. On Caylus’s attitude, see Luca Giuliani, Bild nach Homer. Vom Nutzen und Nachteil der Lektüre für die Malerei, Freiburg 1998, 63–70, especially 66. On the personality of the comte de Caylus, see I. Aghion (ed.), Caylus, mécčne du roi. Collectionner les antiq­uités au XVIIIe sičcle, Paris 2002. 34 See Michel, op. cit. (n. 25), 115, quoting Charles-Nicolas Cochin (Mémoires inédits, Paris 1880, 67), a strong opponent of Caylus’s views: “M. Vien a gâté quelques compositions de tableaux par cette męme complaisance, et ce fut aussi M. de Caylus qui l’engagea dans ces compositions froides de figures ŕ la grecque”. 35 Siefert, op. cit. (n. 24), 267, n. 120: shown in Paris in 1775, this painting is now at Columbus (Ohio), in the collection of the Columbus Museum of Art. This work was created a short time after Vien’s departure from Rome and it fell short of David’s drawing on the same subject (Siefert, op. cit. (n. 24), 263, n. 112, now in Vienna, Albertina Museum). 36 Caylus, op. cit. (n. 32), Livre V, tableau IV, V, VI, VII. 37 As Nestor tells Telemachos in Odyssey, III, 180–184. 38 Mimnermos, Scholia ad Lycophr. Alex., 610 (Edoard Scheer, Lycophronis Alex­ andra. Volumen alterum Scholia continens, Berlin 1958, 206–207). off to Aetolia in order to restore his grandfather Oineus to the throne, in which, however, he was only partially successful.39 It was here that the hero assembled the company of Aetolian troops who were to be his faith­ful companions throughout his subsequent peregrinations. This, then, was the beginning of Diomedes’ Adriatic adventures. The first author to recount his exploits was Mimnermus of Kolophon, a poet who lived in Ionia in the 7th century BC. According to his account, when Diomedes arrived in Apulia with his companions, he aided the lo­cal king, Daunus, to defeat his enemies in exchange for a kingdom.40 But Daunus, who became the prototype of the treacherous barbarian, betrayed his promise and had the hapless hero killed:41 as in many similar legends, the plot ends with the dramatic act of a Greek hero’s murder by barbarian natives.42 This legend remained in circulation throughout the following centuries and acquired any number of variants and details. Following the assassination of Diomedes, his companions were turned into mysterious birds that inhabited the so-called Islands of Diomedes.43 Many ancient au­ thors relate that these prodigious creatures showed themselves hostile to passing barbarians but well disposed towards Greeks, in allusion to their own origins.44 Diomedes himself underwent a kind of metamorphosis, or indeed divine apotheosis: according to Ibycus, a poet living at Rhegion in the 6th century BC, Diomedes was worshipped as a god after his tragic death.45 Thus the ruthless warrior of the Iliad became a powerful god (the­ 39 Pausanias, Description of Greece, II, 25, 2. Apollodorus, The Library I, VII, 7–8; VII, 5–6; Hyginus, Fabulae 175, and Antoninus Liberalis, The Metamor­phoses 37, ascribe in contrast a positive outcome to this exploit of Diomedes. 40 See Dionysius of Halicarnassus, The Roman Antiquities XII, 14, 16, on Di-omedes, ally of king Daunus; some scholia in the Iliad relate the account of Diomedes’ murder in Iberia (sic) by Daunos or by his son Iunos (Gulielmus Dindorf, Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem 3, Oxford 1877, Schol. Ad Il. E (5) 412; Hartmut Erbse, Scholia Graeca in Homeri Iliadem (scholia vetera) I, Berlin 1969, 64–65. 41 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 237. 42 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 237, underlines the analogies of this story with the tra­ dition of Theseus’s murder by the Dolopians, and of the Cretan Minos by the Sicilian king Kokalos. 43 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 238, rightly speaks of “some kind of a bird apoikia”. 44 On the metamorphoses of Diomedes’ friends: Vergil, Aeneid XI, 271–274; Ovid, Metamorphoses XIV, 483–493. On their Greek nature and hostility against bar­barians: Aelian, On the animals I, 1; Pliny, Natural History X, 61 (126, quoting Iuba); St Augustine, de civitate Dei XLVIII, 16. Pomponius Mela, Chorography II, 7, 114, mentions the Diomedia among the islands of the Eastern Adriatic coast; see also Stephanus of Byzantion, Ethnika, art. Diomedeia. Malkin op. cit. (n. 2), 238, argues that this story was invented actually in the 4th century BC. 45 Scholia in Pind. Nem. X, 12 (A.B. Drachmann, ed., Scholia vetera in Pindari Carmina, II, Stuttgart, Leipzig 1997, 168 [1st edition Amsterdam 1966–1969]). os) who ruled, according to Lycophron, over “the vast sea of Ios”.46 His cult appears almost as compensation for the injustice he suffered at the hands of the barbarians on the Adriatic coast. Sanctuaries of Diomedes were scattered along this coast, their distribution probably reflecting the navi­gational routes used by Greek sailors in the Adriatic from the 6th century BC onwards. Thanks to the recent discoveries of Croatian archaeologists, we now know of a sanctuary in the Islands of Diomedes, on the island of Palagruža, and of the “Promontory of Diomedes”,47 at Cape Ploca, south of Šibenik. Other cult sites are known to us only from literary sources. Strabo records that a large sanctuary of Diomedes stood at the mouth of the Timavus, at the border of the lands of the Veneti and the Histrians, in the north of the Adriatic.48 Here, the cult of the hero was associated with that of Hera Argeia and Aetolian Artemis, goddesses evoking the dual origins of Diomedes.49 The cult of Diomedes was also celebrated among the Umbrians in the Central Adriatic.50 Diomedes himself allegedly made offerings in temples in Southern Italy, one in Apulia being dedicated to the Trojan Athena (brought over from Troy) and to Artemis.51 In the Adriatic Diomedes was not merely revered as a god: he was also, and above all, regarded as a civilising hero. Like so many other he­ roes of Greek mythology, Diomedes battled with monsters. At Corcyra (modern Corfu), he slew the famous Colchian dragon that guarded the Golden Fleece and laid waste to the neighbourhood.52 This particular he­roic deed was recorded in a statue, and the episode takes its place in the Adriatic appendix to the voyage of the Argonauts.53 Diomedes, frequently referred to by Homer as “tamer of horses”, was expert in everything to 46 Lycophron, Alexandra, ll. 630–632, close to Ibycus’ phrase. 47 Pliny, Natural History III, 141. 48 Strabo, V, 1, 9. 49 See Ettore Lepore, Artemis Laphria dall’Etolia al Veneto (A proposito di Strabone, V, 1, 9, C 215), Cahiers du Centre Jean Bérard 9, Naples 1984, 109– 113. 50 Pseudo-Skylax, Periplous, 16. 51 See Pseudo-Aristotle, 109, on the Daunian shrine of Athena, “called Achaean”, in which the arms of Diomedes are dedicated, and 110, on a temple of Artemis in the ancient Peucetia, where the Greek hero dedicated a bronze necklace with a legend inscribed “to Artemis”. 52 Timaeus of Tauromenium and Lycus of Rhegium, ap. schol. ad Lycophr. 615; (Felix Jacoby, Die Fragmente der Griechischen Historiker, Berlin 1923–1927, 566 F 53; 570 F 3); Heraclid. Pont. FHG 2, p. 220; F. Wehrli, Die Schule des Aristoteles: Herakleides Ponticus, Basel 1953, 102. 53 According to Jean Bérard, La colonisation grecque de l’Italie méridionale et de la Sicile dans l’Antiquité : histoire et légende, Paris 19572, 369, the monster killed by Diomedes was the Colchian serpent, guardian of the Golden Fleece. According to Apollodorus, The Library I, 9, 25, “the Colchians settled down do with this animal, a prime symbol of many aristocracies throughout the Mediterranean. This association is particularly evident in the territory of the Veneti, where the cult of Diomedes was associated with the sacrifice of horses.54 Moreover, the legend of Diomedes was often associated with urban settlement. A number of cities claimed to have been founded by the hero – above all, in Southern Italy and along the Adriatic coast.55 In one version of the myth, Rome itself is said to have been founded by the eponymous hero Rhomus, sent by Diomedes from Troy.56 And, lastly, Di- omedes was expert in new techniques designed to transform the land and landscape. Strabo speaks of a canal dug by the hero in Apulia to link the plain and the sea.57 At the same time, such powers and knowledge could be employed in a negative way: after the treachery of Daunus, for example, Diomedes ut­tered a curse that rendered the lands of that region permanently infertile.58 There are also allusions to supernatural powers in the legend of the magi­cal stones used by Diomedes as ballast in his ship. In reality, according to Lycophron, these were stones taken from the walls of Troy, built by Apollo and Poseidon.59 There is also a “political” dimension to the myth of Diomedes in the Adriatic. During the period of Syracusan expansion in the Adriatic, the tyrants of Syracuse identified themselves with the figure of Diomedes in order to legitimise their territorial claims in the Adriatic.60 This was prob- among the Pheacians”; see also Pausanias II, 3, 9; on the Adriatic saga of the Argonauts, see Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica, IV, 552 ff. 54 On the sacrifice of the Venetic horses, see Strabo, V, 1, 9, and Attilio Mastro­cinque, Santuari e divinitŕ dei Paleoveneti, Padova 1987, 79–85. 55 Virgil, Aeneid, XI, 246–247 on Argyrippa); Pliny, Natural History, III, 120 on Spina; Strabo, VI, 3, 9, whose source is Timaeus of Tauromenium, on Canusium and Argyrippa; Stephanus of Byzantium, art. Atria; Schol. ad Verg. Aen. 9, 246, on Venusia and Venafrum; Servius Grammaticus, commentary to Virgil, Aen. VIII, 9, on Aequus Tuticus and Beneventium (Georgius Thilo, Servii Gram-matici qui feruntur in Vergilii Carmina Commentarii II. Aeneidos librorum VI–XII Commentarii, Hildesheim 1961, 201). 56 Plutarch, Romulus, II, 1. 57 Strabo, VI, 3, 9; see also Ettore Lepore, Societŕ indigena e influenze esterne con particolare riguardo all’influenza greca, in: La civiltŕ dei Dauni nel quadro del mondo italico (Atti 13° Convegno di Studi Etruschi e Italici, Manfredonia 1980), Firenze 1984, 317–323; id., Diomede, in: L’epos greco in Occidente (Atti del XIX Convegno di Studi sulla Magna Grecia, Taranto 1979), Taranto 1980, 113–132. 58 Lycophron, Alexandra, 619–629. 59 Lycophron, Alexandra, 617. 60 Lorenzo Braccesi emphasizes this ideological and political use of the myth of Diomedes by the tyrants of Syracuse during the 4th century BC. See, for exam­ple: Lorenzo Braccesi, “Diomedes cum Gallis”, Hesperia 2, 1991, 89–102, and ably one of the reasons behind the founding of the cult of Diomedes at Cape Ploca, for this coincided with the Syracusan colonisation of Lissos ca. 402–401 BC. In those same years Dionysius I of Syracuse supported the foundation of Pharos, the Adriatic colony of Paros.61 Another crucial episode in the political renovation of the myth of Diomedes was the Italian expedition of Alexander the Molossian that ended with the latter’s death in 330 BC. In this instance, the reaffirmation of the myth of Diomedes served to legitimise the thirst for conquest of Alexander and his army of Aetolians,62 who originated from the same region as Diomedes and his companions. We might well wonder, at this point, whether the ancients really be­lieved in this myth – to paraphrase the title of a famous essay by Paul Veyne63 – and just how credible the cult of Diomedes and the political propaganda based on his legend were. Surely the answer is that the ancients did give credence to the myth: after all, during the war against Hannibal some of the aristocratic families in Arpi, a city founded by Diomedes in Apulia, claimed descent from the Greek hero as the reason for their resist­ance against Rome.64 The heirs of Diomedes against the heirs of Aeneas: the mythical duel was being re-enacted, this time without an Aphrodite to take the field and avert the dramatic end. In conclusion, the various aspects we have touched on surely bear out the statement that “every conceivable function of nostoi is attributable to Diomedes in Italy”.65 A true wandering hero, Diomedes appears in con­nection with space in movement rather than with territorial possession, with the Greeks’ itineraries rather than with their settlements. He seems to preside not over lands or city states but over sea routes, with their eddy­ing currents. A multiform figure, Diomedes was also a mediator between cultures that were not just different but fundamentally heterogeneous, em­bracing the Greeks from their various homelands and the barbarians from id., Hellenikos Kolpos. Supplemento a Grecitŕ adriatica (Hesperia 13), Roma 2001, 39–43 and 80–97. 61 See S. Bilic-Dujmušic, Excavations at Cape Ploca near Šibenik, Croatia, in: I Greci in Adriatico, 2 (Hesperěa 18), eds. L. Braccesi, M. Luni, Roma 2004, 123– 140. On the foundation of Lissos: Diodorus of Sicily, XV, 13, 4–5. For mod­ern discussion on Syracusian foundations in the Adriatic, see Pierre Cabanes, Histoire de l’Adriatique, Paris 2001, 56–61; Marjeta Šašel Kos, Appian and Illyricum (Situla 43), Ljubljana 2005, 234–235. 62 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 242–243; Maria Cecilia D’Ercole, La légende de Diomčde dans l’Adriatique préromaine, in: Les cultes polythéistes dans l’Adriatique ro­ maine, eds. Christiane Delplace, Francis Tassaux, Bordeaux 2000, 11–26. 63 Paul Veyne, Les Grecs ont-ils cru ŕ leurs mythes?, Paris 1983. 64 Silius Italicus, Hannib., XIII, 30, Appian, Hannib., 31: both relate the descent of the Dasii, an aristocratic family of Arpi, from Diomedes. 65 Malkin, op. cit. (n. 2), 254. different regions in the Adriatic. Indeed, it may have been his own double origin that made him particularly suited to fulfilling this role. A foreign king in Argos, he gained from his Aetolian descent the connotation of a mixed, and to some extent marginal, Greekness – part of a regional, northwestern cultural ensemble. Such complexity cannot be crystallised in a single phase or historical moment. Having arrived in the Adriatic from Greece in the 7th century BC, the legend of Diomedes found fertile ground and over the centuries accumulated a host of motives and allusions that ensured its success and longevity. This can be seen in the importance of many cult sites in the Adriatic, or the adoption of the Greek hero as their ancestor by indigenous gentes. More recent scholars, philosophers and artists were able to appropriate ancient legend and invent their own mythical character. Thus the legend of Diomedes came to be one of the many modes of narrating the migrations, cultural clashes, mixtures and new lineages which have given rise, down the centuries, to so many dif­ferent “Mediterraneans”. Nazaj iz Troje: Diomed in drugi heroji staroveškega Mediterana POVZETEK Številne grške legende, ki so zrasle okoli potovanj grških junakov iz Troje nazaj v domovino, prepolnih doživljajev, so predstavljale bogato epsko iz-rocilo, v katero so bile vkljucene, ne glede na velike medsebojne razdalje, razlicne sredozemske pokrajine. Ceprav so bili ti miti zgolj sad domišljije, so imeli vendarle zelo konkretne vplive in posledice na dojemanje zgodo-vine; prek njih so se povezala v mrežo izmišljenih sorodstev in nasledstev razlicna sredozemska ljudstva, ki so si bila tuja in dejansko niso imela nic skupnega. Primer Diomeda, ene najpomembnejših osebnosti Iliade, je v tem pogledu še posebej znacilen. Po padcu Troje je bil obsojen na težaven povratek domov, kajti med trojansko vojno je zagrešil hud zlocin proti bogovom – upal si je namrec raniti boginjo Afrodito. Moral je zapustiti svoje kraljestvo v Argu in je koncno dospel do jadranskih obal, kjer so prebivala Grkom nenaklonjena, celo sovražna ljudstva. Diomeda so ca-stili na obeh jadranskih obalah kot ustanovitelja mest in lokalnih dinastij. Legenda o Diomedu je nastala v arhajski dobi, s casom se je spreminjala, dopolnjevala in preživela v rimsko obdobje. V modernem veku, od konca 18. do prvih desetletij 19. stoletja, je lik Diomeda postal simbol tedanjega razumevanja anticne Grcije, ki so si jo predstavljali kot deželo pristnih prvinskih strasti. Avtorica je razclenila pomembne faze v tem mitu in poskusila razlo­žiti njegovo zgradbo, ki je glede na njegovo priljubljenost postajala vse kompleksnejša. V zgodovinski okvir je umestila eno od številnih legend, ki so vsaka posebej prispevale svoj delež k orisovanju in povezovanju po­krajin anticnega Sredozemlja. Mythologie und Grabarchitektur am Beispiel der römerzeitlichen Grabbauten in Noricum und Pannonien GABRIELLE KREMER Wenn man an der bildenden Kunst der griechisch-römischen Antike in West-undMitteleuropainteressiertist,sowirdmaninersterLiniezuden römerzeitlichenGrabdenkmälerngeführt.Siemacheneinenwesentlichen Teil der materiellen Hinterlassenschaft dieser Zeitspanne aus. Sie sind dabei eine besonders aufschlussreiche Quelle, denn die bildliche Aus­schmckung des eigenen Grabmals – oder desjenigen eines engen Ver­ wandten – warfür die Menschen von damals eine wirksame Möglichkeit, sich selbst darzustellen. Man könnte fast sagen, diese Monumente waren eine Art Kommunikationsmittel, denn die Fassaden erscheinen aufgereiht in den Gräberstraßen, entlang der Hauptstraßen direkt anschließend an die Siedlungen oder in unmittelbarer Nähe der Gutshöfe1. Nicht nur die Grabinschriften an den Frontseiten, sondern auch die Reliefs und Skulp­ turen sind für den vorbeiziehenden Betrachter geschaffen: sie vermitteln eine Botschaft. Wir erfahren also hier etwas über die lokale Gesellschaft, ber die Modestrungen, aber auch ber die gerade gltigen religisen und moralischen Werte2 – also Dinge, die fr die Antike in unseren Ge-genden kaum schriftlich berliefert sind. Für das Thema „Mythologie auf Grabdenkmälern“ bietet wiederum der norisch-pannonische Raum ein gnstiges Untersuchungsfeld, denn die großen Grabbauten aus Stein entstanden hier in der Mehrzahl der Fälle erst im 2. und 3. Jahrhundert n. Chr.3 Das ist eine Zeit, in der das r­mische Kunstschaffen besonders dekorations- und erzählfreudig war und 1 Siehe beispielsweisePaul Zanker – Henner von Hesberg (Hrsg.), Rmische Gräberstraßen. Selbstdarstellung – Status – Standard, München 1987; Marion Witteyer – Peter Fasold (Hrsg.), Des Lichtes beraubt. Totenehrung in der r­mischen Gräberstraße von Mainz-Weisenau, Ausstellungskatalog Frankfurt, Wiesbaden 1995. 2 Eine vergleichbare, wenn auch auf ein anderes Publikum abzielende Aussage-kraft besitzen die reich verzierten römischen Sarkophage: Robert Turcan, Mes­ sages d’outre-tombe. L’iconographie des sarcophages romains, Paris 1999. 3 Gabrielle Kremer, Antike Grabbauten in Noricum. Katalog und Auswertung von Werkstücken als Beitrag zur Rekonstruktion und Typologie, Sonderschrif- ten des Österreichischen Archäologischen Instituts 36, Wien 2001. in der überdies ein geändertes Verhältnis zum Tod spürbar wurde4. Vor allem aber kommen auf den norisch-pannonischen Grabbauten besonders häufig mythologische Themen zur Darstellung, während die in anderen römischen Provinzen so beliebten Alltags- und Berufsszenen eher in den Hintergrund treten. Diese Beobachtung wurde schon von Archäologen frherer Generationen gemacht5 und kann nach der erneuten Bestands­ aufnahme des norischen Materials nur bekräftigt werden. In den Donauprovinzen bietet ein beliebter Grabbautypus günstige Voraussetzungen für reichhaltigen Bilderschmuck, nämlich die Grabae­dicula6 (Abb. 1). Abbildung 1. Grabaedicula des C. Spectatius Priscianus und seiner Familie in Šempeter (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). Durch die für den Archäologen besonders glücklichen Fundumstän­de in Šempeter7 sind uns drei Grabbauten dieses Typs in voller Pracht 4 Zum Thema siehe beispielsweise Jocelyn M. C. Toynbee, Death and Burial in the Roman World, Ithaca, N. Y. 1971, 33–42; Thomas Pekáry, Mors perpetua est. Zum Jenseitsglauben in Rom, Laverna 5, 1994, 87–103. 5 Jocelyn M. C. Toynbee, Greek Myth in Roman Stone, Latomus 36, 1977, 343– 412. Vgl. Melanie Kempchen, Mythologische Themen in der Grabskulptur. Germania Inferior, Germania Superior, Gallia Belgica und Raetia, Mnster 1995. 6 Zur Definition s. Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 317–335. 7 Josip Klemenc – Vera Kolšek – Peter Petru, Anticne grobnice v Šempetru, erhalten geblieben, so dass wir nicht nur über den architektonischen Auf­bau solcher Monumente gut Bescheid wissen, sondern auch nahezu de­ren gesamtes Bilderprogramm vor Augen haben8. Dies ist ein einmaliger Glücksfall, besonders wenn man nach den inhaltlichen Zusammenhängen zwischen den einzelnen Reliefdarstellungen fragt. Außer der „Lesbarkeit“ des Bilderprogramms gewährleistet der gute Erhaltungszustand dieser Grabbauten aber auch die Bestimmung, Rekonstruktion und Interpreta­ tion unzähliger Einzelteile vergleichbarer, aber weniger gut erhaltener Denkmäler des norisch-pannonischen Raumes. Die architektonische Form der Grabaediculae geht auf den grie­ chischen Sakralbau zurück. Der Aufbau der einzelnen Architekturglieder – Basen, Säulen, Kapitelle, Giebel, Dachaufbau etc. – entspricht im We-sentlichen der Formensprache griechischer und hellenistischer Tempel9. Auch die Ornamente entstammen großteils dem Formenschatz des antiken Mittelmeerraumes: die Bauornamentik, etwa an Gesimsen und Kassetten­decken, ebenso wie die Dekormotive, so etwa die Medusa am Giebelfirst oder die antithetischen Greifenfiguren. All das kommt Jahrhunderte fr-her bereits in Griechenland, im hellenistischen Osten und in Italien vor10. In der römischen Kaiserzeit werden diese Bauformen und Motive wohl teilweise bereits als bewusste Rückgriffe verwendet. Besonders an den Grabmälern konnten die Architekturformen und Ornamente als Zitate frei kombiniert werden, denn diese Bauten kennen kaum funktionelle Sach­zwänge. Sie sollen vor allem als Denkmäler funktionieren und sie sind außerdem private Bauwerke, die keiner direkten öffentlichen Kontrolle unterliegen. Besonders die Sockelgeschosse der zweistöckigen Grabbauten in No-ricum und Pannonien bieten Platz für mythologische Reliefs, während die oberen Bauglieder im Falle der Grabaediculae hauptsächlich der Darstel-lung der Grabinhaber, und – im Fall der altarfrmigen Monumente auf der Vorderseite – der Grabinschrift vorbehalten sind. In Šempeter sind die reliefierten Sockel zugleich die Aschenkisten, in denen die Urnen der Ver­storbenen aufbewahrt wurden. Der Reliefschmuck bedeckt die Oberfläche des gesamten Grabbaus und ist in einzelne gerahmte Felder gegliedert. Die-se Feldergliederung entspricht am Sockelgeschoss in der Regel dem Fu- Ljubljana 1972; Vera Kolšek, Vzhodni del anticne nekropole v Šempetru, Ljubljana 1977; Vera Kolšek, Die Gräberfelder von Šempeter, Mitteilungen der Archäologischen Gesellschaft Graz 3/4, 1989/90, 137–143. 8 Siehe dazu Jože Kastelic, Simbolika mitov na rimskih nagrobnih spomenikih, Ljubljana 1998. 9 Henner von Hesberg, Rmische Grabbauten, Darmstadt 1992, 121–159. 10 Siehe zum Beispiel von Hesberg, op. cit. (Anm. 9); Janos Fedak, Monumental Tombs of the Hellenistic Age, Toronto 1990; Michael Eisner, Zur Typologie der Grabbauten im Suburbium Roms, Mainz 1986. genverlauf der einzelnen Blöcke, und sie unterstreicht auch deren statische Funktion – ein handwerkliches Charakteristikum unseres Raumes11 (Abb. 2). Die Tatsache, dass der gesamte Baukörper mit Bildfeldern überzogen ist, entspricht hingegen einer allgemeinen Modeströmung des späteren 2. und 3. Jahrhunderts und kann an zahlreichen anderen Denkmaltypen und in anderen Regionen des Römischen Reichs beobachtet werden12. Abbildung 2. Sockelgeschoss (Vorderseite) des Priscianusgrabmals in Šempeter (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). Aber sehen wir uns an, wie man mit den Bildern umgeht, d. h. in welcher Art und Weise die alten Themen der griechischen Mythologie an den Grabbauten der römischen Provinzen verwendet wurden. Im Falle des Priscianusgrabmals13 in Šempeter ist der Sockel in zwei waagerechteBildzonengegliedert,dieaufjederSeiteinjeweilsdreiFelder 11 Siehe zuletzt Gabrielle Kremer, in: Andreas Schmidt-Colinet (Hrsg.), Lokale Identitäten in Randgebieten des Rmischen Reiches, Akten des Internationalen Symposiums in Wiener Neustadt 2003, Wien 2004, 147–159. 12 Peter Kranz, Die Grabmonumente von Šempeter. Beobachtungen zur Ent­wicklung der Bildhauerkunst in Noricum während der mittleren und späten römischen Kaiserzeit, Bonner Jahrbücher 186, 1986, 193–239: 234f. Vgl. etwa Hélčne Walter, La porte Noire de Besançon, Paris 1986; Bernhard Numrich, Die Architektur der römischen Grabdenkmäler aus Neumagen, Trier 1997. 13 Die Benennung der rekonstruierten Grabbauten von Šempeter erfolgt hier nach unterteiltsind(Abb. 2). EsergibtsichsoeineSequenzvonneunFeldernin jeder Zone, die in einer bestimmten Reihenfolge zu lesen sind. Während das vordere Mittelfeld der oberen Zone der Grabinschrift vorbehalten ist, stellendieMittelfelderderunterenZonejeweilseineEpisodeausdemtro­janischen Sagenkreis dar14.Esgeht um Iphigenie, diefernihrerHeimat, in Tauris, Priesterin der Artemis ist. Ihr Bruder Orest, der nach dem Mord an seiner Mutter umherirrt, befolgt den Rat des Orakels von Delphi und kommtnachTauris,umdieStatuederArtemisnachGriechenlandzurück­zubringen. SeineSchwestererkenntihnnichtwiederundhätteihnfastauf dem Altar der Artemis geopfert. Dank der Hilfe seines Freundes Pylades wird Orest aber gerettet und die drei kehren zurück nach Griechenland. DieAnfangsszeneimMittelfeldderrechtenNebenseitezeigtIphigenieso­wie zwei Taurer, die Vorbereitungen zum Opfer treffen (Abb. 3). Im Mit­telfeldderVorderseitesehenwirdiebeidenFreundeOrestundPylades,die als MenschenopferfürArtemis bestimmtsind (Abb. 2). DasMittelfeld der linkenNebenseiteschließlichzeigtdieFluchtderIphigenie(Abb. 4). Abbildung 3. Unteres Mittel­feld an der rechten Nebenseite des Priscianusgrabmals: Vor­bereitung zum Opfer (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). In ähnlicher Weise dürften die meisten mehrfigurigen mytholo­gischen Szenen unseres Raumes auf Grabbauten angebracht gewesen sein, nämlich in den jeweils breiteren Mittelfeldern der Sockelgeschosse, den cognomina derGrabinhaber, um eine Verwechslung zwischen den beiden Grabbauten der Spectatier zu vermeiden. 14 Josip Klemenc, Beg Ifigenije s Tauride na Šempeterskem reliefu, Arheološki Vestnik 8, 1957, 26–31; Margherita Bonanno Aravantinos, in: Guntram Koch (Hrsg.), Grabeskunst der rmischen Kaiserzeit, Mainz 1993, 67–76; Sascha Priester, Mythenbild und Grabbau. Alkestis, Europa, Orest und die Bilderwelt der römischen Nekropole von Šempeter, Kölner Jahrbuch 31, 1998, 7–41: 26– 37; Kastelic, op. cit. (Anm. 8), 531–568. Abbildung 4. Unteres Mittelfeld an der linken Nebenseite des Priscia­nusgrabmals: Flucht der Iphigenie (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). die durchwegs an drei Seiten mit Reliefs versehen waren15. Als weitere Beispiele aus Šempeter seien die Szene mit Herakles und Alkestis auf der Sockelvorderseite des Vindoniusgrabmals16, der Raub der jugendlichen Knigstochter Europa durch Jupiter in Gestalt des Stieres auf der So-ckelvorderseite des Enniergrabmals17 oder die Entfhrung des Ganymed durch Jupiter in Gestalt des Adlers auf der rechten Nebenseite desselben Grabmals18 genannt. Auch das Relief in Maria Saal (wohl aus Virunum) mit einer berühmten Szene aus der Ilias – die Schleifung des Hektor durch Achill – gehört zu den bekannten Beispielen dieser Art19. Zu einem in zwei Teilen erhaltenen dreigliedrigen Sockelrelief im Schloss Seggau20 (wohl aus Flavia Solva) (Abb. 5) ist bisher keine Parallele bekannt und es hat verschiedene Deutungen erfahren21. Am plausibelsten erscheint die 15 Elisabeth Walde, Imherrlichen Glanze Roms. Die Bilderwelt der Rmersteine in Österreich, Innsbruck 2005, 96–154. Zu den mythologischen Reliefs in Nori-cum und Pannonien sind aus der älteren Literatur vor allem die zahlreichen Ar-beiten von Erna Diez und Gizella Erdélyi zu nennen. Eine Wiener Dissertation der 60er-Jahre fasste den damaligen Denkmälerbestand in Österreich zusam-men: Hemma Antonitsch, Mythologische Szenen auf provinzialrmischen Denkmälern in Österreich, ungedruckte Dissertation Wien 1961. – Zur Anbrin­gung im architektonischen Kontext siehe Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3). 16 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 47. 17 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 53. 18 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 66. 19 Gernot Piccottini, Die kultischen und mythologischen Reliefs des Stadtgebietes von Virunum, Corpus signorum imperii romani Österreich II 4, Wien 1984, 53 Nr. 359 Taf. 25; Gernot Piccottini, Die Rmer in Kärnten, Klagenfurt 1989, 266 Taf. 40. 20 Manfred Hainzmann – Erwin Pochmarski, Die rmerzeitlichen Inschriften und Reliefs von Schloss Seggau bei Leibnitz, Graz 1994, 26–31 Nr. 7A.B. 21 Unter anderem Peter Scherrer, in: Mihály Praznovszky (Hrsg.), Akten des 2. Interpretation von Tamás Gesztelyi, wonach es sich um Aeneas handelt, der mit seinem Sohn Abschied von seiner Frau Creusa nimmt, und dann Troja verlässt um in Italien eine neue Heimat zu gründen22. Ein Relief in Moosburg zeigt Perseus und Andromeda kurz vor deren Befreiung aus der Unterwelt23, und in Maria Saal befindet sich auch eines der seltenen Beispiele aus der römischen Mythologie, nämlich die römische Wölfin mit den Zwillingen Romulus und Remus24. Abbildung 5. Zeichnerische Rekonstruktion eines Grabreliefs in Schloss Se-ggau (Zeichnung: Gabrielle Kremer). Bei den genannten Reliefs kann man davon ausgehen, dass ein be- stimmter mythologischer Inhalt wiedergegeben werden sollte, dass man sozusagen„eineGeschichteerzählen“wollte.Besondersdeutlichwirddies indenFällen,wo–sowiebeimPriscianusgrabmalvonŠempeter–mehrere Sequenzen dieser Geschichte am Grabmal Platz fanden. Schöne Beispiele internationalen Kolloquiums über Probleme des provinzialrömischen Kunst­schaffens, Veszprém 1991, 153–160; Heimo Dolenz, in: Fritz Blakolmer – Karl Krierer – Fritz Krinzinger u. a. (Hrsg.), Fremde Zeiten II, Festschrift Jrgen Borchhardt, Wien 1996, 291–297. 22 Tamás Gesztelyi – Ortolf Harl, in: Titus A. S. M. Panhuysen (Hrsg.), Die Maas­ trichter Akten des 5. Internationalen Kolloquiums über das provinzialrömische Kunstschaffen, Maastricht 2001, 139–164. 23 Erna Diez, Perseus und Andromeda, Carinthia 144, 1954, 156–164; Piccottini, Reliefs, op. cit. (Anm. 19), 54 Nr. 360 Taf. 25; Piccottini, Rmer, op. cit. (Anm. 19), 268 Taf. 41. 24 Piccottini, Reliefs, op. cit. (Anm. 19), 55–56 Nr. 362 Taf. 26; Piccottini, Rmer, op. cit. (Anm. 19), 264 Taf. 39. dieser Art kennen wir beispielsweise unter den eingemauerten Reliefs in Schloss Seggau, welche die Taten des Herakles in mehreren Bildfeldern zeigen25. Der architektonische Typus dieses Monumentes ist unbekannt, da Struktur und Komposition der Bildfelder keine Parallelen unter den rekonstruierbaren Werkstücken norisch-pannonischer Grabarchitektur finden. Seine sepulkrale Bestimmung dürfte aber vor allem wegen der Thematik außer Zweifel stehen26. Außer aufdiesen mehrfigurigen,„erzählenden“ Reliefskommen my­thologischeGestaltenaufGrabbautenNoricumsundPannoniensaberauch noch in anderer Verwendung vor. Die Eckblöcke der vertikal dreigeteil­ten27 SockelgeschossezeigeninderRegelPendantdarstellungeninZweier-, Vierer-oder sogar Sechserzyklen28. Im Falle des Priscianusgrabmals sind dies aufden Nebenseiten derunteren Zonevier Figuren, die Elemente von Jahreszeitenpersonifikationenaufweisen29 (Abb.6)undinderoberenZone vier bewaffnete Jünglinge in heroischer Pose30. An der Vorderseite sind in denseitlichenFeldernjeweilszweiZweiergruppen,nämlichinderunteren Zone die zwei Dioskuren Castor und Pollux31 und in der oberen Zone je­weilseineSatyr-/Mänade-Gruppe32 zusehen(Abb. 2.7). Diese Figuren können nicht einem konkreten erzählenden Mythos zugewiesen werden, sondern sie entstammen vielmehr einem Standardre­pertoire, das die lokalen Bildhauer wohl aus Musterbüchern entnahmen33. Die häufigsten Darstellungen auf den Eckblöcken der Sockelgeschosse 25 Hainzmann – Pochmarski, op. cit. (Anm. 20), 176f. 218–223. 236f. 26 Vgl. einen ähnlichen Bilderzyklus aus einem Gräberfeld in Enns–Lauriacum: Lothar Eckhart, Die Skulpturen des Stadtgebietes von Lauriacum, Corpus si­ gnorum imperii romani Österreich III 2, Wien 1976, 51–53 Nr. 65–66. Zum Thema siehe Kempchen, op. cit. (Anm. 5), 33–64. 27 Bei nur wenigen Beispielen norischer Grabbauten konnte eine fünfteilige ver­tikale Gliederung der Sockelgeschosse beobachtet werden: Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 201–204. 28 Dazu Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 377–382. 29 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 35. 51. 55. 67; Kranz, op. cit. (Anm. 12), 208–211. 30 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 35. 42. 45; Elisabeth Walde, Zu den Jünglingsdarstellungen auf römischen Grabmälern in der Provinz No-ricum und benachbarten Gebieten, Bayerische Vorgeschichtsblätter 53, 1988, 293–300; Heimo Dolenz, Zu einem neuen Soldatengrabstein und dessen Fund-stelle am Decumanus maximus von Virunum, Carinthia 186, 1996, 151–192. 31 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 52; Kranz, op. cit. (Anm. 12), 204–208. 32 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 33. 41. 33 Dazu vgl. Kempchen, op. cit. (Anm. 5). Zuletzt Michael Donderer, Und es gab sie doch!, Antike Welt 36/2, 2005, 59–68. Abbildung 6. Pendantfiguren mit Elementen der Jahreszei­tenpersonifika­tionen Herbst und Winter an der rechten Nebenseite des Priscia­nusgrabmals (Foto: Gabriel­le Kremer). sind Figuren des dionysischen Thiasos, wie Mänaden und Satyrn34. Wie beliebig der vorhandene Typenkatalog solcher Pendantfiguren offenbar auf provinzialen Grabbauten dieser Zeitstellung verwendet wurde, macht beispielsweise die Satyr-/Mänade-Gruppe deutlich, die in Šempeter so-wohl an der Frontseite des Priscianusgrabmals (Abb. 7) als auch in fast exakt gleicher Form am Enniergrabmal vorkommt35. Gerade diese Regelmäßigkeit in der Verwendung der Figurentypen ermöglicht aber einen ikonographischen Vergleich, der einen wichtigen Anhaltspunkt zur Datierung der Denkmäler von Šempeter und verwandter Grabbauten in Noricum gibt. Da bestimmte Figurentypen, bzw. bestimm­te Veränderungen an bekannten Figurentypen auf den stadtrömischen Sarkophagen frühestens in der spätantoninisch-severischen Zeit auftre-ten, nimmt man an, dass die große Masse der entsprechenden Figuren 34 Margaretha Pochmarski-Nagele, Die dionysischen Reliefs in Noricum und ihre Vorbilder, Wien 1992. 35 Klemenc – Kolšek – Petru, op. cit. (Anm. 7), Abb. S. 31. 45. Vgl. auch ein wei­ teres entsprechendes Relief aus Virunum: Piccottini, Reliefs, op. cit. (Anm. 19), 33 Nr. 327 Taf. 14. Abbildung 7. Satyr-/Mänade-Gruppen an der Vorderseite des Priscianusgrab­mals (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). an den provinzialen Grabbauten nicht früher entstanden sein kann36. In den Werkstätten der Provinz wäre also das in den stadtrömischen Sar­kophagwerkstätten entworfene Figurenrepertoire samt seinen modebe­dingten Veränderungen übernommen worden, wenn auch in reduzierter Auswahl und Form. Peter Kranz konnte dies überzeugend am Beispiel der Jahreszeiten- und der Dioskurendarstellungen von Šempeter (Abb. 2 und 6) nachweisen. Das heißt aber nicht, dass die Bilderwelt auf den Monumenten der Donauprovinzen ihre direkten Vorbilder nur in der Sarkophagkunst der Stadt Rom fand, denn fr viele Figurentypen finden sich eben gerade kei­ne Vorbilder in Rom37. Es gab mit Sicherheit auch andere Vermittlungs­ wege, die zum Teil wohl über Mittel- oder Unteritalien führten oder direkt aus dem Osten kamen und wesentlich früher wirksam waren als die stadt­römischen Sarkophagwerkstätten38. Die ikonographische Analyse der mythologischen Szenen in den Mit­ 36 Kranz, op. cit. (Anm. 12); Pochmarski-Nagele, op. cit. (Anm. 34); Margaretha Pochmarski-Nagele, Zwei Mänadendarstellungen aus den Municipia Virunum und Teurnia, Carnuntum Jahrbuch 1988 (1989) 129–146. 37 Pochmarski-Nagele, op. cit. (Anm. 34); Antonitsch, op. cit. (Anm. 15); Katrin Winkler, Meerwesendarstellungen auf rmischen Grabmälern der Austria Ro­mana, ungedruckte Dissertation Innsbruck 1989. 38 Vgl. Pochmarski-Nagele, op. cit. (Anm. 34), 134. 144ff. – Über die starken und bisher wenig beachteten Beziehungen der (süd)norischen zur griechischen Kust siehe jetzt Walde, op. cit. (Anm. 15), 155–179. telfeldern der Sockelgeschosse von Šempeter durch Sascha Priester39 er- gab, dass die Bildhauer zwar auf bekannte Vorbilder zurückgriffen, dass in vielen Fällen aber die einzelnen Figuren abgeändert oder neu kombi­niert wurden. Ähnlich wie bei den Architekturformen handelt es sich also um eine Art spielerischen Umgangs mit traditionsreichen Versatzstücken, die den jeweiligen Erfordernissen angepasst wurden. Im Endergebnis wird durchaus auch ein lokales Element fassbar, dessen Originalität in der Auswahl und Zusammensetzung der rezipierten Formen besteht, das aber in Bezug auf die Mythologie für den norisch-pannonischen Raum noch nicht ausreichend erforscht ist. Aber welchen Sinngehalt haben nun die mythologischen Bilder auf den Grabbauten der Provinzen? Inwieweit ergibt sich für diese Darstellun-gen wirklich ein nachvollziehbarer Bezug zum Grabinhaber? Wurden die Themen bewusst ausgewählt oder handelt es sich bei den Reliefs mytho­logischen Inhalts lediglich um ein Standardrepertoire, das erstens in den Musterbüchern der Werkstätten zur Verfügung stand und dessen Repro­duktion zweitens „zum guten Ton“ gehörte, also nur sehr allgemein einen hohen Bildungsstandard, allenfalls ein kulturelles Traditionsbewusstsein und jedenfalls eine beachtliche Finanzkraft zur Schau stellen sollte?40 Einen wichtigen Hinweis gibt die bereits angesprochene Platzierung der Reliefs am Bau. Mit den Bauformen wurden wie gesagt auch verschie­dene Dekormotive aus der griechisch-hellenistischen Sakralarchitektur übernommen. Zu diesen traditionellen Dekormotiven zählen die bereits genannten apotropäischen Medusenköpfe und Maskendarstellungen, die häufig am oberen Abschluss von Grabaediculae oder -altären zu finden sind (Abb. 1), ebenso wie die Sphingen und Greifen, die als „Grabwäch­ter“ gelten41. Auch die beliebten Jagdfriese, die gern als trennende Ele­mente zwischen Sockel und Obergeschoss oder im Architravbereich an-gebracht sind, gehren in diese Kategorie der traditionellen Motive42. Das 39 Priester, op. cit. (Anm. 14), 14ff. 38. 40 Zu dieser in der Forschung bereits seit langem gestellten Frage siehe beispiels­ weise Franz Cumont, Recherches sur le symbolisme funéraire des Romains, Paris 1942; Toynbee, op. cit. (Anm. 5); Kempchen, op. cit. (Anm. 5), 134–140; Hanns Gabelmann, Tod und Apotheose in der römischen Grabkunst, in: Hans- Joachim Klimkeit (Hrsg.), Tod und Jenseits im Glauben der Völker, Wiesbaden 1978, 111–129; Walde, op. cit. (Anm. 15), 96–154. 41 Josip Klemenc, Die Greifenfiguren aus St. Peter in Savinjska dolina, Bonner Jahrbücher 158, 1958, 177–182; Erika Simon, Zur Bedeutung des Greifen in der Kunst der Kaiserzeit, Latomus 21, 1962, 749–780. 42 Monika Verzár-Bass, in: Maurizio Buora (Hrsg.), Lungo la via dell’Ambra. Ap­porti altoadriatici alla romanizzazione dei territori del Medio Danubio (1 sec. a. C.–1 sec. d. C.), Atti del Convegno di Studio Udine–Aquileia 1994, Udine 1996, 245–271. schöne Beispiel eines Kentaurenkampfes in St. Johann bei Herberstein43 (Abb. 8) stammt wohl von einem Grabbau und hat ebenfalls keine direkte sepulkralsymbolische Bedeutung. Abbildung 8. Fries mit Kentauromachie in Sankt Johann bei Herberstein (Foto: Gabrielle Kremer). Anders hingegen die vorhin besprochenen dionysischen Pendantfi­ guren (Abb. 2. 6. 7). In ihrer Vielzahl und ihrer rahmenden Anordnung bestimmen sie sehr stark den Gesamteindruck der Monumente. Sie bilden – zusammen mit den pflanzlichen Darstellungen – quasi die Hintergrund­musik, das Ambiente der gesamten Inszenierung, indem sie auf eine an-dere Welt verweisen, die Glück und Erlösung verspricht. Ganz allgemein sind sie Symbole der Hoffnung auf ein unbeschwertes Leben jenseits des Todes44 und eignen sich daher besonders gut zur Ausgestaltung von Grab-mälern. So gehören sie denn auch ab der Mitte des 2. Jahrhunderts n. Chr. zu den äußerst beliebten Themen auf römischen Sarkophagen45. Ihre An-ordnung am Grabbau lässt in manchen Fällen eine gewisse Regelmäßig­keit erkennen, die im Zusammenhang mit ihrer symbolischen Aussage-kraft gesehen werden kann46. Meist sind einander entsprechende Figuren oder Figurengruppen in gegengleichen Paaren zu beiden Seiten eines brei­teren Mittelreliefs angeordnet, so wie das bei den bereits genannten Sa-tyr-/Mänaden-Gruppen des Priscianus- und des Enniergrabmals der Fall ist (Abb. 2. 7). Zur axialsymmetrischen Ausrichtung der Figuren kommt in diesem Fall auch noch die Spiegelung von Vorder- und Rckenansicht (Abb. 7). Bei den tanzenden Figuren des dionysischen Thiasos reflektiert dieser spielerische Umgang mit Vorder- und Rckseite offenbar eine in-haltliche Aussage und kann auch eine dreidimensionale Entsprechung in 43 Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 194 Kat.Nr. II,74 Taf. 22. 44 Gabelmann, op. cit. (Anm. 40); Pochmarski-Nagele, op. cit. (Anm. 34); Martin P. Nilsson, The Dionysiac Mysteries of the Hellenistic and Roman Age, Lund 1957. 45 Guntram Koch – Hellmut Sichtermann, Rmische Sarkophage, München 1982; Friedrich Matz, Die dionysischen Sarkophage, Die antiken Sarkophagreliefs IV 1, Berlin 1975. 46 Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 377–382. der Platzierung am Bau haben. Besonders häufig finden sich nämlich die dionysischen Pendantfiguren nicht an der Frontseite sondern an den Ne-benseiten der Grabbausockel. So als würden sie den Übergang von einer Seite zur anderen markieren, ist die Schrittstellung dabei oft zur Rückseite des Monumentes hin ausgerichtet, während der zurückgewandte Kopf zur Vorderseite gedreht ist (Abb. 6 rechts). Während also die Frontseite des Grabbaues für die Lebenden bestimmt ist und auch die Grabinhaber zu ihren Lebzeiten präsentiert, scheinen die Figuren des dionysischen Thi­asos den Übergang ins Reich der Toten zu markieren, das an der für den Betrachter nicht sichtbaren Rückseite des Monumentes gedacht wird. Einen vergleichbaren Sinnzusammenhang ergeben wohl auch die häufig vorkommenden Meerwesenfriese, denn die Tritonen, Seekentauren und anderen Mischwesen galten ja als die Begleiter zur Insel der Seligen47. Auch im architektonischen Zusammenhang befinden sich diese Friese meist an einer Stelle des Übergangs – sie vermitteln sozusagen zwischen zwei vertikalen Ebenen. Im Falle des Priscianus- und des Enniergrabmals trennt ein Meerwesenfries jeweils das Sockel- vom Aediculageschoss (Abb. 2), im bildlichen Sinn also die Ebene der leiblichen, diesseitigen Überreste von der Ebene des Idealisierten, Jenseitigen. Eine inhaltliche Beziehung individueller Art zum Grabinhaber kann man bei den dionysischen Pendantfiguren und den Meerwesenfriesen je­doch kaum postulieren. Vielmehr haben wir versucht, eine Regelmäßig­keit und einen eventuellen Sinngehalt in der Positionierung am Bau bzw. im Zusammenspiel mit der architektonischen Form des Monumentes zu erkennen. Eine sinngemäße Anordnung der Reliefbilder im architektonischen Zusammenhang findet man schließlich bei einem anderen Aediculatypus, der besonders fr den norischen Limesbereich, Pannonien und Dakien cha­rakteristisch ist48 (Abb. 9). Diese Aediculae sind einfacher gestaltet als die vorhin gezeigten Grabbauten in Šempeter und besitzen im Obergeschoss eine aus drei Reliefplatten gebildete Reliefnische mit Giebelabschluss. Das Innere der Nische ist – wie immer – der Darstellung der Grabinhaber vor­behalten. Durch ihr Erscheinen innerhalb des Tempelchens präsentieren sie sich selbst bei diesen einfachen Grabmonumenten in heroisierter Form, indem sie bildlich gesprochen in die Nähe der Götter rücken. Die klas­ 47 Andreas Rumpf, DieMeerwesen auf den antiken Sarkophagreliefs, Die antiken Sarkophagreliefs V 1, Berlin 1939. Anders Josef Engemann, Untersuchungen zur Sepulkralsymbolik der späteren rmischen Kaiserzeit, Jahrbuch fr Antike und Christentum Ergänzungsband 2, Münster 1973, 60ff. 48 Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 105–108. 330–332. Ausführlicher dazu: Gabrielle Kremer, Grabbauten des Aediculatypus in Noricum, in: Akten des 6. interna­ tionalen Kolloquiums über Probleme des provinzialrömischen Kunstschaffens Budapest 1999, Budapest Régiségei 34, 2001, 163–176. sische Archäologie hat dafür den treffenden Ausdruck „Privatapotheose“ gefunden, ein Phänomen, das in der römischen Kaiserzeit besonders bei aufsteigenden Gesellschaftsschichten zu beobachten ist49. An den Seiten­wänden sind im Inneren der Aedicula häufig Personen oder Gegenstände aus dem täglichen Leben der Verstorbenen abgebildet50. Während also in der Nische der Grabinhaber und sein Umfeld im Mittelpunkt steht, führen die Reliefs der Außenseite häufig in die Welt der Mythen (Abb. 10). Man kann also auch hier eine Art transzendentaler Vorstellung erkennen: das Diesseits, dargestellt anhand der wichtigsten Statussymbole, das durch den Moment des Todes getrennt ist vom Jenseits, von der Vorstellung einer anderen, glücklicheren Welt. Abbildung 9. Schematische Rekonstruktions­ zeichnung einer Aedicula mit Reliefnische (Zeichnung: Gabrielle Kremer). Die wichtigste inhaltliche Aussage kommt aber sicherlich den my-thologischen Reliefs in den Mittelfeldern der Sockelgeschosse zu, wie wir bereits am Beispiel des Priscianusgrabmals gesehen haben (Abb. 2–4). Hier wird in der neueren Forschung immer wieder auf die Vielschichtig­keit der Darstellungen, auf die unterschiedlichen Bedeutungsebenen der Bildinhalte hingewiesen51. Bei Figuren wie Alkestis, Persephone, Endy­mion etc. liegt die sepulkralsymbolische Bedeutung als Allegorie auf Tod und Erlösung auf der Hand. So wie bei stadtrömischen Sarkophagen, wo die mythologischen Hauptfiguren sogar mit den Porträts der Verstorbenen 49 Henning Wrede, Consecratio in formam deorum, Mainz 1981; Gabelmann, op. cit. (Anm. 40). 50 Lucia Teposu Marinescu, Funerary Monuments in Dacia Superior and Dacia Porolissensis, British Archaeological Reports, International Series 128, Oxford 1982. 51 Priester, op. cit. (Anm. 14). Abbildung 10. Linke Seitenwand einer Aedicula mit Reliefnische aus Enns/Lauriacum: das Relief der Außenseite zeigt eine Mänade, das der Innenseite eine Dienerin. versehen sein konnten, identifizierten wohl auch die Grabinhaber in den Provinzen sich selbst oder ihre Familienmitglieder bis zu einem gewissen Grad mit den Helden des jeweiligen Mythos52. Sascha Priester konnte das etwa am Beispiel des Enniergrabmals sehr schön zeigen, indem er auf die Parallele zwischen dem frühen Tod der Tochter Kalendina und der Entfüh-rung der jungen Europa hinwies53. Die mythologischen Bilder in Šempeter illustrieren zugleich bestimmte Wertvorstellungen, die sich persönlich auf den oder die Bestatteten beziehen lassen. Im Fall des Vindoniusgrabmals würde der Alkestismythos die Treue des verstorbenen Ehepaars symboli­sieren, im Fall des Priscianusgrabmals würde die amicitia des Orest und des Pylades das Verhältnis der verstorbenen Familienmitglieder zueinan­der versinnbildlichen. Man kann wohl davon ausgehen, dass der oder die Auftraggeber hier eine bewusste Entscheidung getroffen haben. Aber darüber hinaus kommen auch Mythen zur Darstellung, die unglücklich enden und auf den ersten Blick weniger geeignet erscheinen als Ausdruck einer positiven Hoffnung. Oft lässt sich in der Auswahl des Mythos auch kein direkter Bezug zum Tod und den damit verbundenen Fragen erkennen. Hier sollte wohl eher ein gewisses Traditions- und Bil-dungsbewusstsein der Auftraggeber demonstriert werden, deren Kenntnis von Literatur und Mythen im provinzialen Umfeld sicherlich keine Selbst­verständlichkeit war. Damit verbunden war wohl auch ein Repräsenta­tionsbedürfnis, das speziell von der erfolgreichen und romfreundlichen Gesellschaftsschicht in den römischen Provinzen in Anspruch genommen wurde und das sich beispielsweise auch in der luxuriösen Ausstattung von privaten Wohnräumen in Städten und Gutshöfen äußert. Neben der archi­tektonischen Form der Grabbauten54, die auf das traditionelle Repertoire 52 Gabelmann, op. cit. (Anm. 40). 53 Priester, op. cit. (Anm. 14). 54 Zur Beziehung zwischen architektonischer Grabbauform und gesellschaftlicher des klassischen Mittelmeerraumes verweist, sind also die mythologischen Darstellungen ein weiterer Hinweis darauf, dass in diesen Fällen nicht eine oppositionelle Haltung zur römischen Kultur vorliegt, auch wenn sog. ein­heimische Elemente – besonders bei den Porträtdarstellungen – bewusst betont wurden55. Jedenfalls aber stehen diese erzählenden mythologischen Darstel­lungen in der einen oder anderen Weise in direktem Bezug zu den Auf­traggebern der Grabmonumente, und das macht sie auch fr den heutigen Betrachter noch so interessant. Stellung der Grabinhaber s. Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 3), 383–390. Ausführlicher dazu: Gabrielle Kremer, Grabbautypen in Noricum: Zur gesellschaftlichen Stellung der Grabinhaber, in: Fritz Blakolmer – Hubert D. Szemethy (Hrsg.), Akten des 8. Österreichischen Archäologentages Wien 1999 (2001) 197–209. 55 Kremer, op. cit. (Anm. 11). Mitologija in nagrobna arhitektura na primeru rimskih nagrobnih spomenikov v Noriku in Panoniji POVZETEK Rimskodobne grobnice so z raznih vidikov pomembne za študij anticne družbe in njenih posameznikov; ker so okrašene z raznovrstnimi upodo­bitvami, so eden najbolj nazornih virov za preucevanje rimske družbe, posebej v rimskih provincah, ki se redko pojavljajo v pisanih virih in kjer so ti nasploh redki. Avtorica po tematskih sklopih analizira mitološke scene in skupi­ne upodobitev na nagrobnih oltarjih, edikulah in drugih vecjih nagrobnih spomenikih iz Norika in Panonije. Srednjedonavske province so poleg Galije in Germanije tista obmocja v rimskem imperiju, kjer so tovrstne upodobitve najbolj razširjene. Na kratko so predstavljene mitološke teme, razložena je njihova pove­zava s sepulkralno umetnostjo in raziskane regionalne znacilnosti na teh upodobitvah. Avtorica posebej obravnava razlicne plasti dojemanja mitov na nagrobni arhitekturi in vrednoti njihovo mesto v kontekstu arhitekture. V tem smislu so grobnice iz Šempetra še posebej pomembne, saj služijo za model razumevanja in možne razlage reliefno okrašenih nagrobnih spo­menikov v celotni regiji. Ob tako zastavljeni problematiki išce avtorica odgovore na vpraša­nja o izrocilu in razumevanju sredozemskih mitov ter o njihovi družbeni umestitvi in relevantnosti v srednjedonavskih provincah. The Roman Necropolis in Šempeter: The History of Research IRENA LAZAR Twelve kilometres west of Celje lies Šempeter, well-known for having the finest preserved Roman monuments in Slovenia. This fertile valley attracted people even in prehistoric times, since the Amber Route (con­necting the Baltic regions rich in amber with the northern Adriatic mar­ket) passed that way. Prehistoric burial mounds are known in Griže and Šešce, while the prehistoric settlement connected with them is found in Langer.1 Prehistoric graves of the Hallstatt period were also discovered in Šempeter in the eastern part of the Roman necropolis, lying beneath the Roman graves.2 During the Roman period members of the civic aristocracy of Celeia owned estates in the valley and erected their tombs in Šempeter. The Ro­man settlement (vicus) was probably situated close by, next to the main road, but little is known of it. Roman remains have been recovered from the surroundings of Šempeter – e. g., from Zgornje Grušovlje, Podlog, Dobrteša vas, Novi Klošter and Gotovlje – but none of these sites has been systematically investigated.3 Nearby, there is also Locica pri Polzeli, where, at the end of the 2nd century AD, the second Italic legion was stationed.4 Along the valley ran the main Roman road Aquileia–Emona– Celeia–Poetovio, which was partly researched during the excavation of the eastern part of the Šempeter necropolis and by means of topographical surveys.5 In Šempeter itself, a few hundred metres west of the excavated necropolis (near the local railway station), modest late Roman graves and 1 Lojze Bolta, Najstarejša zgodovina Spodnje Savinjske doline, Savinjski zbornik 1, 1959, 103–113: 108. 2 Vera Kolšek, Vzhodni del anticne nekropole v Šempetru, Katalogi in monograf­ ije 14, Ljubljana 1977, 11, Pl. 30, 31. 3 Vera Kolšek, Savinjska dolina v rimski dobi, Savinjski zbornik 1, 1959, 118– 131. 4 Marjeta Šašel Kos, Zgodovinska podoba prostora med Akvilejo, Jadranom in Sirmijem pri Kasiju Dionu in Herodijanu (A Historical Outline of the Region between Aquileia, the Adriatic and Sirmium in Cassius Dio and Herodian), Ljubljana 1989, 243. 5 Darja Pirkmajer, Rimska cesta Emona–Celeia. Odsek itinerarske ceste Aqui­leia–Donava, Celjski zbornik 1985, 1985, 159–176:169. marble stelae from the 4th century were discovered, showing that the set­tlement remained inhabited after the great flood and devastation in the 3rdcentury.6 Administratively, Šempeter belonged to the urban region of Celeia (Municipium Claudium Celeia), which was part of the Roman prov­ince of Noricum, but from the reign of the Emperor Diocletian onwards it belonged to Noricum Mediterraneum. The Roman burial ground in Šempeter lay along the northern side of the road Emona (Ljubljana) – Atrans (Trojane) – Celeia (Celje), being bounded on the south side by the river Savinja. It stretched for over a kilo-metre, but because the present-day buildings stand close together, it has never been completely excavated. The necropolis was discovered purely by accident in 1952. While digging in the Wolf family’s orchard, a statue of a seated woman, a relief of a satyr with a nymph and some architectural elements were discovered. The Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts, under the direction of Prof. Josip Klemenc, took charge of the excavations in June of that year, together with colleagues from the Celje Regional Mu­seum and the Department of Archaeology at the University of Ljubljana. These investigations continued up to 1956.7 During the period of the excavations the team researched a surface area of 2500 m2 and discovered 604 stone pieces or fragments thereof, primarily made of white marble. The area of the former course of the Sa­vinja, a river bed filled with gravel, was investigated, since parts of the collapsed tombs lay there. The bottom of the river bed was reached at a depth of 4 m from the ground surface at that time, and profiles showed that the Savinja made a small bend in this area. The surrounding region was precisely delimited by the excavators with trial trenches, and the boundary of the excavation was determined in the north and west by reference to the remains of the enclosure of the grave plots that demarcated the necropolis itself. The archaeological team entered the pieces discovered on a grid in order to link the individual parts more easily.8 It soon became apparent that certain tombs were capable of recon­struction, so a special team made plaster casts of each discovered piece on a scale of 1:10. Particular attention was given to the various holes and incisions, since these provided the best indications for fitting together in­dividual parts or elements of a tomb. The most important of these were (i) the lifting holes, which were generally rectangular, chiselled conically and placed in the pivotal area of the block, (ii) the dowel holes for linking the blocks in the vertical plane, located on the bedding and resting surfaces 6 Vera Kolšek, Rimskanekropola v Šempetru – Vodnik / Römische Nekropole im Šempeter – Führer, Celje 1997, 8. 7 Josip Klemenc, Vera Kolšek, Peter Petru, Anticne grobnice v Šempetru, Kata- logi in monografije 9, Ljubljana 1972. 8 Klemenc, Kolšek, Petru, op. cit. (n. 7), 10. (iron dowels were put into them, and the narrow channels were then filled with lead), and (iii) the cramp holes on the bedding surfaces, which made a horizontal connection with the iron cramps. All the existing holes were reused in the reconstruction. Another important indicator was the position of pry-holes – smaller grooves or lines that marked out the place for the next block. The surface of these areas was usually polished, whereas the rest was rough and untreated. When the excavations were concluded in 1956, there followed several years of intensive work as attempts were made to reconstruct the monu­ments. The Vindonii tomb was almost completely reconstructed even dur­ing the period of excavation, and by 1958 Vera Kolšek and Peter Petru had presented a proposal for the complete reconstruction of the Ennii, Spec-tatii and Spectatius Secundinus tombs. Reconstructive work commenced in the spring of 1959. In addition to correctly assembling the elements, the reconstruc­tive work demanded the addition of some missing components that were important for stability of the re-erected tombs. Since it was decided that only the same material could suitably complement the monuments, it was necessary to obtain sufficient quantities of white Pohorje marble. Five stonemasons hewed out and prepared the complementary parts. This work was demanding, since in some cases very large pieces had to be substi­tuted – e.g., the front right-hand part of the canopy of the Spectatii tomb, or the supporting column for the canopy of the same tomb. During the reconstruction itself considerable work was occasioned by smaller dam­aged parts and cracks in the monuments that needed to be repaired with appropriate marble fragments. The stonecutting work lasted almost five months; then followed the assembly and erection of the tombs. By August 1959 the monuments had been erected and prepared for visitors in the park. Only the foundations of the Spectatii tomb today occu­ py the original site of its discovery, while the four reconstructed tombs and other monuments have been arranged in an aesthetically pleasing manner over the green area. Besides the four reconstructions, it is worth men­tioning the large elements of unreconstructed tombs, the small ossuary of local limestone with carved figures of the deceased on the top and the tombstone of Statutius Secundianus, where the relief under the inscription represents preparations for the funeral feast. In 1964 systematic archaeological excavations of the eastern part of the Šempeter necropolis commenced. Remains of this were first chanced upon when a gravel pit for renewing the Celje–Šempeter road was dug, back in 1947. The profile revealed remains of Roman walls, tiny artefacts and remains of cremations. In 1963 the team began to fill in the gravel pit and again came upon a large complex of walls and a layer indicating Roman culture. This find gave rise to systematic archaeological research over the entire area. Excavations by the Celje Regional Museum under the leadership of V. Kolšek in 1964–65 and 1967 uncovered another part of the Šempeter necropolis with 96 graves and a Roman road.9 The graves and tombs were arranged close to one another in a direction pointing towards the reconstructed tombs in the village. Examination of the grave plots revealed that some have a constructed central grave, the inner walls of which were plastered in some places. The other graves within grave plots are simply dug into the ground and cov­ered with a paving of small river pebbles. Remains of such paving have been discovered on several grave plots and also between individual graves – which indicates that the burial ground as a whole was paved with stones. The remains of funerary monuments are preserved only in their founda­tions, which differ in form and size. The rectangular foundations are shal­low and rather poorly constructed (e.g., nos. 38, 40, 41–45), but the foun­dations of more massive type are stronger and reach 60 cm to 100 cm in depth (e.g., nos. 59–63, 67–69).10 Monuments once stood on these marble and sandstone blocks; only a few remains of the funerary architecture are preserved: fragments of sandstone roof ridges, part of the moulded cover of a socle and the corner of a slab with a moulded frame. In addition to some of the foundations, the enclosure of the grave plot is also preserved, and on the surface between the foundation and the en­closure there lie some simpler grave pits of irregular shape. Some have the wall of the grave lined with stones and reach a depth of 120 cm. In these graves the original contents are preserved intact, except where robbery has occurred in ancient times. The most poorly preserved are simple graves shallowly dug out and lacking a grave construction. In most instances, the cremated remains were scattered over the bottom of the grave pit; only in three graves was a burial urn used. One particular feature of the Šempeter burial ground is the skeleton graves of newborn babies (graves 25, 50, 55, 56, 87).11 Here, the child was simply laid in a rough pit and covered with a clay lid; a vessel was added to the grave in only one instance. In two places there were found remains of a funeral pyre (ustrina) as well as the graves – here the dead were cremated. This was a shallow oval pit right beside the grave, about 1.5 m long, full of cremated remains and broken ceramic pieces.12 Remains of shattered vessels lay partly on the pyre with some fragments in the grave pit. South of the burial ground the Roman road Emona–Celeia was dis­covered; it ran along the entire length of the necropolis. The road surface 9 Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 2). 10 Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 2), 10, Pl. 22. 11 Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 2), 10, Pl. 23. 12 Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 2), 11, Pl. 6, 7. was poorly preserved; it measured 6 m in width, or 9 m together with the roadside ditches. The ground on the south side of the road was investigated via trial trenches.13 It was established that the burial ground did not extend south of the road (i.e., on the side of the river Savinja). Thus the cemetery was separated from the Savinja only by the road, and during the floods in the second half of the 3rd century (c. 267 AD),14 which affected the whole Savinja valley together with Celeia, the Šempeter necropolis, too, was destroyed. The swollen river tore away much of its own banks and of the road. The monuments that stood closest to the river bed fell into it and were preserved, since they were covered by the river’s gravel, but the other blocks and fragments ended up, as time went on, as building material. THE VINDONII TOMB This tomb is made up of 12 pieces and is 4.60 m high. The lowest tier of the tomb comprises two blocks and is partly sunk in the ground. The second tier, formed from a single piece, makes up the base of the socle and has a truncated upper edge on all sides. The central part is raised and roughly worked, while the area with the reliefs is polished. The covering slab over the socle has a moulding on three sides; at the back the moulding is faintly visible. The Vindonii tomb, designed as a funerary ara, is one of the oldest monuments in Šempeter (Fig. 1). The socle stands on a simple stepped pedestal and preserves the ashes of the deceased and the grave goods. The front is adorned with a relief of Heracles leading Alcestis back from the underworld. Heracles walks in front, a lion skin hanging over his arm, and leans on a cudgel. Alcestis is dressed in a long chiton, with a cloak over it that also covers her head. This central relief is framed by a decoration with a kantharos, birds and ivy. The two side reliefs on the socle represent hunt­ers. The left one wears a short tunic and carries a hare around his neck. The one on the right is naked, with a shepherd’s crook and a basket with birds on his shoulder and two dead birds in his left hand. The socle is covered by a moulded block that bears another slab marked with the abbreviation D M (Dis Manibus – to the divine manes, the souls of the dead). The upper part of the tomb is the altar. This carries, on the front, an inscription declaring that Gaius Vindonius Successus, the aedile of Claudia Celeia, set up the monument to himself and his wife Iulia, daughter of Sextus, a most faithful wife who died when she was fifty. The 13 Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 2), 10, Appendix 1; Kolšek, op. cit. (n. 6), 9, Fig. 2. 14 Vera Kolšek, Dva miljnika iz Celja, Arheološki vestnik 11–12, 1961, 147–152: 151. two reliefs on the sides represent a servant and maidservant. The scribe holds a writing tablet in his hands, and a cylinder for writ­ten scrolls lies at his feet. The maidservant holds a jewellery cas­ket in her hands. The monument is finished off at the top with a slab whose edges have two bound up coils with frontal rosettes. The crowning motif is missing on the top of the ara; this was pos­sibly a container or a gryphon. Gaius Vindonius performed the func­tion of an aedile (an administrator of public buildings) in Celeia. According to an analy­ sis made by J. Šašel, he was the first or one of the first aediles in the city after the province of Noricum was founded and the municipium (muncip­ium Claudium Celeia) was established, ca. AD 45.15 However, more recent findings place the monument in the late Flavian or early Trajan period – i.e., at the end of the 1st, or the beginning of the 2nd, century.16 THE ENNII TOMB The family tomb of the Ennii is composed of 22 stones and is 5.60 m high. It is built in the form of a chapel (aedicula) and is probably the finest mon­ument in Šempeter. The socle is adorned with rich, beautifully worked re­liefs (Fig. 2). The one in front represents Europa being carried off across the 15 Jaroslav Šašel, C. Vindonius Successus, Živa antika 5, 1955, 127–139: (= Opera Selecta, Ljubljana 1992, 44–53). Jože Kastelic, Simbolika mitov na rimskih nagrobnih spomenikih. Šempeter v Savinjski dolini, Ljubljana 1998, 222. sea by Jupiter, changed into the form of a bull. A dolphin is carved above the waves, while the maiden’s veil floats in the wind. The bor­ders on the sides are decorated with a kan­tharos, a vine and grapes. The right side of the socle has a relief of Ganymedes, car­ried off by Jupiter in the form of an eagle, while the left side has the motif of a satyr and nymph, who symbol­ize the continuation of life after death. The top of the so-cle bears a carved in­scription in the tabula ansata. The tomb was erected by Quintus En-nius Liberalis and En-nia Oppidana in memo­ry of themselves and their seventeen-year-old daughter Calendina, probably on the occasion of her death. Later, the name of their son Vitulus, who died at the age of thirty, was added. The portraits of the first three family members are sculptured in the reliefs beneath the canopy. The father, dressed in a tunic and toga, holds a document in his hands. The mother is clad in Celtic costume, with a cloak over her dress. Her jewellery is rich, comprising a pearl necklace, a neck-band with a half-moon pendant, a small chain on her breast and two fibulas fastening her dress. She holds a handkerchief in her hand, and her head is covered with a Noricum-style head-dress. Calendina, who is sculpted in a niche with a triangular pediment, stands between two genii, with spent torches in their hands. The ceiling of the tomb is adorned with coffers filled with rosettes, while the ridge of the double-eaved roof ends in a head of Medusa. Judging by the inscription, the Ennii in Celeia did not exercise any noteworthy political function, and it is not possible to date the monument accurately. Calendina’s hair-style imitates that of the Empress Faustina the Elder, the wife of the Emperor Antoninus Pius (138–161). On the basis of the style of the reliefs, the monument can be dated to the early Antonine period, before Marcus Aurelius (161);17 but some authors ascribe it to the subsequent period.18 THE TOMBOF THE SPECTATII The family tomb of the Spectatii is the largest of the reconstructed monu­ ments, since it stands 8.25 m high. The richly adorned socle, divided by a narrow frieze into two parts, stands on a moulded base with steps. The reliefs on the lower side from right to left tell the story of Iphigenia, the first one depicting the scene in Aulis. Ar­temis blesses the sacrifice: a hind is to be slaughtered instead of the maiden. The central scene on the front of the socle represents Iphigenia’s brother Orestes with his friend Pylades by the altar at Tauris. The tale is completed by a relief showing the flight of Iphi­genia, Orestes and Pylades from Tau-ris. The corner reliefs portraying the Seasons (autumn and winter on the right, spring and summer on the left; Fig. 3) and the twins Castor and Pol­lux complete the rich decoration of the socle. Above the narrow frieze, which displays the animal scene plus two Gorgons and a Silenus in medal­lions, is placed a slab with an inscrip­tion identifying the owners of the Fig. 3. The tomb of the Spectatii: the relief of a young man with a sickle and a basket with ears of corn represents summer (Photo: Viktor Berk). 