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Fourth Annual

BYZANTINE STUDIES CONFERENCE


3-4 November, 1978
University of Michigan, Ann Arbor
ABSTRACTS OF PAPERS
The Byzantine Studies Conference is an annual forum for the presentation and discussion of
papers embodying current research on all aspects of Byzantine history and culture. The Fourth
Annual Conference is dedicated to Professor Paul J. Alexander (1910-1977), whose picture
appears on the cover of these Abstracts. Professor Alexander, who taught most recently at the
University of California at Berkeley and the University of Michigan, was for years one of the
leading exponents of Byzantine Studies in North America. Professor Alexander left an admirable
legacy, both as a scholar and as an individual, and it is a pleasure to dedicate this conference to
him. The Abstracts of Papers is printed from camera-ready copy supplied by the speakers.
Copies are presented to each registered participant, and they are available to libraries and other
interested persons. A five year charter subscription to the Abstracts (covering the years 1975 to
1979) can be ordered for $10. Individual back copies may be purchased for $3. Because the
Byzantine Studies Conference has no permanent staff, please prepay all orders (checks payable
to the Byzantine Studies Conference) and send then to:
Byzantine Studies Conference
c/o Dumbarton Oaks
1703 32nd Street
N.W. Washington, D.C. 20007
Additions or corrections to the BSC mailing list should be sent to the same address.
Timothy E. Gregory
Ohio State University
CONTENTS
I. ROME IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY p. 1
II. BYZANTINE HISTORIOGRAPHY AND LITERATURE p. 6
III. MANUSCRIPTS, MUSIC AND MEDICINE p. 10
IV. HILANDAR MONASTERY ON MT. ATHOS .p. 4
V. HISTORY OF ART p. 20
VI. MIDDLE BYZANTINE HISTORY p. 27
VII. HISTORY OF ART p. 31
VIII. LATE ANTIQUITY: HISTORY AND THEOLOGY p. 36
IX. THEMES IN LATE BYZANTINE HISTORY AND THOUGHT p. 41
OFFICERS AND COMMITTEES OF THE BYZANTINE STUDIES CONFERENCE p. 45
INDEX OF SPEAKERS p. 46
Byzantine Studies Conference.
Abstracts of papers--Byzantine Studies Conference. 1st-1975Madison, Wis. [etc.] Byzantine Studies Conference.
v. 22 cm. annual.
Key title: Abstracts of papers--Byzantine Studies Conference.
ISSN 0147-3387
1. Byzantine Empire--Congresses.
DF501.5.B9a 949.5 77-79346

MARC-S
-1(page numbers refer to the text following the number)
I. ROME IN THE EIGHTH CENTURY
The Eighth-Century Papacy: Some Considerations of Political Theory
David Henry Miller, University of Oklahoma
While the political actions of Roman popes in the eighth century may be described as antiByzantine, the ultimate roots of papal political conceptions were Byzantine, and remained so
through the eighth century. The hostilities between the popes and the emperors in Constantinople
were clearly very deep-seated. The heavy-handed attitudes of some seventh century emperors,
notably Constans II and Justinian II, had clearly eroded both Roman and Central Italian
commitment to the continuing connection with the eastern state. Moreover, the quarrel over the
status of holy icons, and the tax dispute between Leo III and Gregory II, pushed the papacy to the
radical policy of secession from the Byzantine state. The demonstrated inability of the exarch in
Ravenna to prevent or interrupt the Roman Synod of A.D. 731, at which iconoclasm and the
emperor were formally condemned, and the failure of Constantine V to either prevent or disrupt
the Franco-papal alliance of A.D. 754, effectively signified the permanization of the papal
secession. The level of hostility felt towards the emperors was indeed high by the middle of the
century, and, in the words of Pope Paul I, the Byzantines were "nefandissimi Graeci." But, though
there is no doubting the genuineness of the papal rejection of imperial rule during the period, the
papacy was still, in many respects, an institution which operated within a larger Byzantine cultural
context. In especial, the popes thought about political and constitutional issues in a conceptual
context determined by traditional Byzantine political and ecclesiological views. The near identity
of state and church as elements of the respublica Christiana, presided over by an imperial officer
designated by God, and responsible, through the clergy, for his conduct of the affairs of state in a
manner consistent with the best interests of the Christian society, remained a fixed element of
papal thought. While the papacy did refashion its political and ecclesiological convictions along
the lines of Leonine and Gelasian conceptions of the papal office itself, its views remained largely
Byzantine. This fundamentally Byzantine view of the state therefore determined papal reactions
to new situations created by alliance with the Franks. The attempt to articulate a specific view of
kingship as applied to Pepin the Short, was an attempt to place the Frankish king in a Byzantine,
rather than a western, political framework. The attempt to recreate the imperial office in A.D. 800,
was owing to the same motivation.
Papal Historiography and Papal Politics in Eighth-Century Rome
Jane Bishop, Columbia University
During the course of the eighth century the political situation altered drastically for Rom and the
Papacy. Rome began the century under the administration of the Exarch of Ravenna and under
the sovereignty of an Emperor at Constantinople who claimed the right to arrest the Pope or
summon him on demand. It ended it as the
-2capital of an independent state under the sovereignty of the Pope and the protect- ion of the
Kings of the Franks. The Popes, during this process, at first assumed responsibility for their city
and environs only involuntarily as the Emperors proved unable to do so; they continued to hope
for an Imperial return to orthodoxy from Iconoclasm and Imperial aid against the threatening
Lombards. But later, they began to adopt the policy of deliberately controlling their own political

destinies by setting themselves up as de jure rulers of their State. The Papal claim to this
temporal rule also involved a claim to authority over temporal rulers so that the latter would help
and defend Rome at need. This in turn involved a policy of building up lapal prestige per se as a
source of this authority. This policy is reflected in the Papal sources of the period.
The Liber Pontificalis, that ongoing series of Papal biographies, begins the century as a fairly
outspoken commentary on its subjects' lives, and ends it as an entirely official source, ignoring
the negative and emphasizing the miraculous, the heroic and the prestigious. Papal letters to the
Frankish rulers emphasize, to a previously unheard-of extent, the Popes' Heaven-bestowed
authority and their right to obedience and protection from the Franks. The Donation of
Constantine, forged in Papal circles in the latter half of the century, splendidly justifies the
principle of temporal rule by the Pope, with no less than Imperial trappings. The terms used for
Papal accouterments in such sources as the Liber Pontificalis and the contempor- ary Ordines
Romani change from those with neutral or ecclesiastical connotations to those implying temporal
sovereignty. At length, in the reign of Hadrian I, the new idea of Papal independence and
authority begins to be expressed even in regard to the Popes' former sovereigns, the Byzantines.
Thus, the eighth century sees the beginning of the tendency of Papal sources, which becomes
very pronounced in the ninth century, deliberately to foster the image of the Pope as autonomous
and powerful as a source of needed political strength. The success of this policy is seen at the
very end of the century , when by an invocation of the Papal mystique Leo III turns aside the
serious accusations of his enemies and then appears to the world as the creator of an Imperial
title. The attitude of the Byzantine sources to the coronation of Charlemagne shows that they do
not fully understand or accept the new Papal ideology but such people as the anonymous
interpolator of the letters of Pope Gregory II to Leo III obviously place the Pope high in regard to
rulers, showing that the Papacy's view of itself was making headway also in Byzantium.
The Gospels of St. Augustine and Painting in Rome in the Eighth Century
John Mitchell, University of East Anglia
Cambridge, Corpus Christi College Ms. 286 is always thought to be an Italian book of the sixth
century. A not very venerable tradition claims that it once belonged to St. Augustine, the Roman
abbot whom Pope Gregory the Great sent to evangelize the south of England in 597; and
although the evidence is nothing if not tenuous, most scholars accept this story. What is certain is
that the book was in England early in the Anglo-Saxon period, when an insular scribe made many
corrections to the text in an uncial which closely copies the original script, and in an Anglo-Saxon
minuscule. In the first half of the ninth century it was probably at Canterbury, where the artist of
the Canterbury Gospels, London, British Library, Royal Ms. I.E.VI., may have looked to it for the
one evangelist symbol that survives
-3in his book, St. Luke's calf. And it was certainly in Canterbury, at the abbey of St. Augustine, in the
late tenth and in the eleventh centuries, when two documents recording grants to that house were
written into it.
The manuscript is invariably dated by its script, which E.A. Lowe, in volume II of his C.L.A.,
characterized as Italian of the sixth century. But the style of its illuminations has received scant
attention, and little attempt has been made to establish their artistic context.
The decoration of the codex --the portrait of the evangelist St. Luke flanked by tiny scenes from
the Ministry of Christ, and the series of twelve small episodes from the Passion which are laid out
on a preceding page--does not fall in with what we know of artistic developments in sixth-century
Italy. But it does fit easily into the context of painting in Rome in the eighth century. A considerable
number of works of this period have survived in Rome; and it is possible to chart the course of a

tradition of painting there--probably strongly influenced by contemporary Byzantine art at its


outset--from ca. 700 to the mid-ninth century. This tradition runs from the scenes in the presbytery
and choir of S. Maria Antiqua, of the first decade of the eighth century; through a number of works
dating from the middle of the century (in particular the paintings in the Chapel of Theodotus in S.
Maria Antiqua, the Old Testament cycle on the north wall of that church, and some fragments
from the crypt of S. Maria in Via Lata); and then on to the late, stiffened, almost moribund version
of the style to be seen in the scenes of martyrdoms in the north transept of S. Prassede, of the
time of Paschal I, and in a group of paintings in the lower church of S. Clemente, of the mid-ninth
century. It is to this tradition that the sequence of little scenes in the Corpus Gospels belongs. The
figure of St. Luke and certain details of his elaborate arched tabernacle also fit happily into an
eighth-century context.
The paper concludes with a consideration of the problems of dating raised by the script of the
manuscript.
Byzantine Influence on Roman Painting in the First Half of the Eighth Century
John Osborne, Courtauld Institute of Art
An examination of life in the city of Rome in the first half of the eighth century reveals the
immense influence exerted by Byzantium not only in the spheres of political lif eand religious
affairs but also on the more mundane aspects of popular culture. This is reflected to a large
extent in painted church decorations which have survived from this period. Art depends largely on
patronage, and the primary source of patronage in the city, namely the papacy, was dominated by
Greek-speaking clerics. The Liber Pontificalis informs us that of the eight popes whose reigns
span the first half of the eighth century, four were Syrian and three Greek. Wall paintings with
Greek inscriptions in S. Maria Antiqua and San Saba testify to the patronage of this community.
The influence exerted on art by the Greek presence in the city may be divided into two
categories: active and passive. With Constantinople providing the lead in cultural standards for
the empire, it is only natural that Greeks in Rome would look to the east for artists to paint
-4their churches and monasteries. It is possible that the John VII paintings in S. Maria Antiqua were
produced in this fashion, and there is less doubt about the origin of the fresco painters of
Castelseprio in northern Italy. Patronage also dictated the choice of subject matter. Thus it is no
surprise to find the images of large numbers of eastern saints portrayed on the walls of S. Maria
Antiqua and other churches, almost to the exclusion of indigenous Roman martyrs. The elaborate
hagiographic cycle of saints Cyricus and Julitta in the Theodotus chapel is an excellent case in
point. The period circa A.D. 700 witnessed the introduction to Rome of a number of iconographic
innovations apparently imported from the east, for example the Anastasis which appears three
times in the decorations commissioned by John VII. Also in this category are the direct attempts
by centralized authority to control iconography, for example the well-known canon 82 of the
Quinisext Council (A.D. 692), which insisted that Christ should only be represented in his human
form. In this instance, however, the results for Roman painting were exactly the opposite of what
had been intended.
Underlying the preference for things Byzantine was a cultural context again dominated by models
coming from the east. The coins in daily use in the city, although produced in local mints,
portrayed images designed in Constantinople. Thus the new iconographic type of Christ
introduced on the coins from the second reign of Justinian II was put to use almost at once on the
triumphal arch of S. Maria Antiqua. In a similar manner the tapestries and other textiles imported
for the decoration of major churches influenced the designs of the imitation vela painted on the
walls of less wealthy establishments. Much of the iconography used in Rome depended ultimately
on eastern models, even if this origin was by now forgotten. There is evidence that even such

characteristically Roman motifs as the iconography of the Maria Regina or the use of square
haloes on the portraits of living persons had entered the Roman vocabulary from the eastern
Mediterranean.
The argument that in the first half of the eighth century Rome was an artistic province of
Byzantium has far-reaching implications. Byzantine art historians have long been hampered by
the almost total lack of material which may be securely dated to this period. Thus the painting
which survives in Rome may provide a valuable reflection, however pale, of contemporary artistic
production in Constantinople.
Roman Mosaics of the Eighth and Early Ninth Century: A Survey
Caecilia Davis-Weyer, Tulane University
The relatively large number of eighth century frescoes in Rome and their apparent stylistic
homogeneity have encouraged the belief that there existed an unbroken, though declining
tradition of Greek painting in Rome throughout the century. That there existed a parallel tradition
of mosaic manufacture is a somewhat more tenuous hypothesis, since there are no extant
mosaics from the years between 707 and 795 and literary references to them are rare.
-5furthermore, Roman mosaics from the beginning of the century are quite incompatible with those
from its end. This is true in spite of the fact that the large fragment from the Aula Leonina in the
Vatican vaguely resembles the mosaics of John VII from the beginning of the century. It is so
restored that it must be considered a remake of the 17th and 18th centuries and cannot serve as
a link between the two groups of mosaics. Among the many differences which divide then one is
particularly significant: the shift from new to reused materials. It indicates that the production of
glasscubes for mosaics must have come to a halt in home at some point during the eighth
century.
To assume such a fundamental break in the continuity of Roman mosaic manufacture during the
eighth century unfortunately raises more problems than it solves. The workshops which produce
mosaics for Leo III and Paschalis I maintain a nearly homogeneous style over a period of thirty
years. This seems to imply that their art developed from a recent and rather narrow base. But
where should one seek this base? The style of our mosaics defies comparison with that of any
other contemporary or near contemporary work. Andr Grabar and other scholars have pointed
to possible links between them and the mosaic at Germigny-des-Pr s. I do not think that such a
connection exists. The mosaicists at Germigny-des- Prs relish the interplay of light and shadow
on rippling fold- patterns. We find a similar preoccupation in the mss. of the Ada School and the
underdrawings of the Aachen mosaics published by Clemen. The Roman mosaicists on the other
hand relied on an economical and simplified system of double and single lines in order to
represent the human figure. This system points to Byantine sources. It has its parallels not only in
Greek mss. of the ninth century but also in the apse mosaic of the church of the uDormition in
Nicea. What deters one from pursuing the Nicea parallel is the colouring of the Roman mosaics,
which is high and ruddy and quite unlike the subdued tonality found in Greek mosaics. But this
scruple in actually superfluous. It can be dismissed if we realize that the mosaicists of Leo III and
Paschalis I worked with reused materials. The cubes at their disposal came in all likelihood from
older western, and probably from late antique human mosaics. It is these materials with their high
incidence of light red, orange and pink cubes which determine the strikingly "western" complexion
of our mosaics. If one forgets about this colouring and looks instead at the setting patterns, the
parallels between the earliest mosaics of our group and Nicea become persuasive.
-6II. BYZANTINE HISTORIOGRAPHY AND LITERATURE

