Cat. 8 Portrait Bust of a Woman

The icon of the Art Institute of Chicago’s collection of ancient art is a detail of this beautiful Roman portrait bust that captures two locks of hair curling sensuously on a young lady’s neck (fig. 4.30). Nothing is known about either the artist or the subject except for what the sculpture itself reveals: that the former was exceptionally talented, and the latter, with her elaborate hairstyle, luxurious garments, and bejeweled [glossary:diadem], was a woman of wealth and distinction.

The work was cut from a single block of finely grained, brightly sparkling white marble, which gradually developed a warm patina on its undisturbed surfaces.130 It depicts the sitter’s head, neck, shoulders, truncated upper arms, and thorax. Her upper body is clothed in a [glossary:chiton] and wrapped in a [glossary:himation], the latter’s surface retaining a high shine in places.131 Presumably some parts of the sculpture were painted.132 Below is a blank nameplate that once had volutes at its four corners; the lower two are now missing.133

The back of the torso has been cut away save for a central vertical pillar with squared edges to support the weight of the head. Widest at the top, it tapers along its length and gradually broadens toward the base. Like others of its type, this bust was once raised on a flaring cylindrical foot known as a [glossary:socle]; separately carved, it is now missing.134 In the classification of Roman statuary, this type of sculpture is known as a freestanding portrait bust.135

The front is remarkably well preserved except for the upper edge of the woman’s headdress, the tip of her nose, and the bottom of the nameplate. Additional areas of minimal and moderate loss include chips missing from the hair above her eyes, part of her right eyebrow, and edges of her clothing’s folds. However, the reverse is more extensively disfigured: there is an old break along the lower right edge, and significant damage along the left edge of the subject’s upper back and to the lower portion of the support pillar. This suggests that the bust fell face down, its nose probably damaged in the process, and that it laid largely undisturbed in a protected setting for centuries until an unfortunate encounter with modern tools or equipment marred the surface with fresh gashes and gouges.136

The sculptor portrayed an individual with a solemn expression and aristocratic bearing. She has a smooth complexion, slender face, high cheekbones, and an elegant nose. Nascent folds extend from the outer edges of her hollowed nostrils to the deep corners of her closed mouth.137 A wide, shallow groove runs vertically from the base of her nose to the middle of her upper lip, which projects slightly over the lower, fuller one. Her chin is firm, the line of her jaw is taut, and three very subtle rolls of flesh encircle her slender neck. Although hair covers most of her ears, their visible rims, lobes, and bowls were sculpted with considerable attention to anatomical accuracy.

The subject turns her head slightly left. Incised brows follow the contour of her upper eye sockets, joining at the top of her nose in an asymmetrical cluster.138 The heavy, almost sleepy upper lids of her large, slightly protruding eyes overlap the upper rim of her incised irises, and the lines of their outer edges and deep creases extend well beyond the join of the lower lids. The pupils are round except for a very shallow semicircle of stone suspended from their top edges, perhaps to grant a lifelike glint; the rest of the pupil may have been painted in black.139 Incision separates the eyeballs from the soft tissue of their inner corners. A narrow space between the irises and lower eyelids indicates that the woman’s gaze is directed slightly upward, away from the viewer.

Together with her almond-shaped eyes and individually incised brows, the subject’s heavy upper eyelids are an immediately recognizable feature of many portraits carved during the Antonine Period (A.D. 138–193), and especially of those depicting Faustina the Elder (A.D. c. 97–140), her daughter Faustina the Younger (A.D. 130–175), her nephew and son-in-law Marcus Aurelius (A.D. 121–180), and her grandson Commodus (A.D. 161–192).140 Yet despite a strong resemblance to three generations of the Antonine dynasty (see fig. 8.36, fig. 4.3, fig. 8.37, fig. 4.4), the woman depicted here has not been recognized in other marbles or on coins; although she may have been a member of the extended imperial family, for now she remains nameless.141

Regardless, the date of her portrait can be determined by her coiffure; apparently a keen observer of imperial trends, the subject devoted considerable time and resources to ensuring that her hair was arranged in a fashionable way.142 The turn of her head provides a tantalizing glimpse of an extravagant hairstyle. Framing her face are wavy locks meticulously incised to evoke individual strands. Flowing tresses are combed to the back, where they are woven into a number of long flat braids of varying widths. All of the plaits except for one are wound into a heavy, five-tiered bun that extends from the crown down the back of her head. Just above the hairs finely incised into the nape of the neck rises a long, similarly flat plait, its tip tucked into the bun’s top coil. To either side, shorter locks have slipped loose; carved in a combination of incision and low relief, they curl freely along the woman’s neck.143