17 Kastelic, op. cit. (n. 16), 223. ErwinPochmarski,ÜberlegungenzumEnniermonumentinŠempeter,in:Akten des 4. int. Koll. über Probleme des provinzialröm. Kunstschaffens (Celje 8. – 12. Mai1995),ed. B. Djuric,I. Lazar, Situla36,Ljubljana1997,197–206:206. tomb. Gaius Spectatius Finitus erected the tomb for himself and for his son Gaius Spectatius Priscianus. The two were “mayors” (duoviri) in Celeia. Part of the inscription is missing; this probably mentions the wife of Fini­tus. The reliefs to the right and left of the inscription represent a satyr and nymph, while the two outer sides show scenes of sportive games and reliefs of heroes. Atop the socle lies a moulded slab. A second inscription, carved later above the moulded slab, mentions Septimia Iusta, the wife of Spectatius Priscianus. The upper part of the tomb contains statues of the three deceased family members below the canopy roof, which is supported in front by two columns. The head of Medusa, which guards the resting-place of the dead, graces the front of the tomb roof. On the basis of the stylistic character of the reliefs and the details of the clothing on the statues of the deceased, the tomb belongs to the period of Septimius Severus (193–211).19 THE TOMB OF SPECTATIUS SECUNDINUS The tomb of Spectatius Secundinus is composed of 24 elements and stands 4.80 m high. It is one of the latest monuments in Šempeter, and is also constructed in the form of a chapel (aedicula). It differs from the other monuments in its form, and its decoration, in particular, is more modest. On the stepped base stand fairly high walls with columns at their corners. The tomb was erected by C. Spectatius Secundinus during his lifetime, in memory of himself, his wife Tutoria Avita, his son Spectatius Cervius, his nephew Rusticius Tutorius and his son Rusticius Albinus. The portraits above the inscription probably represent the married couple and their 12-year-old nephew. Since only half of the depiction has been preserved, the presence of a portrait of the husband on the right can only be inferred. The inscription is imperfectly engraved, while mistakes appear in orthography. The names of some of the family members were engraved later, as is indicated by the different style of lettering and the position of the inscriptions. On the left pilaster there is an axe (ascia). In the Roman world this implement had a symbolic meaning that was particularly widespread among the Celts. The ascia symbolized the ritual commencement of dig­ging a tomb, while at the same time it ‘defended’ the tomb against the 19 Erwin Pochmarski,Die Grabstatuen im Spectatiermonument in Šempeter, in: Corolla memoriae Walter Modrijan dedicata, Hrsg. M. Hainzmann, Mit­teilungen der Archäologischen Gesellschaft Steiermark, Beiheft 2, Graz 1997, 79–102; Margareta Pochmarski-Nagele, Die Dyonisischen Reliefs in Noricum und ihre Vorbilder, Dissertationen der Universität Wien 228, Wien, 1992. unauthorised later burial of an unknown person in it. The axe also served the preparations for a funeral in several functional ways, being used to dig the pit for the grave and to cut the wood used for the pyre and for the stonemasons’ production of the tombstone. On the right-hand side, the wall between the two pilasters is framed with leaved capitals, but the area left for the relief is void. The monument probably dates from the late Severan period (the rule of Severus Alexan­der) or from the time of the first military emperors – i.e., from the first half of the third century.20 The Šempeter tombs constitute some of the finest preserved Roman monuments in Slovenia and even in Central Europe as a whole (Fig. 4). Their reconstruction and re-erection aroused wide interest right from the start, and has posed numerous questions and challenges connected, on one hand, with the iconography and the dating of the monuments and, on the other, with the reconstruction itself. Fig. 4. Šempeter necropolis, view of the park (Photo: Tomaž Lauko). In the first, multi-authored publication concerning the Šempeter monuments21 the course of the reconstruction was described in detail by V. Kolšek, while in 1995, at a conference held in Celje, she once again substantiated and explained the reconstruction of the Ennii tomb.22 The 20 Kastelic, op. cit. (n. 16), 224. 21 Klemenc, Kolšek, Petru, op. cit. (n. 7). 22 Vera Kolšek, Die Rekonstruktion des Ennier-Grabmonuments in Šempeter im Šempeter tombs were also included by G. Kremer in her work on the fu­nerary architecture of Noricum monuments, where she proposed a recon­struction of the large tomb with arcade decoration.23 The final contribution so far to the reconstruction of these tombs was made by A. Maver in her diploma dissertation, again regarding the form of the so-called Arcade Tomb.24 Subsequent to the first publication, the dating of the monuments was revised fundamentally several times, especially on the basis of their icono- graphic characteristics and individual details. H. Gabelmann led the way by proposing a new dating for the tomb of Spectatius Secundinus;25 W. K. Kovacsovics followed, in respect of the Ennii and Spectatii tombs;26 finally, P. Kranz, in his study of 1986, corrected the dating of all four re- erected tombs on the basis of a stylistic analysis of their reliefs. In accord­ ance with the stylistic features of the reliefs showing the Seasons and the Dioscuri, he placed the Spectatii tomb in the Severan period.27 Some years later, he strengthened these conclusions further by making a study of the models of the southern Noricum stone-cutting workshops and the influ­ences on them, which led him to believe that most of the southern Noricum funerary monuments and some of the Šempeter ones can date only from the period following the Marcomannic Wars.28 New studies of the problems relating to the Šempeter monuments were more recently presented at the 4th international conference on the problems of Roman provincial art held in Celje. Papers dealing with the iconographic and stylistic features of the reliefs, the problems of dating and the reconstruction of the monuments are collected in the proceedings, which were published in 1997.29 Mention should also be made of the work of B. Djuric on the trade in marble in the Eastern Alps, where Celeia is mentioned as one of the centres for the trade in white marble along the Savinjatal, in: Akten, op. cit. (n. 18), 135–140. 23 Gabrielle Kremer, Antike Grabbauten in Noricum, Österreichisches Archäolo­gisches Institut, Sonderschriften Band 36, Wien 2001, 91–97. 24 Andreja Maver, The Arcade Tomb in Šempeter, Slovenia – an attempt at a re­construction, Arheološki vestnik 55, 2004, 343–414. 25 Hans Gabelmann, Römische Grabbauten in Italien und der Nordprovinzen, in: Festschrift F. Brommer, Mainz, 1977, 101–109. 26 Wilfried K. Kovacsovics, Rmische Grabdenkmäler, Salzburg, 1983. 27 Peter Kranz, Die Grabmonumente von Šempeter. Beobachtungen zur Entwick- lung der Bildniskunst in Noricum während der mittleren und späten römischen Kaiserzeit, Bonner Jahrbuch 186, 1986, 193–220: 204. 28 Peter Kranz, Überlegungen zur Herkunft südnorischer Bildhauerwerkstätten, in: Akten, op. cit. (n. 18), 141–149. 29 Akten, op. cit. (n. 18). Sava and Savinja rivers,30 a claim supported by the richness and quality of the marble monuments in Šempeter and Celeia. In her work on the Dionysian reliefs in the Noricum region M. Poch-marski-Nagele paid fresh attention to the motifs on the Šempeter tombs, re-examining, inter alia, the figures of the satyr and nymph, found on both the Ennii and the Spectatii tombs. Her conclusions propose a new dating for these tombs in the late Antonine period.31 In one of his last contributions concerning Šempeter, E. Pochmarski touched on the statues of the deceased in the Spectatii tomb. In analysing the clothing, or more precisely the winding of the toga on the deceased and their characteristics, he expressed doubts that the statues really be­ longed to this tomb. He identified one of the male figures as Spectatius but claimed that the female statue represented Spectatius’s mother, who would then have been the person mentioned in the missing part of the inscription.32 The family tomb of Spectatius Secundinus was dated by Gabelmann and Kranz to the early 3rd century, in accordance with the hair style and dress of the female figure.33 F. Glaser has made an interesting contribu­ tion, in which he points to the representation of the woman and the boy (the nephew) and the link with the cult of Isis – the boy with a crest on his head is the so-called “Horusknabe”, dedicated to the mysteries of Isis,34 with a writing instrument and diptych in his hands. S. Priester has extended the study to the mythological world of the Šempeter monuments, seeing in the mythological representations prima­rily an expression of everyday life interpreted through mythological al­lusion, and less a statement of the spiritually rich and artistically highly developed world of the local aristocracy.35 Of particular importance for the iconography of the Šempeter monu­ments – in addition to his short contributions36 – is the monograph by Jože Kastelic (The symbolism of Myths on Roman Funerary monuments).37 30 Bojan Djuric, Eastern Alpine Marble and Pannonian Trade, in: Akten, op. cit. (n. 18), 73–86: 78, 80. 31 Pochmarski-Nagele, op. cit. (n. 19). 32 Pochmarski, op. cit. (n. 19), 79–102: 86. 33 See notes 25, 27. 34 Franz Glaser, Isisverehrerinen in Noricum, in: Akten, op. cit. (n. 18), 127–130: 129. 35 Sascha Priester, Mythenbild und Grabbau – Alkestis, Europa und die Bilder- welt der römischen Nekropole von Šempeter, Kölner Jahrbuch 31, 1998, 7–41. 36 Jože Kastelic, Symbolische Darstellungen auf den römischen Grabmonumen-ten in Šempeter bei Celje, in: Akten, op. cit. (n. 18), 9–20; id., The Alcestis Sarcophagus and the Orestes Sarcophagus in the Vatican and Reliefs in Šempeter, Arheološki vestnik 50, 1999, 259–286. 37 Kastelic, op. cit. (n. 16). Only some of the most important works dealing with the Šempeter monuments have been mentioned here. Their richness and their icono- graphic and stylistic features will remain in the future an inexhaustible source of new discussions, each of which will add to our knowledge of the history of these tombs. POVZETEK Dvanajst kilometrov zahodno od Celja leži Šempeter, znan po najlepše ohranjenih spomenikih rimske dobe v Sloveniji. Rodovitna dolina je pri­vabila že prazgodovinska ljudstva. V Grižah in Šešcah poznamo prazgo­dovinske gomile, pripadajoca prazgodovinska naselbina pa leži na Lan­gerju. Prazgodovinski grobovi halštatskega obdobja so bili odkriti tudi v Šempetru v vzhodnem delu rimske nekropole. Rimsko grobišce v Šempetru je ležalo vzdolž severne strani ceste Emona (Ljubljana)– Atrans (Trojane) – Celeia (Celje), na južni strani pa je tekla reka Savinja. Dolgo je bilo vec kot kilometer, a zaradi strnjenih sta­novanjskih poslopij še vedno ni v celoti raziskano. Do odkritja nekropole je prišlo leta 1952. V casu arheoloških izkopavanj je ekipa raziskala povr­šino 2500 m˛. Raziskan je bil predel nekdanje struge Savinje, z grušcem zasuto recno korito, v katerem so ležali deli podrtih grobnic. Kmalu se je pokazalo, da bo mogoce nekatere grobnice rekonstruirati, zato je posebna skupina naredila mavcni odlitek vsakega odkritega kosa v merilu 1 : 10. Posebno pozornost so namenili razlicnim vdolbinam in zarezam, saj so bila to najboljša vodila za sestavljanje posameznih delov oziroma clenov grobnice. Ko so bila izkopavanja leta 1956 koncana, je sledilo nekajletno inten­zivno delo in poskus rekonstrukcije spomenikov. Spomladi leta 1959 so zaceli z rekonstrukcijskimi deli, avgusta pa so bili spomeniki postavljeni in pripravljeni za obisk. Leta 1964 so se zacela sistematicna arheološka izkopavanja vzhodne­ga dela šempetrske nekropole. Izkopavanja Pokrajinskega muzeja Celje pod vodstvom V. Kolšek v letih 1964–1965 in 1967 so odkrila še en del šempetrske nekropole s 96 grobovi in rimsko makadamsko cesto. Grobovi in grobnice so bili nanizani tesno drug ob drugem v smeri proti rekon­struiranim grobnicam v naselju. Južno od grobišca je bila odkrita rimska cesta (Emona–Celeia), ki je tekla vzdolž celotne nekropole. Makadamsko cestišce je bilo slabo ohranjeno, vozni del je meril 6 m v širino, skupaj z obcestnima jarkoma pa je bila cesta široka 9 metrov. Ugotovili so, da se grobišce južno od ceste ni širilo – tam je tekla reka Savinja. Grobišce je od Savinje locevala samo cesta in ob poplavi v drugi polovici 3. stoletja, ki je prizadela vso Savinjsko dolino s Celejo vred, je bilo uniceno tudi šempetrsko grobišce. Šempetrske grobnice spadajo med najlepše ohranjene spomenike rimske dobe. Njihova rekonstrukcija in postavitev je že na zacetku zbu­dila zanimanje in številna vprašanja in izzive, povezane na eni strani z ikonografijo in casovno opredelitvijo spomenikov, pa tudi s samo rekon­strukcijo. O poteku rekonstrukcije je v prvi skupni publikaciji o šempetrskih spomenikih natancno porocala V. Kolšek, leta 1995 pa je na kolokviju v Celju ponovno utemeljila in pojasnila rekonstrukcijo grobnice Enijcev. V svoje delo o nagrobni arhitekturi in tipologiji noriških spomenikov je vkljucila šempetrske grobnice tudi G. Kremer. Zadnji prispevek k rekon­strukciji šempetrskih grobnic je delo A. Maver, ki je v diplomski nalogi rekonstruirala t. i. arkadno grobnico. Datiranje spomenikov je bilo po prvi objavi veckrat utemeljeno ko­rigirano, predvsem na osnovi ikonografskih znacilnosti in posameznih detajlov. Nove študije o problematiki šempetrskih spomenikov je prinesel tudi 4. mednarodni kolokvij o problemih rimske provincialne umetnosti v Celju. Med slovenskimi raziskovalci je poleg nekaj krajših prispevkov zadnjo najobsežnejšo študijo o ikonografiji šempetrskih spomenikov pri­speval Jože Kastelic v knjigi Simbolika mitov na rimskih nagrobnih spo­menikih. The Arcade Tomb of Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, Slovenia ANDREJA MAVER The site lies in the valley of the Savinja River, in the vicinity of Celje (Celeia). This valley has formed an important communication route since prehistoric times, as it continued to do in the Roman period. At that time this route connected Italy to its provinces of Noricum and Pannonia, run­ning towards the Danube and taking in on the way the cities of Aquileia, Emona, Celeia and Poetovio, besides others. Šempeter v Savinjski dolini likewise represented a point on this route, where it crossed the Savinja.1 The Šempeter cemetery was quite an extensive one. Two sections of it have so far been excavated: beneath the church of St Peter in the years 1952–1955, and to the east of it between 1964 and 1967. Furthermore, a number of stone fragments have been found by chance; some of these were, or even still are, built into houses. The first section of the cemetery yielded the most impressive finds so far made. This was discovered by chance, when digging for gravel. Immediately after several white marble blocks and sculptures had been discovered, systematic excavation com­menced. Four consecutive years of work yielded many blocks, fragments and chippings of marble and, to a lesser extent, also of sandstone. A sub­stantial number of the pieces were reconstructed to make four tombs, now proudly standing in the archaeological park at the very site where they were originally brought to light. Moreover, a number of stelae and ash-chests were discovered, the latter hewn from sandstone. Of importance for the purposes of this article, however, are the remaining marble fragments. In their case, the initial assumption was that they must belong to several large, but different, tombs, the form of which could not be determined for lack of evidence. A re-evaluation of these pieces was conducted by Gabrielle Kremer.2 1 Josip Klemenc, Zacasno porocilo o izkopavanju v Šempetru, Arheološki vestnik 6, 1955, 291–312; Josip Klemenc, Vera Kolšek, Peter Petru, Anticne grobnice v Šempetru, Katalogi in monografije 9, Ljubljana 1972; Vera Kolšek, Vzhodni del anticne nekropole v Šempetru, Katalogi in monografije 14, Ljubljana 1977. 2 Gabrielle Kremer, Antike Grabbauten in Noricum, Österreichisches Archäolo­gisches Institut, Sonderschriften 36, Wien 2001, 74–76, Abb. 37; 84–97, Abb. 56, 58, 59; 99, Abb. 63. After a thorough re-examination, the constituent pieces began to make sense as a single tomb, large and rather more complex than those previously reconstructed.3Named the ‘Arcade Tomb’ after an architectural feature, it is the fifth tomb of the Šempeter cemetery to be reconstructed. This new attempt at a reconstruction offers the most complete and detailed presentation of the tomb so far attempted – of its form, on one hand, and of its size, on the other (Fig. 1). Fig. 1. Šempeter in Sa­vinjska dolina, computer model of the Arcade Tomb. Andreja Maver, The Arcade Tomb in Šempeter, Slovenia – An attempt at a reconstruction, Arheološki vestnik 55, 2004, 343–414. FORMOF THE TOMB The Arcade Tomb belongs to a group of Roman funerary monuments with the upper part taking the form of an aedicula. The tomb is basically a tri­ partite structure with socle, aedicula and roof. More precisely, the recent attempt at reconstruction proposes a tomb composed of a one- or, more probably, two-tiered socle with an accentuated vertical division. The body of the socle is inserted between the steps beneath and the stylobate above, separated from both by upper and lower mouldings. Above the stylobate there is an open, columned upper storey with a separately made canopy in the ample interior and arcades spanning the columns. This storey is an aedicula with two free-standing columns and two pilasters on the sides, and probably four free-standing columns with a wider central intercolum­niation on the front side (Fig. 2). Under the canopy, the aedicula also held the images of the deceased. As regards the latter, the sizes of both the Fig. 2. Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, drawing of the front side of the tomb from the stylobate upwards. canopy and the upper storey suggest statues rather than alternative forms of self-representation. The tomb is covered by a gabled roof, topped by a ridge cap with acroteria. SIZE OF THE TOMB The measurements of the Arcade tomb bespeak an impressive funerary monument. They exceed the dimensions of other tombs of Šempeter in width, depth and height. At the epistyle, the most completely preserved and certain of the courses, the tomb is 4.35–4.55 m wide and 3.68 m deep. The minimum height of the tomb is 8.14–8.23 m including – or 7.79–7.88 m not including – the stylobate. However, with the addition of the probable two-tiered socle, the height is estimated to be over 9.60 m. Fig. 3. Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, photo of the left side of the epistyle with the decoration of griffins flanking kantharoi (Photo: Andreja Maver). DECORATION The decoration of the Šempeter tombs belongs to the artistic production of Noricum and Pannonia. This applies to the Arcade Tomb as well. The most flourishing period of the south Norican art runs from the beginning of the Marcomannic Wars of Marcus Aurelius to the late-Antonine and Severan periods. These products show the iconographic, and partly also stylistic, influence of Neoattic Classicism.4 Jože Kastelic, Simbolika mitov na rimskih nagrobnih spomenikih. Šempeter v Savinjski dolini, Ljubljana 1998, 183; Peter Kranz, Überlegung zur Herkunft As for the Arcade Tomb, its decoration consists of relief depictions within moulded frames. The exception is a statue of a griffin, which is carved in the round and served as an acroterion. At the epistyle, the tomb was decorated with vines, growing from kantaharoi, on the front, and pairs of griffins guarding kantaharoi with fruit, on both sides of the epi-style (Fig. 3). In the soffits of the arcades we once again encounter vines, as well as laurel/olive branches, while on the front the soffits carry depic­tions of pairs of eagles carrying garlands in their beaks, with a weapon frieze in the centre (Fg. 4). The horizontal ceiling was also decorated: there we find rosettes, a griffin (?), an eagle (?) and plant motifs, as well as an unfinished relief, crowned by a canopy. Further down, between the pilasters of the column course, there is a winged female figure. She is flanked by cornucopiae filled with fruit (pomegranates and raisins?). The canopy is decorated with a marine thiasos and a gorgoneion on the front; its ceiling is decorated with rosettes set in coffers, while the soffit bears a depiction of a mask surrounded by vines. A marine thiasos reappears on a fragment that formed part of either the stylobate or the intermediate frieze of the socle. The socle is the most prominent place for relief depiction on the Nori-can aedicula tombs, it also hosts the funerary inscription. Unfortunately, for the Arcade Tomb very little socle decoration is preserved. What sur­vives comprises, in the present state of knowledge, merely some naked male figures with arms, in a heroic position (Fig. 5). These are visible on two or three fragments. Their position within the socle, however, permits us to suppose the original presence of altogether eight such reliefs: four on the left side, and four on the right side, of the tomb. Norican tombs in general are densely covered with decoration. Ar­chitectural elements, too, bear decoration: mouldings, column as well as pilaster capitals and shafts. The columns and the pilasters all belong to the Corinthian order, their shafts being fluted with reeds in the lower third. The mouldings of the horizontal, and probably also on the raking, cornice are decorated on all sides, except at the rear. The Lesbian kymation, dentil, consoles with acanthus leaves rimmed with a string of beads, and Doric kymation succeed each other towards the top. The coffers between the consoles include motifs such as a frog and a dolphin, as well as various branches and rosettes. The decoration of the Arcade Tomb also provided clear pointers to südnorischer Bildhauerwerkstätten, Akti IV. mednarodnega kolokvija o prob-lemih rimske provincialne umetnosti, Celje, 8. – 12. maj 1995, Situla 36, 1997, 141–149: 141, 145, 148; Sascha Priester, Mythenbild und Grabbau: Alkestis, Eu­ropa, Orest und die Bilderwelt der römischen Nekropole von Šempeter, Klner Jahrbuch 31, 1998, 7–41. the date of the tomb, which must belong to the late – perhaps the end of the – second century A.D. Fig. 4. Šempeter in Sa­vinjska dolina, drawing of the soffites of the front epistyle side depicting eagles, with a garland in their beaks, and a weapon frieze. TYPOLOGICAL DETERMINATION AND CONTEXT The Arcade Tomb is composed of three basic parts: a closed socle, an open upper storey with columns and a gabled roof. This type of tomb was known in Asia Minor already in the fourth century B.C. and later appeared over the entire Roman Empire with much variety of architectural elements. The tomb form is known in the literature by various names based on different criteria: Mausoleumgrundform, mehrstckige Grabbau, tomba a aedicola sul podio, mehrstckige Aedikulabauten, mausolée, aedicula tomb, among others. This plethora of terms well illustrates the difficulty of capturing the essence of the type through a single name, when one of its salient char­acteristics is the above-mentioned freedom of combining individual archi­tectural elements.5 This eclecticism is clearly evident also in the tombs of Šempeter. The Arcade Tomb is typologically classifiable as an aedicula tomb with several intercolumniations: more precisely, an aedicula tomb with a portico.6 The upper storey of the tomb reveals a combination of architec­ tural elements hitherto unknown in Noricum or in its vicinity. The exterior is formed by an aedicula. This is enlarged relative to the norm, whereby it 5 Henner von Hesberg, Rmische Grabbauten, Darmstadt 1992, 121–123; Kre- mer, op. cit. (n. 3), 23, Note 82. 6 This determination was first suggested by Gabrielle Kremer (op. cit. (n. 3), 84) and was accepted also by the author of the new attempt at a reconstruction. Fig. 5. Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, photo of a socle block bearing the depiction of a male nude with arms (Photo: Andreja Maver). gains in the number of its arches, on one hand, and in interior space, on the other. In the interior there is a separately made canopy. We are therefore dealing with a mixture of two different tomb forms. Each is well known in its own right (in­cluding in the vicinity of Šempeter), but exists in combination within the Arcade Tomb. The origin of the form of the Ar­cade Tomb’s upper storey is therefore to be sought in the combination of two separate tomb forms (each individually familiar to the mason’s workshop) in re­sponse to the larger-than-usual size of the tomb, rather than in a typologically equivalent predecessor. CONCLUSION The Arcade Tomb is the last in a series of reconstructions of funerary monuments in the province of Noricum. The province boasted an exten­sive, as well as a distinctive, production of funerary monuments, includ­ing aedicula tombs. Neither its origins nor its chronological development, however, have as yet been satisfactorily explained. As for the tomb itself, it is one of the largest in Noricum. Its size alone presupposes substantial means available to the deceased or to the person who had the tomb built. Whether these means were linked to a specific function, political and/or military, it is too early to tell. In the absence of any inscription, it is not even possible to give a name to the deceased. Nor does the tomb’s decoration provide any help in that direction. The motifs that appear do not include any known to have a representational character, such as the sella curulis. Future iconographic research in that direction might, nevertheless, yield results and offer additional pieces towards the solution of this tomb’s puzzle. POVZETEK Najdišce leži v dolini reke Savinje, v bližini Celja (Celeia). Tamkajšnje grobišce se je raztezalo ob severni strani rimske ceste, medtem ko je ob južni strani ceste tekla Savinja. Štiri grobnice s tega grobišca so že rekon­struirane, pred nedavnim pa je bil podan poskus za rekonstrukcijo še pete, to je arkadne grobnice. Omenjeni poskus predlaga grobnico, ki je sestavljena iz eno- ali, kar je bolj verjetno, dvovrstnega podstavka. Nad njim je stal odprt stebrni del s posebej izdelanim baldahinom v prostorni notranjosti, stebre pa so po­vezovale arkade. Pod baldahinom so bile postavljene podobe pokojnikov. Grobnica je bila pokrita z dvokapno streho, ki jo je zakljucevalo sleme z akroteriji. Arkadna grobnica je tipološko opredeljena kot edikula z vec interkolumniji, natancneje kot edikula s stebrnim predprostorom. Na epi­stilnem delu je grobnica merila 4,35–4,55 m v širino in 3,68 m v globino. Najmanjša višina grobnice znaša 8,14–8,23 m s stilobatom oziroma 7,79– 7,88 m brez njega. Skupaj z verjetno obstojecim dvovrstnim podstavkom pa je višina grobnice ocenjena na vec kot 9,60 m. Okras šempetrskih grobnic spada v umetnostno proizvodnjo Norika in Panonije, kar drži tudi za arkadno grobnico. Njen okras tvorijo reliefne upodobitve v profiliranih okvirjih z izjemo kipa grifona, ki je izdelan v polni plastiki. Med motivi najdemo vinsko trto, ki raste iz kantarov, pare grifonov, ki varujejo kantare, polne sadja, vejice lovorja oziroma oljke, para orlov z girlando v kljunih, friz z orožjem, krilato žensko figuro, ki je obdana s paroma sadja polnih rogov izobilja, morski thiasos, gorgoneion, rozete v kasetnih poljih, maskaron, obdan z vinsko trto, ter gole moške figure z orožjem, v herojskih pozah. Okras arkadne grobnice pa je pripo­mogel tudi k casovni umestitvi te grobne arhitekture v pozno 2. stoletje n. š. oziroma na konec tega stoletja. The Poetics of the Argonaut Voyage: Shamanism, Sorcery and Art MARKO MARINCIC The title of this paper might appear confusing since it seems to promise a vague discussion on a very specific subject, which calls for some clari­fication. I am not going to discuss either the ancient theories of epic1 or the preliterary origins of the Argonaut myth. Instead, I will focus on two archetypal thematic impulses that found expression in the long afterlife of the Argonaut myth in literature, music and art: the transcendent power of song personified in the character of Orpheus and the talismanic magic represented by the Golden Fleece and other magical objects associated with the story of Medea.2 Apollonius’s Argonautics, the earliest surviving literary work deal­ing with the Argonauts (3rd century BC), is a work of a learned author who approached the archaic myth as an antiquarian and a literary gourmet, a typical representative of the cultural elite institutionally linked to the Ptolemaic court and to the Museion of Alexandria. As a highly self-con­scious poet, Apollonius is almost obsessively concerned with metaliterary issues, constantly reflecting on the very act of writing a(n) (epic) poem.3 The Argonautics is almost as much concerned with itself as with Jason’s journey; as a literary journey, it begins with the letter A and with the word ....µe..., “starting”, and it can be no coincidence that Orpheus is pre­sented as the leading figure in the catalogue of the crew (1, 32). The very fact that Apollonius thematicizes the self-reflexive charac­ter of the poem in the figure of Orpheus leads us to the archaic myth of Orpheus.4 Orpheus, who acts as the main protagonist of the expedition in 1 See Severin Koster, Antike Epostheorien, Wiesbaden 1970; Denis C. Feeney, The Gods in Epic: Poets and Critics of the Classical Tradition, Oxford 1991. 2 For recent discussions of the myth, see Fritz Graf, Medea, the Enchantress from Afar: Remarks on a Well-known Myth, in: Medea: Essays on Medea in Myth, Literature, Philosophy and Art, eds. James J. Clauss, Sarah Iles Johnston, Princeton 1997, 21–43, and other contributions in the same volume. 3 For a narratological analysis of the poem, see Massimo Fusillo, Il tempo delle Argonautiche. Un’analisi del racconto in Apollonio Rodio, Roma 1985; Richard Hunter, The Argonautica of Apollonius: Literary Studies, Cambridge 1993. 4 For general discussions of the myth, see Ernst Maass, Orpheus, München 1895; Konrat Ziegler, Orpheus, in: der Realencyclopädie classischen Altertumswis­ the Orphic Argonautica, a poem written in the imperial age, was presum­ably present among the Argonauts from the very beginning as a shamanic figure.5He saved the Argonauts from the Sirens by overcoming their song with his own, and it is probably from the Argonautic Orpheus that the Homeric Odysseus borrowed his Sirens episode.6 In this, as in many other respects, the Argonauts’ journey was a crucial model for the journeys of Odysseus.7 Circe, who was later known as Medea’s aunt, was probably modelled on her “granddaughter”; as a “new” character striving for epic glory, she refers to Argo as a “worn out” subject (Hom. Od. 12, 69–72; the homoeoteleuton µ....sa – p....sa can be taken as a playful allusion to the pleonastic character of the backward journey): ... d. .e... .e pa..p.. p..t.p.... .... .... p.s. µ....sa. pa.. ...ta. p....sa. .a. .. .e t.. .... ..a ß..e. µe...a. p.t. p.t.a.. .... .... pa..peµ.e.. .pe. f.... .e. ..s... One seafaring ship alone has passed thereby, that Argo famed of all, on her voyage from Aeetes, and even her the wave would speedily have dashed there against the great crags, had not Here sent her through, for that Jason was dear to her. Aiaie, the island of Circe, corresponds to the original destination of the Argonauts, Aia, the Land of the Sun, the starting point of Helios’s senchaft 18/1, 1939, 1268–1281; Cecil M. Bowra, Orpheus and Eurydice, Clas­sical Quarterly 2, 1952, 113–125; John Warden, Orpheus: The Metamorphosis of a Myth, Toronto 1982; Charles Segal, Orpheus: The Myth of the Poet, Balti­more, London 1989; Elizabeth Henry, Orpheus With His Lute: Poetry and the Renewal of Life, Carbondale and Edwardsville, London 1992. 5 For Orpheus as a mystical shaman-like figure, see Robert Böhme, Orpheus: Der Sänger und seine Zeit, Bern 1970 (to be used with caution). The earliest repre­sentation of Orpheus as an Argonaut is the Metope from the Sicyonian treasury in Delphi, showing Argo with the Dioscuri, Orpheus and another lyre-player (575–550 BC); Orpheus may be playing in order to drown out the Sirens. 6 Georg Danek, Epos und Zitat: Studien zu den Quellen der Odyssee, Wien 1998, 250 ff., with further bibliography. 7 The fundamental work of Karl Meuli, Odyssee und Argonautica. Untersu­chungen zur griechischen Sagengeschichte und zum Epos, Berlin 1921, is out­dated in many respects; for criticism, see Uwo Hölscher, Die Odyssee. Epos zwischen Märchen und Roman, Mnchen 31990, 175 ff. Hölscher goes so far as to deny the influence of the pre-Odyssean Argonaut myth on Odysseus’s journey; against this radical view, see Wolfgang Kullmann, Ergebnisse der mo-tivgeschichtlichen Forschung zu Homer (Neoanalyse), in: Zweihundert Jahre Homer-Forschung. Rückblick und Ausblick, ed. Joachim Latacz, Stuttgart 1991 (Colloquium Rauricum 2), 425–455: 449 ff. daily journey (Mimn. fr. 5; 10 Gentili-Prato).8 Only much later, probably during the colonization of the Black Sea region, was Aia identified as Colchis (cf. Eumel. fr. 3 EpGF; Hdt. 1, 2, 2). The story of Jason and the Golden Fleece contains almost the whole set of elements characteristic of the hero-myth as defined by Vladimir Propp:9 a myth telling the story of a young warrior whom a father figure sends on a dangerous mission, expecting that he will not return. The es­sential ingredients of the myth are these: the hero’s encounter, in the land of the mission, of the ruler’s daughter who falls in love with him and helps him; his success in the mission; his return and the desertion of the prin­cess; the killing of the man who imposed the task on the hero; the hero’s commission of some transgression and his destruction. From an anthropological point of view, the myth of Jason the Ar­gonaut is an initiation myth;10 Medea’s role is that of an initiatrix.11 Aia, the Land of the Sun, where the symbolic initiation of the warrior takes place, has a dual character: to Phrixus, who arrives there on the back of the golden ram, it represents the place of salvation; to Jason it potentially represents the place of his death. In the Odyssey, the island Aiaie is depicted as a place of transcendent beauty (Hom. Od. 12, 1–7): ..t.. .pe. p.taµ... ..pe. .... ..ea.... ..... .p. d. ..et. ..µa .a..ss.. e...p..... ..s.. t. ..a.... ... t. .... ....e.e... ....a .a. ..... e.s. .a. ..t..a. .e...... ..a µ.. .... .....te. ....saµe. .. .aµ....s... .. d. .a. a.t.. ß.µe. .p. ...µ... .a..ss... ...a d. .p.ß...a.te. .µe..aµe. .. d.a.. Now after our ship had left the stream of the river Oceanus and had come to the wave of the broad sea, and the Aeaean isle, where is the dwelling of early Dawn and her dancing-lawns, and the risings of the sun, there on our coming we beached our ship on the sands, and ourselves went 8 Albin Lesky, Aia, Wiener Studien 63, 1948, 22–68 (=Gesammelte Schriften, Bern, München 1966, 26–62); on the Argonaut myth as a solar myth, see Charles R. Beye, Epic and Romance in the Argonautica of Apollonius, Carbondale and Edwardsville 1982, 43: “a story which tells of a trip to the east to procure a shin­ing golden object which is then brought to the west may arouse the suspicion that we are dealing with some kind of solar story.” 9 Morphology of the Folktale, Austin 21968 [1927]. 10 Richard Hunter, Short on Heroics: Jason and the Argonautica, Classical Quar­terly n. s. 38, 1988, 436–453: 448 ff.; Fusillo, op. cit. (n. 3), 15–17. 11 Fritz Graf, Orpheus: A Poet Among Men, in: Interpretations of Greek Mythol­ogy, ed. J. Bremmer, London 1987, 80–106. forth upon the shore of the sea, and there we fell asleep, and waited for the bright Dawn. Yet at the same time, the island of Circe is located close to the en­trance to the Underworld. A similar ambiguity is reflected in the character of Circe, who, as a daughter of the Sun-God and a sorceress, exercizes power over the realm of the dead: she is a benevolent (albeit tyrannical) protector of Odysseus, but she is also a dangerous witch who transforms Greek sailors into beasts. The voyage of Argo is often seen as symbolic of the passage to the nether world;12 it is a symbolic conquest of transcendent wisdom beyond death.13 This, not the quest for Eurydice, was the original motive for Or­pheus’s descent to Hades;14 hence the presence of Orpheus among the Ar­gonauts and his prominence in certain versions of the story also reflects the initiatory symbolism inherent in the Argonaut myth. In Apollonius’s poem, Orpheus the shaman is portrayed in the mod­ern costume of a natural philosopher, as an Alexandrian poeta doctus. The song he performs at the beginning of the journey is an Empedoclean cosmology based on the cosmic principles of philotes and neikos, love and repulsion (Arg. 1, 494–515): .. d. .a. ..fe... .a.. ..as..µe... ...a.... pe..a.e. ...d... ..e.de. d. .. .a.a .a. ...a... .d. ...assa. t. p... .t. .......s. µ.. s..a....ta µ..f.. .e..e.. .. ...... d......e. .µf.. ..asta. ... ... .a. . µ.. f..µ...a s.. .µß..s.. s...e. a.d.. t.. d. .µ.t.. ...a.t.. .t. p......t. .....a. p..te. .µ.. .....s.. .p. ..as.. ..eµ...te. .....µ.. t.... sf.. ......pe ....t... ...d... Moreover Orpheus took up his lyre in his left hand and began to sing. He sang of how the earth, the heavens, and the sea – once upon a time united with each other in a single form – were sundered apart by deadly strife ... ... This was his song. He checked his lyre and his divine voice, but though he had finished, the others all still leaned forwards, ears straining under 12 François Vian, Apollonios de Rhodes, Argonautiques, Tome I (Chants I–II), Paris 1974, 125; Malcolm Campbell, A Commentary on Apollonius Rhodius Argonautica III, 1–471, Leiden 1994, ad 3, 61–63. 13 Böhme, op. cit (n. 5), 222 ff. 14 Bowra, op. cit. (n. 4), 122 ff. the peaceful spell; such was the bewitching power of the music which lingered amongst them.15 As Damien Nelis has demostrated, the song is a creative reworking of two Homeric scenes that were often interpreted allegorically: the adultery of Ares and Aphrodite described by the aoidos Deomodocus in his song (. 266 ff.), and the Homeric shield of Achilles representing two cities, a city at peace and a city at war (S 483 ff.).16 The two divine adulterers were most frequently identified with the two principles of Empedoclean cosmology, particularly since Empedocles himself illustrated the divine character of the four Elements by metaphorically identifying them with four divinities (B 6). The cosmological speculation of the Apollonian Orpheus is not mere­ly a decorative piece of learning, and it is certainly not an aim in itself. Orpheus sings his song in order to dissipate the quarrel that has broken out between Idmon the seer and Idas the impious slanderer. In its im­mediate function, through its magical spell, the song of Orpheus recalls archaic shamanism. In its wider context, however, and with respect to its content, it can be regarded as a metaliterary representation of the poem itself. A number of interpreters claim that Orpheus and Medea are por­ trayed as two antagonistic characters representing, respectively, harmony and strife.17 According to Empedocles, the world was originally spherical in form and was ruled by Love; then the Strife cleaved the One into Many. This cosmic process is reflected in the later development of the narrative, which reveals that the quarrel Orpheus soothed by his music was really only a prelude to the tyrannical rule of Strife that unfolds in the last two books of the poem. In fact, Books 3 and 4 are dominated by Medea; they are introduced by an invocation of Erato, the Muse suggesting Eros by her name, while the actual subject of those books is “Deadly Strife”.18 15 All translations of the Argonautics are from Richard Hunter, Apollonius of Rhodes: Jason and the Golden Fleece, Oxford 1995; for Catullus 64, I follow George P. Goold, Catullus, London 1983. 16 Damien Nelis, Demodocus and the Song of Orpheus, Museum Helveticum 49, 1992, 153–170. 17 Ray J. Clare, The Path of the Argo: Language, Imagery and Narrative in the Argonautica of Apollonius Rhodius, Cambridge 2002. 18 The duplicity of Erato becomes even more explicit in the Virgilian adaptation at the beginning of Aeneid 7 (37 ff.), which is a prelude to the “Iliadic” part of the poem; cf. Damien Nelis, Vergil’s Aeneid and the Argonautica of Apol­lonius Rhodius, Cambridge 2001, 267 ff. The second model for the Virgilian invocation is Book 7 (!) of Ennius’s Annales, where an Empedoclean Discordia taetra opens the gates of war; see Philip Hardie, Virgil’s Aeneid: Cosmos and Imperium, Oxford 1986, 209 ff.; Nelis, op. cit., 289 and n. 99, with further bib­liography. Apollonius’s poem ends with the end of the journey; it closes with a hymnic address to the heroes of the past and does not go on to narrate the events of Euripides’ tragedy (Arg. 4, 1773–1781): ..at. ...st.e.. µa..... ...... a.de d. ...da. e.. .t.. .. .te.. ....e..te.a. e.e. .e.de.. .....p.... .d. ... .p. ...t. pe..a.. ..... .µet.... .aµ.t.. ... Be gracious, heroes, children of the blessed gods, and may these songs be from year to year ever sweeter for men to sing. For now I have reached the glorious conclusion of your struggles ...19 Even a naďve reader unfamiliar with the artificialities of Alexandrian poetry would feel uneasy about this abrupt closure. Medea’s agony calls for a Euripidean tragic epilogue. To be sure, the Corinthian tragedy is not the subject of the poem, and it certainly goes beyond the main plot; nonetheless, the tragedy suppressed by the hymnic closure is ominously present in the anxious mind of Medea as well as in the literary memory of the reader. Perhaps the most notable case of tragic foreshadowing is the scene of the wedding of Jason and Medea in Book 4. The Argonauts arrive at Corcyra, in the land of the Phaeacians (982 ff.). At the court of King Alci-nous they meet a group of Colchians who demand Medea and the Golden Fleece. Alcinous tells the Colchians that they can bring Medea to Colchis only if she is still a virgin, but if she is already married and bears a child she may stay with Jason. In the meantime, the queen secretly prepares everything for the wedding of Jason and Medea, and they celebrate the marriage on the same day. The ritual takes place in a cave in which the nymph Macris has nur­tured the Child Dionysus (1128–1169). The nymphs who come from the nearby mountains to attend the wedding are struck with awe and wonder at the beauty of the Fleece, which is spread in the cave: p.sa. d. p.... .. .µfepe. a..... t.... .p. ...s... ..s.... .µa..sset. f...... da.e d. .. .f.a.µ... ....e... p..... .s.e d. ...st.. a.d.. .eµ.... pe. .µ.. .p. .e..a ßa..s.a.. a. µ.. t. ...a... p.taµ.. .a....t. ...at.e.. a. d. ..e.. ....f.. .e..t.... .µfe..µ..t.. a. d. .sa. .. ped... ..s..de.. ..se ... a.t. .... ..... ....t... ..s..a ..da....sa. 19 The underlining is employed to highlight the intertextual dialogue between Ca­ tullus and Apollonius. All were surrounded by a radiance like that of fire – so bright was the sparkling glow from the tufts of golden wool. In their eyes the fleece lit a sweet longing; but despite their desire, all were too shy to place their hands upon the fleece. Some were called the daughters of the river Aigaios, othershaunted the peaks of the mountain of Melite, others were wood-nymphs from the plains; Zeus’s wife, Hera herself, had roused them to come, to bring honour to Jason. This is a scene laden with symbolism and tragic irony. Orpheus (!) sings a wedding song (1159), and the couple consummate the marriage upon the fleece, as if the bond between Jason and Medea were sealed with the authority of the fleece, or as if Jason had finally subordinated his mercantile interests to his love for Medea. This is, at least, what Medea would like to believe, but the final authorial comment suggests a different view of the event: .. µ.. .. ......... ..µ.. µe..a..e te..ssa. .... ..s...d... µe...... d. ... pat... .... ..st.sa. .. ...... .p.t..p... .. d. .a. a.t. ..de.a f....es.e. t.t. a. ..e. ..e µ....a.. .... ... ..p.te f..a d..pa.... .....p.. te.p.... .p.ß.µe. ... p.d.. s.. d. t.. a.e. p.... pa.µ.µß...e. ..f..s...s.. ..... It was not .n the territory of Alkinoos that the heroic son of Aison had wished to marry, but in the house of his father after his safe return to lolkos; this too had been Medea’s intention, but necessity forced them to lie together at that time. It is a fact that we tribes of suffering men never plant our feet firmly upon the path of joy, but there is ever some bitter pain to keep company with our delight. There is an obvious connection between Medea’s role as a sorceress and the talismanic symbolism of the Golden Fleece: as a granddaughter of the Sun God, Medea uses various magical objects that recall the golden gleam of the Fleece; in Euripides’ drama she uses a poisoned robe and a golden crown as a weapon against Jason’s new bride, the anonymous Corinthian princess, who is literally consumed by fire (Eur. Med., 1156– 1162): . d.. .. .se.de ..sµ... ... ...s.et.. .... ...es. ..d.. p..ta. .a. p... .. d.µ.. µa.... .pe..a. pat..a .a. pa.da. s..e. .aß..sa p.p.... p........ .µp.s.et.. ...s... te .e.sa st.fa... .µf. ß.st...... .aµp... .at.pt... s..µat..eta. ..µ... ...... e... p..s.e..sa s.µat.. When she had seen the raiment, she could not wait but consented to all her husband asked, and before your children and their father had gone far from the house, she took the many-colored gown and put it on, and setting the gold crown about her locks, she arranged her hair in a bright mirror, smiling at the lifeless image of her body. A further magical object of the same type is depicted in Argonautics 4, where Jason and Medea lure Medea’s brother Apsyrtus into an ambush with the aid of a magical purple cloak. Jason received this cloak as a fare­well gift from the queen of Lemnos Hypsipyle in Book 1; Hypsipyle had, in her turn, inherited the garment from her father Thoas, the son of Ari­ adne and Dionysus (4, 421–434.445–449): .. t..e ..µß..te µ..a. d.... ..t..a.t. ....t.. .a. p.... p.... .e....a d..a. ... µ.ta .a. p.p... d.sa. .e... ...p..e... p..f..e... t.. µ.. .a .....s. ..µ.. a.ta. ... .. .µf.... ....te. .ea.. a.t.. . pa.d. d..e T.a.t. µeta.t... . d. a. ..pe. ...p..e... . d. .p... ..s...d. p...s.. µet. .a. t. f..es.a. ....es.. e.e.... .e....... .. µ.. .f.ss.. ..te .e. e.s..... ...... .µe... .µp..se.a.. t.. d. .a. .µß..s.. .dµ. p..e. ...t. .e.... .. .. ..a. a.t.. ..s.... ...at..e.t. ......... .... .a. ...ta... .a.. µeµa.p.. st..ea pa..e..... .....d... .. p.te T.se.. ...ss..e. .sp.µ.... ... ... .....pe ..s.. ... S..t... ..... µ..a p.µa. µ..a st.... .....p..s... .. s..e. ....µe.a. t. ...de. st..a.a. te .... te. ...e. t. .... .p. t..s.. .pe....a tet...as... d.sµe.... .p. pa.s. ....sse. da.µ.. .e..e.. .... ..de.. st..e... f.es.. .µßa.e. .t... So the two of them reached an agreement and prepared a terrible deceit against Apsyrtos. They sent many gifts of friendship, including the holy, purple robe of Hypsipyle. The divine Graces themselves had woven this for Dionysos on sea-girt Dia; he gave it to his son Thoas who in turn left it for Hypsipyle who offered it to the son of Aison to take away as a splendid friendship gift, together with many other wonderful things. You could never satisfy your sweet desire either by touching or gazing upon it. An ambrosial scent hovered over it ever since the time when the Nysaian lord himself, tipsy with wine and nectar, lay upon it as he pressed against himself the lovely breasts of the maiden daughter of Minos, whom Theseus once abandoned on the island of Dia after she had followed him from Knossos. ... Reckless Eros, great curse, greatly loathed by men, from you come deadly strifes and grieving and troubles, and countless other pains on top of these swirl up. Rear up, divine spirit, against my enemies’children as you were when you threw hateful folly into Medea’s heart. The cloak is a material witness of Ariadne’s bliss: she was loved by Dionysus and, after her death, the god transformed her golden wreath into a constellation. Yet the most obvious parallel between the two stories lies in the fact that both Theseus and Jason abandoned the foreign princess who helped them to overcome the monster. To be more precise, Jason will abandon Medea at a later stage of the story not narrated by Apollonius but suggested to the reader as the only possible outcome.20 Therefore, the pres­ence of the cloak is to be taken as a bad omen, a material emblem of tragic irony. Ominous objects and works of art forecasting future events are a common narrative device in ancient epic, drama and novel;21 Massimo Fu­sillo studied this aspect of Apollonius’s epic along the lines of modern nar­ ratology in terms of “retorica degli oggetti”.22 It should be added, however, that in the context of the myth of Medea, the symbolic powers attributed to those objects have a distinctly “material” basis: they are explicitly related to magic. In fact, Apollonius has been preparing the reader for this scene through much of Book 3. In an extensive dialogue, Jason tries to secure the help of Medea by adducing the example of Ariadne, who was rewarded for her service to Theseus by the apotheosis of her golden wreath (3, 997– 1111). Jason, of course, passes over the desertion of Ariadne in silence, but as the reader knows only too well, the actual parallel lies in the fact that he will later abandon Medea in favour of the Corinthian princess. Me­dea, who curiously ignores the story of her relative, refuses the flattering comparison with Ariadne; in her present state, her only wish is not to be surrendered to the Colchians. She does not know that Theseus abandoned Ariadne, but she does suspect something,23 and one is led to believe that Jason actually manipulates the myth to suit his selfish purposes.24 This 20 François Vian, Apollonios de Rhodes, Argonautiques, Tome III (Chant IV), Pa­ris 1981, 165; Fusillo, op. cit. (n. 3), 310. 21 Paul Friedländer, Johannes von Gaza, Paulus Silentiarius und Prokopios von Gaza, Hildesheim, New York 1912 (repr. 1969), 49–50; George E. Duckworth, Foreshadowing and Suspense in the Epics of Homer, Apollonius and Vergil, Diss. Princeton 1933; Alessandro Perutelli, La narrazione commentata. Studi sull’epillio latino, Pisa 1979; Shadi Bartsch, Decoding the Ancient Novel, Prin­ceton 1989. 22 Fusillo, op. cit. (n. 3), 307 ff. 23 François Vian, Apollonios de Rhodes, Argonautiques, Chant III, Édition, intro­duction et commentaire, Paris 1961, ad 997–1004. 24 Guido Paduano, Studi su Apollonio Rodio, Roma 1972, 183. is an interiorized, psychological counterpart to the “rhetoric of objects”; here, the protagonists, too, are involved in creating and dechiphering the meaning of the myth. Still, the actual parallel lies beyond Jason’s manipu­ lative purposes: it is up to the reader who knows his Euripides to identify a tertium comparationis. And if one tries to trace an event analogous to the apotheosis of Ariadne’s crown in the later career of Medea, two rather gloomy events come to mind: – the final scene of Euripides’ tragedy, in which Medea escapes in a (serpent-drawn) chariot sent by her grandfather Helios, – the death of the Corinthian princess, who is consumed by fire after having put on the purple robe and the golden crown brought to her by Me­dea’s children. The fire that destroys the princess clearly suggests Medea’s divine ancestry, her gradfather Helios. Moreover, these two events are suggested by the use that Medea makes of Ariadne’s cloak in Book 4: she actually uses the cloak to lure her brother into a lethal trap. Again, one should recall that Ariadne, just like Medea, was a granddaughter of Helios. To summarize the argument, Apollonius adopted the theme of tal­ismanic magic from the archaic Argonaut myth. The Golden Fleece has always been considered as a symbolic object; it represented the material goal of the expedition, and it comprised its deeper essence. The Hellenistic poet emphasized, on one hand, the aesthetic aspect of the Fleece and of other magical objects, and, on the other, he charged them with second­ary symbolic meanings; he used them as effective vehicles of conveying meaning on the levels of narrative dramaturgy, psychology, and compo­sition, as interpretative keys revealing the underlying ambiguities of the story, the tragic contrast between appearance and reality. Catullus’s poem 64, “The marriage of Peleus and Thetis”, which no­toriously inspired Richard Strauss in his Ariadne auf Naxos, belongs to the tradition of short epic.25 The so-called Alexandrian epyllion is a pro­grammatic alternative to the large-scale heroic epic; it counters the tradi­tional mode of composing an epic by loosening its linear structure, and it systematically deceives the expectations of the reader accustomed to a continuous narration: after a solemn opening that seems to be promising “everything about the Argonauts” the narration may suddenly turn to a minor episode that is markedly unheroic and mostly erotic in character: in Theocritus’s Hylas Herakles leaves the Argo in the middle of the trip and misses its departure while searching for his beloved boy who has been 25 On the epyllium, Perutelli, op. cit. (n. 21); Kathryn J. Gutzwiller, Studies in the Hellenistic Epyllion, Meisenheim am Glan 1981 (Beiträge zur klassischen Philologie 114). kidnapped by the nymphs; finally, he reaches Colchis on foot (Theocr. Id. 13, 16–18.72–75): .... .te t. ...se... .p.e. µet. ..a. ..s.. ..s...da.. .. d. a.t. ...st.e. s...p..t. pas.. .. p..... p...e.e.µ.... .. .fe... t.. ... ..t. µ.. .....st.. ..a. µa..... ....µe.ta.. ..a..... d. ..e.. ..e.t.µe.. ..p..a.ta.. ...e.e. ....se t..a...t...... ..... pe.. d. .. ....... te .a. ..e... ..et. F.s... But when Iason, Aeson’s son, was sailing after the fleece of gold (and with him followed the champions, the first chosen out of all the cities, they that were of most avail) ... ... Thus loveliest Hylas is numbered with the Blessed, but for a runaway they girded at Heracles, the heroes, because he roamed from Argo of the sixty oarsmen. But on foot he came to Colchis and inhospitable Phasis. Following the same pattern, Catullus digresses from the expedition of the Argonauts in order to depict the scene of Peleus falling in love with the beautiful Nereid Thetis, who suddenly emerges from the depths of the sea (1–5.12–30): Peliaco quondam prognatae vertice pinus dicuntur liquidas Neptuni nasse per undas Phasidos ad fluctus et fines Aeeteos, cum lecti iuvenes, Argivae robora pubis, auratam optantes Colchis avertere pellem ... quae (sc. Argo) simul ac rostro ventosum proscidit aequor, tortaque remigio spumis incanuit unda, emersere freti candenti e gurgite vultus aequoreae monstrum Nereides admirantes. illa, haud ante alia, viderunt luce marinas mortales oculis nudato corpore Nymphas nutricum tenus exstantes e gurgite cano. tumThetidis Peleus incensus fertur amore, tumThetis humanos non despexit hymenaeos, tumThetidi pater ipse iugandum Pelea sensit. o nimis optato saeclorum tempore nati heroes, salvete, deum genus! o bona matrum progenies, salvete iterum, salvete, bonarum! vos ego saepe mero, vos carmine compellabo. Pine trees that grew upon Pelion’s peak, men say, floated once long ago through Neptune’s watery waves to the stream of Phasis and Aeetes’ realms, when chosen warriors, the flower of the Argive youth, eager to carry off from the Colchians the fleece of gold ... As soon as it ploughed with its beak the windy plain, and, churned by oars, the waves grew white with foam, forth from the whitening waters of the deep the marine Nereids lifted their faces in wonder at the sight. On that and on no earlier dawn did mortal eyes behold the unclad bodies of ocean nymphs rising breast-high above the gleaming main. Then for Thetis was Peleus inflamed with love, ’tis told, then did Thetis not disdain marriage with a mortal, thento Thetis the Father perceived must Peleus be yoked. O born in that too, too happy age of time, hail, heroes, progeny of gods! O noble sons of mothers noble, hail and hail again! You shall I oft toast with wine, you toast with song. However, the poem indirectly satisfies the expectations aroused by the proem by depicting a wonderful purple tapestry spread over the bridal bed of Peleus and Thetis: the coverlet shows not Medea but her double, Ariadne abandoned by Theseus on the island of Naxos (47–54.61–67):26 pulvinar vero divae geniale locatur sedibus in mediis, Indo quod dente politum tincta tegit roseo conchyli purpura fuco. haec vestis priscis hominum variata figuris heroum mira virtutes indicat arte. namque fluentisono prospectans litore Diae, Thesea cedentem celeri cum classe tuetur indomitos in corde gerens Ariadna furores ... saxea ut effigies bacchantis, prospicit, eheu, prospicit et magnis curarum fluctuat undis, non flavo retinens subtilem vertice mitram, non contecta levi velatum pectus amictu, non tereti strophio lactentes vincta papillas, omnia quae toto delapsa e corpore passim ipsius ante pedes fluctus salis alludebant. But the sacred marriage-couch of the goddess is placed in the midst of the mansion, fashioned of smooth Indic tusk and covered with purple 26 On Euripides’ Medea and Apollonius’s Argonautica as models for the mono­logue of Ariadne, see: Leo Curran, Catullus 64 and the Heroic Age, Studies in Latin Poetry, Yale Classical Studies 21, 1969, 169–192: 185; Ernst A. Schmidt, Catull, Heidelberg 1985, 84; David Konstan, Neoteric Epic: Catullus 64, in: Roman Epic, ed. Anthony J. Boyle, London, New York 1993, 59–78: 66 ff.; Ray J. Clare, Catullus 64 and the Argonautica of Apollonius Rhodius: Allusion and Exemplarity, Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society 42, 1996, 60–68. dyed with the shell’s rosy stain. This coverlet, embroidered with the figures of men of old, illustrates with wondrous art the brave deeds of heroes. For, looking forth from the wave-sounding shores of Dia, Ariadne sees Theseus departing with his swift craft, nursing in her heart uncontrollable fury ... Whom Minos’s daughter with sad eyes, afar from the weedy shore, like a Bacchant in marble, looks on, alas, looks on and is tossed upon great waves of emotion, notretaining on fair head her fine-spun snood, notleaving her bosom veiled by gossamer robe, not keeping her swelling breasts bound by the smooth band: all these garments, from all her body fallen here and there, before their mistress’s feet the salt waves lapped. The presence of Medea as a model is conjured up by a number of intertextual echoes. There is, for instance, something incongruous about the fact that Ariadne reproaches herself for having caused the death of her brother (150), the monstrous Minotaur, and this very incongruity calls to mind the model of Medea. Also, the apostrophe to Eros, which is closely modelled on Apollonius (see above), may remind the reader of the origi­nal context: in Apollonius, the apostrophe to Eros immediately follows Medea’s decision to murder her brother. Compare the Catullan passage (94–98): heu misere exagitans immiti corde furores, sancte puer, curis hominum qui gaudia misces, quaeque regis Golgos quaeque Idalium frondosum, qualibus incensam iactastis mente puellam fluctibus, in flavo saepe hospite suspirantem! Alas, you, who with cruel heart wretchedly excite passions, divine boy, who mix together human joys and sorrows, and you, queen, who rule Golgi and leafy Idalium, upon what billows ye tossed that soul-kindled maiden as she oft sighed for the golden-haired stranger! The inset narrative describing the story of Ariadne is far more than a mere description of a work of art.27 The sympathetic narrative voice lets Ariadne step out of the picture and become audible as a dramatic hero­ ine (or a miming actress) who performs a long dramatic aria. Catullus’s 27 See in particular Andrew Laird, Sounding out Ecphrasis: Art and Text in Cat­ullus 64, Journal of Roman Studies 83, 1993, 18–30; Julia Gaisser, Threads in the Labyrinth: Competing Views and Voices in Catullus 64, American Journal of Philology 116, 1995, 579–616. On the Roman Ecphrasis in general, Don P. Fowler, Narrate and Describe: The Problem of Ekphrasis, Journal of Roman Studies 81, 1991, 25–35; Andrew Laird, Ut figura poesis: Writing Art and the Art of Writing in Augustan Poetry, in: Art and Text in Roman Culture, ed. J. Elsner, Cambridge 1996, 75–102. description is inspired by the performative and visual arts,28 and it has inspired (alone or through Ovid’s Heroid) musical and visual artists from Monteverdi to De Chirico. It is characterized by a subtle interplay of the descriptive, dramatic (mimetic) and narrative modes, an interplay compel­ling the reader to reflect on “the versatility of poetic as opposed to plastic media”.29 Perhaps the best example of this experimental mixture of expressive modes is the description of Ariadne as saxea effigies Bacchantis (61). Ari­adne is “like a statue of a Bacchant made of stone”. It is not that the “picto­rial” mode would prevent her from moving and speaking: only a few lines later she runs into the sea, her hair escapes from under her bonnet, her breasts emerge from the drapery, her clothes slip from her into the sea, and the waves play with them at her feet. After that she “freezes” again and delivers a long monologue. The immobile heroine whom the narrative voice places on the shore as a statue of a Bacchant is not static because she is depicted on a tapes­ try; Ariadne is not an image but a living being paralysed by distress. It is a pure coincidence (and a telling paradox) that she should resemble a static and silent work of art. In contrast to the outward immobility and numbness,30 she is possessed by an inner bacchic frenzy, an inner storm (curarum fluctuat undis, “she is tossed upon great waves of emotion”), which is in turn a metaphorical reflection of the scene that we are sup­posed to see: a lonely island surrounded by the sea. But the most strik­ing feature about the interchange between immobility and (physical or psychic) movement, between silence and (physical or imagined) voice is that this interchange is only metaphorically related to different expressive modes: being (or describing) a statue is only a metaphor for (describing) momentary immobility or a (momentary) psychic state of “immobility”. The interchange between different expressive media is only apparent; it is subordinated to the vicissitudes of the story taking place on the imaginary stage and to the oscillations taking place inside the protagonist. In other words, the very interchange between the verbal and the visual illustrates the power of poetry to verbalize what the plastic arts can only suggest; by 28 Ariadne was the most popular mythological subject to be represented in Pom­ peian wall painting. Xenophon, Symp. 9,3–7, describes a pantomime on Ariadne and Dionysus; see Timothy Peter Wiseman, Catullus and His World, Cambridge 1985, 127 f., on the possibility of theatrical performance of Carmen 64. 29 Laird, op. cit. (n. 27), 21. 30 A further paradox emerges when taking bacchantis not as a noun but as a present participle. The verb bacchari means “to rave”, “to make a lot of noise”, “to cry Euhoe in the orgies” (cf. eheu at the end of the line). Cf. Laird, loc. cit.: “We are made to contemplate a plastic image of someone making a sound.” its ability to produce immediate illusions of sound and explicit illusions of movement, verbal art comes a step closer to a perfect illusion of life. It is significant, nevertheless, that Catullus conceived his literary Ge-samtkunstwerk as a “description” of a picture. As an extremely popular artistic subject, the story of Ariadne could evoke to the reader’s mind a whole gallery of mural paintings and sculptural artworks. After all, the most dangerous illusion produced by Catullus’s description is that such an illusion can actually be created by words. It may have become obvious from the parallel passages quoted above that the purple tapestry on the bridal bed of Peleus and Thetis is intended to recall the Apollonian cloak of Dionysus. In fact, the last tableau of Catullus’s embroidery shows Bacchus accompanied by raving Maenads (251–260): at parte ex alia florens volitabat Iacchus cum thiaso Satyrorum et Nysigenis Silenis, te quaerens, Ariadna, tuoque incensus amore. cui Thyades passim lymphata mente furebant euhoe bacchantes, euhoe capita inflectentes. harum pars tecta quatiebant cuspide thyrsos, pars e divulso iactabant membra iuvenco, pars sese tortis serpentibus incingebant, pars obscura cavis celebrabant orgia cistis, orgia quae frustra cupiunt audire profani. But elsewhere on the tapestry Iacchus in the bloom of youth was hastening with his troop of satyrs and Sileni Nysa-born, seeking you, Ariadne, and inflamed with love of you. At his bidding Maenadsall about were raving frenziedly crying ‘Evoe’in a tumult, ‘Evoe’as they tossed their heads. Of them some were brandishing wands with ivy-covered tips, some were scattering the limbs of a heifer torn to pieces, some were girding themselves with writhing snakes, some were processing with mystic emblems in deep caskets, emblems which the uninitiated vainly long to learn. Catullus’s poem is profoundly imbued with the tragic ambiguity of the Argonautic myth. The fact that the figure of Ariadne deserted on Naxos is embroidered on the marriage bed of a happy couple is disturbing: it casts some doubt on the sincerity of the initial address to the Heroes, especially since this passage is likewise modelled on Apollonius: it reproduces the formal hymnic address to the heroes that closes the poem. Furthermore, the theme of the immortalizing power of song, which evokes Apollonius’s Orpheus and the epilogue of the Argonautics, finds its tragic counterpoint in the very content of the Song of the Parcae, who reveal the future atroci­ties of the Trojan War and the death of its greatest hero (323–381). There is a further Argonautic model for the marriage scene: the wedding of Jason and Medea in Dionysus’s cave on Corcyra. The scene involves the nymphs of Pelion gazing at the golden fleece in holy awe, Orpheus intoning the wedding song, and the voice of the narrator com­menting upon the tragically ironic circumstances of the event.31 It has been observed that the Apollonian scene owes a debt to the poetic accounts of the wedding of Peleus and Thetis in the cave of Cheiron on Pelion:32 “The most famous thing about that wedding was the result, namely the birth of Achilles, and the implied contrast between Thetis’s glorious child and the fate of Medea’s children is bitterly ironical.”33 Catullus seems to be returning to Apollonius’ hidden model, to the ideal marriage of Peleus and Thetis. But the idyll is undermined by the very fact that the scene of the wedding has been transposed from Cheiron’s cave to the luxurious court of Pharsalus; the golden treasures exhibited there and the dazzling purple of the coverlet ominously recall the Golden Fleece and the Cloak of Dionysus; the purely aesthetic pleasure of the Thessalian peasants who ad­mire the tapestry is challenged by the intertextual presence of two magical objects from Apollonius’s Argonautica. There is, however, an important point of difference between Catul­lus and Apollonius. The ambiguity remains, but the objects have lost their original function and their pragmatic context. The proem promises an epic on the Argonauts, but Catullus concentrates on the love affair of Peleus, who is only a marginal member of the crew in the rest of the tradition. As the poem progresses, the expectations aroused by the proem are indirectly satisfied by the depiction of the coverlet; still, there is no causal connec­tion whatsoever between this series of tableaux. It is, rather, a symbolic unity based on imagistic links and subtle mirrorings, a unity that has more in common with visual arts than with narrative texts. One final example: in the middle of her speech Ariadne offers The­seus, who is already sailing back to Athens, her services as a maid in his new home: 160–163 attamen in vestras potuisti ducere sedes, quae tibi iucundo famularer serva labore, candida permulcens liquidis vestigia lymphis, purpureave tuum consternens veste cubile. 31 Domenico Braga, Catullo e i poeti greci, Messina, Firenze 1950, 160. 32 Vian, op. cit. (n. 20), 49 f. 33 Hunter, op. cit. (n. 3), 73 f. Yet at least you could have brought me to your house, to be your slave and serve you as a labour of love, bathing your bright feet with water from the spring or spreading the purple coverlet upon your bed. What Ariadne sees in her mind is an exact counterpart to the purple tapestry spread over the bed of the happy couple. The purpurea vestis clearly suggests the tragic ironies of Apollonius’s poem, the ambiguous Cloak of Dionysus and Jason’s manipulations of Ariadne’s story. Once again, though, the ominous magic object has been transformed into a men­tal image. What Ariadne visualizes as a purple coverlet is only a symbolic representation of Theseus’s betrayal, and we should not forget that Thetis’s bridal coverlet, too, is only a medium for a narrative recounted by the sympathetic narrative voice through the eyes of the heroine.34 It is intro­duced as a real object, but the story that it represents is causally unrelated to the story of Peleus the Argonaut, and the way it “tells” the story is very far from descriptive objectivity. It is not an aestheticized talisman but an illusory spectacle that strives to free itself from the bonds of textuality, a mental image conjured up by written text. As a focal point of the intertex­tual dialogue with Apollonius, however, it derives a good part of its em­blematic force from the archaic Argonautic myth, from the Golden Fleece and from Medea’s magic. 34 On the relation between the narrator (the persona of Catullus as vir mollis) and Ariadne, see Niklas Holzberg, Catull: Der Dichter und sein erotisches Werk, München 2002, 132 ff. Poetika argonavtske odprave: šamanizem, magija in umetnost POVZETEK Prispevek raziskuje literarno usodo dveh arhetipskih tem mita o argonav­tih, ki sta najbrž tako stari kot sama zgodba: transcendentna moc pesmi, ki jo pooseblja Orfej kot argonavt, in magija talismanov, ki jo udejanjajo zlato runo in drugi magicni predmeti, povezani z Medejino zgodbo. Orfiki so se pozneje sklicevali na Orfeja kot na voditelja odprave, toda Orfej je tudi izvorno povezan z eshatološko in iniciacijsko simboliko mita o Kir­kinem otoku Aja v deželi jutranjega sonca, v bližini vhoda v podzemlje. Prav tako je ocitna povezava med zgodbo o carodejki Medeji in talisman-sko simboliko zlatega runa; zastrupljeno oblacilo in zlati venec, s katerima Medeja povzroci ognjeno smrt Jazonove nove neveste, jasno spominjata na »najodlicnejši« magicni predmet, ki se ga je Jazon polastil s pomocjo kolhiške princese, vnukinje soncnega boga. Obe kljucni temi argonavtskega mita, magija pesmi in magija tali-smanov, ki ju kot antagonista poosebljata Orfej in Medeja, dobita v po­znejših obdobjih izrazito literarno ovrednotenje. Kozmologija Orfejeve pesmi v Argonavtikah Apolonija Rodoškega ima mocne metaliterarne poudarke. Poleg tega Apolonij tragicno dvolicnost argonavtskega mita po­nazarja tako, da bralcevo perspektivo neprestano širi proti tistemu delu zgodbe, ki ga njegova pesnitev sicer ne obsega vec, a je posredno prisoten v Medejinih tesnobnih slutnjah in v bralcevem literarnem spominu. Ma­gicni predmeti imajo pri razkrivanju teh skritih dvolicnosti prav posebno vlogo: Jazon in Medeja s škrlatnim porocnim peplosom Ariadne in Dio­niza zvabita v zasedo in umorita Medejinega brata Apsirta, in tudi sámo zlato runo kot provizoricno porocno ležišce v votlini na Drepani ironicno razodeva tragicno nasprotje med videzom in resnico. Najstarejša ohranjena pripoved o potovanju ladje Argo v rimski knji­ževnosti je Katulova Svatba Peleja in Tetide (c. 64). Katul po zgledu alek­sandrinske kratke epike (Teokrit, Id. 13) razbije linearnost argonavtskega mita in nadomesti potovanje v Kolhido in nazaj z dvema komplementar­nima eroticnima prizoroma, prizoroma srecne (Pelej in Tetida) in nesrec­ne ljubezni (Ariadna), ki sta le od dalec povezana z argonavti. Vendar se bralceva pricakovanja posredno izpolnijo v opisu umetnine, škrlatnega pregrinjala na porocni postelji Peleja in Tetide. Tkanina sicer ne prikazuje Medeje, prikazuje pa njeno dvojnico, Ariadno, ki jo je Tezej zapustil na otoku Naksos. Medbesedilna prisotnost obeh ominoznih magicnih pred­metov iz Apolonijevega epa skali vtis estetskega zadovoljstva, ki ga ob podobi obcutijo tesalski kmetje. Podobno tudi tema »ovekovecujoca moc pesmi«, ki jo Katul dolguje Apolonijevemu epilogu in deloma tudi Orfeje­vemu liku, najde tragicni kontrapunkt v vsebini pesmi Park, ki pod krinko porocnega veselja razkriva prihodnje zlocine trojanske vojne in smrt nje­nega najvecjega junaka. Omenjeni temi, estetika magicnih predmetov in ovekovecujoca moc poezije, sta naposled izhodišci pesmi kot literarnega eksperimenta, posvecenega ucinkom vizualne in zvocne percepcije v za­pisanem besedilu. Da Ipsipile a Zelmira RENATO RAFFAELLI L’Issipile di Pietro Metastasio, andata in scena per la prima volta nel 1732 a Vienna con le musiche di Francesco Conti, si rifŕ alla figura di un’eroina della mitologia classica assai nota, appunto Ipsipile, che secon- do le fonti antiche compare in due diverse saghe: quella degli Argonauti e quella tebana.