Pre-Iconoclastic Monasteries in Three Regions of Asia Minor: A Preliminary Comparison Dorothy


de F. Abrahamse, California State University, Long Beach
Although no figure is more characteristic of late ancient society than the ascetic, almost all our
knowledge of monastic institutions is derived from the major centers of Syria, Egypt or
Cappadocia, or from a handful of biographies of spectacular miracle workers. The material
evidence of art and archeology has provided information for isolated monuments (as at Alahan) or
for remote centers like the cave monasteries of Cappadocia. But the nature of more ordinary
foundations in the Byzantine provinces, along with their role in local society, is still largely
unexplored. Indeed, it is not yet clear to what extent monasticism may be considered a regular
feature of provincial Byzantine society in the fifth, sixth, and seventh centuries. Neither its
development nor its ultimate fate at the hands of invaders has been carefully studied; the
introduction of asceticism to most regions of Asia Minor is attributed, in most general studies, to
fourth century saints, and its continued survival during the age of invasions is all too often
assumed from late and unreliable references to provincial centers of monastic opposition to
Iconoclasm. Although a real understanding of the institution will ultimately depend on regional and
archeological investigation which has yet to be made for much of Asia Minor, the existing
evidence, largely literary and documentary, can provide an initial insight into the varieties of local
monasticism and their relation to major foundations. This paper will examine evidence for the
development of ascetic foundations in three regions of Asia Minor which reflect differing local
conditions--Bithynia, the area around Ancyra, and Amaseia and Euchaita in the Pontus.
In all three areas, ascetic foundations were extensive and played an important role in provincial
life by the sixth century. However, differences based on the geographical and historical features of
the region are clearly apparent in their development. Although no detailed history of a Bithynian
foundation exists, its development was clearly dominated by proximity to Constantinople, as is
evident in the records of imperial benefactions, aristocratic foundations on suburban estates, and
the involvement of abbots in church politics. The region around Ancyra is chiefly known through
the biography of Theodore of Sykeon, but it was also characterized by many other foundations in
the cities and villages of Galatia and Paphlagonia. In contrast, monasticism in the more sparsely
populated Pontus seems to have been concentrated in the city of Amaseia itself.
The evidence from these provinces reveals characteristics which may be compared to common
generalizations about the asceticism of the period. Attempts to portray monks as "urban" or "rural"
figures do not seem useful; it will be argued that, outside the sphere of the capital, these
monasteries may better be described as it regional" in a countryside where concerns of small
cities and villages were not essentially different. Foundations were consistently associated with
secular church hierarchies; in almost all instances local bishops were the key figures in their
establishment, promotion and protection. Although less evidence is available for relations with
laymen, local patronage is frequently evident; the origins of members and abbots are only
occasionally known, but their recruitment and training in Syria or Constantinople are a constant
theme. Finally, the origins and fate of
-7ascetic foundations in each area will be considered. Traditions of fourth century founders can
rarely be sustained; evidence suggests that provincial expansion began in the fifth century and
continued through the sixth and early seventh centuries. The disruption of the Persian and Arab
invasions was of major proportions in all three provinces. With the exception of a single Bithynian
foundation, none of these monasteries is known to have existed after the seventh century, and
the removal of relics to the capital suggests an increased centralization of ascetic life in the late
seventh century, and calls into question once again the image of the provincial monk as the target
of early Iconoclasts.
Byzantium: the Norman View

Emily Albu Hanawalt, Boston University


The world of Dudo of Saint-Quentin, the first Norman historian (writing c. 1015-26) does not reach
Byzantium. Fifty years later, William of Jumieges' central work, the Gesta Normannorum Ducum
(c. 1070-71), still does not mention the Eastern Empire; his interpolators, the Monk of Caen,
Ordericus Vitalis, and Robert of Torigni, include only a few references, and these are usually
spare and vague, though neutral or admiring. Documents focusing on the Norman Conquest of
England (Carmen de Hastingae Proelio and the Bayeux Tapestry) ignore the destination of many
English fighters forced to flee their homeland, while William of Poitiers' more ambitious Gesta
Guillelmi contains but six references, all positive. Baudry of Bourgueils Carmen CXCVI (c. 10991102) honoring the Conqueror's daughter Adela neglects not only her husband's scandalous
exploits in the East but also Guiscard's heroic ones, though the poem boasts of Norman
successes elsewhere.
We must look beyond the historians of Normandy to find a genuine interest in Byzantine affairs.
Among the Normans of the South, the hostility of Amatus (who can scarcely bear to mention the
Greeks without adding the epithet "qui estoient autrosi coment fames") and Malaterra (who calls
them "semper genus perfidissimum") is balanced by a more sympathetic view of closer
observers, the very writers a Byzantinist might expect to be most hostile. Readers of the
influential Crusading chronicle, the Gesta Francorum, have assumed that its author thoroughly
loathed Alexius Comnenus. In fact, as the anonymous Norman knight became more and more
disillusioned with his lord Bohemond, he ceased altogether from attacking the Emperor, whose
occasional generosity and legitimate concerns in the face of Western brigandage he had always
recognized. The Gesta Francorum also presents a complex and realistic picture of the native
peoples of the East. Sometimes they are war profiteers, spies and suppliers for the enemy, or
even treacherous heretics eager to join the Saracens in battle against the Crusaders; but
sometimes too they are supportive fellow-Christians who succour Crusaders in distress.
The Anonymous' exact contemporary, William of Apulia, the historian of Bohemond's father
Robert Guiscard, goes further in displaying pro-Byzantine sympathies. He likes to show off his
considerable knowledge of the Empire's internal affairs; and when Guiscard initiates his
Byzantine campaign, the Gesta's tone shifts dramatically and permanently from optimistic to
foreboding. This may reflect the feelings of Guiscard's men, who wanted to enjoy the prosperity
and relative tranquility they had won in Southern Italy, and of Pope Urban II, William's patron, who
had long desired rapprochement with Byzantium.
-8The interconnections of Norman histories assure that these two examples are not isolated or
insignificant. For its account of the First Crusade, the greatest of Norman histories, Ordericus
Vitalis' Ecclesiastical History, closely follows the Gesta Francorum through an intermediate
source, Baudry's Historia Ierosolimitana. Though Ordericus adds some powerful criticism of his
own, he can also deviate from the Crusaders' position, for instance by repeatedly acknowledging
the Emperor's rights to Antioch, despite the vigorous propaganda of her Norman princes.
Elegantissime: Greek Translation Style in the Late Fourth Century
Elizabeth A. Fisher, George Washington University
Among late Roman translations from Latin into Greek, two in particular share common features
and invite comparison. The Greek versions of Eutropius' Breviarium and of St. Jerome's Vita
Hilarionis (1) both survive complete, (2) are both usually attributed to the late fourth century, (3)
were both transmitted separate from the Latin originals as independent works of Greek literature,
and (4) are both expanded, free renditions of the original Latin texts. This "free" quality has led
some scholars of the Vita Hilarionis to doubt that the surviving translation is the fourth-century

one made by Jerome's friend Sophronios1 and commended by Jerome himself as


"elegantissime."2 Detailed analysis of Paianios' "free" translation style in the Breviarium and a
comparison between this style and that of the Vita Hilarionis translator will indicate that the two
translations share a common technique representing acceptable fourth-century practice.
Comparing the first section of the Breviarium in Latin and in Greek reveals that the Greek version
accurately conveys the sense of the Latin original, but with learned explanatory glosses intended
for a Greek and Eastern audience. Moreover, the Greek text preserves stylistic and rhetorical
features of the Latin original as well as introducing embellishments of its own.
The first section of the VII translation reveals a similar relationship to the original text. The Greek
version expands upon the Latin in order to accommodate the literary and stylistic preferences of a
Greek-speaking audience. Deviations from the original text are deliberate alterations and
additions of the sort observed in the Greek Breviarium; they are neither a translator's incompetent
fumblings nor a scribe's pious embroideries. Because Paianios used this "exegetic" technique in
translating the Breviarium, it represents acceptable practice in the fourth century. Therefore, it is
not impossible, that the surviving "exegetic" translation of Jerome's VH is indeed the translation
made by his friend and contemporary Sophronios.
The Greek Breviarium of Paianios appeared very soon after the Latin original by Eutropius, and
biographical evidence, although scanty, suggests that Latin author and Greek translator may
have been acquainted; Jerome knew Sophronios and commended the translations of his own
works. Translation into Greek occurred almost simultaneously in these two cases, perhaps with
the author's approval, and the translations were, in effect, "Greek editions" designed to please
Eastern tastes. The fact of their existence and the quality of their style acknowledges (1) that
Greeks of literary sophistication generally could not (or did not) read Latin literature in the original
language, (2) that in the
-9Greek world there was, however, a demand for certain types of Latin literature (e.g., history and
hagiography), and (3) that, then as now, translators and authors recognized that a completely
literal translation is not necessarily an accurate and effective one.
1 Grundy Steiner in Studies in the Text Tradition of St. Jerome's Vitae Patrum, ed. William A.
Oldfather (Urbana, Ill., 1943) 446-47. 2 De Viris Illustribus 134.
The De Aedificiis of Procopius as Panegyric
J.A.S. Evans, University of British Columbia
The aim of this paper is to look at the De Aedificiis of Procopius as a panegyric which was
designed to show Justinian as an ideal emperor. The emphasis of the first book is on the emperor
as the representative of God on earth. He builds to the glory of God, and receives superhuman
wisdom (including technological knowledge) from God in return. In the succeeding books, the
emphasis shifts rather to show Justinian as the protector of the empire, thanks to Whom it was
secure, and safe from its enemies.
The picture of the emperor that is given in the De Aedificiis is diametrically opposed to that given
in the Anekdota, and at times, the opposition is pointed.
A Byzantine Oak and its Classical Acorn: An Examination of Geometres, Progymnasmata 1
A.R. Littlewood, University of Western Ontario
The Byzantine eagerly embraced the doctrine of Longinos that imitation is a "path to sublimity".

Modern critics are generally quick to belittle literature that subscribes to so degenerate a doctrine,
and in this they are aided by the Byzantine's own modest belief in his capabilities: as Manuel II
Palaiologos declares, "if someone were to legislate that the lesser should be silent because of the
greater, no modern, I believe, would dare to open his mouth on account of the superiority of the
ancients". Nevertheless, the Byzantine was a man of deeply rooted individualism--an
individualism that he strove to express within the contours of the imitative tradition. "In the best
works ... this is excellently done", as Professor Hunger observes in his sympathetic but all too
brief discussion of Byzantine imitation (DOP 23, 17-38). A fine example is a prose encomium of
the oak by the tenth-century poet Ioannes Geometres which was perhaps intended as a literary
gift for a friend.
The little work fulfils all the requirements laid down by Hermogenes for an encomium of a plant,
but it avoids the suggestion of an arid catalogue of virtues both by natural transitions, often with
interlocking imagery, from subject to subject, and by the fact that it is pervaded by an atmosphere
of personal enthusiasm, most noticeable in the section on the pleasures of wild boar hunting
which rhetorically rises above the rest to the grand style symbolized by an apt epic parallel. The
combative element in Geometres' enthusiasm, noticeable in
- 10 other of his works, may be found in his introduction that attempts to place the work in the tradition
of adoxography, a genre perhaps not as popular among the Byzantines as we tend to assume
from the celebrated opuscula in which Michael Psellos champions the flea, the louse and the bug.
In subject-matter Geometres wears his learning lightly, but shows an admirable knowledge of the
classical material which in the case of the use of the acorn far excels that of a certain modern
classicist, to whom were available all the exhaustive aids of modern scholarship. The most
outstanding feature is, however, the way in which the cycle of the oak's life is worked into the
over-all scheme. The oak is born from the loins of mother earth like a child; like a mistress she
welcomes man who, charmed by her beauty, slumbers beneath her shade; before the discovery
of cereals she nurtured mankind and is therefore a universal mother; now she saves mankind in
time of starvation. Thus the oak is born, enjoys the love of man, becomes a mother with the
responsibility of children and finally, when they are grown up, comes to the rescue whenever
needed. A noteworthy feature throughout the cycle is a careful choice of words, both as one
passage looks forward to the next and in the combination of human and non-human vocabulary.
Particularly fine is the passage on the tree as mistress in which wholly arboreal beauties
gradually and subtly give way to a wholly human erotic simile.
III. MANUSCRIPTS, MUSIC, AND MEDICINE
The Byzantine Holdings of the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library
William F. Macomber, St. John's University, Minnesota
The Hill Monastic Manuscript Library of St. John's University, Collegeville, Minnesota, is primarily
a microfilm library dedicated to preserving manuscripts on microfilm and making them available to
scholars. Microfilm operations until now have been concentrated in Austria, Malta, Spain and
Ethiopia. Most of the 50,000 manuscripts that we now have on microfilm are in Latin and other
western languages, or are in Ethiopian languages, but we have also microfilmed some collections
of the first importance for Byzantine studies, plus a few others of marginal interest.
The biggest collections are those of the Austrian National Library in Vienna, where we have
microfilmed 1160 or 99% out of a total of 1174 Byzantine manuscripts (910 Greek, 186 Slavonic,
33 Armenian, 5 Georgian, 15 Coptic and 11 Syriac). Also of possible interest to Byzantinists will
be some of the 2700 Islamic manuscripts in Arabic, Turkish and Persian, especially the 259
manuscripts of Ottoman history. Even more important to Byzantinists are the papyrus fragments
from Egypt that include some 40,000 Greek fragments and another 20,000 fragments in Coptic,

