004

  • Four Doves Perched on a Bowl

  • 300-400 CE
  • Artist unknown, after Sosus of Pergamum (Greek 2nd century BCE)
  • Mosaic of lifted ancient tesserae fragments, restored with ancient tesserae, mounted in plaster
  • 46.8 x 45.4 cm., 18-1/2 x 17-7/8"
  • Catherine Carter Goebel, Paul A. Anderson Chair in the Arts Purchase, Paul A. Anderson Art History Collection, Augustana College, 2003.13

Essay by Thomas R. Banks, Professor Emeritus of Classics and Dorothy J. Parkander Professor Emeritus in Literature

Not every proud household in the Roman world could afford original masterpieces. So-called "imitations" or "copies" or—less prejudicially—echoes of famous classics reverberated across time and territory into the provinces. There, despite remoteness and limited finances, locally prominent hosts still wanted to display their taste. The echoes did that for them.

The dove mosaic before us is such an echo. The provenance of these doves on the large bowl is, like that of the peacock Pavo on the adjoining page, a mystery. The date would be around the fourth century CE, the place unknown (Paraskevaides Museum). But the classical model being emulated is clear enough. In this case, the classic (which caused more than one echo) was created in the second century BCE—some 500 years before ours. The original is famously recorded by Pliny the Elder in his Natural History (36.62). The artist was one Sosus of Pergamum, Pliny says, and Sosus, renowned for the verisimilitude of his images, created a mosaic where one dove drank from a party goblet (cantharus), its shadow darkening the water, while other doves sunned themselves and preened on the lip of the bowl. The mosaic was still famous in Pliny's time (died 79 CE), some two hundred years later.

The best-known echo of Sosus' work was stunningly loud. A masterpiece itself, it emanated from the palatial villa of the emperor Hadrian (emperor 117-138 CE). In the eighteenth century, treasure hunters exploring the villa found a Roman "copy" of Sosus' original. (See the Capitoline Museums in Rome.) One might note that this bowl is not exactly Pliny's cantharus. Canthari had upright, fixed, handle loops. Instead this shows a small basin with hinged handle loops. Nor are its attached tripod stubs the typical cantharus stem (Cf. illustrations in Thayer).

Our echo has drooping handle loops similar to that of Hadrian's. Its foot, however, is more like that of Pliny's cantharus, having a goblet-like stem. The shape of the whole is also different. The doves from Hadrian's villa are set in a rectangle. Ours are in a circle. That would make it plausible that the original placement of ours was a typical emblema or centerpiece to a mosaic floor.

That's the classical model and two variations. But what of the meaning? Were doves just doves? Probably not. Doves in antiquity often had associations with goddesses in their romantic aspect: Aphrodite in the Greek world; in Asia Minor (as around the Pergamum of mosaicist Sosus, where the procession began) doves came with Astarte, Semiramis, and the Magna Mater. As for the cantharus, the god Dionysus is often depicted waving one in a spirit of amiable intoxication—though one filled with wine, not water as with the doves (Mikalson). Despite the fourth century dating, the connotations of the image seem more loyal to its pagan origin than evocative of the later, single dove of the Holy Spirit of Christians (Matt. 3:16-17).

In sum, we may well see in this mosaic a focus for a hospitable dining room. The focus suggests an ambiance of educated taste and an appreciation of nature, of tender human emotions, and of the gentler blessings of Dionysus.