* In quest’ultima, che si riferisce alla seconda parte della sua vita, Ipsipile, esule da Lemno, finisce al servizio del re di Nemea, Licurgo, che le affida la custodia del piccolo figlio, di nome Ofelte o Archemoro, a seconda delle fonti. Passano nei pressi di Nemea i Sette diretti a Tebe con il loro esercito – č questa della spedizione dei Sette la sezione del ciclo tebano in cui č presente la nostra eroina – e Ipsipile, per dare ascol-to ed aiuto alle richieste degli stranieri, poggia a terra il bambino, che viene aggredito e soffocato da un enorme serpente. La morte del picco­ lo, secondo molte fonti, sarebbe all’origine dell’istituzione dei giochi di Nemea. La sezione delle vicende di Ipsipile che č legata al mito degli Argo-nauti riguarda invece la prima parte della sua vita ed č anche quella che ci interesserŕ pidirettamente. Giasone e i suoi compagni fanno sosta nell’isola di Lemno nel corso del loro viaggio. Qui gli eroi trovano una situazione davvero singolare: l’isola č abitata soltanto da donne, con le quali per un certo tempo convivono, prima di riprendere il viaggio. A Giasone tocca di unirsi con la regina di quelle donne – che č la nostra Ipsipile –, di averne due figli e di abbandonarla al momento della par-tenza. Ma perché Lemno, al passaggio degli Argonauti, č completamente priva di uomini? Perché le donne, poco prima, hanno compiuto un orri-bile delitto, sterminando tutti i maschi dell’isola: le mogli hanno ucciso i mariti, le madri i figli, le figlie i padri. Questo misfatto, come č noto ai cultori della mitologia classica, era divenuto celebre nell’immaginario * Uso qui liberamente quanto giŕ da me esposto nella relazione Decus et patriae laus una ruentis, in Vicende di Ipsipile. Da Erodoto a Metastasio, a cura di R. Raffaelli, R. M. Danese, M. R. Falivene, L. Lomiento (Colloquio di Urbino, 5–6 maggio 2003), Urbino 2005, 123–140. dei Greci, tanto da condensarsi in una formula capace subito di signifi­carlo e di evocarlo: ..µ.... .a..., crimen Lemnium per i Romani. In veritŕ, non proprio tutte le donne dell’isola si sono macchiate del delitto. Ipsipile, di nascosto dalle altre, ha risparmiato il padre Toante, re di Lemno, e l’ha fatto fuggire per mare. Ella, dunque, non solo č del tutto esente dalla colpa delle altre donne, ma si rivela, all’opposto, un esempio di virt. In pieno contrasto con le altre Lemniadi, autrici di un delitto particolarmente atroce, Ipsipile, salvando il padre tra mille pericoli, si fa emblema di una virtů tra le piů grandi: la pietŕ filiale. Su questo aspetto č costruito il personaggio di Issipile da Metastasio, con molti spunti nuovi e con un importante ampliamento: quello di porre l’eroina nella condizione di non poter rivelare di aver salvato il padre – per non metterlo di nuovo a repentaglio – neppure alle persone care, e quindi di essere creduta e aborrita da queste persone come patricida. Una situa­zione tragica da manuale: la piů pura eroina della pietŕ filiale costretta dalle circostanze a farsi credere, anche da chi ama, colpevole del delitto piinfamante e pilontano dalla sua natura. Questo tratto dell’intreccio e della sofferenza dell’eroina, che non ha precisi riscontri nei precedenti classici, č fondamentale per la caratterizza­zione dell’Issipile di Metastasio e per gli sviluppi stessi degli avvenimenti e delle relazioni tra i personaggi del dramma, che inizia cosě (I, 1):1 ISSIPILE e RODOPE, coronate di pampini e armate di tirso. Schiera di Baccanti lontano ISS. Ah! per pietŕ del mio Giustissimo dolor, Rodope amica, Corri, vola, t’affretta, Salvami il padre. A queste sponde infami Digli che non s’appressi. A lui palesa Le congiure, i tumulti, Le furie femminili. ROD. E tu poc’anzi Non giurasti svenarlo? Io pur ti vidi Con intrepido volto Su l’are atroci … ISS. Io secondai fingendo D’Eurinome il furor. Vedesti come Forsennata e feroce in ogni petto Propagň le sue furie? E chi potea Un torrente arrestar? Sospetta all’altre Cito da Tutte le operedi Pietro Metastasio I, a cura di B. Brunelli, Milano 1943, 483; i corsivi, qui e in seguito, sono miei. Giŕ sedotte compagne, io non sarei Utile al padre. A comparir crudele M’insegnň la pietŕ. Giurava il labbro del genitor lo scempio, e in sua difesa Tutti gli dči sollecitava il core; E l’ardir del mio volto era timore … Che questo tratto della sua Issipile – accortamente sottolineato fin dall’inizio dall’acuto accostamento di ‘crudeltŕ’ e ‘pietŕ’, che sa di ossi­moro – sia un elemento centrale del dramma, Metastasio lo indica giŕ nell’Argomento rivolto al lettore:2 Issipile, che aborriva di versare il sangue paterno, né poté aver agio di avvertire Toante del suo pericolo prima che approdasse in Lemno, simulando il furor delle altre, nascose il genitore, e finse di averlo giŕ trucidato. Costpermolto alla virtuosa principessa questa pietosa menzogna: perché, creduta, le produsse l’aborrimento e il rifiuto di Giasone.3 Nel teatro moderno, con Metastasio e dopo di lui, la vicenda di Ip­sipile č stata vista come un modello esemplare di una virteccelsa ma non molto frequentata, appunto la pietŕ filiale. La domanda che vogliamo porci in queste pagine č di dove sia arrivata a Metastasio questa immagine (o gli spunti su cui costruirla) di sofferente eroina e testimone della pietas erga parentes. Ancora una volta, una prima indicazione ci viene offerta dall’Argo­mento dello stesso Metastasio, che si conclude con l’elenco delle fonti clas­ siche della storia di Ipsipile:4 Erodoto, libro VI, Erat.; Ovidio, Valerio Flacco, Stazio, Apollodoro ed altri. Nel passo di Erodoto (VI, 138) non c’č nulla che riguardi direttamen­te il gesto pietoso di Ipsipile, anche se la menzione di Toante permette di pensare che anche questo aspetto della vicenda fosse noto allo storico. Di Apollonio Rodio non c’č traccia nell’elenco di Metastasio, ma non possiamo ignorarlo. Nelle sue Argonautiche, si parla del salvataggio di Toante da parte della figlia (I, 620–623):5 2 Tutte le opere …, op. cit. (n. 1), 481. 3 In Metastasio Giasone non č, come nella tradizione, l’eroe che passa per Lemno con gli altri Argonauti, ma il promesso sposo di Issipile, venuto appunto a Lem- no per celebrare le nozze con la principessa. 4 Tutte le opere …, op. cit. (n. 1), 481. 5 Per gli autori greci mi limito qui a dare la traduzione italiana; quella di Apollo- nio č di Guido Paduano, Milano 1986. Sola fra tutte, Issipile risparmiil vecchio padre Toante, che regnava sul popolo, e gli offrě una speranza di scampo: abbandonato sul mare dentro una cassa, dei pescatori lo trassero a riva nell’isola Enoe. Si tratta, come si vede, di un semplice accenno, che mostra le linee nude ed essenziali della vicenda, senza considerazioni o valutazioni del gesto pietoso. Apollodoro, invece, č menzionato nell’elenco metastasiano. Nella sua Biblioteca troviamo di nuovo la notizia fattuale che Ipsipile ha salvato la vita al padre (I, 9, 7):6 Cosě disprezzate, le donne di Lemno uccidono i padri e i mariti; soltanto Ipsipile nascose suo padre Toante e gli salvla vita. Piů avanti (III, 6, 4) Apollodoro ci fa anche sapere che lo scopo di Ipsipile sarebbe stato raggiunto solo temporaneamente: Quando infatti le donne di Lemno erano venute a sapere che Toante era stato risparmiato, lo uccisero e vendettero Ipsipile. Nella versione di Apollodoro, dunque, il salvataggio di Toante č di breve effetto: in un secondo momento le donne di Lemno scoprono che non č morto e provvedono esse stesse a sostituirsi, nell’uccisione del re, alla figlia pietosa, vanificando il suo gesto. Si tratta, conviene dirlo subi-to, di una conclusione infausta, che contrasta nettamente con quella delle altre fonti. Passando agli autori latini dell’elenco di Metastasio, si puosservare che anche nelle Heroides di Ovidio la pietŕ filiale di Ipsipile non trova modo di essere sottolineata. L’eroina accenna infatti al salvataggio del padre, ma solo in opposizione alla malafede di Medea (Her. 6, 135):7 Prodidit illa patrem; rapui de clade Thoanta. Lei ha tradito suo padre; io ho strappato Toante al massacro. Gli autori antichi che pihanno offerto materiale all’Issipile di Meta-stasio sono quelli che nel suo elenco delle fonti seguono immediatamente Ovidio: Valerio Flacco e Papinio Stazio. Rovesciando l’ordine ed anche la cronologia comunemente accettata delle loro opere, diremo prima qualche cosa su Stazio e poi esamineremo il racconto di Valerio Flacco. 6 Traduzione di Maria Grazia Ciani, Milano 1996. 7 Traduzione di Gianpiero Rosati, Milano 1989. Nella Tebaide di Stazio č la stessa Ipsipile che a Nemea rievoca, ad Adrasto e agli altri capi diretti a Tebe, i terribili fatti di Lemno. Ancor prima di iniziare il racconto, Ipsipile accenna subito alla sua parte nel salvataggio del padre (V, 33–39):8 … O miserae, quibus hic furor additus! O nox! O pater! Illa ego nam, pudeat ne forte benignae hospitis, illa, duces, raptum quae sola parentem occului. Quid longa malis exordia necto? Et vos arma vocant magnique in corde paratus. Hoc memorasse sat est: claro generata Thoante servitium Hypsipyle vestri fero capta Lycurgi. O donne infelici su cui si abbattč quella follia! O notte! O padre! Son io infatti (perché non abbiate a vergognarvi dell’ospite pietosa), io sono quella, signori, che sola sottrasse e nascose suo padre. Ma perché premetto lunghi preamboli al racconto delle mie sventure? Le armi vi chiamano, e le grandi imprese che avete in mente. Basta che vi dica questo: sono Ipsipile, figlia dell’illustre Toante, e ora, fatta schiava, sono al servizio del vostro Licurgo. Il racconto dell’eccidio č pieno di particolari orrifici, con una spic-cata predilezione per il binomio sesso – morte, come nell’episodio di Eli-mo, trafitto alla schiena dalla moglie Gorge mentre, mezzo sveglio, mezzo ebbro, mezzo eccitato, la sta stringendo e, morente, continua a guardarla blandus adhuc (V, 216). Anche la descrizione dell’aristia di Ipsipile inizia in Stazio con un’im­magine orripilante, che riguarda un padre e che le ricorda subito il suo (V, 236–240): Ut vero Alcimeden etiamnum in murmure truncos ferre patris vultus et egentem sanguinis ensem conspexi, riguere comae atque in viscera saevus horror iit: meus ille Thoas, mea dira videri dextra mihi! Ma quando vidi Alcimede portare in mano la testa troncata del padre, che ancora mormorava, e la spada assetata di sangue, mi si rizzarono i capelli, e un brivido d’orrore mi penetrň nelle viscere: quello mi sembrň il mio Toante, quella la mia mano efferata! Al culmine della narrazione degli orrori, iniziata con la morte del fidanzato Gia (V, 222–224), Ipsipile č indotta dalla vista della testa del pa­dre di Alcimede, ancora gorgogliante e recata come macabro trofeo dalla Traduzione di Traglia e Aricň, Torino 1980. figlia stessa, a pensare a Toante, a vederlo in quella testa e a riconoscersi in quella mano. Č questo orribile spettacolo ad indurla a correre verso il palazzo di Toante per rivelargli la congiura delle donne e per salvarlo. Avvolti da una nube invisibile (V, 251), in mezzo a mucchi di cadaveri, senza sapere bene come fuggire, Ipsipile e Toante sono aiutati da Bac-co (V, 265–284), che indica loro un percorso sicuro per arrivare al mare, unica via di scampo. La fuga ha successo: giunti al mare, Ipsipile affida il padre a una piccola imbarcazione e ai venti che finalmente lo portano lontano dall’isola fatale. La pietŕ filiale di Ipsipile, nel racconto fatto da lei stessa, viene dun- que suscitata in un momento piuttosto avanzato, quando la strage č giŕ al culmine. Inoltre il salvataggio del padre non č interamente opera della figlia pietosa: č l’intervento diretto di Bacco che contribuisce in maniera decisiva alla fuga e alla salvezza di Toante. C’č poi un altro elemento in Stazio che sarŕ importante per gli svilup-pi successivi della storia di Ipsipile. Si tratta della simulazione da lei mes-sa in atto per far credere alle donne di Lemno che Toante non sia sfuggito, ma sia stato ucciso assieme a tutti gli altri uomini (V, 313–322): Ipsa quoque arcanis tecti in penetralibus alto molior igne pyram, sceptrum super armaque patris inicio et notas regum velamina vestes, ac prope maesta rogum confusis ignibus adsto, ense cruentato, fraudemque et inania busta plango metu, si forte premant, cassumque parenti omen et hac dubios leti precor ire timores. His mihi pro meritis, ut falsi criminis astu, parta fides, regna et solio considere patris – supplicium! – datur. Anch’io, nella parte piů nascosta del palazzo, costruisco una pira ardente, vi getto sopra lo scettro e le armi del padre, i ben noti abiti regali e sto presso il rogo, afflitta, davanti a quella pira disordinata, con la spada intrisa di sangue, e piango quella morte simulata, quel rogo vuoto, nel timore che mi sorprendano; e intanto prego che il presagio sia innocuo per il padre e che in tal modo si vanifichino le mie ansie, le mie paure di morte. Per questi meriti, perché lo stratagemma del falso delitto mi conquista fiducia, mi si offre (quale supplizio!) di assumere il regno, di sedere sul trono del padre. Passiamo ora alle Argonautiche di Valerio Flacco, che sono il testo che dŕ piů spazio e piů rilievo alla pietŕ filiale di Ipsipile e dal quale, per questo, deve essere stato influenzato, per primo, lo stesso Papinio Stazio. Nelle Argonautiche la gloria della figlia pietosa č cantata solenne­ mente da Valerio proprio all’inizio dell’aristia di Ipsipile, per essere affi-data ai posteri e all’immortalitŕ (II, 242–246):9 Sed ubi nunc quae digna tuis ingentibus ausis orsa feram, decus et patriae laus una ruentis, Hypsipyle? Non ulla meo te carmine dictam abstulerint, durent Latiis modo saecula fastis Iliacique lares tantique palatia regni. Ora, Issipile, come potrdegnamente cantare il tuo grande coraggio? La patria crollava: tu ne fosti la sola gloria, l’unico vanto. Nessuna epoca mai ti cancellerŕ – tu cantata nel mio poema, fin tanto che durino i tempi segnati nei Fasti di Roma, i focolari troiani, il grande palazzo imperiale. Alla solenne allocuzione segue il resoconto accurato dei fatti. Ipsipile ha una spada, ma la sua mano č giŕ ‘disarmata’ dalla pietŕ (II, 249: … pias armata manus); e invita subito Toante a fuggire, non soltanto dalla cittŕ, ma da lei stessa (II, 249–250: … fuge protinus urbem / meque, pater). Se in Stazio Ipsipile matura piuttosto tardi la decisione di risparmiare il padre, in Valerio la donna mostra qualche incertezza ancora nel momento supremo (II, 252–253): Iam fuge, iam dubiae donum rape mentis et ensem tu potius, miser, oro, tene! Adesso fuggi, sě, fuggi! Approfitta di quello che la mia anima ancora perplessa ti dona. La spada, o infelice, ti prego, al mio posto tienila tu. Quanto alla fuga, essa in Valerio Flacco occupa un largo spazio nel racconto. Inoltre non si giova del suggerimento di un dio: č Ipsipile che escogita lo stratagemma di celare il padre sotto un panno che veste la statua di Bacco e poi, trascorsa la notte funesta, di metterlo su un carro, coperto dai paramenti e dalla corona del dio, in mezzo agli arredi sacri. Cosě, come celebrando una processione in onore di Bacco, riesce a con-durre Toante, senza sospetti, fino a un bosco discosto dalla cittŕ. A quel bosco, poi, ella ha timore anche solo di appressarsi, per non mettere a rischio il segreto. Finché non si imbatte in una imbarcazione malconcia Traduzione di FrancoCaviglia, Milano 1999 (segnalo qui che piů avanti, a pro-posito di II, 300–301, ho dovuto apportare qualche ritocco). e abbandonata: su di essa, pur esitante, riesce infine a far salire e a far fuggire il padre (II, 288–289): Huc genitorem altae per opaca silentia noctis praecipitem silvis rapit … Nell’ombroso silenzio di una notte profonda toglie in fretta suo padre dal bosco, lo porta alla nave. Il racconto si conclude con l’arrivo di Toante in un luogo sicuro (II, 300–303): … Ille procul trunca fugit anxius alno Taurorumque locos delubraque saeva Dianae advenit. Hic illum tristi, dea, praeficis arae ense dato. Sopra la mutila nave suo padre fugge lontano, ansiosamente, e perviene alla regione dei Tauri, ai santuari terribili dedicati a Diana. La dea lo fa sacerdote dell’altare crudele e gli affida una spada. Dopo questa tappa, Valerio lo fa giungere fino nel Lazio, ad Ariccia, nel santuario latino di Diana Nemorense, ma questa – come si dice – č un’altra storia.10 I riferimenti al salvataggio del padre in Valerio Flacco non finiscono qui. Moltopiůavanti,almomentodellapartenzadaLemnodegliArgonauti, Ipsipile dona a Giasone un mantello tutto ricamato. Il primo soggetto che vi č rappresentatočpropriolafugaavventurosadiToante(II,410–414): Illic servati genitoris conscia sacra pressit acu currusque pios: stat saeva paventum agmina dantque locum; viridi circum horrida tela silva tremit; mediis refugit pater anxius umbris. Qui ha tracciato con l’ago i complici riti che hanno salvato suo padre, e quel carro devoto: le terribili schiere, impaurite, lasciano spazio; verde, un’orrida selva freme vasta all’intorno; fugge il padre, affannato, nel folto dell’ombra. 10 Argon. II, 303–305.Anche questo trasferimento del personaggio in ambiente latino č un segno del grande rilievo che per Valerio Flacco ha la vicenda di Ipsipile. Il poema di Valerio Flacco, si puquindi riassumere, ha un’impor­ tanza decisiva nella formazione e nell’articolazione del racconto del gesto pietoso di Ipsipile. Lo mette in rilievo come nessun testo – almeno tra quelli pervenutici – aveva fatto fino ad allora: particolarmente notevoli, a questo riguardo, l’elogio iniziale e l’ekphrasis conclusiva. Inoltre la narra­zione di Valerio ha rappresentato prestissimo un modello produttivo: come s’č accennato, giŕ Stazio sembra esserne stato influenzato, nell’idea stessa di inserire un’aristia sul tema nel racconto di Ipsipile e, forse, nel ricorrere ancora a Bacco, questa volta non come simulacro, ma come apparizione, per sciogliere il nodo della fuga di Toante. DopoValerioFlaccoeStazio,lafamadiIpsipilecomefigliapietosasi fa predominante e questa virtappare sempre pila principale caratteristica della figura mitica della principessa di Lemno. Ce lo mostra la raccolta mi-tologica di Igino. Oltre a riferire largamente in Fabulae,15gliavvenimenti di Lemno (in una versione vicina a quella di Valerio Flacco: cfr. l’arrivo di Toante nella Tauride) e in Fab. 74 i fatti di Nemea, in Fab. 254 Igino pone Ipsipile nel numero di coloro quae piissimae fuerunt vel piissimi: Hypsipyle Thoantis filia patri, cui vitam concessit. Ipsipile verso il padre Toante, a cui salvla vita. Nello stesso elenco compare, tra le piissimae anche la giovane donna (di nome Santippe in Igino) che salva il padre Micone dandogli il latte del suo seno.11 Un’altra testimonianza si trova in un epigramma dell’Anthologia La­tina, che fa parte del gruppo dei cosiddetti versi echoici o serpentini e che si data tra la fine del V e l’inizio del VI secolo d. Cr. L’epigramma, ch’io sappia, non č stato utilizzato finora in rapporto ad Ipsipile, anche perché il nome della principessa non vi compare:12 De Lemniadibus Funera Lemniadum nescit miserata Thoantis sola tamen sensit funera Lemniadum. Ai delitti delle donne di Lemno non prende parte colei che ebbe pietŕ di Toante; 11 Cfr. Renato Raffaelli, Due incroci per Zelmire, in: Allattamento filiale: la for-tuna, a cura di R. M. Danese, D. De Agostini, R. Raffaelli, G. Zaganelli (Collo- quio di Urbino, 28–29 aprile 1998), Urbino 2000, 135. 12 Cito da Anonymi Versus serpentini, rec. Loriano Zurli, trad. Nino Scivoletto, Roma 2002, numero 27, 14 (ho lievemente ritoccato la traduzione per riprodur- re l’eco). tuttavia lei sola subisce le conseguenze dei delitti delle donne di Lemno. La conoscenza del gesto pietoso di Ipsipile dall’etŕ antica arriva al medio evo. Ce lo mostra Dante, che nel cerchio dei fraudolenti colloca il seduttore Giasone (Inferno, 18, 82–96): E ‘l buon maestro sanza mia dimanda mi disse: Guarda quel grande che vene, e per dolor non par lagrima spanda: quanto aspetto reale ancor ritene! Quelli č Ias, che per cuore e per senno li Colchi del monton privati féne. Ello passper l’isola di Lenno, poi che l’ardite femmine spietate tutti li maschi loro a morte dienno. Ivi con segni e con parole ornate Isifile ingannň, la giovinetta che prima avea tutte l’altre ingannate.13 Lasciolla quivi, gravida, soletta; tal colpa a tal martiro lui condanna; e anche di Medea si fa vendetta. Piů ampio ed esplicito č il riferimento alla devozione filiale di Ipsipile nel De mulieribus claris di Boccaccio. Questa virtč messa subito in luce all’inizio della narrazione (Mul. 16, 1):14 Ysiphiles insignis fuit femina, tam pietate in patrem quam infelici exilio … Isifile fu resa famosa dalla pietŕ verso il padre, dall’infelice esilio ... Dopo aver raccontato della congiura e del delitto delle Lemniadi, Boccaccio parla dell’eccezione di Isifile (16, 4–5): Sane, sevientibus reliquis, consilium mitius menti Ysiphilis occurrit; nam rata fedari paterno sanguine inhumanum fore, genitori detecto reliquarum facinore eoque in navim demisso ut Chium effugeret publicam iram, evestigio, ingenti constructo rogo, se patri postremum exhibere finxit officium. Quod, cum crederetur a cunctis, patrio imposita throno, loco regis, impiis mulieribus regina suffecta est. 13 Č evidente, qui, la conoscenza dell’inganno del finto rogo di Stazio. 14 Cito da Giovanni Boccaccio, Tutte le opere X, De mulieribus claris, a cura di V. Zaccaria, Milano 1967. Per altri passi e altra informazione su Boccaccio vd. ora Enzo Cecchini, Giovanni Boccaccio da Dante a Stazio, in Vicende di Ipsipile…, op. cit. (n. *), 217–225. Ma mentre tutte le altre infierivano, un piů mite consiglio venne alla mente di Isifile. Ella, che riteneva inumano macchiarsi del sangue paterno, svelal padre il delitto delle altre e lo imbarcsu una nave, diretta a Chio, per farlo sfuggire all’ira publica; poi immediatamente innalzň un rogo e finse di rendere al padre morto l’ultimo ossequio. Tutte le donne le credettero e Isifile fu posta sul trono del padre e creata regina di quelle empie donne. Qui la dipendenza da Stazio č manifesta: la destinazione a Chio (cfr. Theb. V, 486–487), il falso rogo e la conseguente rinomanza di Isifile, fat-ta regina in séguito a questo, ne sono prova evidente. Il Boccaccio, quanto alla pietas erga parentes, non si limita a questo. Coglie infatti l’occasione per fare un ampio elogio di questa virtů (16, 6–7): Sanctissima quippe filiorum pietas in parentes est; quid enim decentius, quid iustius, quid laudabilius quam his humanitate atque honore vices reddere, quorum labore invalidi alimenta sumpsimus, solertia tutati sumus et amore incessabili in provectiorem etatem deducti et instructi moribus et doctrina necnon honoribus atque facultatibus aucti, et ingenio valemus et moribus? Nil equidem! Que cum ab Ysiphile inpensa sint cum cura parenti, non immerito illustribus addita mulieribus est. Č santissimo l’amore dei figli verso i genitori. Davvero nulla č piconveniente, pigiusto, pilodevole che rendere, onorandoli generosamente, il ricambio a coloro per le cui fatiche, ancora teneri, abbiamo ricevuto il nutrimento, dalla cui sollecitudine siamo stati difesi e dal cui amore incessantemente siamo stati condotti all’etŕ matura e istruiti nel costume e nella dottrina, e inoltre accresciuti negli onori e nelle ricchezze, e per il cui aiuto siamo validi d’ingegno e di costumi. Questo dovere fu assolto con sollecitudine da Isifile nei confronti del padre: e meritamente perciň io ho aggiunto la giovanetta al numero delle donne illustri. Come si vede, con Boccaccio tocchiamo un altro vertice della tradi­ zione che fa di Ipsipile un’eroina simbolo della pietŕ filiale: č proprio per questa sua virtche la principessa č stata inserita nella duratura galleria delle donne illustri. Questo percorso, che abbiamo seguito in modo sin troppo rapido, conduce fino a Pietro Metastasio, che dell’eroina della pietŕ filiale, come s’č detto all’inizio, fa la protagonista di un suo dramma. Nell’Issipile Me-tastasio costruisce, su alcuni spunti che gli vengono dalla tradizione, una trama molto innovativa, con l’inserzione di personaggi del tutto nuovi (per es. Learco) e di molte situazioni assolutamente originali (per es. la passio­ne di Learco per Issipile; l’odio di Eurinome, madre di Learco, per Toante; l’amore di Rodope per Learco; ecc.). Ma al classicista compete non tanto di esaminare le novitŕ di Meta-stasio, quanto, ove possibile, di ritrovare le tracce della tradizione antica: farň dunque alcune considerazioni rivolte in questa direzione. Diciamo subito che su Metastasio hanno influito insieme Valerio Flacco e Stazio. Una riprova č nel personaggio di Eurinome, il cui nome viene da Valerio Flacco, ma la cui importanza e la cui funzione di corifea della congiura delle donne rinviano piuttosto alla Polisso di Stazio. L’idea che Ipsipile, nel momento della strage, avesse un fidanzato, Metastasio la poteva trovare in Stazio (lo sfortunato Gia: Theb. V, 222–224): naturalmente trasforman-do questo fidanzato, ignoto, nel notissimo amante successivo, Giasone. In Valerio Flacco, d’altra parte, Metastasio ha trovato il nascondiglio di Toante: questi infatti si č riparato in un “boschetto sacro a Diana”, che cor­risponde perfettamente alla prima tappa delle peripezie del Toante di Va-lerio, che, si ricorderŕ, non viene condotto subito al mare, come quello di Stazio. Il boschetto di Diana, oltretutto, ha una funzione importante nella drammaturgia di Metastasio: vi avvengono origliamenti, incontri inattesi, scambi di persona ed equivoci di vario genere, che hanno conseguenze decisive sugli sviluppi dell’intreccio. Ma l’elemento piů caratterizzante dell’Issipile di Metastasio č – l’ab­biamo fortemente sottolineato all’inizio – nella “pietosa menzogna” che ha dovuto sostenere per salvare il padre e che, “creduta, le produsse l’abor­rimento e il rifiuto di Giasone”. Č attorno a questo perno che ruotano gli avvenimenti e i sentimenti che riguardano Issipile, e riluce soprattutto qui la grandezza di questa eroina dolente ma ferma, che deve sopportare una fama che non solo non merita, ma che č del tutto all’opposto delle sue virte della sua singolarissima pietŕ. Anche per questo, Metastasio ha potuto trovare precedenti e stimoli in Stazio e in Valerio Flacco. Nel primo c’č il passo, che abbiamo giŕ segnalato sopra, in cui Ipsipile racconta dell’inganno del falso rogo in cui ha gettato gli oggetti regali e gli abiti del padre, facendo credere di averlo ucciso e guadagnandosi cosě la fiducia delle donne di Lemno (Theb. V, 320–21: ut falsi criminis astu / parta fides). Non c’č bisogno di dire come possa partire da qui la situazione di Metastasio, che su questa fiducia delle Lemniadi ha potuto facilmente costruire anche la ‘sfiducia’ di Giasone verso la povera Issipile. A favorire questo passaggio, tuttavia, puaver contribuito in modo rilevante un luogo non di Stazio, ma di Valerio Flacco: č il passo in cui Ipsipile si chiede, tristemente, se ci sarŕ mai un giorno in cui, invece di doverlo nascondere, potrŕ finalmente andar fiera, davanti agli occhi di tutti, di aver salvato il padre (Argon. II, 298–299): Quando ego servato mediam genitore per urbem laeta ferar? Quando potrň avanzarmi lieta per la cittŕ, perché ho salvato mio padre? Come abbiamo giŕ accennato, č precisamente in questo conflitto tra veritŕ ed apparenza, tra una virtů inconfessabile e una malvagitŕ simulata, la contraddizione che č a fondamento delle incomprensioni e delle soffe­renze dell’Issipile metastasiana, caratterizzandone i moti e gli atteggia­menti per la pigran parte del dramma. Č il momento di avviarsi a concludere. L’Issipile di Metastasio, dopo la prima viennese del 1732, per tutto il Settecento e ancora nei primi anni dell’Ottocento fu messa in musica da molti altri compositori, alcuni dei quali molto celebri (per es. Gluck, Porpora, Gassmann). Ma la sua for-tuna nel teatro musicale percorse anche vie meno dirette. Attraverso una tragedia francese di Dormont de Belloy (Zelmire, Parigi 1762), infatti, il dramma di Metastasio ‘trapassň’ nel libretto di Leone Tottola per la Zel­mira di Gioachino Rossini (Napoli 1822). Ecco come de Belloy, volendo porre al centro della sua tragedia una virtche nel teatro, a suo dire, non aveva lo spazio che meritava, appunto la pietŕ filiale, scelse di riunire in una medesima azione quello che la storia e la leggenda hanno tramandato di piů eroico sulla devozione dei figli verso i loro genitori. La storia (nella fattispecie, il repertorio dei Factorum et dictorum memorabilium libri di Valerio Massimo) gli offre l’esempio della giovane donna che, per salvare il padre condannato a morire d’inedia, escogita lo stratagemma di nutrirlo attaccandolo al seno;15 il mito gli offre le peripezie della pietosa Ipsipile che, sola tra le donne di Lemno, si sottrae al loro disegno delittuoso, prima nascondendo e poi mettendo in salvo il vecchio padre Toante. I due episodi esemplari, appartenenti entrambi alla tradizione classi-ca, sono attribuiti alla medesima eroina (Zelmire, figlia del re di Lesbo)16 e vengono inseriti in un’unica azione da de Belloy, ma con modalitŕ mol-to diverse. Il primo motivo, quello dell’allattamento della figlia al padre, viene collocato nell’antefatto e, pur richiamato pivolte alla memoria, non entra propriamente nella dinamica degli accadimenti scenici: ha sě 15 Sul tema della giovane donna che salva il padre (o la madre) attaccandolo al seno cfr., oltre il volume citato a n. 11, Pietas e allattamento filiale. La vicenda, l’exemplum, l’iconografia, a cura di R. Raffaelli, R. M. Danese, S. Lanciotti (Colloquio di Urbino, 2–3 maggio 1996), Urbino 1997; Renato Raffaelli, Vale-rio Massimo e la fortuna dell’allattamento filiale, in: Lac d’amour. Il latte e i suoi derivati, a cura di O. Longo, C. Cremonesi, Padova 2002, 353–382. 16 Lesbo, oltre a non essere geograficamente troppo lontana da Lemno, le č foni­camente piuttosto vicina. Ne č tuttavia lontanissima quanto all’atmosfera che la seconda immediatamente evoca: quella della strage degli uomini, che de Belloy esclude del tutto dal suo dramma. una funzione importante, ma solo emblematica, quella di dare la misura e, soprattutto, di simboleggiare e segnare l’acme della straordinaria pietŕ filiale dell’eroina. Il secondo, quello della figlia che sottrae e nasconde il padre a chi vorrebbe ucciderlo, costituisce invece il nocciolo della trama, la nervatura principale di tutta la vicenda che viene portata in scena. E inoltre, mentre per il primo episodio de Belloy attinge direttamente alla principale fonte antica, cioč a Valerio Massimo, per la storia di Ipsipile egli non attinge direttamente alle fonti classiche, ma alla moderna Issipile di Pietro Metastasio. Ci troviamo cosě di fronte a un dramma per musica (l’Issipile di Me-tastasio, 1732) che dopo trent’anni diviene il modello principale di una tragedia (la Zelmire di de Belloy, 1762), la quale a sua volta, dopo altri sessant’anni, diventa il modello principale di un’altra opera musicale, la Zelmira di Rossini-Tottola (1822). Tocchiamo cosě con mano un percorso piuttosto singolare: un libretto d’opera che, attraverso una tragedia regola-re, č ritornato a farsi libretto, senza mutare le fondamentali caratteristiche dell’azione e della protagonista, ma cambiando l’ambientazione e il nome dell’eroina. Da Lemno a Lesbo, e, soprattutto, da Issipile a Zelmira. Od Hipsipile do Zelmire POVZETEK Hipsipila (Issipile) Pietra Metastasia, ki je bila prvic uprizorjena na Duna­ju leta 1732 z glasbo Francesca Contija, je predelava sicer dovolj znanega klasicnega mita o Hipsipili. Po anticnih virih je nastopala v dveh razlicnih zgodbah: v legendi o argonavtih in tisti o sedmerici proti Tebam. V drugi zgodbi, ki se nanaša na poznejše življenje te miticne osebe, je bila z Lemnosa pregnana Hipsipila v službi nemejskega kralja Likurga, ki ji je zaupal varstvo sincka Ofelta. Ko je v bližini Nemeje potovala sedme­rica, ki je bila s svojo vojsko namenjena v Tebe, je Hipsipila v želji, da jim prisluhne in pomaga, decka postavila na tla, kjer ga je napadla in zadušila strupena kaca. Deckova smrt je bila po mnogih anticnih virih povod za zacetek nemejskih iger. Del legende, ki je v mitu o argonavtih posvecen doživljajem Hipsi-pile, se dotika njene mladosti in je neposredni vir Metastasievega libreta. Jazon in njegovi tovariši so se na poti ustavili tudi na otoku Lemnosu. Tam so junaki naleteli na izjemen položaj, saj so na otoku prebivale zgolj ženske. Preden so nadaljevali potovanje, so z njimi nekaj casa bivali v sožitju. Jazonu je bilo namenjeno, da se združi s tamkajšnjo kraljico, našo Hipsipilo, s katero je imel dvojcka, ki pa ju je zapustil in sam nadaljeval pot do Kolhide. In zakaj na Lemnosu ob prihodu argonavtov ni bilo moških? Zato, ker so le malo prej žene surovo pobile soproge, matere sinove in hcere ocete. Ta zlocin je bil, kot je strokovnjakom za klasicno mitologijo znano, že v ospredju zanimanja anticnih Grkov, ki so ga pregovorno poimeno­vali »zlocin Lemnijk« ali ..µ.... ..... (crimen Lemnium za poznejše latince). Tega zlocina v resnici niso zagrešile prav vse otocanke. Hipsipila je na skrivaj prizanesla svojemu ocetu Toantu, lemnijskemu kralju, in mu pomagala pobegniti po morju. Ona torej v primerjavi z drugimi ženskami ni zagrešila zlocina in se je celo izkazala za izjemno hcerko. V popolnem nasprotju z drugimi vršilkami tega grozljivega zlocina Hipsipila, ki tiso-cerim nevarnostim navkljub reši oceta, postane eden najvecjih simbolov kreposti: hcerinskega usmiljenja. Prav s tega zornega kota je lik Hipsipile pri Metastasiu predstavljen z dodanimi novimi namigi in s pomembnimi razširitvami: junakinja niti najbližjim osebam ne sme razkriti dejstva, da je rešila oceta, ne da bi ga pri tem spravila v hudo nevarnost. Zato ostane skrito tudi dejstvo, da se ni omadeževala s splošnim zlocinom. Gre za vzorcno tragicno junakinjo: je neomadeževana, vendar v oceh tudi sebi najdražjih oseb kriva najstrašnej­šega možnega zlocina. Metastasieva drama je bila celotno 18. in celo še v zacetku 19. stoletja deležna številnih uglasbitev. Nekatere so bile umetnine najslavnejših oper­nih skladateljev, na primer Glucka, Porpore, Gassmanna idr. Njene poti do glasbenega gledališca pa so bile tudi manj neposredne. Vmesni clen je bila francoska tragedija Dormonta de Belloyja (Zelmire, Pariz, 1762). Meta-stasieva drama pa je pozneje preko libreta Leoneja Tottore odmevala tudi v operi Zelmira Gioacchina Rossinija (Neapelj, 1822). De Belloy se je v želji, da v osrednjem delu svoje tragedije predstavi do tedaj malo obrav­navano vrlino hcerinskega usmiljenja, odlocil, da v zgodbi združi vse, kar je v legendi in v mitu najbolj junaškega v vdanosti otrok svojim staršem. Zgodba, kot jo beremo v delu Factotum et dictorum memorabilium libri Valeria Massima, predstavlja mladenko, ki se, da bi rešila svojega oceta smrti od gladu, zatece k zvijaci in ga hrani na svojih prsih. Legenda govori o prigodah vdane Hipsipile, ki se edina na Lemnosu odpove zlocinskemu pocetju in se najprej domisli zvijace, nato pa reši starega oceta Toanta. Dve eksemplaricni prigodi, ki pripadata klasicni mitološki tradiciji, sta bili pripisani tudi junakinji Zelmiri (hcerki kralja otoka Lezbos) in ju je v svojo tragedijo vkljucil de Belloy, ceprav v drugacni obliki in združeni v enotno dejanje. Prva zgodba, o dojenju oceta, je prikljucena prejšnjemu dejanju in je v funkciji simbolicnega spomina na hcerinsko vdanost juna­kinje. Druga govori o hceri, ki zasnuje in izpelje ocetovo rešitev pred umo­rom. To je tudi jedro in vrhunec drame. Zanimivo je, da se je de Belloy pri Zelmiri navdihoval neposredno pri klasicnem viru, pri Valeriju Massimu, medtem ko se je pri Hipsipili naslonil na zgodnejši Metastasiev libreto. V našem primeru imamo tako prvotno opero (Metastasievo Hipsipilo iz leta 1732), ki je postala glavni vir tragediji (Zelmira de Belloyja, 1762). Ta je pozneje postala model nekega drugega opernega dela Zelmire, ploda sodelovanja med Tottolo in Rossinijem (1822). Gre za sicer izjemen slucaj, ko se je operni libreto preko gledališke tragedije povrnil v obliki novega libreta, ne da bi se spremenile osnovne znacilnosti mitoloških dejanj juna­kinje; zamenjano je bilo le ime, iz Hipsipile v Zelmiro. Dramaturgical Setting, Representation of Characters and the Mythological Basis in Giacinto Andrea Cicognini’s and Francesco Cavalli’s Giasone HENDRIK SCHULZE Giacinto Andrea Cicognini’s and Francesco Cavalli’s Giasone was prob­ably the most successful opera of the seventeenth century. We know of at least twenty-two different productions throughout Italy following its premičre in 1649, and some took place even as late as the 1690s.1 It soon became the epitome of Italian opera in the Venetian style. More than a hun­ dred years later, in 1783, Esteban Arteaga wrote in his book Le rivoluzioni del teatro musicale italiano that it was not only the perfect example of that style (which he despised) but also the very first opera completely in that style, and thus the cause for the decline of the genre as he saw it.2 To a purist such as Arteaga Giasone can indeed seem bizarre and ridiculous. Cicognini had to make many alterations vis-ŕ-vis the classi­ cal sources to fit the subject to the conventions of Venetian opera, which – despite Arteaga’s assumptions – had by 1649 already become well es­tablished. The first problem was the epic character of the story with its complex plot structure that necessitated a radical alteration of the narra­tive structure in order to comply with the classical dramatic unities of ac­tion, time and place. Another serious problem was the apparent or inherent tragic ending of the marriage between Jason and Medea, which within Venetian conventions would make it unfit for the stage.3 Finally, the sub­ 1 See Claudio Sartori, I libretti italiani a stampa dalle origini al 1800. Catalogo analogico con 16 indici, Cuneo 1990; Hendrik Schulze, Cavalli, [Pier] France­sco, in: Die Musik in Geschichte und Gegenwart, Personenteil, ed. L. Finscher, vol. 4, Kassel 2000, 471–484. 2 Cited in: Esteban Arteaga, Geschichte der italiänischen Oper. Aus dem Italiä­ nischen übersetzt und mit Anmerkungen begleitet von Johann Nicolaus Forkel, Leipzig 1789, reprint Hildesheim 1973, vol. 1, 324–325: “Der schon angeführte Cicognini trug gegen die Mitte des Jahrhunderts die damals in anderen drama- tischen Poesien gewöhnlichen Fehler ins Melodrama über, vereinigte ernsthafte Begebenheiten und Personen mit lächerlichen, unterbrach prosaische Szenen mit poetischen Strophen, die man Arien nennt, mischte Prosa unter poetische Szenen, verwirrte alle Ordnung der Poesie, und verstümmelte das italiänische Melodrama auf eine erbärmliche Art. Nichts desto weniger wurde er zu seiner Zeit für den Wiederhersteller des Theaters gehalten; [...]” 3 See Norbert Dubowy, Dramma per musica. A. 17. Jahrhundert, in: Die Musik ject involved too many characters for an audience to keep track of, were they all to appear on stage – the Argonauts alone numbered almost fifty persons. During the 1640s librettists and composers had discovered that it was not a workable strategy to adapt epic subjects and models of narration for use in the genre of opera. As Monteverdi had discovered in his Ritorno d’Ulisse in patria of 1640, epic models for depicting main characters ham­pered his goal of using the full variety of musical language he had at his disposal.4 For maximum variety, either the main characters had to be am­bivalent or the librettist had to invent a great range of different characters.5 The result was either a conflict with the strong allegorical content that was requisite in the epic,6 since the ambivalent protagonist could not rea­sonably represent a single, comprehensible allegory, or a twisted, uneven plot with too many characters to remember.7 In either case, unity of action could not be achieved. The librettist Giovanni Faustini had in 1642 accordingly developed a model that based its unity of action on a nucleus of amorous relationships between four characters. This model proved to be very successful, and soon other librettists took it over.8 According to this model, the principal characters divide into two cou­ples, who at the beginning of the plot are in some respect in disarray. The ensuing plot consists of various intrigues that rectify the situation. At the endorderisrestored.Whilemuchmoreappropriateformusicaldramathan the earlier epic models, this kind of plot structure favoured invented plots overstoriestakenfromepicsources.Henceitislittlesurprisethatlibrettists chose to use invented plots for the majority of their works. Leaving aside in Geschichte und Gegenwart, Sachteil, ed. L. Finscher, vol. 2, Kassel 1995, 1452–1479: 1460; Ellen Rosand, Opera in Seventeenth-Century Venice. The Creation of a Genre, Berkeley 1991, 61–62. 4 See Hendrik Schulze, Odysseus in Venedig. Sujetwahl und Rollenkonzeption in der venezianischen Oper des 17. Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt a. M. 2004, 97–147. 5 See Hendrik Schulze, Odysseus in Venedig. Sujetwahl und Rollenkonzeption in der venezianischen Oper des 17. Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt a. M. 2004, 211–266. 6 The way in which this is achieved in Giasone is described in Michele Curnis, “... Vantaggioso patto toccar con gl’occhi e rimirar col tatto”. Drammaturgia, poetica, retorica nel “Giasone” di G. A. Cicognini, Musica e storia 12, 2004, 35–90: 55–57. 7 Orazio Persiani’s and Francesco Cavalli’s Le nozze di Teti e di Peleo of 1639 is a perfect example of this phenomenon, since it has more than ten active protago­nists, not counting at least sixteen secondary characters. 8 See Ellen Rosand, Opera in Seventeenth-Century Venice. The Creation of a Genre, Berkeley 1991, 173. L’Egisto (1643) Ormindo (1644) La Calisto (1651) Calisto Giove Calisto Giove Diana Endimione Diana Endimione Disorder Order Table 1. Plot structure of some of Giovanni Faustini’s librettos (normal arrow = character is in love with; dotted arrow = character imagines himself/herself to be in love with; hollow arrowhead = real subject of attention; line at right angles to direction of arrow = love rejected). Faustini’sownIl Titone (1645),Giasone isthefirstlibrettowithanepicsub­ject that makes use of the kind of plot structure developed by Faustini.9 By so doing, Cicognini also solved the other problems of the subject mentioned above. Four ambivalent primary protagonists are as many as an audience can follow – any more would lead to confusion. The other characters become ipso facto secondary characters and can be depicted without any loss of credibility as stereotypes rather than as ambivalent personalities. Placing the emphasis on the love intrigue automatically pro­ vides unity of action while making it possible to condense the story into It almost seems as if Cicognini experimented with adapting different kinds of subjects, since his other two opera librettos use, respectively, an invented plot (Orontea, 1649) and a historical one (Gli amori d’Alessandro magno e di Rossane, 1651). The fourth possibility, employing a literary subject, was not explored; however, Cicognini died while working on Gli amori d’Alessandro magno e di Rossane and may very well have planned to proceed down this avenue as well. one day and one location. Of course, the result is a severe pruning of the original myth: most of the parts of the story concerning Jason’s origins and his fate after he obtained the Golden Fleece have disappeared;10 but what is left can be told in a fashion that adheres to the rules of drama. Let us note that in adapting the story for an opera Cicognini chose wisely in making Jason (the Giasone of the opera) his protagonist. Jason is a hero who is sufficiently ambiguous to be represented in a great variety of musical settings. In fact, his reputation in the classical sources is already a very mixed one; and in the seventeenth-century sources this image is even more strongly emphasized in that regard.11 Less than ten years earlier the librettist Giacomo Badoaro had likened Jason to Ulysses, whom one might call the epitome of all ambivalent characters in opera.12 But for his plot Cicognini needed more than just a single protagonist: he needed two couples. Because of her prominence and her flamboyant character Medea is an obvious choice in any opera for a main female part. But, apart from her, there are two other women in the story of Jason who are possible candidates: Ipsipile (Isifile in the opera), with whom he had two children prior to coming to Colchis, and Creusa, whom he later tried to marry in Corinth. Of the two, Ipsipile is clearly the better choice since Creusa is too closely linked with the tragedy that ensues when Medea kills both her and her father, as well as the children whom she has borne to Jason. In contrast, Ipsipile’s fate remains unresolved in the myth and would therefore be readily available for any kind of ending that the libret­tist might choose without creating too much of a credibility problem. In the story of Medea, on the other hand, there is besides Jason just one other possible male candidate for a main role: her second husband Aigeus, King of Athens (Egeo in the opera). Cicognini’s choice for the quartet of main characters is therefore both a very natural one and one deeply rooted in the depiction of character in the ancient sources themselves. To find the right pairing of the four, Cicognini chose the moral path: since Giasone and Isifile have already had children prior to Giasone’s ar­rival at Colchis, they are to be a couple at the end, for Isifile has to be made an honest woman. That in turn leaves Medea for Egeo – which is perhaps a bit surprising but is in fact the only way to bring Aigeus into the story at all without being overly anachronistic – after all, no audience 10 See Michele Curnis, “... Vantaggioso patto toccar con gl’occhi e rimirar col tat- to”. Drammaturgia, poetica, retorica nel “Giasone” di G. A. Cicognini, Musica e storia 12, 2004, 35–90: 40–42. 11 See Hendrik Schulze, Odysseus in Venedig. Sujetwahl und Rollenkonzeption in der venezianischen Oper des 17. Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt a. M. 2004, 132–133; 322. 12 Giacomo Badoaro, Il ritorno d’Ulisse in patria, ms. Venice 1640, I.10 (number­ ing according to the score). educated in the classics would find credibility in a connection between Ipsipile and Aigeus; and given that Cicognini had to omit the tragedy that occurred at Corinth, Medea’s marriage to Aigeus is not that far removed chronologically from the events at Colchis. After all, if the bloodshed at Corinth had not taken place, any of the events leading towards it, such as the flight of Jason and Medea from Colchis, could be excluded from the story as well.13 Table 2. Plot structure of Giacinto Andrea Cicognini, Giasone, Venice 1649. The main plot concerns the love between Giasone and Medea. Isifile has travelled after Giasone to learn why he has left her, and tries to win him back. Egeo is meanwhile depicted as a very weak character who pines away because of his unrequited love for Medea. In the end a conspiracy between Giasone and Medea to murder Isifile fails dismally, Medea her­self being taken for the intended victim by the hired hand and thrown off a cliff into the sea. However, she is rescued by Egeo and promises to marry him out of gratitude. Even though Isifile has learnt about the conspiracy to murder her, she declares that she remains in love with Giasone. She tells him that she would much rather die at his hands than have to live without him, which in turn makes him rediscover his lost love for her, so that all ends happily. As Table 2 shows, even at the stage of disorder the plot structure of Giasone is very symmetrical and even in a sense orderly; this is only very rarely the case with Faustini’s plot structures (Table 1). By arrang­ing the relationships of the main characters in so symmetrical a fashion, Cicognini facilitates the audience’s understanding of the plot itself, a fea­ture of this particular libretto that may account at least partly for its great popularity during the seventeenth century. In order to adhere to the rule of unity of action, and to make things not too confusing for the audience, the secondary characters had somehow 13 The subject of Medeakilling her children and Creusa is essentially a tragic one, and has always been treated in this way. Therefore the tragic ending was seen as an inevitable and inescapable result of all the events that determine the fate of the characters involved. If the tragic ending is removed, all events prior to it become equally disposable and can be treated in whatever way the new concept of the author demands. to be related to the scheme devised by Faustini. In Venetian opera that aim was usually accomplished by making them servants or vassals to one of the four main characters, and this is just what Cicognini did. Among the Argonauts he chose Hercules, or Ercole, as a representative. To convey ef­fectively the image of a great variety of followers accompanying Giasone it sufficed to add just one other character who was the very opposite of Ercole. Since Ercole is depicted as a strong supporter of traditional moral values,14 the complementary character had to be somewhat unconven­tional. The original myth obviously did not provide such a character, and Cicognini therefore took him instead from the world of the Commedia dell’arte. His Besso is the Capitano from that genre. He has the qualities of being boastful and flashy yet behaving in a cowardly fashion. Above all, he falls easy victim to feminine charms. Cicognini had to provide the other protagonists with secondary char­acters as well in order to advance the intrigues that make up the plot. Medea got the obligatory nurse and a female gardener; Egeo a servant who stutters; and Isifile a so-called “confidente” and a lady-in-waiting. All these secondary characters are invented – but in a way that would make sense even in the mythical context. Isifile’s lady-in-waiting, Alinda, is a good example. Like Besso, she seems to be drawn from the Commedia dell’arte, having the characteristics of a Columbina. In a key scene (II.12) Cicognini shows her strolling into the military camp of Giasone and meet­ing Captain Besso there. The two have the typical cross-talk of the Com-media: she flirts with him, only to crush his hopes of an easy “conquest” by making fun of his efforts. In the end they sing a duet drawing the cus­tomary parallels between Love and War.15 14 Other characters, most notably Medea, do not find Ercole’s moral superiority convincing, but this is somehow without consequences for the way in which Cicognini depicts him; rather, it serves as a source of additional comedy (see Hendrik Schulze, Odysseus in Venedig. Sujetwahl und Rollenkonzeption in der venezianischen Oper des 17. Jahrhunderts, Frankfurt a. M. 2004, 263–265). 15 The text of the duet literally states, “Make love, not war” (“Non piů guerra”), but Cavalli’s music, with its host of military allusions, betrays the real mean­ing, which Alinda clearly understands (even if Besso does not): Love is just another face of War; both are of the same nature. This idea, which goes back to Ovid’s Ars amatoria, was very common in the seventeenth century, as one sees, for instance, in Monteverdi’s famous Eighth Book of Madrigals, “Madri­gali guerrieri, et amorosi”, or in the popular emblem books of the time: mili-tat omnis amans (see Arthur Henkel/Albrecht Schne, Emblemata. Handbuch zur Sinnbildkunst des 16. und 17. Jahrhunderts, Stuttgart 1996, 1762–1763). As Michele Curnis points out, both the text of the duet and Cavalli’s music make partial reference to Guarini’s madrigal “Non piů guerra, pietate”, which was set by Monteverdi in his Fourth Book of Madrigals (see Michele Curnis, “... Van-taggioso patto toccar con gl’occhi e rimirar col tatto”. Drammaturgia, poetica, But what looks like a very stereotypical comical scene in fact is also a statement about Alinda’s character and ultimately about that of her mis­tress as well. After all, Isifile is an Amazon queen, and her lady-in-wait­ing is likely to be an Amazon as well. By demonstrating to the audience the ease with which Alinda handles fierce warriors like Captain Besso in a combat-like situation, even if it is apparently only an amorous one, the audience is reminded of her original status. By way of contrast, this scene serves to highlight Isifile’s plight, for her love to Giasone and his subse­quent infidelity have reduced her to a passive state. In fact, in the scene that immediately follows that of Besso and Alinda, Isifile is forced to beg Giasone to have mercy on her, only to suffer mockery from both him and Medea and to be taken for a mad woman. That would in itself be a humili­ation for anyone; but Isifile is an Amazon queen, and by the standards of her character-type is even less accustomed to be treated in such a fashion. Thus Cicognini’s depiction of Alinda as an Amazon actually shows up Isi­file’s ambivalence, revealing her original status as queen of the Amazons and her self-assured and elevated normal behaviour while contrasting this with her current state, to which she has been reduced by her capitulation to the sheer force of Cupid’s darts. Another way of simultaneously integrating secondary characters into the plot and using myth in an intelligent fashion can be observed in the first scene of the opera. This serves as an exposition for the entire plot to follow – a function that always poses a challenge to the librettist. The classical solution was either to have the principal character narrate all the important information in some fashion to other characters on stage or to be even more obvious and have him narrate it directly to the audience in a solo scene. Of course, all this can become very tedious and un-dra­matic.16 Cicognini therefore chose an unconventional approach. He moves retorica nel “Giasone” di G. A. Cicognini, Musica e storia 12, 2004, 35–90: 74–75). However, Guarini’s text is much more specific in drawing the parallels between Love and War; Monteverdi’s music can therefore be much subtler in underlining its meaning. Hence this composer uses broken triads and drum-like rhythms for melodic material as if they were mere madrigalisms and underlines this effect by his choice of mode: D incantus mollis – which means that in place of the major triad associated with the trumpet that he appears to be imitating we find a minor triad. Cavalli, in contrast, has to be much more explicit in his means of depiction since Cicognini’s text is less obvious in this regard. There­fore he chooses the mode of C in cantus durus, repeats the fanfare-like motif throughout and uses diminutions typical of the contemporary trumpet style. 16 The main difficulty lies in the problem of dealing with the audience’s expecta­tions with respect to genre. In a drama one expects the action to be carried forward by dialogue and action on stage. A long narration by a single character runs the risk of becoming too epic in nature, not to speak of the even greater directly into the narration with a conversation between Ercole and Besso (I.1); the auditors have to discover for themselves what exactly the situation is about. In fact, the problem Ercole and Besso are discussing is that Gia­ sone does not want to get up in the morning. Eventually, it emerges that the reason for this is that he spends the nights with an unknown but beautiful woman, which leaves him tired and neglectful of his responsibilities. As is only to be expected, Ercole is highly critical of this behaviour and sup­ ports his judgement with many mythological similes. Besso argues that since it seems to be Giasone’s fate to be a lover, there is nothing that any­ one can do about it. An argument about fate and reason develops, in which Cicognini at certain points ingeniously introduces descriptions of both Gi­ asone’s appearance and his character. The climax is the famous line where Ercole accuses Besso of being effeminate – which according to Besso is nothing unnatural, since he was born to a woman: Ercole says, “Sei troppo effeminato”, to which Besso replies, “Di femmina son nato”.17 ER[COLE]: Il saggio puň dominar le Stelle: BE[SSO]: Si, se la stella del saper gl’assiste: ER.: L’uso della ragion comune č a tutti: BE.: Ciascun d’operar con la ragion presume: ER.: Chi segue il senso alla ragion dič bando: BE.: Il senso č la ragion di chi lo segue: ER.: Fů sempre il senso alla ragion nemico: BE.: Ma perň vince chi di lor prevale: ER.: Arbitro in questa pugna č’l voler nostro BE.: Giason č bello, hŕ senza pella guancia; E bizzarro, e robusto, Di donar non si stanca; Onde per possederlo Ogni Dama le porte, apre, e spalanca: danger of boring theaudience, which at the beginning of the drama may not understand the meaning of all the expository material. 17 In a typical seventeenth-century discussion the fact that “effemminato” and “femmina ... nato” use the same letters and may therefore be read as analogues of each other would be used to support an argument that Besso’s opinion on this matter was actually the more credible (see Gary Tomlinson, Music in Renais­sance Magic. Toward a Historiography of Others, Chicago 1993). Similarly structured arguments can be found in the proceedings of contemporary acade­mies such as the Venetian Accademia degli Incogniti (Girolamo Brusoni, Tra­scorsi accademici, Venice 1656; Vettor Contarini, Primitie accademiche, Veni­ce 1644; Gian Francesco Loredano, Discorsi academici de’ Signori Incogniti, Venice 1635; Gian Francesco Loredano, Scherzi geniali, Venice 1643. See also Benedetto Fioretti, Proginnasmi poetici, Florence 1620–1639, printed Florence 1695–1697; Emanuele Tesauro, Il cannocchiale Aristotelico, Turin 1670, reprint ed. A. Buck, Bad Homburg v. d. H. – Berlin – Zürich 1968.) Bellezza, gioventů, oro, occasione? Come pucontro tanti Fortissimi Guerrieri Contrastar il voler, ň la ragione? Nň, nň, nň, Non ŕ fč, Resister non si pu, Credilo ŕ mč. ER.: Sei troppo effeminato. BE.: Di femmina son nato. ER.: Tů pur femmina sei. BE.: Rispondete per me, ň membri miei. Si parte. ER.: Oh come ben seconda, L’adulator del suo signor gl’errori. Mŕ sla porta dell’albergo indegno Pur riveder si lascia Il notturno Guerriero, Carco di gioia, e di cervel leggiero. (I.1) Example Giacinto Andrea Cicognini, Giasone, Venice 1649, I.1. This dialogue is highly comical, but it also sets the tone for the fol­lowing story in that it is rooted in a world of mythology. Ercole very ef­ficiently employs his mythological similes in an “academic” disputation about free will and fate, but Besso seems to find an answer to each of Er­cole’s arguments simply by taking Ercole’s words and twisting them: the exchange “Sei troppo effeminato – Di femmina son nato” is just one ex­ample of this technique. By doing this, Besso treats Ercole’s arguments in the same fashion as Cicognini treats the whole myth: taking up elements and rearranging them so that they are clearly recognizable but at the same time giving them a totally new – yet, according to seventeenth-century standards, equally credible – meaning.18 This exposition achieves a number of tasks simultaneously. It sets the tone for the drama as a whole while it manages to describe the overall situ­ation and one of the principal characters – Giasone – in a very unobtrusive way. At the same time, it introduces the two secondary characters of Er-cole and Besso as well as a basic moral argument about love and duty that remains significant throughout the opera. Finally, but probably equally importantly, the scene establishes the basis for the unity of time by being set early in the morning, which identifies the day as the basic time-frame 18 In fact, the credibility of the new story owes much to the seventeenth-century concept of verosimiglianza (whose literal meaning is ‘truth-likeness’). The process described above through which Cicognini arrived at his newer version of the plot is a typical one in this respect. for the action, which starts in the following scene when Giasone finally gets up.19 The confinement of the action to a love intrigue taking place within one day leaves little room for the main action of the original myth. Hence the conquest of the Golden Fleece is not shown on stage; instead, there are a few scenes connected with it: one in which Medea conjures up the spirits to help Giasone (I.15), three short ones that show Giasone setting out to perform the task (II.3–5), and one depicting his return (II.6). Since these comprise the final scene of the first act and scenes 3–6 of the second (sep­arating them is a sequence of scenes concerned with Isifile’s plight), they cannot in any way be regarded as central to the structure of the drama. For the plot, the mythological basis is nothing more than a backdrop that provides the audience with a pleasant entr’acte ballet and some nail-biting in between. Because of Giasone’s status as the most popular opera in the sev­enteenth century, Cicognini’s treatment of the subject matter became an example that many librettists would follow. But it also seems to have laid down the way in which the story of Jason, Medea and the Argonauts was viewed, at least in Venice. Just as Cicognini plays with the audience’s knowledge of the original myth, an opera such as Aurelio Aureli’s Medea in Atene of 1675 plays with the audience’s knowledge of Giasone. For his libretto Aureli took an episode he found in Hyginus concern­ing Medea’s efforts to make her own son Medos (Medo) the crown prince of Athens in place of Aigeus’ firstborn, Theseus (Teseo). Interwoven is a love-story between Teseus and the Amazon Hippolyte, which Aureli claims to have invented but has, in fact, a mythological basis. Unlike Cicognini, Aureli makes the audience aware of all the events that occur in Colchis and Corinth in the original myth; indeed, he needs these elements in order to characterize Medea as extremely jealous and prone to violence. But he also introduces an amazing number of similarities to Giasone, which are obviously designed to remind the audience of the older opera. One of the couples featured in the plot is the same as in Giasone: Medea and Egeo. The other includes Teseo, who, like Jason, is a distinguished friend of Her­cules and has the similar reputation of a womanizer; his partner is Ippol­ita, an Amazon like the character of Isifile in Giasone.20 There is a scene 19 Cicognini enhancesthis effect still more by making Sole, an allegory for the Sun, a character in the opera’s prologue (on the allegorical qualities of Sole, see Michele Curnis, “... Vantaggioso patto toccar con gl’occhi e rimirar col tatto”. Drammaturgia, poetica, retorica nel “Giasone” di G. A. Cicognini, Musica e storia 12, 2004, 35–90: 48–55). 20 Hippolyte is one of several women linked to Theseus in the myth. The fact that Aureli chose her over such distinguished rivals as Ariadne, Perigune or Phaedra even though Theseus’s connection with her occurred much later than the events in which Medea conjures the spirits to help her, and even a conspiracy to murder. Egeo is the same weak, passive character as in Giasone, which is not his image in Hyginus: Aureli took it directly from Cicognini. The great number of extant librettos suggests that throughout his long career Aurelio Aureli was highly successful at providing what the audi­ence demanded; the librettos themselves reveal that his particular strength lay in character depiction and plot invention. The similarities in that re­gard between Giasone and Medea in Atene cannot therefore be mere coin­cidence. Aureli obviously sensed that the audience demanded a presenta­tion of the myth according to the images that Cicognini had introduced. In the process of its reception Giasone became, so to speak, part of the very myth on which it was based. at Athens affords further proof that he was imitating the template popularized by Cicognini’s distinguished example. Aureli himself drew on Theseus’s nu­merous affairs when he wrote the libretto of Teseo tra le rivali (Venice 1685), which features four women, each of whom is trying to convince Teseo to deliver on his promise to marry her (in the preface Aureli states that he initially thought of making their number five – but the impresario found it difficult to obtain the services of so many sopranos). Dramaturgija, predstavitev znacajev in mitološka osnova za opero Jazon Giacinta Andree Cicogninija in Francesca Cavallija POVZETEK Mit o Jazonu oziroma argonavtih se zdi iz razlicnih razlogov manj ustre­zna tema za uglasbitev opere. Zgodbo je težko uskladiti z Aristotelovo klasicno opredelitvijo dramskih elementov, v mitu nastopa tudi veliko vec oseb, kot bi se jih sploh dalo okarakterizirati in jim slediti na odru. V na­sprotju z uglasbitvijo te tematike leta 1649 (leto prve uprizoritve opere z naslovom Jazon italijanskega skladatelja Francesca Cavallija (1602–1676)) pa je tudi dejstvo, da so bile v omenjenem casu mitološke vsebine v oper­ni umetnosti že povsem iz mode v primerjavi z operami, osnovanimi na zgodovinskih dejstvih, z izmišljenim dogajanjem. Kljub temu pa je Jazon postal ena najuspešnejših oper svojega casa v Italiji; uprizarjali so jo vso drugo polovico 17. stoletja po vsem Apeninskem polotoku. Kako je torej libretist Cicognini dosegel tak uspeh z na videz tako omejenim gradivom? Vsebino je seveda moral prilagoditi zahtevam oper­ne zvrsti, poleg tega pa je moral paziti tudi na to, da je bila zgodba v oceh tedanjih poslušalcev »verosimile« (torej možna). Ceprav so bile zaradi tega potrebne spremembe v sami zgodbi in orisu znacajev dolocenih na­stopajocih likov, je Cicognini s premišljeno uporabo opernih stereotipov 17. stoletja od izvirnega mita uspel ohraniti presenetljivo veliko. Osebe, kot so Jazon (Giasone), Herkul (Ercole) ali Medeja (Medea), ustrezajo do-locenim ustaljenim znacilnostim, ki so nato še poudarjene z nekaterimi znanimi mitološkimi potezami teh junakov. Cicognini jih je prevedel v vzorce obnašanja, jezika ali odnosov med osebami. V toku sprejemanja tega opernega dela je Jazon celo postal del mita, na katerem je bil osnovan. Uspeh, ki ga je žel med obcinstvom po vsej Italiji, je pripomogel k nastanku lastne tradicije tega dela. Nazoren primer tega pojava je libreto Aurelia Aurelija Medea in Atene (Medeja v Atenah, 1675, z glasbo Antonia Gianettinija). Aureli je prevzel nekatere like Ja­zona in jih vpel v vsebino izmišljenega dogajanja, v katero so vkljuceni nekateri že znani prizori zgodnejše opere, pa tudi novi, kot je carovniški prizor. Tako Medeja v Atenah kot Jazon sta odlicna primera, kako je lahko stari mit postal glavni predmet neke nove zvrsti, v tem primeru opere, v Italiji imenovane »dramma per musica« (drama za glasbo). Mythology in the Service of Eulogy: The Serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) MICHAELTALBOT The importance of mythological subjects in the history of early opera and its cognate genres can hardly be exaggerated. During the first sixty or so years of its existence opera relied more heavily on classical mythology than on any other source for its plots and characters, and even after sub­ jects drawn from classical or mediaeval history and literature had grown more popular, opera seria retained to the end its fondness for the Greek and Roman tales of gods and heroes. The lure of the ancient world was founded on the perception of edu­catedsocietythatthiswasaparallelworldinwhicheverythingthathadhap­pened and would happen in the modern world was foreshadowed. Indeed, until the nineteenth century the Industrial Revolution had not proceeded far enough to shake the vision of classical times as a golden age begging to be recovered. Because it was parallel rather than identical, the ancient world provided perfect cover for topical reference in allegorical form. Contempo­rary issues of politics, religion and social ethics that might be risqué or even taboo if discussed in the open under their true names could be debated more safely within the framework of the retelling of a myth or of an episode in Greek or Roman history.1 Forthisparticularpurpose,mythwasevenbetter thanhistory,foritwasmorepliableandmoreuniversalinitsreference. Certain myths proved a particularly fertile source for the imagination of librettists. The story of Orpheus perhaps occupies the top spot, but that of Perseus and Andromeda comes not far behind. Table 1 (see p. 151) lists pre-1750 musical and non-musical dramatic works in Italian based on the Perseus-Andromeda legend.2 1 Thus Metastasio, shortly to become Caesarean poet in Vienna, impartially de­bates the rival merits of monarchy and republicanism in Catone in Utica (Act 2, Scene 10) under the cloak of an argument between Caesar and Cato. Bizarre though this may seem today, British school students as recently as fifty years ago continued to observe the convention of substituting Greek or Roman coun­ terparts for modern politicians or military men when composing their “proses” (translations from English into the classical language). 