Arabic and other languages. Almost all of the manuscripts have been catalogued and are easily
accessible. We also have a published checklist that indicates precisely which manuscripts have
been microfilmed. The same is not true of the papyrus fragments, but we do have now the means
of locating particular numbered fragments, which was not the case a year ago.
- 11 The Armenian collection of the Mekhitarist monastery in Vienna has also been microfilmed--1193
or 91% out of a total of 1304 manuscripts. This collection has also been catalogued--in Armenian,
however, but with a summary in German. Besides these, there are a few, scattered Greek
manuscripts, especially from the cathedral of Toledo, an Armenian manuscript from Mount Angel
Abbey in Oregon, a couple of Syriac manuscripts from Luther Seminary in Saint Paul, Minnesota,
and a collection of 23 Syriac and 23 Christian Arabic manuscripts from Monserrat.
Scholars are welcome to visit HMML and consult directly any microfilms they wish. The subsidia
for Byzantine studies--catalogues, dictionaries, grammars, general works of consultation, etc.-leave much to be desired at present, but will hopefully be improved in the future. Scholars can
also direct questions for research by our staff for an appropriate fee. Finally, with the consent of
the owning library, they can obtain either copies of complete microfilms ($26 per reel) or printouts
of individual pages or frames ($0.25 each). This consent is usually freely given by the Austrian
National Library, but in the case of the Mekhitarist library there have been difficulties.
The Asmatikos Orthros
Diane Touliatos-Banker, Ohio State University
This paper presents previously unpublished and unresearched material on the Morning Office of
the Hagia Sophia, which was known in the Byzantine rite as the Asnatikos or "Chanted" Orthros.
This archaic matinal service was transferred to Constantinople in the 9th-10th century from the
Church of the Holy Sepulcher in the Palestine.
This service was purely a cathedral rite that had the unique characteristic of being sung
throughout, with no words except for the prayers and supplications of the priests and deacons.
This was in direct opposition to the Monastic Orthros, which was normally performed without
singing, or at least with a minimal amount, and was often recited by one monk.
The duration of this cathedral rite in Byzantium was limited and by 1204 its usage began to wane.
The reason for this disintegration has been blamed on the capture of Constantinople by the Latin
conquerors of the Fourth Crusade. With the arrival of the Crusaders, the large body of priests and
singers needed to perform this "chanted" service had left Constantinople and had become
dispersed throughout the empire. Even though the "chanted" rite was no longer in regular use in
Constantinople after 1204, the ordo remained in practice for more than two centuries at the Hagia
Sophia of Thessaloniki. Only when Thessaloniki fell to the Turks on March 29, 1430 was this
cathedral rite brought to a sudden and final termination.
The primary source of information about this "chanted" office is found in the treatise On Divine
Prayer (De sacra precatione) by Symeon, Archbishop of Thessaloniki from 1410 to 1429. It is
from this treatise that the liturgical scheme of the Asmatikos Orthros will be reconstructed and
analyzed to demonstrate the complexity of this service.
- 12 Music for this office has been found in two manuscripts: Athens MS. 2062 and Athens MS. 2061.
The former is the earlier manuscript (dated "not later than 1385") and has one version of the
Asmatikos Orthros; while the latter (dated between 1391-1425) contains four versions. Because
of the complexity and quantity of music chanted in this service, only one selection will be

discussed in this paper: Psalm 118, which is sung only in the Sunday service.
From a comparison of the settings of this psalm in the five sources, certain conclusions can be
reached. The most important discovery is that two basic families of melodies exist for the
Asmatikos Orthros. These families are distinguished by identical or related modes and melodies.
The music found in Athens MS. 2062 and the first version in Athens MS. 2061 comprise one
family of chant that is basically simple in character, without much melodic ornamentation. The
remaining three versions in Athens MS. 2061 are members of a second family that is very
melismatic in nature and is characterized by ornamental devices. A possible interpretation
explaining the two families of chant and their modal dichotomy is that they were two versions
illustrating the difference in practice in two localities, such as Constantinople and Thessaloniki.
Western Views of Byzantine Music in the Eighteenth Century
Despina-Emvorfia Kavadas, Columbia, South Carolina
The migration of Greek scholars to the West following the fall of Constantinople in 1453 gave rise
to a body of Western writings on Byzantine chant. Important for their contemporary accounts of
actual performances of chant as well as explanations of Byzantine musical theories in Western
terms, these sources have been virtually ignored by modern scholars.
It is the purpose of this paper to introduce to modern scholars the types of information on
Byzantine chant contained in Western sources. A close examination of the Allgemeine Geschichte
der Musik and the Allgemeine Litteratur der Musik, two works by the eighteenth century scholar
Johann Nicolaus Forkel, will serve to illustrate one of the more concise and methodical
presentations of this information.
In the Ailgemeine Litteratur der Musik Forkel lists Western references to Byzantine chant in
chronological order. Two of these works, Guys' Voyage litteraire de la Grece and Sulzer's
Geschichte des transalpinischen Daciens, provide the primary source material for Forkel's
discussion of Byzantine musical theory, the main points of which are discussed in the body of this
paper. In addition to the theoretical discussion, Forkel includes in the Allgemeine Geschichte der
Musik biographical and legendary information on the most famous of the Byzantine melodists.
- 13 Some Sources and Problems in Byzantine Medicine
John Scarborough, University of Kentucky
In general treatments of medical history, Byzantine medicine normally receives a few hurried
paragraphs as the author proceeds to a consideration of either the medieval West or Islam. When
one does look up Byzantine medicine, in a history that gives the subject full scope, he finds a rich,
complicated collection of sources that includes the complete range of medicine: general practice,
hospitals, veterinary medicine, pharmacology, medical philosophy, surgery, etc. One major
problem, however, is the state of the medical texts that emerge from the Byzantine period. We
are, for example, well informed on the textual history of Dioscorides (fl. c. A.D. 60), and are
grateful for the marvellous Byzantine illustrations accompanying the Materia Medica that have
come down through the famous 6th century Anicia Juliana (which also contains Eutecnius'
paraphrases of Nicander's Theriaca and Alexipharmaca, likewise with illustrations). But most
other sources remain in a state of chaos. Oribasius (fl. 360) was well edited (by Raeder) as
recently as the 1930's, Paul of Aegina (fl. 640) by Heiberg in the 1920's, but such major figures as
Theophilus Protospatharius (fl. under Heraclius, 610-641), Stephen of Athens (fl. c. 635), Aaron of
Alexandria (?fl. 640), and John of Alexandria (c. 627-640) remain shadowy. Furthermore, the
state of medical compilation, characteristic of many earlier "Galenic" treatises, as well as of the
Geoponica and the Corpus hippiatricorum Graecorum (both of the 9th or 10th centuries) makes

understanding of particular periods rather murky, given our present texts. Kollesch has shown, for
example, that several treatises in the Khn edition of Galen are Byzantine, and there may be
dozens more.
The paper has modest objectives: to examine briefly the contents of Oribasiust "summary" of
medical information, available in the 4th century; to compare botanical, agricultural, and
veterinary matter in the Geoponica and Corpus hippiatricorum with earlier materials in
Theophrastus, Nicander, and Vegetius, as well as the Mulomedicina Chironis and Pelagonius; to
note something of Byzantine medical education via John of Alexandria; and to suggest something
of the changing, adaptive nature of Byzantine medicine.
Greek Fragments of John of Alexandria
John Duffy, Dumbarton Oaks
Vaticanus gr. 300 is a codex of just over three hundred folia, written sometime in the eleventh or
twelfth century by two scribes in strikingly neat handwriting. The main text of the manuscript is an
anonymous Greek translation of a well-known Arabic medical handbook, Zd al-Musfir
("Provisions for the Traveller"), composed by Ab a far ibn al-azzr (d. 1004); the Greek is
usually known by the title Ephodia.1 In the margins of this work there is written, by the same two
scribes and with equal care, another text which has no indication of authorship; still, the acute eye
of Cardinal Giovanni Mercati, who was preparing the catalog description,2 was able to recognize
it as extracts from a commentary on Hippocrates, and from none other than the lectures on
Epidemics VI by John of Alexandria, which until then had been known only through a medieval
Latin trans- 14 lation. Mercati went on to publish a detailed and first-rate codicological account of the manuscript,
in which he identified each extract with its equivalent in the Latin version, quoting the opening and
final words;3 but the edition and study of the fragments he left, as he put it (p. 20), "a chi n'abbia
tempo e voglia."
His discovery, however, appears to have gone unnoticed, and when the first critical edition of the
Latin was published in 1975 there was no mention of Greek fragments.4 The present writer is
now preparing the edition of these fifty excerpts which amount to about forty typed pages or
roughly ten percent of the whole. Half of the excerpts are also transmitted by the more than
twenty other manuscripts of the Ephodia; in these the pieces of John's work are no longer in the
margins, but have been intruded into the body of the main text.
John of Alexandria is one of the five or six known medical teachers (iatrosophists) who lectured
on Hippocrates and Galen at Alexandria in the sixth and seventh centuries. He is mentioned by
some Arab writers, who generally confuse him with John Philoponus. His other surviving works
are the remains of lectures on Hippocrates' De natura pueri and a commentary on Galen's De
sectis, the latter extant only in a Latin version. The commentary on Epidemics VI, apart from
being a good illustration of Alexandrian teaching activity, has a certain interest for the history and
interpretation of the Hippocratic text, especially since the last quarter of Galen's commentary has
not survived in Greek and the lecture notes of Palladius also are incomplete. In the matter of the
Latin translation, the Greek remains should help to decide which of the several witnesses is the
more reliable and they will provide a basis for testing the theory that it was prepared by
Bartholomew of Messina.
1 The Viaticum of Constantine the African is a Latin version of Ab Ga far's book. 2 J. Mercati-P.
Franchi De' Cavalieri, Codices Vaticani Graeci I (Rome, 1923), pp. 430-37. 3 In Studi e Testi 31
(1917), pp. 9-33. 4 C. D. Pritchet, Johannis Alexandrini Commentaria in Sextum Librum
Hippocratis Epidemiarum (Leiden, 1975).

IV. HILANDAR MONASTERY ON MT. ATHOS


The Architectural Significance of the Hilander Kathotikon
Slobodan uri, University of Illinois
The present Katholikon of the Serbian monastery Hilandar on Mount Athos was built for King
Milutin around 1303. It has long been recognized as representing the turning point in the stylistic
development of Serbian Medieval architecture, reflecting the general cultural shift toward
Byzantium which prevailed in Serbia after 1300. Despite its importance for the development of
Serbian architecture, full understanding of this monument cannot be sought properly in that
context
- 15 alone. The architectural significance of the Hilandar Katholikon can be appreciated only within the
broader framework of Byzantine architecture.
Aside from its spacious twin-domed narthex, which belongs to the mainstream of contemporary
Palaeologan architectural developments, other aspects of the architecture of the Hilandar
Katholikon are more closely related to the older Byzantine building tradition. The plan, as has
been shown on numerous occasions, depends directly on the oldest Athonite building tradition.
Other aspects of the Hilandar Katholikon can be linked to the Constantinopolitan tradition: the
internally scalloped domes and drums, the four free-standing columns supporting the main dome,
the floor, the general articulation of facades, the building technique, and the use of friezes
consisting of pendant triangles. The closest parallels, however, are not found among the
contemporary buildings, but among the eleventh and twelfth century churches of Constantinople.
The most characteristic conservative aspects of the Hilandar Katholikon is the manner of
articulation of its walls. Especially instructive are the lateral walls of the eastern part of the naos
and those of the narthex. Externally, these reveal tall arcades framed by double recessed pilaster
strips and corresponding archivolts. Such a rigorous system of facade articulation was being
displaced by decorative, often structurally irrational, systems in Constantinopolitan architecture of
the early fourteenth century (Parekklesion of the Chora, Tekfur Saray). Equally conservative at
the Hilandar Katholikon is the presence of interior pilasters-responds--which relate in placement
to the exterior pilaster strips. Remnants of the classical building tradition, such responds were
standard components of eleventh and twelfth-century architecture in Constantinople, but became
virtually exceptional at the outset of the fourteenth century.
Despite its apparent general similarity with the architecture of Constantinople, the Katholikon of
Hilandar was not directly related to the contemporary architectural developments in the Byzantine
capital. The conservative character of its architecture, instead, finds its closest parallels among
the churches of Mistra. Relevant are comparisons with the Metropolis and the Aphendico.
Similarities with the architecture of Mistra should by no means be interpreted as having resulted
from the same workshop. Instead, they lead us to conclude that the pre-1204 constantinopolitan
building tradition was preserved in centers such as Mount Athos and Mistra. Such centers could
have welcomed displaced constantinopolitan builders and artisans during the thirteenth century,
where their legacy would have lived uninterrupted into the fourteenth century.
In conclusion, I propose that the implicit "revolutionary" role of the Hilandar Katholikon must be
understood solely in the context of architecture built under the patronage of King Milutin. The
architecture of the Hilandar Katholikon in a broader sense was basically a conservative
achievement, dependent not on the contemporary Palaeologan architecture of Constantinople but
on the superseded Comnenian building tradition.

The Trapeza of Chilanderi


George Strievi, University of Cincinnati
The trapeza of Chilandari is quite typical of the Byzantine monastic refectory. It has the form of an
elongated apsed hall, oriented north-south, situated opposite, and a short distance away, from the
western faade of the katholikon. The interior of
- 16 the Chilandary trapeza has been altered: a part of the fresco decoration was destroyed in the
early years of the 19 c. and most of its original furnishings replaced by modern pieces at an even
later date. The medieval appearance of the trapeza can, however, be reconstructed. Behind the
17 c. ceiling, some remains of an earlier fresco decoration, dating, apparently, to the time ca.
1300, have been recently discovered. They seem to support the hypothesis that zograf Georgie
Mitrofanovi, who in 1621 painted the frescoes in the trapeza, depended in the selection of
subject matter and in iconography on an earlier, medieval decoration. Of the original furnishings
there is left in its original position--in the center of the apse--only the table of the Abbot: a circular,
lobed stone mensa with a molded raised frame, resting on a hexagonal masonry base. Several of
some fourteen other stone tables which were still inside the trapeza just over a century ago, are
to be found lying around in the courtyard of the Monastery. Some of them are of the so-called
sigma type, which is quite well known from other Athos refectories.
The major interest of the Chilandari trapeza lies in the fact that its architecture and furnishings, as
well as its interior decoration, enable us to recognize the origin of the Byzantine monastic
refectory in the triclinium which sometimes--certainly more often than it has been thought so far-accompanied an Early Christian church building. These triclinia were furnished with a number of
sigma-shaped marble tables from which the typical athonite trapeza table derived its peculiar
shape. The Abbot's table in the trapeza of the Great Lavra, built, apparently, by St. Athanasius
himself (A.D. 963), is, in fact, a re-used Early Christian sigma table. The great many of such
tables have been found in Early Christian monasteries in Egypt. The refectories in these
monasteries strikingly resemble the later Athonite trapeza both in architectural type and physical
relationship to the main church of the monastery, as well as in their liturgical functions. These
Early Christian predecessors of the Byzantine monastic refectories show quite clearly that the
trapeza should be seen as an extension of the church and that its main liturgical function was to
serve as the place in which were held commemorative repasts in honor of the patron and the
founder of the monastery, the practice which is well documented in the Early Christian and
Medieval sources. These commemorative agape feasts seem to have been originally a direct
continuation of the liturgical celebration and somewhat later-- but still in Early Christian times-divorced from the eucharistic service and transferred to the adjoining triclinium which to this
separation probably owes its very appearance. The fact that in post-medieval times, i.e. when
Chilandari replaced its original coenobitic rule by idiorrhythmic, its trapeza has been used only
few times a year (for the commemorative feasts in honor of the Virgin-- who also happens to be
the patron of the Monastery, and on the anniversary of the death of its founders, Sts Sava and
Symeon) brings into focus the connection between the Byzantine trapeza and the Early Christian
church triclinium. The iconographic program of the fresco decoration of the Chilandari trapeza
appears to be the most appropriate background for these commemorative repasts: except for the
scene of the Last Supper, a common and most natural theme in the decoration of a dining hall,
everything else in the murals painted there (repeating an older scheme ?) by Georgie
Mitrofanovi, is connected either with the holy founders of the Monastery (an extensive cycle
illustrates the life of St Sava who is, then, together with other founders of the Monastery,
represented in the first zone of the frescoes, in the company of the most distinguished Byzantine
holy hermits) or with the Virgin (the Akkathystos hymn, the sticheron of Christmas, the Tabernacle
and the Jacob's vision of the ladder, both of them represented here as prefigurations of the
Virgin).

The commemorative repasts in honor of the Virgin culminate in the rite which is
- 17 called the Elevation of the Panaghia and known to have been--as it still is celebrated in
Chilandari, as well as in other Athos monasteries. The liturgical texts of the rite which are
preserved in Chilandari do not seem to be of any great antiquity, but the oldest of several
panaghiaria (the patens which are used for transferring from the church to the trapeza of the
bread which is used in the rite of the Elevation) which are kept in the treasury of the Monastery,
has been dated to the 10-11 c. The inscription which on this panaghiarion accompanies the
representation of the Virgin, is the same which, according to the earliest preserved text of the rite
(Cod. Cryptoferr. G.b.VII, 10th c.), was recited during the Elevation. Another valuable source for
the study of the early history of the Byzantine monastic trapeza is the Abbot's table in Chilandari
which finds its close parallel in a large lobed terracotta dish which was discovered in the 10 c.
Coptic monastery at Ghazali, and through which the origin of the lobed frame which appears on
many Early Christian and medieval refectory and altar tables (sigma-shaped, rectangular and
circular), as well as on some medieval patens, could be linked with the Late Antique platters of
the so-called gradale type which were, apparently, also used as portable table-tops.
The Hilandar Cameos: The Problems of Style and Dating of Late Byzantine Glyptic Works Ljubica
D. Popovi, Vanderbilt University
The Hilandar cameos, compared to those in the great cameo collections, appear modest in
variety and aesthetic appeal.1 Seen as a group in their own right, however, they gain in
significance. The six glyptic pieces examined here apparently range from the early twelfth through
the first decades of the fourteenth century.
Possibly the oldest cameo, of the Virgin Blanchernitissa with Child, may belong to the early
twelfth century. Even in its damaged state, it preserves traces of the elegance found in the glyptic
art of the Middle Byzantine period. The youngest example, which I identified as the cameo
representing Saint John the Theologian, may testify stylistically to the as yet little known revival of
carving in semi-precious stones during the early fourteenth century.
However, the most interesting group of Hilandar cameos are those four, which I ascribe, on the
basis of their style, to the late twelfth and the thirteenth centuries, thus postdating the classical
period of Byzantine carving in semi- precious stones. The standing Christ in lapis-lazuli could be
the last known image of the Chalkites type in the glyptic technique. I suggest, based on
comparison with material other than cameos, that it was probably carved during the late thirteenth
century. The best possibility of dating the Hilandar green jasper cameo of Christ in half figure is,
on the strength of visual evidence, the dated cameo from the Cini collection in Venice (1204).2
There is also an indirect indication that this cameo of Christ was in Hilandar at least by the midthirteenth century. Stylistic analysis suggests that this cameo was a prototype for several other
cameos with the same subject: red jasper Christ at Hilandar, green jasper Christ at the Muzej za
Primenjenu Umetnost,3 Belgrade, and another example now in Novgorod. Furthermore, the
Hilandar cameo with the Virgin Orans in green jasper shows stylistic affinities with the Belgrade
cameo of Christ, and may be related to other cameos representing the Virgin in collections of
London, Paris, Rostov and Pskov.
As to the origin of the Hilandar cameos, without written documentation one can only offer an
hypothesis: some of the glyptic pieces were imported, possibly from Constantinople, the
presumed center of Byzantine production of such works. In
- 18 addition to the cameo with the Virgin Blachernitissa, the pieces most likely of metropolitan origin
are the Christ Pantocrator in green jasper, the carving of Saint John the Theologian, and the

standing Christ in lapis lazuli. Two other pieces discussed, the cameo with Christ Pantocrator in
red and the Virgin Orans in green jasper, because of their stylistic properties, indicate origin in a
regional workshop. Although the locality cannot be established with certainty, the possibility that it
was in Hilandar is strong.
When comprehensive studies of Byzantine glyptic art are completed, the Hilandar cameos will
hold an important place in the closing chapter of the history of this medium. Specifically, they can
help elucidate the problem of regional and local production in contrast to that which was
centralized, metropolitan, and imperial.
1 Svetozar Radoji, "Umetniki Spomenici Manastira Hilandara," Zbornik Radova Vizantolokog
Instituta (Beograd, 1955), 182-183; figs 43-45. 2 Hans Wentzel, "Datierte und datierbare
byzantinische Kameen," Festschrift Friedrich Winkler (Berlin, 1959), 10-11. 3 Bojana Radojkovi,
"Kameja sa Hristom Pantokratorom," Zbornik Radova Vizantolokog Instituta (Beograd, 1969),
283-286, fig.1.
The Hilandar Project to Date
David F. Robinson, Ohio State University
The Ohio State University has established a microfilm archive of all the Slavic manuscripts and
several rare printed books held by the Hilandar Monastery, Mount Athos. The collection consists
of some one thousand codices and hundreds of Bulgarian, Byzantine, Russian, Serbian, Turkish
and Wallachian edicts and characters dating from 1009 through the nineteenth century. These
have been supplemented by Slavic and Greek codices from other Athonite monasteries, Rila
Monastery in Bulgaria, and major libraries in Greece and Bulgaria.
The microfilming project was initiated and carried out by Prof. Matejic of Ohio State, largely by his
personal efforts in the monasteries concerned in the years 1970, 1971 and 1975. Cumulative
check lists have been published in 1971, 1972 and 1976. Present plans include completing the
furnishing of the Hilandar Room, Main Library, and a detailed survey of the contents of the
approximately 80 codices containing miscellaneous material, now simply labeled "Collections" in
the checklists; a survey of the Liturgies in the Collection; and a survey of original literary works in
the codices.
To date several North American and European scholars and students have made use of the
Collection. In 1977 a conference of twenty American and Canadian scholars was held at the
University to discuss the achievements and prospects of the Hilandar Project. Financial aid to the
Project has been provided by the Serb National Federation, the National Endowment for the
Humanities, the American Council of Learned Societies, and the Ohio State University.
- 19 Hilandar Codex 292: An Unusual Martyrologion
Mateja Mateji, Ohio State University
The author presents a factual and literary analysis of the Hilander Codex #292 (360), dated 1816.
By its title and the content of the first three folia, it is indeed a martyrologion. However, the larger
part of the I+16+I folia 19th century paper manuscript, contains biographical, or probably,
autobiographical data on Daniil, the author of this work, and, possibly, also the scribe of this
manuscript. Further, there is, as an integral part of his biography, an episode entitled "Daniil's
Vision" which is a publicistic and anti-Turkish statement presented in the form of a vision of Christ,
the Theotokos and scores of saints. The obvious tendency or "ideology" of this religious in
content yet publicistic in spirit literary work is to reinforce the hope of Christians in their imminent
liberations from the Turks.

Unusual characteristics of this martyrologion lie in the author's deviation from the norms and rules
of the genre of martyrolgoia, as well as in his use of the genre of religious literature to propagate
the idea of an imminent liberation of Christians. As such this work deserves a closer analysis and
that is the object of this paper.
"Daniel's Vision" is of particular interest to the present author, as a literary document reflecting the
spirit among Christians enslaved by the Turks and their increased hopes in the liberation at the
beginning of the 19th century. These hopes were strengthened by some more or less successful
uprisings against the Turks which took place at the beginning of that century. Thus, in 1804,
Karadjordje led the First Serbian uprising against the Turks. The hopes of the Christians, the
monks of the Holy Mount among them, were greatly strengthened by the temporary success of
this uprising, although it collapsed already in 1813. However, shortly thereafter, in 1815, the
Second Serbian uprising against the Turks took place under the leadership of Milo Obrenovi.
The news about its success could have reached the monks of the Holy Mount. One may wonder
whether this successful uprising of the Christian Serbs could have inspired Daniil to write down
the record of his own vision in which the liberation of Christians was promised by Christ Himself.
It certainly echoes the optimism of Christians of that period and their hope of liberation. It is
therefore contended here that "Daniil's Vision", no matter whether it was an actual experience or
the artistic imagination of Daniil, is the most important part of the Hilandar Codex #292 (360),
because it is not only a depiction of the vision of an individual, but a reflection of the cherished
dream of all Christians enslaved by Turks. Its value as a religious document may be minimal; its
value as a literary and historical document is outstanding.
Journey of Our Father Agapius to Paradise
Richard Pope, York University
A manuscript in the Hilandar collection contains a Slavonic translation of the "Journey of our
Father Agapius to Paradise," otherwise known only from a single Greek manuscript. The Slavonic
text, however, contains significant details missing from the Greek version. This paper describes
the Slavonic text, discusses
- 20 its linguistic and hagiographical significance, and places it in its wider historical context.
V. HISTORY OF ART
An Openwork Gold Cup
Christine Kondoleon, Harvard University
This paper is concerned with establishing the authenticity of an unpublished openwork gold cup in
a private European collection. If proven authentic, this uniquely decorated cup is an important
contribution to our limited knowledge of gold works from Late Antiquity.
The subject of the cup's decoration is a Dionysiac thiasos and putti harvesting the vine. Both the
iconography and ornamental motifs have ample parallels in Late Antique art. The presentation of
several key analogies demonstrates a familiarity with uncommon motifs which suggests an artist
fluent in Late Classical art. When one considers the great number of motifs presented with an
internal consistency and a historical accuracy, it is difficult to imagine a forger's hand.
The more controversial aspect of the cup is its technique. The openwork cup was discovered
along with a plain gold cup but the relationship between these two cups is unclear. There is no
evidence to indicate that the two cups were ever physically connected. Yet, since they have

traveled together the question of their relation- ship must be addressed. An examination of the
comparable openwork vessels, that is, the diatreta or glass cage-cups (e.g. Cagnola Cup and
Lycurgus Cup), the metal openwork with glass bowl (e.g. the Varpelev Cup from Copenhagen),
and the metal-on-metal vessels (e.g. the Antioch Chalice), illustrate the popularity of this
technique in the Late Antique period. In all the above vessels the two-unit ensemble creates a
two-color effect. For instance, the Antioch Chalice has a gilded outer bowl with a silver inner bowl.
Openwork seems by nature to require a "foil" to offset the design. Thus the design can be "read"
easily and is aesthetically attractive. The persistence of the two-color effect throughout this
openwork group militates against accepting the plain cup as the inner bowl because the gold
openwork design would not stand out well against a gold ground. It is possible, however, that the
plain cup came from the same workshop or hoard since its gold composition is similar to the
decorated cup. One would then assume that the original inner bowl was lost and would either
have been made of metal other than gold or of glass. If the cups are assumed to have been
intended as a unit, then the authenticity of the openwork cup should be questioned.
- 21 The typological relationship of the decorated cup to the Antioch Chalice immediately recalls the
controversial history attached to the latter. This comparison raises the question, "Should the
argument of 'uniqueness' be used for or against authenticity?"
Hunting Ivories and Hunting Mosaics: Notes on Relative Chronology
Anthony Cutler, Pennsylvania State University
Among the difficulties that attend the study of Late Antique ivories are the absence of dated
examples (other than consular diptychs) and the lack of certainty regarding their place of origin.
On the rare occasions when find- spots are known, these may obscure the possibility of
movement through trade and booty. On the other hand, while scarcely more than half a dozen
contemporary floor mosaics are precisely dated, the research of the last forty years has produced
a sort of consensus regarding the relative chronology of hundreds of pavements. Even for those
that have been moved, their place of origin is usually well-known.
Considering only hunting subjects and such analogous scenes as the circus and the
amphitheater, striking resemblances can be observed between ivories and mosaics. In addition to
obviously common motifs, these include overall composition, similar relationships between men,
animals and landscape, and the formal rapport of one scene to another in "compound" works in
both media. Outstanding examples are the late fourth-century Djemila and Cherchel Hunts in
which scenes evolve alternately to right and left as in the Liverpool Venatio, panel (V.59). The
same ivory's elimination of circumstantial detail (in contrast to the dense consular diptychs of the
early sixth century) recalls the austerity of the gladiatorial mosaic from Torre Nuova (early fourth
century). The artificial breaking of the long-established register scheme by means of oblique axes
in the pavement at Khanguet el-Hajaj (dating after the Vandal conquest?) is closely paralleled in
the Leningrad Lion Hunt (V.60). In almost every case, the stylistic features which characterize
such mosaics can be found in more exaggerated fashion on the hunting ivories (as well as in
metalwork, textiles etc.) where they appear as solutions to formal problems first worked out in
monumental painting and now appropriated for use in spatially more constrained media.
The ivory workers, then, followed the lead of mosaicists. This relationship is supported by the
investigations of C. Dauphin (1976) who has shown that the setting of a large floor mosaic was a
much more piecemeal operation than had previously been supposed. The technical division of a
pavement into compositional units rehearses or, rather, as I show, anticipates the basic elements
that, in combination, constitute the hunting ivories. Diptychs and panels on the one hand and
mosaic "figure carpets" on the other depend upon paradeigmata that were employed in a variety
of media, adapted to different conditions and--most important of all--traveled. Compositional
schemes and tricks seem to have journeyed, along with "pattern books" and technical knowledge,

over fairly clearly defined routes. Thus our ivories have a bearing on the geographical controversy
that surrounds the progressive substitution of the figure carpet for the emblema.
The high degree of probability of a Western (and most likely Roman) origin for
- 22 the Liverpool Venatio established by Salomonson and van der Werff (1973), and its similarity to
North African pavements of the late fourth century show that schemes worked out for mosaics
affected other media in the West before they shaped the Eastern Mediterranean hunts in the
second half of the fifth century.
A New Identification of the Orant Figures in the Rotunda Mosaics at Thessaloniki
W. Eugene Kleinbauer, Indiana University
Ever since they were first published by Texier and Pullan in 1864, the standing male figures in the
mosaic frieze in the dome of the Rotunda at Thessaloniki have been identified as martyr saints.
The orant gesture of these figures and the inscriptions placed near their heads have led scholars
to accept this identification without question. Edmund Weigand (1939) even went so far as to
forward the hypothesis that these figures illustrate a universal church calendar of martyr saints.
After re-examining this aspect of the iconography of the mosaics, I want to suggest that these
figures are not saints but images of either the founders of the monument when it was converted
from pagan to Christian use in the middle of the fifth century or the donors who contributed to the
decoration of this new cult building.
The most striking characteristic of the standing figures when viewed as a group is the variety of
their head types. This pantheon of types raises the possibility that these are portrait likenesses of
living individuals, a suggestion which is further strengthened by the lack of any earlier or
contemporary parallel for such a matrix of head types in Christian religious art.
The surviving thirteen inscriptions accompanying the figures provide the name of each figure, the
name of a month according to the Julian calendar, and, with one exception, an occupation. Agios
or sanctus is nowhere present.
While many of the preserved names are those of saints recorded in pre-Iconoclastic sources,
some, like Therinos or Eukarpios or even a soldier saint named Onesiphoros, go unmentioned in
any extant Greek calendar of saints. But these are also the names of actual living persons in the
fifth century. For example, the minutes of the sessions of the Council of Chalcedon record
bishops named Romanos, Onesiphoros, Leontios, Philippos, Damianos, and Kyrillos. Porphrios
was the name not only of the famous bishop of Gaza (ca. 395-420), who was born at
Thessaloniki ca. 352, but also of a subdeacon and monk who attended the synod of monks which
convened at Ephesos in 449. Or we can cite Priskos, a name mentioned in an inscription in
mosaic belonging to a structure underlying the large octagonal building, at Phillippi. Let it be
recalled that in the fifth century every Christian had a patron saint after whom he was named
either at birth or at baptism, a practice stemming from the third century.
The occupations listed in the Rotunda inscriptions are likewise those of actual persons as well as
of saints. These include episkopoi, presbyteroi, stratiotai, an iatros, and a choraulos. Since as
many as seven inscriptions are now lost, additional occupations may have been recorded. Thus
Damianos iatrou identified in the mosaics may represent either the famed anargyros of the third
- 23 century or an actual physician practicing medicine at a later period.