2 The table, which does not pretend to completeness, omits treatments of the sub­ ject in vocal chamber music. The sources of information are various, including the second edition of the New Grove, London 2001, the Drammaturgia di Lione The outline of the legend is simple. Cepheus (Cefeo), King of Ethi­opia, and his wife Cassiopeia (Cassiope) have a daughter, Andromeda. Cassiopeia boasts of Andromeda’s beauty, arousing the jealousy of the Nereids (the fifty sea nymphs charged to protect sailors), who complain to Poseidon. The god responds by sending a sea monster to ravage Ethiopia. Cepheus learns from the Oracle of Zeus that Poseidon will be placated only if Andromeda is sacrificed to the sea monster. Andromeda is bound, naked, to a rock and awaits her fate. Providentially, Perseus (Perseo), the heroic son of Zeus and Danaë, arrives in Ethiopia, fresh from slaying the Gorgon Medusa and capturing her head, which turns to stone everyone who sets eyes on it. He falls in love with Andromeda at first sight and per­suades both her and her father to agree to their marriage if he can rescue her from the monster. This he duly does, with the help of Medusa’s head, and the story ends happily. Some versions of the legend include the figure of Andromeda’s uncle, Phineus (Fineo), who is also in love with her and is killed by Perseus in self-defence. Needless to say, in dramatic treatments of the story much extra in­vented detail was added. The unfortunate end of Phineus was at odds with the convention of the lieto fine, so it sometimes happened that he stayed alive and became reconciled with Perseus. The second and third columns of the table define the dramatic genres into which the works fall. The second column classes them according to broad type (as play, opera, serenata etc.), while the third column gives the librettist’s description, which in most instances is more relevant to the separate literary contribution than to the work’s character as a musical entertainment. Six works in the table are identified as serenatas. A serenata was a dramatic cantata for two or more voices, usually with orchestral accom­paniment, which was performed in celebration of an event such as a birth­day, name-day, birth, wedding, treaty or visit by an eminent person. Such works, comparable in length to an oratorio and often divided into two parts, were rarely staged, although they could be sung in costume against a scenic background. As in oratorios, the singers read their parts from the music and remained stationary. The venue was usually not a public theatre but the palazzo or the garden of the person who had commissioned the serenata.3 Attendance was by invitation, and the guests were often pre­sented with a libretto that doubled as what we would today call a souvenir programme. By the eighteenth century, the style of serenatas was little Allacci accresciuta econtinuata fino all’ anno mdcclv, Venice 1755, and Clau­dio Sartori’s I libretti italiani a stampa dalle origini al 1750. Catalogo analitico con 16 indici, 7 vols, Cuneo 1990–1994. My article “Serenata” in the New Grove provides a fairly detailed introduction to the genre. different from that of opera, although their celebratory, eulogistic tone debarred them from expressing the more violent emotions. I first came across the serenata Andromeda liberata, the nineteenth work in the table, nearly twenty-five years ago, when I was researching an article on the cultivation of the serenata in Venice.4 The volume contain­ ing it lies in the library of the Conservatorio Statale di Musica “Benedetto Marcello”, Venice.5 I made a note of the title of the cover, as transcribed in Table 2 (see p. 152), which identified clearly the genre (serenata) and the date of performance (18 September 1726) but, unhelpfully, mentioned the names of neither librettist nor composer. My cursory look at the score left me no wiser about its paternity. However, I found a description of a sere-nata in a contemporary inventory of serenatas in the Museo Civico Correr, Venice, that seemed to match the Conservatorio score.6 The twenty-ninth item in this list runs as follows: 1… [i. e., date unknown] Vicenzo Casoni fece un Intreccio sonico musicale cantato nell’Accademia de Nobili nella Contrada de SS:ti Appos­toli p[er] divertimento del Cardinale Ottoboni, ŕ 5. voci. “Vicenzo Casoni” is obviously Vincenzo Cassani, a prominent Vene­tian librettist of the second and third decades of the eighteenth century. “Intreccio sonico musicale” is evidently a corruption of “Intreccio sceni­co-musicale”, an original expression already used by Cassani to describe the librettos of two of his serenatas, both set to music by Benedetto Mar­cello: Arianna (1727) and Psiche (date unknown, but probably from the 1720s). The use of this “librettist’s” description implies that the text was published, as those of both Arianna and Psiche were, and offers hope for the future discovery of a libretto. The body that sponsored the perform­ance was evidently a society (accademia) of nobles whose clubhouse (ca­sino) was situated in the parish of SS. Apostoli. The last two parts of the description make the connection with the serenata in the Conservatorio watertight: Andromeda liberata is indeed for five voices, and its text does indeed refer to Ottoboni, albeit under the cover name of Perseo. The above information and the deductions therefrom were clear to me in 1982 when I published the article on Venetian serenatas.7 The vi­tal information still lacking was, of course, the identity of the composer, without which deeper investigation seemed to hold little attraction. Renewed interest in the work was kindled spectacularly in 2003 by the French scholar Olivier Fourés, who discovered that one aria with obbligato 4 Published as The Serenata in Eighteenth-Century Venice, R. M. A. Research Chronicle 18, 1982, 1–50. 5 Shelfmark: Ms. Correr (Carminati), Busta 9.6. 6 Shelfmark: Ms. Cicogna 2991/II/57. 7 See note 3. The score and the inventory are listed separately with a cross-refer­ ence on p. 39 as nos. 73 and 75. violin, “Sovente il sole”, was identical with an aria by Vivaldi preserved separately in the Venice Conservatorio.8 This aria had been discovered in­dependently by Paul Everett and Berthold Over in the 1980s, and Over had published an introductory article on it.9 Although the aria does not carry an inscription to any composer, the fact that it is in Vivaldi’s handwriting and reveals countless instances of his idiolect (i.e., features peculiar to his musical language) leaves the attribution in no doubt. From that moment, it became clear that some of the serenata was by Vivaldi – although exactly how much remained to be discovered. Fourés followed this discovery with another. He found a second unat­tributed aria in the Conservatorio that matched one in the Andromeda lib-erata score. This was “Un occhio amabile”, in which the singer is accom­panied by obbligato cello and continuo alone. The separate score is clearly a composition manuscript (i.e., a first draft), since it is very untidy and contains several corrections arising from changes in intention. To identify the composer, one therefore needed merely to identify the hand respon­sible for the aria. I was fortunate to be able to do this some months later, when I found a composition manuscript of a serenata by Giovanni Porta, Vivaldi’s colleague at the Ospedale della Pietŕ, with identical graphical, notational and stylistic features. This was Il ritratto dell’eroe, a serenata performed, also in Ottoboni’s honour, by the all-female choristers of the Pietŕ in the same year, 1726.10 The establishment of the authorship of two arias confirmed what was already emerging from a consideration of the heterogeneous style of the serenata: it is a pasticcio – more exactly, a collective work pieced together from the contributions of a number of different composers. Just as the of­fering to Ottoboni is sponsored by a consortium of nobles, the Accademia dei Nobili, so, too, the musical tribute involves several participants. This feature, very unusual for a serenata (although common enough in opera), responds to an unusual feature of the occasion – it is not a single individual who wishes to honour Ottoboni: it is the city and republic of Venice her­self.11 It would have made perfect sense to recruit the cream of Venice’s musicians to collaborate in a common enterprise to symbolize the una­nimity of the city’s welcome to Ottoboni – which is the main theme of the serenata itself. This interpretation is supported by the fact that Vivaldi’s aria employs obbligato violin and Porta’s aria obbligato cello, for these 8 Shelfmark: Ms. Correr, Busta 127.55. 9 Ein unbekanntes Vivaldi-Autograph im Conservatorio ‘Benedetto Marcello’, Informazioni e studi vivaldiani 13, 1992, 5–15. 10 Stockholm, Statens Musikbibliothek, no shelfmark. 11 One cannot discount, of course, the factor of haste. The words and music of serenatas often had to be put together in a great hurry, so the parcelling out of responsibilities may have been designed to save time. were two instruments played with distinction by their respective compos­ers. Vivaldi and Porta therefore had the chance to appear before Ottoboni simultaneously as performers and as composers, paying a double tribute. At this point, it will be useful to explain why Ottoboni’s visit was such a landmark. Created a cardinal at the age of twenty-two in 1689, Pi­etro Ottoboni, the scion of a prominent noble Venetian family (his father Antonio, a notable poet, sat for many years on the governing board of the Ospedale della Pietŕ), made his home in Rome and gradually advanced up the ecclesiastical ladder. In 1709 he accepted the position of Protector of the Affairs of France at the Vatican (a quasi-ambassadorial post), thereby gravely infringing Venetian law, which rigorously forbade nobles to hold posts on behalf of foreign states. Ottoboni refused to give up the post, as a result of which he and his family were banished from Venice, had their name erased from the Golden Book (the official register of the nobility) and had their property confiscated. For almost a decade France and Venice froze their diplomatic relations. In the early 1720s the breach was repaired, and the French court sent an ambassador once more to Venice. The way was now free for Ottoboni to be forgiven and return in glory to his na­tive city, an event that occurred in the second half of 1726. His visit was a feast of reciprocal compliments and favours. He gave a serenata in his newly restituted palazzo in honour of the Venetian nobility (La Fenice, by Giovanni Costanzi, his maestro di cappella, who accompanied him on his visit), and received in return Porta’s Il ritratto dell’eroe, a two-voice can­tata, Fuga di Teseo, by an unknown composer, and Andromeda liberata. A regatta was held in his honour. By special permission of the Council of Ten, Venice’s premier theatre, S. Giovanni Grisostomo, opened out of season on 20 September for a gala opera, Imeneo in Atene, whose music was written by Nicola Porpora, a rising Neapolitan composer newly ar­rived in Venice.12 The text for Andromeda liberata includes a couple of references to these other works. Before we consider the text in detail, it will be useful to return to consider Cassani’s authorship further. As a dramatic poet, Cassani has a number of fingerprints. First, he likes to vary the metre of his arias very widely and has a special fondness for arias that use two or more metres. The most distinctive feature of his verse is, however, his readiness to employ end-rhyme between lines be­longing to different semistrophes of a da capo aria rather than within the same semistrophe, as traditional usage favours. One takes for granted the mandatory “key” rhyme that unites the last line of the two semistrophes, 12 On Ottoboni’s triumphant return to Venice, see Michael Talbot, Vivaldi and a French ambassador, Informazioni e studi vivaldiani 2, 1981, 31–41, and the same author’s introductory essay accompanying the facsimile edition Antonio Vivaldi. Le sonate “di Manchester”, Vivaldiana III, Firenze 2004. but beyond that, they normally employ rhyme independently. Cassani, however, favours such rhyme-schemes as ABBC | ADDC or even ABCD | ABCD.13 The ABCD | ABCD rhyme-scheme found in no fewer than three arias in Andromeda liberata corresponds exactly to one in Cassani’s opera Ro­molo e Tazio (1722), and very nearly to the ABCD | ABED plan of one aria in Psiche. ABBC | ADDC arias exist in the operas Il tiranno eroe (1710) and Romolo e Tazio, and in the serenatas Il nome glorioso in terra, san­tificato in cielo (1724), Arianna (1727), Psiche and Andromeda liberata. Table 3 (see p. 153) provides some illustrations. Given the near-certainty of Cassani’s authorship, one is tempted to suggest that Andromeda liberata forms, together with Arianna and Psiche, a “triptych” of intrecci scenico-musicali. All are of similar length, em­ploy five solo voices plus chorus, and are on Greek mythological subjects. There are obvious differences, too. The second two had music supplied by a single composer, Benedetto Marcello, who was doubtless a member of the academy, and have no obvious topical reference. It is nevertheless possible to visualize Andromeda liberata as the expected serenata per­formed periodically (annually?) under the auspices of the Accademia dei Nobili, but this time with an encomiastic purpose and entrusted to several composers. The plot is very simple.14 In an introductory speech Perseo, having slain the monster, confesses his pleasure at having silenced the Nereids (for which read those members of the Venetian nobility who instigated his exile). Meliso (a renamed Cefeo) congratulates him and expresses joy at the imminent wedding, in which sentiment Cassiope concurs. These two characters must represent the Venetian government. Andromeda (Venice), however, does not react with the same unmixed pleasure at her rescue: her existing love for Daliso (a renamed Feneo) makes her unwilling to marry Perseo. Daliso may be an allegory for Venice’s recent ally, the Hapsburgs (with whom they had been allied in a war against the Ottomans). It may be significant that in Mantua the imperial governor, Prince Philip of Hesse-Darmstadt, is often referred to by the name of “Daliso” in cantatas and serenatas of the same period.15 A later reference in Andromeda liberata 13 Similar schemes such as AB | AB and ABC | ABC occur frequently in very short aria texts, but once the number of lines in the semistrophes rises above three, they become very rare. 14 The complete text is transcribed in an appendix (see pp. 155–159). 15 See Michael Talbot, Vivaldi’s ‘Academic’ Cantatas for Mantua, in: 300 Let/ Years Academia Philharmonicorum Labacensium 1701–2001: Zbornik refera­tov z mednarodnega simpozija 25. in 26. oktobra 2001 v Ljubljani / Proceedings of the International Symposium held in Ljubljana on October 25th and 26th 2001, ed. I. Klemencic, Ljubljana 2004, 157–170. to Daliso seeking refuge on Venice’s shores may allude to this prince’s frequent visits to Europe’s capital of pleasure. Perseo is surprised and piqued at Andromeda’s revelation and pre­pares to leave for good. Cassiope restrains him. Daliso then arrives in person to pour out his love for Andromeda. Meliso laments the ruin of his plans. Cassiope pleads with Andromeda to transfer her affections. She responds by asking for time. Explaining her dilemma, she pays tribute to the hero who saved her (the word “eroe” in the score, which replaces an earlier, deleted word, is obviously a last-minute change aimed at mak­ing allusion to the title Il ritratto dell’eroe), but confesses that Cupid has caused her to fall in love with Daliso. On that indecisive note, the first part closes. Andromeda, still wavering, discusses the situation with Daliso. He declares that he intends to cede her to Perseo, whose merit is greater. Meliso announces that preparations are in hand for the wedding. His use of the word “Imeneo” is a fleeting allusion to the opera Imeneo in Atene, which had just come to the end of its run. Andromeda arrives to express her concurrence: her reluctance was, she claims, merely a device to test Perseo’s fidelity. In the first line of her aria she inserts the word “Fenice” (Phoenix) – a clear reference to the serenata La Fenice, to which Otto-boni had recently treated the Venetian nobility. Perseo vows loyalty to Andromeda in the couplet: E Arcadia scorgerŕ che il ciel destina And Arcadia will discover that Heaven che tu sia la mia sposa e mia regina. destines you for my spouse and queen. “Arcadia” represents here the Arcadian Academy in Rome, of which Ottoboni was a member and patron, and by extension the Vatican. Taken at face-value, this is a declaration that in future Ottoboni will regard his ties to Venice as stronger than those to Rome. Meliso calls everyone to proceed to the sacrifice to the Gods in the temple (meaning the celebration of Mass, in which Ottoboni was extreme­ly active throughout his Venetian sojourn). It remains for Daliso to return and give his blessing to the couple. Discounting the linking recitatives, the serenata consists of nineteen closed numbers (eleven in the first part, eight in the second), the first of which is a two-movement sinfonia. The vocal numbers comprise fourteen arias (two of them without da capo), a duet and three choruses, two with solo participation. Table 4 (see p. 154) outlines their plan. It will be no­ticed that the opportunity to sing arias is distributed more evenly than in most operas. In serenatas, the voices tend to sing in “rounds”, so that the number of arias allotted to each character remains approximately (some­ times, literally) equal. Andromeda and Cassiope are sopranos; Perseo and Meliso are altos; Daliso is a tenor. Before taking the question of musical authorship further, we should return to discuss the manuscript and Table 2 (see p. 152). The preparation of the manuscript was the work of four hands. Those identified in the table as “Scribe 8” and “Scribe 9” (following a classification system de­vised by Paul Everett) are well known to students of Vivaldi and described elsewhere.16 The scribes identified in the table as “x” and “y” are not re­corded in the literature. The four copyists were evidently colleagues in a copisteria acting under the direction, it would seem, of Scribe “y”, who started off the second contribution of Scribe 8, when the latter resumed work on f. 97, and made small additions to the work of his colleagues at certain points in the manuscript. Scribe 9 was initially given the first part of the serenata (gatherings 1–14) on which to work, and Scribe 8 the second part (gatherings 15–27).17 The two copyists probably worked in parallel. At f. 81 Scribe 8 broke off and was replaced first by Scribe “y” and then by Scribe “x”. Scribe 8 then resumed work, Scribe “y” making sure that he started at the right place; this released Scribe “x” to relieve Scribe 9. The above reconstruction of the modus operandi is conjectural, but probably illustrates accurately enough how labour was divided in a large copisteria. No effort is made to allow a single copyist to complete a single musical number. No. 14 (Meliso’s aria “Dalle superne sfere”), for instance, is shared between three copyists. On the other hand, copyists always complete the gatherings that they start, perhaps in order to simplify the calculation of their payment. The inscription “P[ri]mo” at the top of the cover, incidentally, is prob­ably short for “originale primo”, or “first score” – it was common in per­formances of dramatic works to employ two full scores, one used by the composer and the other by a harpsichordist. There is therefore no relationship between the identity of the copy­ists and that of the composers, which, except in the case of the two arias already discussed, has to be worked out from the properties of the music. In Table 4 (see p. 154) the key sequences inserted between the numbers in the first column (capitals for major keys, lower case for minor keys) are those of the connecting recitatives. The recitatives are written in a uniform, stylistically rather neutral way – presumably by those who had the task of assembling and co-ordinating the serenata. In a few instances, the key in which a recitative closes is exactly the same as that of the closed 16 Paul Everett, Vivaldi’s Italian Copyists, Informazioni e studi vivaldiani 11, 1990, 27–86, especially 53–54. 17 A gathering is a detachable bibliographical unit, usually taking the form of a collection of “nested” bifolios. The most common gathering in quarto format is one of four folios (i.e., two nested bifolios). number that follows (shown in the fourth column). This is a very conserva­tive feature – Vivaldi, for instance, always makes the two keys different. Of course, this could have occurred spontaneously if the compilers of the serenata composed the recitative before receiving the aria in question and verifying its key. That there was more than one composer employed for the recitatives is suggested by an interesting notational discrepancy. In most of the serenata “falling fourth” (over dominant harmony) and “falling fifth” (over tonic harmony) vocal cadences at the end of phrases, normally coincident with the end of lines, are notated literally in “real” sounds. However, the same two types of cadence occurring in the recitatives ly­ing between nos. 5 and 8 are notated in a conventional stylized manner, in which the penultimate and final notes are written at the same pitch; in performance, the higher pitch is substituted for the first note as an ap­ poggiatura. We can rule out any thought that the copyists made editorial alterations to the text. This is not what they were paid to do – and, in any case, the same copyist, Scribe 9, was responsible for cadences following both conventions. Which composers form the “shortlist” from which the likely compos­ers of the closed numbers are taken? Given the time of year – well before the opening of the autumn season – we can probably exclude those who were not normally resident in Venice. We can also ignore the many com­posers whose activity did not extend beyond church music. This leaves, first, the Primo maestro of S. Marco, Antonino Biffi, who was concur­rently Maestro di coro at the Ospedale dei Mendicanti, and the first organ­ist of the ducal church, Antonio Lotti. Biffi, a priest, was inexperienced in opera, and Lotti, formerly very active, was no longer so, but neither man, one feels, would have turned up his nose at the opportunity to contribute to a serenata. Antonio Pollarolo, Giovanni Porta and Nicola Porpora were the Maestri di coro at the Ospedaletto, the Pietŕ and the Incurabili, res­pectively. Then there were Venice’s great dilettanti: Benedetto Marcello, whose connection with Cassani has already been mentioned; Tomaso Al-binoni, a workhorse of the Venetian stage and also a collaborator with Cassani; and the promising young composer Giovanni Francesco Brusa, a protégé of Vivaldi. Brusa was later to forsake music for a couple of dec­ades, re-emerging only in the 1750s, but in the Venice of the mid-1720s his was a name to watch. Finally, of course, we have Vivaldi himself, at the height of his international fame. Only the previous year, a correspondent of the Mercure de France had extolled him as “Le plus habile compositeur qui soit ŕ Venise”.18 The two-movement sinfonia and the three choruses are hard to place in stylistic terms. They all have an almost Handelian feel, augmented, in 18 October 1725, page 2418. the first case, by light mimicry of the stile francese in obvious homage to Ottoboni’s post.19 The sinfonia employs a pair of horns in F, which are treated in a rousing, if not particularly sophisticated, manner.20 One hesi­ tates to guess who the composer might have been, but Porpora is by far the strongest candidate.21 One would expect the arias to reveal the musical personality of their respective composers more strongly, and such is indeed the case. Four arias are ascribable without reservation to Albinoni, since they bear the unmistakable imprint of his idiolect, perhaps the most distinctive of any in that period: 3 Cassiope “Quando chiudere pensai” 5 Perseo “Non ha tranquillo il cor” 6 Cassiope “Si rinforzi in te la spene” 17 Cassiope “Con dolce mormorio” In“Quandochiuderepensai”,theopeningofwhosefirstvocalperiod isshownasExample1,thetell-talefeatures are(a)theconstantmovement between root-position and first-inversion chords, and the harmonization, withasix-threechord,ofthelinkingnoteinthebass,(b)theextremelylin­earandrepetitive(evenhypnotic)vocalline,and(c)theconstantintertwin­ing of the principal part (voice doubled by first violin) and a non-imitative accompanying line.22 The pre-cadential Lombardic rhythms in each of the 19 The first movement of the sinfonia employs saccadé rhythms, while the second movement is in minuet tempo and rhythm. Porpora uses a rhythmic and melodic style very close to that of this movement for the aria opening Imeneo in Atene (BritishLibrary,Add.ms.14,113),inwhatisevidentlyaparallelcaseofhomage. Interestingly, the first chorus (no. 2) echoes the thematic substance and minuet styleofthesinfoniafinale,whichsuggeststhatitscomposeristhesameperson. 20 The parts are described as Tromba prima/seconda at the head of the score, but between the staves the copyist has inserted the words “2 Corni da Caccia”. This probably does not mean that trumpets and horns should play alongside each other, presumably an octave apart. It is much more likely that tromba denoted from the start tromba da caccia (a synonym for corno da caccia), and that the added line was intended merely to supply clarification. 21 Porpora is known to use the designation “tromba da caccia” in his autograph manuscripts – for example, those of his serenata Angelica (Naples 1720) and opera Meride e Selinunte (Venice 1727) in the British Library (Add. mss. 14,120 and 16,111, respectively). The term was commonly employed by Neapolitan composers, including Pergolesi in L’Olimpiade (1735), Domenico Scarlatti in La contesa delle stagioni (1720) and Paradies in Il decreto del Fato (1740), but never gained currency in Venice among native composers. 22 Compare the aria “Pensa che sei” from Albinoni’s opera Statira (1726), of which an extract is quoted in Michael Talbot, Tomaso Albinoni: The Venetian Com­poser and His World, Oxford 1990, 241. finaltwobarsareAlbinoni’ssoleconcessiontoNeapolitanmodernity;oth­erwise,thisariacouldhavebeenwrittenbyhimtenyearsearlier. Example 1. Tomaso Albinoni: “Quando chiudere pensai”, bars 8–15. Perseo’s “Non ha tranquilloil cor” is a typically Albinonian giga (notwith­standingits“Largoespiccato”tempomarking),andcouldbecomparedwith the12/8finaleofhisconcertoinDmajorwithtwooboesOp. 7no.8(1715). The “darting” interjections of the unison violins during the vocal periods, which are mostlyaccompanied by continuo alone, arehighlycharacteristic of him. This aria also makes use of a Devise – a preliminary, motto-like statement of the voice’s opening phrase. This feature was very popular in vocalmusic around1700buthad fallenfromfavourbythe1720s. Albinoni wastheonlycomposerwho,tomyknowledge,stilluseditfrequently. In Cassiope’s “Rinforzi in te la spene”, which likewise uses a Devise, the opening theme is shared by a known aria by Albinoni. This is “Laudes crucis at tollamus”, contained in a motet (probably a contrafactum of secu­lar music, not necessarily arranged and assembled by Albinoni himself) in Pécs, Hungary.23 Examples 2a and 2b show the ritornellos introducing the “sacred” aria and Cassiope’s aria, respectively. Example 2a. Tomaso Albinoni: “Laudes crucis at tollamus”, bars 1–3. Example 2b. Tomaso Albinoni: “Si rinforzi in te la spene”, bars 1–3. rhythm. The extract shown as Example 3 contains the short orchestral interlude or ritornello closing the main part of the second vocal period and the coda that follows it. Note (a) the elaborately reduplicative cadence of 23 Pécs, Cathedral Archive (Székesegyházi Kottatár), A. 35. The first line of the three-movement motet is “Exsultemus in cruce Domini nostri”. Reinhard Strohm informs me that the same musical incipit is found in Albinoni’s aria Un’aura lusinghiera, from the opera Eumene (1717), preserved in the manu­script X.128 in the library of the Paris Conservatoire. the ritornello (a regular feature of Albinoni’s late style) and (b) the isolated quadruplet groups in the vocal line. The latter are a peculiarity of this composer and arise from a wish to keep the melodic line perfectly con­junct, even when this entails fitting in an extra note.24 The richness of the harmony and texture in this extract reminds one of the slow movements of Albinoni’s Op. 9 concertos (1722). Example 3. Tomaso Albinoni: “Con dolce mormorio”, bars 30–35; continued. 24 A similar instance from a cantata is illustrated in Talbot, op. cit. (n. 22), 140 (ex. 29). Example 3. Tomaso Albinoni: “Con dolce mormorio”, bars 36–38. It is perhaps significant that all three arias for Cassiope were written by the same composer, Albinoni. The thought then arises: could it be that each character’s arias were assigned to a single composer and that this is how the labour of composition was divided? Such a procedure would have had the logic of allowing the composers to coach the respective singers for their arias in one-to-one fashion. The allocation of Perseo’s two arias to Albinoni and Vivaldi, respectively, shows that this modus operandi cannot have been inviolable, but might it nevertheless provide a starting point for further investigation? In fact, the arias for Andromeda, Meliso and Daliso do indeed fall into neat stylistic groups. We know that one aria for Andromeda, “Un occhio amabile”, is by Porta. All the others, including the cavata-like aria “Ma-dre, lascia ch’io senta in prima la libertŕ”, are close in style.25 Porta’s musi­cal language can be described, using today’s jargon, as “Vivaldi-lite”. This is a pared-down version of Vivaldi’s language, lacking all the interesting and idiosyncratic traits.26 It is capable of moments of great beauty, albeit of a rather conventional kind. This ultra-short aria, shown as Example 4, 25 A cavata is a settingin aria style, often with contrapuntal interaction between voice and bass, of one or two lines of recitative verse. It is often employed in situations, such as the end of a composition, where ordinary recitative carries insufficient weight. 26 Porta’s style is examined in Faun Tanenbaum Tiedge and Michael Talbot, The Berkeley Castle Manuscript: Arias and Cantatas by Vivaldi and His Italian Contemporaries, Studi vivaldiani 3, 2003, 33–86, especially 62–65. does its composer credit. Connoisseurs in the original audience may have relished the subtle pun on the word “risolverň”, which in several of its statements is set to a suspension and its resolution. The exuberance of the opening aria of the second part, “Lo so, barbari fati”, which adds pairs of horns and oboes to the orchestra, is almost Vivaldian. Example 4. Porta (?): “Madre, lascia ch’io senta in prima la libertŕ”, complete. Daliso’s arias are written in an old-fashioned style with contrapuntal pre­tensions and an adventurous handling of dissonance. “Se una sorta di stra­li Amor avesse” adds a second (tenor) viola to the orchestra (something that Vivaldi, for example, largely gave up after L’estro armonico, Op. 3, of 1711) and allows the violins to engage in fugal interplay. The later aria, “Peni chi vuol penar”, is even more intensely contrapuntal, as Example 5 demonstrates. One’s suspicion initially falls on Lotti. Marcello would have been a possibility, but his familiar trademarks (the use of supertonic chromatic harmony, wide leaps and figures based on broken chords) are missing. However, Lotti’s textures in his secular (as opposed to sacred) vocal music tend to be much thinner. A better candidate would be An­tonino Biffi, who died in 1732. The bass’s descent in a chain of thirds (F–D–B–G#–E) against ostinato figuration centred on a single note (D) in bars 4–6 matches closely a similar progression found in an identical context close to the start of a Credo in D minor by Biffi.27 The progression is not so common as to make the coincidence insignificant. Example 5. Biffi (?): “Peni chi vuol penar”, bars 1–3; continued. Meliso’s arias are the only ones written in a fully galant Neapolitan style. They possess not only the outward appurtenances (Lombardic rhythms, etc.) of the new style but also its tendency towards pithy, generally quad­ratic, phrase-structure. Such a violin line as the one shown in Example 6, taken from the opening ritornello of “Dalle superne sfere”, could not, in 1726, have been written by any Venetian composer except, possibly, the young Brusa. Its strepitoso quality and the characteristic form of final cadence employed soon became commonplace, also for Venetian compos­ ers, but were at the time very novel. By elimination, one has to propose 27 London, Royal College of Music, MS 48. Porpora as its composer. The superficially busy, but in reality very bland, musical language of both arias fits him perfectly. Example 6. Nicola Porpora (?): “Dalle superne sfere”, opening (violin part only). The duet for Andromeda and Perseo “Sposo amato / Cara sposa”, one of the highlights of the score, is hard to attribute to a composer. It reminds me of Albinoni’s duets, such as the three in his comic intermezzi Pimpinone (1708), in the fluent and transparent contrapuntal interaction of its two vo­cal parts. Albinoni’s authorship would also coincide neatly with his com­position of one of Perseo’s arias. Nevertheless, I find no irrefutable signs of his idiolect in this movement, so caution is in order. The opening of its first vocal section, shown as Example 7, illustrates what a fresh, attractive piece it is. The syncopation for “stringo” (“I clasp”) in bars 18–19 is a deli­cious effect treated more extensively in the second vocal period. Example 7. Tomaso Albinoni (?): duet “Sposo amato / Cara sposa”, bars 10–24. One cannot, of course, omit to discuss Vivaldi’s aria, which is the indisput­able high point of the serenata. Effortlessly, just by being himself, Vivaldi achieves a sweet intensity that outclasses anything else in the serenata and lingers in the memory. It is hard to put one’s finger on the reason for this superiority. His music possesses the classic quality of sprezzatura – the ultimate concealment of art by art. It can impress even when not trying overtly to impress but merely going through the composer’s normal rou­tines. A recent commercial recording by Deutsche Grammophon of Andromeda liberata, stimulated by Vivaldi’s association with the work, proves that this is music well worth resuscitating, even if the idea of a pasticcio is not entirely welcome to our composer-fixated age.28 In turn, this unexpected 28 Reference no. Archiv00289 477 0982. The performers are the Venice Baroque Orchestra and La Stagione Armonica, directed by Andrea Marcon. public interest has led to a decision to publish a facsimile edition of the score in the series Drammaturgia musicale veneta. I will then have the opportunity to return to the music and see whether I can make further headway with the identification of the composers. As a contribution to the study of mythology as a stimulus and resource for musical creation, Andromeda liberata is very marginal. It is typical of its genre in that it plays fast and loose with mythology, ignoring much of the canonic story and taking what is left down unfamiliar paths. The story it­self is squeezed dry: what remains is simply a set of names and a modicum of plot elements. It is relegated to the status of an objet trouvé, to be coaxed into whatever shape the occasion and the music demand. Andromeda’s vacillation (including the specious reason she gives for it subsequently) and Daliso’s gracious admission of defeat really belong to the world of opera seria, not to mythology. But we should not for a moment be shocked by the distortions suffered by the ancient story. This was, after all, only ephemeral entertainment provided during a public reception for an honoured guest. Worse happens in other serenatas. The far-fetched nature of the allegory (Ottoboni as Per- seo, Andromeda as Venice, Daliso as Austria etc.) is in itself an expected ingredient of a jeu d’esprit that it would be pedantic to dissect too thor­oughly. And the music, thankfully, is genuine enough.29 29 I should like to acknowledge here the kind help of Olivier Fourés, Reinhard Strohm, Graham Sadler, Carlo Vitali and Marco Bizzarini in the preparation of this paper. Colin Timms very kindly read the completed paper and made valu­able suggestions. Table 1: Italian-language dramatic works before 1750 based on the Andromeda-Perseus legend, ordered chronologically title genre other description author composer place date Andromeda play tragicommedia boschereccia D. Guazzoni Venice 1587 L’Andromeda opera tragicommedia [per] musica R. Campeggi G. Giacobbi Bologna 1610 L’Andromeda intermedio favola marittima J. Cicognini D. Belli Florence 1618 Andromeda opera favola E. Marigliani C. Monteverdi Mantua 1620 L’Andromeda opera dramma per musica B. Ferrari F. Manelli Venice 1637 L’Andromeda opera festa teatrale A. Pio di Savoia M. Rossi Ferrara 1638 Perseo opera dramma B. Gessi ? Bologna 1642 Andromeda play favola F. Vulpiani Macerata 1643 Il Perseo trionfante opera dramma musicale G. Bartolommei ? Florence 1656 L’Andromeda opera dramma C. Bassi T. Tortona Piacenza 1662 Il Perseo opera dramma A. Aureli A. Mattioli Venice 1665 Il Perseo opera dramma musicale A. Amalteo A. Draghi Vienna 1669 Andromeda opera? dramma O. Bellia ? Palermo 1691 Il Perseo opera dramma P. J. Martelli pasticcio Bologna 1697 Andromeda serenata componimento per musica Venice 1700 Andromeda serenata poemetto drammatico P. Bernardoni A. M. Bononcini Vienna 1707 Andromeda play tragedia V. Gravina Naples 1712 Andromeda serenata poemetto drammatico P. Pariati M. A. Ziani Vienna 1714 L’Andromeda opera dramma per musica G. di Rosa D. Sarri Naples 1721 Andromeda liberata serenata intreccio scenico-musicale V. Cassani pasticcio Venice 1726 Le nozze di Perseo e d’Andromeda serenata azione drammatica A. Marchi G. M. Orlandini Florence 1738 Perseo serenata festa di camera G. C. Pasquini L. A. Predieri Vienna 1738 Table 2: Bibliographical Summary The manuscript of Andromeda liberata comprises a card (cartoncino) cover en­closing 112 folios of musical notation. The format is oblong quarto, and the paper is Venetian (featuring the characteristic tre mezze lune watermark), with ten pre-ruled staves per page. Title on cover [top left-hand corner] P:mo | [lower, centred] Andromeda Liberata | Serenata in Mu-sica 1726 18 7bre Structure Part I: folios gatherings musical numbers hand 1–42 * + 1–9 1–7i Scribe 9 43–60 10–14 7ii–11 x Part II: 61–80 15–19 12–14i Scribe 8 81–92 20–22 14ii–14iii y 93–96 23 14iv–16i x 97–100 24 16ii–18i Scribe 8 (y starts him off) 101–112 25–27 18ii–19 y Note: “7i” means “no. 7, first portion”. Gathering Numbers gathering number folio gathering number folio unnumbered 1r 14 59r [1] 7r 15 61r 2 11r 16 65r 3 15r 17 69r 4 19r 18 73r 5 23r 19 77r 6 27r [20] 81r 7 31r [21] 85r 8 35r [22] 89r 9 39r 23 93r 10 43r 24 97r 11 47r [25] 101r 12 51r [26] 105r 13 55r [27] 109r Table 3 Andromeda liberataRomolo e TazioPsiche Quando chiudere pensaiAPace ogn’un gridaASta palpitanteAla mia vita con gl’affanni,Bcon mesti accenti;Bnel seno il coreBmen severo il ciel provai,CRoma l’implora,Csenza speranzaCparve un’ombra il mio timor.Dche in duol si sface.Dd’aver mai pace.D Madre afflitta sospirai,AA tante stridaAPur sono amanteAe ne’ miei piů fieri danniBche intorno senti,Bdel traditore,Bquel sollievo ritrovaiCSignor, tu ancoraCse ben mia morteEche mi tolse al mio dolor. D rispondi pace. D tentar gli piace. D Andromeda liberataIl tiranno eroeIl nome glorioso in terra Ruscelletti limpidetti,AAllora che spiraAQual passato freddo vernoAche d’intorno a questi fioriBsecondo a lui ’l vento,Bse ne va la rondinellaBmormorate i vostri amori,Ba uscir non sia lentoBquando vien la stagion bellaBl’aspro mio duol ad ogni fior narrate.Cdal porto il nocchiero.Cal boschetto onde partě.C Vezzosetti, ritrosetti,AChe in van poi sospiraACosě di morte a schernoAnon fermate i vostri umori;Dnel grave soggiornoDal tuo torni almo paeseDtra l’acerbi miei doloriDche faccia ritornoDove agl’occhi tuoi disteseD perché col pianto mio li avvelenate? C il vento primiero. A la sua luce il primo dě. C Table 4: Andromeda liberata: List of closed numbers Parte prima 1 Sinfonia Staccato con spirito / Allegro F ? F.a 2 B b .a Coro, Meliso In queste sponde D ? 3 e.Bb Cassiope Quando chiudere pensai A Albinoni 4 Andromeda Un occhio amabile g Porta d.c 5 Perseo Non ha tranquillo il cor Eb Albinoni c.D 6 Cassiope Si rinforzi in te la spene D Albinoni G.e 7 Daliso Se una sorta di strali Amor avesse G ? Biffi C.d 8 Meliso Ruscelletti limpidetti F ? Porpora d.g 9 Andromeda Madre, lascia ch’io senta in prima d ? Porta la libertŕ (cavata) a.F 10 Andromeda Mi piace e mi diletta F ? Porta g.d [9 bis Andromeda Madre, lascia ch’io senta in prima d ? Porta] la libertŕ (cavata) 11 Coro Dall’alto seggio B b ? Parte seconda F.a 12 Andromeda Lo so, barbari fati F ? Porta F.e 13 Daliso Peni chi vuol penar a ? Biffi C.d 14 Meliso Dalle superne sfere C ? Porpora e.C 15 Andromeda Chi č Fenice ad ogni foco F ? Porta d.A 16 Perseo Sovente il sole e Vivaldi b.d 17 Cassiope Con dolce mormorio b B Albinoni d/D.G 18 Andromeda / Perseo Sposo amato / Cara sposa G ? Albinoni 19 Coro, Daliso Riconosco in voi D ? Appendix: The text of Andromeda liberata The text presented below is transcribed from the underlaid text of the score of the serenata. Its spelling and punctuation have been normalized and modernized following conventional criteria. A few small corrections have been made in places where the original appeared defective. Andromeda Cassiope Meliso Perseo Daliso Parte prima Per Popoli, amici, in questo fausto giorno Coro Viva Perseo, viva! in cuiveggoabbattuto delleNereidisuoreil fieroorgoglio Mel Tosto risponda iononcercogliapplausienonlicuro; dal bosco amico, basta che le superbe dal colle aprico di Andromeda che vive eco giuliva. la difesa e ilmio amorpiangan deluse: Coro Viva Perseo, viva! disdegnose e confuse mirino in seno a Teti, Cas O di Giove e di Danae inclita prole, cangiato in duro scoglio il ministro crudel della vendetta. in me vedi una madre permandel tuovalorserbata invita; Chepiůdunques’aspetta? Sciolgansi questi lacci della bella innocente. al tuo trionfo applausi deggio anch’io, or che dal tuo valor rimiro e sento cangiatoinsicurezzailmiospavento. E ravvisi ogni ninfa, ogni pastore, di Perseo fortunato Quando chiudere pensai nel braccio invitto l’amoroso core. la mia vita con gl’affanni, Mel Signor, l’ira del fato fiaccasti col valordellatuadestra; men severo il ciel provai, parve un’ombra il mio timor. opportuno soccorso alcomunedolor silenzio impose; io non credea giŕ pisu questi campi lieto condur la greggia, nérallegrarcolcantoilregio armento; Madreafflittasospirai, ene’mieipiů fieridanni quel sollievo ritrovai che mi tolse al mio dolor. or tua mercé mi sembra men grave il peso di canuta etade, e parmi che risorga in me vivace la giŕ perduta e sospirata pace. And Sciolta dai ceppi e giŕ sottratta a morte, iodovreialtuo amorlasuamercede; ma sappi, Perseo, sappi che di mia libertŕ questi che il cielo Mel In queste sponde,in lieti cori, ninfe e pastoricantino il gaudioche in noi s’avviva. Per milasciatuamercé miseriavanzi rendono la mia vita dello stesso morir meno gradita. Nulla adunquetuapprezzi delmio providoamorleproveeil merto? And Per Gratitudine il vieta. E chifiamai Andromeda infedel uscita appena dalle mani di Cloto And Per che tenda nuoveinsidie allamiapace? Una fiammavivace che Daliso gentil nel cor m’accese pimisera mi fa di quel che fui. Spietata, vanne a lui, ché immerso in mille oggetti nulla cura il tuo amore. Cas Per Cas congl’occhie[con la]lingua parlňsě che potea disperar ogni amante. Andromedainfedel?Perseo,t’inganni. Testé mi disse che Daliso accende un foco in lei maggior d’ogn’altro foco. Mal credi se cicredi. And O non lo sa o non lo crede il core. Un occhio amabile Tu suo sposo esser dei, e questi furo i giuramenti miei. che mi piag, labbro adorabile che mi allett, tutta mi tolgono la libertŕ. Néfiapossibile che il suo rigor renda insoffribile Dal Sirinforziinte laspene di quel bene che felice ti pufar. Colpiacerechemifingo mi lusingo didarfine al tuo penar. Da ché il destin mi trasse, Per il mio dolor perché non perdono la sua beltŕ. O ingrata, se potesti obliaresěpresto il mio amor, la mia fede, il tuo dovere! sventurato Daliso, a queste spiagge in traccia di fortuna pifelice, cercai tra questi colli e queste selve all’afflitto miocorpaceeconforto. O quante ninfe io vidi languird’amoreesospirartradite; altrein lietasembianza Ah non pi, non pimai sarŕch’iotirivegga;ilcielch’čgiusto punirŕ l’error tuo. Io misero e tradito, abbandonato amante, soffrirtacendole cocentifiamme; ebbi pietŕ di loro, e anch’io talvolta penai al lor penar, piansi al lor pianto. Poi colto anch’io nella piverde etade allora ben conobbi fuggirquesto cielo, lascierqueste arene. Lasso,chefiadime, che fias’ioparto? Vo’vedermela a fronte; che amore č un misto de piaceri e pene, ma sempre il male č assai maggior del bene. Se una sorta di strali Amor avesse, vo’ ch’ella sappia almeno ilmiofierotormento, e questa ognor gradita, o che felice vita chel’amoancora; e poi m’andrň contento. sarebbe quella di chi vive amante! Nonhatranquillo ilcor chi vive amante, né sa che sia dolor chi amor non prova. Ma se [or]pietosi orfierieglilivibra, come essere pumai che sempre molti guai si possa nell’amaresser costante? Cas Per Se poi l’amato ben si fa incostante, č un male che il peggior non si ritrova. Signor, quale improvviso dolort’ingombral’alma? Giustacagionmi sforzaapiangesempre. Mel O vicende funeste de’ mortali! Lagioiachepareammicosěbella cangia sembiante, e d’improvviso male l’alma riëmpie, che non ben l’intende. Miseri, a quale stato siamocondotti? E qualeorrendofine ci minaccia il cielo, onde sdegniefuroreognivallerisuona? Invan si spera, e invano e si priega e si piange. O tempi, o sorte! Perseo giura vendette, e niega ingrata Andromeda la fede alle promesse. Questa nuova sciagura, che mi sembra un fantasma, un sogno, un’ombra, d’eccessivo dolor l’anima ingombra. Cas And Cas Troppo ingrata mi sembri espergiuramifai, selo rifiuti. Mi piace e mi diletta l’eroe che mi salv, ma piquella saëtta d’Amor che mi piag. Al talamo di Perseo Ruscelletti limpidetti, che d’intornoaquestifiori mormorate i vostri amori, l’aspromioduol adognifior narrate. Vezzosetti, ritrosetti, And la ragione ti chiama, e ormai io veggio in periglio l’onor, se non risolvi. Madre, lascia ch’io senta in prima il core in libertŕ, e poi risolver. nonfermate ivostri umori; tra gl’acerbi miei dolori perchécolpiantomioliavvelenate? Coro Dall’alto seggio a noi discenda pronubo e placido dei numi il re. Cas Figlia, non pidimore. O torna a’ lacci e alla primera sorte o in Perseo riconosci il tuo consorte. Dal vostro amore sui nostri altari And Madre, lascia ch’io senta in prima il core in libertŕ, a lui si giuri onor e fé. e poi risolver. Parte seconda And Chesarŕ, cuore afflitto? And Ah Daliso, Daliso! Se tu avessi Sperigiammai pertepropiziastella? questa del mio dolor pietŕ che dici, Ah! che ben io m’avveggio tanto ver me crudele non saresti. che tra spene e timor ten’ stai sospeso, Dal Giŕnemicod’Amoramarnonvoglio; perché forse non sai, povero core, Andromeda, lo sai:ama, ch’čgiusto, che chi č nato al penar vive al dolore. il tuo Perseo fedel, che ben lo merta. Io parto. Lo so, barbari fati, And Almenonon partirsěpresto. che perfidialmiobenvoiv’opponete Odi pria che tu parta sěcrudeliefieri. quanto caro mi sei, quanto mi piaci. Dal Se da me speri amore, Se meco congiurati la speranza čundeliro. e privi di pietŕ che siete, And Tiranno! In questa guisa il cor lo sa solo, severi. l’amormiotudisprezzi? Dal Bella, con tal rigore Dal La tua nemica sorte della mia libertŕ serbo il piacere. tantom’affligee tanto, And Piacerchetroppočfiero ché se ben tu non vedi a quest’alma, o Daliso, che in te vive. quest’occhi a lagrimar, ne scopri il pianto. Dal Mapiacer, che migiova? And Arder mi sento č lo stesso che volere Dal di sdegno e di furore. Giŕ te lo dissi, ancor non voglio amore. Per mendicar la crudeltŕ. Pria che del sole i rai Mel Peni chi vuol penar, ch’io lungi dall’amor vo’ viver sciolto. Nonvo’sentirnelpetto le smanie dell’affetto né il core a sospirar nel duolo absorto. Pria che la déa triforme giungaatentardelmezzociellametta vedrem compiute le comuni brame. Giorno pifortunato sperarnon lice; a noi se ne venga Imeneo, e in seno ai sposi sparga fecondo e lieto gigli e rose, né mai destino audace And Per tornino ad indorar sul sangue il mondo, vedrai le nostre faci in nobil gara adinfiammarsiilpetto. Tu pure del mio affetto scoprirailefinezze per compiere l’onor di questo giorno. E Arcadia scorgerŕ che il ciel destina che tu sia la mia sposa e mia regina. Sovente il sole risplende in cielo pibello e vago, se oscura nube giŕ l’offusc. avveleni il piacer, turbi la pace. Dalle superne sfere, lieto Imeneo, discendi, e tu, notte, distendi ilvelch’asconde ildě. E il mar tranquillo quasisenz’onda talor si scorge se ria procella giŕ lo turb. Su, dillo, alato Amore, che unisti core a core, se colpo pifelice dallatua destrauscě. Mel Perseo,Andromeda,amici:čtempoormai ch’andiamo al tempio, dove sull’are preparate ilgrandesacrifizio, siconsumi, e rendasi l’onor ai sommi déi, And Per And Haigiŕvintoduevolte,oPerseoamato: pria mi togliesti le catene al piede, poscia costante amore per man di bella fé la diede al core. Dunque pinon t’accende quella fiamma onde pria n’ardea il core? Questa č la mia vendetta: il dissi, č vero; Cas cui del nostro gioir devesi il merto. Andiam,Meliso;dasělieti auspicii sperar mi giova per favor de’ numi il ciel ognor sereno, la greggia lieta e il praticel piameno. Con dolce mormorio chiaro sen’ corra il rio, Per And ma sol perprova della tuacostanza. Iltimor,la speranza, la gelosia, l’amore mi fecero soffrir pene di morte. Godi or della tua sorte, eachit’amaetisprezza[recte,prezza?] costante adorator serba la fede. e l’ussignol volando di verde fronda in fronda tutti i sensi d’amor spieghi col canto. Si accenda ogni desio del faretrato dio, e l’aura sussurrando Chi č Fenice ad ogni foco, farfalletta ad ogni lume mal intende quel piacere che sa dar la fedeltŕ. D’ogni bella farsi gioco, ingannare per costume Dal piplacida e gioconda accresca il mio piacer, compensi il pianto. Perseo,chétardipiů? Vedigliallegri cori di ninfe e di pastori accolti peraccrescerlapompaa’tuoitrionfi. Andromeda, tra noi non v’č chi pidi me goda in mirarti fatta sposa di Perseo e fuor d’affanni. Dal Riconos[co]in voipiůbello And Se dei gravi miei danni il godimento, tanta pietate avesti, e me’l ricordo, né rio tormento credere non ti posso vi tolga dal goder. bugiardo adorator di mia fortuna. Andianne, Perseo, al tempio ivi si chiuda Coro A trionfar inpresenzadeinumie’lvotoe’lgiorno. si vegga il vero affetto, Per Chiudasi, e quindi nasca e sia l’oggetto l’augurio fortunato del nostro bel piacer. d’un amore tra noi sempre beato. Dal Del lungo amar And Sposo amato, sia questa la mercede. Per Cara sposa, Giŕ della fede a 2 In questo amplesso non lice pitemer. stringo al petto il mio tesoro. Coro Dunquefiaver a 2 Dal piacer che sento in esso che un fidoeveroamante, puoi saper quanto t’adoro. s’egli č costante, alfin giungeagoder. Mitologija v službi evlogije: serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) POVZETEK Klasicna mitologija in anticna zgodovina sta priskrbeli vecino vsebin italijanskih glasbenodramskih del 17. in 18. stoletja. Vendar pa se liki in dogajanja velikokrat razlikujejo od tistih v izvirnih literarnih ali zgodo­vinskih delih. Da bi se vsebina bolje prilagajala zahtevam druge zvrsti, so lahko predelani do take mere, da je izvirnik komajda še prepoznaven. V nobeni zvrsti ni to tako ocitno kot pri serenati (ali dramatski kantati), katere najpogostejši namen je bila obeležitev kakega slavja, na primer ob rojstvu ali poroki. Knjižnica beneškega Conservatorio Statale »Benedetto Marcello« hrani rokopisno partituro petglasne serenate z naslovom Andromeda libe­rata (Osvobojena Andromeda) neimenovanega avtorja in z datumom 18. september 1726. Iz datuma na rokopisu in vsebine libreta lahko sklepamo, da je bila serenata poklon beneškemu plemstvu, ki ga ponazarja lik An-dromede, in kardinalu Pietru Ottoboniju, ki ga pooseblja Perzej. Kardinal je bil od leta 1726 po dolgem obdobju izgona spet dobrodošel v svojih rodnih Benetkah in je mestu zato namenil vrsto zabav. Ohranjen je zgolj najosnovnejši obris izvirnega mita: ostal je le klin, na katerega je libretist lahko obesil lik junaka – Ottobonija kot Perzeja. Iz zaznamka v sodobnem rokopisnem seznamu serenat bi lahko skle­pali, da je bil libretist tega dela Vincenzo Cassani. V prid tej identifikaciji govori tudi obstoj podobnega Cassanijevega besedila za serenato iz istega casa in ponavljanje dolocenih pesniških idiosinkrazij. Zanimivo je tudi, da je glasba te serenate verjetno delo razlicnih skla­dateljev. Andromeda liberata je v tem pogledu edinstvena, saj ne poznamo nobenega drugega primera pasticcio serenate. Morda razloga za vkljucitev vec skladateljev ne gre iskati toliko v prihranku casa kot v želji, da bi bila serenata dejansko kolektivni poklon beneških glasbenikov. Eno arijo z obligatno violino je nedvomno napisal Antonio Vivaldi, ki je verjetno tudi igral solisticni part. Druga arija (z obligatnim celom) je izpod peresa Gio­vannija Porte, ki je bil »maestro di coro« (zborovodja) v zavetišcu Pietŕ. Štiri arije so verjetno delo Tomasa Albinonija (ena od teh ima isti incipit kot neka njegova na drugem mestu ohranjena arija). Avtorstvo preostalih arij, ansambelskih tock in celotnega recitativa bo treba še ugotoviti, ce­prav se nekaj možnih imen že ponuja (Porpora, Biffi). Nedvomno bo v prihodnosti še veliko priložnosti za natancnejšo ana­lizo Osvobojene Andromede. Pred kratkim je založba Deutsche Gram-mophon izdala zvocni posnetek te serenate in v zbirki Drammaturgia musicale veneta je v pripravi faksimilna notna izdaja s spremnim komen­tarjem avtorja tega besedila. Delo bo odlicen uvod za nadaljnje preuceva­nje zvrsti serenate, jezika beneške vokalne glasbe dvajsetih let 18. stoletja, ustaljenih formul, ki so jim sledila besedila serenat, in ne nazadnje upora-be in zlorabe mitoloških motivov. Partenope da sirena a regina: il mito musicale di Napoli DINKO FABRIS Le origini di Napoli, una delle capitali della musica europea, affondano in un mito musicale. La fondazione della cittŕ, infatti, sarebbe avvenuta sul corpo senza vita di Partenope, una delle Sirene sconfitte da Ulisse, giunta sulla odierna spiaggia di Posillipo. In onore di Partenope fu eretto un al- tare e poi organizzati dei giochi sulla spiaggia, e da questi simboli sarebbe nato il culto della sirena sparso in tutta l’Italia meridionale, ed eretta la cittŕ chiamata appunto Partenope. Ma chi erano le Sirene e in che cosa consiste la natura musicale del loro mito? Straordinario simbolo musicale tramandatoci dall’antichitŕ greca, ma diffuso in tutto il mondo in forme diverse, le Sirene sono una presenza costante nelle raffigurazioni artistiche e letterarie giunte sino a noi da epoche remote e ci parlano di eventi leggendari, di visioni magiche e di desideri irrealizzati, al confine del bene e del male, tra l’esistenza e la fine della vita. L’Italia meridionale, il territorio conosciuto come Magna Gre­cia, ha immaginato per secoli queste alate musiciste nate da un fiume del-l’Attica e le ha acquisite alla propria tradizione rituale, che costantemente mescola culti pagani e un cristianesimo superstizioso e colorito. IL MITOMUSICALEDELLE SIRENE La prima caratteristica che distingue le antiche Sirene mediterranee dal­ l’immagine della donna-pesce delle fiabe d’infanzia č che il loro corpo ha la forma di uccello (Fig. 1). Questo ci appare piů logico trattandosi di esseri che incantano con il loro straordinario canto, che non č un attributo tipico dei pesci. La loro nascita č attribuita ad un evento cruento: nella lotta con il loro padre Acheloo, figlio di Oceano e il piimportante dio fluviale dell’antichitŕ, l’eroe Eracle ruppe uno dei corni dell’avversario facendone scaturire gocce di sangue divenute le Sirene.1 Secondo altre Károly Kerényi, Glidei e gli eroi della Grecia (Die Mythologie der Griechen, 1963), Milano 1984, 57. Un primo nucleo di fonti letterarie ed iconografiche sulle Sirene mediterranee fu raccolto durante il mio soggiorno come Fellow del Warburg Institute di Londra nel 1994 e poi incrementato nei dieci anni suc­ versioni esse erano figlie della profonditŕ della terra (Ctonia) e compagne della dea degli inferi Persefone che le inviava a prelevare le anime morta­ li.2 La presenza delle ali e degli artigli deriva dal loro compito funerario di traghettatrici delle anime verso l’aldilŕ, confondendosi cosě in parte con le Arpie.3Per “pari opportunitŕ”, come le anime dei defunti maschi erano invogliate ad abbandonare volentieri la vita dal canto e dalle dolci parti femminili visibili, alle donne erano inviati muscolosi e barbuti Sireni ma-schi (Fig. 2a e 2b).4 Le Sirene sono anche simbolo del desiderio amoroso, anche se destinato a rimanere inappagato. I marinai che gettano l’ancora davanti alla loro isola, chiamata Antemoessa, dimenticano mogli, figli e patria e si perdono per sempre.5 Ma č la musica il segno di distinzione di questi esseri strettamente associati alle Muse e alle loro arti. Infatti per i Greci le Sirene sono fi­ glie della Musa della danza, Tersicore, ed esse stesse sono quasi sempre ritratte in gruppi di due o tre, nell’atto di cantare accompagnandosi con strumenti musicali a corde e a fiato.6 Nella cosmogonia della Repubblica di Platone (che giŕ aveva paragonato Gorgia alle Sirene) sono descritti otto cerchi intorno a un fuso cosmico e su ognuno dei cerchi posa una Sirena “emettendo una voce di un unico tono” e le otto Sirene producono cosě una sola armonia sulla quale le Moire (Lachesi Cloto e Atropo) emettono variazioni canore.7 Le Sirene sono dunque parte essenziale dell’armonia delle sfere, sonoro motore portante dell’universo. cessivo grazie alla collaborazione di istituzioni e persone troppo numerosi per ricordarli tutti in questa sede. Mi limito a ringraziare il collega John Griffiths e il personale della Faculty of Music della Melbourne University (Australia) per l’aiuto nella preparazione della mia MacGeorge Lecture, che in parte anticipava contenuti discussi in questo saggio, e la dottoressa Metoda Kokole direttrice dell’Istituto di Musicologia di Lubiana per l’invito e la sempre preziosa collabo­razione. 2 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58. 3 Georg Weicker, Der Seelenvogel in der alten Literatur und Kunst, Leipzig 1902; Eva Hofstetter, Sirenen im archaischen und klassischen Griechenland, Würzburg 1990. 4 Georg Weicker, Sirenen, in: Roscher’s Lexicon V [W. H. Roscher, Ausführli­ches Lexicon der griechischen und rmischen Mythologie], Leipzig 1897–1902, coll. 601–633; Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58. 5 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 59; Hermann Koller, Musik und Dichtung im alten Griechenland, Bern, München 1963, 45–48; trad. it. del paragrafo dedicato a Sirene e Muse, in: Musica e mito nella Grecia antica, a cura di D. Restani, Bologna 1995, 104–107. Koller sostiene la comune origine di Muse e Sirene da gruppi di Ninfe dedite al canto e alla danza con la kithara. 6 Hofstetter, op. cit. (n. 3); con ampia iconografia. 7 Platone, La Repubblica (X, 617b) II [trad. it. di Francesco Gabrieli con testo greco a fronte], Milano 1981, 378. Le origini letterarie delle Sirene elleniche risalgono ad Omero ed Esiodo,8 ma i cicli epici degli Argonauti, di molto anteriori a quegli omeri­ci, riportano giŕ una prima sconfitta delle Sirene, come riferisce assai pitardi Apollonio Rodio (III secolo):9 sulla nave Argo tra i tanti eroi si trova Orfeo che, in vista di Antemoessa, copre col suono potente della sua lyra le canore lusinghe delle Sirene, consentendo un sicuro approdo. Inviate da Persefone, le Sirene non possono consentire il passaggio di umani vivi senza perire a loro volta, ma per questa volta sono salve perché sconfitte da un semidio armato solo di sonora cetra. Non passa invece Agesicora (in Alcmane) e neppure il sacrilego Tamigi, umano citarodo giŕ punito con la cecitŕ per aver osato sfidare le Muse ed ora ucciso.10 Ma gli esseri alati sembrano avere poca memoria e le stesse Sirene secondo Ovidio furono spennate dalle Muse per essersi troppo vantate di un’arte da quelle deri­vata.11 La vendetta indiretta delle Sirene su Orfeo fu la perdita di Euridice appena riottenuta da Persefone e lo strazio del suo corpo compiuto dalle Menadi da lui abbandonate. Del resto, Orfeo č in tutto simile alle Sirene essendo figlio di un dio fluviale e di una Musa; in realtŕ egli incarna in terra il potere di Apollo, gemello della dea vergine Artemide e come lei insuperabile nell’uso dell’arco che č insieme strumento musicale e sim- bolo di morte e giustizia divina. Il rapporto tra Muse e Sirene č costante. Č Apollo citaredo che guida il concerto delle Muse in Elicona. In quanto considerate anche Ninfe danzatrici con fattezze umane, le Sirene adorano e incarnano le Muse al confine tra vita e morte.12 Le alate cantatrici non sopravvissero invece alla sconfitta inflittale dall’umano re di Itaca. Odisseo č “il grande mentitore” dell’antichitŕ ma anche l’infaticabile esploratore dell’ignoto. Istruito da Circe sconfisse le Sirene con uno dei suoi stratagemmi (Fig. 3): tappate le orecchie dei compagni con la cera, si fece legare all’albero maestro della nave e poté ascoltare il canto di due Sirene delle quali Omero non fa il nome ma di cui tramanda il testo:13 8 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58–59; Koller, op. cit. (n. 5), 104 e sg. 9 Apollonio Rodio, Argonautiche (IV, 891 e ssg.); cfr. Koller, op. cit. (n. 5), 104. 10 Koller, op. cit. (n. 5), 105. 11 Ovidio, Metamorfosi (V, 552–563); Cfr. Valeria Gigante Lanzara, Il segreto delle Sirene, Napoli 1986, 83–87. 12 Koller, op. cit. (n. 5), 104–107. 13 Omero, Odissea III (Libro XII, vv. 184–200) [trad. it. con testo greco a fronte di G. Aurelio Privitera, edizione a cura di A. Heubeck], Milano 1981, 147–149; nelle note alle pagg. 312 e ssg. Il curatore di questa edizione condotta per la Fondazione Lorenzo Valla riassume le informazioni e la bibliografia relativa alle due Sirene descritte da Omero (per bocca di Circe, Libro XII, vv. 39–55) ed ai problemi connessi alla loro non adeguatezza ai modelli iconografici offerti dall’archeologia mediterranea. “Vieni, celebrato Odisseo, grande gloria degli Achei, e ferma la nave, perché di noi due possa udire la voce. Nessuno mai č passato di qui con la nera nave senza ascoltare dalla nostra bocca il suono di miele, ma egli va dopo averne goduto e sapendo picose. Perché conosciamo le pene che nella Troade vasta soffrirono Argivi e Troiani per volontŕ degli dei; conosciamo quello che accade sulla terra ferace.” Cosě dissero, cantando con bella voce: e il mio cuore voleva ascoltare e ordinai ai compagni di sciogliermi, facendo segno cogli occhi: ma essi curvi remavano … … Ma quando le superarono e piů non s’udiva La voce delle Sirene né il loro canto, subito i fedeli compagni la cera levarono che gli spalmai sulle orecchie, e dalle funi mi sciolsero. Le lusinghe delle Sirene erano evidentemente mirate sui desideri piintimi della loro preda: cosa poteva attrarre maggiormente Odisseo del se­greto della conoscenza? Sconfitte, forse punite per aver svelato segreti non destinati ai mortali, le Sirene si lasciarono cadere nel mare dove perirono, dopo un tragico volo narrato in versi da Licofrone.14 Le immagini antiche di questa celebre scena presentano sempre tre Sirene e a volte ne indicano i nomi: Telsinoe “l’incantatrice”, Aglaope “colei che ha la voce splendida”, Peisěnoe “la seduttrice”. Un altro nome che si incontra nei vasi č quello di Imeropa “che con la voce suscita il desiderio”.15 Ma nel territorio italico della Magna Grecia i nomi diventano quelli di Partenňpe “la virginale”, Leucosěa “la dea bianca” e Lěgeia “colei che ha la voce chiara”; la prima č al centro e canta, al suo fianco la seconda ha una lyra e l’ultima un doppio aulos o altro strumento a fiato.16 Il concerto č perfetto. Ma una volta scon­fitte nel mare Tirreno, i loro corpi si spiaggiarono in localitŕ simboliche in cui furono poi venerate come dee: Ligeia a Terina in Calabria, Leucosia a Sorrento, mentre alle sponde di Napoli giunse Partenope.17 La letteratura dell’antica Roma rese le Sirene ormai proverbiali: Si­ 14 Lanzara, op. cit. (n. 11), 50–55. 15 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58. Cfr. anche Robert Graves, The Greek Myths 2, Lon­ don 1960, 361 e ssg. 16 Ibidem; Lanzara, op. cit. (n. 11), 55–61. 17 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58; Lanzara, op. cit. (n. 11), 55–61. Cfr. inoltre la vasta letteratura che narra dell’arrivo delle Sirene sulle sponde della futura cittŕ di Napoli: Nicola Corcia, De’ diversi miti di Partenope per spiegare l’origine di Napoli fondata dalla Sirena Partenope, Atti della R. Accademia di Archeolo­gia, Lettere e Arti V, Napoli 1870; Giovanni De Petra, Le origini di Napoli. 1. Il mito delle Sirene, Annuario storico del Comune di Napoli I, Napoli 1912; Dinko Fabris, La cittŕ della sirena. Le origini del mito musicale di Napoli nell’etŕ spagnola, in: Napoli viceregno spagnolo. Una capitale della cultura alle origini renes usque in exitium dulces (“Sirene dolci fino a morire”) e Catone il Grammatico era detto “Latina Siren”.18 Claudiano, riprendendo Ovidio, le descrive quasi come vere donne abitanti la costa peloritana della Sicilia, mentre Plinio le aveva poste sul promontorio di fronte a Capri. Intorno al V secolo a. C. il culto delle Sirene era giŕ diffuso nell’Italia meridionale ed in particolare nell’area napoletana, costituendo una varian­te locale del culto delle tre Erinni, esseri infernali col compito di punire le anime condannate e anch’esse originate da gocce di sangue divino. Re-perti archeologici siciliani, campani ed etruschi dimostrano che le Sirene musicali (a volte la lyra č sostituita da arpa o salterio e altre volte compaio- no tamburelli a cornice e percussioni) erano considerate demoni e il loro culto a volte coincideva con pratiche apotropaiche superstiziose. Infatti la loro raffigurazione nei vasi della Magna Grecia č costante e contribuisce a creare un emblema simbolico di esorcismo rituale coreutico-musicale. Come tale l’immagine della Sirena resta per tutto il periodo ellenistico e romano e sopravvive tenacemente durante i primi secoli del Cristianesi-mo, con le inevitabili sovrapposizioni simboliche. Alcune tombe raffigu­rano le Sirene che “rasserenano” le anime beate nell’Eliso, ma Porfirio, filosofo del III secolo d.C. allievo di Plotino, č il primo ad associarle al desiderio che porta al peccato e quindi alla rovina dell’uomo, la tipica visione cristiana.19 Una volta identificate con il simbolo di desiderio peccaminoso, il Me-dioevo cristiano lentamente spoglile Sirene del loro aspetto originale di uccelli e le trasformin mostri marini, sulla scorta di Ovidio, ma anche per la somiglianza con le protagoniste di leggende nordiche come Ran, l’ondina che insidiava i naviganti.20 In un manoscritto medievale di Oxford col titolo De animalibus aquosis et primo de sirene si riportano i versi di Cecco D’Ascoli “Canta si dolcemente la sirena / che chi lei intende dolce fa dormire / si che lo prende e seco lo mena”, illustrati da un esplicito dise­gno di donna-pesce che afferra un marinaio (Fig. 4).21 Del resto le Sirene dell’Europa moderna (sec. XVI–XVII) II, a cura di M. Bosse e A. Stoll, Napoli 2001, 473–501. 18 “Cato grammaticus, Latina Siren, qui solus legit ac facit poetas”: Svetonio, De Grammatica (XI, 4); Cfr. Lanzara, op. cit. (n. 11), 71. 19 Heinrich Schmidt, Margarethe Schmidt, Die vergessene Bildersprache christli­cher Kunst, München 1981; e trad. it.: Il linguaggio delle immagini. Iconografia cristiana, Roma 1988, 105. 20 Loc. cit. 21 Oxford, Bodleian Library, Ms. Can. Ital. 38, c. 54v: “De animalibus aquosis et primo de Sirena”. Molto simile č il disegno che accompagna la descrizione delle Sirene nell’altro manoscritto della stessa biblioteca di Oxford, 764, c. 74v: “Syrene sicut dicit phisiologus mortifera sunt …”. Per una antologia di defi­nizioni medievali della Sirena (ma in traduzione spagnola) si veda Bestiario medieval, a cura di I. Malaxecheverría, Madrid 1986, 132–137. Cfr. inoltre per erano figlie di un dio col corpo di serpente marino e si confondevano giŕ anticamente con le Nereidi.22 Il pesce č un simbolo cardine del Cristianesimo primitivo. Per questo le ali della Sirena uccello diventano due code di pesce (una esprime il male, l’altra il bene) avvinghiate, o piů spesso tenute separate con le mani dalla mezza-donna, in un estremo gesto di seduzione ma forse anche, cri­stianamente, di scelta tra le due vie (Fig. 5).23 Eppure anche cosě trasfor­mata in mostro marino bicaudato la Sirena non perde le sue doti sonore. Nei chiostri della Catalogna il musicologo Marius Schneider ha scoperto l’esatta corrispondenza della Sirena, presenza diffusa nell’architettura ro­manica europea, con una precisa nota del sistema musicale gregoriano.24 Ma altre volte l’associazione con la musica č dimenticata. Quando nei bassorilievi romanici si intravvede un viso pifemminile, la lunga chioma puň ricordare le graziose ondine del romanticismo tedesco, ma piů spesso l’aspetto antropomorfo č reso orribile per ricordarne il simbolo di morte, da cui la loro immagine vuole proteggere come uno scongiuro. La Sirena puassumere l’atteggiamento del vampiro, come per esempio a St. Ber­ trand de Comminges (Fig. 6). Ciň che il mondo antico mediterraneo non aveva mai espresso chiaramente ma solo lasciato intuire č ora un simbolo evidente a tutti: la Sirena medievale č l’angelo della morte. I fischietti in terracotta a forma di Sirene-uccelli non sono dissimili da quelli zoomorfi e colorati tuttora fabbricati in molti centri della Puglia e della Basilicata che ne mantengono la funzione apotropaica di esorcismo sonoro. Anche vasi proveniente dall’Istria (VI secolo a. C.) hanno la mede­sima forma di Sirena-uccello dei reperti greci e italici (Fig. 7). Usare la figura di una Sirena per esorcizzare la morte ed i suoi spettri č un uso comune anche fuori e lontano dal territorio di influenza greca. Alfons A. Barb ha svelato l’esistenza di numerosi nomi nelle diverse cul­ture per simili demoni che emergono dal mare per recare fastidi ma a volte anche rimedi agli uomini: la greco-romana Antaura (da “anti” e “aura” cioč il vento di scirocco che procura malanni), l’assira Lilitu, l’ebraica Lilith e tanti altri esseri negativi fino al pitemibile, l’oscura signora de­ una panoramica ancora piampia sulla diffusione del mito anche nell’Europa rinascimentale e oltre: Mythical Beasts, a cura di J. Cherry, London 1995, 152– 167 (con numerosi riferimenti iconografici e letterari). 22 Kerényi, op. cit. (n. 1), 58–59; Koller, op. cit. (n. 5), 104 e sg. 23 H. Schmidt, M. Schmidt, op. cit. (n. 19), 105–106. 24 Marius Schneider, Gli animali simbolici e la loro origine musicale nella mito­logia e nella scultura antiche, Milano 1986, passim. L’originale era apparso in lingua spagnola col titolo El origen musical de los animales-simbolos a Barcel­lona nel 1946 e ne era stata estratta una sezione edita in tedesco come Singende Steine (Kassel 1955) conosciuta in italiano col titolo Pietre che cantano. Studi sul ritmo di tre chiostri catalani di stile romanico (Milano 1976). gli abissi, Abzu dei sumeri, chiamata nelle fiabe europee la “nonna del diavolo”.25 A queste altre Sirene si contrappone il baluardo cristiano della Vergine Maria “Stella Maris” o “Aura”, con una serie di complesse so-vrapposizioni (in greco vergine si dice “Parthenos”).26 Demoni volanti (Gijn) maschi e femmine affollano le Mille e una notte. Perfino l’estremo oriente ha Sirene musiciste in tutto simili a quelle alate dei Greci: una suo­natrice di “liuto di luna” č raffigurata in argento su una stoffa di seta della dinastia T’ang oggi al Louvre di Parigi. Orecchini e altri monili a forma di Sirena sono comuni ai popoli del mondo, e ancora una volta riportano alla simbologia sonora per la vicinanza con l’organo elettivo dell’udito.27 Le due Sirene andine del lago Titicaca, Quesintuu e Umantuu, furono per la prima volta descritte nel 1612 e dopo di allora le Sirene dilagano nel-l’America latina, sempre con coda di pesce e con strumenti musicali che ne dichiarano la sensualitŕ peccaminosa. Il caso piinteressante si ritrova a Cuzco dove due mostri marini, un maschio ed una femmina, recano sul dorso uno scudo con l’anagramma di Maria, come Antaura nei confronti della Maris Stella.28 Derivata invece direttamente dalla tradizione greca classica, attraverso la cultura bizantina-ortodossa, č la presenza ossessiva nella pittura devozionale russa fino ai nostri giorni dell’uccello del para­diso chiamato Sirin, in cui solo il volto resta umano.29 PARTENOPE FONDA LA CITTŕ DI NAPOLI (Fig. 8) Piů leggende confluiscono nel complesso mito di fondazione della cittŕ di Napoli, una delle poche al mondo a fondarsi su un simbolo musicale. Il corpo privo di vita di Partenope, l’alata Sirena cantante, sarebbe giunto sulla spiaggia di Megaride, dove il primo nucleo di greci arrivati in Cam- pania le costruě un sepolcro-templio, nel luogo esatto dove sorge oggi il Castel dell’Ovo, luogo denso di riferimenti magici.30 Il culto si diffuse 25 Alfons A. Barb, Antaura the Mermaid and the Devil’s Grandmother, Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes 29, 1966, 1–23. 