The presence of the name of a month without an accompanying day in each mosaic inscription is
more difficult to account for. Weigand faced the same difficulty when he attempted to interpret the
mosaic frieze as an illustrated church calendar, because all church calendars list the day of the
month on which the feast of a saint is to be celebrated. Nor is Mrs. Soteriou's explanation (1972)
satisfactory: these figures represent not saints whose feasts were commemorated on specific
days, but the martyrs of all months of the Christian year -- in other words, the figures stand for all
classes of martyr saints. Neither interpretation explains why the names of the months are not
arranged in chronological order; the names of some months recur, those of others are absent.
Hence we cannot safely assume that the names of all twelve months were originally recorded. Let
me propose that the presence of these names refers to an equal share of the total benefaction
which each donor contributed to the building. Such an explanation is suggested by dedicatory
inscriptions in the floor mosaics of other churches which identify the names of numerous donors,
their occupations, and the exact number of square feet of pavement mosaic paid for by each
donor.
These floor mosaics also provide parallels for large numbers of donors giving benefactions to a
single church. We also possess accounts of soldiers both building churches and giving
benefactions to them.
The fact that none of the orants is nimbed, which in itself is inconclusive about identification,
leaves open the possibility that they do not represent saints. They all are garbed in belted tunics
with tight-fitting sleeves, over which they wear either the chlamys or the paenula (or phelonion).
Although the outer garments belong to one of only two types, they are distinguished by different
colors and by tablia. Sewn on the right shoulder of the chlamydati are tablia which enclose
portrayals of an unnimbed standing figure in a gesture of address, which may represent an
emperor rather than Christ or a saint. In this case the identity of the orant wearing the tablion as a
saint seems unlikely.
An association of donor with chancel screen furnished an explanation for the architectural
facades shown behind the figures in the mosaic frieze. The two panels representing Onesiphoros
and Porphyrios and Basiliskos and Priskos show each pair of figures flanking a hexagonal
ciborium which shelters a large bejeweled cross and is enclosed by chancel slabs, while the
panel representing Damianos and his companion shows the figures standing on either side of a
circular ciborium sheltering an altar. In the western panel with three figures Romanos stands
inside or outside a low chancel barrier. If the panels permit a literal reading, then the facades with
their chancel enclosures and other liturgical furnishings represent the actual benefactions of the
donors themselves.
Furthermore, this proposed identification of the orants is supported by other visual evidence
provided by the mosaics themselves. The frieze is clearly distinguished from the upper and lower
zones by a simulated entablature above, a simulated console frieze below, and especially by its
architectural character, rendered in shimmering gold, and hence conceived as a kind of dado. In
addition, the diagonal axes created by the four winged angels supporting the Christ medallion
- 24 in the apex of the dome do not coincide with the placement of the eight orant panels below. The
surviving precious fragments of the figures in the second zone of the dome represented figures,
possibly angels, clad in white garments, in a variety of poses and lively action on green ground, in
contrast to the motionless orants below, and these figures are related iconographically to the
Christ figure in the apex: together they represent the Second Coming of Christ. That this specific
iconography also includes the frieze of orants has never been demonstrated before.
The Trier Ivory, Adventus Iconography, and the Relics of St. Stephen
Kenneth G. Holum, University of Maryland and Gary Vikan, Dumbarton Oaks

At the 1977 Byzantine Studies Conference Suzanne Spain presented a paper which generated
new interest in the so-called translation of the relics ivory in the Trier Cathedral treasury. This
year, we would like to offer a completely new interpretation of that much-discussed piece based
on the following methodological precepts: 1. That the event portrayed on the plaque is at once
historical and ceremonial-liturgical, and therefore need not be tied to the dating of the object (cf.
the Menologion of Basil II); and 2. That a proper analysis of its iconography (and therefore correct
identification of its specific historical setting) can only proceed from an accurate understanding of
the broader "relic adventus ceremonial" to which it bears witness. Moreover, since contemporary
visual documents of this ceremonial are few, that analysis must be based primarily on the (many)
surviving textual accounts of such events.
A ystematic examination of those accounts reveals a three-part ceremonial rhythm around which
the reception of holy relics was customarily organized. It consisted of a festive, extra-mural
synantesis of relics and polis, a more solemn and organized propomp through the city's streets,
and finally, a quasi-liturgical apothesis beneath the altar in a church. Applying this typology to the
Trier ivory we find that the moment portrayed is one near the end of the procession, just before
the apothesis or deposition. More significantly, however, we find that the iconography of the
plaque includes several unusual features which distinguish it from an ordinary relic adventus and
thereby provide important clues to its specific historical identification. They are: 1. The central role
afforded an empress, who alone acts as recipient of the relics; 2. The emphasis on a church
which is being completed for their deposition; 3. The pervasive court atmosphere evoked by the
makeup and behavior of the crowd; and 4. The distinctly imperial setting indicated by the
tetrapylon (Chalke) gate at the left and the three-story arcade in the background.
Once isolated, these distinctive features invite identification of the event portrayed with a very
important (but little-known) relic adventus of 421, when Pulcheria Augusta brought the right hand
of St. Stephen from Jerusalem to the imperial palace of Constantinople and deposited the relic in
a chapel which she founded for the occasion. To our knowledge this is
- 25 the only translation which meets the requirements of the ivory's iconographic idiosyncrasies, while
the adventus of 421 was so unusual in character that the possibility of an unrecorded event is
small indeed. We therefore conclude that we have at last given the Trier ivory its correct
interpretation.
The piece then becomes a visual document of first importance for research into early Byzantine
imperial ideology, especially into the ideological foundations of the power of the empresses. It
may be shown that Pucheria translated the relics of St. Stephen as part of a coherent ideological
program, which included introduction to a "Cross of Constantine" into the imperial palace and
initiation of a new coin type, the Long-Cross Solidi. The program as a whole must be associated
with the Persian War of 421- 22 and with political intrigue in the court of Theodosius II.
The Ekphrasis of Spring in Byzantine Art
Henry Maguire, Dumbarton Oaks
As Hermogenes explains in his second century handbook on the rhetorical exercises, an
ekphrasis could describe a person, an action, a time, a place, a season, or a thing, such as a
building or a work of art. Because of their value as evidence for the reconstruction of lost
Byzantine monuments, descriptions of buildings and works of art are today the best known
category of ekphrasis. But, in a different way, other types of ekphrasis are no less relevant to an
understanding of Byzantine art, both with respect to iconography and to style. This paper shows
how descriptions of the season of spring provided Byzantine artists with a treasury of images
which could be applied to portrayals of the Annunciation.

The most famous model of an ekphrasis of spring was written by the fourth century sophist
Libanius. In the pagan orator's description we can recognize nearly all of the motifs which were
later to adorn the Christian homilies. It was a well known sermon on the New Sunday by Gregory
of Nazianzus which gave the ekphrasis of spring a place of respectability in Christian literature.
Like Libanius, Gregory observed that: "now the streams flow more transparently, the rivers more
abundantly, released from the bonds of winter." The homilist also was moved by the luxuriant
growth of the plants and he noted that: "the bird is just now building itself a nest, and one bird
returns, while the other remains; another flutters around, fills the grove with song, and chatters to
man." Similar descriptions of spring are scattered through the sermons and letters of later
Byzantine writers.
Illuminators were called upon to illustrate Gregory's ekphrasis in editions of his liturgical homilies.
Byzantine artists also portrayed the clichs of literary springtime in the context of the feast of the
Annunciation. The primary association of the feast with the season arose from the date of its
celebration, on the 25th. of March. For Byzantine writers there was a divine logic lying behind the
coincidence of the Annunciation with the renewal of nature; spring and renewal became constant
themes in the Greek literature on this feast. In several sermons an entire ekphrasis of spring
became an elaborate metaphor for the Annunciation. In the tenth century, for example, John
Kyriotes described the
- 26 flowering land, the singing birds, the leafing trees, the gentle streams, and the birds, the fishes
and the animals bringing forth their young.
Among surviving Byzantine paintings of the Annunciation the most striking portrayal of spring is to
be found in an icon of the late twelfth century at Mount Sinai. The iconography of this
Annunciation scene is extremely unusual. In front of the Virgin and the Angel runs a stream with
an irregular, indented bank. An extraordinary variety of sea creatures can be observed in the
water. There are herons and ducks in the river, while on land other birds flap their wings or bend
their necks to preen themselves. Behind the Virgin rises a tall ethereal building which supports a
little roof garden with trees. One of the trees affords a perch to two birds in its upper branches.
Above this garden, at the top of the building, two more birds sit in a nest which is balanced on the
ridge of the gabled roof.
The wealth of images in this Annunciation scene is unique in Byzantine art, and has not hitherto
been explained. Although there was a recognized iconography of the Virgin at the well or
fountain, it is unprecedented for her to sit enthroned in a landscape traversed by a river--a river,
moreover, which is teeming with all kinds of creatures. In portraying Mary in such a setting the
artist appears to have revived a device of ancient illusionism which had been exploited by Early
Christian artists. Among the closest parallels to the Byzantine icon are the mid-fourth century
dome mosaics of Santa Costanza in Rome which are now only known through water color copies.
Here the Old Testament scenes were arranged on a receding stage whose front edge was
created by the jagged bank of a river in the fore- ground, in which various sea creatures and river
birds disported themselves, just as an the icon.
Both the iconographic peculiarities and the stylistic references of the Sinai icon can be explained
by the literary tradition. For the artist has evidently attempted, like John Kyriotes, to embellish his
portrayal of the Annunciation with an ekphrasis of spring. It is possible that the artist of the icon
was partially guided in his portrayal of the ekphrasis by the earlier miniatures of St. Gregory's
New Sunday sermon. But it is difficult to imagine that the Sinai icon could have been created
without additional recourse to a more ancient model similar to the Santa Costanza mosaic. In
order to illustrate the classical conventions of the ekphrasis, the Byzantine artist made use of an
illusionistic river setting characteristic of Late Antique and Early Christian painting. The result was
a curious division in his style, which combined elements of illusionistic landscape from Antiquity

with the abstract gold background of a middle Byzantine Annunciation scene. The icon is an
example of selective naturalism inspired by a rhetorical text, a phenomenon which can be found
in other works of Byzantine art.
A New Basilica with Trefoil Sanctuary
A.H.S. Megaw, British School of Archaeology, Athens/Dumbarton Oaks
A basilica discovered this year at Knossos should be taken into account in discussing the
significance of tri-conch plans in Early Byzantine architecture. Its plan was recovered when the
site chosen
- 27 for the Medical Faculty of the University of Crete was tested for archaeological remains;
unfortunately, only small areas of stone paving and a few stretches of foundation wall were found
in situ.
The sanctuary prolonging the nave of a normal three-aisle naos was of the simplest trefoil plan,
an arrangement exceptional in Greece but closely matched in the fifth century at Cherson; it is
also akin to that of Paulinus' basilica at Cimitile-Nola (before 402). Unlike the martyrium
previously found at Knossos, the new basilica contained no burials. Instead, its isolated position,
the attachment of ancillary buildings to its small atrium and the presence of an enclosure wall are
all suggestive of a monastery.
If such it be, the prevalence of the tri-conch sanctuary in fifth-century Egyptian monasteries may
not be irrelevant in the light of the early dispersal of Egyptian monks.
The new Knossos basilica could support the view that the sanctuary of an Early Christian church
was conceived as an architectural evocation of the tomb and resurrection of Christ; but a liturgical
function for the lateral apses should not be ruled out. In any case, we now have a notable, if
embryonic forerunner on Cretan soil for the crucial seventh-century church of St. Titus at Gortyna,
where, in conjunction with lateral niches in the sanctuary, major apses close the North and South
arms of the inscribed-cross naos. It may be significant that where such major lateral apses
reappear in Middle Byzantine monastic churches their function as architectural receptacles for
antiphonal choirs is not in doubt.
VI. MIDDLE BYZANTINE HISTORY
The Hiatus in the Creation of the Balkan Themes
Frank E. Wozniak, University of New Mexico
Of the several questions which could be raised with regard to the development of the theme
system in the seventh, eighth, and ninth centuries, the problem of the chronological gap in the
establishment of new themes in the Balkans is one which does not seem to have been
satisfactorily examined. A consideration of this question is directly related to two other areas
where there has been considerable discussion and, in fact, substantial agreements first, the
proximate dates for the foundation of the several Balkan themes; second, the generally accepted
thesis of Ostrogorsky, Pertusi, Ferluga, Lemerle and others that the seventh century themes were
the result of a severe military threat from the Bulgars and Slavs and that the late eighth and ninth
century foundations reflect the consolidation and resurgence of the Byzantine state
- 28 in the Balkans and possibly reflect the process of rehellenization in parts of the southern Balkans.

An examination of the historical works of Theophanes and Nikephoros, the relevant


hagiographical and ecclesiastical sources, and the discussion of extant and reported architectural
structures in the Balkans seem to indicate that a reinterpretation of the circumstances and
conditions contributing to the development of the several Balkan themes is required. In large part,
the failure to recognize the potential importance of the chronological gap in thematic foundations
appears to have played an important part in the less than satisfactory aspects of previous
explanations of the origins of the Balkan themes.
In particular, this paper will suggest that the causes for the establishment of themes during the
two separate periods of foundation were largely similar in character; the Balkan themes were
emergency foundations intended to stave off further encroachments on the tenuous Byzantine
position in the Balkans. Secondly, the resurgence of Byzantine military power in the Balkans
during the reigns of Leo III and Constantine V produced the hiatus in the creation of themes. They
did not create any Balkan themes because theirs was a period of military strength. On the other
hand, military weakness and administrative disarray are consistently characteristic of the periods
of thematic foundations. Finally, rehellenization necessarily followed the creation of the themes
and did not precede it.
Some Reconsiderations on the Eunuchs during the Middle Byzantine Period
Spyros Stavrakas, University of Chicago
The eunuchs of the ninth and tenth centuries were a diverse group; many of them were native
born Byzantines. This latter circumstance was a crucial change from the fourth and fifth centuries
when most eunuchs were foreigners. Native Byzantine eunuchs were in a better position vis- avis the rest of society. They maintained ties with their families and were no longer social outcasts.
The sources were generous to them. Eunuchs appear as good warriors, churchmen and imperial
officials. They often perform notable deeds and show kindness and love for their fellow
Byzantines. Society slowly changed its attitude towards them. It no longer looked at all eunuchs
with scorn, instead while deploring their physical infirmity and pitying their fate, it accepted many
eunuchs as valuable individuals. Society began to judge each eunuch according to his own
qualities.
The relationship between many eunuchs and members of the provincial elite illustrate these
changing social attitudes. Elite members bought and recruited eunuchs for their own personal
coteries. These men were armed and trained and probably served their leaders just as their noneunuch comrades. Enough examples exist to prove that many of these eunuchs remained
physically vigorous after their castrations. Some of these eunuchs remained with their patrons
and eventually reached high rank in the government and army. The elite also made efforts to
enlist eunuchs serving the state, and especially in the palace, to their causes. It was not
- 29 considered demeaning for an elite member to deal with eunuchs. In its own way, therefore, the
relationship of the provincial elite with the various eunuchs in society often enhanced the elite's
power and extended their influence.
Legends of Nicephorus I's Bulgarian Expedition of 811
John Wortley, University of Manitoba
Legends tend to occur in clusters in Byzantine literature, usually around some distinguished event
or person, nearly always one of propitious significance. There is one small group of legends
however which is remarkable in that it relates to a highly unpropitious event: the defeat and death
of the Emperor Nicephorus I in 811. These legends also have the rare distinction that in three, if