26 Cfr. Roberto De Simone, Il segno di Virgilio, Pozzuoli 1982, passim. 27 Un esempio molto evidente č un orecchino aureo in forma di Sirena con lyra conservato al Metropolitan Museum di New York, che fu esposto alla mostra Greek Gold. Jewellery of the Classic World, Londra, British Museum, 1994. 28 Teresa Gisbert, Iconografía y mitos indígenas en el arte, La Paz 1980, 46–51. 29 Sull’uccello sirin nelle stampe popolari russe Cfr. Angeli e demoni. Il fantastico popolare russo, a cura di F. Ciofi degli Atti, Venezia 1993, in particolare 47–50, con molte riproduzioni. 30 Della vasta letteratura misterica sulle origini di Partenope – Neapolis – Napoli non possiamo dar conto in questo scritto (si leggano comunque le belle pagine di Salvatore di Giacomo, Napoli, Milano 1930). Una ricca fonte informativa č il cit. De Simone (n. 26). talmente che, secondo Strabone, al tempo di Pericle fu inviata nella cittŕ di Partenope – ormai chiamata Neapolis – una spedizione di ateniesi che in onore della dea Sirena, oltre a giochi ginnici, iniziarono una fiaccolata a mare, confluita poi nelle successive feste di Posillipo.31 BasandosisuStazio,glistoricinapoletanidelsecoloXVIcomePonta-no e Summonte – che vollero recuperare il mito musicale della fondazione della cittŕ per reagire alla perdita del rango di capitale dopo l’occupazione spagnola – raccontarono che Partenope era una principessa vergine greca, figlia del re di Tessaglia Eumelo che, guidata da una colomba, sarebbe giun­ta sulla costa napoletana fondando la cittŕ che da lei prese il nome dopo aver sconfitto la colonia dei Cumani. Dopo la sua morte, divenuta dea, furono celebrati i suoi riti in un templio sulle cui rovine fu edificata la chiesa di S. Giovanni Maggiore a Napoli. Il culto di questa “vergine” fondatrice di ori­gine greca si sovrappone a quello di Apollo Ebone, il dio giovane e “vergi-ne”identificatocolSole(laradicepersianadelnome“sir”oCiro,compreso nellacostellazionediSirio,altraidentificazionedellaSirena)cheebbeilsuo templio nel cuore di Napoli dove oggi sorge il Duomo. Nel mito di fonda­zioneconfluisconoancoraaltrielementi:lafiguradelpoetalatinoVirgilio, consideratonelmedioevoaNapoliunmagoechiamato“Parthenias”(ilVer­ginello) e la figura cristiana di Maria “Vergine”, che nell’immaginario dei napoletani prese il posto della antica Sirena come protettrice della cittŕ, i cui santuari si sostituirono agli antichi templi pagani.32 A rafforzare il recupero del mito di fondazione della cittŕ di Napoli durante il secolo XVI giunsero alcune circostanze occasionali. Nella prima metŕ del secolo fu ritrovata in cittŕ una statua di origine greca raffigurante una Sirena-uccello che spande latte dal seno. La Sirena fu incastonata in una fontana appositamente costruita che tuttora č possibile vedere a pochi passi dall’Universitŕ e dal Rettifilo, una delle vie centrali di Napoli, nota come “fontana delle zizze” o “di Spinacorona”. Č possibile che l’originale fosse a sua volta derivato dal modello di una scena musicale di tre Sirene che troviamo riprodotta in almeno un vaso sopravvissuto. Certo non per caso la Sirena “delle zizze” č divenuta nel libro di Giulio Cesare Capaccio, Delle imprese, il perfetto “emblema della cittŕ di Napoli”.33 (Figg. 9–11) Non molti decenni dopo la Sirena incorporata nella fontana, sempre nel sottosuolo di Napoli fu ritrovata una testa di statua greca che fu subi-to riconosciuta come Partenope, la vergine regina greca figlia di Eumelo re di Tessaglia e fondatrice di Napoli: la data del ritrovamento, 1594, e l’identificazione con la vergine greca si trovano nell’immagine riprodotta 31 Cfr. la preziosa sintesi di Giovanni Pugliese Carratelli, Sul culto delle Sirene nel golfo di Napoli, La parola del passato. Rivista di studi classici 7, 1952, 420–426. 32 De Simone, op. cit. (n. 26), 84–99; Fabris, op. cit. (n. 17), passim. 33 Cfr. Fabris, op. cit. (n. 17), 476 e figg. 1–3. nel Seicento nell’ Historia della Cittŕ e Regno di Napoli di Pietro Sum­monte.34 (Fig. 12) Abbiamo detto che fin dalla piremota antichitŕ il canto e la musica erano associati ai messaggeri volanti del mondo infero (Sirene-uccelli o Seelenvogel). Nel mondo spagnolo e soprattutto a Napoli fin dal secolo XV bambini vestiti da angeli intonavano mottetti e canti nelle cerimonie funebri piů importanti: durante il Seicento questo compito venne affidato ai “figlioli” dei quattro celebri conservatori di musica cittadini, nati come trasformazioni di alcuni orfanotrofi per insegnare ai giovani allievi un mestiere sicuro. All’angelo era accostata la leggenda di Filomela, l’usignolo che un poeta napoletano utilizza per esaltare la bravura del primo importante cantante evirato napoletano, Donatello Coya (morto nella peste del 1656).35 Alle voci degli angeli nei cori delle chiese e dei conventi femminili napo­letani si contrappongono le nuove Sirene.36 I confini tra queste categorie di esseri alati sono labili. Giovannella Sancia, la picelebre cantatrice napoletana del Cinque­cento, che aveva incantato gli ascoltatori con i suoi canti lascivi, entrin convento negli ultimi anni di quel secolo e dedicla sua arte canora al cielo. Dopo di lei fu Adriana Basile a incantare gli ascoltatori col suo canto accompagnato dall’arpa, oltre che con il suo aspetto fisico, tanto da essere chiamata “la Serena de Napule”: delle figlie musiciste di Adriana, una entrin monastero a Roma e l’altra continul’arte materna fino ad incantare il poeta Milton.37 Se la chiesa inveě spesso contro le lascive lu­singhe delle nuove Sirene (donne cantanti e commedianti, attori del melo­dramma, castrati) il popolo napoletano non ebbe dubbi nel riconoscere la reincarnazione del mito di Partenope nei suoi figli ambigui e meravigliosi, i cantanti evirati, forzati “Vergini” e incantatori prodigiosi: sono formati a Napoli i nomi piů illustri, da Matteuccio a Nicolino Grimaldi, e poi Fari­nelli, Caffarelli, Reginella, Scirolino, Millico.38 Angeli quando eseguono 34 Cfr. De Simone, op. cit. (n. 26), 78–82 e Fabris, op. cit. (n. 17), 482, fig. 5. 35 Manoscritto inedito inserito in un esemplare dei Carmina di Ottavio Menini (Venezia 1613), venduto prima del 1994 dall’antiquario Bottega Apulia di Mario Somma, Bari (attuale collocazione ignota). 36 “… le due opposte polaritŕ, la lode celeste, e il fascino sensuoso, che il dualismo moralistico barocco configura nei due simboli dell’Angelo e della Sirena”: Gino Stefani, Musica Barocca 2. Angeli e Sirene, Milano 1987, 95. 37 Fabris, op. cit. (n. 17), 478 e 483. 38 Alcune schede sui grandi cantanti castrati, in gran parte nati in Puglia ma di formazione napoletana del Settecento, si trovano nel catalogo della mostra Il tempo di Niccolň Piccinni, a cura di Clara Gelao e Michčle Sajous D’Oria, Bari 2000, 137–139, con relativa iconografia. il repertorio sacro nelle chiese, sono queste le vere Sirene dei teatri euro-pei nel secolo XVIII. Le Sirene, dopo aver cantato madrigali rinascimentali, calcarono le scene dello spettacolo europeo dal Ballet comique del 1582 ai tornei e piů tardi ai melodrammi ispirati ai palazzi incantati di Ariosto e Tasso. La scena napoletana č, naturalmente, particolarmente ricca di Sirene e so- prattutto della presenza sistematica di Partenope in quanto raffigurazione simbolica della cittŕ di Napoli (cfr. la tabella seguente). FESTEE SPETTACOLI MUSICALICON PARTENOPE E SIRENE NELLA NAPOLI VICEREALE 1620 Delitie di Posillipo Marittime e Boscarecce, festa a ballo: “aria di 3 Sire-ne” di Giovanmaria Trabaci 1648 Partenope restaurata dal serenissimo ed invittissimo principe d. Giovan­ ni d’Austria, festa 1649 Partenope liberata, festa: musiche strumentali di Andrea Falconieri pub-blicate a Napoli nel 1650 1658 Feste per la nascita dell’infante Prospero Felice: torneo con i Cavalieri di Partenope 1673 La Pia Contesa nel solennizar la festa degli otto nuovi Santi e Beati del-l’ordine di S. Domenico nella cittŕ di Napoli a 2 febbraio : tra i personaggi Spagna, Italia, India e Partenope Ossequi di Partenope espressi nel festino celebrata dalla Nobiltŕ napole­tana a gloria del viceré Marchese d’Astorga Marcello in Siracusa melodramma al teatro S. Bartolomeo: nel Prologo entrano Partenope, Sirena e Marte 1674 Massenzio melodramma al teatro S. Bartolomeo: tra i “personaggi finti” 2 Sirene 1676 Il Teodosio melodramma al teatro S. Bartolomeo (replicato 1677): nell’Ap­parenza V “Sebeto e Choro di Ninfe si vedono nel fiume e preveggono la felicitŕ di Partenope” 1680 Eteocle e Polinice melodramma: nel Prologo “da una parte la Monarchia di Spagna sopra Carro Trionfale tirato da leoni, e dall’altra parte altro Carro Trionfale con Partenope tirato da ninfe” Partenope, Apollo, Le Nove Muse 1686 Iberia e Partenope festanti nella nascita del Principe infante 1688 Processione dell’Eletto di Napoli in onore del viceré de las Navas: Carro a forma di nave con “attorno molte Sirene con instromenti da suono” 1692 La Sirena Consolata. Serenata per la recuperata salute della Maestŕ di Marianna di Neoborgo, testo di Andrea Perrucci e musica di Cataldo Amodei 1696 Il Genio di Partenope, la Gloria del Sebeto, il Piacere di Mergellina “In-troduzione alla Mascherata di ballo nella Gran Sala del Real Palazzo”, musica di Alessandro Scarlatti 1699 La Partenope melodramma al teatro di S. Bartolomeo, testo di Silvio Stampiglia e musica di Luigi Mancia. Questo libretto fu replicato almeno 15 volte fino al 1725 in varie cittŕ italiane e in Messico nel 1711. 1708 Amore nel cuore di Partenope serenata testo di Giuseppe Papis musica di Francesco Mancini per celebrare l’insediamento del primo viceré austriaco 1709 Festa in musica per il compleanno della regina di Spagna con testo di Giuseppe Papis e musiche di Alessandro Scarlatti: tra gli elementi scenici “7 Fontane con statue di Sirene, Tritoni, ed altri simulacri … nel quale essendo disposto senza vedersi i Musici e i Sonatori” 1713 Il Genio Austriaco serenata testo di Giuseppe Papis musica di Alessandro Scarlatti: tra i personaggi Genio Austriaco, Zeffiro, Flora, Partenope e il Sebeto 1715 Siren Sagata et Togata “certamen musicum” musica di Nicola Fago 1716 Partenope, Teti, Nettuno, Proteo e Glauco serenata in Palazzo Reale di Alessandro Scarlatti 1720 Scherzo festivo tra le Ninfe di Partenope festa musicale a Palazzo Reale testo di Domenico Gentile, musica di Domenico Sarro Partenope aveva calcato molte volte le scene teatrali durante il Sei­cento, ma la prima opera a lei dedicata, nel 1699 a Napoli con musica di Luigi Mancia, non parlava della Sirena bensě dell’ omonima greca regina Partenope. Il libretto era di Silvio Stampiglia, poeta arcade romano che alcuni anni prima aveva giŕ composto un fortunato testo per Bononci­ni. Nella Partenope, dedicata alla viceregina spagnola di Napoli, la storia d’amore e di vendetta dell’amante abbandonata, Rosmira principessa di Cipro, e del suo ingannatore Arsace, č in realtŕ un contorno all’impresa bellica condotta dalla regina Partenope: difendere la cittŕ appena fondata che ne porta il nome dall’attacco dei Cumani.39 Gli spettatori che a Napoli nel 1699, o a Venezia nel 1725, o a Cittŕ del Mexico nel 1711 e ancora a Londra nel 1730 si recavano al teatro d’opera risultava chiaro che Par-tenope rappresentava il mito della cittŕ piů musicale del mondo, Napoli, che dall’antica Sirena mediterranea aveva tratto il nome e il potere di se­ duzione del canto. L’identificazione era plausibile perché da almeno due secoli la cittŕ partenopea aveva sviluppato una tradizione musicale senza confronti, con l’orgoglio autoreferenziale dei tanti e celebrati virtuosi che da essa partivano alla conquista del pubblico europeo di essere “figli della Sirena Partenope”. Il testo di Silvio Stampiglia fu ripreso almeno 15 volte nei vent’anni successivi e nel carnevale 1725 giunse a Venezia, forse come omaggio in morte del librettista Silvio Stampiglia appena scomparso.40 Fu incaricato della musica il calabrese Leonardo Vinci che presentl’opera col titolo mutato in Rosmira fedele: fu un trionfo ed un evento storico perché per la prima volta un compositore meridionale dominava le scene veneziane. Leonardo Vinci (Strongoli di Crotone c. 1696 – Napoli 1730) aveva compiuto una carriera fulminante, soprattutto in campo teatrale. Mastricello e poi maestro nel Conservatorio dei Poveri di GesCristo di Napoli, dove ebbe probabilmente come allievo Giambattista Pergolesi, fu al servizio privato del Principe di Sansevero Raimondo di Sangro entran-do poi nella Real Cappella. Le sue 14 opere comiche a partire dal 1719 lo misero in evidenza come il piů fecondo autore napoletano del momento, soprattutto grazie al successo di Zite ’n galera. Ma č soprattutto la sua produzione di opere serie (circa 25 titoli) ad aver attirato l’attenzione dei contemporanei, in particolare grazie alla collaborazione con Metastasio del quale musicper primo finché visse tutti i libretti tranne Didone ab-bandonata, opera di Domenico Sarro: la sua collaborazione con quest’al­tro importante maestro napoletano (Trani 1679 – Napoli 1744) č molto in-teressante. Sarro aveva presentato la sua Partenope a Napoli nel 1722, con testo rinnovato dallo stesso Stampiglia e il grande successo ne procurla ripresa l’anno seguente a Napoli e nel 1724 a Roma. La Rosmira proposta da Vinci a Venezia era in realtŕ una rielaborazione della partitura del col­ 39 Cfr. Robert Freeman, The Travels of Partenope, in: Studies in Music History. Essays for Oliver Strunck, a cura di H. Powers, Princeton 1968, 356–385; Dinko Fabris, Naples in Opera: Partenope by Leonardo Vinci (1725), in: Il trionfo di Italia, a cura di R. Strohm (Atti del convegno di Utrecht 2004), Utrecht 2006, in stampa. 40 Cfr. Reinhard Strohm, The Neapolitans in Venice, in: Con che soavitŕ. Studies in Italian Opera, Song, and Dance, 1580-1740, a cura di I. Fenlon e T. Carter, Oxford 1995, 259; ristampato in Reinhard Strohm, Dramma per Musica. Italian Opera Seria of the Eighteenth Century, New Haven, London 1997, 61–80. lega Sarro, alla quale aggiunse di suo tutte le arie e molti recitativi oltre alla sinfonia.41 L’opera piacque e grazie alla Sirena fondatrice di Napoli, Vinci poté avviare una breve ma luminosa carriera internazionale. Il successo della prima veneziana di Rosmira fedele ossia Parteno­pe di Vinci fu riportato al grande compositore tedesco Georg Friedrich Händel (Halle 1685 – Londra 1759), sempre in cerca di novitŕ da offrire al pubblico di Londra. La musica di Vinci fu spedita in Inghilterra, pro- babilmente giŕ in forma di “pasticcio” col titolo di L’Elpidia e Händel ne diresse l’esecuzione londinese.42 Il livello artistico della musica di Vinci aveva evidentemente impressionato l’autorevole collega, tanto che Händel allestě numerosi altri pasticci di musiche del calabrese a Londra, e nel 1730, anno in cui scomparve Vinci, presentň al teatro di Haymarket la sua propria Partenope. Il libretto usato in questa occasione dal Sassone era lo stesso antico testo di Stampiglia (musicato a Venezia da Caldara nel 1708, durante il soggiorno di Händel), non molto diverso da quello della Rosmira fedele di Vinci e Sarro ma con diversa distribuzione delle voci e senza imprestiti musicali tratti dai compositori italiani.43 Händel, che proprio nel 1708 aveva condotto un autentico pellegrinaggio verso Napoli per conoscere Alessandro Scarlatti, giŕ in altre opere italiane aveva inse­ rito arie “alla napoletana” e aveva perfino fatto cantare delle Sirene (in Rinaldo, 1711).44 In questo modo Partenope diviene l’omaggio di Händel alla cittŕ della Sirena, Napoli, come capitale europea del canto e dell’opera in musica nel Settecento. Anche Venezia rese a sua volta omaggio alla Sirena nel 1738 quando Vivaldi presentla sua Rosmira, in realtŕ un pasticcio con arie anche di altri autori.45 Piů tardi a Londra nel 1757 Felice Giardini musicň anco­ra Rosmira fedele. L’ultimo avvenimento significativo fu la festa teatra­le Partenope scritta da Metastasio e musicata da Hasse nel 1767 per il matrimonio del re di Napoli Ferdinando con Maria Giuseppa d’Austria.46 41 Cfr. Fabris, op. cit. (n. 38), in stampa. 42 Loc. cit. e inoltre Strohm, op. cit. (n. 39), 259 e ssg. 43 Per il libretto di Händel si rinvia a I libretti italiani di Georg Friedrich Händel e le loro fonti II (1726–1733), a cura di L. Bianconi e G. La Face Bianconi, in pre­ parazione; Cfr. inoltre Marco Beghelli, L’ereditŕ veneziana di Georg Friedrich Haendel ovvero La Partenope, dalla Laguna al Tamigi, Quadrivium 4, 1984, 7–51. 44 “Il vostro maggio / de’ bei verdi anni, / o cori amanti, / sempre costanti / sfiorate in amore. / Né un falso raggio / d’onor v’affanni, / ch’č sol beato / chi amante amato / possede un bel core.”: Rinaldo (London 1711), II.3, Aria a 2 Sirene. La scrittura di Händel in questo brano evoca vistosamente le melodie popolari caratteristiche dell’Italia meridionale. 45 Livia Pancino, Le opere di Vivaldi nel raffronto fra libretti e partiture. VIII: “Catone in Utica”; “Rosmira (fedele)”, Studi vivaldiani 3, 2003, 3–30. 46 Cfr. Raffaele Mellace, Johann Adolf Hasse, Palermo 2004, 135–135, 294 e ssg. L’ultima Partenope fu una commedia in un atto presentata a Napoli nel 1798 in cui la Sirena sconfitta da Ulisse canta per l’ultima volta sulla riva della sua cittŕ.47 La Sirena aveva giŕ lasciato il lido di Napoli, questa volta per sempre. 47 Partenope. Dramma in un atto per musica da rappresentarsi nel Teatro de’ Fiorentini nel carnevale di questo corrente anno 1798 (Napoli 1798), musica di Antonio Benelli (“tenore nel sudetto Teatro”), scene di Luigi Grassi napoletano, con i personaggi di Partenope (Luigia Villanova), Epaminonda (il celebre basso comico Gennaro di Luzio), Pelidoro (Giovanni Pace), Tisbea (Marianna Belolli) e lo stesso Benelli nel ruolo di Ulisse. Cfr. Claudio Sartori, I libretti italiani a stampa dalle origini al 1800. Catalogo analitico con 16 Indici, 7 voll., Cuneo 1990–1994, n. 17854. La Partenope di Metastasio era stata invece presentata a Vienna come “Festa teatrale da rappresentarsi in musica nell’Imperial Re-gio Teatro festeggiandosi i felicissimi sponsali di Ferdinando IV di Borbone re delle due Sicilie e di Maria Giuseppa d’Austria l’anno 1767”, con le musiche “di Adolfo Hasse, maestro di capella all’elettorale corte di Sassonia”: Cfr. Sartori, op. cit., n. 17845 e ssg. Fig. 1. Pittore di Nessos, Sirena-uccello, frammento di vaso attico, fine VII sec. a. C., Amburgo, Museum für Kunst und Gewerke; riprodotto nel volume di Eva Hofstetter, Sirenen, Würzburg 1990, Tafel 8. Fig. 2a. Monaco di Baviera, Staatliche Antikenslg. SPK Oinockoe 235: coppia di sireni barbuti; riprodotto nel volume di Eva Hofstetter, Sirenen, Würzburg 1990, Tafel 2. Fig. 2b. Sireno musicante in moneta antica di Napoli riprodotta da Giulio Cesa­re Capaccio, Neapolitanae Historiae, Napoli 1607. Fig. 3. Ulisse sconfigge le Sirene, pittura vascolare greca, V secolo a. C., Lon-dra, British Museum; riprodotto nel volume di Eva Hofstetter, Sirenen, Würz-burg 1990, Tafel 27. Fig. 4. Illustrazione dal manoscritto Oxford, Bodleain Library, Ms. 764, c. 74v (Per gentile concessione della Bodleian Library). Fig. 5. Sirena bicaudata, decorazione di soffitto ligneo francese circa 1225, Musée de Metz (Per gentile concessione del Musée de Metz). Fig. 6. Sirena-pipistrello, stalli della cattedrale di St. Bertrand di Comminges (Per gentile concessione della cattedrale St. Bertrand di Comminges). Fig. 7. Vaso in forma di Sirena, Istria, fine VI sec. a. C.; riproduzione nell’Archivio fotografico del Warburg Institute di Londra (per gentile concessio­ne, 1994), attuale collocazione non individuata. Fig. 8. Partenope fonda la cittŕ di Napoli, stampa fine sec. XVIII, Milano, Castello Sforzesco, Collezione della stampe Bertarelli. Fig. 9. Partenope fa scorrere latte dalle mammelle, kalpis proveniente da Sorrento, presso Napoli, circa 330 a. C., Berlino, Charlottenburg, F 3031; riprodotto nel volume di Eva Hofstetter, Sirenen, Würzburg 1990, Tafel 28. Partenopa od sirene do kraljice: glasbeni mit o Neaplju POVZETEK Nobeno mesto na svetu razen Neaplja ni dobilo svojega simbolnega zna­menja ali celo imena po kakem glasbenem simbolu. Mit o ustanovitvi tega mesta namrec pripoveduje o pevki sireni Partenopi, eni od treh sester, ki jih je porazil zviti Odisej, edini smrtnik, ki ni podlegel caru njihovega pe­tja. Truplo premagane Partenope je po mitološkem izrocilu morje naplavi-lo na neapeljsko obalo in mesto so zato poimenovali po tej sireni. Po casu, ko je bil Neapelj prestolnica Aragonskega kraljestva, je v letih 1503–1707 mesto pripadalo Španiji. Sledilo je krajše obdobje avstrijske oblasti do leta 1734, ko je Karl Burbonski ponovno ustanovil Neapeljsko kraljestvo. V zacetku španske vladavine so neapeljski renesancni literarni ustvarjalci (na primer Pontano in Summonte) ponovno odkrili stari mit o sireni, ustanoviteljici mesta, in Partenopa je postala simbolna poosebitev Neaplja, mesta pesmi in petja. Partenopa se je v 17. stoletju velikokrat pojavljala na neapeljskih gledaliških odrih: na glasbenih slavjih, v baletih ali serenatah (dramatskih kantatah). Prva opera s tem naslovom pa je bila v Neaplju uglasbena šele leta 1699 na libreto arkadskega pesnika Silvia Stampiglie. Vendar v tej operi nenastopasirena,temvecprotagonistkanekegadrugegamitaoustanovitvi Neaplja: deviška kraljica Partenopa, hci tesalskega kralja. V tem delu sta oba vzporedna mita prepletena še z vrsto drugih simbolov. Stampigliev libretojedoživelvelikuspeh,sajsogakotpredlogozasvojaglasbenadela uporabili številni skladatelji, med katerimi so bili Luigi Mancia, Antonio Caldara,DomenicoSarro,AntonioVivaldiidr.,kisosvojadelauprizarjali v raznih italijanskih in evropskih gledališcih. Opera je bila leta 1711 upri­zorjenacelovMexicoCityju. Vendar pa vrhunec uspeha opere Partenopa predstavlja beneška uprizoritev iz leta 1725, ko je za potrebe tamkajšnjega obcinstva Leonardo Vinci priredil zgodnejšo Sarrovo partituro in jo opremil s svojimi na novo napisanimi arijami in nekaterimi drugimi tockami. Vincijevo glasbo za Partenopo je nato še istega leta uporabil Georg Friedrich Händel v svojem pasticciu Elpidia. Händel je na isti libreto pozneje tudi sam uglasbil opero Partenopa, ki predstavlja enega zadnjih poklonov Neaplju, glasbeni pre­stolnici Evrope in mitu sirene – kraljice. Il fregio con le storie di Giasone dipinto dai Carracci a Palazzo Fava, Bologna GIOVANNA PERINI Sembrerebbe quasi impossibile dire alcunché di nuovo sul fregio con le Storie di Giasone dipinto dai Carracci a Palazzo Fava verso il 1584, de­butto artistico ufficiale dei tre cugini a Bologna in un’impresa (sia pur pri­ vata) di ampio respiro: dall’analisi stilistica a quella tecnica, dall’indagine iconografica a quella strutturale e narratologica, dall’individuazione del programma alla ricerca filologica delle fonti verbali e visive che presiedo- no ad esso ed alla sua attuazione, dallo studio della committenza a quello del contesto socio-culturale, parrebbe che non vi sia proprio luogo per ulteriori contributi.1 Eppure almeno un problema, e non di minor portata, č rimasto irri­solto: perché proprio questo soggetto, per Palazzo Fava? Un’analisi siste­matica dei cicli ad affresco dipinti a Bologna nei palazzi cittadini (per non parlare delle ville del contado) nel corso del Cinquecento č ancora da fare, tuttavia il sondaggio preliminare condotto da Anton Boschloo sui princi­ pali cicli documentati evidenzia la relativa raritŕ del genere mitologico.2 Predomina semmai la storia antica, come a Palazzo Vizzani con le Storie di Alessandro e quelle di Ciro o a Palazzo Magnani, con le Storie di Ro­molo e Remo, o a Palazzo Torfanini, con le Storie di Tarquinio il Superbo; sacra, come a Palazzo Barbazzi, con le Storie di Davide o come al piano nobile di Palazzo Poggi (Storie di Susanna, Mosč, Davide e Creazione); contemporanea, come nell’inedito ciclo di giustamente anonimo, perché men che mediocre, pittore cinquecentesco in un palazzo di Via Marsa­la ora sede della Scuola Superiore di Studi Umanistici dell’Universitŕ di 1 In particolare vedi saggi e schede del catalogo della mostra curata da Andrea Emiliani, Bologna 1584: Gli esordi dei Carracci e gli affreschi di Palazzo Fava, Bologna 1984 (con discussione dell’ampia bibliografia precedente); Clare Ro­bertson, I Carracci e l’invenzione: Osservazioni sull’origine dei cicli affrescati di Palazzo Fava, Accademia Clementina: Atti e Memorie, 23, 1993, 271–305; e infine Stephen Campbell, The Carracci, visual narrative and heroic poetry after Ariosto: The “Story of Jason” in Palazzo Fava, Word and Image, 18/3, 2002, 210–230. 2 Anton W. A. Boschloo, Il fregio dipinto a Bologna da Niccolň dell’Abate ai Carracci (1550–1580), Bologna 1984. Bologna, in cui viene immortalato il corteo per l’Incoronazione di Carlo V);3 in alternativa vi sono le divagazioni su temi letterari (l’Eneide, nelle altre sale di Palazzo Fava e a Palazzo Leoni; l’Odissea a Palazzo Poggi; l’Orlando Furioso a Palazzo Torfanini). Il ciclo con le Storie di Ulisse al pianterreno di palazzo Poggi (in incerto rapporto con quello, perduto, dipinto nella distrutta villa suburbana di Ulisse Aldrovandi) rientra nel filone letterario, derivando dall’Odissea, ma, nel caso della villa di Al-drovandi, comprende un deliberato omaggio all’eroe eponimo del padrone di casa, e quindi rivela una motivazione fortemente personale e specifica nella scelta del soggetto.4 Dei Fava e del loro palazzo si sa quanto ebbe occasione di render noto Luigi Spezzaferro nel catalogo di una mostra che ebbe luogo circa vent’anni fa, a marcare il quarto centenario del disvelamento di quegli af­freschi:5 da quel saggio si evince, tra l’altro, che i Fava, agiati membri della borghesia intellettuale cittadina con aspirazioni (alla lunga soddisfatte) di elevazione sociale, avevano acquistato i lotti urbani su cui avrebbero fatto sorgere il palazzo che ancora reca il loro nome (e che attualmente ospita un hotel di lusso) nel 1546, e che in esso venne ad abitare Filippo Fava dopo aver sposato Ginevra Orsi (della celebre famiglia patrizia, senato­ria) nel 1579. In precedenza, i Fava avevano abitato sempre in centro, in una casa (da tempo distrutta) affrescata per loro da Pellegrino Tibaldi, di nuovo con un ciclo di storie di vario soggetto mitologico, tra cui spiccava, ricordata da Malvasia, una scena con “una Medea che con gl’incantesimi ringiovenisce Giasone” (cioč, semmai, Esone), e dunque in evidente rap-porto con le Argonautiche.6 Un tema “famigliare”, dunque? Parrebbe proprio di sě, e forse con le implicazioni di ambito magico e medico ipotizzate da Spezzaferro e 3 Sulla fortuna dei cicli ad affresco di storia contemporanea o dinastica nei pala­ zzi italiani vedi Julian Kliemann, Gesta dipinte: La grande decorazione nelle dimore italiane dal Quattrocento al Seicento, Milano 1993. 4 Vedi in generale Marco Lorandi, Il mito di Ulisse nella pittura a fresco del Cinquecento italiano, Milano 1995, specie 40, 75, 89, 94, 103, 122, 129, 142, 161, 165–167, 172, 176–177, 181, 187, 225, 232–233, 238, 249, 254, 273, 279, 284, 296, 303, 309, 312–313, 324–325, 327, 329, 371, 375–376, 397–398, 402–403, 412–413, 418, 424, 429, 433, 445, 465–466, 485–486, 542–543, 556, 559–560, e, in particolare, Lina Bolzoni, Parole e immagini per il ritratto di un nuovo Ulisse: l’“invenzione” dell’Aldrovandi per la sua villa di campagna, in: Eliza­beth Cropper, Giovanna Perini e Francesco Solinas (a cura di), Documentary Culture: Florence and Rome from Grand Duke Ferdinand I to Pope Alexander VII, Bologna 1992, 317–348. 5 Luigi Spezzaferro, I Carracci e i Fava: Alcune ipotesi, in: Emiliani (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 1), 275–291. 6 Ibidem, specie 276, 283, 285. Cfr. Carlo Cesare Malvasia, Felsina Pittrice, Bo­logna 1841, I, 154. riconducibili agli interessi e alla professione di alcuni esponenti della fa-miglia prima di Filippo, ivi compreso suo padre, ma non solo: č lo stes-so Spezzaferro a osservare come sia “un po’ meno ovvio [...] il fatto che la rappresentazione di tale mito sia stata immediatamente riproposta nel nuovo palazzo Fava, e ciň non solo perché, nel momento in cui essa venne realizzata, nella famiglia del committente non c’era piů (e da oltre una decina d’anni) alcun medico filosofo, ma anche perché”,7 aggiungo io, nel 1582, giusto cioč all’epoca presunta della commissione degli affreschi, l’arcivescovo bolognese Gabriele Paleotti aveva pubblicato in italiano, a tiratura limitata – per distribuirne qualche copia agli artisti in voga del momento onde sondarne le reazioni ed ascoltarne i pareri – i primi due libri del Discorso intorno alle immagini sacre e profane, ove le raffigura­ zioni di scene mitologiche erano esplicitamente condannate.8 E’ vero che lo stesso Spezzaferro ci tiene a rimarcare una presunta rivalitŕ culturale, prima ancora che politica, tra il Cardinal Legato Pier Donato Cesi (col suo protettore, il papa bolognese Gregorio XIII) da un lato, e il Cardinal Paleotti dall’altro, ma non credo che ambizione dei Fava, amici del Cesi, fosse il far visibilmente la fronda contro l’Arcivescovo, usando allegorie pagane che non potevano certo dispiacere al Legato Cesi se questi, nel 1560–1565, Vicelegato a Bologna sotto Pio IV, aveva divisa-to un programma di recupero politico-culturale ed urbanistico della cittŕ, solo parzialmente realizzato, il cui fulcro visivo č costituito dal paganis­simo Nettuno del Giambologna che corona la fontana in Piazza Maggiore e che la statua del Mercurio (progettata, ma mai realizzata, dal medesimo scultore) avrebbe dovuto richiamare nel cortile dell’Archiginnasio testč costruito per ospitare lo Studio.9 E Cesi, poi, apparteneva ad una famiglia di grandi collezionisti d’antichitŕ romane:10 basti ricordare che, a Roma, la 7 Spezzaferro, op. cit. (n. 5), 285. 8 Gabriele Paleotti, Discorso intorno alle imagini sacre e profane, ristampato in Paola Barocchi (a cura di), Trattati d’arte del Cinquecento, Bari 1960–1962, II, 117–509, specie 289–293 (Cap. X, “Delle pitture di Giove, Apolline, Mercurio, Giunone, Cerere et altri falsi dei”). 9 Vi accenna Spezzaferro, op. cit. (n. 5), 282, ma vedi la recente traduzione ita­ liana dei saggi in materia di Richard Tuttle, Piazza Maggiore: Studi su Bologna nel Cinquecento, Venezia 2001, specie 141–191, 193–201 e la sintesi interpreta­tiva ricavatane da Irving Lavin, Passato-presente nella storia dell’arte, Torino 1994, 93–124. 10 Sulla collezione Cesi vedi Claudio Franzoni, “Rimembranze d’infinite cose”. Le collezioni rinascimentali di antichitŕ, in Salvatore Settis (a cura di), Memo-ria dell’antico nell’arte italiana: I. L’uso dei classici, Torino 1984, 304–360, specie 324, 328–331, 333, figg. 112–114 (con bibliografia precedente) e Patri­cia Falguieres, La cité fictive: Les collections de cardineaux ŕ Rome au XVIe sičcle, in: Les Carraches et les decors profanes, Roma 1988, 215–333, specie pp. 274–275, 297, 313, 317 Vedi anche, passim, Flaminio Vacca, Memorie di collezione Cesi costituě il nucleo fondamentale della successiva collezione Ludovisi e che, nel 1556, essa era stata puntualmente descritta da Ulisse Aldrovandi, che l’aveva visitata.11 Cipremesso, non credo persia irrilevante ricordare come il tema delle Argonautiche (“a subject by no means common in monumental art”, chiosa Stephen Campbell)12 abbia viceversa avuto una discreta fortuna, nel Quattrocento, per la decorazione dei cassoni nuziali, forse a causa del-la fedeltŕ (in realtŕ molto vendicativa, quando non ricambiata) di Medea nei confronti di Giasone:13 proprio questo uso potrebbe contribuire a spie­gare la scelta di utilizzare le storie di Giasone nella decorazione del salone del nuovo palazzo che Filippo andň ad abitare con l’aristocratica consorte, tanto piche la fortuna del soggetto č documentata anche nei cassoni di ambito bolognese. Non sarŕ perň inutile evidenziare qui, incidentalmente, un altro dato, sin qui ignorato: proprio nel 1584 (data apposta dai Carracci sotto la finta statua di Zeus), e precisamente il 1 giugno, i destini dei Fava e degli Orsi si intrecciavano nuovamente grazie al matrimonio (celebrato nel decoratis­simo oratorio di Santa Cecilia) tra Giulia Fava (figlia di Scipione, medico e filosofo, e cugina di III grado di Filippo) e Arrigo (o Enrico) di Orsino varie antichitŕ trovate in diversi luoghi della cittŕ di Roma (1594), Roma 1988, 28, 32, 34 e, soprattutto, la testimonianza grafica di Marten van Heemskerk, giŕ segnalata da Franzoni, riprodotta e commentata da Elena Filippi in: Marten van Heemskerk, Inventio Urbis, Milano 1990, tav. 49, pp. 107–108, scheda 49. 11 Sulle vicende della collezione Ludovisi vedi, nella serie de Il museo Nazionale Romano: Le sculture curata da Antonio Giuliano, il volume I/4 di Beatrice Pal-ma, I Marmi Ludovisi: Storia della collezione, Roma 1983, specie 11–13, e, piů recentemente, Giulia Fusconi, La fortuna dei Marmi Ludovisi nel Cinquecento e Seicento, in: Antonio Giuliano (a cura di), La Collezione Boncompagni Lud­ovisi: Algardi, Bernini e la fortuna dell’Antico, Venezia 1992, 19–43. 12 Vedi Campbell, op. cit. (n. 1), 211, che ne ricorda un esempio genovese, il fregio di Villa Centurione Doria. 13 Lo stesso Campbell (ibidem, 220–221, fig. 11) riproduce una miniatura di soggetto argonautico di Apollonio di Giovanni, picelebre come proprietario, a Firenze, di una rinomata bottega di pittori di cassoni. (Su di lui vedi il classico saggio di Ernst H. Gombrich, ristampato in: Norma e forma: Studi sull’arte del Rinascimento, Torino 1973, 18–42). Sul rapporto tra scene di cassoni e decora­zioni ad affresco a Bologna nel Cinquecento, vedi Campbell (ibidem, 229, n. 37), con bibliografia precedente. Sui cassoni, specialmente fiorentini, vedi il classico repertorio di Paul Schubring, Cassoni, Lipsia 1915: consultando il ricco corredo iconografico nel volume delle tavole (contenente 542 immagini) si pos­sono osservare ben 8 pezzi (compreso un frammento padovano ivi attribuito a Bernardo Parentino e che č parte dei due cassoni Giustiniani di cui si dirŕ infra, note 15, 16) che racchiudono episodi della saga degli Argonauti, e segnatamente tavv. LXXI, nn. 296–297; LXXXIII, n. 349; XCII, nn. 389–390; CXXXVI, n. 616; CXLV, n. 669; CXLVIII, n. 676. Orsi, lontano parente di Ginevra. Quest’ultimo, secondo il Dolfi, tra il 1582 e il 1585 (che andrŕ evidentemente corretto in 1584) fu in missione diplomatica a Costantinopoli, al seguito dell’Ambasciatore veneziano.14 Ora la Colchide mitica corrispondeva pio meno all’attuale Georgia ed Armenia ed era nel Cinquecento parte del dominio ottomano, sicché il ci­ clo carraccesco (commissionato nel 1582, mentre Agostino era a Venezia, donde partiva l’Orsi) poteva anche servire a celebrare, ammantandole in nobilitanti vesti mitologiche, le peripezie politiche nella capitale ottomana di un esponente di un ramo collaterale della famiglia Orsi, cui i Fava si collegavano vieppisaldamente. In ogni caso, tra i vari cassoni quattrocenteschi che illustrano le sto­rie degli Argonauti se ne dovrŕ segnalare uno di sicura provenienza emi­liana, bolognese o ferrarese, un tempo nella celebre collezione romana dei Giustiniani, formatasi verso l’anno 1600: nella porzione raccolta dal Cardinal Benedetto e inventariata alla sua morte nel 1621, tra i dipinti figurano “Dui quadri in tavola sopraporti con l’historia d’Argonauti divisi con colonne dipinte con prospettive [...] di mano, si crede, di Ercole da Ferrara”, come recita, con maggior puntualitŕ descrittiva, l’inventario dei beni del fratello ed erede del Cardinale, Vincenzo Giustiniani, redatto alla morte di questi nel 1638.15 Queste tavole, segate in porzioni piů piccole in epoca imprecisata, direi tardo-ottocentesca (sicuramente erano ancora intere nella collezione di Antonio Canova, come rivelano le descrizioni coeve) sono oggi disper­se tra Padova, Firenze, Parigi, Madrid e (un tempo) Londra, ma proven-gono da due cassoni matrimoniali eseguiti per il matrimonio di Griseide Bentivoglio e Sallustio Guidotti, avvenuto a Ferrara nel 1486 e sono di controversa attribuzione: sono stati avanzati, oltre all’altisonante nome inventariale di Ercole Roberti, anche quelli di Lorenzo Costa, di anoni­ 14 Vedi Pompeo Scipione Dolfi, Cronologia delle famiglie nobili di Bologna, Bo­logna 1670, 564. La discrepanza sulle date del viaggio a Costantinopoli potreb-be essere almeno parzialmente giustificata da una confusione generata dalla scarsa familiaritŕ bolognese con il calendario “more veneto”. Per il matrimonio di Arrigo Orsi con Giulia Fava, vedi Biblioteca Comunale dell’Archiginnasio, Bologna, ms B 901 (Baldassarre Carrati, “Li matrimoni contratti in Bologna, fedelmente estratti da’ loro originali parrocchiali libri, tomo II”), p. 242: “Santa Cecilia – 1584, I giugno – Enrico di Orsino Orsi e Giulia quondam Scipione Fava”. Il matrimonio dovette durare poco a causa dell’immatura morte di Giu­lia: il 18 febbraio 1593 Arrigo Orsi si risposa, in San Tommaso di Strada Mag-giore, con Caterina di Ulisse Leoni (ibid., p. 375). Tutto ciň č confermato anche dagli alberi genealogici delle famiglie Fava e Orsi in BCB, ms B 698/II (Baldas­ sarre Carrati, “Indice delle Genealogie delle Famiglie Nobili viventi quest’anno 1778”), rispettivamente tavv. 48, 87. 15 Silvia Danesi Squarzina, La collezione Giustiniani: Inventari I, Torino 2003, I, 122–125, figg. 37–42. mi collaboratori dell’uno o dell’altro o di entrambi e, pirecentemente, quello, sorprendente, di Bernardino Orsi, bolognese, gravitante nell’am­ bito del Costa, omonimo (ma non avo) di Ginevra Orsi (si noti, tra l’altro, il nome bentivolesco della fanciulla sposata da Filippo Fava, ricorrente nella famiglia, quasi ad enfatizzare il documentato e stretto legame storico della famiglia Orsi con gli antichi Signori di Bologna). E’ verosimile che il cassone in questione sia stato acquisito da Benedetto Giustiniani “durante gli anni della sua permanenza a Bologna in qualitŕ di Legato pontificio, 1606–1611”, senza “perň escludere che l’acquisto risalga al viaggio di Be­nedetto a Ferrara nel 1598 al seguito di Clemente VIII”, per la devoluzione del ducato ferrarese alla Chiesa.16 Se nulla sappiamo dei rapporti tra i Fava e Benedetto Giustiniani (possiamo solo osservare che un giovane Fava, Giovan Galeazzo, fece da paggetto a Clemente VIII in visita a Bologna, e quindi ebbe sicuramente occasione di incontrare il Cardinal Giustiniani),17 č certo che quest’ultimo durante la sua legazione bolognese dimostrň un vivo apprezzamento per i Carracci, per il superstite Ludovico e per i suoi seguaci in particolare, e di ciň resta ampia testimonianza nell’inventario della sua collezione. Sap-piamo ugualmente bene che i Carracci (tanto Ludovico quanto Annibale) nutrivano un vivo interesse per l’arte del Quattrocento bolognese, di cui si sono rinvenute tracce significative in loro opere mature e tarde,18 e che almeno Ludovico, ma anche i cugini, avevano viaggiato estesamente per l’Emilia (ivi compresa Ferrara) e l’Italia, giŕ prima del 1578 (anno di iscri­zione di Ludovico quale maestro dell’arte) e, a maggior ragione, del 1582 (anno di presunta fondazione dell’Accademia degli Incamminati, di cui č appena stato ritrovato e pubblicato da Claire Pace un documento, tardo, di straordinaria importanza per comprenderne consistenza associativa e fun-zionamento):19 sorge quindi spontanea la domanda se, nel ciclo di Palazzo Fava, sia ravvisabile traccia di una possibile conoscenza, da parte dei tre Carracci, del cassone del 1486. Vero, il ciclo affrescato si compone di un totale di 18 episodi, in- frammezzati e divisi da 22 finte statue a monocromo (o “termini”) che raffigurano divinitŕ pagane, tutte identificate puntualmente (e, in genera­ 16 Ibidem, 123. 17 Dolfi, op. cit. (n. 14), 313. 18 Giovanna Perini, Arte e societŕ: Il ruolo dell’artista a Bologna e in Emilia tra corporazione e accademie, in: La pittura in Emilia e in Romagna: Il Cinquecen-to, Bologna 1994, 280–315, specie 297–298 ed Eadem, L’ultima Annunciazione di Ludovico, in: La Cattedrale di San Pietro a Bologna, Milano 1997, 86–101, specie 87, 98. 19 Per il documento inedito sull’Accademia dei Carracci vedi Claire Pace, “Per­fected through emulation”: “Imprese” of the Accademia degl’Incamminati, No-tizie da Palazzo Albani 33, 2004, 99–138. le, correttamente) da Malvasia, mentre i due cassoni comprendevano ori­ginariamente solo sei episodi, separati da colonne: premesso che di quei sei episodi ne sopravvivono oggi solo quattro completi e due severamente decurtati (l’identificazione dei cui soggetti non č unanime), č evidente la maggior concentrazione narrativa nei cassoni e inoltre č intuitivo che, nel-l’arco cronologico di un secolo (quanto separa le due serie dipinte) lo stile, figurativo e narrativo, si č alquanto evoluto: cionondimeno, a ben guarda-re č proponibile, mi pare, almeno un esempio convincente di intertestua­litŕ, e almeno un altro di infratestualitŕ, il che prova semioticamente una conoscenza effettiva e diretta del cassone da parte dei Carracci.20 Quanto all’esempio intertestuale, si osservi, nel ciclo ad affresco, la scena conviviale inserita nel X episodio, che raffigura, a destra, l’Incon­tro di Giasone e Medea, complice il Cupido bendato che ne congiunge le mani, dopo aver scagliato su di loro le proprie frecce proprio durante il regale convito illustrato in secondo piano a sinistra (Fig. 1). Tale convito si svolge in un loggiato aperto sui quattro lati al paesaggio circostante e coperto da una volta che sembrerebbe a vela, essendo impostata su quat­ tro colonne; al di sotto di una parte della volta č teso, sulla sinistra, un baldacchino. La veduta del loggiato č di scorcio, esattamente come quella della tavola imbandita sottostante, che č palesemente lunga, rettangolare, e dunque si rapporta goffamente alla volta che la sovrasta. Una miriade di filiformi figurine semi-indistinte si allineano attorno al desco, mentre altre in piedi portano vassoi di vivande. Ora, il pannello corrispondente del cassone ex Giustiniani che si trova a Parigi (Fig. 2) reca parimenti una scena di Banchetto a corte ambientata in un loggiato aperto su tre lati, coperto da una volta a botte, vista di scorcio e impostata su due colonne in primo piano e due pilastri emergenti dalla parete di fondo, su cui si apre una porta, coperta da una portiera. Attorno al tavolo rettangolare rivestito da una tovaglia ricamata di Fiandra, posto di scorcio anch’esso, siedono 20 Sulla nozione di “intertestualitŕ” e su quella di “interdiscorsivitŕ” seguo le definizioni datane dalla “Scuola di Pavia” (Segre, Corti), ad esempio Maria Corti, La felicitŕ mentale, Torino 1983, 61–63 e Cesare Segre, Intertestuale­interdiscorsivo: Appunti per una fenomenologia delle fonti, in: C. di Costanzo e J. Paccagnella (a cura di), La parola ritrovata: Fonti e analisi letterarie, Pa­lermo 1982, 15–28. Il concetto di “infratestualitŕ”, invece, č di mia invenzione e costituisce una sorta di sintesi sostitutiva della coppia dialettica “ipertesto”/ ”ipotesto” definita da Gerard Genette, Palinsesti: La letteratura al secondo grado, Torino 1997, 7–8. Di essa mi sono occupata in alcuni seminari universi­tari di tipo teorico-metodologico (tenuti a Oberlin, Ohio nel 1994, a Roma Tor Vergata nel 1995 e all’Istituto Superiore di Studi Filosofici di Napoli nel 1996) e in conferenze pubbliche (alla Bibliotheca Hertziana di Roma nel 1997), i cui testi pernon ho avuto ancora tempo e modo di pubblicare, mentre altri miei contributi di tipo esclusivamente applicativo sono ancora in corso di stampa – in un caso da circa sei anni. solo quattro esili figurine, di cui due sicuramente femminili e una, ma-schile, probabilmente identificabile con Giasone, mentre una schiera di camerieri e cortigiani si avvicendano attorno al tavolo, assieme – dettaglio comico e “cortese”– ad un nano con la scimmietta. Vista la palese incongruenza, nell’affresco, del formato della tavola rispetto a quello della volta sovrastante viene il sospetto, se non di una citazione vera e propria del piů coerente impianto quattrocentesco della scena, almeno di una cogente memoria figurativa ingenuamente espressa da giovani, talentuosi pittori ancora immaturi e di incerta, benché vasta ed eletta cultura figurativa. Parrebbe avvalorarlo il confronto con l’analoga, ma diversa scena di banchetto ritagliata dai Carracci in un angolo dell’epi­sodio della Giovinezza di Giasone: č lě ben evidente che essi potevano trat-tare un medesimo soggetto in forme assai diverse, anche se non so quanto sarebbe appropriato definirle come veri e propri “modi”. Quanto al cosiddetto Sovrano e dignitari di corte (Fig. 3) raffigurato in un frammento assai mutilo, tratto dalla porzione destra di una scena di uno dei pannelli londinesi del cassone ex Giustiniani (le dimensioni dimostrano che rappresenta un terzo o meno della scena originaria), si tratterŕ probabilmente del Re Pelia che riceve il vello d’oro:21 ed allora si noterŕ che i Carracci, nella XV scena del loro ciclo rappresentante il medesimo soggetto (Fig. 4), invertendone l’andamento narrativo hanno disposto Pelia col suo seguito a sinistra, a fronteggiare Giasone (col vello) e Medea che entrano in scena da destra. Inversione delle posizioni degli attori a parte, e nonostante il diverso atteggiamento del Re (in piedi e pro-teso in avanti nell’affresco, presumibilmente seduto e sicuramente eretto nel pannello), almeno un elemento compositivo perfettamente equivalente ricorre in entrambe le scene: quello del dignitario posto subito alle spalle del Re, con il capo avvolto in un esotico turbante caratterizzato da un lembo di stoffa che negligentemente gli pende fin sulla spalla. Lo scorcio del volto, inclinato all’indietro e di tre quarti, del dignitario quattrocen­tesco non si ritrova perň nell’omologo in turbante cinquecentesco, bensě nel suo vicino, forse un paggio, che regge il mantello del Re e indossa uno strano copricapo di feltro che pare un esotico elmetto di stoffa dalla tesa bizzarramente partita al centro e rialzata, evocatrice di certi antiquati co-pricapi perugineschi. Questo personaggio nell’affresco si situa alle spalle del collega in turbante e del Re, accanto alla massiccia figura barbuta in piedi che chiude la scena a guisa di quinta, e dietro al quale si staglia un rigido profilo barbuto, del tutto omologo e simmetrico di quello del paggetto lungocrinito in zuccotto del dipinto quattrocentesco. Insomma, la versione cinquecentesca sdoppia la figura in turbante quattrocentesca 21 I dignitari e lo stesso sovrano dimostrano attonito stupore e sentimenti con- trastanti, alla vista di qualcosa di inatteso: tale indubbiamente era il ritorno vittorioso di Giasone col vello d’oro. mantenendone l’agghindatura ma imponendole un’altra postura e prestan-done viceversa l’atteggiamento originario ad altra, vicina figura, mentre del volto sbarbato in profilo del paggetto della scena quattrocentesca i Carracci creano un perfetto omologo simmetricamente disposto, con una caratterizzazione fisionomica completamente invertita: alla capigliatura liscia, lunga e bionda che emerge dallo zucchetto quattrocentesco si con-trappone cosě il capo scoperto con il capello corto e scuro, come la barba, del dignitario cinquecentesco, decisamente pimaturo d’etŕ. Quanto al cortigiano che, nel pannello di cassone, indossa un turbante chiaro e sta alle spalle del Re, quasi a fronteggiare lo spettatore, la sua figura “dialo-gante” viene ripresa e ripetuta con varianti ben cinque volte nell’affresco, da personaggi del seguito regale tutti a capo scoperto, di varie etŕ e posti a varia distanza dal primo piano. Pure coincidenze, ricorsivitŕ presunte, invece che calcolate rielab­orazioni? Mera interdiscorsivitŕ piuttosto che autentica intertestualitŕ, o, piů precisamente, qui, infratestualitŕ? Non credo proprio, per due ragioni: la prima č che entrambe le versioni della Consegna del vello si svolgono all’aperto, ma con i dignitari della corte inquadrati contro lo sfondo ar­chitettonico (una vera scena teatrale) del palazzo regale (di foggia diversa perché diverse sono le proiezioni fantastiche e le sapienze architettoniche cui vien dato corpo) e poi perché sottile, č vero, ma troppo forte e calco­lata č la trama dei rimandi compositivi individuati. D’altronde l’accento esotico dei costumi, tanto sviluppato nella narrazione favolistica e cortese, tutta attenta all’esterioritŕ, del frammento quattrocentesco č praticamente assente nella rivisitazione poetica carraccesca, assai piů intima, volta a raffigurare i momenti lirici della natura e i trasalimenti dell’anima dei per-sonaggi, pidi quanto non sia preoccupata della loro agghindatura forma­le: eppure, e non per caso, pur senza riferirsi a questo particolare cassone Campbell, che č esperto di pittura quattrocentesca ferrarese, ha postulato negli affreschi Fava una sensibilitŕ formale affatto quattrocentesca.22 Da ciň discendono due principali conclusioni: la prima č che i Car-racci dovevano conoscere, e bene, il cassone Bentivoglio-Guidotti (che poi esso potesse appartenere alla famiglia di Ginevra Orsi č possibile, ma improbabile);23 la seconda č che, in questa fase iniziale della loro carriera, 22 Campbell, op. cit. (n. 1), 220–221 e passim. 23 Gli Orsi, s’č detto, erano in eccellenti rapporti coi Bentivoglio e, nel Cinque­ cento avanzato, conoscevano e frequentavano i Guidotti di Bologna, ma resta da vedere se questi fossero direttamente collegati ai Guidotti ferraresi, anche se il ceppo in origine dev’essere comune (i Guidotti bolognesi erano comunque oriundi di Modena, che era territorio estense come Ferrara). In ogni caso, pro- prio per la loro fedeltŕ ai Bentivoglio, gli Orsi ebbero il palazzo saccheggiato nel 1513 e i mobili furono asportati o distrutti, e dunque, se mai il cassone era di loro proprietŕ attorno al 1580, dovevano averlo acquisito (ma per quali vie?) essi appaiono assai piů imbevuti di esperienze visive eclettiche e dotati di vena artisticamente sperimentale, di quanto non sembrino effettivamente padroni di una vasta cultura generale o di solida erudizione antiquaria. Campbell propone in veritŕ, e con qualche buona ragione, che gli affreschi testimonino una scelta esplicita a favore di “a modern vernacular heroic style” contrapposto ad un “antiquarianism” che “is never the main control­ling element”, perché “what the Carracci present [...] is very far from the erudite and dramatic reconstructions associated with artists of the Roman tradition, such as Polidoro da Caravaggio and Perino del Vaga, in whom the Carracci’s older contemporaries invested such authority”.24 In effetti, uno dei problemi mai seriamente affrontati dagli studiosi sin qui č l’analisi delle fonti iconografiche delle figure monocrome per le finte statue di divinitŕ che incorniciano le singole scene, costituendone una sorta di arguto commento morale:25 certamente si sono richiamate, opportunamente, le descrizioni letterarie pertinenti presenti nel Cartari o nel Ripa, e, come per le scene interposte, si sono cercate assonanze con le analoghe figure ai margini delle incisioni di Boyvin per Le Livre de la conqueste de le Toison d’or di Jean Gohorry (1563),26 ma non si sono cercati sistematicamente riscontri positivi nella tradizione figurativa pre­cedente, specie scultorea, vicina o remota nel tempo e nello spazio, che possano spiegarne puntualmente pose e costumi. Campbell, oltre a rigettare l’applicabilitŕ a questi affreschi della no- zione di erudizione antiquaria, ha caratterizzato il rapporto dei Carracci con le loro fonti iconografiche come “less one of derivation than of aggres­sive revision”27 – e lo si č appena visto nel caso del cassone: non diverso, č lecito presumere, sarŕ stato il rapporto instaurato con la statuaria evocata. Anche per le figure a monocromo per, come e piche per le scene in-terposte, ha prevalso sinora l’analisi stilistica, che, oltre ad essere, come sempre, altamente opinabile, a tratti č risultata perfino fuorviante (si pensi alla perdurante negazione del viaggio a Parma dei Carracci a queste date, dopo la data del saccheggio. Per notizie sulla famiglia Orsi, vedi Dolfi, op. cit. (n. 14), 558–568. 24 Campbell, op. cit. (n. 1), 222, 214 rispettivamente. 25 Sulle singole scene si č viceversa tentato qualche riscontro per le invenzioni o la composizione, specie rifacendosi al patrimonio grafico presumibilmente disponibile ai Carracci, giungendo ad esiti alterni. Si veda la bibliografia ri­chiamata a n. 1, cui sarŕ opportuno aggiungere Stephen Ostrow, Note sugli affreschi con “Storie di Giasone” in Palazzo Fava, Arte antica e moderna 9, 1960, 68–75. 26 Vedi in particolare Maria Luigia Pagliani, Per l’esegesi del ciclo di Giasone, in: Emiliani (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 1), 253–273. 27 Campbell, op. cit. (n. 1), 219. quando il Vertumno (Fig. 8) č semplicemente impensabile senza la lezione di drappeggio degli affreschi correggeschi).28 Non a caso, quarant’anni fa, oltre a proporre corrette osservazioni sulla “scaltrita accademia” che sottende l’invenzione del Giove, si č potuto parlare dei “dettami inderogabili di un cerimoniale di gelo” che presiede­rebbero “all’intavolazione di Marte, letteralmente reperito in una zona di scavo”, ribadendo cosě la premessa (ahimč, tutta longhiana e abbastanza falsa) di un “eccesso di erudizione archeologica, di artificiosa parata e parassitari esercizi” che costituirebbe il supposto “limite” dei Carracci, quella loro “conoscenza assai vasta dell’antico, realizzata su un piano di cultura accademica” per cui inevitabilmente si sposa l’attribuzione mal­vasiana dei termini ad Agostino, relegato, “č ormai il caso di dirlo, ad un livello in definitiva mediocre”, tanto che “lo splendido Bacco, o, meglio, il Saturno” gli vengono infine sottratti per darli ad Annibale solo perché (altro pregiudizio longhiano) “c’č un afflato di vita, una forza piů vergine, che plasma e dŕ corpo alla figura essenziale, buttando alle spalle la rigat­teria macchinosa, che ne ostacolava materialmente la crescita. Il volume, tornito dalla luce incidente, č vivo di linfe, di plasma, di sangue”.29 Ecco come una brillante studiosa allora assai giovane, pur fuorviata dalle erronee premesse metodologiche inculcatele, rivela per, per natura­le talento, un occhio molto piů giudizioso in merito all’agnizione qualita­tiva di quanto potessero vantare certi supposti maestri italici di connois­seurship: perché se avesse scritto, invece, semplicemente, che il Bacco e il cosiddetto Saturno (forse piuttosto Eolo) sono in realtŕ le due figure ‘piů moderne’ e percipivive della serie, ella avrebbe colto pienamente nel segno ed impostato la questione su basi del tutto inedite e percorrette. Nel Bacco (Fig. 5) Anton Boschloo, pochi anni dopo, non ebbe difficoltŕ a riconoscere la statua giovanile scolpita da Michelangelo, oggi al Bargel­lo:30 Ludovico (o chi per lui) poteva averlo visto ancora a Roma, dato che la statua fu ivi acquistata dai Medici nel 1571/1572 e che fu descritta in Gal­leria a Firenze solo dal 1591.31 A Roma del resto l’aveva vista (e descritta 28 Purtroppo č la tesi sposata anche da Andrea Emiliani, nel suo saggio Le Storie di Giasone: Invenzione e forma, in: Emiliani (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 1), XVII– LXIV, specie XXXV, LV, ma con un parziale ripensamento a XLII. 29 Anna Ottani, Gli affreschi dei Carracci a Palazzo Fava, Bologna 1966, 56–57. Nella nota 93 a p. 56 la Ottani propone perň di attribuire ad Annibale anche il Cupido e il Vulcano, e a Ludovico Cerere, Diana, Mercurio, Giunone, Vit­toria, Fato, Fama, e Vittoria comune, lasciando quindi ad Agostino appena una decina di figure. 30 Cfr. Anton W. A. Boschloo, Annibale Carracci in Bologna: Visible Reality in Art after the Council of Trent, L’Aja 1974, II, 211, n. 33 ma, in precedenza, sem­ brerebbe essersene accorto anche Walter Friedländer, Contributo alla cronolo­ gia e all’iconografia di Ludovico Carracci, Cronache d’arte, 3, 1926, 133–144. 31 Sulle vicende della statua michelangiolesca, cfr. Paola Barocchi (a cura di), come intera, dunque restaurata) l’Aldrovandi, nel 1556, e, a differenza del disegno lasciatocene da Heemskerk o della stampa di Cornelis Bos, anche il Carracci (io direi Ludovico, ma poco importa) lo raffigura con la mano di restauro che impugna la tazza, anch’essa nuova di zecca. Si noti poi che, di tutti gli dei dipinti, questo č uno dei pochi (assieme alla vicina Venere e a Cerere) ad avere le pupille dipinte, che gli danno un allegro sguardo in tralice: un’evocazione, forse di quello “sguardo lascivo” che alla statua originale riconoscevano Varchi e Condivi?32 Certamente il segno di una vitalitŕ palese che viene artatamente negata alle altre statue dipinte, quasi a suggerire per esse, contro ogni evidenza stilistica, una supposta fedeltŕ trascrittiva di concreti modelli scultorei classici, che varrŕ la pena di veri­ficare. Quanto al Saturno, o Eolo che sia (Fig. 6), infatti, č facile accorger­si che anche qui il modello (finora ignorato) č una celebre statua reale e moderna, che, finita nel 1567, venne perň pagata agli eredi dello scultore (che frattanto era morto) solo nel 1582: č il Nettuno di Jacopo Sansovino che domina lo scalone di Palazzo Ducale a Venezia.33 Gli č stato tolto il perizoma, aggiunto uno svolazzante mantello dietro le spalle che non si sa come si regga,34 ridotta la rotazione del capo verso sinistra per chi guarda, sollevato l’avambraccio destro a tenere alta una bacchetta, e sostituito il delfino ai piedi con una testa di putto o otre dei venti.35 (Per il loro Nettuno (Fig. 10), invece, i Carracci sembrano adottare, adattandolo ad una posa piů manierista, un noto modello lisippeo ripreso in controparte: e chissŕ se, volendo evitare di riprodurre la statua del Giambologna posta solo a poche decine di metri da Palazzo Fava, non abbiano inteso produrre con-testualmente un commento critico negativo al Nettuno dell’Ammannati a Firenze).36 Il Marte di Palazzo Fava (Fig. 4), d’altro canto, non ha nulla a che fare La vita di Michelangelo di Giorgio Vasari nelle redazioni del 1550 e del 1568, Milano – Napoli 1962, II, 161–170, n. 138–141. 32 Ibidem. 33 Vedi John Pope Hennessy, Italian High Renaissance and Baroque Sculpture, Londra 1970, 408, scheda 113, fig. 113. 34 Il manto non poggia sulle spalle e non č stretto da lacci che attraversino il busto o il collo: a proposito di naturalismo ... 35 Si potrebbe argomentare che anche il Plutone posto tra l’VIII e la IX scena sia derivato dal medesimo modello sansovinesco, ruotandolo di quasi 90°, cam-biando gli attributi denotativi e invertendo la posizione del braccio destro e sinistro, nonché creando ad arte un chiastico contrapposto per la necessitŕ di rompere la simmetria della postura delle gambe, onde sistemare un tricipite Cerbero ai piedi del dio, sotto la sua gamba sinistra: insomma, detto con mag-gior brevitŕ ed efficacia, il Nettuno sansovinesco č sicuramente l’intertesto del Saturno/Eolo carraccesco e probabilmente l’infratesto del Plutone. 36 Vedi il Posidone di Corinto, ricostruito sulla base di varie testimonianze fi­ con il nudo Marte sansovinesco che fa da pendant al Nettuno in cima allo scalone veneziano: la sua fonte iconografica, semmai, potrebbe essere il cosiddetto Pirro o Mars Ultor del Museo Capitolino, citato da Aldrovandi a Palazzo Massimo e che, partendo da un busto acefalo loricato antico (riprodotto da Heemskerk quando era nella collezione Galli, che in origine aveva ospitato anche il Bacco michelangiolesco) diventa, a furia di restau­ri integrativi cinquecenteschi, una statua completa, pimoderna che anti- ca. In effetti sono le gambe ed i gambali e la posizione delle braccia (tutte parti moderne, di restauro) ad essere attentamente imitate, scartando volto barbuto ed elmo pericleo (moderni anch’essi) e introducendo un hanche­ment tipicamente gotico-manierista che esula del tutto dalla simmetrica stabilitŕ originale, ma evoca forse l’asimmetria posturale del giŕ famoso torso loricato acefalo supposto imperiale rinvenuto a Bologna nel 1513 e ancor oggi vanto del locale Museo Civico Archeologico.37 Anzi, dell’origi­nale Marte romano i Carracci scartano proprio la complessa decorazione con grifi e testa di Medusa o di Gorgone della lorica, che pure lo avvicina, in termini di decorativismo, alle figurazioni del busto bolognese, e ciň forse per evitare l’accusa di appiattirsi archeologicamente sul modello an- tico; inventano perciň un’armatura semplificata che pare tratta dalla stessa armeria che ha vestito la vicina Minerva, la quale, a un primo sguardo, sembra inaccostabile ad un quasivoglia modello classico. (L’elmo delle due divinitŕ ricorda un po’ alla lontana i tipi bronzei a calotta emisferica reperibili nelle tombe etrusche). In effetti, per quel che riguarda i restanti diciassette monocromi, non č facile, per chi non sia archeologo, riconoscervi modelli iconografici clas­ sici: anche laddove si possa dare qualche sommaria indicazione probabile, pare si tratti di modelli pesantemente rielaborati e contaminati da un’in- terpretazione del tutto moderna, se non addirittura irriverente. Cosě, il Pan posto tra la X e l’XI scena (Fig. 7), ruotato di 45° rispetto alla visione frontale e con la siringa in mano, č certamente ricavato da uno dei due Sa­tiri della collezione Della Valle a Roma, che aveva catturato anche l’atten­zione dell’Aspertini:38 lo dimostrano in particolare il confronto puntuale delle gambe, del busto e la stessa, inedita capigliatura “afro”, ingegnosa gurative, Paolo Moreno (a cura di), Lisippo: L’arte e la fortuna, Milano 1995, 220–225, scheda 4.33. 37 Sul “Pirro” romano, vedi Ruth Rubinstein e Phyllis Pray Bober, Renaissan­ce Artists and Antique Sculpture: A Handbook of Sources, Londra – Oxford 1986, 66–67, foto e scheda 24) sul busto bolognese, vedi Cristina Morigi Govi e Daniele Vitali (a cura di), Il Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna, Bologna 1982, 66, scheda 9 (foto a colori a p. 41). 38 Cfr. Bober e Rubinstein (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 37), 109–111, scheda 75 e Francis Haskell e Nicholas Penny, Taste and the Antique: The Lure of Classical Sculp­ture 1500–1900, New Haven – Londra 1981, 301–303, scheda 75. soluzione di ripiego adottata perché nel modello (forse conosciuto o al­meno richiamato alla memoria tramite una riproduzione grafica ambigua o imprecisa) la capigliatura si confondeva con il cesto di uva posato sul capo. Poiché le braccia erano originariamente mancanti, č stato agevole per i Carracci decidere una soluzione diversa da quella adottata dal re-stauratore della statua presa a modello. Quanto alla veste di leopardo che copre torso e pudenda del Pan affrescato, cosě come la siringa che regge in mano, esse sono un’addizione pittorica dei Carracci, elaborata sul modello di un’illustrazione posta ne Le immagini degli dei de li antichi del Cartari, nell’edizione bolognese del 1579, come ha dimostrato la Pagliani.39 E, a riprova dell’evidente disinvoltura verso un approccio veramente antiquario e, inoltre, del dubbio interesse per la musica, ecco che la siringa di Pan č chiaramente impugnata alla rovescia, tenendo vicino alla bocca la parte scalata delle canne, non quella pareggiata, come se il pittore con-fondesse questo rustico strumento a fiato con una sorta di piccolo organo portatile e non avesse posto alcuna attenzione ai numerosi rilievi e statue classici che gli avrebbero fatto capire come si suona la siringa. La filologia musicale, del resto, č un po’ carente nel ciclo, tanto da far quasi dubitare della veridicitŕ delle storie sull’interesse per la musica nutrito dai Carracci, e in particolare da Agostino, peraltro confermate da documenti:40 cosě l’Apollo monocromo con la lira collocato tra la XIII e la XIV scena (Fig. 8) regge qualcosa di simile alla moderna lira da braccio, ma in effetti non si capisce che strumento sia: nella destra il dio impugna un archetto, ma della lira, appoggiata sulla spalla sinistra, si vede solo la cassa armonica approssimativamente scorciata, non il manico con il riccio finale su cui si tendono le corde. A parte il fatto che giŕ Bertoldo e poi il Raffaello del Parnaso avevano raffigurato Apollo intento a suonare moderne “lire all’antica”, ad occhio mal distinguibili da viole da braccio 39 Pagliani, op. cit. (n. 26), 263. 40 Per la differenza tra gli strumenti musicali “all’antica” e quelli antichi, vedi Romano Silva, Strumenti musicali “alla greca e all’antica” nel Rinascimento, in: Settis (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 10), 361–372 e Gabrielle Battaglia, Lira, in: En-ciclopedia italiana di scenze, lettere ed arti, Roma 1929–1937, 249–250; Guido Libertini, Cetra, Enciclopedia italiana ..., op. cit., 900–901; Francesco Vatielli, Viola da braccio, in: Enciclopedia italiana ..., op. cit., 412–413; e inoltre le voci “Cittern”, “Lira”, “Lyra” e “Viola” in: The New Grove Dictionary of Musical Instruments, London 1984: Ian Harwood, James Tyler, Cittern, I, 379–386; Howard Mayer Brown, Lira, II, 525–526; Howard Mayer Brown, Lyra (1), II, 576; Ian Woodfield, Lucy Robinson, Viol, III, 736–753. Sulle diverse ripologie degli strumenti a corda, vedi inoltre Giovanni Tintori, Gli strumenti musicali, Torino 1971, II, 650–715. Per gli interessi musicali dei Carracci, vedi Malvasia, op. cit. (n. 6), I, 308 (ristampa dell’Elogio funebre di Agostino Carracci fatto da Lucio Faberio), 328, 338, nonché Giovanna Perini, Gli scritti dei Carracci, Bologna 1990, specie 79–80, 118. o violini, va osservato che anche il Carracci che dipinge la IX scena del ciclo di Giasone, con l’Incontro tra l’eroe e il Re Eeta padre di Medea, nel raffigurare Orfeo che suona la lira da braccio dŕ un’immagine corretta e plausibile dello strumento, che peraltro, nei disegni preparatori, mantiene sempre le sembianze della lira classica:41 dunque ancor meno si capisce la fastidiosa approssimazione esibita nel caso dell’Apollo.42 Il nastro che attraversa il petto del dio per sorreggere la faretra che gli spunta da sotto il gomito del braccio destro richiama perň l’attenzione sul possibile modello classico di questa immagine, cioč il torso acefalo di statua iconica derivato dal Diomede del tipo Monaco-Cuma di cui esiste a tutt’oggi un esemplare al Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna, simile ad altro perduto, ripro­ dotto e studiato nel Seicento da Malvasia in collezione Monti.43 Ancora: il Saturno posto tra la XVII e la XVIII scena (Fig. 9) a ben vedere č un adattamento neppur troppo libero (e per la veritŕ non molto felice) del celeberrimo gruppo di Sileno col giovane Bacco un tempo in Collezione Borghese (ora al Louvre), di cui esiste copia bronzea agli Uf­ fizi, realizzata negli anni ‘70 del Cinquecento e per lungo tempo rimasta ad adornare la scala sul giardino di Villa Medici a Roma. Del resto va ricordato che fino a Winckelmann l’interpretazione piů diffusa del gruppo era appunto quella di Saturno che divora un figlio.44 Infine il Mercurio 41 Per i disegni preparatori, vedi Emiliani (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 1), 148–150. Si ricordi che fu Vincenzo Galilei, nel suo Dialogo della musica antica e moderna (1581), a teorizzare che l’antica lira a plettro era diventata la moderna “lira ad arco” (vedi bibliografia tecnica alla nota precedente), il che potrebbe significare che, all’opposto dell’Apollo monocromo, il cambiamento dello strumento raffi­gurato nella scena di Orfeo fosse frutto di una scelta consapevole e aggiornata, alla luce delle ultime novitŕ della teoria musicale. Ma allora, perché il pasticcia-to strumento in mano ad Apollo? E se, a dispetto delle convinzioni degli storici moderni che l’attribuiscono ad Annibale, la scena dell’Incontro fosse invece di Agostino, come si potrebbe spiegare comunque il mancato intervento del-l’esperto a correggere l’errore del fratello o del cugino, visto che hanno collabo­rato strettamente tutti e tre? Dobbiamo forse postulare un improbabile ritocco a secco caduto nel frattempo? Ma in tal caso, perché la siringa improvvidamente capovolta in mano a Pan? Anche lě un ritocco a secco caduto? 42 E’ evidente comunque che i Carracci non hanno tenuto in alcun conto il model-lo dell’Apollo citaredo Farnese, ora al Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli (riprodotto in: Christine Riebesell, Die Sammlung des Kardinal Alessandro Farnese: Ein “studio” für Künstler und Gelehrte, Weinheim 1989, fig. 29), che almeno il piů anziano dei tre poteva aver visto durante una presumibile visita di studio a Roma anteriore al 1578. 43 Cfr. Morigi Govi e Vitali (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 37), e piů estesmente, Anna Maria Brizzolara, Le sculture del Museo Civico Archeologico di Bologna: La collezione Marsili, Bologna 1986, 129–130, scheda 65. 