not all four cases certain clues are to be found as to how the legend came into existence. This
paper is about one of those legends.
The first of the four is the Legend of the Martyrs of 811. It alleges that not ail of the Romans
perished in or after the battle (as Theophanes claims,) for Krum took certain live prisoners back in
to the hinterland, and that these subsequently died terrible deaths at his hands rather than save
their lives by denying their faith. In spite of its inherent credibility and likeliness, there are several
reasons for suspecting the veracity of this Legend of the Martyrs of 811, not the least of which is
that there is no mention of it by Theophanes, nor was there in the extant fragment of the Scriptor
Incertus de Leone Armenio until an interpolator working post 864 inserted one.
Research amongst the Synaxaria reveals certain disparities between the various entries
concerning the martyrs of 811, whilst the earliest manuscripts of the older Typicon of the Great
Church contain a very different and untypical. kind of entry at one of the relevant dates (26 July),
an entry which is little more than a blunt condemnation of the incompetence of Nicephorus that
brought about the catastrophe of 811. In subsequent Synaxaria this may have been gradually
softened into a bland "commemoration of our Christian brethren who fell in Bul- garia," and this in
turn, perhaps in the time of Nicephorus Phocas when the matter became crucial, may have raised
the question of whether all, or merely some, of the fallen of 811 were to be understood as here
being commemorated. It is suggested that the Legend of the Martyrs of 811 may have been the
response to this question of the Patriarch Polyeuctus and of a Church anxious to repel the idea
that all who fell in battle were to be numbered amongst the martyrs.
The Chronological Accuracy of Symeon the Logothete for the Years A.D. 813-845
Warren T. Treadgold, Seattle, Washington
It has long been the consensus of Byzantinists that no reliable narrative source exists for the
second period of iconoclasm (815-843). The history of this period has therefore been written by
choosing among the different accounts of four chroniclers of the mid-tenth century, none of whom
is considered wholly reliable: Symeon the Logothete, Joseph Genesius, Theophanes
Continuatus, and the Pseudo-Symeon. My thesis, on the contrary, is that for the years 813-845
Symeon the Logo- 30 thete based his Chronicle exclusively on two highly reliable sources which were composed in the
mid-ninth century, one covering the years 813-829 (Source A) and the other covering 829-845
(Source B). Because these sources were chronologically arranged, their accuracy can be
demonstrated by checking the dates of their entries.
My case is modeled on that made by the late Romilly Jenkins (DOP 19 [1965], 91-112) to show
that Symeon's account of the years 867-913 was exclusively based on contemporary annals.
Jenkins demonstrated that for these years the Logothete records events in perfectly accurate
chronological order. Symeon's chronology de- monstrably breaks down between 845 and 867.
But from 813 to 845 it seems to be accurate again, as appears when its main entries are
summarized and dated in the following table.
Entries from Source A: Reign of Leo V.
1. Leo is crowned July 11, 813
2. Bulgarians besiege Constantinople July 16, 813
3. Bulgarians sack Hadrianople early fall 813

4. Leo exiles Patriarch Nicephorus April 1, 815


5. Leo persecutes iconophiles 815-820
6. Leo is assassinated December 25, 820 Reign of Michael II.
7. Michael relaxes persecution of iconophiles early 821
8. Michael confirms ecclesiastical legislation of Leo early 821
9. Michael crowns son Theophilus (May 12?) 821*
10. Thomas the Slav marches on Constantinople Oct./Nov. 821
11. Thomas besieges Constantinople for one year Dec. 821-Nov. 822
12. Thomas abandons siege and plunders Thrace November 822
13. Michael defeats and kills Thomas mid-October 823
14. Arabs make conquests in Crete, Sicily, and Cyclades 826-828
15. Michael dies and Theophilus and Euphrosyne succeedOctober 2, 829 Entries from Source B:
Reign of Theophilus.
16. Theophilus marries Theodora June 5, 830
17. Euphrosyne retires to convent June 830
18. Theophilus executes assassins of Leo V summer 830
19. Theophilus begins persecution of iconophiles late 832/early 833
20. Theophobus deserts from Arabs to Byzantinesbeginning of 834
21. Theophilus redecorates Palace 834/836* 22. Theophilus punishes Petronas 834/836*
23. Theophilus betroths daughter Maria to Alexius Musele836
24. Theophilus and Manuel take Zapetra and SamosataMarch-April 837
25. Theophilus orders construction of Bryas Palacelate spring 837
26. Theophilus celebrates triumph late spring 837
27. Theophilus makes John the Grammarian Patriarch April 21, 838**
28. Arabs defeat Theophilus and kill Manuel [at Anzen] July 22, 838
29. Theophilus pays compensation for misappropriated horselate July/early Aug. 838*
30. Caliph sacks Amorium August 12, 838
31. Caliph returns to Syria with captives from Amorium late Aug./Sept. 838
32. Theophilus founds school under Leo the Mathematician late 838**

33. Theophilus builds Triconch, Phiale, and Mysterium late 838/early 839*
34. Theophilus brands Sts. Theophanes and Theodore Grapti July 18, 839**
35. Helmet of statue of Justinian falls and is replaced late 839/early 840*
36. Theophilus crowns son Michael (May 16?) 840
37. Theophilus founds hospice late 840/841*
38. Theophilus executes Theophobus and dies January 20, 842 Reign of Michael III.
39. Theodora deposes Patriarch John March 4, 843
40. Theodora restores icons March 11, 843
41. Theoctistus makes expedition against Crete March 18-later 843
42. Arabs defeat Theoctistus at Mauropotamum mid-843/844
43. Theoctistus forces Bardas into exile mid-843/844
44. Theoctistus builds himself Apsis Palace ca. 844 *Otherwise uncertain date **Controversial
date (to be discussed when paper is presented)
(on the text of Symeon's Chronicle, see Gyula Moravcsik in DOP 15 [1961], 110-122.)
Source A is evidently the same as the so-called "Epitome" postulated by several scholars (cf.
Moravcsik, Byzantinoturcica2 1, 515-518, though he believes that the "Epitome" ended in 842,
not 829). It paraphrased, interpolated, and continued the Chronographia of Theophanes (ended
813) and was also a source of George the Monk, who wrote during the reign of Michael III (842867). Source A must have been composed soon after the death of the former Emperor Michael I
in 845, which it mentioned. It was quite concise, and largely interested in ecclesiastical affairs
from an iconophile point of view.
Source B was probably a continuation of Source A. It seems to have been composed after the
downfall in 855 of Theoctistus, whom it criticized sharply. Because it noted that the Trullus Palace
of John the Grammarian remained uninhabited, Source B must have been composed before
865/866, when the palace was converted into the Monastery of St. Phocas. Source B is therefore
to be dated to about 860. It was considerably more detailed than Source A and appears to have
been written by a man familiar with court circles.
Therefore the Chronicle of Symeon has practically the value of a contemporary source for 813845, and should be adopted as our principal guide in writing the history of the second iconoclastic
period.
VII. HISTORY OF ART
The Knotted Column
Ioli Kalavrezou-Maxeiner, University of California, Los Angeles
Any scholar who studies Byzantine art--and manuscript illumination in particular--is familiar with
the pairs of knotted columns that frame canon tables and support architectural structures. The
earliest datable examples of such columns occur on steatite plaques of the mid to late tenth

century and in the Menologion


- 32 of Basil II (ca. 1000). Thereafter representations of knotted columns occur frequently as do the
columns themselves as an architectural motif of church decoration. Yet despite the wide-spread
distribution of these columns, their origin and meaning have never been explained.
The shape of the knot, it is true, has long been recognized as that of the so-called Herculean
knot. In the late antique period this knot is a motif found regularly in mosaics and jewelry, but it
disappears thereafter until its unexpected appearance on mid-Byzantine columns, where the knot
doubtless has maintained some of its apotropaic qualities.
It has been suggested that the knots on the columns were derived from antique representations
of drapery tied around columns, but this cannot account for the formation of the knot out of the
shafts of the column: the column is formed by multiples of two or more clustered shafts; the knot
is carved or depicted to give the impression that it was tied out of malleable column shafts. It is
curious to observe that the knots do not appear in representations of material that can be tied
naturally, such as ropes or cords, but only as part of architectural frameworks where they
contradict the actual function of a support.
Knotted columns occur in only a few places: for example, within the church they appear on the
iconostasis and as part of altars and baldachins; in manuscripts they appear in representations of
those structures and as the columns of arches of canon tables. That is, knotted columns are
connected with the sanctuary and generally open the way to or frame a holy place. More than
that, they allude to the holiest sanctuary of ancient Israel: the knotted columns derive through the
vagaries of philology from Jachin and Boaz, the famous columns that flanked the entrance to the
Solomonic temple. While it is unlikely that the actual Solomonic columns were knotted, they were
frequently considered so in Byzantine tradition. In many texts these columns are described as
having "pomegranates" down their shafts, but the word used can also be interpreted as "knotted"
or "intertwined." It is in the interpretation of the texts referring to the Solomonic temple that the
origin of the knotted column should be located. Romanesque art provides supplementary
evidence.
A Re-evaluation of the Sources of the "Archaic Group" of Wall Paintings in Cappadocia
Judith A. Cave, Pennsylvania State University
The so-called "archaic group" of wall paintings in Cappadocia has been attributed to the period
between the late ninth and the middle of the tenth century. Apart from these monuments, this
period is poorly represented in terms of the amount of material which has survived, either in the
capital or in provincial areas. They thus provide necessary material for an understanding of the
crucial period of Byzantine art immediately following Iconoclasm and preceding the Macedonian
Renaissance. It has been recognized that not all of the paintings in Cappadocia are purely
provincial works executed by local artists, but in certain cases are related to contemporary
Constantinopolitan art. Thus, for example, Kiliclar Kilise in the Goreme Valley has been related
both in terms of style and of iconography to metropolitan products such as the copy of the
Homilies of Gregory of Nazianzus in Paris, cod. gr. 510. Such relations between Cappadocian
wall paintings and contemporary art of the capital provide evidence for a
- 33more adequate evaluation of post-Iconoclastic Byzantine art but can only be precisely determined
on the basis of a more complete understanding of the chronological and artistic relationships
between the various "archaic group" programs.

There are only two inscriptions associated with these decorative programs which provide
evidence for dating. One of these belongs to the program of Tavsanli Kilise. On the basis of this
inscription there are two possible periods during which the paintings could have been executed;
913 to 920 or 945 to 948. The second inscription accompanies the paintings in Chapel 4 in the
Gullu Dere Valley, now referred to as Ayvali Kilise. It permits the same alternatives for dating as
the first inscription, and, in both cases, the earlier time period has most often been accepted.
Stylistic differences between these two Cappadocian programs have led scholars to attribute
them to two different trends or stylistic modes operating simultaneously in the region. The
Tavsanli mode is defined as a local version of the Constantinopolitan-inspired style of Ayvali.
Other members of the "archaic group" have been associated with each of these styles such as
Kiliclar Kilise with Ayvali and St. Eustace with Tavsanli. Their dating is dependent on degrees of
stylistic similarity with the two dated monuments. Thus, greater degrees of stylization or
abstraction are equated with chronological posteriority.
This interpretation is, however, inadequate as it ignores certain iconographic and stylistic
differences which suggest the use of different models by their artists. Certain elements are best
understood as deriving from a source which existed independently of the capital. This source,
provincial in origin, was introduced into Cappadocia with the late ninth century program of Kizil
Cukur and continued to be influential throughout the early tenth century, although its popularity
was secondary to that of the predominately Constantinopolitan-inspired mode of Kiliclar and
Ayvali. A complete definition of its characteristics is obscured by the fact that both sources were
often combined in a single program and the two became tightly interwoven. It can be partially
reconstructed, however, on the basis of western painting which is believed to contain reflections
of Italian art of the eighth and ninth centuries. Both sources must be taken into account for an
accurate understanding of the relations between various programs of the "archaic group" and of
the relation between metropolitan and provincial traditions of this period.
Painted Pictures of Pictures: The Imitations of Icons in Fresco
Ellen C. Schwartz, Eastern Michigan University
This paper will treat the imitation of icons in fresco painting which appear in Comnenian and
Paleologan art from Constantinople to the Slavic lands but which have, until now, attracted scant
notice in the scholarly literature. These frescoed depictions of icons are surprisingly true to life,
including inscriptions, frames, and hanging rings. Occasionally even the nails or hooks "attaching"
these "icons" to the wall are carefully indicated as well. After presenting a compendium of these
examples, the paper will treat the appearance of the form, its extent in time and location, and its
significance within fresco programs of the
- 34
later Byzantine era.
The earliest depictions of these frescoed icons occur in the eleventh century at the church of
Hagia Sofia in Ohrid, painted around the year 1050. Several examples occur in the twelfth
century, at Asinou on Cyprus (1103), Djurdjevi Stupovi in Serbia (1168), the double church at
Bakovo in Byzantine- controlled Bulgaria (mid twelfth century layer), and Samari in Messina (last
years of the twelfth century). A number of frescoed icons appear in the churches in the Serbian
state of Raka during the thirteenth century: the Virgin's church at Studenica (1209), ia (12191234), and the Holy Apostles church at Pe (ca. 1240-60). One framed icon also appears in the
Metropolitan church of St. Demetrius in Mistra from the year 1291. The form continues into fresco
programs of the fourteenth century; Agios Nikolaos in Mani from the second quarter of the
century, Taxiarchos in Kastoria (1359-60), Psaa in Macedonia (1365-71), and the church at
Ramaa from the end of the century all include frescoed depictions of icons in their decorative
programs. One example of the frescoed icon form has come to light in Constantinople, as part of

an undated layer in the Kalenderhane Camii, and similar imitation icons are found in mosaics in
Italy from various centuries, done under strong artistic influence from Byzantium.
Despite their wide extension in time and location, certain features of the frescoed icons remain
fairly uniform. The icons depict primarily busts or halflength portraits of men dressed as bishops
in polystavrion and omophorion, though they range in rank from the great church fathers to locally
venerated churchmen. The icon forms seem to be favored for certain locations within the church
decor, primarily the lower zones of the apse. The examples cited above will be examined to
ascertain reasons for these uniformities. The men depicted will be grouped to see whether or not
a certain set were favored for this type of representation. The location of these depictions in the
church will be discussed, and an origin in liturgical practice suggested. Finally, provincial poverty
will be offered as another reason for the appearance of the fresco icon form, a substitution of an
economical painted imitation for a costly painted and gilded original.
The Palace of the Lascarids at Nymphaeum
Joby Patterson, La Grande, Oregon
As contemporary historians sort through the sources, the significance of the site of Nymphaeum
for the Emperors of Nicaea is being increasingly realized.
The palace was apparently built by John Vatatzes about 1222. The fact that it is one of only four
remaining Byzantine imperial palaces built after 1204 is enough to make it important. It was
probably the first displaying Western influences not heretofore seen in imperial Byzantine
audience-halls. Since at least two subsequent imperial audience-halls were built on basically the
same plan and design as that found at Nymphaeum, the Nymphaeum palace either set a
precedent, or all the audience-halls following the design and plan of Nymphaeum form a class
whose predecessors are now gone. In any case, the significance of the palace at Nymphaeum
has been underestimated.
The remains consist of an imposing, rectangular, hollow shell standing in isolation on a plain. An
ashlar masonry ground level was topped by two levels
- 35
of mortared rubble separated by bands of flat brick stringcourses. Centered in each of the long
walls of the ground level and flanked by pairs of loopholes were openings, allowing for passage
through the building. A crossvault probably spanned the center area, linking the openings, and
probably had barrel vaults on either side. At the middle level, the long facades were identical,
containing six windows each. This story was covered by a longitudinal barrel vault intersected in
the center by a crossvault. The top level of the long west facade contained pairs of windows
flanking a centralized element which was contained within an arch the same size as the
crossvault located directly below. The east facade was almost certainly identical, except that the
center element probably differed. Like the audience-hall at Mistra and probably the Tekfur Saray,
the Nymphaeum audience-hall must have had a semi-domed throne apse in one of its long
facades. The opposing void must have been filled by a full-length open element--such as a
loggia--very possibly incorporating an arcade, and serving as a place of appearances. Stairways
were contained in the north wall. Internal evidence, and the structure's semi-fortified nature
suggest a flat, crenelated roof.
There are apparently no specific extant prototypes for the palace within Byzantine or western
European architecture. The palace is an interesting fusion of motifs from both traditions. It
probably combined both the architectural constructs and motifs necessary for Byzantine
ceremony and essential for symbolizing divine royalty with the Western rectangular audience- hall
plan, elevated over vaulted foundations. It must also be connected to the audience-hall
gatehouse form, known not only in Byzantium, but well-known in the West. The origins of its