44 Cfr. Haskell e Penny, op. cit. (n. 38), 306–307, scheda 77 e Moreno (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 37), 251–255, scheda 4.37. tra la VII e l’VIII scena (Fig. 10), che regge nella destra il caduceo e nella sinistra una tromba, sembrerebbe relativamente vicino all’Hermes loghios Ludovisi in seguito restaurato da Algardi,45 tolto il mantello pendente dal braccio sinistro e volta bruscamente all’indietro la testa col petaso che nell’originale č alquanto inclinata in avanti, nonché aggiunti nelle mani gli attributi su ricordati. Un fatto č certo: č proprio lo stesso Mercurio di cui si serve, quasi vent’anni dopo, a Roma, Annibale, quando dipinge il riquadro di Paride e Mercurio nella volta della Galleria Farnese, solo che mutano, e di molto, lo scorcio e il punto di vista, nonché la disinvoltura esecutiva.46 Forse proprio l’evidente scorcio prospettico dal basso in cui sono di­segnate le finte statue e che, almeno nelle figure panneggiate femminili, crea evidenti problemi di proporzione nel rapporto tra gambe e cosce o busti puň spiegare almeno in parte alcune delle alterazioni che i modelli antichi e moderni sin qui individuati devono subire: puň darsi che la scelta di inclinare la testa di Mercurio all’indietro, piuttosto che in avanti, ad esempio, sia stata suggerita dalla volontŕ di evitare uno scorcio non solo difficile, ma di brutto effetto ed č inoltre favorita dalla possibilitŕ di poter ripetere quasi alla lettera il disegno complessivo adottato per l’Apollo. Se le 13 figure maschili sono frequentemente nude e solitamente in veduta frontale o di tre quarti (fa eccezione Vulcano), quelle femminili sono tutte di profilo quanto al corpo, tutte vestite da vesti ampiamente panneggiate (con l’unica eccezione iniziale e prevedibile di Venere, ovvia­mente nuda, mentre perfino Diana, che di solito adotta vesti succinte da cacciatrice, presenta qui una veste lunga e casta), ma il loro volto sorriden­te č di norma girato verso lo spettatore. Se trovare fonti classiche precise e convincenti per le figure maschili č stato arduo, per quelle femminili lo č ancora di piů: certo, la cosiddetta Spes puricordare la Flora di Villa Lu-dovisi, e si potrebbe sostenere che tutte le figure panneggiate (comprese le finte statue inserite all’interno della XVI e XVII scena) si rifacciano in realtŕ ad un unico modello tipo la Musa Melpomene ora al Louvre (intesa nel Rinascimento come Minerva o Ops)47 custodita dalla fine del Quattro­cento nel Palazzo della Cancelleria a Roma, cui vengono via via adattati diversi attributi identificativi, modificando in parte anche l’atteggiamento del corpo. E’ assai probabile che, conducendo l’analisi delle varie figure mono-crome assieme ad un archeologo dotato di notevole duttilitŕ mentale e visi­va e di una salda consapevolezza della storia del collezionismo archeologi-co, sia possibile individuare fonti classiche piprecise, romane e non, per alcune delle figure discusse sin qui, e soprattutto per quelle non discusse, 45 Sull’Hermes Ludovisi vedi Giuliano, op. cit. (n. 11), 94–101, scheda 5. 46 Vedi l’immagine riprodotta in Charles Dempsey, Annibale Carracci: Palazzo Farnese, Torino 1995, 50–51. 47 Vedi Rubinstein e Bober (a cura di), op. cit. (n. 37), 79–80, scheda 39, fig. 39b. completando cosě il quadro filologico sulle fonti delle 22 divinitŕ: ma non credo che sia comunque possibile alterare l’impressione generale di un riu-so spregiudicato e irriverente delle fonti, antiche non meno che moderne, che balza evidente anche dalle espressioni sovente ridenti, quando non ir­ridenti, dei singoli personaggi e che trova nella recente, sollecitante lettura condotta da Stephen Campbell la sua interpretazione piů compiuta. C’č perda chiedersi se, nell’aura moralmente ambigua prima ancora che austera della Controriforma, i Carracci, proprio con questo giovanile scherzo pittorico del debutto non si sian giocati le locali committenze ar­civescovili, almeno durante tutto il lungo governo dei due Paleotti: fosse mai che le critiche di natura stilistica rivolte agli affreschi dal timorato e controriformato pittore Bartolomeo Cesi e riportate da Malvasia avessero invece un obiettivo diverso, piů contenutistico che formale?48 Desidero ringraziare Silvia Danesi Squarzina per avermi gentilmente prestato le foto del cassone Guidotti-Orsi. 48 Vedi Perini, op. cit. (n. 18), 86–87. Fig. 1. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Con-vito, X episodio, dettaglio, 1584, Pa-lazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 2. Anonimo emiliano del Quattrocento, Banchetto, dal cassone Guidotti- Orsi di collezione Giustiniani, Parigi, Musée des Arts Decoratifs (Foto: Silvia Danesi). Fig. 3. Anonimo emiliano del Quat­trocento, Sovrano e dignitari di corte, dal cassone Guidotti-Orsi di collezione Giusti­niani, giŕ Londra, coll. Wilson (Foto: Silvia Danesi). Fig. 4. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Re Pelia che riceve il vello d’oro, XV episodio, ai lati, Minerva e Marte, 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 5. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Venere e Bacco, ai lati del I episodio, 1584, Palaz­zo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 6. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Eolo, tra il IV e il V episodio, 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 7. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Pan, a lato del X episodio, 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 8. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Vertumno e Apollo, ai lati del XIII episodio, 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Fig. 9. L., Ag. e A. Carracci, Saturno, a lato del XVII episodio, 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). 1584, Palazzo Fava, Bologna (Foto: Giovanna Perini). Niz prizorov slikarjev Carracci iz Jazonove zgodbe v bolonjskem Palazzo Fava POVZETEK Clanek predlaga verjetno razlago za izbiro neobicajne snovi (Jazono­ve prigode), ki so jo leta 1584 Carracciji upodobili na freskah v Palazzo Fava v Bologni. Iskanje zlatega runa v Kolhidi bi kaj lahko namigovalo na diplomatsko misijo, na kateri je bil Arrigo di Orsino Orsi (daljni soro­ dnik soproge Filippa Fave) v Carigradu med letoma 1582 (ko je bil cikel slik narocen) in 1584 (ko je bila poslikava dokoncana, kar je sovpadlo z Arrigovo poroko s sestricno Filippa Fave v tretjem kolenu). V prispevku so predstavljene nekatere možne ikonografske pobude za dve pripovedni epizodi, zlasti tabelni sliki iz 15. stoletja ferrarske ali bolonjske izdelave in provenience, ki sta prvotno krasili isto (danes razkosano) porocno skri­njo (it. cassone) – ta je bila nekoc v Giustinianijevi zbirki. Poleg tega se razprava osredotoca na slavna dela anticne statuarike, ki - skupaj z moj­strovinami renesancnega kiparstva (Michelangelo, Jacopo Sansovino) - odmevajo v nekaterih enobarvnih likih poganskih bogov na locnicah pri­zorov. Na koncu avtorica opozarja še na nekaj najocitnejših nedoslednosti, ki so jih (kljub svojemu izpricanemu vsestranskemu zanimanju za glasbo) Carracciji zagrešili pri upodabljanju anticnih glasbil. Some Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Appropriations and Adaptations of the Myth of the Argonauts in Ljubljana: From Texts to Images STANKO KOKOLE It is a well-known fact that ancient foundation myths of several coastal towns on the northern Adriatic rim were based on the complex classical lore associated with the westward journey of the Argonauts.1 Moreover, similarly remote mythic origins were ascribed also to one Roman settle­ment in the sub-Alpine periphery: the Colonia Iulia Emona, which occu­pied the site of the present-day capital of Slovenia, Ljubljana.2 In its most explicit form the legend in question has come down to us in the works of two Greek historians, the Christian Sozomen and the pagan Zosimus, who both recorded an earlier tradition of unknown date. Sozomen, writing in the fifth century A.D., reports that (Ecclesiastical History 1.6.5): When the Argonauts fled from Aetes, they returned homewards by a different route, crossed the sea of Scythia, sailed through some of the rivers there, and so gained the shores of Italy, where they passed the winter and built a city, which they called Emona. The following sum­mer, with the assistance of the people of the country, they dragged the Argo, by means of machinery, the distance of four hundred stadia, and so reached the Aquilis, a river which falls into the Eridanus: the Erida­nus itself falls into the Italian sea.3 Citing the lost epic poem Heroic Marriages of the Gods by the early-third-century poet Pisander of Laranda as his source, Zosimus, in the cor­ 1 See, for example, Carlo Corbato, Gli Argonauti in Adriatico, Archeografo Trie­stino 101/53, 1993, 171–184. 2 Jaroslav Šašel, Emona, in: Paulys Realencyclopädie der classischen Altertum­swissenschaft, ed. K. Ziegler, Suppl. 11, Stuttgart 1968, 540–578; see now espe­cially Marjeta Šašel Kos, Emona was in Italy not in Pannonia, in: The Autono­ mous Towns of Noricum and Pannonia / Die autonomen Städte in Noricum und Pannonien: Pannonia I, eds. M. Šašel Kos, P. Scherrer et al., Ljubljana 2003, 11–19 (with updated bibliography). 3 For the English translation, see [Sozomen], The Ecclesiastical History of Sozo- men, Comprising a History of the Church from A.D. 323 to A.D. 425, trans. Chester D. Hartranft (Nicene and Post-Nicene Fathers, 2nd ser., 2), New York 1890, 243. responding paragraphs of his New History (5.29.2–3) – probably written around A.D. 500 – offers a slightly expanded version of the same narra­tive, which reads: ... This town [scil. Emona] lies between Upper Pannonia and Noricum. It is worthwhile telling what is known about this town and how it came to be founded in the first place. They say that the Argonauts, being pur­ sued by Aietas, anchored at the mouths of the Danube, where it flows into the Black Sea. They decided it would be best to go on even against the current and row up this river with a following wind until they came nearer to the sea. They carried out this plan, and when they came to this place, they commemorated their arrival by founding this city [i.e., Emona]. Then, putting the Argo on a contrivance and hauling it four hundred stades to the sea, they anchored off the Italian shore ...4 In connection with the prehistory of Roman Emona, the story has long since received its due share of attention among classical scholars and ar­chaeologists.5 My paper will, in turn, address some of the varied man­ifestations of this mythic episode’s multi-faceted reception in the early modern period, when Ljubljana (Ger. Laibach; whence the neo-Latin de­rivative Labacum) definitively asserted its ascendancy as the administra­tive centre of the Habsburg hereditary Duchy of Carniola (Ger. Herzogtum Krain; Slov. Vojvodina Kranjska).6 4 For the English translation, see Zosimus, New History, trans. and comm. Ron­ald T. Ridley (Byzantina Australiensia 2), Canberra 1982, 114. 5 See in particular Jaroslav Šašel, K zgodovini Emone v rimskih napisih in liter-aturi, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane: Prispevki za monografijo, ed. F. Gestrin, Lju­bljana 1984, 35–45: 36–37, 42; Jaroslav Šašel, H krajevnima imenoma Emona in Ljubljana, Linguistica 24, 1984, 251–253; Jaroslav Šašel, Opera Selecta, eds. M. Šašel Kos and R. Bratož (Situla: Dissertationes Musei Nationalis Labacen-sis 30), Ljubljana 1992, 500, 502, 505, 563–564, 571, 578, 712, no. 23–24, 796; Marjeta Šašel Kos, A Few Remarks Concerning the archaiologia of Nauportus and Emona: The Argonauts, in this volume, pp. 13–20. On this occasion I also wish to thank Marjeta Šašel Kos for her long-standing interest in my ongoing research project that is in part also concerned with the early history of classical studies and antiquarian scholarship on the territory of present-day Slovenia; I am particularly grateful to her for her selfless assistance with expert advice and invaluable bibliographical information. 6 See, for example, Ivan Vrhovec, Die wohllöbl[iche] landesfürstl[iche] Haupt­stadt Laibach: Culturhistorische Bilder aus Laibachs Vergangenheit, Laibach 1886; Ljubljana: podobe iz njene zgodovine / Ljubljana: aspetti di storia cit-tadina / Ljubljana: Bilder aus der Geschichte der Stadt, ed. S. Vilfan, et al., Ljubljana 1965; Sergij Vilfan, Zgodovina Ljubljane do zacetka 16. stoletja, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane, op. cit. (n. 5), 75–95; Ferdo Gestrin, Ljubljana v 16. in 17. stoletju, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane, op. cit. (n. 5), 105–120; Jože Žontar, Lju­ Soon after (and, to some degree, even before) 1500 there is already in­triguing evidence of Humanist literary tastes and antiquarian interests di­rected towards the Carniolan capital; and Humanist educational ideals are present there throughout the sixteenth century.7 Yet awareness of the Ar-gonautic myth’s potential for adorning local historical lore with welcome classical trimmings remains at this early date only a matter of conjecture and calls for further study. In any event, one needs to bear in mind that the key textual testimonies of Sozomen and Zosimus became accessible in print only during the later sixteenth century.8 And, admittedly: even their appearance in book form in European centres of learning does not auto­ matically mean that either of the two was readily accessible to interested readers in Carniola. Still, at the latest by the third quarter of the seven­ teenth century, there is ample evidence that this was in fact the case. That at this point in time up-to-date scholarly editions of key source texts were made available to interested readers in Ljubljana is attested by the bookseller’s catalogue published in 1678 expressly for the autumn fair in the Carniolan capital by the printer Johann Baptist Mayr (Slov. Janez Krstnik Mayr), who moved in that year from Salzburg to Ljubljana.9 Re- bljana v 18. in prvi polovici 19. stoletja, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane, op. cit. (n. 5), 157–176: 157–167 (with further bibliographical references). 7 See Primož Simoniti, Humanizem na Slovenskem in slovenski humanisti do srede XVI. stoletja, Ljubljana 1979, 59–112; id., H kulturnozgodovinski podobi Ljubljane v 16. stoletju, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane, op. cit. (n. 5), 121–125; id., Der Architekt und Antiquar Augustinus (Prygl) Tyfernus in seinen Beziehungen zu den Bischöfen Slatkonia und Raubar, in: Die Wiener Hofmusikkapelle I: Georg von Slatkonia und die Wiener Hofmusikkapelle, eds. T. Antonicek, E. T. Hil­scher and H. Krones, Wien – Köln – Weimar 1999, 75–90 (with further biblio­graphical references); and see also Stanko Kokole, Totius antiquitatis egregius admirator: Christophorus Raubar zwischen Kampanien und Krain, in: Bayern und Slowenien in der Früh- und Spätgotik: Beziehungen – Anregungen – Paral­lelen, eds. J. Höfler and J. Träger, Regensburg 2003, 175–197. 8 A Latin translation of Zosimus’s Ecclesiastical History by Johannes Löwenklau [Leunclauius] appeared in Basel in 1576; the first printed edition of the Greek original in 1581; see, for example, François Pachoud, s.v. Zosimus, in: Paulys Re-alencyclopädie der classischen Altertumswissenschaft, ed. K. Ziegler, 2nd ser. vol. 19 [= X A], München 1972, 795–841: 838. The editio princeps of Sozomen issued from the presses in 1544; and the first Latin translation was published in 1549; see, for example, Günther Christian Hansen, Einleitung, in: Sozomenus, Kirchengeschichte, ed. J. Bidez (Die griechischen christlichen Schriftsteller der ersten Jahrhunderte 50), Berlin 1960, ix–lxxxviii: xxxviii–xxxix. 9 Catalogus librorum, qui nundinis Labacensibus in officina libraria Joannis Baptistae Mayr, venales prostant, anno M.DC.LXXVIII (facsimile edition, ed. and comm. Branko Reisp, Ljubljana 1966). The library of the National Mu­seum of Slovenia possesses the sole surviving exemplar (shelfmark 16533); see Branko Reisp, Redki stari tiski, Ljubljana 2001, 69–72; and Anja Dular, Živeti markably enough, Mayr’s catalogue lists the then best scholarly edition of Sozomen’sEcclesiastical History,whichwastheworkofthedistinguished French historian Henri de Valois (Henricus Valesius; 1603–1676).10 The factthatsuchlearnedpublicationswereonofferlocallysuggeststhatitwas no coincidence that Mayr moved his printing press to Ljubljana primarily on the initiative of the most outstanding Carniolan scholar of his generation (Fig. 1). –JanezLudvikSchönleben(JohannLudwigSchönleben).11 This is not the place to provide a full account of Schnleben’s life and work;afewchosendatawillhavetosuffice.Schönleben–whowasbornin Ljubljana in 1618 and died there in 1681 – entered the Jesuit order in 1635; hestudiedinVienna,PassauandGraz(whereheobtainedadoctoraldegree in philosophy in 1643) and taught at the Jesuit colleges in Linz, Ljubljana andVienna.In1653hewasallowedtoleavetheorderandmovedtoPadua. There he obtained a doctoral degree in theology and was offered a univer­sity chair, which he declined in expectation of a prebend in his homeland: in 1654 he became Dean of the Cathedral of Ljubljana; and between 1669 and1676heheldthepostofArchdeaconofLowerCarniola.12 As one of the most ardent seventeenth-century proponents of the doc­ trine of the Immaculate Conception, Schönleben (who from 1657 onwards bore the honorific title of Apostolic Prothonotary) was not only a nota­ble theologian and a much admired preacher, whose oratorical skills were thought highly of even at the Imperial court:13 he was also in other respects od knjig: Zgodovinaknjigotrštva na Kranjskem do zacetka 19. stoletja, Lju­ bljana 2002, 97–115 (both with further bibliographical references). 10 Catalogus librorum, op. cit. (n. 9), fol. C[2r]: “Socratis Scholastici & Hermiae Sozomeni, Historia Ecclesiastica. fol.” The abbreviated citation refers to either the first or the second printing (which are both in folio format); see Socratis Scholastici et Hermiae Sozomeni Historia ecclesiastica, Henricus Valesius Graecum textum collatis MSS. codicibus emendauit, Latinč vertit, & annota­tionibus illustrauit. ... Parisiis: Excudebat Antonius Vitré, Regis & Cleri Gal-licani Typographus., M.DC.LXVIII; and Socratis Scholastici et Hermiae Sozo­ meni Historia ecclesiastica, Henricus Valesius Graecum textum collatis MSS. codicibus emendauit, Latinč vertit, & annotationibus illustrauit. ... Moguntiae: Christoph Gerlach & Simon Beckenstein, M DC LXXVII. Cf. Hansen, op. cit. (n. 8), xlii–xliii. 11 Peter Radics, Geschichte des deutschen Buchhandels in Krain, Archiv für die Geschichte des deutschen Buchhandels 6, 1881, 72–93: 82–83; see most re­cently Reisp, op. cit. (n. 9), 95; Dular, op. cit. (n. 9), 90. 12 Maks Miklavcic, s.v. Schönleben, Janez Ludvik, in: Slovenski biografski lek­sikon, ed. A. Gspan, vol. 3, Ljubljana 1967, 236–240 (with further bibliographi­cal references). See also below, notes 13, 15–16. 13 See in particular Max Miklavcic, Johann Ludwig Schoenleben, ein slowenisch-er Mariologe (1618–1681), in: Virgo Immaculata: acta Congressus Mariologici-Mariani Romae anno MCMLIV celebrati, vol. XIV: De immaculata conceptione apud varias nationes, Romae 1957, 214–241; Marijan Smolik, Pridigar, mario­ an outstanding representative of the European “Republic of Letters”, on one occasion adamantly confessing that he was best able to express himself in the learned Latin of international scholarship.14 And indeed: even well beyond the confines of the Holy Roman Empire Schönleben’s contemporaries seem to have been duly impressed by his eloquence and erudition. A case in point is the tell-tale passage (concerning the member of the Accademia dei Gelati named “Ritirato”) in the Memorie, imprese, e ritratti de’signori Accademici Gelati di Bologna of 1672, which reads: “[a]nche fuori de’confini d’Italia hŕ stese le radici la nostra Selva e nel principio della Germania ne vive oggi una dottissima Pianta. Questa č Gio[vanni] Lodovico Schoenleben”.15 Of particular interest in the context of this paper are, however, Schönleben’s pioneering historiographical endeavours, which from the later 1660s onwards enjoyed the patronage of the Carniolan Provincial Estates.16 Characteristically, it was his first literary venture into this field log in zgodovinar Janez Ludvik Schönleben (1618–1681), Bogoslovni vestnik 41, 1981, 399–427; Anton Štrukelj, Johann Ludwig Schoenleben ein Förderer der marianischen Verehrung (1618–1681), in: Acta Congressus Mariologici-Mari­ ani internationalis in republica Melitensi anno 1983 celebrati, vol. IV: De cultu Mariano apud scriptores ecclesiasticos saec. XVII, Romae 1987, 403–423; Loj­ze Kovacic, Janez Ludvik Schönleben, teolog, zgodovinar in znameniti gov-ornik, Slovenski jezuiti 26/2, 1992, 36–37. 14 In the preface to the reader for a collection of sermons that he published in Ger­ man he wrote: “[b]elangend die Sprach / kan ich es nit verneinen / daß es mir leichtervorkommenwaere/etwasinLateinauffzusetzen/vndalsohiemitmeh­rere Leser zu bedienen; weilen aber dise Betrachtungen von mir in Teutscher (obwohlnichtangeborner)SprachdeneZuhoerernvorgetragenworden/ ...”;see [Joannes Ludovicus Schönleben], Joannis Ludovici Schönleben SS. Theologiae Doctoris, Protonotarii Apostolici Fasten-Freytag-vnd Sontag-Predigen. Saltz-burg:GedrucktvndverlegtbeyMelchiorHaan,M. DC. LXVII,n.p. 15 [Valerio Zani], Memorie, Imprese, e Ritratti de’ Signori Accademici Gelati di Bologna, Raccolte nel Principato del Signor Conte Valerio Zani Il Ritardato. In Bologna: per il Manolessi, 1672, 181. See also Marija Pirjevec, Oblike kultur­nega življenja na Slovenskem v barocni dobi, in: Obdobje baroka v slovenskem jeziku, književnosti in kulturi, eds. A. Skaza, A. Vidovic-Muha and J. Sever (Obdobja 9), Ljubljana 1989, 417–422: 421, n. 4; ead., Academia Operosorum in njeni stiki z Italijo, in: Academia Operosorum: Zbornik prispevkov s kolokvija ob 300-letnici ustanovitve, ed. K. Gantar, Ljubljana 1994, 23–34: 27–28, n. 7. Schönleben became a member of the Academy in 1670; see Miklavcic, op. cit. (n. 12), 238. 16 In additon to Miklavcic, op. cit. (n. 12), 238–239 – see in particular Peter von Radics, Der krainische Historiograph Johann Ludwig Schönleben, Mitteilungen des Musealvereins für Krain 7, 1894, 1–72; Jože Rus, Schoenleben in Valva­sor: Pogledi v njuno delavnico in genezo “Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain”, Glasnik Muzejskega društva za Slovenijo 9, 1928, 50–69: 52–55; Franc Zwit­ that was demonstrably responsible for the final (and enduring) upsurge of public interest in Emona and the Argonauts. The booklet in question ap­ peared in Salzburg in 1674 under the revealing title of Aemona vindicata sive Labaco metropoli Carnioliae vetus Aemonae nomen iure assertum.17 For one of its avowed aims was to establish that Emona’s remains lay on the site of modern Ljubljana; in Schönleben’s time (and occasionally even much later) the former’s exact location was still being hotly disputed by combative scholars and antiquarians, the principal remaining contenders being the Istrian costal town of Novigrad (It. Cittanova) and the Friulan city of Gemona (Slov. Humin).18 In the first paragraph of the first chapter of Aemona vindicata the crucial testimonies of Sozomen and Zosimus are to this end quoted in full with the aim of drawing the reader’s attention immediately to the city’s founding father, Jason.19 Yet impressing erudite audiences (and besting his opponents) was clearly not Schnleben’s sole object in publishing Aemona vindicata; no less outspokenly, he aimed at increasing awareness of the Carniolan capital’s classical past among the city’s ruling elite and literary establish­ ment. This aim is clearly borne out by the dedicatory letter, dated 15 July 1673. It is addressed, first, to Ljubljana’s mayor – who then happened to be Schönleben’s brother-in-law, Janez Krstnik Dolnicar (“Joanni Baptis­tae Dolnitscher consuli”); second, to the city judge Janez Jernej Bosio (“Joanni Batholomeo Bosio judici”); and, third, to the city’s inner Council ter, Prva koncepcijaslovenske zgodovine, Glasnik Muzejskega društva za Slo­venijo 20, 1939, 355–372: 356–362; Rajko Ložar, Razvoj in problemi slovenske arheološke vede, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino 17, 1941, 107–148: 112–113; Darja Mihelic, Jezuit Janez Ludvik Schönleben kot zgodovinar, in: Jezuitski kolegij v Ljubljani (1597–1773): zbornik razprav, ed. V. Rajšp (Redovništvo na Slovenskem 4), Ljubljana 1998, 247–268; ead., Izrocilo Konverzije, ki je dose-glo Schnlebna in Valvasorja, Acta Ecclesiastica Sloveniae 20, 1998, 369–396. Even though Schönleben’s work has already attracted some attention (especial­ly with regard to his views on medieval history), it is, seen from the perspective of classical studies, becoming ever more evident that – to borrow Marjeta Šašel Kos’s words – “[a] much more profound study would be needed to establish his exact position within contemporary European historiography”; see Marjeta Šašel Kos, The Roman Inscriptions in the National Museum of Slovenia (Situla: Dissertationes Musei Nationalis Sloveniae 35), Ljubljana 1997, 28–35: 30. 17 [Joannes Ludovicus Schönleben], Joannis Ludovici Schönleben SS. Theol. doc-toris, Protonotarij Apostolici Archidiaconi Carnioliae Inferioris Aemona vin­dicata sive Labaco metropoli Carnioliae vetus Aemonae nomen Jure assertum: Opusculum Prodromum Ad Chronologiam & Annales Carnioliae. Ex antiquis probatis Authoribus, contra nonnulos Recentiores scriptores, qui Aemonam in Istriam transtulerunt, concinnatum. Salisburgi: Typis Melchiori Haan Ty-pographi M. DC. LXXIV. 18 Šašel, op. cit. (n. 2), 543. 19 Schnleben, Aemona vindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), 2–3, 29–30, 85. of Twelve (“Ornatissimo Duodecim-Virorum Senatui Antiquissimae Vr-bis Aemonae, nunc Labaci”). These men constituted the highest-ranking elected magistrates of the communal administration.20 Emphasizing the fact that he took upon himself the arduous task of writing this monograph for the honour of his fatherland (“pro patriae hon-ore”), Schönleben not only endorsed, with unwavering confidence, the de­finitive restitution to Ljubljana of its rightful ancient name – and therefore the rightful claim to the foundation myth by virtue of which his native city could boast of being by far the oldest urban centre in the hereditary Habsburg lands: he also expressed a hope that a knowledge of their ancient forebears’ noble splendour would recall to the city fathers’ minds the dig­nified patrician order of old. Regrettably, he conceded, some of the latter’s outward manifestations had sunk into oblivion; but the latter-day mag­istrates retained a zeal to adorn the city with splendid buildings, to rule with mature judgment and to uphold the prosperity and welfare of its citi­zens, ensuring that the illustrious heritage of the past generations would be handed over in a still more illustrious form to their descendants.21 In his work’s subtitle as well as in his dedicatory letter Schönleben also took care to emphasize that Aemona vindicata should be regarded merely as a modest preparatory essay (“opusculum prodromum”) pub­lished in anticipation of a more comprehensive treatment of the history of Carniola.22 The first (and only published) volume of this ambitous work 20 Schnleben, Aemonavindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), [2r] (the title-page and the dedi­catory letter are numbered separately by folios). The most detailed discussion thus far appears in Radics, op. cit. (n. 16), 48–50. 21 Schnleben, Aemona vindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), [2r–3r]: “[a]ntiquissimam Ur-bium, quas inter serenissimae Doms Austriacae haereditarias hactenus de­prehendi, vestro sisto nomini Magnifici, Nobiles, Strenui, & Circumspecti Domini AEMONAM, seu Labacum, quia vestram, et quidem antiquo nomini restitutam. Non est, quod amplius se fatigent ingenia in perquirendis Aemonae ruderibus, sive in Istria, sive in Carnia, sive in Norico cum quibusdam Neoteri­cis, & nuperis Authoribus. Confectum est bellum. Digito ostensa est AEMONA in ipsa Labaco, ut aliter sentire non possit, qui aliquid sentit. ... Sed neque alia mihi argumenta desunt, quibus impellar ad consecrandum vobis laborem, quem pro patriae honore suscepi. In eam quippe curam sedulincumbitis, ut Urbem vestram Ducatus Carnioliae Metropolim non tam vindicetis AEMONAE splen­dori pristino, quam ad antiquam Patritiatűs dignitatem promoveatis. ... Haec quidem per variationem morum & temporum in desuetudinem abierunt, sed manet vester ardor Urbem ornandi aedificiorum nitore, consiliorum maturitate, Oeconomicae curae solicitudine, quae cum illustria ŕ Majoribus acceperitis, illustriora transmittere conamini in nepotes.” 22 Schnleben, Aemona vindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), [3r]: “[p]ergite viri spectatissimi, et dum pro patria indefesse laboratis, Patriotam vestrum pariter laborantem pro patria, quo hactenus consuevistis favore prosequimini, et bono animo suscipite came out in 1681 as Carniolia antiqua et nova ... sive Inclyti Ducatus Car-nioliae Annales sacro-prophani. It was dedicated, logically, not to the city fathers of Ljubljana but to the Carniolan Provincial Estates.23 In its second chapter Carniolia brings back (substantially revised and amplified) the full text of the first two sections of Aemona vindicata.24 In the paragraph (entitled “Qua occasione Aemona a Jasone condita”) concluding this chapter of Carniolia Schönleben added what might be called the standard Baroque account of the Argonautic foundation myth, embroidering the meagre narrative material, gleaned from Greek and Latin authors, with appropriate rhetorical embellishments that were the product of the author’s own imagination.25 Not surprisingly, then, in the wake of the publication of Aemona vin­dicata and Carniolia antiqua et nova, public fascination with the myth of Opusculum, quod operi ampliori Annalium Patriae, totius inclytae Provinciae honoribus destinato, praeludit. ... .” 23 [Joannes Ludovicus Schönleben], Carniolia antiqua et nova. ... sive Inclyti Ducatus Carnioliae Annales sacro-prophani ... Tomus I. A mundo condito ad an­num Christi millesimum. Authore Ioanne Ludovico Schnleben. Labaci: sumpt. & Typis Joannis Baptistae Mayr, Typographi & Bibliopolae, Anno Christi M. DC. LXXXI. Aemonae seu Labaci Conditae MM.DCCCC.IV. Schnleben dealt with the myth in both, separately paginated, parts of the first (and the only published) volume of Carniolia: in the chronologically ordered “Annales” that constitute Part 2 (but were completed first, by 1680); and in the chorographic Part 1 to which he refers as “Apparatus” (and which was written last, between 1680 and 1681); for the best assessment of “Apparatus” and “Annales” thus far see Rus, op. cit. (n. 16), 52–55. 24 Schnleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 1, 45–73; as compared with Schön­leben, Aemona vindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), 1–73. 25 Schnleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 1, 83–86: “[i]llud ad historiam per-tinet: č Colchide Jason Medeam simul & aureum vellus Jolcos avexit; cům verň ibi securus non esset ad Istri sive Danubij ostia, vbi in mare provolvitur navi­ gavit, eoque adverso in Savum, č Savo in Nauportum progressus, tandem eo loci ubi nunc Hyperlabacum Germanis Oberlaybach, vulgo Verchnick, navem velut in portu applicuit; vnde teste Plinio deinceps loco nomen remansit Nau­portus. Cum verň ultrŕ navigare non posset, ac hyems ingrueret, secundo fluvio iterum descendit cum sociis, vbi fortč iam aliquos sparsim habitantes incolas adverterat, ibique ubi nunc Labacum est hyemavit, teste Sozomeno, collegitque sparsos incolas eosque edocuit vt civitatem inchoaerent, quam Aemonam vel Aemoniam dixit ŕ patria sua, quae postea ab ejus filio Thessalo appellata est Thessalia. Transacta verhyeme de itineribus ad mare Adriaticum ab indige­ nis edoctus, Argo navem quae Hyperlabaci in portu constiterat, per montes transtulit, eaque litora Istriae circumvectus in Hesperiam navigavit. ... Haec substantia est peregrinationis susceptae ŕ Jasone cum Argonautis: haec nostrae AEMONAE ORIGO. ... Atque adeň nihil est in tota narratione de Jasonis iti­nere in has partes suscepto, quod fidem excedat. Hactenus de vera Aemona”. Cf. Schnleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 2, 31–32, 35. the Argonauts generated an ever-growing number of self-confident mani­festations of civic pride in Ljubljana’s putative roots in the mythic past. Particularly revealing in this regard were the manifold cultural initiatives of the Academia operosorum Labacensium (founded in 1693 by several members of its precursor, the Societas Unitorum, established in 1688), which unfortunately cannot be discussed comprehensively in the limited space at my disposal.26 To give an idea of the extent to which the legend of Jason and the Argonauts captured the imagination of the operosi, I shall focus only on some of the many instances in the writings of the academy’s most active founding member – and Schönleben’s nephew – Janez Gregor Dolnicar (Joannes Gregorius Dolnitscher – after ennoblement in 1688 Thalnitscher von Thalberg, 1655–1719), an able jurist who in 1694 became Ljubljana’s highest-ranking salaried official – the Syndic (sindicus).27 Given his social standing, Dolnicar (Fig. 2) could not be a reclusive scholar but had to be­come an active member of his home city’s polite society, who in his spare time took a keen interest in his homeland’s past and no less eagerly also chronicled notable current events of his time and place. This is borne out by Dolnicar’s numerous writings, which during his lifetime attained vary­ 26 See, for example, Viktor Steska, Academia operosorum, Izvestja muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 10, 1900, 37–54, 77–94; Hugo Bren, Za zgodovino aka-demije ljubljanskih operozov, Carniolia 9, 1919, 205–217; Michele Maylender, Storia delle Accademie d’Italia, Bologna 1926–1930, vol. 2, 276–277; vol. 4, 125–135; vol. 5, 194, 399–403; Marija Pirjevec, Kulturno delo Akademije op-erosorum in njeni stiki z rimsko Arkadijo, in: Izvestje srednjih šol s slovenskim ucnim jezikom na Tržaškem ozemlju, 1971/72, Trst/Trieste 1972, 3–9; Primož Si-moniti, Spremna beseda, in: Akademske cebele ljubljanskih operozov, ed., ann. and trans. P. Simoniti, Ljubljana 1988, 79–85; Academia Operosorum: Zbor­nik prispevkov s kolokvija ob 300–letnici ustanovitve, ed. K. Gantar, Ljubljana 1994; Ana Lavric, Ustanavljanje umetnostnih akademij v Ljubljani na pragu 18. stoletja: Statut Academiae trium artium in Academiae incultorum, Acta historiae artis Slovenica 6, 2001, 67–82; Jože Kastelic, Ljubljanska plemiška družba sv. Dizma v casu in prostoru, in: Spominska knjiga ljubljanske plemiške družbe sv. Dizma 1688–1801, vol. 2, Ljubljana 2001, 21–26; Kajetan Gantar, Od Academiae Operosorum do Academiae Philharmonicorum, in: 300 let /Years: Academia Philharmonicorum Labacensium, ed. I. Klemencic, Ljubljana 2004, 57–71 (all with further bibliographical references). 27 Marijan Smolik, s.v. Thalnitscher (do 1688 Dolnizher ali Dolnitscher), Janez Gregor, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, eds. A. Gspan and F. Petre, vol. 4, Ljubljana 1980, 73–76; see also the fundamental studies by Ana Lavric, es­pecially Ana Lavric, Janez Gregor Dolnicar in njegova Zgodovina ljubljanske stolne cerkve, in: Janez Gregor Dolnicar, Zgodovina ljubljanske stolne cerkve: Ljubljana: 1701–1714 / Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Historia Cathedralis Ecclesiae Labacensis: Labaci 1701–1714, ed. A. Lavric, Ljubljana 2003, 11–62: 38–47 (with updated bibliography). ing stages of completion; yet, with few exceptions, in the end remained unpublished. Fortunately, many of them survive in manuscript form in the library of Ljubljana’s Archiepiscopal Seminary.28 They are marked by limitless curiosity and unwavering enthusiasm, even though they on the whole betray a more modest command of the scholarly apparatus that distinguished his erudite uncle.29 Whatever Dolnicar’s limitations, it goes without saying that the documentary value of his diverse literary endeav-ours for the study of social, economic and – above all – cultural history of Ljubljana in the decades before and after 1700 can hardly be overes­timated. And this holds true also with regard to his interest in classical antiquity. In manifold ways this interest already prominently features, for ex­ample, in his manuscript collection of real and imaginary (ancient and modern) sepulchral inscriptions, which was compiled between 1688 and 1691 under the title Cypressus Labacensis.30 But the best case in point is Dolnicar’s treatise Antiquitates Urbis Labacensis, drafted in 1693.31 28 For the list of Dolnicar’s writings, see Smolik, op. cit. (n. 27), 74–76; and Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 25–26, 511. 29 Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 39, n. 158. 30 [Cypressus Labacensis hoc est Epitaphia nec non Inscriptiones publicae mem­ orabiles, Veteres ac recentiores. Quibus Accesserunt auctarij Loco, Vicinorum Locorum, Urbium Incly: Duc: Carnioliae pariter Epitaphia ac inscriptiones. Summa cura congestae Authore ac opere Joannis Gregorii Thalnitscheri J.U.D. Carnioli Labac., Labaci: Typis Jos. Thadaei Mayr Anno MDCLXXXVIII:], Lju­bljana, Seminary Library (Slov. Semeniška knjižnica), Ms. 10. For Dolnicar’s Cypressus Labacensis in general, see also P[eter] v[on] Radics, Cypressus Labacensis, etc.: Laybacherischer Cypreßzweig, das ist: Alte und Neue Grab-schriften u.s.w.; zusammengetragen durch Joh. Gregor Thalnitscher v. Thalberg 1688 (91), Mittheilungen des historischen Vereins für Krain 15, 1860, 47–52; Smolik, op. cit. (n. 27), 74; Kajetan Gantar, Operozi in latinska verzifikacija, in: Academia Operosorum, op. cit. (n. 26), 91–110: 101–107; and Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 40, n. 167, 435–441, 551. For Dolnicar’s initiatives to preserve Roman inscriptions that came to light in Ljubljana and its surroundings, see in particu­ lar Marjeta Šašel Kos, Dolnicarjev lapidarij / The Thalnitscher Lapidarium, Arheološki vestnik 49, 1998, 329–353 (with further bibliographical references). 31 The integral text has come down to us in two autograph manuscripts: Antiqui­tates urbis Labacensis, ex diversis authoribus, manuscriptis, et original: docu­mentis collectae. Auctore Io : Greg : Thalnitschero Icto Carn: Lab: Accademico operoso. An: a partu Virg. M. DC. XC. III: seu Cond: Vrb: Lab. M.M.D. CCCC. XV., Ljubljana, Seminary Library, Ms. 7; and Antiquitates vrbis Labacensis ex diversis avthoribvs originalibvs manuscriptis, nec non propriâ experientiâ collectae. Avctore Io: Greg: Thalnitscher J: V: D: Accademico Operoso, dicto Prouido. Opusculum prodromum ad Cronicon dictae Vrbis Labacensis praelo paratum. Labaci Typis Jos: Thad: Ma˙r Anno Sal: M. DC. XC. [III] Aemonae conditae Anno M: M: ..., Ljubljana, Seminary Library, Ms. 8. For a philologi­ An in-depth analysis of the full range of his sources among the repre­ sentativepublished textsof early-modernantiquarian scholarshipwillhave to wait for another occasion; in this place I only wish to draw attention to three telling examples. In the now lost introductory part of the Cypressus Dolnicar expressly referred to Pietro Aringhi’s expanded Latin edition of Antonio Bosio’s (and Giovanni Severano’s) Roma sotterranea, which first appeared as Roma subterranea novissima in 1651.32 In the seventh chapter cally impeccable critical appraisal from the standpoint of a classical archaeolo­ gist and epigrapher (but not of a student of seventeenth-century antiquarianism) of Dolnicar’s Antiquitates, see Anton von Premerstein, J. G. Thalnitschers Anti-quitates Labacenses, Jahreshefte des Österreichischen archäologischen Insti-tuts 5, 1902, Beiblatt, 7–32; and see also Viktor Steska, Slovstvo: J. G. Thal­nitschers Antiquitates Labacenses. Anton v. Premerstein., Izvestja muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 12, 1902, 92–94; Rajko Ložar, Slovenska umetnostna zgo­dovina, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino 14, 1936–1937, 19–35: 22–23; Ložar, op. cit. (n. 16), 114–115; Smolik, op. cit. (n. 27), 75; Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 16), 42; Ana Lavric, Dolnicarjevi stiki z bakrorezcem Matijem Greischerjem, Acta historiae artis Slovenica 4, 1999, 75–86: 76; and Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 216, n. 4. In the absence of a critical edition of Antiquitates, I have for the purpose of this paper decided to refer only to the Ms. 7 (in which the author’s preface to the reader is dated 13 September 1693, and which Premerstein aptly described as Dolnicar’s “Handexemplar”, on the redaction of which, in the vain hope of imminent publication, the author worked over the following two decades, up to 1714, making constant revisions and also carefully recording new finds that turned up in accidental digs; see Premerstein, op. cit. (n. 31), 8. The Ms. 8 (in which the preface is postdated to 1 November 1693) is in turn characterized as the “für den Druck bestimmte Version”; see Premerstein, op. cit. (n. 31), 8–9. 32 One of the now lost 21 pages of the Cypressus Labacensis contained, according to Viktor Steska’s Slovenian paraphrase, the following sentence: “J. Arring nas v svoji knjigi ‘Roma subterranea etc.’ uci, kakšne vrste spomenikov, mavzole­jev, napisov in obeliskov so si dali postavljati smrtniki, da bi ohranili spomin nase” (“J. Arring teaches us in his book ‘Roma subterranea etc.’ what kind of monuments, mausoleums, inscriptions, and obelisks were erected by mortals to preserve their memory”); see Viktor Steska, Dr. Janez Gregorij Dolnicar, kran­jski zgodovinar, Dom in Svet 14, 1901, 517–526, 581–586: 583 (English trans­lation from Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 16), 43). It is clear that Dolnicar could have referred to either of the two printings, which came out, respectively, in 1651 and 1659: Roma subterranea nouissima: in qua post Antonellum Bosium Antesig­nanum, Io: Severanum ... et celebres alios scriptores antiqua Christianorum et praecipue martyrum coemeteria, tituli, monimenta, epitaphia, inscriptiones, ac notabiliora sanctorum sepulchra sex libris distincta illustrantur et quampluri­mae res ecclesiasticae iconibus graphice describuntur, ac multiplici tum sacra, tum profana eruditione declarantur Opera et studio Pauli Aringhi ... . Romae: Expensis Blasij Diuersini, & Zanobij Masotti bibliopolarum. Typis Vitalis Mas-cardi., MDCLI; and Roma subterranea novissima: in qua post Antonium Bosium Antesignanum, Jo: Severanum ... et celebres alios scriptores antiqua Chris­ of Antiquitates, which deals with Roman religious practices, Dolnicar ac­knowledges his indebtedness to the works of the French antiquarian Guil­laume Du Choul (ca. 1496–1560).33 The main numismatic authority cited in the chapter dedicated to ancient coins is, in turn, Dolnicar’s elder con­temporary Charles Patin (1633–1693).34 These outstanding sixteenth-and seventeenth-centurymanuals(whichDolnicarnodoubthadtohand),stand out for their lavish illustrations. Dolnicar’s acute awareness of the merits of visual documentation rather than mere verbal exposition of antiquarian learning in general, as is borne out by Antiquitates Urbis Labacensis, clearly went handinhand witha notable shiftfromlessexclusiverelianceontexts to ever more inclusive consideration of the physical remains of Emona. * * * On this occasion, note should duly be taken of the fact that Schnle­ tianorum et praecipue martyrum coemeteria, tituli, monimenta, epitaphia, in-scriptiones, ac nobiliora sanctorum sepulchra sex libris distincta illustrantur ... Opera et studio Pauli Aringhi ... . Coloniae; & veneunt Lutetiae Parisiorum.: Apud Fredericum Leonard ..., MDCLIX (facsimile reprint: Portland 1972), or the abbreviated edition, which came out in 1671: Roma subterranea novissima: in qua antiqua Christianorum et praecipue martyrum, coemeteria, tituli, moni­menta, epitaphia, inscriptiones, ac notabiliora sanctorum sepulchra, tribus li­bris distincta, fideli enarratione pariter ac graphicis iconibus, ceu gemina face illustrantur; plurimaeque inde res ecclesiasticae declarantur ex absolutissimo opere Pauli Aringhi. In hanc portabilem formam concinnata ... . Arnhemiae: apud Joan. Fridericum Hagium, anno M.DC.LXXI). For Antonio Bosio, see Nicola Parise, s.v. Bosio, Antonio, in: Dizionario biografico degli Italiani, vol. 13, Roma 1971, 257–259; and for the cited monograph see, for example, also Simon Ditchfield, Text before Trowel: Antonio Bosio’s Roma Sotteranea Revis­ited, Studies in Church History 33, 1997, 343–360. 33 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 16 (in the margin: “... hi enim teste Guil. Choulio de Vet. Rom: religione in prin:”), p. 23 (in the margin: “Guil. de Choul / De Vet. Rom. relig. / pag. 32.”) The reference is clearly to the Latin translation of Du Choul’s three treatises on Roman institutions, which appeared together in Amsterdam in 1685 under the title Veterum Romanorum Religio, Castramen­tatio, Disciplina Militaris ut & Balneae ex antiquis numismatibus & lapidibus demonstrata Auctore Guilielmo du Choul Consil. Regio etc. e Gallico in Lati­num translata. Amstelaedami: apud Janssonio-Waesbergios, 1685 [1686]. For a biographical sketch of Du Choul, see, for example, John Cunnally, Images of the Illustrious: The Numismatic Presence in the Renaissance, Princeton, N.J. 1999, 187–188 (with further bibliographical references). 34 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), pp. 41–42. For Charles Patin, see for ex­ample Christian E. Dekesel, Charles Patin: A Man Without a Country, Paris, France, 23 February 1633 – Padova, Italy, 10 October 1693: An Annotated and Illustrated Bibliography, Ghent 1990; and Celebrazioni Patiniane: Carolus Pa-tinus, 1633–1693, 4 maggio 1994, atti, Padova 1996. ben was by no means insensitive to the evidential value of the decaying Roman walls; and indeed, as Marjeta Šašel Kos has pointed out, he em­phatically asserted the great significance of epigraphic testimonies found in Ljubljana and its surroundings (which he studied at first hand); and on the evidence of an unpublished treatise, to which attention has first been drawn by Peter Radics, he seems also to have been engaged in the study of locally unearthed ancient coins.35 Still, unlike Aemona vindicata (or the corresponding section of Carniolia antiqua et nova), Antiquitates Urbis Labacensis aimed at a systematic description of the material remains of Emona in the well-established tradition of an antiquarian treatise; hence its emphasis inevitably rested far more strongly on the non-literary evidence of ruins, inscriptions, coins and other artefacts. And this fact induced the author to make full use of their evocative force as well. The first chapter of the Antiquitates closes with four elegiac distichs that reflectively thematize the ancient city’s long-departed grandeur, and have (in an earlier, slightly different, version, recently published and el­ egantly translated by Kajetan Gantar) under the title Epitaphium Urbis Labacensis also come down to us in Dolnicar’s Cypressus Labacensis.36 As in Cypressus, in Antiquitates Emona herself addresses the reader by recalling her former glory, pointing to her ruins, lamenting the total dis­appearance of her ancient name (and consoling herself by the equal fame 35 Schnleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 1, 46: “... ostendam clarč, quod vera Aemona non fuerat vnquam alibi, quam vbi hodie adhuc visuntur ejus ruinae extrŕ Urbem Labacensem ad partem Occidentalem, & illae quidem non integrae, quiŕ partem illarum occupavit recentior Civitas Labacum, vti constat omnibus Labacensibus & monstrari potest etiam peregrinis ad oculum”. Schön­leben, Cariniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 1, 214: “[c]ertissima vetustatis testimonia sunt Inscriptiones antiquae in lapidibus & ruderibus, quae ipsis historicis lucem offerunt. ...”. See Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 16), 30–35. For the evidence of Schönle­ben’s interest in numismatics, see Radics, op. cit. (n. 16), 65; and see also Peter Kos, Numizmatika na Slovenskem: zgodovinski oris, Arheološki vestnik 33, 1982, 235–257: 236–240, figs. 2–3. Kos also discusses the numismatic chapter in Dolnicar’s Antiquitates; see ibid. 240–243, fig. 6. 36 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 5: “Hac condor quondam dominans Ae­mona ruinâ / Quae felix fueram, Marte, situ, populo. / Reliquias quascunque uides, quae moenia cernis / Diruta, splendoris sunt monumenta mei / Nec No-men tenui, cum uerso nomine uocor / Labacum, clarum caetera nomen habet. / Discite mortales sub sole nil esse securum! / Vrbes maturas cum sua fata manent”. The earlier version recorded in Dolnicar, Cypressus, Ms. 10 (n. 30), p. 104, reads, in turn: “Hac quondam celebris condor Aemona ruinâ, / quae speciosa steti, marte, situ, populo. / Reliquias quascunque uides, quae moenia cernis, / diruta, splendoris sunt monumenta mei. / Nec nomen tenui cum uerso nomine uocor / Labacum, clarum caetera nomen habet. / Discite mortales sub sole nil esse securum / Ac constans, Vrbes cum sua fata manent”; see Gantar, op. cit. (n. 30), 106–107. already earned by her rightful heir – Ljubljana), and, finally, exhorts the reader (reminding him/her of his/her own mortality), to ponder on the truth that nothing lasts for ever under the sun. Interestingly, in the Antiqui­tates Dolnicar initially introduced this poem with the words: “she [i.e., Emona], striken by war, expired buried among her own ruins, where we [now] read the following epitaph”, as if he were publishing a transcription of a genuine lapidary inscription rather than his own poetic composition; yet, on second thoughts, he deleted the subordinate clause “ubi sequens legimus Epitaphium”, and (albeit still resorting to the pluralis modesti­ae) declared his authorship by writing instead: “and to her [i.e. Emona] I dedicate this lament and [to her I] erect the [following] epitaph” (“cui has porgimus Nenias et struimus epitaphium”).37 The placing and original characterization of this second version of the Epitaphium Urbis Labacensis recorded at the end of the first chapter of the Antiquitates offers an example of Dolnicar’s playful simulation of the existence of an imaginary epigraphic “testimony”. Not surprisingly, therefore, he initially almost gave in to the same temptation in order to give a stronger ending to his account of the Jasonic foundation myth in the opening section of the same chapter.38 At the end of the paragraph recount­ing the Argonauts’ arrival and their settling down to spend the winter in the newly founded Emona, – having claimed, like Schönleben, that the name, for which he prefers the now obsolete reading “Aemona”, was de­rived from Aemonia (viz. Haemonia), the poetical name for Jason’s home­land of Thessaly – Dolnicar inserted another feigned inscription, which was even written out in capital letters to enhance the false impression of authenticity: “Jason, son of Aeson, with the Argonauts, founded Ljubljana in the year 1222 before the advent of our Saviour.”39 On a first impulse, Dolnicar introduced this (patently non-classical) inscription as “a fragmentary stone that conveyed this information about the founder.”40 Moreover, further on, having endorsed his uncle’s specula­tive chronological calculation that the Argonauts arrived in the year 1174 after the Universal Flood, which is to say in 2222 B.C., he for the second 37 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 5. 38 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), pp. 1–3. 39 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 2: “IASON ESONIS | FILIVS CVM ARGONAV(tis) | LABACVM CONDIDIT | ANNO ANTE SERV(atoris) NOS(tri) ADVEN(tum) m.cc. ii [= A.D. 1222]”. Dolnicar omitted the inscrip­ tion in Ms. 8 (p. 5); see Premerstein, op. cit. (n. 31), 20, no. 4. For other falsae at­ tributable to Dolnicar, see ibid., 17–18, 19–21, nos. 1–3, 5–9; and see also Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 30), 341–344, 351–353, nos. 13–14 (with further bibliographical references). 40 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 2: “refert hoc lapidare fragmentum, quod sic habet, de conditore”. time explicitly cited the same “lapidare fragmentum” as if it provided wel­come epigraphic corroboration of what had been handed down in the writ­ings of historians.41 The purpose of the fictitous stone tablet was twofold: to impress on the reader’s mind the founder’s name as well as the date of foundation. Interestingly, during the revision of the text of Antiquitates, Dolnicar decided to eliminate all phrases that claimed that the inscription was carved on an ancient stone: he struck out the introductory words “refert hoc lapi-dare fragmentum, quod sic habet, de conditore” as well as the concluding “et relicta inscriptio notat”. Perhaps he suddenly became concerned about having created a false impression. For, even though Dolnicar’s epigraphic forgeries in Antiquitates were clearly inspired by an ardent desire to have concrete evidence for the arguably most momentous event in his home town’s remote past, they were surely not intended to fool his scholarly readership; far from being adduced as factual historical evidence in the modern sense of the word, they were used as playful “ploys” aimed at enhancing the developing narrative’s rhetorical evidentia. Another feature that sets Dolnicar’s vivid re-telling of the story apart from Schnleben’s scholarly prose is the former’s propensity to impress the distant mythic origins of Emona on the malleable minds of contem­ porary readers by drawing on some of the familiar traits of Ljubljana’s late-seventeenth-century urban reality. Thus he imagined how Jason and his crew, sailing downstream on the river Ljubljanica and searching for a convenient location to pass the approaching winter, halted and put to shore precisely where there lay, in Dolnicar’s own time, Ljubljana’s ac­tual fluvial port – at Breg (Ger. Rain; viz. Raan); indeed, he ventured to pinpoint the exact spot of disembarcation in the vicinity of the Church of Saint Fridolinus.42 41 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 3: “annales produnt, et relicta inscrip­tio notat”. The “annales” might be understood in generic terms as “historical writings”, but in this case it is likely that the writer had some specific source in mind: Schönleben, in the annalistic second part of the first volume of his Carniolia, in contrast to other authorities placed the arrival of the Argonauts and the city’s foundation in 1222 B.C. and their departure in the spring of the following year, 1221 B.C. See Schönleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 2, 31–32, 35. 42 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 2: “... ad ripam Labaci, ubi modo aedes S[ancto] Fridolino sacrae visuntur, ... constitit”. For the location of the Chapel of Saint Fridolinus (more precisely, SS. Clement and Fridolinus; also known as Saint Lawrence), see Milko Kos, Srednjeveška Ljubljana: Topografski opis mesta in okolice, Ljubljana 1955, 17–18, appendix, map 1; for a view of the port at Breg see, for example, the Prospect deß Rains zu Laybach, a pen drawing attributed to Joseph Leopold Wiser and probably dating from between 1760 and 1765 (Ljubljana, City Museum, inv. no. 10639 [the chapel of Saint Lawrence is ing vision of Jason’s primeval Emona as a group of humble “huts made of wood”.43 More likely than not, the inspiration for this detail came from the principal published work of the foremost amateur polymath among the landed nobility of seventeenth-century Carniola – Janez Vajkard Val-vasor (Johann Weichard Valvasor; 1641–1693).44 In his monumental Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain of 1689, Valvasor and his literary adviser- cum-co-author, Erasmus Francisci (1627–1695), on one hand transmitted Schnleben’s learned disquisitions about Emona’s foundation by the Argo­nauts,45 while on the other hand Valvasor of his own accord eagerly specu­lated about the exact location of Jason’s primeval settlement. In the first appendix of the fifth book of Die Ehre he systematically described the findings of his pioneering attempt to plot all on-site remains of the Roman colonia and proposed that the mythic “Ur-Emona” occupied an expanse of land encompassing the location of the large dairy farm (“Großer Meyer-hof”) belonging to the Teutonic Knights and the nearby suburban village marked as No. 2]); Ivan Stopar, Ljubljanske vedute, Ljubljana 1996, 49, 73–74, cat. no. 17. For the tell-tale toponym Breg (viz. Rann), see Vlado Valencic, Zgo­ dovina ljubljanskih ulicnih imen, Ljubljana 1989, 9. 43 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 2: “[Jason] ... rudes e ligno exstruxit domunculas ...”. 44 For Valvasor in general, see Peter von Radics, Johann Weikhard Freiherr von Valvasor (geb. 1641, gest. 1693), Laibach 1910; Branko Reisp, Kranjski polihis-tor Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Ljubljana 1983; Janez Vajkard Valvasor Slovencem in Evropi / Johann Weichard Valvasor to the Slovenes and to Europe, ed. L. Gostiša, exh. cat., Ljubljana 1989; Valvasorjev zbornik: Ob 300 letnici izida Slave vojvodine Kranjske, ed. A. Vovko, Ljubljana 1990 (with further biblio­graphical references). For Valvasor’s personal contacts with (and admiration of) Schönleben, see in particular Rus, op. cit. (n. 16), 55; and Reisp, op. cit. (n. 44), 143, 249. For an evaluation of Valvasor’s attitudes and interests with regard to ancient history and in particular epigraphy, see Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 16), 36–39. 45 [Johann Weichard Valvasor], Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain ... Durch selbst­ eigene, gantz genaue, Erkündigung, Untersuchung, Erfahrung und Historisch-Topographische Beschreibung, In Funffzehn, wiewol in vier Haupt-Theile unterschiedenen Büchern, wie auch häuffigen Abrissen und zierlichen Kupffer-Figuren ausgebreitet von Johann Weichard Valvasor, Freyherrn. ... In reines Teutsch gebracht, auch, auf Begehren, mit manchen beyfügigen Erklärungen, Anmerck- und Erzehlungen, erweitert durch Erasmum Francisci ... . Laybach: anno M DC LXXXIX. Zu finden bey Wolfgang Moritz Endter, Buchhändlern in Nürnberg (facsimile reprint: Ljubljana – München, 1970–1974), Part 2 (Book 5), 55; Part 2 (Book 5), 232–233; Part 4 (Book 13), 8–9 (the sections in question were for the most part written by Erasmus Francisci). See also Šašel Kos, op. cit. (n. 16), 38–39. of Krakovo (Ger. Krakau), which consisted of – in his words – only “some houses made of wood.”46 In the related copperplate engraving showing a schematic ground plan of Emona, Valvasor, further, marked out this area as a rectangular field inside the south-east corner of what he believed to have been the en­ circling fortifications of the Roman colonia.47 But the surface covered by the map in Die Ehre is about one third larger than the actual size of Emona (which was laid out during the reign of Emperor Augustus as a typical urbs quadrata, measuring 523.6 by 435.5 metres).48 Thus, in effect, Valvasor’s claimed site for the Argonauts’ rustic wooden huts somewhat ironically, for the most part, falls outside (rather than inside) the circumference of the ancient city walls.49 Still, since their actual outer perimeter was correctly 46 Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 2 (Book 5), 237: “[m]eines Vermutens / hat Jason die Stadt (oder ein Städtlein) auf derjenigen Stelle / ... gebauet / darauf anjetzo vorberührter / zum Teutschen Hause gehöriger / Großer Meyerhof / und die Vorstadt / oder gleichsam das Dorff / welches Cracau genannt wird liget; alwo die Fischer wohnen / und darin es etliche / wiewohl mit nur hölzernen Häusern besetzte Gaßen / und auch überaus viel grosser Garten / hat: daß also dieser ziemlich Grosser / Platz / für den Raum eines kleinen Städtleins / wohl passiren kann”. For a description of seventeenth-century Krakovo, see also Val-vasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 3 (Book 11), 667; and Kos, op. cit. (n. 42), 40 (appendix, map no. 1); Valencic, op. cit. (n. 42), 9. 47 Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 2 (Book 5), 236, fig. 52; see also Ložar, op. cit. (n. 16), 113–114; and Reisp, op. cit. (n. 44), 221. There can be no doubt whatever that Dolnicar was well aware of Valvasor’s hypothesis; in the second chapter of Antiquitates he refers to it directly as follows:“[n]am Jasonis struc­tura modico circumscribebatur termino, longe majorem uercum inibi colonia Romanorum conderetur habuit circuitum, quadrangularem tradit Valvasorius, Patriae celeberimus historiographus, in Annalibus, par. 5, pag. 236. ego oblon­gam obseruo, ac duplo majorem, quam censet idem Author, meam uero opinio­nem sequenti exhibeo delineatione”. See Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 6, and also Premerstein, op. cit. (n. 31), 10; Ložar, op. cit. (n. 16), 114; and Josip Klemenc, Zgodovina Emone, in: Zgodovina Ljubljane, eds. I. Rakovec and S. Vilfan, Ljubljana 1955, 331–426: 333. However, even though – in his patriotic zeal to emphasize Emona’s grandeur – Dolnicar boldly sought to “emend” Val-vasor by extending the Roman city’s wall perimeter towards the north (into the area of Emona’s largest necropolis extra muros), with regard to the location of the primeval Jasonic settlement the Antiquitates agree fully with Die Ehre. 48 For an up-to-date map of Emona, see – in addition to the fundamental article by Šašel, op. cit. (n. 2), 553–554 – Boris Vicic, Colonia Iulia Emona: 30 Jahre später, in: The Autonomous Towns of Noricum and Pannonia, op. cit. (n. 2), 21–45: 24, fig. 3. 49 The previously mentioned “grosser Meyerhof” – Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 2 (Book 5), 237 – was in fact built over the south-eastern corner of the actual Roman wall (see, for example, Ljubljana, op. cit. (n. 6), 26–27 (the map delineated, by Anton Tomaž Linhart, only in the 1780s,50 Dolnicar’s gen­eration could be forgiven for associating the legend freely with each and every (actual or imaginary) vestige of classical antiquity in sight.51 This is demonstrated in an exemplary fashion in the literary output of another luminary of the Academia operosorum, the prolific Latin versifier Jurij Andrej Gladic (Georgius Andreas Gladich; 1659–1725).52 Probably as early as about 1714, Gladic (who had then just become Dean of the Ljubljana Cathedral) set out to recast, in hymnic octastichs, the ancient and modern ecclesiastical history of Carniola.53 Regrettably, the wherea­bouts of Gladic’s manuscript, known by the title Vetus et Nova Carnioliae Ecclesiastica memoria, which remained unpublished at his death in 1725, have been unknown since the late 1940s; and only isolated portions of the poem have so far appeared in print. But, fortunately, another auto­graph (albeit incomplete) draft copy accidentally found its way to poster­ity among Schönleben’s private papers, today in the National Archives of Slovenia.54 I therefore take this opportunity to add a few preliminary next to p. 269, no. 31), while Krakovo already lies extra muros; see ibid., map next to p. 269. 50 See Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 2 (Book 5), 236, fig. 52; as com­pared with Anton Linhart, Versuch einer Geschichte von Krain und den übri-gen Ländern der südlichen Slawen Oesterreichs, vol. 1, Laibach 1788, 308–309 (“Kupfertafel N. II: ‘Plan von dem Kommendischen Grunde zu Laibach, wo das alte Aemona gestanden hat’”). 51 On the evidence of tell-tale traditional toponyms – such as Gradišce (Ger. Burg-stall) and Mirje (derived from Lat. murus, or Ger. Mauer) – the Roman ruins had much earlier captured the imagination of the local population (as early as 1517 one source tellingly refers to the tilled ground “under the heathen wall” – “vnndter der heydnisch mawr”); see Kos, op. cit. (n. 42), 42; Ljubljana, op. cit. (n. 6), 25–29; and Valencic, op. cit. (n. 42), 9, 69. 52 Joža Glonar, s.v. Gladich, Jurij Andrej, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, eds. I. Cankar and F. K. Lukman, vol. 1, Ljubljana 1926, 214; for a list of Gladic’s published works, see Primož Simoniti, Sloveniae scriptores Latini recentioris aetatis, Zagreb – Ljubljana 1972, 51–52; for a perceptive assessment of Gladic’s Latin poetry in general, see Kajetan Gantar, Operozi in latinska verzifikacija, in: Academia Operosorum, ed. K. Gantar, Ljubljana 1994, 91–110: 96–100. For further bibliographical references, see also the following note. 53 Ana Lavric, Ljubljanska stolnica v Gladicevi latinski pesnitvi, in: “Hodil po zemlji sem naši ...”: Marijanu Zadnikarju ob osemdesetletnici / Festschrift Marijan Zadnikar, ed. A. Klemenc, Ljubljana 2001, 387–403 (with further bib­liographical references). See also Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 228, n. 61. 54 Relatio Historico-Poetica de antiquitate Labacensi atque de Notabilibus Memo-rijs Carnioliae praesertim de Noua Cathedrali Ecclesia S. Nicolai Labaci, Lju­bljana, State Archives of the Republic of Slovenia (Arhiv Republike Slovenije, AS 1001; formerly: Priv A VIII. SCHÖNLEBEN DR. J. L.). The Relatio is listed by Miklavcic among Schönleben’s papers with the apposite remark that it “can observations on the (hitherto unpublished) segment (see Appendix on p. 249), which the poet dedicated to Jason and Emona, so that – as he himself put it – “antiquity that bestowed [particular] nobility on the city, would not remain undisclosed” (st. 4). Even a cursory look at the content of this section of the Vetus et Nova Carnioliae Ecclesiastica memoria confirms its author’s explicit statement that his poem’s sole aim was simply to recapitulate the remarkable past events that had already been discussed at length by Schnleben and Val­vasor.55 On one hand, Gladic accordingly started by listing summarily all varieties of historical, toponomastic and geographical argument that, as Schönleben had shown, together upheld modern Ljubljana’s claim to Emo­na’s ancient name (st. 5): “that Ljubljana once [truly] was called ‘Aemona’ is attested by the river Nauportus [modern Ljubljanica], which carried the Argonauts; it is proven by its site, by the decaying ancient walls, by the [nearby] mountain ridges of the Alps”, and – last but not least – “by the most trustworthy classical writers”. The complementary adjacent strophe, in its turn, reaffirms Schnleben’s chronological point about the presumed date of Jason’s arrival as the year 2831 after the Creation of the World, or 1222 B.C. (st. 6). Valvasor’s aforementioned topographic survey of Roman Emona (as well as of the supposed location of the Argonautic settlement) is echoed, on the other hand, in the eighth stanza of Gladic’s poem, where we read that Jason “laid the foundation stone where there are the fields be­longing to the Teutonic Knights”, that the town was “built in quadrangular shape, in the likeness of Jerusalem,” and was “to repel the foes, girded with turreted walls that – as their foundations tell – spread out toward the river bank ...” (st. 8). not be by Schönleben” (“ki pa ne more biti S[chönlebn]ova”); Miklavcic, op. cit. (n. 12), 240. Still, this is not the place to provide a detailed description of the manuscript since Dr. Ana Lavric, the author of a recent fundamental article on Gladic’s poem (see above, previous note), who independently reached the same conclusion and generously shared with me her findings, is about to publish from it the sections dedicated to the biographies of the prince-bishops of Ljubljana. That it in fact contains one (an earlier draft?) version of Gladic’s poem is already proven beyond any shadow of doubt by the fact that the opening six lines of the first stanza match exactly the first six verses of the Relatio historico-poetica de Memorabilibus Carnioliae, as quoted in Linhart, op. cit. (n. 50), unpaginated “Vorrede”; see also the Slovenian translation: Anton Linhart, Poskus zgodovine Kranjske in ostalih dežel južnih Slovanov Avstrije, 1 in 2, ed. B. Grafenauer, transl. M. Šašel Kos, A. Gspan and N. Gspan-Prašelj, Ljubljana 1981, 7–8. 55 “Invenies hic plurima, / Quae per tomos dispersa / In nuce totam Iliadem Carni­ olorum / Per ampla quae Volumina / Schoenlebius conscripsit / Et fama Valva­ sorius / prolixius votavit ...” The lines were published by Steska, op. cit. (n. 26), 81; see also Lavric, op. cit. (n. 53), 389, n. 23. The rest of the “Jasonic section” of the Memoria shows, however, that Gladic not only made use of his two acknowledged sources, Schönleben’s Carniolia and Valvasor’s Die Ehre: he must have equally attentively read and reacted to Dolnicar’s Antiquitates. Like Dolnicar’s account, Gladic’s précis of Ljubljana’s ancient fore­bear’s fate (st. 9) winds up with a woeful evocation of Emona’s destruction by Attila the Hun (and the subsequent eradication of her ancient name).56 Moreover, the concluding lines of the “Jasonic digression” in the Memoria provide an interesting parallel to Dolnicar’s Epitaphium Urbis Labacen-sis. Gladic here assures his imaginary reader that after glancing at the classical ruins indicating “how glorious, how large, how renowned, how illustrious, how splendid this city once was,” he (i.e. the reader) cannot but conclude in silence: “oh, how quickly it perished, albeit worthy of eternal fame ...” (st. 10). But perhaps most remarkably, in the metric unit that is – whether deliberately or accidentally – placed exactly in the centre of the “Jasonic section” (st. 7), Gladic transformed (and further embroidered) Dolnicar’s generic words of praise to refer to specific features of Ljubljana’s physical setting. Dolnicar wrote merely that Jason was driven there because of the loveliness of the site and its convenient position as well as the promised fertility of the surrounding land.57 Gladic, however, also highlighted the flatlands of the Plain of Ljubljana and pointed to the landmark of the iso­lated Castle Hill (Slov. Ljubljanski grad; Ger. Schlossberg) in the follow­ing words: “having first observed the [pleasing] plain and the beauty of the fields, and [then] beheld the stretched out hill, the river Nauportus flowing nearby, the green meadows and groves, and the salubrious skies, Jason said: ‘here I want Emona to stand’” (st. 7). In short, Gladic’s Memoria pro­vides an instructive case in point of how Ljubljana’s geographical position and Emona’s Roman remains could both be conveniently turned into an evocative stage-drop against which Argonautic lore might conveniently be set for the eyes of the Baroque beholder. But, on reflection, it soon becomes clear that it was in fact Dolnicar who was the first to be fully conscious of the persuasive power of pictorial representation and who – decades before Gladic – was already contem­plating the use of images in propagating the tale of the city’s foundation. It is surely not mere coincidence that, in the opening sentence of the first 56 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 5: “... ab Attila, Hunnorum rege, Flagello Dei, Tyranno saeuissimo”, as compared with Gladic, Memoria, in Appendix, st. 9, ll. 3–4: “Donec totam subuerteret / Tyrannus Rex Hunnorum.” 57 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 2: “[Jason] ... ineunte hyeme ... eum locum sibi in quo cum commilitonibus hiemaret, quaereret, ad ripam Labaci … amoenitate loci pelectus [sic], qui praeter situs comoditatem [sic] uber aliquod fertilitatis promittebat, constitit ...”. chapter of the Antiquitates, he not only briefly refers to Jason’s noble char­acter but also evokes the hero’s handsome outward appearance as if sum­ming it up “in a small painted panel”.58 Against this background, it should come as absolutely no surprise that – over a decade before beginning to write his Antiquitates – Dolnicar was seeking to promote his home town’s Argonautic origins with the aid of the visual arts. At the same time as Schönleben was seeing through the press the first volume of his Carniolia antiqua et nova, his nephew made his literary début as the deviser of a set of detailed iconographic instruc­tions. On 1 January 1680 Dolnicar wrote the introductory epistle to his blue­print for the architectural appearance, exterior adornments, and interior embellishments of Ljubljana’s would-be new town hall, which he wrote in German under the Latin title of Curia Labacensis Urbis Metropolis Ducatus Carnioliae.59 His written programme’s primary aim is tellingly summarized in the subtitle, which reads: “this is a detailed description and exposition of all the remarkable paintings and ingenious emblems that will grace the new town hall that is about to be built in the princely capital city of Ljubljana”.60 And, both compositionally and conceptually, the hub of the fittingly elaborate decorative scheme for the main council chamber on the first floor was to be Jason in Glory. 58 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 1: “[p]rimus ille Vrbis Labacensis condi-tor fuit Jason regio prognatus sanguine, Heros sui aeui omnium excellentissi-mus, aequae staturae, facie formosus ... ut uero seriem initij breui quasi tabella complectar”. 59 The text, which (judging from its title-page) was planned to be published anon­ymously, never reached the press and survives in a single autograph copy; its full title reads: CVRIA Labacensis Vrbis Metroplis Duc: Carnioliae. Dass ist. Ausführliche Beschreib- vnnd auslegung aller merkhwürdigen gemahl, vnd sinreichen sinbildern, welche in das neü erbauende Rathhaus der fürstlichen haubtstatt Laybach khomben Sollen. Angegeben vnnd Verfast durch einen Treügesünten Patrioten. Cum Facultate Superiorum Gedruckht zu La˙bach be˙ Johann Bap[tis]ta Ma˙r AD: 1680, Ljubljana, Seminary Library, Ms. 12. The full text (and a selection of cursorily sketched – and for the most part unfin­ished – amateur drawings) was published in full (but only sparingly annotated) in Sergij Vilfan, Zgodovina ljubljanske mestne hiše, in: Zgodovina ljubljan­ ske mestne hiše s porocilom o delih in perspektivnim programom asanacije in rekonstrukcije (Knjižnica Kronike 4), Ljubljana 1958, 7–105: 72–99, 105, figs. 23–28 (for the introductory letter of 1 January 1680, see ibid., 79–81). See also Viktor Steska, Stara mestna hiša ljubljanska, Izvestja muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 9, 1899, 185–191; Silvo Kopriva, Ljubljana skozi cas: ob latinskih in slovenskih napisih in zapisih, Ljubljana 1989, 67–69; Emilijan Cevc, Academia operosorum in likovna umetnost, in: Academia Operosorum, op. cit. (n. 26), 111–124: 121; and Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 40, 44, nn. 163–164, 202–203. 60 Vilfan, op. cit. (n. 59), 79. Dolnicar envisaged the mythic hero on a triumphal chariot in the cen­tral field of the chamber’s ceiling. Hovering above his head there were to be the Genius of Emona placing a crown on his head and a personifica­tion of Fame proclaiming his eternal glory, while “some airborne angels exclaiming ‘long live Emona’” (probably conceived as winged putti carry­ing inscribed scrolls) were to be distributed around the wagon. This focal group was to be be surrounded by the forty-two Argonauts, who had just begun building their town.61 The Curia Labacensis was conceived shortly after Dolnicar received his doctoral degree in Law from the University of Bologna (on 21 June 1679) and – no doubt, on his uncle’s recommendation – also became a member of the Accademia dei Gelati; apparently, it was written during a short visit at home during a period (lasting until 1683) when he was still enjoying relative freedom from public office and was able to travel exten­sively throughout Italy, where he was directly exposed to (and acquired a lifelong enthusiasm for) the aesthetic ideals of the High Baroque.62 Its exuberance thus understandably left a strong mark on his instructions for depicting a monumental multi-figure apotheosis of the Argo’s captain and his crew. Still, Dolnicar’s elaborate project proved to be far too ambi­tious (and, one could well imagine, too costly); the new town hall was, in this form, destined, probably from the outset, to remain a never-realized dream. The earliest known pictorial representation of Emona’s foundation by the Argonauts (Fig. 3) is a text illustration in Die Ehre deß Hertzogth­ums Crain of 1689: a copperplate engraving by Andreas Trost based on a drawing by one of Valvasor’s artist protégés, Janez Koch (Joannes Koch, also Coch; c.1650–c.1715).63 Though postdating the Curia Labacensis by 61 Dolnicar, Curia, Ms. 12 (n. 59), fol. 7v: “... [d]iser hoche vnnd zierliche Saal ist billich wegen seiner Vortrefflichkheit hoch zu achten; den anfang derselben zu beschreiben, will ich von den obristen mittlern Platt, an dem Himel oder dekhen mahen, darauf der Jason, erster Vrheber diser Statt auf einen Triumpf wagen vnd den beglitten seine 42 Gepferten oder Argonauten, welhe sich aldar nider gemaht, vnnd die Statt zu pauen angefangen. Ob des Jasons ist der Genius der Statt zu sehen, welher denn selben crönet, vnnd die Fama ewiges Lob erstattet, das alda ersprießlich gemachten anfangs; vmb den Triumpfwagen schweben Etliche Engeln vnnd Ruffen zu: Viuat Aemona”. See Vilfan, op. cit. (n. 59), 85; Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 44, n. 202. 62 Steska, op. cit. (n. 32), 517–526: 526; Smolik, op. cit. (n. 27), 73–74; Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 38–39, 44. For Dolnicar’s travels in Italy, see also Luka Vidmar, Ja­nez Gregor Dolnicar v Loretu in Rimu leta 1679, Acta historiae artis Slovenica 9, 2004, 159–169; and id., Arheološki vodniki iz bibliotek operozov in iz njiho­ve bližine v Semeniški knjižnici v Ljubljani, Keria: Studia Latina et Graeca 7/2, 2005, 35–56: 38–41, 48–49. 63 Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 4 (Book 13), 9, fig. 87. See also Jože almost a decade, Koch’s depiction, even while similarly showing the con­struction of Emona, bears little resemblance to Dolnicar’s vision; not least because it belongs to a different genre: the latter is an apotheosis in the grand manner combining eponymous heroes with allegorical figures; the former is a conventional scene of a busy building site with a few classiciz­ing trimmings in the foreground. Thanks to Valvasor’s incomparable zeal for topographic documen­tation, we can also gain an idea of the appearance of one of Ljubljana’s public monuments at the time when it was co-opted to proclaim, in word and image, the distant mythic origins of Emona: the communal fountain on the city’s main square. This fountain can be seen in the separately framed smaller view of the town hall (Fig. 4) that makes up part of a large panoramic view of the Carniolan capital, likewise engraved by Trost and dedicated by Valvasor (who attached it to the comprehensive chapter on Ljubljana in Die Ehre) to the Mayor, “Chief Justice” and City Council in 1681.64 The fountain’s central pillar, which rose up from the polygonal water basin, supported a free-standing statue of Neptune, whose significance is reported to have been explained in an accompanying inscription.65 Its Kastelic, Anticna zgodovina v Valvasorjevi Slavi vojvodine Kranjske in njeni ilustratorji, in: Vita artis perennis: Ob osemdesetletnici akademika Emilijana Cevca – Festschrift Emilijan Cevc, ed. A. Klemenc, Ljubljana 2000, 315–340: 326, fig. 9; and Barbara Murovec, Graphische darstellungen der Geschichte Jasons im Lichte der Herausgeber- und Sammeltätigkeit Johann Weichard Valvasors, in this volume, pp. 259–276. For Janez Koch, see Emilijan Cevc, Ob Valvasorjevem “Prizorišcu cloveške smrti”, in: Janez Vajkard Valvasor: Prizorišce cloveške smrti v treh delih, Maribor – Novo mesto 1969, 279–319; Emilijan Cevc, J. W. Valvasor kot mentor slikarjev / J. W. Valvasor as Mentor of Painters, in: Janez Vajkard Valvasor Slovencem in Evropi, op. cit. (n. 44), 169–195, 205–224: 184–191, 215–217; Barbara Murovec, Die Zeichnungen des 17. Jahrhunderts im Herzogtum Krain: Der Künstlerkreis um den Freiherrn J. W. Valvasor (1641–1693), Barockberichte 20/21, 1998, 241–246: 244, 246; Mir­na Abaffy, Crteži i grafike u Valvasorovoj zbirci Nadbiskupije zagrebacke, in: Klovicev zbornik: Minijatura – crtež – grafika 1450–1700, ed. M. Pelc, Zagreb 2001, 187–203: 189. 64 Valvasor, Die Ehre, op. cit. (n. 45), Part 3 (Book 11), inserted between pp. 688 and 689. See also France Stelč, Valvasorjeva Ljubljana, Glasnik Muzejskega društva za Slovenijo 9, 1928, 70–98: 71–72; Reisp, op. cit. (n. 44), 117, 243, 305, n. 55; Stopar, op. cit. (n. 42), 58–59, cat. no. 6. 65 Viktor Steska, Neptunov vodnjak v Ljubljani, Zbornik za umetnostno zgo­dovino 4, 1924, 143–147; Josip Mal, Stara Ljubljana in njeni ljudje: kulturno­zgodovinski oris, Ljubljana 1957, 173–175; Gojko Zupan, Janez Khumerstainer: dva ljubljanska vodnjaka, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino, new ser. 27, 1991, 73–102: 89, n. 72; Božidar Jezernik, Zgodovina, mitologija, identiteta, in: Lju­bljana 9/7–8, 2004, 16–17. text is recorded in one of several miscellaneous notes bound together with the manuscript of Dolnicar’s Annales Urbis Labacensis.66 According to this author, the inscription stated tersely that, by decree of the senior city magistrates, Ljubljana’s superintendents of public buildings erected the statue to honour Neptune, “Tamer of the Seas”, for having (after Emona was founded) welcomed Jason back to his waters:67 Domitori Aequorum Quod Iasonem post Aemonam Conditam recepisset P(osuerunt) D(ecreto) D(ecurionum) Aedil(es) Emonen(ses) Unfortunately, the manuscript of the Annales is – to my knowledge – the sole surviving testimony to the epigraph’s material existence. For although Dolnicar briefly referred to the fountain statue of Neptune also in his Antiquitates, on that occasion he made no mention of any accom­ panying inscription, which inevitably raises doubts about its authenticity since, admittedly, there is a chance that it belonged to the same category of literary invention as the non-existent stone tablet celebrating Jason as founder of Emona.68 Nevertheless, compelling circumstantial evidence favours the view 66 Annales Vrbis Labacensis, Metropolis Inclyti Ducatűs Carnioliae das ist Jahrs-Geschichten der fürstl: haubt Stadt La˙bach Von Anno 1660, bis 1700. Continuiert von Anno 1700. bis 17(19) durch Johann Gregor Thalnitscher, von Thalberg J:V:Doc, Ljubljana, Seminary Library, Ms. 11, fol. 114v (the lemma reads: “inscriptio fontis Neptuni in foro Labaci ...”). For the Annales in general, see in particular Viktor Steska, Dolnicarjeva ljubljanska kronika od l. 1660 do l. 1718, Izvestja Muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 11, 1901, 18–32, 69–186; and id., Slike v ljubljanskih cerkvah okoli l. 1715, Izvestja Muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 12, 1902, 50–57; and Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 40–41, n. 171. 67 The text was first published by Viktor Steska, Herkul v ljubljanskem muzeju, Izvestja Muzejskega društva za Kranjsko 10, 1900, 174–179: 177. See also Stes­ka, op. cit. (n. 65), 144; Kopriva, op. cit. (n. 59), 123; Zupan, op. cit. (n. 65), 93, nn. 88, 91. Less elegantly succinct is the corresponding German epigraph on fol. 15r of the same manuscript, which reads as follows: “Neptuno dem Bezwinger des Meeres das derselbe den Preiswürdigen Helden Jason nach erbauung der Stadt Aemona, oder La˙bach Sicher begleitet und frey erhalten; auf Bevehl des Stadt-Mag[istrats] durch die Bauherrn der Stadt zugeeignet und aufgerichtet”; see Steska, op. cit. (n. 67), 177–178; Steska, op. cit. (n. 65), 144. 68 Dolnicar, Antiquitates, Ms. 7 (n. 31), p. 15: “[a]diungamus ueteribus, modernos aquaeductus qui modo Labaci exstant, et duabus fontanis, uni [sic] in publico foro locatae, alterae uero in foro antiquo erectae, quorum prima Neptuni, se­cunda Herculis statua ... accomodatae sunt ...”. that this public inscription honouring Neptune and the Argonauts was not only carved in stone and displayed next to the statue but was also set in place at a comparatively early date. A figure of Neptune appears to have been already envisaged as the fountain’s principal adornment during the preparations for the state visit of Emperor Leopold I, who came to Ljublja­na in 1660 in order to receive the hereditary oath of allegiance and homage (Ger. Erbhuldigung) from the Carniolan Provincial Estates. Neptune was initially intended to be cast in metal but was subsequently carved hast­ily from less durable wood. So as early as 1675 it had to be replaced by a more robust statue of grey local limestone executed by the sculptor Johann Khumerstainer (documented in Ljubljana between 1673 and 1687). The badly battered original of Khumerstainer’s Neptune – which remained in its intended place until the mid-eighteenth century – is today resited in a niche at the end of the corridor leading to the main library of the Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts (Fig. 6); its gilded cast copy, in turn, tops a composite modern fountain (combined from several originally disparate elements) placed next to the new wing of the Academy’s Scientific Re­search Centre (Fig. 5).69 In the period coinciding with the renovation of the Neptune foun­tain, which was in progress between 1675 and 1676, Ljubljana’s mayor was Janez Krstnik Dolnicar, who held the office for four consecutive one-year terms between 1672 and 1676.70 And since he was not only Janez Gregor Dolnicar’s father but also Janez Ludvik Schönleben’s brother-in-law, it can indeed hardly be mere coincidence that the erection of Khumerstainer’s statue in 1675 took place immediately after the publication of Aemona vindicata in 1674.71 Moreover, in Schönleben’s dedicatory letter of 1673 Ljubljana’s magistrates (headed by mayor Dolnicar) are, nota bene, praised by Schönleben expressly for their “ardor urbem ornandi aedificiorum ni-tore”. Under such circumstances, the epigraph celebrating Neptune in the special role of Jason’s numinous protector was most likely set in place, to­gether with the stone statue itself, in 1675. If so, given their shared interest 69 Steska, op. cit. (n. 65), 143–147: 144; Mal, op. cit. (n. 65), 173–175; Damjan Prelovšek, Neptune Fountain, in: Outdoor Sculpture in Ljubljana, texts by Špelca Copic, Damjan Prelovšek and Sonja Žitko, trans. Gerda Fras, Ljubljana 1991, 23, cat. no. 17; Zupan, op. cit. (n. 65), 82, figs. 33–36. For Khumerstainer’s biography, see Sergej Vrišer, Barocno kiparstvo v osrednji Sloveniji, Ljubljana 1976, 207–208; and s.a., s.v., Komerstainer, Ivan, in: Enciklopedija Hrvatske Umjetnosti, ed. Ž. Domljan, vol. 1, Zagreb 1995, 448. 70 For the biography of Janez Krstnik Dolnicar (1626–1692), see Marijan Smolik, s.v. Thalnitscher (do 1688 Dolnitscher, Dolnizher), Janez Krstnik, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, eds. A. Gspan and F. Petre, vol. 4, Ljubljana 1980, 76–77; Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 38. 71 See Zupan, op. cit. (n. 65), 89, n. 72; 96, n. 103. in propagating the Argonautic foundation myth, either Schnleben or the younger Dolnicar could have been asked by the elder Dolnicar to supply the stone carvers in charge with this short, and appositely classicizing, Latin epigraph, which may, accordingly – from the mid 1670s onwards – have been on show in one of the city’s most prominent public spaces. Even if we were to maintain, cautiously, that the inscription was merely a product of the younger Dolnicar’s fertile imagination, it would nonetheless still bear witness to the fact that the Argonautic foundation myth was keyed into an interpretation of the statue of Neptune (Fig. 6) by one of the best-known and most influential public figures of Baroque Ljubljana (Fig. 2). * * * This begs the question of whether the same interpretation could in one way or another have also affected the choice of imagery for Ljubljana’s elegant new communal fountain (Fig. 7), which – replacing the simple well head, recorded in the print of 1681 (Fig. 4) – was commissioned in 1743 from the Venetian-born sculptor Francesco Robba (1698–1757).72 Thus in 1751 Khumerstainer’s single limestone statue of Neptune (Fig. 6) yielded definitively to the three imposing bearded figures carved by Robba from the marble of Carrara (Figs. 8–10).73 72 For Robba’s biography and his oeuvre in general, see – apart from the well-il­lustrated monograph by Vera Horvat-Pintaric, Francesco Robba, Zagreb 1961, and the references to the groundbreaking recent studies by Matej Klemencic in notes 73–74, 89 – in particular also the thoroughly researched articles by Blaž Resman, Kipa franciškanskih svetnikov v Šiški – Straubova ali Robbova?, Acta historiae artis Slovenica 3, 1998, 51–71; and id., Epilog k Francescu Robbi, Acta historiae artis Slovenica 5, 2000, 167–189. For concise selective informa­tion in English, see Matej Klemencic and Stanko Kokole, Francesco Robba in beneško kiparstvo v Ljubljani / Francesco Robba and the Highlights of Venetian Baroque Sculpture in Ljubljana, exh. cat., Ljubljana 1998, 24–41; see also the proceedings of the conference Francesco Robba and the Venetian Sculpture of the Eighteenth Century: Papers from an International Symposium Ljublja­ na, 16th – 18th October 1998, ed. J. Höfler et al., Ljubljana 2000; and M[atej] K[lemencic], Francesco Robba: Venezia 1698 – Zagabria 1757, in: La scultura a Venezia da Sansovino a Canova, ed. A. Bacchi, Milano 2000, 776–777 (with updated bibliography). 73 For the Robba Fountain, see – in addition to bibliographical references in notes 72, 74–76, 89 – in particular Anton Vodnik, Gradnja Robbovega vodnjaka pred mestno hišo v Ljubljani, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino 7, 1927, 121– 138; id., Kipar Francesco Robba, Dom in svet 43, 1930, 97–110: 108–110; id., Francesco Robba: Arhivalna študija, Kronika slovenskih mest 3, 1936, 41–44, 95–98, 157–159, 226–228: 158–159, 227–228; id., Francesco Robba: Arhivalna študija, Kronika slovenskih mest 4, 1937, 25–27, 80–82, 143–147: 25–26; Hor­vat-Pintaric, op. cit. (n. 72), 28–31, 53–55, 86, cat. no. 22, figs. 59–66; Sergej As was first noted by Viktor Steska (and thereafter duly taken into account by Blaž Resman and Matej Klemencic) the customary designation of Robba’s fountain as the “Fountain of the Three Carniolan Rivers” is supported by one almost contemporary literary testimony.74 On the evi­ dence of the description of Ljubljana in the third, substantially amplified, edition of Carolus Granelli’s Topographia Germaniae Austriacae, which came out in Vienna in 1759 and was dedicated by its editor, Baron Moritz von Brabeck, to Maria Theresa – Robba’s three muscular male nudes hold­ ing the hydria-shaped water jars in their hands (Figs. 8–10) were believed to represent the rivers Sava, Krka and Ljubljanica (viz. the ancient Savus, Corcoras and Nauportus; i.e. Neo-Latin Labacus).75 Moreover, as Steska plausibly proposed in 1928 (and as Ivan Robida Vrišer, Barockplastikin Slowenien, Wien 1971, X, cat. no. 11, pls. 11–12; Matej Klemencic, Francesco Robba in beneško barocno kiparstvo v Ljubljani, phot. by M. Kambic, Ljubljana 1998, 43–44, cat. no. V/12, pls. 88–91 (with a critical appraisal of earlier scholarship and essential bibliography); see also Miklavž Komelj, Robbov vodnjak v Ljubljani, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino, new ser. 34 (1998), 206–226. 74 Viktor Steska, Pogricnikova Compendiaria descriptio metropolis Labacen-sis iz l. 1766, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino 1, 1921, 103–105: 104; Matej Klemencic, Francesco Robba in barocno kiparstvo med Rimom in Benetkami, Ph. D. diss., University of Ljubljana, Ljubljana 2000, 92, nn. 301–303. 75 [Carolus Granelli], Topographia Germaniae Austriacae, conscripta a Carolo Granelli Soc. Jesu sacerdote, novis accessionibus locupletata, Mariae The-resiae Augustae honoribus dicata a Mauritio L. B. de Brabeck, dum idem in Collegio Regio Theresiano S. J. tentamen publicum ex disciplinis philosophicis atque historicis subibat, anno sal. M. DCC. LIX. mense Septembri. Vindobonae: typis Joannis Thomae Trattner, Caes. Reg. Aulae Typographi et Bibliopolae, M. DCC. LIX., 171: “... fons elegans patrio e marmore a celebri statuario Francisco Roba effictus; e medio vasis, quod adfluentes undas sinu suo excipit praealta exsurgit trigona Pyramis, ad cujus basim singula latera stipant totidem fluvii Labacus, Savus, & Corcora [sic] Carrariensi e marmore justa viri altitudine efficti, ex urnis, & piscibus, quibus insident, copiosam aquam depromentes”. Steska, op. cit. (n. 74), 103–105, also drew attention to the description of Rob­ba’s fountain in a rare brochure, the text of which was extracted, with minor adaptations, from Brabeck’s edition of Granelli, and published in Ljubljana in 1766 by the Jesuit father Janez Krstnik Pogricnik; the full title reads: Compen­diaria metropolis Carnioliae descriptio e Topographia Germaniae Austriacae Caroli Granelli S. J. excerpta, et auditoribus oblata, dum assertiones ex uni-versa philosophia in archiducali et academico Soc. Jesu collegio Labaci anno M.DCC.LXVI. mense Augusto ... publice propugnarent ... Michael Castelliz Carniolus Labac. ... Simon Schillitz Styrus ex Fano s. Petri ... ex praelectioni-bus r.p. Joannis Baptistae Pogrietsnig Soc. Jesu Philosophiae Professoris publ. et ordin. Labaci: Typis Joannis Friderici Eger, 1766, n.p., chap. 18 [pp. 21–22]; cf. Klemencic, op. cit. (n 74), 92, n. 303. I am grateful to Matej Klemencic for drawing my attention to the editions of Granelli by Brabeck and Pogricnik and had already implied in 1910), the rivers Sava, Krka and Ljubljanica were in all probability meant to stand for the duchy’s three constituent parts: Upper, Lower, and Inner Carniola (Ger. Ober-, Inner-, and Unterkrain; Slov. Gorenjska, Dolenjska, Notranjska).76 After all, such a tripartite con-cetto would be especially appropriate in the wake of Maria Theresa’s far-reaching administrative reforms, which were executed in the hereditary Habsburg lands between 1747 and 1749. In 1748 Carniola was divided at a local level into three “circles” or districts (Ger. Kreis; Slov. kresija), each of which was headed by a district chief (Ger. Kreishauptmann) who was at first a local landowner but over time became a trained bureaucrat.77 Char­acteristically, the establishment of the Kreise of Upper, Inner and Lower Carniola and the appointment of their respective Hauptmänner was sin­gled out as the only momentous event of the year 1748 in a handwritten continuation (covering the period between 1716 and 1768) appended to one of the obviously much-consulted copies of Epitome chronologica of 1714, the one tiny monograph that Janez Gregor Dolnicar managed to see through the press during his lifetime.78 Viewed from this angle, it might seem, then, an obvious conclusion for so engagingly discussing with me on many occasions the problems concern­ing the iconographic interpretation of Robba’s fountain. 76 See Viktor Steska, Sprehod po Ljubljani, Ljubljana 1928, 11; Johann Robida, Laibach: Illustrierter Wegweiser durch die Landeshauptstadt von Krain, Lai­ bach 1910, 18; for this and further references regarding various interpretations of the Robba fountain, see in particular Klemencic, op. cit. (n. 73), 44; and id., op. cit. (n. 74), 92–93. 77 See, for example, Granelli, ed. Brabeck, op. cit. (n. 75), 153; and see also Jože Žontar, et al., Die Verwaltung der Steiermark, Kärntens, Krains und des Küsten­landes 1747/48 bis 1848, in: Handbücher und Karten zur Verwaltungsstruktur in den Ländern, Kärnten, Krain, Küstenland und Steiermark bis zum Jahre 1918, ed. J. Žontar, Graz 1988, 31–49: 32; and Sergij Vilfan, Pravna zgodovina Slovencev, Ljubljana 1996, 376. 78 [Joannes Gregorius Thalnitscher], Epitome chronologica, Continens Res Memo-rabiles, Nobilis, & Antiquissimae Urbis Labacensis, Metropolis Inclyti Ducatűs Carnioliae. Ab Orbe condito, usque ad annum Christi, M. DCC. IV. Dedicata Honoribus Nobilis, ac Eruditae Academiae. Operosorum Labacensium. Ex probatis Authoribus, & propriâ Scientia collecta. Authore Joanne Gregorio ŕ Thalberg Labacensi, Inter Academicos Operosos Dicto Provido. Anno ŕ partu Virginis M. D. CC. XIV. Aemonae conditae 2935. Labaci: Formis J. G. M. Inc. Prov. Carn. Typ. [1714], Ljubljana, National Museum of Slovenia (Narodni muzej Slovenije), shelfmark 1698, n. p.: “1748. Divisa est Carniolia in circulos tres, inferiorem, interiorem et superiorem, quorum unicuique praeficitur suus circuli Capitaneus (Kreishauptmann) ...”. This example of the Epitome was (in 1880) acquired by the Regional Museum of Carniola (now National Museum of Slovenia) as part of the library of Baron Jožef Kalasanc Erberg (1771–1843); see Smolik, op. cit. (n. 27), 75. that by the mid-eighteenth century the notional association of Ljubljana’s main public fountain with the cherished foundation myth of Emona had given way on the very same spot to a novel iconographic conceit celebrat­ing the Duchy of Carniola as a whole rather than glorifying the city of Ljubljana alone. Still, the fact remains that Robba signed the contract for his fountain as early as 4 July 1743, and that at that juncture the three marble figures in question were referred to merely as “images with their ‘ensigns’” (“fig­uren mit ihren Signis”).79 Moreover, they were already recorded as almost finished on 2 May 1749.80 And this, in turn, does indeed leave some room for speculation that their original meaning might conceivably have dif­ fered from the meaning assigned to them, so far as we know, for the first time in 1759. In the following paragraphs I will argue that at the outset the Jasonic foundation myth may have underlain the imagery of Robba’s fountain af­ter all. It has often been stressed that the identification of particular figures with one of the three rivers (namely, the Sava, Ljubljanica and Krka) speci­fied in Brabeck’s edition of Granelli’s Topographia must remain a matter of conjecture for the lack of sufficently distinctive attributes. On the face of it, the “ensigns” that first leap to the eye are the water jars; however, these are of identical shape and therefore only generically mark out each of the three human figures as a male aquatic deity. In consequence, the opportunity to distinguish them by name would seem to lie, rather, in the three water-spouting animals placed prominently at the feet of the fig­ures. These fall into two distinct categories: a pair of (very similar, but not identical) stylized fish with elongated beak-like snouts (perhaps represent­ing freshwater pikes) on one side (Figs. 8, 9) and a dolphin, whose scaly tail coils up alongside the imposing figure’s right thigh while it is being pressed down by its left foot, on the other side (Fig. 10). In general terms, the outward appearances of all three figures do in­deed seem to tally neatly with the conventional iconography of fluvial deities.81 And, regardless of the debatable point of which species they 79 Klemencic, op. cit. (n. 73), 44; id., op. cit. (n. 74), 92, 170, doc. no. 24: “... die drey in vollkhomener und proportionirter Lebens gressn von 5. Schuech hoch bestehend figuren mit ihren Signis und postamenten von genuesser Marmel- stein ...”. 80 Klemencic, op. cit. (n. 73), 43; id., op. cit. (n. 74), 86–87. 81 See, for example, Vincenzo Cartari, Le imagini de i dei de gli antichi, eds. G. Auzzas, F. Martignago, M. Pastore Stocchi, and P. Rigo, Vicenza 1996, 234: “[e]rano i fiumi fatti in forma di uomo con barba e con capelli lunghi ...; et alle volte ancora, e per lo piů, si appoggia sopra una grande urna che versa acqua ...”. Moreover, although river gods are mostly described and visualized as reclining represent, the two freshwater fish seem fully consistent with the relevant figures’ classification as river gods (Figs. 8, 9). Yet an unequivocal des­ignation of the third bearded man (Fig. 10) – who is clearly set apart from the rest by the presence of a marine mamal – as a mere river god would automatically imply that the sculptor committed (and his patrons toler­ ated) a manifest breach of one of the fundamental rules of iconographic decorum. Depending on the context, in Renaissance and Baroque imagery dolphins might, needless to say, carry many different meanings, but they were clearly deemed unsuitable as connotative markings for the charac­terization of personified rivers. Thus, for example, none of the exemplary instructions in Cesare Ripa’s immensely popular Iconologia for the de­ piction of river gods advocates (or even mentions) a dolphin (or, for that matter, any other sea creature).82 In contrast, Ripa expressly recommends placing a dolphin under a foot of the personified sea which he, sugges­tively, envisages in the form of an awesome old man with long hair and an abundant, dishevelled beard, naked except for a piece of wind-blown cloth covering his front.83 Could not, then, the figure by Robba that is distin­ guished by the presence of the dolphin (Fig. 10) stand for the salty waters of the sea rather than the fresh water of one of Carniola’s rivers? Moreover, – iconographically no less than conceptually – it is but a small step to make from the male personification denoting the sea to the traditional anthropomorphic appearance of the Olympian god whose very name is, needless to say, often used metaphorically by poets in order to signify sea water: Neptune (alias Poseidon). And in fact – in second place to the trident – the dolphin is ubiquitously attested as a customary distin- figures, Cartari alsoconcedes the appropriateness of a seated river god, citing (in translation) Statius’s description of Inachus: “sedendo appoggia la sinistra all’urna / Che prona largamente l’acque versa”; cf. Statius, Thebais 2. 218: “in laeuum prona nixus sedet Inachus urna”. 82 [Cesare Ripa], Iconologia, overo Descrittione di diverse Imagini cauate dall’an­tichitŕ, & di propria inuentione, Trouate, & dichiarate da Cesare Ripa Perugi-no. In Roma: Appresso Lepido Facij. M.DC.III [facsimile reprint: Hildesheim – Zürich – New York 2000], 156–162. 83 Ripa, op. cit. (n. 82), 354: “MARE. Vn vecchio con crini longhi, barba folta, inordinata, sarŕ nudo, & orrido, ma ŕ torno si vedrŕ cortina, che suolazzando gli copra le parti dinanzi, sotto vn piede si vedrŕ un delfino, e sotto l’altro vna conchiglia marina, ...”. In the ensuing explication of the image Ripa justifies the choice of the primary attributes by explaining that both the shell and the dol­ phin have been selected for the same reason: that they are animals that are born and live in the sea: “[i]l medesimo effetto fa il delfino, & la conchiglia, essendo animali, che si generano, & viuono in questo largo campo”. guishing mark of Neptune’s sculptural images in both the classical and early-modern periods.84 A short digression may be in order to bring home this point. One literary testimony, which in this regard clearly became, from the mid six­teenth century onwards, a locus classicus, was Hyginus’s re-telling of the catasterismic myth of how a dolphin, having persuaded Amphitrite to be­come Neptune’s bride, was, by the grateful god, “placed ... among the constellations.” “More than this,” (writes Hyginus) “we see that those who make statues of Neptune place a dolphin either in his hand or beneath his foot – a thing they think will please the god especially.”85 This passage is not only quoted in an apposite context in Lilio Gregorio Giraldi’s De deis gentium varia et multiplex historia (which first appeared in print in 1548): it also became impressed on the minds of Renaissance and Baroque art­ ists (and of their literate audiences) thanks to Vincenzo Cartari’s widely used Immagini de i dei de gli antichi (first published in 1556).86 In fact, while Hyginus merely recalled the practice, common in his day, of “those who make statues of Neptune”, Cartari more forcefully asserted that the Ancients put a dolphin either in his hand or under his foot in every single statue of this god. Throughout Europe, Cartari’s readers – whether looking for guidance on the various possible meanings of dolphins or seeking suitable acces­ sories for a representation of Neptune – would more likely than not have 84 Erika Simon and Gerhard Bauchhenss, s.v. Neptunus, in: Lexicon Iconographi-cum Mythologiae Classicae, vol. 7/1, Zürich – München 1994, 483–500: 485– 486, nos. 1–14, 25; ibid., vol. 7/2, pls. 379–380; The Oxford Guide to Classical Mythology in the Arts, 1300–1990s, eds. J. Davidson Reid and C. Rohmann, vol. 2, New York – Oxford 1993, 914–920 (s.v. Poseidon); and see also Luba Freedman, Cinquecento Mythographic Descriptions of Neptune, International Journal of the Classical Tradition 2/1, 1995, 44–53; ead., Neptune in Classical and Renaissance Visual Art, International Journal of the Classical Tradition 2/2, 1995, 219–237. 85 Hyginus, Poetica astronomica 2.17: “[p]ro quo facto inter sidera Delphini ef­figiem collocavit. Et hoc amplius. Qui Neptuno simulacra faciunt, delphinum aut in manu, aut sub pede eius constituere videmus; quod Neptuno gratissimum esse arbitrantur”. For the English translation, see The Myths of Hyginus, ed. and trans. M. Grant, Lawrence, Kansas 1960. 86 Vincenzo Cartari, op. cit. (n. 81), 223. See also Caterina Volpi, Le immagini de­gli dči di Vincenzo Cartari, Roma 1996, 276, n. 30; cf. [Lilio Gregorio Giraldi], De Deis Gentium varia et multiplex historia: in qua simul de eorum imaginib. et cognominib. agitur, vbi plurima etia[m] hactenus multis ignota explicantur, et pleraque clarius tractantur, Lilio Gregorio Gyraldo Ferrariensi Auctore. Basileae: Per Ioannem Oporinum, [1548], 216. It may be worth mentioning that two equally explicit references to cult statues of Neptune – which, interestingly, were not cited by Giraldi and Cartari – come up in Pausanias’s Description of Greece 2.35.1 and 10.36.8. come across the passage: “leggesi anco che furono cari i delfini piů di tutti gli altri pesci a Nettuno, onde Igino scrive che tutte le sue statoe ne met-tevano una in mano, ovvero sotto un piede ...”.87 And Carniolan educated elites were clearly no exception: suffice it to recall that Robba’s exact con­temporary, Baron Maximilian Anton Ignaz von Taufferer (1698–1758), possessed Lorenzo Pignoria’s revised and amplified edition of Cartari’s Immagini that had appeared in Venice in 1647.88 In this light, I find it hard to believe that – around 1743 – in the mind of the Venetian sculptor no less than in the minds of his clients in Ljublja­ na – a dolphin was not bound to trigger the long-established connotational link to Neptune.89 I therefore wish also to reconsider the significance of the figure’s remaining attribute. Apart from setting one foot on the back of a dolphin and holding a water jar with his right arm, the aquatic god in question (Fig. 10) originally also held, in his raised left hand, a sceptre (of which unfortunately only the lower end of the handle survives). His counterpart on the left carries, however, a standard attribute of personified rivers, the cornucopia (Fig. 9), while the remaining, third companion holds a vase with both hands (Fig. 8). Given the fact that – like his brothers Jupiter and Pluto – Neptune was a sovereign ruler over his alloted part of the Universe, in his case regal insignia would not be out of place. After all, in the passage cited above, Cartari (at this juncture invoking the authority of Aelian) characterizes 87 Cartari, op. cit. (n. 81), 223. 88 [Vicenzo Cartari], Imagini delli dei de gl’antichi di Vincenzo Cartari Reggia-no. Ridotte da capo ŕ piedi alle loro reali, & et non piů per l’adietro osseru-ate somiglianze. Cauate da’Marmi, Bronzi, Medaglie, Gioie, & altre memorie antiche; con esquisito studio, & particolare diligenza da Lorenzo Pignoria Pa-doano ... . In Venetia: Presso il Tomasini MDCXLVII, 136; across the title-page of the soft-cover example in the National and University Library of Slovenia, Ljubljana (shelfmark 2051 I.R.a.) the former owner wrote: “Ex libris Maximil­iani L[iberi] B[aronis] de Taufrer”. For Tauferer, see Alfonz Gspan, Taufferer (Taufrer), Slovenski biografski leksikon, eds. A. Gspan, J. Munda and F. Petre, vol. 4, Ljubljana 1991, 14–18: 16. 89 One might conceivably seek to downplay the connotative value of the dolphin’s appearance on the Robba Fountain by arguing that, rather than serving as a defining attribute, the marine mammal constituted – along with the obelisk and the shape of the raised basin – merely a revealing proof of Robba’s indebted­ ness to one of his sources of inspiration: Filippo Barigoni’s Fountain (1711) in the Piazza della Rotonda. See Matej Klemencic, Scultori veneti nel Settecento a Lubiana, in: Arte, storia, cultura e musica in Friuli nell’etŕ del Tiepolo, eds. C. Furlan and G. Pavanello, Udine 1998, 107–115: 11; id., op. cit. (n. 73), 42–43, figs. 19–20; and id., op. cit. (n. 74), 89–90. Yet, relegating the most conspicuous creatures shown on the fountain’s base to mere decoration seems to run counter to the care with which meaningful details (the “signa”) were apparently selected according to the original contract with the sculptor (see above, note 79). Neptune’s devoted dolphin as a king-like creature of the sea (equivalent to a lion on land and an eagle in the air).90 It may therefore not be too incau­tious to suppose that the sceptre was chosen as a fitting substitute for the more distinctive trident.91 Against this background, there is, then, a real chance in my opinion that Robba initially intended (and his patrons asked him) to carve an im­age of Neptune accompanied by two river gods, and that the “fluvial read­ing” of all three figures, first attested in 1759, gained the upper hand only ex post facto. But if so, it would also follow that Robba’s Neptune (Fig. 10), like his predecessor carved for the very same site by Khumerstainer (Fig. 6), was, more likely than not, intended to allude to the mythic foundation of Carniola’s capital. And on this assumption, for the reason of internal con­ sistency, the presence of the pair of river gods (Figs. 8, 9) would urgently call for an explanation in terms of the celebration of the journey of Jason and his companions. It may thus not be mere coincidence that two of the three rivers claimed to have been represented on the fountain in Brabeck’s edition of Granelli did in fact play their prominent part in, literally, bringing the Argonauts to the Plain of Ljubljana. As stated at the outset of this paper, Sozomen writes only that the Argonauts “sailed through some of the riv­ers there, and so gained the shores of Italy”, while Zosimus merely re­ports that they rowed up Danube (Ister) “until they came nearer to the sea”. Not surprisingly, therefore, Schönleben called on his readers to glean the names of the other rivers from the particularly informative passage in Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis historia that reads:92 90 Cartari, op. cit. (n. 81), 223: “... perché secondo Eliano, cosě sono i delfini re de i pesci come sono i lioni delle fere e le aquile de gli uccelli ...”; cf. Aelian, De natura animalium 15.17: “[n]aturalis quaedam communitas et occulta affinitas leoni est cum delphino; non ex ea parte solum, quod uterque imperat, ille qui­dem terrenis bestiis, hic vero aequoreis ...”. 91 See, for example, Natale Conti’s Mythologiae 2.8: “... tridens ... quem habet Neptunus pro sceptro ...”; [Natalis Comes], Natalis Comitis Mythologiae sive explicationis fabularum libri decem. Patavii: apud Petrumpaulum Tozzium, 1616, 88. 92 Pliny the Elder, Naturalis historia 3.128: “[u]meris travectam Alpes diligentio-res tradunt, subisse autem Histro, dein Savo, dein Nauporto, cui nomen ex ea causa est inter Emonam Alpesque exorienti”. For the English translation, see Pliny, Natural History, trans. H. Rackham, London – Cambridge, Mass. 1947, vol. 2, 95. Cf. Schönleben, Aemona vindicata, op. cit. (n. 17), 3; and id., Carnio­lia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 1, 46: “[e]t ne dubites, quod non alium locum adversis fluminibus accesserit Jason quam eum, in quo hodie Labacum visitur, ex Plinio supple nomina fluviorum, quibus adversis navigavit. Ait enim ille: subisse ... exorienti”. More careful writers say that the Argo was portaged on men’s shoul­ders across the Alps, but that she had come up the Ister and then the Savus and then the Nauportus, a stream rising between Emona and the Alps, that has got its name from this occurrence. On Pliny’s authority one could, then, argue that the choice of the river gods Nauportus and Savus was motivated not least also by their potential figuratively to call to the viewer’s mind a segment of the Argonauts’ es­cape route. By combining the tale that the ship Argo came up the rivers Sava and its tributary Ljubljanica (“subisse ... Savo, dein Nauporto”) with the benevolent role of Jason’s protector in which Neptune was cast by the inscription reported by Dolnicar, precisely that part of the epic journey that led to Emona’s foundation and its immediate aftermath would be re­counted by evoking consecutively the fresh water lanes within Carniola (Figs. 8, 9) and the salt waters of the upper Adriatic sea (Fig. 10).93 All in all, it would be, then, imprudent and premature to assume that, when, in the early 1740s, they were deliberating over a thematically appo­site “programme” for the new fountain, Robba and his patrons could sim­ply have passed over the tale of the Argonauts. There is, last but not least, ample evidence that it was firmly ingrained in the collective conscience of the literate urban elites. The myth of Emona’s foundation by Jason and the Argonauts never sank into oblivion in the course of the eighteenth century. Not only can we reasonably surmise that its memory was kept alive and well by the two seminal but ponderous books published before 1700 – Schönleben’s Carni­olia and, above all, Valvasor’s Die Ehre – which frequently crop up even in the modest libraries of Carniolan nobility.94 It was also accorded a place of honour in pocket compendia, such as Dolnicar’s handy Epitome, which not only opens with two entries referring, respectively, to Jason’s arrival and departure,95 but also concludes with a solemn valediction auguring immor­tal glory to Ljubljana: “long live the august daughter of Jason, the peaceful resting place of the Argonauts ...”.96 And, concomitantly, throughout the 93 Pliny the Elder, Naturalis historia 3.128: “... Argo navis … in mare Hadriaticum descendit non procul Tergeste ...”; Pliny, Natural History, op. cit. (n. 92), vol. 2, 95. 94 See Marko Štuhec, Rdeca postelja, šcurki in solze vdove Prešeren, Ljubljana 1995, 102–103; and id., O kranjskem plemstvu v casu Almanachovega de­lovanja na Kranjskem, in: Almanach in slikarstvo druge polovice 17. stoletja na Kranjskem, eds. B. Murovec, M. Klemencic and M. Brešcak, Ljubljana 2005, 97–121, 108. 95 Dolnicar, Epitome, op. cit. (n. 78), A2. Needless to say, both entries are ulti­mately based on Schnleben, Carniolia, op. cit. (n. 23), Part 2, 31–32, 35. 96 Dolnicar, Epitome (n. 78), 107: “[p]ostremň nil superest, nisi ut pro coronide vota addamus pro immortalitate, Vive Augusta Jasonis filia, Argonautarum quies, first half of the eighteenth century, the Jasonic foundation myth retained its allure not just in local publications. Characteristically, particular atten­ tion was also allotted to it in all editions of the Topographia Germaniae Austriacae published after 1701 (including the extract printed in Ljubljana in 1766 as the Compendiaria metropolis Carnioliae descriptio).97 Perhaps most remarkably, even Linhart, the acknowledged spiritus agens of the Slovenian Enlightenment, declared as late as 1788 that “those who wished to eliminate the story of the Argonauts from the flow of events that actu­ally happened could, on a similar basis, have dismissed the entire early history of humanity ...”.98 In any event, however, the viability of a specifically Argonautic reading of the original concetto hidden behind the imagery of the Robba fountain hinges on the “dolphin-based identification” of Neptune (Fig. 10), which I have above sought to uphold by citing standard mythographic text­books of the period. Yet, needless to say, the inferential force of this ma­rine mamal’s presence is not only indicated by abundant textual evidence but is also corroborated by actual Renaissance and Baroque images of the god stamping on a dolphin.99 Episcopats sedes, Principum regia, Pietatis fautrix Justitiae solium, musarum Athenaeum, & deliciarum pyropus. Quam divina bonitas jugi tutelarium urbis patrocinio aeternum salvam, & incolumem servet. FINIS.” See also Lavric, op. cit. (n. 27), 37. 97 [Carolus Granelli], Germania Austriaca, seu Topographia Omnium Germaniae Provinciarum, augustissimae domui Austriacae Haereditario Jure subjecta-rum ... Studio et Labore Cujusdam Societatis Jesu Sacerdotis. Viennae Austri­ ae: sumptibus Joannis Baptistae Schönwetter, Bibliopolae Universitatis, Anno 1701, 74; and see also Granelli, ed. Brabeck, op. cit. (n. 75), 163; Granelli, ed. Pogricnik, op. cit. (n. 75), chap. 7. The attention allotted to the Argonautic myth in this text was already noted by Steska, op. cit. (n. 74), 104–105. 98 Linhart, op. cit. (n. 50), 15: “[e]s war dieß der berühmte Argonautenzug. ... Die, [die] ihn von der Reihe wirklicher Begebenheiten ausschließen wollen, können eben so leicht die ganze älteste Geschichte verwerfen”. See also Jaroslav Šašel, Pripombe k prvi knjigi Linhartovega Poskusa, in: Anton Linhart, Poskus zgo­ dovine Kranjske in ostalih dežel južnih Slovanov Avstrije 1 in 2, Ljubljana 1981, 351–374: 356. 99 Remarkably, in later editions of his Immagini, Cartari refers to a contemporary sculptural example: Jacopo Sansovino’s colossal statue placed in 1567, standing upright, on the upper landing of the Scala dei Giganti of the Doge’s Palace (pre­sumably itself well known to the Venetian-born and Venetian-trained Frances­co Robba), which is explicitly mentioned as a case in point for the appearence of a dolphin at the deity’s feet. Cartari, op. cit. (n. 81), 223: “... onde Igino scrive, che a tutte le sue statoe ne mettevano uno in mano, overo sotto un piede, come anco si vede a quella posta sů in cima la scala che va nel Palagio a Venezia ...”. For Sansovino’s statue, see Bruce Boucher, The Sculpture of Jacopo Sansovino, New Haven 1991, vol. 1, 136–141; vol. 2, cat. no. 35. I wish – from among countless examples – to draw attention to merely one case in point: the grisaille showing a statue of Neptune in the Palazzo Fava in Bologna, painted by Annibale, Agostino and Ludovico Carracci in 1584.100 The most conspicuous attribute of Carracci’s imagined marble statue is the large stylized dolphin, placed precisely where it would please attentive readers of Cartari’s Immagini – at and underneath the god’s feet (Fig. 11). Of course, in the final analysis, the existence of an “Argonautic sub­text” underlying the imagery of Robba’s fountain tentatively proposed here must remain a hypothesis. But to me this hypothesis seems at least as intriguing as the enticing possibility that the frescoes in the Palazzo Fava – which, notably, recount the story of Jason – had (already more than half a century earlier) attracted the attention of the two non-Italian “Accademici gelati”, who were among the foremost proponents and propagators of the Jasonic foundation myth of Emona – Janez Gregor Dolnicar (Fig. 2) and Janez Ludvik Schönleben (Fig. 3). 100 See, most recently, Stephen J. Campbell, The Carracci, Visual Narrative and Heroic Poetry after Ariosto: The ‘Story of Jason’ in Palazzo Fava, Word & Im­age 18/3, 2002, 210–230: 215, 227, fig. 6. See also Giovanna Perini, Il fregio con le storie di Giasone dipinto dai Carracci a Palazzo Fava, in this volume, pp. 189–211 (with further bibliographical references). Appendix [Jurij Andrej Gladic], Relatio Historico-Poetica de antiquitate Labacensi atque de Notabilibus Memorijs Carnioliae praesertim de Noua Cathe-drali Ecclesia S. Nicolai Labaci, Ljubljana, Arhiv Republike Slovenije, AS 1001 [Priv A VIII. SCHÖNLEBEN DR. J. L.], unpaginated, st. 4–10 [fols. 1r–1v]. 4 Sed ne uetustas taceam Antiquitatis Notas: Lubebit mente condita primitus ennarrare. Ne lateat antiquitas Quâ urbs Nobilitatur, Exordiar ŕ Jasone Aemonae conditore. 5 Nauportus iste testis est, Qui Argonautas vexit, Est situs, suntque rudera, sunt alpiumque juga. Sunt & scriptores classici Omni fide notati, Labacum quondam nomine Aemona nuncupatum. 6 Annos agebat bis mille: Atque bis quadringentos; Unum supra trigesimum, Hanc mundi post facturam. Ast, ante Christum genitum, Mille cum ternis binnis [sic] Quo Jason huc appullerat Ad Colchos profecturus. 7 Conspectâ inde planicie Camporumque nitore, Prolixum collem suspicit, Nauportum profluentem, Nemus, & prata virida, Salubritatem Coeli. Hic sitam volo Aemonam Aiebat Jason Olim. 8 Jecit tum primum lapidem Ubi Teutonum Campus, Quadratam tulit speciem More Jerusalemis, Turritis cincta machinis, Quibus hostes arceret, Protracta ad ripam fluminis, Ut fundamenta docent. 9 Ergo oreuit et floruit Hoc fundatore Aemona, Donec totam subuerteret Tyrannus Rex Hunnorum. Qui ferro, flamma et vulnere Mortalia deleuit, Ac simul almae proterit Vetus Aemonae Nomen. 10 Haec quŕm fuit urbs inclyta Vestigia si cernis, Quam vasta, quámque Nobilis, Quŕm clara, Luculenta, Concludes tecum tacitč Heu me! quŕm citň perit, Digna perenni nomine: Juuat tamen stetisse. Fig. 1. J. v.d. Berg, after anonymous draftsman, Janez Ludvik Schleben, 1676, Ljubljana, National Museum of Slovenia, inv. no. 3820 (Umetnost XVII. stoletja na Slovenskem I., exh. cat., Ljubljana 1968, 236, pl. 88). Fig. 3. A. Trost, after J. Koch, The Argonauts Constructing the Walls of Emona, 1689 (Johann Weichard Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain, Laybach – Nürnberg 1689, Part 4 (Book 13), 9, fig. 87). Fig. 4. A. Trost, after J. W. Valvasor(?), The Town Hall of Ljubljana and Its Sur­roundings, 1681 (Johann Weichard Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain, Laybach – Nürnberg 1689, Part 3 (Book 11), between 688 and 689). Fig. 5. J. Khumerstainer, The Statue of Neptune from the Communal Fountain, 1675 (before restoration), Ljubljana, Gosposka ulica 13 (archive photo, ZRC SAZU). Fig. 6. J. Khumerstainer, The Statue of Neptune,1675(afterrestoration), Ljubljana, Slovenian Academy of Sciences and Arts, Central Library, lobby(Foto:MarkoZaplatil). Fig. 7. F. Robba, Communal Fountain, 1743–1751, Ljubljana, Mestni trg (Matej Klemencic – Photo: Miran Kambic, Francesco Robba in beneško barocno kipar­stvo v Ljubljani, Ljubljana 1998, 88). Fig. 8. F. Robba, Communal Fountain, detail, 1743–1751, Ljubljana, Mestni trg (Matej Klemencic – Photo: Miran Kambic, Francesco Robba in beneško barocno kiparstvo v Ljubljani, Ljubljana 1998, 89). Fig. 9. F. Robba, Communal Fountain, detail, 1743–1751, Ljubljana, Mestni trg (Matej Klemencic – Photo: Miran Kambic, Francesco Robba in beneško barocno kiparstvo v Ljubljani, Ljubljana 1998, 90). Neptune, c. 1584, Bologna, Palazzo Fava (Photo: Giovanna Perini). Nekaj ljubljanskih priredb in preobrazb zgodbe o argonavtih v 17. in 18. stoletju: od besed k podobam POVZETEK Clanek se osredotoca na izbor kulturno- in umetnostnozgodovinsko po­sebno mikavnih priredb bajke o ustanovitvi Emone, rimske predhodnice današnje Ljubljane. V tretji cetrtini 17. stoletja so sicer zelo skopa price­vanja dveh poznoanticnih piscev, Sozomena (1,6,5) in Zosima (5,29,2–3), o nedvomno precej starejšem izrocilu, da Emona svoje rojstvo dolguje Jazonu in argonavtom, pri humanisticno izobraženi urbani eliti naletela na posebno plodna tla, pri cemer je kljucno vlogo odigral teolog, retor in erudit evropskega formata Janez Ludvik Schönleben (1618–1681). Zlasti zgovorno to potrjujejo Schönlebnov polemicni traktat Aemona vindicata, sive Labaco Metropoli Carnioliae vetus Aemonae nomen jure assertum (1674) in ustrezni odlomki v temeljnem delu latinskega barocnega zgo­dovinopisja na Kranjskem Carniolia antiqua et nova (1680–1681). Vse­kakor so prav na Schönlebnovih ucenih razpravah temeljila tudi poznejša prizadevanja Janeza Vajkarda Valvasorja (1641–1693), Janeza Gregorja Dolnicarja (1655–1719) in Jurija Andreja Gladica (1659–1725), da bi argo­navtsko sago s cim ucinkovitejšimi govorniškimi sredstvi trdno in trajno usidrali v zavesti svojih sodobnikov. O tem nas nazorno preprica primer-jalna analiza ustreznih mest v Valvasorjevi Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain (1689) s prvo razlicico Dolnicarjeve, rokopisno izpricane, a nikoli natisnjene razprave o ljubljanskih starožitnostih Antiquitates Urbis La-bacensis (1693) in z doslej neznanim odlomkom Gladiceve verzificirane cerkvene zgodovine »stare in nove Kranjske« Vetus et Nova Carnioliae Ecclesiastica memoria; ta novoodkriti slavospev Emoni in argonavtom, ki ga sestavlja sedem osemvrsticnih kitic, je v celoti objavljen v prilogi na str. 249. Pricujoca študija posebej poudarja pomen Dolnicarjevega, v strokovni literaturi že doslej veckrat omenjenega, posluha za vsa sredstva likovnega izražanja in ponazarjanja, ki ga je uspelo dodatno osvetliti z identifikacijo nekaterih izjemno bogato ilustriranih knjižnih izdaj, ki jih je nedvomno imel pred seboj pri pisanju svojih spisov. Med avtorji, ki jih Dolnicar izrecno navaja tudi po imenu, naletimo na takrat zelo cislana imena poznorenesancnega in barocnega starinoslovja, kot so Guillaume Du Choul (ok. 1496–1560), Pietro Aringhi (1600–1676) in Charles Patin (1633–1693). Torej je povsem logicno, da si je prav Dolnicar med prvimi prizadeval, da v Ljubljani argonavtov ne bi slavili zgolj v besedi, ampak bi jih ustrezno pocastili tudi v podobi. Že v svojem mladostnem spisu Curia Labacensis Urbis Metropolis Ducatus Carnioliae (1679/1680) je na primer predlagal, da bi stropna slika, ki bi ovekovecila Jazona in ar­ gonavte, tvorila jedro ikonografskega programa osrednje dvorane v novi (a v tej obliki nikoli izvedeni) ljubljanski mestni hiši. Še prej kot Curia Labacensis pa bi utegnil nastati izvirnik neohranjenega latinskega napisa, o katerem Dolnicar v beležki, ki se je ohranila skupaj z rokopisom Anna-les Urbis Labacensis, trdi, da je krasil mestni vodnjak pred Magistratom. Napis se je nanašal na še ohranjeno soho Neptuna, ki jo je leta 1675 za mestni vodnjak izklesal Janez Khumerstainer, saj se je glasil: »[Neptunu,] krotilcu morij, ker je po ustanovitvi Emone sprejel Jazona. Postavili so po obcinskem sklepu ljubljanski stavbni odborniki.« (Prev. S. Kopriva) Kot se lahko prepricamo ne le ob branju Dolnicarjeve knjižice Epitome chro­nologica (1714), ampak tudi še Linhartovega Poskusa zgodovine Kranjske in ostalih dežel južnih Slovanov Avstrije (1788), v 18. stoletju zanimanje za legendo o ustanovitvi Emone še zdalec ni ponehalo. Zato bi se zdelo nena­vadno, ce se elegantni novi mestni vodnjak Francesca Robbe (1698–1757), ki se mu je Khumerstainerjev okorni Neptun moral umakniti leta 1751, ne bi prav v nicemer vec vsebinsko naslonil na priljubljeno domaco razlici-co bajke o argonavtih. Opirajoc se na podrobnejšo ikonografsko analizo, avtor v zakljucnem delu svoje študije predstavlja hipotezo, da je bil eden izmed treh Robbovih bradatih moških likov, ki jih pogodba s kiparjem iz leta 1743 opisuje zgolj kot »figure z atributi« (»figuren mit ihren Signis«), spocetka zasnovan v podobi Neptuna z delfinom pri nogah in z žezlom v dvignjeni roki, preostali figuri pa sta bili zamišljeni kot spremljajoci recni božanstvi Savus in Nauportus, ki poosebljata Savo in Ljubljanico. Skupni imenovalec, ki bi to trojico res smiselno spojil v konceptualno premišljeno celoto, bi bil mit o ustanovitvi Emone. Kot izrecno piše v barocni dobi v zvezi z lokacijo Emone vedno znova citirani Plinij Starejši (Naturalis historia 3, 128) sta namrec do Vrhnike ladjo Argo ponesli prav Sava in Ljubljanica; potem ko so jo Jazon in tovariši »na ramenih prenesli« cez Kras, pa je blizu Trsta varno vplula v Jadransko morje. Sodec po pri Dol­nicarju izpricanem napisu, je prav morje, v katero je Argo ponovno vplula po ustanovitvi mesta (»post Aemonam conditam«), na isti lokaciji desetle­tja pred nastankom Robbovega vodnjaka poosebljal že Khumerstainerjev Neptun. Na miticno izrocilo o argonavtih oprta alternativna razlaga figu­ralnega okrasa Robbovega vodnjaka namiguje na možnost, da se je poi-stovetenje vseh treh iz kararskega marmorja izklesanih vodnih božanstev s kranjskimi rekami uveljavilo šele potem, ko so bili kipi vsaj deloma že opremljeni s prvotno predvidenimi atributi; vemo namrec, da so bile figu­re tako rekoc gotove maja 1749. Pri iskanju razlogov za delno spremembo ikonografskega »programa« v obdobju, ki je preteklo med prvo zamislijo in koncno izvedbo vodnjaka, bi zato veljalo upoštevati tudi dejstvo, da so Gorenjska, Notranjska in Dolenjska, ki jih po ustaljeni razlagi na Robbo­vem vodnjaku zastopajo reke Sava, Ljubljanica in Krka, leta 1748 dobile nov pomen v okviru terezijanskih upravnih reform. Prav po Gorenjski, Notranjski in Dolenjski so takrat poimenovali tri deželnoknežja oblastva (t. i. kresije) z lastnimi okrožnimi glavarji. Morda torej ni le nakljucje, da Robbov vodnjak kot »Vodnjak treh kranjskih rek« prvic razlaga dopol­njena Topographia Germaniae Austriacae iz leta 1759, ki jo je na osnovi prvotnega besedila Carla Granellija predelal in priredil baron Moritz von Brabeck in jo posvetil prav Mariji Tereziji. Graphische Darstellungen der Geschichte Jasons im Lichte der Herausgeber- und Sammeltätigkeit Johann Weichard Valvasors BARBARA MUROVEC Die Erforschung der Tätigkeit, der Rolle und Bedeutung Johann Weichard Valvasors (slow. Janez Vajkard Valvasor, 1641–1693) ist eines der zen-tralen Themen der slowenischen Kulturgeschichte des 17. Jahrhunderts,1 trotzdem sind noch viele Aspekte seines Lebens und Werks zum Teil unerforscht. Von besonderer Aktualität ist derzeit Valvasors graphische Sammlung,2 deren Faksimileausgabe in Vorbereitung ist.3 Bei der Erstel- lung des Katalogs bestätigt sich aus neuen Blickwinkeln die These, dass Valvasor der bedeutendste Universalgelehrte des Herzogtums Krain und Sloweniens überhaupt sowie einer seiner wichtigsten Vertreter in den Habsburgerländern und im mitteleuropäischen Raum war. 1 Über Valvasor z. B.Peter von Radics, Johann Weikhard Freiherr von Valva­sor (geb. 1641, gest. 1693), Laibach 1910; Branko Reisp, Kranjski polihistor Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Ljubljana 1983; Janez Vajkard Valvasor Slovencem in Evropi / Johann Weichard Valvasor to the Slovenes and to Europe, Hrsg. Lojze Gostiša, Katalog razstave / Exhibition Catalogue, Narodna galerija, Ljubljana 1989 (mit weiterführender Literatur); Irmgard Palladino, Johann Weichard Val-vasor: Repräsentant der Wissenschaftsrevolution des 17. Jahrhunderts (1. 12. 2004), http://colosseum.biblhertz.it/werkstatt/frameset.htm. 2 Die Sammlung bestand ursprünglich aus 18 Klebebänden, das 4. Album ist ver­loren. In die ersten 16 Bände klebte Valvasor Graphiken ein, die beiden letzten enthalten Zeichnungen. Nach Valvasors finanziellem Zusammenbruch infolge der hohen Kosten bei der Vorbereitung und Herausgabe der Ehre deß Hertzog-thums Crain, kaufte der Bischof von Agram (Zagreb) Aleksandar Mikulic im Jahr 1690 die Bibliothek und die graphische Sammlung; beide befinden sich noch heute im Besitz des Agramer Erzbistums und werden in der Bibliothe-ca Metropolitana aufbewahrt. Über die Sammlung vgl. z. B. Renata Gotthar-di-Škiljan, Valvasorjeva graficna zbirka zagrebške nadškofije / The Valvasor Collection of the Zagreb Archbishopric, in: Janez Vajkard Valvasor Slovencem in Evropi / Johann Weichard Valvasor to the Slovenes and to Europe, op. cit. (Anm. 1), 125–132, 135–142. 3 Das Projekt Iconotheca Valvasoriana leitet Lojze Gostiša im Rahmen der Stif-tung Janez Vajkard Valvasor bei der Slowenischen Akademie der Wissenschaf-ten und Knste. Valvasors monumentales Werk Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain4 enthält die einzige bekannte frühneuzeitliche graphische Darstellung zum Thema Jason und die Argonauten, die sich direkt auf Laibach (slow. Ljubljana) bezieht.5 Wie uns die Aufschrift auf dem Kupferstich mit der Nummer 87, den man als Der Bau von Emona betiteln knnte, mitteilt, ist Johann Koch (slow. Janez Koch; um 1650–1715 ?) der Autor der zeich­nerischen Vorlage (Jo: Koch d:),6 die Graphik selbst wurde von Andreas 4 Das Werk ist erschienen in fünfzehn Büchern, gebunden in vier Bände, mit dem Titel: Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain: Das ist, Wahre, gründliche, und recht eigendliche Belegen- und Beschaffenheit dieses, in manchen alten und neuen Geschicht-Büchern zwar rühmlich berührten, doch bishero nie annoch recht beschriebenen Römisch-Keyserlichen herrlichen Erblandes; Anjetzo, Vermit­telst einer vollkommenen und ausführlichen Erzehlung aller seiner Landschaf­ften, Böden, Felder, Wälder, Berge, fliessenden und stehenden Wassern, un­terirdischer Berg-Seen, bevorab deß Welt-berühmten Cirknitzer Wunder-Sees, auch verwunderlicher Grotten, und viel andrer ungemeiner Natur Wunder, imgleichen der Gewächse, Mineralien, Bergwercke, Edelgesteine, alter Müntz-Stücken, Thiere, Vögel, Fische u. überdas auch der Gebiete, Herrschafften, Schlösser, Städte, Märckten, Grentz-Häuser und Festungen, und deren so wol vormaligen, als heutigen Besitzer, oder Vorsteher, Gebieter, Einwohner, Spra­chen, Sitten, Trachten, Gewerben, Handthierungen, Religion, Heiligen, Patri­archen, Bischöffen, Orden, Pfarren, Kirchen, Klöster u. Regiments-Würden, Aemter, Gerichten, Ständen, und Familien; wie auch der Lands-Fürsten, Jahr-Geschichte, alter und neuer Denckwürdigkeiten: Durch selbst-eigene, gantz genaue, Erkündigung, Untersuchung, Erfahrung, und Historisch-Topographi­sche Beschreibung, In Funffzehen, wiewol in vier Haupt-Theile unterschiede­nen, Büchern, wie auch häuffigen Abrissen und zierlichen Kupffer-Figuren ausgebreitet von Johann Weichard Valvasor, Freyherrn, Einer hochlöblichen Landschafft in Crain Hauptmann im Untern Viertheil, und der Königlich-Eng­lischen Societät in England Mitgliede; Aber In reines Teutsch gebracht, auch, auf Begehren, mit manchen beyfügigen Erklärungen, Anmerck- und Erzehlun-gen, erweitert durch Erasmum Francisci, Deß Hochgräfl. Hauses Hohenloh und Gleichen Raht. Laybach, ANNO M DC LXXXIX. Zu finden bey Wolfgang Moritz Endter, Buchhändlern in Nürnberg. Cum Privilegio Sacrć Cćsareć Majestatis. 5 Johann Weichard Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain, Nürnberg – Laybach 1689, XIII, 9. 6 Z. B. France Stelč, s. v. Koch, Johann, in: Allgemeines Lexikon der Bilden- den Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegenwart (begrndet von Ulrich Thieme und Felix Becker), Hrsg. Hans Vollmer, 21, Leipzig 1927, 78; Viktor Steska, Slovenska umetnost: I. del. Slikarstvo, Prevalje 1927, 19; France Stelč, s. v. Koch, Ivan, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, Hrsg. I. Cankar und F. K. Luk-man, 1, Ljubljana 1925–1932 [1932], 481; Emilijan Cevc, Ob Valvasorjevem Prizorišcu cloveške smrti, in: Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Prizorišce cloveške smrti, Maribor – Novo mesto 1969, 279–319; Emilijan Cevc, J. W. Valvasor kot mentor slikarjev / J. W. Valvasor as Mentor of Painters, in: Janez Vajkard Val­ Trost (slow. Andrej Trost; gest. 1708) ausgeführt (Monogramm AT).7 Es handelt sich also um die Arbeit von zwei engen Mitarbeitern Valvasors auf dem Gebiet der bildenden Kunst, die auch sonst an seinen illustrierten Buchausgaben mitgewirkt haben. Die literarische Tradition, mit der sich Valvasor und der Redaktor Erasmus Francisci8 im ersten Kapitel des XIII. Buches mit dem Titel Von der Argonautischen Schifffahrt, und Illyrisch-Japydischen Kriegen, mit den Macedonischen Knigen auseinandersetzten, reichte lange zurück und war hinreichend bekannt. Neben den Texten älterer Autoren stellten Johann Ludwig Schönlebens (slow. Janez Ludvik Schönleben; 1618–1681) Aemona vindicata (1674) und Carniolia antiqua et nova (1681) die wich­tigsten Quellen dar.9 Wie schon andere vor ihm, versuchte auch Valvasor bzw. Francisci, den Argonautenmythos mit systematischen Beweisen als vasor Slovencem inEvropi / Johann Weichard Valvasor to the Slovenes and to Europe, op. cit. (Anm. 1), 169–195, 205–224: 184–191, 215–217; Emilijan Cevc, s. v. Koch, Janez, in: Enciklopedija Slovenije, 5, Ljubljana 1991, 175. 7 Z. B. Steska, op. cit. (Anm. 6), 20; Eduard Andorfer, s. v. Trost, Andreas, in: Allgemeines Lexikon der Bildenden Künstler von der Antike bis zur Gegen-wart (begründet von Ulrich Thieme und Felix Becker), Hrsg. Hans Vollmer, 33, Leipzig 1939, 432–433; Ljubomir Andrej Lisac, Branko Reisp, s. v. Trost An­drej, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, Hrsg. A. Gspan, J. Munda und F. Petrč, 4, Ljubljana 1980–1991 [1980], 186–187; Emilijan Cevc, s. v. Trost, Andrej, in: Enciklopedija Slovenije, 13, Ljubljana 1999, 350. 8 Inwieweit der Text des XIII. Buches dem Redaktor Francisci zuzuschreiben ist, ist noch nicht genau erforscht. Francisci selbst schreibt in seinem Verzeichniß meiner, Erasmi Francisci, bißhero gedruckter Schrifften ..., Nürnberg 1691, 16, ber seine Arbeit an der Ehre: „Wiewohl ich, auf dessen gnädiges Begehren, nicht allein manche Anmerckungen dazu gemacht; sondern auch etliche Bü­cher, sondern das Erste, Fünffte, Zehende, wie auch mehrentheils das Drey­zehende, allein verfertigt und das gantze Werck disponirt habe.“ Zitiert nach France Baraga, Erasem Francisci – redaktor Valvasorjeve Slave, in: Valvasorjev zbornik: Ob 300 letnici izida Slave vojvodine Kranjske: Referati s simpozija v Ljubljani 1989, Ljubljana 1990, 112–142: 121, Anm. 22; vgl. auch Marjeta Šašel Kos, The Roman Inscriptions in the National Museum of Slovenia: Lapidarij Narodnega muzeja Slovenije, Ljubljana 1997 (Situla. Razprave Narodnega mu-zeja Slovenije / Dissertationes Musei Nationalis Sloveniae, 35), 37–39. 9 Über Schönleben vgl. z. B. Jože Rus, Schoenleben in Valvasor: Pogledi v nju-no delavnico in genezo “Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain”, Glasnik Muzej­skega društva za Slovenijo 9, 1928, 50–69; Maks Miklavcic, s. v. Schönleben, Janez Ludvik, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, Hrsg. A. Gspan, 3, Ljubljana 1960–1971 [1967], 236–240; Darja Mihelic, Jezuit Janez Ludvik Schönleben kot zgodovinar, in: Jezuitski kolegij v Ljubljani (1597–1773): Zbornik razprav, Ljubljana 1998, 247–268; Stanko Kokole, Some Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Appropriations and Adaptations of the Myth of the Argonauts in Ljub­ljana. From Texts to Images, in diesem Band, 213–258: 216 ff. unbestrittene historische Tatsache zu erklären, und das auch in Abschnit-ten, deretwegen die historische Glaubwürdigkeit an Jasons Weg durch Krain überhaupt nicht leiden würde (zum Beispiel in dem Passus, der im Inhaltsverzeichnis beschrieben ist als „Unterschiedliche Meynung- und Ausdeutungen deß Güldnen Vliesses. Was eigentlich für ein Verstand in der Fabel von dem Phryxo und dem güldnen Fell begriffen sey“).10 Im Gegensatz zur literarischen Tradition, auf die sich dieses Kapitel in Valvasors Ehre stützt, ist die bildliche Tradition wesentlich dürftiger und sehr spezifisch;11 fr die Darstellung der Geschichte der Argonauten als Gründer Emonas, der antiken Vorgängerin Laibachs, stand Koch kein einziges älteres Werk zur Verfügung, auf das er sich hätte stützen können, und offensichtlich konnte ihm auch Valvasor, der sich ansonsten mit iko­nographischen Inventionen beschäftigte,12 keinen hilfreichen Rat geben. So erinnert das Gebäude auf der Graphik, obwohl im Vordergrund ein antikes Kapitell, eine Basis und eine Säule liegen, doch eher an eine mit­telalterliche Kirche (Abb. 1). Auch sonst könnte man das Blatt, wäre es nicht zwischen dem Text über die Argonauten gedruckt, wohl kaum als Jasons Bautätigkeit in Ljubljana verstehen. Unter den graphischen Darstellungen aus der Zeit um 1700 finden wir eine weitere Allusion auf die Gründung Emonas durch die Argo-nauten und zwar in dem Buch Epitome Chronologica (1714)13 von Johann Gregor Thalnitscher (1655–1714; slow. Janez Gregor Dolnicar). Die Titel-illustration ist ein Kupferstich seines Sohnes Alexius Sigismund Thal­ nitscher (slow. Aleš Žiga Dolnicar; 1685–1708).14 Es steht außer Zweifel, 10 Valvasor, op. cit. (Anm. 5), XIII, 3 ff. 11 Vgl. Andor Pigler, Barockthemen: Eine Auswahl von Verzeichnissen zur Ikono­graphie des 17. und 18. Jahrhunderts, 2, Budapest 1974, 40 (Die Fahrt der Ar-gonauten), 138 (Geschichte Jasons); Stephen J. Campbell, The Carracci, visual narrative and heroic poetry after Ariosto: the ‘Story of Jason’ in Palazzo Fava, Word & Image 18, 2002, 210–230: 211. 12 Z. B. ist das Titelblatt des Buches Theatrum mortis humanae tripartitum (1682) ein Entwurf Valvasors (W[eichard] W[alvasor] inuen[it] W[alvasor] excud[it] Jo[hannes] Koch del[ineavit] And[reas] Trost sculp[sit] Wagenspurgi in Car-niolia); vgl. Cevc, Ob Valvasorjevem Prizorišcu, op. cit. (Anm. 6), 289 ff; Cevc, J. W. Valvasor kot mentor, op. cit. (Anm. 6), 185–187, 216; Barbara Murovec, Die Zeichnungen des 17. Jahrhunderts im Herzogtum Krain: Der Künstlerkreis um den Freiherrn J. W. Valvasor (1641–1693), Barockberichte 20/21, 1998, 241– 246: 242–243, Abb. 3. 13 EPITOME CHRONOLOGICA, Continens Res Memorabiles, Nobilis, & Anti-quissimć Urbis LABACENSIS, Metropolis Inclyti Ducatus Carniolić. ... Autho-re JOANNE GREGORIO ŕ Thalberg Labacensi, Inter Academicos Operosos dicto Provido. Anno ŕ partu Virginis M. D. CC. XIV. Ćmonć conditć 2935. 14 Über Alexius Sigismund Thalnitscher vgl. Melita Stelč, Aleš Žiga Dolnicar, Zbornik za umetnostno zgodovino n. F. 1, 1951, 139–155; Marijan Smolik, s. Abb. 1. A. Trost, nach J. Koch, Der Bau von Emona (J. W. Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain, Laybach – Nürnberg, XIII, 9). dass das kleine Schiff zu Füßen der Personifikation von Emona / Laibach, nach dem Vorbild der Städtedarstellungen in Caesare Ripas Iconologia, die Argo ist (Abb. 2).15 Die Graphik entstand offensichtlich nach der An-weisung des Vaters, beschreibt doch Johann Gregor Thalnitscher in der unveröffentlichten Handschrift Annales urbis Labacensis in italienischer und lateinischer Sprache ganz genau, wie die Personifikation Laibachs aussehen sollte: v. Thalnitscher (Dolnicar) Aleš Sigismund, in: Slovenski biografski leksikon, Hrsg. A. Gspan, J. Munda und F. Petrč, 4, Ljubljana 1980–1991 [1980], 71–72. Unter den Schriften, die der junge Thalnitscher verfasst hat, zählt sein Vater auch das heute verschollene Scolion in sex Libros Jasonidos auf; Nachtrag in: Miscellanea Thalbergica II, Laybach 1711 (Semeniška knjižnica, Ljubljana / Bibliothek des Priesterseminars, Laibach, Sign. S II 2). – Für die hilfreiche Unterstützung bei der Durchsicht der Handschriften von Johann Gregor Thal­nitscher danke ich meiner Kollegin Dr. Ana Lavric. 