sober, multi-tiered monumentality and vaulting system tightly integrated with the facade design
must be sought in Romano- Italian tradition, and may be specifically derived from mediaeval
Italian fortresses and towers, or palazzi through colonial houses of Galata.
Finally, information from Nymphaeum has implications in the question of the date of the Tekfur
Saray: it was built under Michael VIII. Also, the niche at the Tekfur Saray was probably intended
for a throne.
Amalfi's Byzantine Connection: Art in Context
Robert P. Bergman, Harvard University
From the middle of the ninth through the eleventh century the independent maritime duchy of
Amalfi flourished as the most international and cosmopolitan of the Italian trading communities.
By 1100, Venice and Genoa more than rivaled her status as a pivotal link between the Byzantine
and Islamic East on the one hand and western Europe on the other but, even so, Amalfi
continued to prosper--now as part of grander empires rather than independently--well into the
fourteenth century. Although the notion that Amalfi's prosperity was solely the result of a special
and favored position granted to her merchants by the Byzantine emperors has had to be revised
with recognition of her important Islamic connections, it nevertheless remains true that
association with the Byzantine Empire was a crucial factor in maintaining Amalfi's commercial
vitality and in defining her cultural/artistic character.
Amalfi first appears in written records in the last decade of the sixth century; at this time, as part
of the Duchy of Naples, the city was formally
- 36 a dependency of the Empire. Even after her "declaration of independence" in 839 Amalfi
continued to recognize at least nominal Byzantine suzerainity. Amalfitan political leaders and
members of the nobility from the ninth through the eleventh centuries often were the recipients of
titles or dignities bestowed by the Byzantine emperor, among which that of Patricius appears to
have ranked highest.
In the tenth and eleventh centuries the Amalfitans must have maintained quite an establishment
in the Byzantine capital. Pantaleone, son of Maurus of Amalfi, had a very large house there where
hospitality was offered to Gisulf of Salerno and his party during their visit in 1062. There were two
monastic foundations in Constantinople belonging to the Amalfitans: Sta. Maria de Latina and St.
Saviour, located in the midst of the traders' quarter near the Golden Horn, ministered to the
spiritual needs of a sizeable merchant community. It was only after the conquest of Amalfi by the
Normans, hated enemy of the Eastern Empire, that the Amalfitans began to lose their privileged
position in Byzantium. This is born out by the famous bull of Emperor Alexis I Comnenus (1082)
that demanded payment of an annual fee to the church of San Marco in Venice by the Amalfitans
resident in the Empire. Yet, well after this date significant contacts between Amalfi and the
Byzantines continued to exist.
With this general historical background in mind, I intend to examine a series of buildings and
works of art -- both Amalfitan products and Byzantine imports, ranging in date from c. 1060 to c.
1200 -- that make tangible the relationship between the two spheres. Several pertinent texts will
also be discussed.
VIII. LATE ANTIQUITY: HISTORY AND THEOLOGY
Eusebius and Constantine
T.D. Barnes, University of Toronto

Eusebius of Caesarea has traditionally been presented as a close adviser of the emperor
Constantine, as a courtier-bishop able effectively to influence imperial policy in ecclesiastical
matters. This view of the relationship between the bishop and the emperor, however, is principally
deduced from Eusebius' Life of Constantine, whose explicit picture of Constantine has often been
discussed, but whose implicit picture of Eusebius has usually been taken on trust. A review of the
known facts about the contacts between the two men in fact suggests a very different estimate of
Eusebius' standing among his contemporaries.
Eusebius, born c. 262, was more than sixty when he became a subject of Constantine, who
never, as emperor, visited
- 37 Palestine. After 324, as before, Eusebius devoted himself to scholarship and to his duties as
bishop of Caesarea. He lived far from the imperial court, and was, therefore, normally unable to
participate in political decisions. Eusebius met Constantine only rarely (probably on no more than
four separate occasions after 324), so that he was no more than an occasional visitor at court,
with no greater standing than many other bishops. When the Life of Constantine (left unfinished
on its author's death in 339) consistently depicts Eusebius as a close confidant of Constantine, a
distortion of the truth, whether deliberate or unconscious, must be suspected. Hence Eusebius'
interpretation of Constantine in the Life should be assessed as the product of a provincial
academic who could not resist the temptation to glorify himself, not as the product of a politician
who knew the emperor intimately.
Germanus at Antioch
William N. Bayless, Rutgers University
Germanus had an important assignment in connection with the Second Persian War (540-545).
Chosroes' invasion of Syria threatened Antioch. Justinian sent Germanus to the city with 300
soldiers as an escort to organize the defense of the city.1 Justinian promised that a large army
would follow.
Germanus' first act was an inspection of the walls of Antioch.2 Although in most areas they were
in satisfactory condition, Germanus noticed from Mt. Orocasias that a large, broad rock offered an
easy vantage point to assailants. To remedy this problem he proposed either that a trench should
be dug between the walls and the rock, or that a tower be constructed on the rock connected with
the city walls. The engineers in Antioch replied that there was insufficient time for either of these
projects and that to begin either without completing it would only point out to the enemy a
favorable spot for an assault.
Downey has criticized Procopius' account. He believes that Germanus acted discreditably at
Antioch and that Procopius has tried to conceal this fact.3 Downey calls attention to a transaction
discussed by Malalas but not mentioned by Procopius.4 Malalas states that while at Antioch
Germanus purchased silver from fleeing residents at one-fourth to one-sixth its value. Downey
interprets this to mean that Germanus took advantage of the misfortune of the Antiochenes to
enrich himself.
Yet there is another much more plausible reason for this incident which Downey has completely
overlooked. The army which Justinian had promised failed to arrive.5 This fact together with the
weakness of the walls meant that, if the city was to be saved, it had to be done by diplomatic
means. Germanus and the
- 38 -

leaders of Antioch immediately perceived this. Accordingly they dispatched Megas, the bishop of
Beroea, to Chosroes in the hope of buying him off.6 There was some reason for believing this
might be successful. Chosroes had abandoned his siege of Hierapolis for a payment of 2,000
pounds of silver, it should be noticed. Chosroes was also willing to leave Beroea alone in return
for 4,000 pounds of silver.7 But the city was sacked when the inhabitants could produce only
2,000 pounds.
If Antioch was to be spared, there was obviously a need for an even larger sun. This is the
probable explanation for the transaction recorded by Malalas. It offered advantages to each side.
The wealthy who were fleeing would be able to save some of their money since it would be in a
much lighter, easier to carry form. Germanus would have the larger sum that was badly needed if
Megas' embassy was successful. Malalas does not say that this was a private transaction by
Germanus. If we assume that it was a public transaction, it fits perfectly into Procopius' account of
the decision made by Germanus and the leaders of Antioch.
1 Procopius BP 2.6.9.
2 Procopius BP 2.6.10-13. I am convinced that Glanville Downey, "The Persian Campaign in
Syria in A.D. 540," Speculum, XXVIII (1953), 347 is mistaken in saying that this rock did not exist.
Apart from the fact that Procopius could hardly lie about the topography of one of the largest
cities in the Empire, this feature is also mentioned in an entirely different context where there is
no mention of Germanus (De Aed. 2.10.9).
3 Glanville Downey, op. cit., p. 346.
4 Malalas 480.1-5.
5 Procopius BP 2.6.15.
6 Procopius BP 2.6.22-24.
7 Procopius BP 2.7.5-13.
Avitus, Marcian and Diplomacy in A.D. 455-456
Ralph W. Mathisen, University of Wisconsin
In June, 455 the Vandal Geiseric sacked Rome and carried off to Carthage Eudoxia, the wife of
Va1entinian III and daughter of Theodosius II, and her daughters Placidia and Eudocia. With the
western throne vacant, the Gallic aristocrat Epar- chius Avitus was declared Augustus at Arles in
July, and in early October he arrived
- 39 at Rome. There he was faced with several potential sources of opposition: 1) the Vandals, 2)
Marcian, the legitimate emperor in Constantinople, 3) Majorian and Ricimer, the commanders of
the Italian army, and 4) the Italian senators, who were accustomed to control the high offices of
state in Rome.
Avitus immediately took steps to deal with these possible enemies: he obtained recognition from
the Roman senate (Hyd.163,166); he used his Gothic allies to hold Ricimer and Majorian in check
(Joh.Ant.fr.202); and he sent embassies to Marcian requesting recognition (Hyd.166) and to
Geiseric demanding that he adhere to the old foedus and threatening him with war if he did not
(Priscus fr.24).
The outcomes of the diplomatic efforts of Avitus at Carthage and Constantinople seem to have

been contingent to a great deal upon the policy of Marcian towards the Vandals. If at all possible,
Marcian wished to maintain peace with Geiseric (e.g. Procop.Vand.1.4), and this could deter him
from treating with Avitus, who had an aggressive Vandal policy. Marcian, attempting to achieve a
peaceful settlement, sent two embassies to Carthage, but his initially conciliatory gestures were
rebuffed by Geiseric, who sent a fleet to attack Sicily and Italy and who refused to return the
captive women (Priscus fr.24), the one point upon which Marcian could not compromise. For
Marcian, whose hand had been forced, cooperation with Avitus now became attractive.
Avitus, however, although he was successful in forestalling Vandal raiding in 456, had failed to
conciliate the Italian senators, and by the early summer of 456, when Marcian was probably
prepared to come to terms with him, he had been expelled from Rome by the senators amidst
civil disorder (Joh.Ant.fr.202, Greg.Tur.H.F.2.11).
The antipathy of the Italian senators would have been largely based upon Avitus' preference for
Gauls in the high offices of state, a practice which probably applied to his embassy to
Constantinople, since it is likely that his ambassador was his cura palatii, the Narbonese
aristocrat Consentius, who as tribunus et notarius under Valentinian III had served on several
legations to the East (Sid.Carm. 23.228-240,428-432).
The potential of an Avitus-Marcian combination eventually may have influenced the policy of
Geiseric. The persistent tradition that the imperial captives were returned at the end of the reign
of Marcian may reflect a re- opening of negotiations on the part of Geiseric. But Avitus' inability to
maintain himself in the West and the resulting ascendency of Ricimer destroyed the possibility of
a coalition, and one of the best opportunities ever for joint action against the Vandals had been
lost.
Marcian and Attila: A Reassessment of Imperial Policy
Robert L. Hohlfelder, University of Colorado
On 25 August, A.D. 450, Marcian, a retired military officer and candidate for the imperial office of
Pulcheria Augusta and Aspar the Alan, assumed the Byzantine throne, following an accident and
the subsequent death of Theodosius Il during the previous month. While all transitions of power
within the Byzantine state might be judged momentous events, particularly when the succession
was not obvious, as in this case, few coronations had taken place or would occur against such an
ominous backdrop. Beyond the frontiers of empire, but very much a factor in affairs of state, was
Attila, sole king of the Huns and recent conqueror of the imperial
- 40 armies. At the time of Marcian's elevation, however, belligerency between the East Romans and
the Huns had nominally ended.
Although the threat of Attila would seem to have afforded a most inauspicious circumstance for
new initiatives, Marcian chose to implement a dramatic change of foreign policy very early in his
reign. The new emperor unilaterally repudiated the treaty, negotiated during the last years of the
reign of Theodosius by his ministers, Nomus and Anatolius, which had ended the hostilities that
had commenced in A.D. 447. With militant resolve, Marcian declared that the tribute fixed by this
settlement would no longer be paid. His decision to end imperial acquiescence to Attila's extortion
provided another occasion for war, if either side had wished to renew the conflict. In A.D. 450,
neither party moved. Marcian had calculated correctly. Attila's attentions and energies had been
committed to his forthcoming military campaign against West Rome.
While Marcian's sudden reversal of his predecessor's Hunnic policy of negotiations for survival
has been variously interpreted, the standard monographic treatment of this period condemns
Marcian's actions as untimely and characterized by folly.1 It is possible, however, to present a far

more favorable assessment of Marcian's policy from the facts as they are known.
Marcian's abrogation of Theodosius' treaty with Attila can be seen as the opening salvo of a
daring, multi dimensional strategy conceived and enacted with the highest stakes in mind.
Imperial actions and diplomatic encounters aimed to end or significantly reduce the Hunnic
danger, to secure recognition from Valentinian III, emperor of West Rome, to strengthen the new
emperor's internal position, and to provide assistance to the West at a time of ultimate crisis.
Moreover, it seems that such initiatives could have been undertaken with the assumption that
even total failure would not have weakened Byzantium more than the continuance of Theodosius'
policy of appeasement. Attila's unexpected, but fortuitous, death clouds any final evaluation of the
outcome of Marcian's actions. But in scope and execution, Marcian's diplomatic and military
maneuvers at a moment of utmost peril should be recognized as an outstanding example of
Byzantine statecraft.
1 E. A. Thompson, A History of Attila and the Huns (Oxford, 1948) 135 and 199.
476 Before 476
Frank Clover, University of Wisconsin
Speculations about the decline and fall of the Roman Empire are almost as old as the Empire
itself. Polybius chronicled the rise of Rome's overseas empire, and wondered about its eventual
demise. One of the Senecas termed the agony of the late Republic the "prima senectus" of the
Roman state. Some contemporaries of the crisis of the third century A.D. saw the Empire's end at
hand. Alaric's sack of Rome and related events of the early fifth century sparked a heated debate
between Christians and pagans over the collapse of civilization.
With the benefit of hindsight some historians have seen later events - those occurring around
A.D. 476 -- as crucial to the future of the Roman Empire. Of late they have sought support for
their interpretation in the
- 41 sources, only to gather a meager harvest. In his Chronicle Count Marcellinus related the
deposition of Romulus Augustulus in 476, and then proclaimed the "Hesperium regnum" at an
end. Later Jordanes adopted Marcellinus' interpretation, quoting it verbatim in his Getica and
Romana. Recent critics have seen not Symmachus' Historia Romana, but eastern writings -perhaps Eustathius of Epiphaneia's Epitome or the fasti of Constantinople -- as Marcellinus'
source.
Despite recent improvements in the understanding of the sources for the events around 476,
there remains a flaw to the present approach to events of the late fifth century. Historians have
not paid enough attention to the fifth- and sixth-century sources' understandings of the events of
the period. Viewed on its own terms, Count Marcellinus' proclamation of the end of the Hesperium
regnum in 476 is one of several interpretations of Roman doom developed in light of events
occurring after Alaric's sack of Rome. Interestingly enough, several fifth- and sixth- century
authors saw events occurring after 410 and before 476 as harmful to the well-being of the Roman
Empire. In the interest of brevity I propose to discuss the interpretations of two of the following
authors (one from each category):
(1) Authors writing before 476 and hence viewing preceding events as crucial: (a) the Donatist
compiler of the fourth and fifth editions of the Liber genealogus (A.D. 455 and 463) (b) Sidonius
Apollinaris (Panegyric to Avitus) (c) a Persian interpolator of Nestorius' Bazaar of Heracleides (d)
Priscus of Panium (e) Hydatius
(2) Authors writing after 476 but seeing preceding events as crucial:

(a) Count Marcellinus (whose proclamation of the end of the Western Empire in 476 is a
restatement of an entry under the year 454!) (b) Damascius of Damascus (Vita Isidori) (c)
Procopius of Caesarea.
IX. THEMES IN LATE BYZANTINE HISTORY AND THOUGHT
The Posthumous Cult of the Patriarch Anasthasius I of Constantinople
Alice-Mary Talbot, Dumbarton Oaks
Athanasius I of Constantinople was a controversial figure during his two patriarchates (12891293; 1303-1309). Twice appointed by the pious Andronicus II, and twice forced to resign by
hostile elements within the Church, he had both detractors and supporters in the Byzantine
capital. He was hated by bishops, Arsenites, Uniates, some monks and the clergy of Haghia
Sophia, but popular with the common people, for
- 42 whose welfare he had a vital concern. He was also venerated by the monks and nuns of the
double monastery of Xerolophos which he had founded in Constantinople, and where he retired
after both his abdications from the patriarchal throne.
Using as a primary source the unpublished oration of Theoctistus the Studite on The Translation
of the Relics of the Patriarch Athanasius1, this paper will describe the popular cult of Athanasius
which developed in Constantinople after his death (sometime between 1310 and 1323). When the
beloved founder of their monastery passed away, the monks of Xerolophos buried him in very
damp earth within the precincts of the monastery. Three years later his disciples decided to build
a chapel on the grave site, and, in the course of their excavations, discovered the former
patriarch's body, miraculously preserved. Joyfully they took his remains and placed them in a
sarcophagus in the monastic church, dedicated to Christ the Savior. The marvelous healing
power of the patriarch's relics soon became evident, and people flocked to the church to be
relieved of psychiatric and physical disorders.
The Oration on the Relics describes the miraculous cures of 32 individuals who were healed by
visiting the relics; some patients were cured merely by touching the holy sarcophagus, others
drank water which had been blessed by contact with the rel- ics, yet others drank or anointed
themselves with oil from the vigil lamp which hung above the sarcophagus. A few people were
relieved of their symptoms by incubation, or by inhaling the fumes from burning pieces of
Athanasius' garments. The afflic- tions of the visitors were varied, including cancer, blindness,
deafness, incontin- ency, possession by evil spirits, paralysis, abscesses and hemorrhage.
New evidence2 will be presented for the actual canonization of Athanasius by the synod in
Constantinople, as a result of the numerous miracles at his tomb attested by eyewitnesses. By
the 1330's he was commemorated in holy icons, and his feast day was celebrated in the
cathedral of Haghia Sophia.
Athanasius' cult certainly continued until the end of the 14th c. when the Russian pilgrim Ignatius
of Smolensk visited his tomb, and his relics were still preserved at Xerolophos at the fall of
Constantinople in 1453. Soon after, due to the erroneous belief that his remains were those of the
4th c. Patriarch of Alexandria, they were transported to Venice, where they stayed for half a
millennium. Most recently, the relics were transfer-ed to Alexandria as a gift to the Coptic
Orthodox Church!
1 Logos eis tn anakomidn tou leipsanou tou en hagiois patros hmn Athanasiou patriarchou
Knstantinoupoles, in cod. Const. Chalc. mon. 64 [= Istanbul Patriarchate Library, nunc 57, olim

64J, fols. 157r-199r. 2 Philotheus, Tomus Synodicus II contra Prochorum Cydonium, PG 151, col.
712.
Dogma and Humanism: The Fate of Philosophy and Theology in Byzantium
Lowell M. Clucas, University of Washington
It is a peculiar fact of history that, although the Byzantine Empire inherited the greater part of the
corpus of classical Greek philosophy, it failed to produce a major new synthesis of philosophy and
instead confined itself, by and large, to commentaries and eclectic. adaptations. While
philosophical developments in the West demonstrate little dynamism or momentum of creativity
until the later eleventh century, the development of philosophy in the West in the High Middle
Ages rapidly
- 43 becomes revolutionary: a powerful and increasingly original as well as ongoing movement,
certainly by comparison with the still quite conservative use of classical philosophy in Byzantium.
Historians have had something of a tradition of waxing eloquent on the supposed entropy of the
classical heritage in Byzantium, in the domain of philosophy as well as in other intellectual fields
whose starting point lies in Antiquity; some elements of forward momentum are nowadays usually
conceded, but on the whole the conservatism and retrospective mentality of Byzantine authors
and their productions are still seen as having suffered from a lack of creative originality. Voil la
dcadence! That this model of intellectual history, with its Janus face of alarming decay on the
one hand and charm of fin de sicle on the other does not work for the history of the visual arts in
Byzantium, has not deflected any historian or observer of the period who is under the spell of the
metaphor of biological exhaustion. The frequent fixation, however sublimated, in modern
historiography, on Byzantium's apparent lack of creative response to the classical heritage, has
blinded some scholars to the question of the causes of cultural and intellectual change in East
and West. Indeed, the seemingly inadequate response of Byzantium to what was, after all, its
very major share in the inheritance of the Ancient World has been represented, all too often, as a
phenomenon which somehow explains itself! That is, Byzantium was just not that creative. The
slightly ludicrous circularity of this reasoning has, unfortunately, rarely troubled its exponents very
much.
However, Zeitgeist or no, the intellectual representatives of a society cannot be separated from
the values, problems, and, above all the necessities involved in the totality of circumstances
obtaining at any given time in their society as a whole. It is within this inevitably limiting context
that whatever possibilities there are emerge. And when we apply such a criterion as a heuristic
tool to the question of the fate of philosophy in Byzantium, very different answers emerge from
those with which a part of the learned public is still, too often, conventionally titillated, while it is
swept on to the grand fallacy of an impression of some originally and innately superior quality to
be glimpsed in the West. This paper, then, attempts to focus on the intellectual history of
Byzantium, especially in the domain of philosophy, in the context of the overall structure of
Byzantine society as it itself developed from the sixth through the twelfth century out of the
pressure of internal changes and external forces and, indeed, their interaction. Hopefully, this
examination will show that, however unreasonable was the behavior of individuals, the outcome
of the history of philosophy in Byzantium was not, somehow, paradoxical, and, therefore, if one
likes, not unreasonable. That is, there were reasons, and very good ones, for the course of
events in Byzantium's intellectual history, inasmuch as this course of events was significantly
connected to dominating political and social structures as well as certain crystallized attitudes
which, taken together, dictated, to a very large extent, what opportunities could be seized and
which avenues would be closed.
1453 in Jewish Tradition

Steven Bowman, Hebrew University of Jerusalem


The fall of Constantinople signaled the end of an era for the Greek- speaking peoples of the
Balkans. For the Byzantine Orthodox, Tuesday 29, 1453 became the first "Black Tuesday." For
the Armenians and Jews, l453 had its own meaning. Several Armenian elegies have survived to
give substance to the sense of loss
- 44 experienced by that community. On the other hand, the Armenians succeeded in receiving total
autonomy within the successor state of the Ottomans which included independence from
Orthodox interference in their social and religious affairs.
For the Greek-speaking Jews of the Byzantine Empire, the year 1453 had immense
consequences. An unpublished dirge from Crete, written immediately after word of the disaster
reached the island, bears witness to the first impression that the news made. Subsequent
interpretations of the event place it within the messianic literature of the late fifteenth and early
sixteenth centuries. To the Greek-speaking Jews the fall of Constantinople was the first stage in
the imminent redemption of the people Israel in the ongoing battle of log and Magog that
disrupted the Islamic and Christian worlds of the fifteenth century. Constantinople in traditional
literature was known as Roma rabbati--Roma magna, heir to Rome's traditional policies and
attitudes toward the Jews. The sack of New Rome, then, in l453 was interpreted as the first half
of the messianic vision; the second half was completed with the sack of Rome herself in 1527.
Together the two meant the end of Rome's domination and contributed to the messianic
interpretation of the rise of the Islamic Empire of the Ottomans. Needless to say Islamic
messianism interpreted the conquest of Constantinople in the light of its own rich tradition.
There were more practical consequences of the Islamic conquest for the Jews. The history of the
Greek-speaking or Romaniote communities was completely changed. All of the Greek Jews of
Thrace and Macedonia were uprooted from their homes and resettled by Mehmet II in
Constantinople as part of his policy of rebuilding the vacant city. A central Jewish authority was
established under the leadership of Moses Capsali, the first haham basi of the Ottoman Empire.
Both Capsali and his successor Elijah Mizrahi were Cretans. Their new-found independence from
Byzantine and Orthodox control allowed the Greek Jews to establish the basic patterns for
subsequent Ottoman Jewish history. With the arrival of large numbers of Spanish and
Portuguese-speaking immigrants at the end of the fifteenth century, the tensions between the
newcomers and older settlers increased until, with the death of Mizrahi, the central Jewish
authority broke down due to a number of internal factors. The institution itself lost most of its
authority until the nineteenth century. Moreover, the Greek-speaking community in Istanbul was
nearly totally Sephardaized. Only in Epirus, Crete, and in scattered places in the Peloponnesus
and occasional islands did Greek Jewish traditions survive. Still the story of Greek-speaking
Ottoman Jewry remains to the present an untold story. Were importantly its history during the two
transitional generations from 1453-1527 has an impact upon the history of the Greek Orthodox
community during this period, in particular the attempts of Gennadius Scholarius to establish a
now and viable identity for the defeated and disillusioned Orthodox community.
- 45Officers and Committees of the Byzantine Studies Conference
Officers for 1978-79
President: Margaret Frazer, History of Art, Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York 10028
Vice-President: Anthony Cutler, History of Art, Pennsylvania State University, University Park
16802
Secretary-Treasurer: David B. Evans, Theology, St. John's University, Kew Gardens, N.Y. 11415

Governing Board
To serve until the 1981 Conference:
Alan Cameron (History; Columbia University)
Gary Vikan (History of Art; D.O.)
Timothy E. Gregory (History; Ohio State University)
Slobodan uri (History of Art; University of Illinois)
To serve until the 1980 Conference:
David B. Evans (Theology; St. John's University)
Margaret Frazer (History of Art; Metropolitan Museum of Art)
George Majeska (History; University of Maryland)
Milo Velimirovi (Musicology; University of Virginia)
To serve until the 1979 Conference:
Annemarie Weyl Carr (History of Art; Southern Methodist University)
Walter E. Kaegi, Jr. (History; University of Chicago)
Alice-Mary Talbot (History; D.O.)
David H. Wright (History of Art; University of California, Berkeley)
To serve until the 1978 Conference:
John W. Barker (History; University of Wisconsin)
Anthony Cutler (History of Art; Pennsylvania State University)
Nancy evenko (History of Art; Cambridge, Massachusetts)
Speros Vryonis (History; University of California, Los Angeles)
Program Committee for the 1978 Conference:
Annemarie Weyl Carr (Southern Methodist University)
Roberta Chestnut (Emory University)
George T. Dennis, S.J. (Catholic University)
Ilene Forsyth (University of Michigan)
Gary Vikan (Dumbarton Oaks)
Timothy E. Gregory (Ohio State University), Chair
Local Arrangements for the 1978 Conference:
Ilene Forsyth
John V.A. Fine, Jr., Chair
- 46 Index of Speakers
Abrahamse, D. deF.: Pre-Iconoclastic Monasteries p.6
Barnes, T.D.: Eusebius and Constantine p.36
Bayless, W.N.: Germanus at Antioch p.37
Bergman, R.B.: Amalfi's Byzantine Connection: Art in Context p.35
Bishop, J.: Papal Historiography and Papal Politics p.1
Bowman, S.: 1453 in Jewish Tradition p.43
Cave, J.A.: The "Archaic Group" of Wall Paintings in Cappadocia p.32

Clover, F.: 476 Before 476 p.40


Clucas, L.M.: The Fate of Philosophy and Theology in Byzantium p.42
uri, S.: The Architectural Significance of the Hilandar Katholikon p.14
Cutler, A.: Hunting Ivories and Hunting Mosaics p. 21
Davis-Weyer, C.: Roman Mosaics p. 4
Duffy, J.: Greek Fragments of John of Alexandria p.13
Evans, J.A.S.: The De Aedificiis of Procopius as Panegyric p.9
Fisher, E.A.: Elegantissime: Greek Translation Style p.8
Hanalawalt, E.A.: Byzantium: the Norman View p. 7
Hohlfelder, R.L.: Marcian and Attila: A Re-assessment of Imperial Policy p.39
Holum, K.G.: The Trier Ivory, Adventus Iconography, and St. Steven p.24
Kalavrezou-Maxeiner, I.: The Knotted Column p.31
Kavadas, D-E.: Western Views of Byzantine Music in the 18th Century p.12
Kleinbauer, W.E.: Identification of the Orant Figures in Thessaloniki p.22
Kondoleon, C.: An Openwork Gold Cup p.20
Littlewood, A.R.: A Byzantine Oak and its Classical Acorn p.9
Macomber, W.: Byzantine Holdings of the Hill Monastic Manuscript Library p.10
Maguire, H.; The Ekphrasis of Spring in Byzantine Art p.25
Mateji, M.: Hilandar Codex 292: An Unusual Martyrologion p.19
Mathisen, R.W.: Avitus, Marcian and Diplomacy in A.D. 455-456 p.38
Megaw, A.H.S.: A New Basilica with Trefoil Sanctuary p.26
Miller, D.H.: The 8th Century Papacy: Political Theory p.1
Mitchell, J.: The Gospels of St. Augustine and Painting in Rome p.2
Osborne, J.: Byzantine Influence on Roman Painting p.3
Patterson, J.: The Palace of the Lascarids at Nymphaeum p. 34
Pope, R.: Journey of Our Father Agapius to Paradise p.19
Popovi, L.: The Hilandar Cameos p.17
Robinson, D.F.: The Hilandar Project to Date p.18

Scarborough, J.: Some Sources and Problem in Byzantine Medicine p.13


Schwartz, E.C.: Painted Pictures of Pictures p.33
Stavrakas, S.: Eunuchs during the Middle Byzantine Period p.28
Strievi, G.: The Trapeza of Chilanderi p.15
Talbot, A-M.: The Posthumous Cult of the Patriarch Anasthasius I p.41
Touliatos-Banker, D.: The Asmatikos Orthros p.11
Treadgold, W.T.: The Chronological Accuracy of Symeon the Logothete p.29
Vikan, Go: The Trier Ivory, Adventus Iconography, and St. Stephen p.24
Wortley, J.: Legends of Nicephorus Is Bulgarian Expedition of 811 p.29
Wozniak, F.E.: The Hiatus in the Creation of the Balkan Themes p.27

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