15 Die Graphik wurde bereits publiziert von: Stelč, op. cit. (Anm. 14), 143, und Ana Lavric, Janez Gregor Dolnicar – kronist ljubljanskega mesta, in: Ad fontes: Otorepcev zbornik, Hrsg. Darja Mihelic, Ljubljana 2005, 139–157: 148. Lubiana. Si dipinge una bella dona majestosa, a sedere sopra li monumenti di ue­ neranda Antichita, con una corona di torri in testa, con habito di color uerde, e bianco, nella man destra tien un scuto, con Iscritione. Augusta Ćmo­na vetustate triumphans, con la sinistra un ramo di palme, a canto si uede un rostro di naue, con diuersi Epitafij, Colone, Lucerne, e medaglie antiche. Con il rostro di nave, si dimostra L’Argonaue, di Giasone heroe fundatore d’essa. Si rapresenta trionfante del tempo, mentre sta in piedi, con si gran circuito di 3 mille anni. Rouinate che furono Troja, Cartha­gine, Athene, e altere cit-tŕ, non sono piu risorte, ma Lubiana piu uolte da Barbari desolata e ruina­ta, e risorta piu uigorosa, e piu gratiosa che maj per uoler di Dio. Come per la pieta grata ad ęsso, si che si uede che ella e prese­ruata, e mantenuta come ćterna. Il habito di color uerde e bianco, e color d’insegna d’essa.16 16 Als Nachtrag mit demTitel Ad Iconologiam Caesaris del Ripa, addatur Carnio­lia o sia Cragno in: Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Annales urbis Labacensis, metropolis inclyti Ducatus Carnioliae, das ist, Jahrs-Geschichten der fürstl. Haupt Statt Laybach. Von Anno 1660, biss 1700. Dann continuiret von Anno 1700 biss 1718, fol. 117r (Semeniška knjižnica, Ljubljana / Bibliothek des Prie­sterseminars, Laibach, Hs. 11). Die italienische Beschreibung wurde bereits veröffentlicht in: Stelč, op. cit. (Anm. 14), 152; vgl. auch Ana Lavric, Janez Gregor Dolnicar in njegova Zgodovina ljubljanske stolne cerkve, in: Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Historia Cathedralis Ecclesiae Labacensis, Laba­ci 1701–1714 / Janez Gregor Dolnicar, Zgodovina ljubljanske stolne cerkve, Ljubljana 1701–1714, Hrsg. Ana Lavric, Ljubljana 2003 (Opera Instituti Artis Historiae), 11–62: 46, Anm. 223. Labacum. Pingitur uenusta Matrona in majestate Sua Sedens supra monumenta uenerandć antiquitatis, turribus capite coronata, veste uiridis, et albi coloris amicta, manu dextrâ scutum gerens cum Inscriptione. Augusta Ćmona vetustate triumphans. Sinistra ramum palmć tenens; ad Latus pedum cernitur rostrum nauis, nec non Lapidares inscriptiones, colu­ mnarum fragmenta, Lucernć, Numi Romanorum etc. Expositio. Pingitur ueste uiridi albo colore uariegata, genuino colore Ciuitatis Labac: Rostru[m] Nauis Conditore[m] Jasonem Heroem, ac Argonau­tos denotat. Monumenta et vetustatem signant. Augusta indigitatur Romanoru[m] more, quia sub Octauiano Augusta Colonia eo deducta. Triumphantis instar pingitur, quo designatur, quod de tempore trium­phum agat, cum proxime tria millia annorum attinget: Ruinatć ete­nim cum fuerant Troja, Carthago, Athenć, Aquilea, et plurimć alić insignes urbes, non redierunt unquam in pristinum statum, sed suis ruinis sepultć etiam num desolatć remanent; Labacum secus, sćpius licet a Barbaris uastatum, et funditus errutum, gratiosius tamen, gratiâ Diuinć bonitatis, ob Pietatem, quam ergSuperos grata constanter re-colit, semper resurexit, et in dies magis augetur. Vnde Cernitur, quod specialiter a Diuina prouidentia prćseruetur, protegatur, et respiciatur ut Ćterna. Ćmona Augustć nomen ab Augusto. Sub cuius auspicijs huc colonia deducta, assumpsit. Vetusti Grćci scriptores Augusta[m], e quibus Zosimus L.4 histor, no-minat. Sunt, qui id in auguria, et Deoru[m] ibi maxime usurpata sacra referant ex illo Ovidij in Fastis. Sancta uocant augusta, Patres Augusta uocantur / Templa Sacerdotu[m], rite dicata manu. Alij nomen Augustć Ei more Romanorum tribuunt, ob priscam incola-rum potentiam, et dignitatem.17 Der Text stimmt mit Alexius’ Kupferstich berein, nur dass anstelle eines Schiffsbugs zu Füßen der Personifikation zwischen antiken Frag-menten die Argo als kleines Schiff dargestellt ist. Die patriotische Besessenheit, mit der Johann Gregor Thalnitscher die Ereignisse seit der Gründung Emonas aufzählt, zeigt sich in mehreren 17 Wie Anm. 16, fol. 119. seiner Aufzeichnungen, nicht zuletzt zählte er den zu frühen Tod seines Sohnes Alexius ab Urb: Ćmona Condita 2929.18 * * * Wenn sich auch die neun Seiten des Textes über die Argonauten in der Ehre absichtlich von den mythischen Elementen zu distanzieren ver­suchen, vermitteln Valvasors übrige Werke, seine Bibliothek und seine graphische Sammlung jedoch einen anderen Eindruck, anhand dessen wir sein Interesse für mythologische Themen verfolgen können. Die Werke, die Valvasor zum Druck vorbereitet hatte, verfolgten unter anderem ei­nen betont didaktischen Zweck19 und lassen außerdem eine systematische Übertragung von menschlichen Schlüsselthemen – wie Glaube, Leben und Tod, seine Erfahrungen und Besitzungen – in die Illustration erkennen.20 Die bildliche Darstellungstradition der Geschichte der Argonauten hat sich in der frühen Neuzeit nicht bis zu dem Grad herausgebildet, der vergleichbar wäre mit der Beharrlichkeit, Häufigkeit und Popularität der Darstellung einiger anderer antiken Mythen wie etwa der Aeneis21 und besonders jener aus Ovids Metamorphosen.22 Zwar hat auch Ovid die Ge-schichte Jasons in sein Werk mit einbezogen, jedoch konzentrierte er sich auf Medeas Liebe zu Jason, die Verjüngung von Jasons Vater Aison und Medeas Täuschung der Töchter des Pelias (VII, 1–403). Eines der herausgeberischen Projekte Valvasors war der Druck einer illustrierten Ausgabe der Metamorphosen,23 die im Jahr 1680 in seiner 18 Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Cypressus Labacensis seu epitaphia et in-scriptiones Labacenses, ab 1688 (Semeniška knjižnica, Ljubljana / Bibliothek des Priesterseminars, Laibach, Hs. 10); Stelč, op. cit. (Anm. 14), 141. 19 Vgl. auch Francč Stele, Slovenski slikarji, Ljubljana 1949, 72; Cevc, Ob Valva­sorjevem Prizorišcu, op. cit. (Anm. 6), 281 ff. 20 Außer den Topographien, der Ehre und Ovid auch das Passionsbchlein Do-minicae Passionis Icones, das Theatrum mortis humanae tripartitum / Schau Bühne Deß Menschlichen Todts in drey Theil und das Opus Insignium Armo­rumque / Das grosse Wappenbuch; über die Werke Valvasors vgl. z. B. Branko Reisp, Janez Vajkard Valvasor: Življenje, delo in pomen / Janez Vajkard Val-vasor, his Life, Work and Significance, in: Janez Vajkard Valvasor Slovencem in Evropi / Johann Weichard Valvasor to the Slovenes and to Europe, op. cit. (Anm. 1), 13–47, 48–90. 21 Vgl. z. B. Vergil 2000 Jahre: Rezeption in Literatur, Musik und Kunst, Aus­stellung der Universitätsbibliothek Bamberg und der Staatsbibliothek Bamberg, 1982–1983, Bamberg 1982. 22 Vgl z. B. Max Ditmar Henkel, Illustrierte Ausgaben von Ovids Metamorpho- sen im XV., XVI. und XVII. Jahrhundert, Vorträge der Bibliothek Warburg 1926–1927, Leipzig – Berlin 1930, 58–144. 23 Das Titelblatt mit antiken Göttern als Personifikationen der vier Elemente: Il­lustrissimo D[omi]no D[omi]no Wolfgango Engelberto S: Rom: Imp: Comiti graphischen Werkstatt auf Schloss Wagensberg (slow. Bogenšperk) von Andreas Trost, Matthias Greischer (slow. Matija Greischer) und anderen angefertigt wurde.24 Im Allgemeinen stellen die illustrierten Ausgaben nach Ovids Metamorphosen, sieht man von wenigen originellen Ausnah-men ab, immer wieder aufs Neue dieselben Szenen und Kompositionen dar. Als eine der ersten graphischen Serien sind die 1557 in Lyon erschie­nenen Holzschnitte von Bernhard Salomon zu erwähnen.25 Unter diesem Gesichtspunkt knnte auch Valvasors Ausgabe (mit 96 nummerierten Graphiken) als pars pro toto fr die Darstellungen der Geschichte Jasons als Metamorphosen-Illustrationen dienen (Blatt 38–41, Abb. 3–5, 7). Sie eignet sich fr die Metamorphosen vor allem deshalb, weil sie Medeas Verjüngung von Jasons Vater Aison erzählt, sollte doch jede Geschichte mit einer Verwandlung enden. Jedoch fehlt in Valvasors Ausgabe gera­de das Bild der Verwandlung, obwohl der unter einer der Illustrationen stehende Text davon handelt. Wie wir wissen, benutzten die Stecher in Schloß Wagensberg als Vorlagen Graphiken von Crispijn de Passe d. Ä. (1564–1637),26 während man davon ausging, dass Valvasor den Text ver­fasst habe.27 Jedoch liegt der Grund für die zahlreichen Unstimmigkeiten zwischen Text und Bild in der ungewöhnlichen Kombination von zwei verschiedenen Text- und Bildquellen. Die lateinischen Titel und deutschen Distichen unter den Graphiken nach de Passe stammen nämlich aus der sehr bekannten illustrierten Metamorphosen-Serie von Johann Wilhelm ab Auersperg et Gottschee D[omi]no in Schön- et Seisenberg & Sup[re]mo et Hćreditario Incl˙ti Carniolić Ducatus et Marchić Sclauonić Mareschalco ac D[omi]no D[omi]no Suo gratioso Has Ouidij Metamorphoseos Icones D. D. C. Q. Deuotissimus Cliens Ioa[nne]s Weichardus Valuasor 1680 / A: Trost f[ecit] Wagensbergi in Carniolia. 24 Publius Ovidius Naso, Metamorphosen, Herausgegeben von Johann Weichard Valvasor, Wagensperg in Krain 1680, Faksimile-Ausgabe, Kommentar von Branko Reisp – Kajetan Gantar – Emilijan Cevc / Publij Ovidij Naso, Metamor­foze, Izdal Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Bogenšperg 1680, Faksimilirana izdaja, Av-torji spremnih besedil Branko Reisp – Kajetan Gantar – Emilijan Cevc, Ljublja­ na 1984; Valvasor bereitete außerdem das heute verschollene Werk Satyrischer Ovidius vor, das mehr als 170 Kupferstiche enthalten sollte; vgl. Valvasor, op. cit. (Anm. 5), VI, 369, Nr. 15 („Zugabe Erasmi Francisci“ zum VI. Buch). 25 Henkel, op. cit. (Anm. 22), 60. 26 Emilijan Cevc, Umetnostnozgodovinski pogled na Valvasorjevo izdajo Ovidi­jevih Metamorfoz / Ein kunstgeschichtlicher Blick auf Valvasors Ausgabe von Ovids „Metamorphosen“, in: Ovidius Naso, Metamorphosen, op. cit. (Anm. 24), 263–279, 305–323: 271–277, 314–321; zu den de Passe-Illustrationen vgl. z. B. Henkel, op. cit. (Anm. 22), 117–118; Ilja M. Veldman, Profit and Pleasure: Print Books by Crispijn de Passe, Rotterdam 2001 (Studies in Print and Print­ making, 4), 73–84, 189–240, 317–384 (kopierte Blätter in der Valvasorausgabe Abb. 174–177). 27 Radics, op. cit. (Anm. 1), 158. Baur (1607–1642), die erstmals 1641 in Wien erschien (Abb. 6, 8).28 Alle Radierungen Baurs haben lateinische Titel sowie zwei lateinische und zwei deutsche Verse; Valvasor übernahm lediglich den Titel als erste Text-zeile und das deutsche Distichon. Es stellt sich die Frage, warum Valvasor so vorging und der gleichen Serie nicht sowohl die Texte als auch die Bilder entnommen hat. Man kann die sehr hypothetische These aufstellen, dass es einerseits an der Sprache (Latein) in de Passe’ Serie lag, die nicht im Sinne Valvasors war, denn er entschied sich immer zugunsten der deutschen und nicht der lateinischen Sprache (höchstens für beide nebeneinander); andererseits könnte der bildliche Ausdruck der Baurschen Serie und die „unbertroffene Drama-tik und Leidenschaft in Gestik und Mienenspiel seiner Figuren“, bei der die „Bewegungen mit größter Heftigkeit und Pathos vorgetragen“ sind,29 Valvasors ästhetischen Vorstellungen fremd und für seine Mitarbeiter ein zu harter Brocken gewesen sein.30 Die Ausgabe von Valvasor enthält vier Illustrationen zur Geschichte Jasons. Auf der ersten Graphik (Blatt 38, Abb. 3) sind Medea und Jason im Gespräch dargestellt, im Hintergrund sehen wir die Argo und den Altar der Hekate. Es handelt sich um die Szene, in der die verliebte Medea dem Helden die wunderwirkende Salbe gibt (VII, 74–99). Der Text berichtet uns, dass Medea sich in Jason verliebt habe (nach Baur Nr. 62). Auf dem folgenden Blatt sieht man, wie Jason den Drachen einschläfert und sich mit Medeas Hilfe auf diese Weise das goldene Fließ aneignet (Blatt 39, Abb. 4); es ist das einzige Blatt, auf dem Bild und Text (nach Baur Nr. 63) völlig übereinstimmen, das heißt, der gleichen Ovidischen Vorlage ent­sprechen (VII, 149–158). Die dritte Graphik müsste nach dem lateinischen und deutschen Text Medeas Zauberkünste zeigen (nach Baur Nr. 64, Abb. 6), als sie Jasons Bitte um die Verjüngung seines Vaters entsprach. Es sind aber Pelias’ Töchter dargestellt, die ihren Vater töten (Blatt 40, Abb. 5), in der Überzeugung, sie könnten bei seiner Verjüngung mithelfen (VII, 297– 350). Auch der Text, der zur letzten Graphik der Geschichte von Jason und 28 Über Baur und seine Serie vgl. Henkel, op. cit. (Anm. 22), 128–131; Johann Eckart von Borries, Johann Wilhelm Baur (1607–1642): Umrisse seines Le- bens und Werks, in: Forma et subtilitas: Festschrift für Wolfgang Schöne zum 75. Geburtstag, Hrsg. W. Schlink und M. Sperlich, Berlin – New York 1986, 130–144; Régine Bonnefoit, Johann Wilhelm Baur (1607–1642): Ein Wegberei­ter der barocken Kunst in Deutschland, Tübingen – Berlin 1997, bes. 111–113, 158–165: Kat. R 119–269, für Kopien 186: Kat. N 2–152, 200: N 387–537 (mit Literatur). 29 Bonnefoit, op. cit. (Anm. 28), 112. 30 Vielleicht kopierten Valvasors Stecher den Text nach der Ausgabe von Paulus Frst mit den Kopien nach Baur von Abraham Aubry (Bonnefoit, op. cit. (Anm. 28), 186: Kat. N 2–152), denn die Blätter des Nürnberger Verlegers Fürst gehö­ren zu den zahlreichsten in Valvasors graphischer Sammlung. Abb. 3. Medea überreicht Jason das Zaubermittel (Ovidius, Metamorphosen, Hrsg. J. W. Valvasor, Wagensberg 1680, Faksimile-Ausgabe, Nr. 38). Abb. 4. Jason schläfert den Drachen ein (Ovidius, Metamorphosen, Hrsg. J. W. Valvasor, Wagensberg 1680, Faksimile-Ausgabe, Nr. 39). Abb. 5. Die Töchter des Pelias töten ihren Vater (Ovidius, Metamorphosen, Hrsg. J. W. Valvasor, Wagensberg 1680, Faksimile-Ausgabe, Nr. 40). Abb. 6. J. W. Baur, Medea verjüngt Aison (Illustrierte Ausgabe von Meta-morphosen, Nr. 64; nach der Internetseite http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/latin/ovid/ tempestabaurnew.html). Medea gehört (nach Baur Nr. 65, Abb. 8), entspricht inhaltlich nicht dem dazugehörenden Bild. Denn er handelt von Medeas Flucht, nachdem sie Pelias getötet hatte (VII, 351–393), während auf der Graphik Medea zu sehen ist, die die Göttin Hekate um magische Kräuter bittet (Blatt 41, Abb. 7), mit deren Hilfe sie Aison verjüngen konnte (VII, 179–237). Chronolo­gisch msste diese Graphik also vor dem dritten Blatt stehen. Dass Text und Bild in Valvasors Ausgabe nicht immer bereinstim-men, hängt mit dem ungewöhnlichen Kopieren nach zwei verschiedenen Vorlagen zusammen, aber auch mit Nachlässigkeit bei ihrer Übertragung und Zusammenstellung. Wie mechanisch die Vorgehensweise war, zeigt das Beispiel der Szene, in der Medea Hekate um Hilfe bittet, die Baur nicht in seine Serie aufgenommen hat. Als einer von Valvasors Mitarbei-tern diese nach de Passe kopierte, bernahm er den Text der Flucht Me-deas, da bei Baur nur dieser vorkam (Abb. 7, 8). Die Geschichte Jasons ist bei Ovid im Grunde genommen die Ge-schichte Medeas, der verliebten und betrogenen jungen Zauberin. Im Unterschied zu den populärsten Verwandlungen der Metamorphosen, die von zahlreichen Künstlern in Graphiken umgesetzt und in der Ma-lerei unzählige Male für die Innendekorationen der Schlösser verwendet wurden,31 ist der Mythos von Jason und Medea, die Fahrt der Argonauten und die Eroberung des Goldenen Vlieses ein ikonographisches Motiv, das nur auf einer sehr spezifischen und persönlichen Ebene funktioniert. Die wenigen bekannten Beispiele dieses selten dargestellten Mythos stehen in einem jeweils direkten Bezug zu konkreten historischen Ereignissen und Persnlichkeiten.32 In einem solchen „bestimmten“ Kontext stand auch die graphische Serie der Geschichte Jasons, die Valvasor in den X. Klebeband seiner Sammlung aufgenommen hat. Dieses Album mit dem Titel Vnderschidliche Ovidische Metamorphoseos, Poetische, Virgilische, Amorosische, Vnd sonsten Dergleichen Kupfferstich Welche Von Vnder­schidlichen Mahlern, Kupfferstechern vnd andern Künstlern inventirt, gezeichnet, vnd ins Kupffer gestochen enthält neben den (im Titel) aufge­zählten Illustrationen zu den Metamorphosen, der Aeneis, dem Märchen von Amor und Psyche zum Beispiel auch Graphiken nach Aesops Fabeln, die Taten des Herkules, moralisch-genremäßige Darstellungen wie das Speculum Cornelianum und nicht zuletzt die bereits genannte Serie mit 31 Zu slowenischen Werken und besonders Wandmalereien mit Darstellungen nach den Metamorphosen vgl. Barbara Murovec, Reception of the Printed Il­ lustrations of Ovid’s Metamorphoses in the Baroque Painting in Slovenia, in: Klovicev zbornik: Minijatura – crtež – grafika 1450. – 1700., Hrsg. Milan Pelc, Zagreb 2001, 177–185 (mit Literaturangaben). 32 Zu Fresken von Ludovico, Agostino und Annibale Carracci im Palazzo Fava vgl. Giovanna Perini, Il fregio con le storie di Giasone dipinto dai Carracci a Palazzo Fava, Bologna, in diesem Band, 189–211: 195. Abb. 7 Medea bittet die Gttin Hekate um die magischen Kräuter (Ovidius, Metamorphosen, Hrsg. J. W. Valvasor, Wagensberg 1680, Faksimile-Ausgabe, Nr. 41). Abb. 8 J. W. Baur, Die Flucht der Medea (Illustrierte Ausgabe von Meta-morphosen, Nr. 65; nach der Internetseite http://etext.lib.virginia.edu/latin/ovid/ tempestabaurnew.html). der Geschichte Jasons. Das uns bekannte Bildmaterial zum Thema Argo-nauten zeigt, dass Valvasor keine große Auswahl hatte, welche graphische Serie der Jasongeschichte er in seine Sammlung aufnehmen sollte. Wenn wir von den Radierungen Giulio Parigis nach Handzeichnungen von Re-migio Cantagallina, die den Aufzug von Prunkschiffen auf dem Arno an-lässlich der Hochzeitsfeier Herzog Cosimo II. de’ Medicis im Jahr 1608 als die Fahrt der Argonauten darstellen,33 absehen, dann ist die einzige mir bekannte in der frühen Neuzeit entstandene graphische Serie die, die Valvasor in sein Album eingeklebt hat (VZ X, 38–62, Bibliotheca Metro-politana, Zagreb). Die Zeichnungen zu diesem Zyklus stammen von Lé­onard Thyris (gest. um 1550) und die Kupferstiche von René Boyvin (um 1525–um 1580/1598 oder um 1626). Diese erschienen erst im Jahr 1563 als Buchillustrationen mit Versen von Jacques Gohory (gest. 1576) sowohl in einer lateinischen als auch in einer französischen Ausgabe mit dem Titel Historia Iasonis Thessalić Principis de Colchica velleris aurei expedi­tione bzw. Histoire de Jason et de la conquęte de la toison d’or (Abb. 9–10).34 Es handelt sich hier also um Illustrationen zu einem Text aus dem 16. Jahrhundert und nicht zu dem eines bestimmten antiken Autors. Das lateinische und französische Vorwort von Gohory der beiden Ausgaben, die der Verleger Jean de Mauregard Karl IX. widmete, unterscheiden sich wesentlich: in dem lateinischen Text, der sich an ein gebildetes Publikum richtet, beruft sich der Schriftsteller nachdrcklich auf die Argonauten­ geschichte zahlreicher Vorgänger, etwa des „grammaticorum Theonis, Sophoclis, Seruii, Fulgentii, Hyginii, historicorum Diodori Siculi, Iustini, poëtarum Orphei, Apollonii Rhodii, Valerii Flacci, Ouidii Nasonis“, wäh-rend das französische Vorwort nur „la verité extraicte des plus anciens & authentiques Autheurs Grecs & Latins“ erwähnt. Die französiche Ausgabe war, obwohl nur die „vulgäre“ Begleiterin der lateinischen, welche als ein kleines literarisches Traktat angesehen werden könnte, wesentlich weiter verbreitet. Valvasor nahm die Bovyin-Serie als Sammler von graphischen Blättern vor allem deshalb in seine Sammlung auf, weil sie für dieses be-deutende mythologische Thema exemplarisch war (darber, ob sie in ihm 33 Vgl. Pigler, op. cit. (Anm. 11), 40. 34 Über die Serie vgl. z. B. Alexandre P. F. Robert-Dumesnil, Le peintre-graveur français, ou Catalogue raisonné des estampes gravées par les peintres et les dessinateurs de l’école française, 8, Paris 1850, 36–44; Marquet de Vasselot, La conquęte de la toison d’or et les émailleurs limousins du XVIe sičcle, Revue de l’art ancien et moderne 34, 1913, 241–253; André Linzeler, Inventaire du fonds français: Graveurs du seizičme sičcle, 1, Paris 1932, 172–177; Jacques Levron, René Boyvin, graveur angevin du XVIe sičcle: Avec le catalogue de son śuvre, Angers 1941, 30–34; Real Coleccin de Estampas de San Lorenzo de El Escorial, Hrsg. Jesús María González de Zárate, 2, Vitoria-Gasteiz 1993, 29–40; Campbell, op. cit. (Anm. 11), 219 ff. Abb. 9 R. Boyvin, Jason und etliche Helden Griechenlands schiffen sich auf der Argo ein (Graphische Sammlung Valvasors, X, 43, Bibliotheca Metropolita­na, Zagreb; im Besitz des Agramer Erzbistums). besondere Assoziationen im Hinblick auf die Gründung Emonas weckte, läßt sich nur mutmaßen). Wir können die Serie aber auch als „Malerbibel“ verstehen,35 was vom Herausgeber unter anderem auch beabsichtigt war, wie aus der Widmung an den König hervorgeht (... ou pour vne peinture exquise ŕ enrichir quel que galerie). Alles in allem läßt sich festhalten, dass der zum Teil ausnehmend blutige und emotional negative Stoff für repräsentative bildliche Darstel­ 35 In Valvasors X. Album sind 24 von 26 Blättern der Serie eingeklebt und zwar mit französischen Versen, die auf besonderen Platten gedruckt waren. Illustra­tionen und Texte wurden zum Teil falsch miteinander kombiniert(was auch auf andere Ausgaben zutrifft; vgl. z. B. das Exemplar in der Bibliothčque Nationale de France, Paris, und Robert-Dumesnil, op. cit. (Anm. 34), 40), zum Teil falsch gedruckt (s. VZ X, 49, 54) und auch die Reihenfolge der Graphiken im Album ist teilweise fehlerhaft; in nicht entsprechender Reihenfolge im Hinblick auf den Inhalt sind die Graphiken auch bei: Linzeler, op. cit. (Anm. 34), 175, Nr. 10–12; Levron, op. cit. (Anm. 34), 66, Nr. 10–12; Hélčne Schneider, Histoire de Jason (Kat. Nr. 18), in: La Toison d’Or: Un myth européen, Hrsg. J. L. Liez, Paris 1998, 158–159: 159, angeführt. Abb. 10 R. Boyvin, Medea zerstückelt ihren Bruder Absyrtos und wirft seine Krperteile ins Meer (Graphische Sammlung Valvasors, X, 53, Bibli­otheca Metropolitana, Zagreb; im Besitz des Agramer Erzbistums). lungen nicht besonders geeignet war, umso mehr aber für Tragödien und Libretti, wo er ja auch eine Blüte erlebte.36 36 Vgl. z. B. Jane Davidson Reid, The Oxford Guide to Classical Mythology in the Arts, 1300–1900s, 1, New York – Oxford 1993, 612–623. Graficne upodobitve zgodbe o Jazonu v luci izdajateljskega in zbirateljskega delovanja Janeza Vajkarda Valvasorja Janez Vajkard Valvasor kot ena osrednjih osebnosti slovenske kulturne zgodovine druge polovice 17. stoletja je pomemben tudi za obravnavo mita o Jazonu. V njegovi Die Ehre deß Hertzoghtums Crain (1689) je natisnjena edina zgodnjenovoveška graficna upodobitev, ki se neposredno navezuje na zgodbo o Jazonovi ustanovitvi Emone. Risarska predloga zanjo je delo Janeza Kocha, vrezal pa jo je Andrej Trost. Vendar pa je bakrorez – naslo­vili bi ga lahko Gradnja Emone – kot takšen vsebinsko dolocljiv le zato, ker je v Die Ehre vkljucen v poglavje o argonavtih, saj sam prizor bolj spominja na gradnjo srednjeveške cerkve kakor anticnega mesta. Druga likovna aluzija na argonavte kot mitološke graditelje Emone v graficni tehniki je na Personifikaciji Emone / Ljubljane, naslovnem listu k Epitome Chronologica (1714) Janeza Gregorja Dolnicarja. Bakrorez, na katerem je kot mala ladjica upodobljena tudi Argo, je po ocetovih navodi­lih izdelal Aleš Žiga Dolnicar. Natancen opis, kako se naslika Ljubljano po vzoru personifikacij mest Caesara Ripe (Ad Iconologiam Caesaris del Ripa, addatur Carniolia o sia Cragno), je Janez Gregor v italijanskem in latinskem jeziku dodal k rokopisu Annales urbis Labacensis. Zgodba o Jazonu je bila v nasprotju z na primer Vergilijevo Eneido ali še posebej z Ovidijevimi Metamorfozami redko predstavljena kot sa­mostojna graficna serija, zaradi Ezonove »preobrazbe«, torej Medejine pomladitve Jazonovega oceta, pa je bila praviloma vkljucena v ilustrirane izdaje Metamorfoz, tudi v Valvasorjevo, ki so jo njegovi sodelavci pri­pravili v delavnici na Bogenšperku leta 1680. Znano je, da so upodobitve kopije po listih Crispijna de Passeja st., besedilo (latinski naslov in nemški distih) pod njimi pa je veljalo za Valvasorjevo. V resnici se je kot izdajatelj odlocil za nenavadno kombinacijo, zaradi katere je v vec primerih prišlo do vsebinske neenotnosti med tekstom in podobo. Valvasor je namrec de Passejeve prizore podnaslovil z besedili iz druge ilustrirane izdaje Ovi­dijevih Metamorfoz – »prepisal« jih je iz serije z jedkanicami Johanna Wilhelma Baura. Prav poseben pomen gre Valvasorju kot zbiratelju graficnih listov. V njegovi skoraj v celoti ohranjeni zbirki (zdaj v lasti zagrebške nadškofije) pa so se v X. zvezku s profanimi narativnimi cikli ohranile tudi knjižne ilustracije za Liure de la Conqueste de la Toison d’or (1563). Ker je zgodba o Jazonu kot serija izjemno redka, Valvasor pravzaprav ni imel možnosti izbire med deli razlicnih avtorjev. Pregled posameznih listov kaže, da snov s številnimi okrutnimi prizori ni bila posebej primerna za reprezentativne likovne upodobitve, toliko bolj pa je ustrezala za tragedije in librete, kjer je tudi doživela pravi razcvet. INDEX / IMENSKO KAZALO Absyrtos . Apsyrtus Abzu: 168 Achaeans: (23), 26 Acheloo: 163 Achilles: 42, 87, 98 Adrasto: 107 Adriatic: 15, 16–17, 20, 25–26, 31–34, 57, 213, 220, 246 Aeetes: 13–14, 17, 84, 94, 205, 213–214 Aegean: 14 Aelian: 244–245 Aeneas: 26–27, 33, 43 Aeson: 89, 93, 266–267, 270–271, 192, 226 Aesop: 271 Aetes . Aeetes Aetolia: 27, 30, see also / glej tudi Artemis, Aetolian Aetolians: 33 Afrodita . Aphrodite Agesicora: 165 Aglaope: 166 Agram . Zagreb Aia: 13, 84–85, 100 Aiaie: 84–85 Aietas . Aeetes Aigaios (river): 89 Aigeus: 122–124, 128 Aigialeia: 29 Aison . Aeson Aja . Aia Alaric: 17 Albinoni, Tomaso: 139–144, 148, 154, 160 Alcestis: 42, 50–51 Alcimede: 107 Alcinous (king): 88 Alcmane: 165 Aldrovandi, Ulisse: 192, 194, 202–203 Alessandro Magno: (121), 191 Alexander the Molossian: 33 Alexandria: 83 Algardi, Alessandro: 206 Alighieri, Dante: 112 Alinda: (124), 125 Alkinoos: 89 Alpe . Alps Alps: 16, 67, 231, 246 Amalteo, Aurelio: 151 Amazon(s): 125 Amburgo . Hamburg America latina: 169 Ammannati, Bartolomeo: 202 Amodei, Cataldo: 173 Amphitrite: 243 Andromeda (serenata): 131, 133–136, 149–153, 160 Andromeda: 43, 131–132, 137–138, 144, 148, 150, 154–159 Angelica (serenata): (140) Antaura: 168–169 Antemoessa (island): 164– 165 Antenor: 26 Antimachus: 14–15 Antoninus Pius (Roman emperor): 64 Apeninski polotok: 130; see also / glej tudi Italy Aphrodite: 27–29, 35, 87, 202, 206, 210 Apollo: 25, 27, 32, 165, 204–206, 211 Apollo Alaios: 25 Apollo Ebone: 170 Apollodoro: 106 Apollonio di Giovanni: 194 Apollonio Rodio . Apollonius of Rhodes Apollonius of Rhodes: 13–15, 16, 83, 86–88, 91–92, (94), 95, 97–100, 105, 165 Apolonij Rodoški . Apollonius of Rhodes Apolonij z Rodosa . Apollonius of Rhodes Aprile, Giuseppe (Scirolino): 171 Apsirt . Apsyrtus Apsyrtus: 15, 90, 100, 275 Apulia: 30–31, 33, 168, (171) Aquilea . Aquileia Aquileia: 16, 57, 73, 265 Aquilis (river): 213 Archemoro: 103 Ares: 87 Argives: (24) Argo: 84, 86, 92–93, 100, 165, 213, 220, 234, 246, 257, 263, 265, 268, 274, 276 Argonauten . Argonauts Argonauti . Argonauts Argonautica (Orphic): 84 Argonauts: 13–15, 16–17, 20, 31, 83–86, 88, 92–93, 98–99, 100, 103, (105), 106, 110, 117, 120, 124, 128, 130, 165, 178, 194–195, 213–215, 218, 220–221, 226–229, 231–234, 237–238, 245–250, 256–257, 260– 262, 264–266, 271, 273, 276 argonavti . Argonauts Argos: 27, 29, 34 Ariadna . Ariadne Ariadne: 90–92, 94–100, (128), 133 (opera), 136 (opera) Arianna . Ariadne Ariccia: 110 Aringhi, Pietro: 223–224, 256 Ariosto, Ludovico: 172 Aristotel . Aristotle Aristotle: 25, 130 Armenia: 195 Arno: 25, 273 Arpi: 33 Arsia (river): 16 Artega, Esteban: 119 Artemide . Artemis Artemis: 31 (Aetolian), 41, 165 Asia Minor: 78 Astorga, viceré, marchese di: 172 Atene . Athens Athamas: 13 Athena: 14, 24, 31 (Trojan) Athene . Athens Athens: 98, 128–130, 135, (140), 264–265 Atrans (Trojane): 58, 70 Atropo: 164 Attila: 232 Aubry, Abraham: (268) Aulis: 64 Aureli, Aurelio: 128–130, 151 Austria: 150 Baccanti . Bacchantes Bacchant(es): 95–96, 104 Bacco: 108, 109, 111, 201, 203, 205, 210 Badoaro, Giacomo: 122 Baltic regions: 57 Barb, Alfons A.: 168 Barigoni, Filippo: 244 Bartolommei, Girolamo: 151 Basile, Adriana: 171 Basilicata: 168 Bassi, Carlo: 151 Baur, Johann Wilhelm: 267–268, 270–272, 276 Belli, Domenico: 151 Bellia, Ottavio: 151 Belolli, Marianna: (176) Benelli, Antonio: (176) Benetke . Venice Bentivoglio, Griseide: 195, 199 Berlino: 183 Bernardoni, Pietro Antonio: 151 Bertoldo di Giovanni: 204 Besso: 124–127 Biffi, Antonino: 139, 146–147, 154, 160 Black Sea: 13–15, 17, 85, 214 Boccaccio, Giovanni: 112, 113 Bogenšperk . Wagensberg Bologna: 151, 191–213, 217, 234, 248, 255 Bononcini, Antonio Maria: 151 Bononcini, Giovanni: 173 Bos, Cornelis: 202 Bosio, Antonio: 223–224 Bosio, Janez Jernej: 218 Bosphorus: 14 Boyvin, René: 202, 273–275 Brabeck, Moritz von: 239, 241, 245, 258 Broschi, Carlo (Farinelli): 171 Brusa, Giovanni Francesco: 139, 146 Caesar: (131) Calabria: 25, 166 Caldara, Antonio: 175, 185 Calendina: 51, 63–64 Callimachus: 14 Callisto: 121 Calydon: 27 Calypso: 16 Campania: 169 Campeggi, Ridolfo: 151 Canova, Antonio: 195 Cantagallina, Remigio: 273 Capaccio, Giulio Cesare: 170, 178 Capri: 166 Carambis: 15 Carigrad . Costantinopoli Carlo V: 192 Carniola: 214–220, 228, 230, 235, 237, 239–242, 244–246, 262, 276 Carracci, Agostino: 195, 201, 204– (205), 248, 255, (271) Carracci, Annibale: 196, 201, (205)– 206, 248, 255, (271) Carracci, Family: 191–213 Carracci, Ludovico: 196, 201–202, 248, 255, (271) Carrara: 238 Cartari, Vincenzo: 200, 204, 241–245, (247)–248 Carthagine . Carthago Carthago: 264–265 Cassani (Casoni), Vincenzo: 133, 135–136, 139, 144, 151, 160 Cassiope . Cassiopeia Cassiopeia: 132, 136–138, 140, 142, 154–159 Castor: 44, 64 Catalogna: 168 Cato: (131) Catone (il grammatico): 167 Catone: (131) Catullus: (88), 92–93, 95, 97–98, 100 Cavalli, Francesco: 119, (120), (124– 125), 130 Caylus, Anne-Claude Philippe de Tubičres (Count of): 28–29 Cecco d’Ascoli: 167 Cefeo . Cepheus Celeia: 57–58, 60–63, 67–68, 70, 73 Celje: 57–60, 66–67, 70–73, 80; see also / glej tudi Celeia Celts: 65 Centaurs: 48–49 Cepheus: 132, 136 Cerere: 193, (201)–202 Cesi, Bartolomeo: 207 Cesi, Pier Donato: 193 Charybdis: 16 Cheiron (cave): 98 Chio: 113 Cicognini, Giacinto Andrea: 119, 121–130, 151 Cipro: 174 Circe: 16, 84, 86, 100, 165 Ciro: 191 Cittŕ del Mexico . Mexico City Cittanova . Novigrad Claudiano: 167 Clemente VIII: 196 Cloto: 164 Colchi . 112 Colchide . Colchis Colchis: 13–15, 31 (Colchian dragon), 85, 88, 93, 100, 117, 122–123, 128, 195, 213, 220 Comminges: 168, 181 Conti, Francesco: 103, 117 Corcoras . Krka Corcyra: 14–15, 31, 88, 98 Corinth: 122–123, 128 Costa, Lorenzo: 195–196 Costantinopoli: 195, 213 Costanzi, Giovanni Battista: 135 Coya, Donatello: 171 Crain . Carniola Cratis (river): 25 Crete: 15 Creusa: 43, 122, (123) Crimissa: 25 Crno morje . Black Sea Croton: 25–26; see also / glej tudi Crotone Crotone: 174 Cupid: 137, 197, (201) Cupido . Cupid Cuzco: 169 Dacia: 49 Daliso: 136–138, 144–145, 150, 154–159 Danaë: 132 Danube provinces: 38, 46 Danube (river): 14–15, 16–17, 20, 214, 245; see also / glej tudi Ister Daunus: 30, 32 Davide: 191 De Belloy, Dormont: 115, 116, 118 De Chirico: 96 De las Navas (viceré): 173 Delphi: 41, (84) Demodocus: 87 Di Sangro, Raimondo (principe di Sansevero): 174 Dia (sea-girt): 90, 95 Diana: (201), 206 Diana Nemorense: 110, 114 Diodorus Siculus: 273 Diomede . Diomedes Diomedes: 27–35, 205; see also / glej tudi Islands of D. and / in Promontory of D. Dioniz . Dionysus Dionysius I of Syracuse: 33 Dionysus: 88, 90–91, (96), 97–100 Dioscuri: 14, 44, 46, 67, (84) Dobrteša vas: 57 Dolenjska . Lower CarniolaDolnicar, Aleš Žiga . Thalnitscher, Alexius Sigismund Dolnicar, Janez Gregor . Thalnitscher, Johann Gregor Dolnicar, Janez Krstnik . Thalnitscher, Johannes Baptist Dolnitscher, Joannes Gregorius . Thalnitscher, Johann Gregor Donava . Danube Doyen, Gabriel-François: 28 Draghi, Antonio: 151 Du Choul, Guillaume: 224, 256 Dunaj . Vienna East: 39 (Hellenistic), 46 (Eastern part of the Roman Empire) Eeta . Aeetes Egeo . Aigeus Egisto: 121 Electris: 16 Elicona: 165 Elimo: 107 Emilia: 196 Emona (river): 16 Emona: 13, 16–18, 20, 57–58, 60, 70, 73, 213–214, 218–220, 224–232, 234–237, (240)–241, (245)–246, 248–250, 256, 262–266, 274, 276 Empedocles: 87 Endymion: 50 Ennia Oppidana: 63 Ennii: 48–49, 51, 59, 62–63, 66–67 Ennius Vitulus: 63 Ennius, Quintus Liberalis: 63, (87) Enns (Lauriacum): 51 Enoe (island): 106 Eolo: 201–(202), 210 Epeios: 24 Epirus: 19 Eracle . Hercules Erato: (87) Erberg, Jožef Kalasanc: (240) Ercole . Hercules Ercole da Ferrara: 195 Eridanus (river): 15, 16, 213 Erinni: 167 Erodoto: 105 Eros: 87, 91, 95 Esiodo: 165 Esone . Aeson Ethiopia: 132 Eumelo: 170 Euridice: 86, 165 Eurinome: 113, 114 Euripides: 14, 88–89, 92, (94) Europa: 51, 62–63 Europe: 37 (Western and Central), 66 (Central), Eurydice . Euridice Ezon . Aeson Fago, Nicola: 173 Falconieri, Andrea: 172 FaustinatheElder(Romanempress):64 Faustini, Giovanni: 120–121, 123–124 Fava, Family: 191–213 Fava, Filippo: 192–194, 196, 213 Fava, Giovan Galeazzo: 196 Fava, Giulia: 194–(195) Fava, Scipione: 194–(195) Feneo: 136 Ferdinando IV di Borbone (re di Napoli): (176) Ferrara: 151, 195–196, (199), 213 Ferrari, Benedetto: 151 Fineo . Phineus Firenze . Florence Flavia Solva: 42 Florence: 151, (194)–195, 201–202 France: 28, 135 Francisci, Erasmus: 228, 261, (267) Fulgentius: 273 Fürst, Paulus: (268) Galija: 53 Ganymedes: 42, 63 Gassmann, Florian Leopold: 115, 118 Gemona: 218 Gentile, Domenico: 173 Georgia: 195 Germanija: 53 Gessi, Berlingero: 151 Gia: 107, 114 Giacobbi, Girolamo: 151 Giambologna: 193, 202 Gianettini, Antonio: 130 Giardini, Felice: 175 Giasone . Jason Gibraltar . Pillars of Hercules Giovanni (Don Juan) d’Austria: 172 Giove . Jupiter Giraldi, Lilio Gregorio: 243 Giustiniani, Benedetto: 196 Giustiniani, Family: (194)–198, 208– 209, 213 Giustiniani, Vincenzo: 195 Gladic, Jurij Andrej . Gladich, Georgius Andreas Gladich, Georgius Andreas: 230–232, 249, 256 Gluck, Christoph Willibald: 115, 118 Gohory, Jacques: 200, 273 Golgi: 95 Gorenjska . Upper Carniola Gorge: 107 Gorgia: 164 Gorgone . Gorgons Gorgons: 64, 203 Gotovlje: 57 Granelli, Carolus: 239, 241, 245, 258 Grassi, Luigi: (176) Gravina, Vincenzo: 151 Graz: 216 Grcija . Greece Greece: 13, 17, 23, 34–35, 39, 41, 163 (Magna Grecia), 166–167 (Magna Grecia) Greeks: 23–27, 30, 33, 35, 164 Gregorio XIII: 193 Greischer, Matija . Greischer, Matthias Greischer, Matthias: 267 Grimaldi, Nicola (Niccolino): 171 Griže: 57, 70 Grki . Greeks Guarini: (124–125) Guazzoni, Diomisso: 151 Guidotti, Family: 199, 208–209 Guidotti, Sallustio: 195 Hades: 86 Halle: 175 Hamburg: 177 Händel, Georg Friedrich: 175, 185 Hannibal: 33 Hasse, Johann Adolf: (176) Hecataeus: 14 Hector: 42 Heemskerk, Marten van: (194), 202–203 Hekate: 268, 271–272 Hele: 13 Helios: 84, 92 Heneti of Paphlagonia: 26 Hera . Here Hera, Argeia: 31 Heracles . Hercules Herakles . Hercules Hercules: 14, 20, 25, 27, 42, 44, 92–93, 124, 126–128, 130, 163, 236, 271; see also / glej tudi Pillars of Hercules Here: 84, 89 Herkul . Hercules Herkules . Hercules Hermes: 206 Herodotus: 14 Hesiodus: 14 Hesperia: 220 Hesperides: 16 Hilas: 20 Hippolyte: 128 Hipsipila . Hypsipile Homer: 15, 23–26, 29, 31, 165 Horus: 68 Humin . Gemona Hyginus: 128–129, 243, 273 Hylas: 14, 93 Hypsipyle: 90, 103–117, 122–125, 128 Iason . Jason Ibycus: 30 Idalium: 95 Igino: 111 Imeneo: 135, (140) India: 172 Inner Carniola: 240, 257 Innerkrain . Inner Carniola Ino: 13 Iolcus: 13, 20, 220 Ionian Sea: 24–25 Iphigenia: 41–42, 64 Ipsipile . Hypsipile Ischia: 23 Isis: 68 Island of Blessed: 49 Islands of Diomedes: 30–31 Issipile . Hypsipile Ister: 14, 245–246 Istria: 182 Itaca: 165 Italia . Italy Italija . Italy Italy: 17, 20, 26, 31–33, 39, 43, 46, 163 (South), 172 Iulia, Sexti f(ilia): 61 Iustinus: 273 Jadran . Adriatic Jason: 13–14, 17, 20, 84–85, 88–93, 98–100, 103, 105, 110, 112, 114, 117, 119, (120), 121–129, 130, 198, 205, 213, 218, 220–221, 226–229, 231–237, 241, 245–249, 260, 262, 264–265, 267–269, 271, 273–274, 276 Jazon . Jason Jerome, St: 13 Jerusalem: 231, 249 Jolkos . Iolcus Jupiter: 42, 63, 201, 244; see also / glej tudi Zeus Karel Burbonski: 185 Katul . Catullus Khumerstainer, Johann: 237–238, 245, 251, 257 Kirka . Circe Knossos: 90 Koch, Janez . Koch, Johann Koch, Joannes . Koch, Johann Koch, Johann: 234–235, 250, 260, 262–263, 276 Kolhida . Colchis Koller, Hermann: 164 Krain . Carniola Kranjska . Carniola Krka (river): 239–241, 257 Kvarner (Quarnaro): 16 Labacum . Ljubljana Lachesi: 164 Laibach . Ljubljana Langer: 57, 70 Lauriacum: 51 Lazio: 110 Learco: 113 Lemno . Lemnos Lemnos: 90, 103, 105–108, 110–112, 114, 116–118 Leopold I: 237 Lesbo . Lesbos Lesbos: 115–116, 118 Leucosia: 166 Lezbos . Lesbos Libya: 14–15 Licofrone: 166 Licurgo . Lycurgus Ligeia: 166 Likurg . Lycurgus Lilith . Lilitu Lilitu: 168 Limes-area: 49 (Norican) Linhart, Anton Tomaž: 230–(231), 247, 257 Linz: 216 Lissos: 33 Livy: 26 Ljubljana: 16–17, 20, 58, 213–216, 218–222, 225–227, 230–233, 235– 239, 241, 244–247, 249–254, 260, 262–265, 276; see also / glej tudi Emona Ljubljanica (river): 227, 231, 239–241, 246, 257 Locica pri Polzeli: 57 London: (146), 174–175, 179, 182, 195, 209 Londra . London Lotti, Antonio: 139, 146 Lower Carniola: 240, 257 Lubiana . Ljubljana Luzio, Gennaro (di): (176) Lycophron: 25, 31–32 Lycurgus (king of Nemea): 103, 107, 117 Macerata: 151 Macris (nymph): 88 Madrid: 195 Maenad(s): 51; see also / glej tudi Satyr Maendas: 97 Magna Grecia . Greece Mancia, Luigi: 173, 185 Mancini, Francesco: 173 Manelli, Francesco: 151 Mantua: 136, 151 Marcello, Benedetto: 133, 136, 139, 146 Marchi, Antonio: 151 Marcus Aurelius (Roman emperor): 64, 76 Maria Giuseppa d’Austria (regina di Napoli): 176 Maria Saal: 42–43 Maria Theresa: 239–240 Marigliani, Ercole: 151 Marte: 172, 201–203, 209 Martelli, Pier Jacopo: 151 Massimo, Valerio: 115–116, 118 Mattioli, Andrea: 151 Mauregard, Jean de: 273 Mayr, Janez Krstnik . Mayr, Johann Baptist Mayr, Johann Baptist: 215–216 Medea: 14, 20, 83–85, 87–92, 94–95, 98–100, 106, 112, 119, 122–125, 128–130, 192, 194, 197–198, 205, 220, 266, 268–272, 275–276 Medeja . Medea Medici, Cosimo II. de: 273 Medici, Family: 201 Mediterranean: 14–15, 23–24, 26, 32, 34–35, 39 Medos (Medo, son of Medea): 128 Medusa: 39, 63, 65, 132, 203 Meliso: 136–138, 144, 146, 154–159 Melite (mountain): 89 Melpomene: 206 Mercurio: 193, (201), 205–206, 212 Messico . Mexico Metapontium: 24, 26 Metastasio, Pietro: 103–106, 113–118, (131), 174, (176) Metz: 181 Mexico City: 174, 185 Mexico: 173 Michelangelo: 201, 213 Micone: 111 Mikulic, Aleksandar: (259) Milano: 182 Millico, Giuseppe (Il Moscovita): 171 Milton, John: 171 Mimnermus of Kolophon: 30 Minerva: 203, 206, 209 Minos: 90, 95 Minotaur: 95 Monaco . Munich Monteverdi, Claudio: 96, 120, (124– 125), 151 Mosč: 191 Munich: 178 Muse: 164, 165 Nanos: 20 Naples: 115, 118, 140, 151, 163, 166, 169–175, 178, 182–184 Napoli . Naples Nauportus: 13, 16–17, 20, 214, 220, 231–232, 239, 246, 249, 257; see also / glej tudi Ljubljanica and / in Vrhnika Navport . Nauportus Naxos: 92, 94, 97, 100 Neaplej . Naples Neapolis . Naples Nemea: 107, 111, 117 Neptune: 94, 193, 202, 212, 235–238, 242–248, 251, 255 Nereidi . Nereids Nereids: 94, 132, 136, 168 Nestor: (23), 24, 26 Nettuno . Neptune Nicephorus Callistus: 17 Ninfe: 164–165, 172 Ningus (river): 16 Noricum: 17, 39, 44–45, 62–63, 67–68, 73, 76, 79, 214 Norik . Noricum Notranjska . Inner Carniola Novi Klošter: 57 Novigrad: 218 Oberkrain . Upper Carniola Ocean: 14–15, 163 Oceano . Ocean Oceanus: 85 Octauiano: 265 Odisej . Odysseus Odisseo . Odysseus Odysseus: 84, 86, 120, 122, 163, 165– 166, 176, 179, 185, 192 Ofelt . Ofelte Ofelte: 103, 117 Oineus: 27, 30 Olimpiade, L’ (opera): (140) Olympiodorus: 17 Olympus: 28 Omero . Homer Ops: 206 Orestes: 41, 51, 64 Orfej . Orpheus Orfeo . Orpheus Orlandini, Giuseppe Maria: 151 Orlando: 192 Ormindo: 121 Orontea: (121) Orpheus: 14, 83, (84), 86–87, 89, 97–98, 100, 131, 165, 205, 273 Orsi, Arrigo di Orsino: 194–195, 213 Orsi, Bernardino: 196 Orsi, Family: 194–196, (199)–(200), 209 Orsi, Ginevra: 192, 196, 199 Ottoboni, Antonio: 135 Ottoboni, Pietro (cardinal): 133–135, 137, 140, 150, 160 Ovid: 96, 106, (124), 165, 167, 265– 271, 273, 276 Ovidij . Ovid Ovidio . Ovid Ovidius . Ovid Oxford: 167, 180 Pace, Giovanni: (176) Padova . Padua Padua: 26, 195, 216 Padus (river): 15 Palagruža: 31 Paleotti, Gabriele: 193, 207 Palermo: 151 Pan: 203–(205), 211 Pannonia: 17, 39, 44, 49, 73, 76 Panonija . Pannonia Papis, Giuseppe: 173 Parace: 98 Parentino, Bernardo: (194) Pariati, Pietro: 151 Paride: 206 Parigi . Paris Parigi, Giulio: 273 Paris: 115, 118, (142), 169, 195, 197, 208 Pariz . Paris Parma: 200 Paros: 33 Partenopa . Partenope Partenope (regina): 163, 170, 174, 182, 184–185 Partenope (sirena): 163, 166, 169, 171–173, 183, 185 Pasquini, Giovanni Claudio: 151 Passau: 216 Passe, Crispijn I de: 267–268, 276 Patin, Charles: 224 Pausanias: (243) Pécs (Hungary): 142 Peisander of Laranda: 17 Peisinoe: 166 Pelej . Peleus Peleo . Peleus Peleus (father of Achilles): 14, 20, 92–94, 97–100, (120) Pelia . Pelias Pelias: 13, 20, 198, 209, 266, 268, 270–272 Pelion: 13, 94, 98 Peloponnese: 13, 15, 26–27 Pergolesi, Giovanni Battista: (140), 174 Pericle: 172 Perigune: (128) Perino del Vaga: 200 Perrucci, Andrea: 173 Persefone . Persephone Perseo . Perseus Persephone: 50, 164–165 Perseus: 43, 131–133, 136–138, 140– 141, 144, 148, 150, 154–159, 160 Persiani, Orazio: (120) Perzej . Perseus Phaeacians: 88 Phaedra: (128) Pharos: 33 Pharsalus: 98 Phasis (river): 14, 93–94 Philip, Prince of Hesse-Darmstadt: 136 Philoctetes: 25, 27 Phineus: 132 Phrixus . Phryxus Phryxo . Phryxus Phryxus: 13, 85, 262 Piacenza: 151 Pignoria, Lorenzo: 244 Pillars of Hercules (Gibraltar): 14 Pindar: 13–15 Pio di Savoia, Ascanio: 151 Pio IV: 193 Pirro: 203 Pisa: 25 Pisander of Laranda: 213 Platone (Plato): 164 Plinij Starejši . Pliny the Elder Plinio: 167 Pliny the Elder: 16, 245–246 Ploca, Cape: 31, 33 Plotino: 167 Pluto: 244 Plutone: (202) Podlog: 57 Poetovio: 57, 73 Polidoro da Caravaggio: 200 Polisso: 114 Pollarolo, Antonio: 139 Pollux: 44, 64 Pontano, Giovanni: 170, 185 Porfirio: 167 Porpora, Nicola: 115, 118, 135, 139– 140, 147–148, 154, 160 Porta, Giovanni: 134–135, 139, 144– 145, 154, 160 Poseidon: 32, 132, (202); see also /glej tudi Neptune Posidone . Poseidon Posillipo: 163, 170, 172 Predieri, Luca Antonio: 151 Priam: (23) Priscianus . Spectatius Promontory of Diomedes: 31 ProsperoFelice,InfantediSpagna:172 Pseudo-Aristotle: 27 Psyche (opera): 133, 136, 153 Ptolemaic court: 83 Puglia . Apulia Pylades: 41, 51, 64 Pylians (Pylos): 24 Quesintuu: 169 Raffaello: 204 Ran: 167 Red Sea: 14 Remo . Remus Remus: 43, 191 Rhenus (river; now Rhein): 16 Rhodanus (river; now Rhône): 15, 16 Rhodians: 27 Rhomus: 32 Ripa, Caesare . Ripa, Cesare Ripa,Cesare:200,242,263–(264),276 Robba, Francesco: 238–242, 244–248, 252–254, 257–258 Roberti, Ercole de’: 195 Rodope: 104, 113 Roma . Rome Rome: 17, 25–26, 32–33, 46, 109, 135, 137, 166, 174, 193, 201, 203, 205–206, 223 Romolo . Romulus Romulus: 17, 43, 136, 153, 191 Rosa, G. di: 151 Rosmira: 174–175 Rossane: (121) Rossi, Michelangelo: 151 Rossini, Gioachino: 115–116, 118 Rusticius Albinus: 65 Rusticius Tutorius, 65 Salomon, Bernhard: 267 Salzburg: 215, 218 Sancia, Giovannella: 171 Sansovino, Jacopo: 202, 213, (247) Santippe: 111 Sarri, Domenico: 151 Sarro, Domenico Natale: 173–175, 185 Sassano, Matteo (Matteuccio): 171 Saturno: 201–202, 205, 212 Satyrus (and Maenads): 44–46, 48 Sava . Savus Savinja (river): 58, 61, 68, 70, 73, 80 Savus (river; now Sava): 16, 68, 239– 241, 246, 257 Scarlatti, Alessandro: 173 Scarlatti, Domenico: (140) Schönleben, Janez Ludvik . Schönleben, Johann Ludwig Schönleben, Joannes Ludovicus . Schönleben, Johann Ludwig Schönleben, Johann Ludwig: 216–221, (225)–228, 230–233, 237–238, 245–246, 248–250, 256, 261 Scylla: 16 Scythia: 213 Segesta/Siscia: 16–17 Seggau, Schloss Seggau: 42–44Šempeter: 38–51, 53, 57–80 Septimia Iusta: 65 SeptimiusSeverus(Romanemperor):65 Servius: 273 Šešce: 57, 70 Severano, Giovanni: 223 Severus, Alexander (Roman emperor): Šibenik: 31 Sicilia . Sicily Sicily: 14, 16, 25, 166 Sileno . Silenus Silenus: 64, 205 Siren(s): 84, 163–172, 177, 179, 181–182 Sireno: 164, 178 Sirin: 169 Siris: 25 Siscia . Segesta Slovenia: 57, 66 Slovenija . Slovenia Sophocles: 14, 25–26, 273 Sorrento: 166, 183 Sozomen:17, 213, 215–216, 218, 220, 245, 256 Sozomenus . Sozomen Spagna: 172–173, 185 Španija . Spagna Spartans: 26 Spectatii: 59, 64–65, 67–68 Spectatius Cervius: 65 Spectatius, C. Finitus: 65 Spectatius,C. Priscianus:38,40–46,65 Spectatius, C. Secundinus: 59, 65, 67–68 Sredozemlje . Mediterranean St. Johann near Herberstein: 48 Stampiglia, Silvio: 173–175, 185 Statutius Secundianus: 59 Stazio, Papino: 106–109, 111, (112), 113–114 Stazio: 170 Strabo: 14, 16, 24–26, 31–32, 170 Strabone . Strabo Strife: 87 Strongoli: 174 Summonte, Giovannantonio: 170, 185 Summonte, Pietro: 171 Susanna: 191 Sybaris (river): 25, 27 Sybaris (and Sybarites): 25–27 Syracuse: 32–33 Tamigi (river; now Thames): 165 Tanais (river): 14–15 Taras: 26 Tarquinio il Superbo: 191 Tasso, Torquato: 172 Taufferer, Maximilian Anton Ignaz von: 244 Tauride (island) . Tauris Tauris: 41, 64, 111 Tazio: 136, 153 Tebe: 103, 107, 117 Telsinoe: 166 Teodosio: 172 Tergeste: 16 Tersicore: 164 Teseo . Theseus Teseo: 135 Tessalia . Thessaly Teti . Thetis Tetida . Thetis Tezej . Theseus Thalnitscher, Alexius Sigismund: 262, 264–266, 276 Thalnitscher, Johann Gregor: 221–230, 232–238, 240, 246, 248, 250, 256, 262–263, 265, 276 Thalnitscher, Johannes Baptist: 218, 237 Theocritus: 92–93 Theon: 273 Theseus: 14, 20, 91, 94–95, 98–100, 128, (129) Thessalia . Thessaly Thessaly: 13–15, 25, 170, 220 Thetis: 92–94, 97–100, (120) Thoas: 90 Thyri, Léonard: 273 Tibaldi, Pellegrino: 192 Timaeus: 14, 25 Timagetus: 14–15 Timavus (river): 16, 31 Titone: 121 Toante: 104–111, 113–115, 117–118 Tortona, Teodoro: 151 Tottola, Leone: 115–116, 118 Trabaci, Giovan Maria: 172 Tritons: 49 Troja . Troy Trojane . Atrans Trojans: 25–27 Trost, Andreas: 234–235, 250–251, 261, 263, 267, 276 Trost, Andrej . Trost, Andreas Troy: 23–25, 31–32, 43, 264–265 Tutoria Avita: 65 Tydeus: 27 Tyrrhenian Sea: 25 Ulisse . Odysseus Ulysses . Odysseus Umantuu: 169 Umbrians: 31 Unterkrain . Lower Carniola Upper Carniola: 240, 257 Upper Pannonia: 214 Utica: (131) Valerio Flacco . Valerius Flaccus Valerius Flaccus: 13, 106, 108–111, 114, 273 Valesius, Henricus . Valois, Henri de Valois, Henri de: 216 Valvasor, Janez Vajkard . Valvasor, Johann Weichard Valvasor, Johann Weichard: 17, 228– 232, 234, 250–251, 256, 259–262, 266–268, 271, 276 Vatican: 135 Venere . Aphrodite Veneti: 26 Venetia . Venice Venezia . Venice Venice: 17, 127–128, (129), 133–134, 136–137, 139, (140), 150–151, 160, 174–175, 195, 202–203, 244 Venus . Aphrodite Verchnick . Vrhnika Vergilij . Virgilio Vergine Maria: 169–170 Vien, Joseph: 29 Vienna: 117, (131), 151, (176), 216, 239, 268 Villanova, Luigia: (176) Vinci, Leonardo: 174–175, 185 Vindonii: 42, 51, 59, 61–62 Vindonius, C. Successus: 61–62 Virgil . Virgilio Virgilio: 26, 170, 276 Virunum: 42 Vitulus . Ennius Vitulus Vivaldi, Antonio: 134–135, 138–139, 144–145, 149, 154, 160, 175, 185 Vrhnika: 16, 20, 220, 257; see also / glej tudi Nauportus Vulcano: (210), 206 Vulpiani, Francesco: 151 Wagensberg: 267, 276 Wien . Vienna Xenophanes of Kolophon: 23 Xenophon: (96) Zagreb: (259) Zelmire: 115–116, 118 Zeus: (23), 89, 132, 194 Zgornje Grušovlje: 57 Ziani, Marc’Antonio: 151 Zosimus: 17, 213–215, 218, 245, 256, 265 AUTHORS / AVTORJI Maria Cecilia D’Ercole Université de Paris I-Sorbonne, Paris, France ceciliadercole@noos.fr Dinko Fabris Universitŕ di Basillicata, Potenza, Italia fabris@teseo.it Stanko Kokole Znanstvenoraziskovalno središce Koper, Univerza na Primorskem, Koper, Slovenija stanko.kokole@guest.arnes.si Gabrielle Kremer Österreichische Akademie der Wissenschaften, Wien, Österreich gabrielle.kremer@oeaw.ac.at Irena Lazar Pokrajinski muzej Celje, Celje, Slovenija irena.lazar@guest.arnes.si Marko Marincic Filozofska fakulteta, Univerza v Ljubljani, Ljubljana, Slovenija marko.marincic@guest.arnes.si Andreja Maver (postgraduate student / podiplomska študentka) Filozofska fakulteta, Uni-verza v Ljubljani, Ljubljana, Slovenija andreja_maver@yahoo.com Barbara Murovec Znanstvenoraziskovalni center SAZU, Ljubljana, Slovenija bamurovec@zrc-sazu.si Giovanna Perini Universitŕ degli studi Urbino, Urbino, Italia giovanna.perini@uniurb.it Renato Raffaelli Universitŕ degli Studi Urbino, Urbino, Italia civ_ant@lettere.uniurb.it Hendrik Schulze Universität Heidelberg, Heidelberg, Deutschland hendrik.schulze@urz.uni-heidelberg.de Marjeta Šašel Kos Znanstvenoraziskovalni center SAZU, Ljubljana, Slovenija mkos@zrc-sazu.si Michael Talbot University of Liverpool, Liverpool, Great Britain mtalbot@liverpool.ac.uk ABSTRACTSAND KEYWORDS IZVLECKI IN KLJUCNE BESEDE Marjeta ŠAŠEL KOS A Few Remarks Concerning the archaiologia of Nauportus and Emona: The Argonauts The story of the Argonauts is summarized in order to understand how and why it could have been applied to Nauportus (modern Vrhnika) and Emona (Ljubljana), two ancient settlements situated along the Route of the Argonauts, an old com­mercial route linking the Black Sea area to the south-eastern Alps and the Adriatic. According to the legend transmitted by Pliny the Elder, Jason was the founder of Nauportus, from where the ship Argo was transported across the Alps. Following the decline of Nauportus, the more important town of Emona became associated with the Argonauts. KEYWORDS: Adriatic Sea, Nauportus, Emona, Roman period, Argonauts, Jason Argonavti: miticna preteklost Navporta in Emone Vkratkem prispevku o pomenu argonavtov za slovenski prostor je najprej povzeta zgodba o argonavtih, predvsem o njihovem povratku iz Kolhide, da bi bilo mogoce bolje razumeti kako in zakaj so jo zaceli povezovati z Navportom in Emono, dvema anticnima naselbinama ob jantarski poti in hkrati ob “poti argonavtov”, prastari trgovski povezavi med deželami ob Crnem morju ter jugovzhodnoalpskim in jadranskim prostorom. Po legendi, ki je ohranjena pri Pliniju Starejšem, je Jazon ustanovilNavport,odkodersoladjoArgopreneslicezAlpedomorja.KojeNavport po ustanovitvi rimske kolonije Emone izgubil pomen, so legendo o argonavtih povezovali Emono. Kljucne besede: Jadransko morje, Navport, Emona, rimska doba, argonavti, Jazon Maria Cecilia D’ERCOLE Back from Troy: Diomedes and Other Heroes in the Ancient Mediterranean The numerous Greek legends about the journeys of the Greek heroes returning from Troy to their homeland make up a rich epic heritage taking in many different regions of the Mediterranean. Although these myths were all the fruit of imagination, they influenced very concretely the perception of history, drawing various unrelated Mediterranean peoples into a net of invented kinship. The case of Diomedes is par­ ticularly emblematic. He was worshipped on both Adriatic coasts as the founder of cities and of local dynasties. The legend of Diomedes originated in the archaic age, changing over time and surviving into the Roman age. It can be interpreted in terms of changing political situations and placed within a historical framework. KEYWORDS: Adriatic Sea, Greco-Roman period, Homeric cycle, Diomedes, coloni­zation, iconography, mythology Nazaj iz Troje: Diomed in drugi heroji staroveškega Mediterana Številne grške legende, ki so zrasle okoli potovanj grških junakov iz Troje nazaj v domovino,sopredstavljalebogatoepskoizrocilo,vkaterosobilevkljucenerazlicne sredozemske pokrajine. Ceprav so bili ti miti zgolj sad domišljije, so vendarle imeli zelo konkretne vplive na dojemanje zgodovine; prek njih so se povezala v mrežo izmišljenihsorodstevrazlicnasredozemskaljudstva,kisosibilapovsemtuja.Primer Diomeda je v tem pogledu še posebej znacilen. Castili so ga na obeh jadranskih obalah kot ustanovitelja mest in lokalnih dinastij. Legenda o Diomedu je nastala v arhajski dobi, s casom se je spreminjala in preživela v rimsko obdobje. Avtorica jo je umestila v zgodovinski okvir. Kljucne besede: Jadransko morje, grško-rimska doba, Homerski ciklus, Diomed, kolonizacija, ikonografija, mitologija Gabrielle KREMER Mythology and Sepulchral Architecture on the Example of Roman Tomb Monu­ments in Noricum and Pannonia Roman funerary monuments reflect ancient society and its individuals. In particular, the figurative decoration of aediculae is a precious source in a region where written documents are scarce. In the Roman provinces of Noricum and Pannonia, as well as in Gallia and Germaniae, mythological scenes on funerary monuments are very common, in comparison with other regions of the Roman Empire. The architectural context of these reliefs, their place within the monument, the sequences of figura­tive representations and the repetition of certain iconographic types furnish valuable evidence for the interpretation of their meaning. Whereas the standard decoration merely reflects the Mediterranean origins of this type of monument, some narra­tive reliefs seem to have been chosen intentionally by the owners because of their symbolic meaning. KEYWORDS: Noricum, Pannonia, Roman period, funerary monuments, architecture, mythology, symbolism Mitologija in nagrobna arhitektura na primeru rimskih nagrobnih spomenikov v Noriku in Panoniji Rimski nagrobni spomeniki so odsev anticne družbe in njenih posameznikov; v deželah, kjer pisanih virov skoraj ni, je govorica figuralno okrašenih nagrobnih edi­kul še posebej dragocena. Vrimskih provincah Noriku in Panoniji, pa tudi v Galiji in Germanijah, so v primerjavi z drugimi deželami rimskega imperija mitološke upodobitve na nagrobnikih zelo pogoste. Za razlago njihovega pomena so zelo po­membni arhitekturni kontekst teh reliefov, njihovo mesto na spomeniku, zaporedje upodobitev in ponavljanje nekaterih ikonografskih elementov. Nekaj tega okrasja, ki je sredozemskega izvora, ima predvsem dekorativni znacaj, medtem ko so bili nekateri pripovedni reliefi zaradi simbolnega znacaja namenoma izbrani kot okras nagrobnih spomenikov. Kljucne besede: Norik, Panonija, rimska doba, nagrobni spomeniki, arhitektura, mitologija, simbolika Irena LAZAR The Roman Necropolis in Šempeter: The History of Research Šempeter lies twelve kilometres west of Celje. During the Roman period members of the municipal aristocracy of Celeia owned estates in the valley and erected their tombs in Šempeter. The Roman burial ground lay along the northern side of the road Emona–Atrans–Celeia and it stretched for over a kilometre. The cemetery was separated from the Savinja river only by the road, and during the floods in the second half of the 3rd century (c. 267 AD) it was destroyed. The necropolis was discovered by accident in 1952, the investigations continuing up to 1956. By 1959 four reconstructed monuments had been erected. Excavations of the eastern part of the necropolis in 1964 revealed 96 graves and a Roman road. The monuments date from the end of the 1st to the first half of the 3rd century AD. KEYWORDS: Noricum, Šempeter, Celeia, Roman period, necropolis, tombs, my­ thology Rimska nekropola v Šempetru: zgodovina raziskav ŠempeterležidvanajstkilometrovzahodnoodCeljavSavinjskidolini.Vrimskidobi so imeli tu posestva mestni veljaki iz Celeje, ki so si tu postavili grobnice. Grobišce je ležalo vzdolž severne strani ceste Emona–Atrans–Celeia in je bilo dolgo vec kot kilometer. Od Savinje ga je locevala samo cesta in ob poplavi v drugi polovici 3. stoletja je bilo uniceno. Do odkritja nekropole je prišlo leta 1952; raziskave so trajale do leta 1956. Leta 1959 so bile postavljene štiri rekonstruirane grobnice. Raziskave vzhodnega dela nekropole leta 1964 so odkrile še 96 grobov in rimsko cesto. Spomeniki spadajo v cas od konca 1. do prve polovice 3. stoletja. Kljucne besede: Norik, Šempeter, Celeia, rimska doba, nekropola, grobnice, mi-tologija Andreja MAVER The Arcade Tomb of Šempeter in Savinjska dolina, Slovenia The paper presents the Arcade Tomb, the fifth tomb of the Šempeter cemetery so far known. The attempted reconstruction shows a tomb comprising a socle with an accentuated vertical division of relief fields and an open upper storey with a canopy covered by a gabled roof standing in its interior. In form, this is an aedicula tomb with several intercolumniations and a portico. Its estimated height is over 9,60 m. On the basis of its decoration, the tomb can be dated to the end – perhaps the very end – of the second century AD. KEYWORDS: Noricum, Šempeter, Roman period, archaeology, funerary architecture Arkadna grobnica iz Šempetra v Savinjski dolini V prispevku je predstavljena arkadna grobnica, peta do zdaj znana grobnica s šempetrskega grobišca. Poskus njene rekonstrukcije prikazuje grobnico, sestavljeno iz zaprtega podstavka s poudarjeno navpicno delitvijo reliefnih polj in odprtega zgornjega dela z baldahinom v notranjosti, krito z dvokapno streho. Po obliki spada mededikulezvecinterkolumnijiinstebrnimpredprostorom,katerevišinajeocenjena na najmanj 9,60 m. Na podlagi okrasa je datirana v pozno 2. stoletje n. š. oziroma na konec tega stoletja. Kljucne besede: Norik, Šempeter, rimska doba, arheologija, grobna arhitektura Marko MARINCIC The Poetics of the Argonaut Voyage: Shamanism, Sorcery and Art The article focuses on two thematic impulses of decisive importance for the survival of the Argonaut myth in literature, music and art: the transcendent power of song personified in the character of Orpheus and the talismanic magic represented by the Golden Fleece. It is argued that Apollonius Rhodius (Argonautics) uses these two archetypalthemesassymbolicvehiclesforhisliterarydialoguewiththearchaicmyth. Likewise, Catullus (The Wedding of Peleus and Thetis, C. 64) evokes the theme of Argonaut magic as a focal point of his intertextual dialogue with Apollonius Rho-dius and as a point of departure for a literary experiment that playfully explores the phenomenon of the mental perception of image and sound in a written text. KEYWORDS: classical literature, Apollonius Rhodius, C. Valerius Catullus, Argonauts, Orpheus, Medea, Ariadne, ecphrasis Poetika argonavtske odprave: šamanizem, magija in umetnost Prispevek je osredotocen na dve tematski spodbudi, ki sta odlocilno zaznamovali poznejšo usodo argonavtskega mita v književnosti, glasbi in likovni umetnosti: transcendentno moc pesmi, ki jo pooseblja Orfejev lik, in magijo talismanov, ki jo predstavlja zlato runo. Pokazati skuša, da ti dve arhetipski temi v epu Apolonija Rodoškega (Argonavtika)ucinkujetakotsimbolnaposrednikanjegovegaliterarnega dialoga z arhaicnim mitom. Tudi Katul (Svatba Peleja in Tetide, c. 64) ju nenehno priklicuje v bralcevo zavest kot žarišcno tocko svojega medbesedilnega dialoga z Apolonijem Rodoškim in kot izhodišce literarnega eksperimenta, ki se ucinkovito poigrava s pojavom mentalne percepcije slike in zvoka v zapisanem besedilu. Kljucne besede: klasicna literatura, Apollonius Rhodius, C. Valerius Catullus, argonavti, Orfej, Medeja, Ariadna, opisi likovnih umetnin Renato RAFFAELLI From Ipsipile to Zelmira Taking as its starting point Metastasio’s Issipile (Vienna, 1732), the paper examines themainsourcestohaveemphasizedthevirtueofthisfemalefigureappearingintwo important classical legends: the Argonauts and the Seven against Thebes. The same virtue informs Metastasio’s character; the paper attempts to identify the accounts, ancient and medieval, on which the dramatist drew for his own version. In turn, Me­tastasio’s drama served as the model for Dormont de Belloy’s Zelmire (Paris, 1762), which influenced Leone Tottola’s libretto for Rossini’s Zelmira (Naples, 1822). KEYWORDS: literature, Issipile, Pietro Mestastasio, classical literature, librettology, mythology, Zelmira Od Hipsipile do Zelmire Clanek v izhodišcu obravnava Metastasievo Hipsipilo (Dunaj, 1732) in glavne vire, ki poudarjajo vrline naslovne ženske figure, ki sicer nastopa v dveh pomembnih klasicnih zgodbah: v Argonavtih in v Sedmerci proti Tebam. Enake vrline vejejo tudi iz Metastasievega znacajskega prikaza junakinje; avtor razprave skuša identificirati klasicne in srednjeveške vire, po katerih se je za svojo zgodbo navdihoval dramatik. MetastasievadramajepoznejesamaslužilakotmodelzaZelmiro, francoskega avtorja Dormonta de Belloyja (Pariz, 1762), ta pa je vplivala na libreto LeonejaTottola za Rossinijevo istoimensko opero (Neapelj, 1822). Kljucne besede: književnost, Hipsipila, Pietro Metastasio, klasicna književnost, libretologija, mitologija, Zelmira Hendrik SCHULZE Dramaturgical Setting, Representation of Characters and the Mythological Basis in Giacinto Andrea Cicognini’s and Francesco Cavalli’s Giasone Despite its unlikely subject, Cicognini’s and Cavalli’s opera Il Giasone (1649) was a huge success. In dealing with the problems of the subject such as adhering to the unities of drama, the high number of different characters and the inappropriateness of the plot, Cicognini managed to preserve a surprising amount of the original myth by intelligent use of 17th-century stereotypes. Characters such as Giasone (Jason), Ercole (Hercules) or Medea fulfil a certain stock-type characteristic by emphasising on some of their mythologically defined features. Cicognini translates these in pat­terns of behaviour, language, and relationships between characters. KEYWORDS: musicology, Venice, opera, 17th century, dramaturgy, libretto, choice of subject Dramaturgija, predstavitev znacajev in mitološka osnova za opero Jazon Giacinta Andree Cicogninija in Francesca Cavallija Kljub neverjetni vsebini je bila Cavallijeva opera Jazon (Il Giasone, 1649) na Cicogninijevo besedilo izjemna uspešnica. Ceprav je imel Cicognini probleme s prilagajanjem vsebine dramskim enotam, z velikim številom nastopajocih oseb in z za opero nasploh neustreznim potekom dogajanja, je z vešco uporabo stereotipov literature17.stoletjauspelohranitipresenetljivovelikdeležizvirnegamita.Liki,kot so Jazon, Herkul ali Medeja, pokrivajo dolocene osnovne znacilnosti, ki se navezu­jejo na njihove ustaljene mitološke poteze. Cicognini je te poteze mojstrsko povezal znacilne vedenjske vzorce ter jih predstavil z govorom in odnosi med osebami. Kljucne besede: muzikologija, Benetke, opera, 17. stoletje, dramaturgija, libreto, izbor tematike Michael TALBOT Mythology in the Service of Eulogy: The Serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) In 1726 a society of Venetian nobles treated Cardinal Pietro Ottoboni, revisiting his native city after a long exile, to a five-voice serenata, Andromeda liberata, with text by Vincenzo Cassaniandmusicby agroup of fivecomposers,whoincludedVivaldi, Albinoni and Porta. The libretto uses the myth of Andromeda’s rescue and courtship by Perseus as an allegory for Venice’s reconciliation with Ottoboni and with France, whose interests he represented at the Vatican. The study analyses Cassani’s poetic styleandtherespectivestylesoftheunnamedcomposers,whowereeachresponsible for the arias of a single character. KEYWORDS: musicology, Pietro Ottoboni, Antonio Vivaldi, Tomaso Albinoni, Giovanni Porta, Andromeda, serenata Mitologija v službi evlogije: serenata Andromeda liberata (1726) Leta 1726 je visoka beneška družba kardinala Pietra Ottobonija, ki se je po dolgem izgnanstvu vrnil v rodno mesto, razveselila s petglasno serenato Osvobojena An­dromeda (Andromeda liberata) na besedilo Vincenza Cassanija in z glasbo skupine skladateljev, med katerimi so bili Vivaldi, Albinoni in Porta. Libreto uporablja mit o rešitvi Andromede in dvorjenju Perzeja, ki je pravzaprav alegorija sprave Benetk z Ottobonijem in s Francijo, katere interese je zastopal v Vatikanu. Študija analizira Cassanijevpesniškisloginskladateljskanacelaneimenovanihskladateljev,odkaterih je vsak napisal arije za posamezne nastopajoce osebe. Kljucne besede: muzikologija, Pietro Ottoboni, Antonio Vivaldi, Tomaso Albinoni, Giovanni Porta, Andromeda, serenata Dinko FABRIS Partenope from the Siren to the Queen: The Musical Myth of Naples The myth of the foundation of Naples introduces the singing Siren Partenope, one of threesistersdefeatedbyUlysses,whowastheonlymortalabletoresisttheirsinging. An opera entitled Partenope wasperformedinNaplesin1699,usingalibrettowritten bySilvioStampiglia.However,itisnotquitetheSirenofthisnamewhoappearsinits plot, since the protagonist is the Greek virgin queen Partenope. Stampiglia’s libretto enjoyed great success. It was set to music by a number of important composers, who includedLeonardoVinci(Venice,1725)andGeorgeFridericHandel(London,1730), all paying homage to Naples and to the myth of the Siren-Queen. KEYWORDS: musicology, Partenope, Sirens, Naples, musical myth, opera, Leonardo Vinci Partenopa od sirene do kraljice: glasbeni mit o Neaplju Mit o ustanovitvi Neaplja govori o pevki sireni Partonopi, eni od treh sester, ki jih je premagal Odisej, ko se je uprl moci njihovega petja. Leta 1699 so v Neaplju prvic izvedli opero Partenopa na besedilo Silvia Stampiglia. Vendar glavna oseba v operi ni sirena, temvec grška deviška kraljica Partenopa. Stampigliev libreto je bil zelo uspešen in ga je uglasbilo vec pomembnih skladateljev, med katerimi sta bila tudi Leonardo Vinci (Benetke, 1725) in Georg Friedrich Händel (London, 1730), ki sta s tem mitu o ustanovitvi Neaplja dala svoj glasbeni poklon. Kljucne besede: muzikologija, Partenopa, sirene, Neapelj, glasbeni mit, opera, Leonardo Vinci Giovanna PERINI The Fresco Cycle in the Palazzo Fava, Bologna, with the Story of Jason Painted by Carracci This paper links the choice of the subject-matter for the Carracci frescoes in Palazzo Fava in Bologna to a contemporary episode in the lives of distant relatives of both the patron, Filippo Fava, and his wife. In addition, it identifies the visual sources for twoepisodesinthefrescoesastwopanelsfromadismemberedQuattrocentonuptial chest formerly in the Giustiniani collection. It also identifies a number of classical and modern statues (by Michelangelo and Jacopo Sansovino) as sources for some of the monochrome termini between the scenes and draws attention to some intriguing mistakes in the depiction of ancient musical instruments. KEYWORDS: art history, Carraccis, Palazzo Fava, frescoes, Jason Niz prizorov slikarjev Carracci iz Jazonove zgodbe v bolonjskem Palazzo Fava Vclankuavtoricaopozarjanaverjetnopovezavomedizbirosnovizafreskeslikarjev Carracci v Palazzo Fava v Bologni in socasnim dogodkom v življenju daljnih sorod­nikov obeh narocnikov, Filippa Fave in njegove soproge. Identificira tudi slikovni vir za dva prizora na freskah v tabelnih slikah, ki sta prvotno pripadali porocni skrinji, nekoc hranjeni v Giustinianijevi zbirki. Navaja tudi vrsto tako anticnih ka­kor renesancnih kipov (Michelangelo, Jacopo Sansovino) kot pobud za enobarvno slikane like poganskih bogov, ki locijo posamezne prizore, in opozarja na nekatere zanimive nedoslednosti pri upodobitvah anticnih glasbil. Kljucne besede: umetnostna zgodovina, Carracciji, Palazzo Fava, freske, Jazon Stanko KOKOLE Some Seventeenth- and Eighteenth-Century Appropriations and Adaptations of the Myth of the Argonauts in Ljubljana: From Texts to Images The paper examines some of the early-modern thematic appropriations of the Argo- nautic foundation myth of Emona (the Roman colonia on the site of Ljubljana) by focusing on J. L. Schleben’s Aemona vindicata (1674) and Carniolia antiqua et nova (1680–81), J. G. Dolnicar’s Antiquitates Urbis Labacensis and J. J. Gladic’s Vetus et Nova Carnioliae Ecclesiastica memoria (c. 1714–25). Dolnicar’s Curia Labacensis (1680) and J. W. Valvasor’s Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain (1689) offer insights into the first attempts at pictorial representation of the fable that was also expressly evoked by the statue of Neptune (1675) adorning Ljubljana’s com­munal fountain. On the same site, the same foundation tale may have been reflected in the original iconographic ‘programme’for Francesco Robba’s “Fountain of the Three Carniolan Rivers” (1743–51). KEYWORDS: history of art, classical tradition, literary sources, iconography; Ljubljana, Emona, foundation myth, Jason, Argonauts; Ioannes Ludovicus Schön­leben, Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Johann Weichard Valvasor, Ioannes Geor­gius Gladich; Johann Khumerstainer, “Neptune Fountain”; Francesco Robba, “Fountain of the Three Carniolan Rivers” Nekaj ljubljanskih priredb in preobrazb zgodbe o argonavtih v 17. in 18. stoletju: od besed k podobam Razprava obravnava nekatere zgodnjenovoveške priredbe in preobrazbe argonavt­skegamitaoustanovitviEmone,rimskepredhodnicedanašnjeLjubljane.Osredotoca se na spise Aemona vindicata (1674) in Carniolia antiqua et nova (1680–1681) J. L. Schlebna ter Antiquitates Urbis Labacensis (1693) J. G. Dolnicarja in Vetus et Nova Carnioliae Ecclesiastica memoria (ok.1714–1725)J.J.Gladica.Dolnicarjeva Curia Labacensis (1680) in Valvasorjeva Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain (1689) nuditavpogledvprveposkuselikovneupodobitveJazonainnjegovihtovarišev.Saga o argonavtih je bila evocirana tudi v kipu Neptuna (1675) z vodnjaka na Mestnem trgu; zato se ne zdi nemogoce, da bi prav bajka o ustanovitvi Emone botrovala tudi prvotnemu ikonografskemu programu Robbovega vodnjaka (1743–1751), ki je na istem mestu zamenjal Neptunovega. Kljucne besede: umetnostna zgodovina, dedišcina antike, pisni viri, ikonografija; Ljubljana, Emona, mit o ustanovitvi, Jazon, argonavti; Janez Ludvik Schönleben, Janez Gregor Dolnicar, Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Janez Jurij Gladic; Janez Khumer-stainer, “Neptunov vodnjak”; Francesco Robba, “Vodnjak treh kranjskih rek” Barbara MUROVEC Graphic Depictions of the Story of Jason in the Light of Johann Weichard Valvasor’s Activity as a Publisher and as a Print Collector The paper discusses some graphic presentations of the story of Jason and the Argonauts. Initially, two prints are presented (The Building of Aemona in: Johann Weichard Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzogthums Crain, 1689, and the Personification of Aemona in: Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Epitome Chronologica, 1714) which are directly related to the site of modern Ljubljana, whose mythological builders were the Argonauts. In addition, the paper examines two graphic cycles from the early modern era that likewise feature the story of Jason and can be linked with Valvasor both as a publisher (Metamorphoses, 1680) and as a collector of prints (Album X of the Valvasor Print Collection, containing secular narrative cycles, with book illustrations, among them Liure de la Conqueste de la Toison d’or, 1563). KEYWORDS: history of art, graphic arts, collecting, iconography, Jason, Argonauts, Metamorphoses, Ljubljana, Emona, Johann Weichard Valvasor, Johann Koch, Andreas Trost, Alexius Sigismund Thalnitscher, Johann Gregor Thalnitscher, René Boyvin, Léonard Thiry, Jacques Gohory Graficne upodobitve zgodbe o Jazonu v luci izdajateljskega in zbirateljskega delovanja Janeza Vajkarda Valvasorja V prispevku se avtorica posveca graficnim upodobitvam zgodbe o Jazonu in argonavtih. Najprej predstavlja dve grafiki (Gradnja Emone v: Johann Weichard Valvasor, Die Ehre deß Hertzoghtums Crain, 1689, in Personifikacija Emone / Ljubljane v: Ioannes Gregorius Thalnitscher, Epitome Chronologica, 1714), ki se konkretno navezujeta na prostor današnje Ljubljane, katere mitološki graditelji so argonavti. V nadaljevanju pa se osredotoca na graficna cikla zgodnjega novega veka, v katera je vkljucena zgodba o Jazonu in ki ju lahko povežemo z Valvasorjem kot izdajateljem (Metamorfoze, 1680) in kot zbirateljem graficnih listov (X. zvezek Valvasorjeve graficne zbirke s profanimi narativnimi cikli, med njimi tudi knjižne ilustracije v Liure de la Conqueste de la Toison d’or, 1563). Kljucne besede: umetnostna zgodovina, grafika, zbirateljstvo, ikonografija, Jazon, argonavti, Matamorfoze, Ljubljana, Emona, Janez Vajkard Valvasor, Janez Koch, Andrej Trost, Aleš Žiga Dolnicar, Janez Gregor Dolnicar, René Boyvin, Léonard Thiry, Jacques Gohory