The inspiration for this particular hairstyle is the so-called Schlichten Bildnistypus, or “simple portrait type,” of the matronly Faustina the Elder, which is featured on portraits that were probably carved during her short time as empress and [glossary:Augusta] (A.D. 138–140).144 In these portrayals her long locks are brushed back, gathered in two thick bundles of braids, and raised to the top of her head, where they are wound into a bun. When viewed from the front, the formation of braids has a conical shape that has earned it the nickname the “tower coiffure.”145 This simple portrait type is especially well represented by a bust in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (fig. 8.38) and another in the Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto (fig. 8.36).146

Royal trendsetters inspired private women, whose portraits of varying quality and size reveal that they adapted, rather than merely copied, imperial hairstyles to suit their individual circumstances. For example, a variant of the tower coiffure is found on a somewhat later portrait of an anonymous girl in the Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art, Kansas City, which features two long locks of twisted hair encircling the base of her high mound of braids (fig. 4.5).147 Another modified version of the hairstyle appears on a portrait in the Capitoline Museum, again depicting an unidentified woman.148 Her hair is similarly parted in the center and drawn to the back, although it is unclear how her tresses came to be plaited into the braids coiled on the top of her head. However, a single braid here again rises from her neck to the top of the bun in a manner analogous to that seen on the Art Institute’s sculpture.149 In both of these portraits, the front edge of the tower formation does not extend as far forward as it does in the simple portrait type of Faustina the Elder.150

Yet, in terms of its overall form, the Art Institute’s bust has more in common with its Hadrianic antecedents than with other busts of the Antonine period. A pair of portrait busts currently loaned by the Dubroff family to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York—the one depicting Sabina (A.D. 83–136/7), wife of Emperor Hadrian (r. A.D. 117—138), and the other perhaps Sabina’s older sister Matidia the Younger (A.D. 85–after 161)—together illustrate the trend toward representing a more expansive section of the subject’s upper body, which began during Hadrian’s reign in the late first to early second centuries (fig. 8.39, fig. 4.6) and which is subsequently also seen on the Art Institute’s portrait bust.151 Although covered by a himation, the shoulders, truncated upper arms, and lower chest of these busts retain a strong physical presence and together create the impression that the work is actually a section of a draped, full-length statue. Furthermore, by the height of the Antonine period in the mid-second century, the style of female portrait bust took yet another novel turn: the naturalistic drapery characteristic of the late Hadrianic and early Antonine periods was largely replaced by a swirling mantle that at times completely obscures the body beneath it.152 That the Art Institute’s example features the earlier style of drapery suggests that it was made before this new trend was widely accepted.153 Certainly it is the heir of the aesthetic standards of the Hadrianic period.

Although female members of affluent Roman families attired themselves in a variety of fabrics and colors, their position in society governed their dress code, which limited their freedom to explore new styles of clothing in the same way that they did coiffures.154 For this reason, this subject’s dress provides clues about her status. As mentioned earlier, she wears a lightly pleated Greek chiton, or type of [glossary:tunic].155 This is represented as being made from diaphanous cloth—perhaps very fine linen, exorbitantly expensive imported silk, or a luxurious blend of the two; to emphasize its sheerness, the neckline is so thinly carved that light transmits through the marble by her throat.156 Below, delicately curving folds zigzag down the center of her chest, while others emanate from the single fastener of her gap-sleeved garment, which is positioned near the right collarbone.157 Draped around her shoulders is a wide rectangular himation with thick, deeply cut folds suggesting plush fabric, perhaps wool or imported cotton.158 One end of the garment emerges from under her right arm, drops down to expose the gentle swell of her breast, and rises diagonally across her body; there it covers her left shoulder, wraps around her neck, and cascades in thick folds in front of her right shoulder.159 Mantles of the same style appear in a similar way in two late Hadrianic busts: a portrait of Sabina in the Museo Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome, and a portrait (probably depicting Matidia the Younger) at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.160 Such luxurious garments, together with the woman’s elaborate hairstyle, suggest that the sitter was the wife or relative of a member of the ruling elite—whether from the imperial family itself or from an aristocratic clan. She no doubt had at her disposal highly competent cosmeticians, hairdressers, jewelers, and seamstresses to ensure that when she appeared in public she looked the part, exemplifying the virtues of dignity, integrity, and moral restraint expected of upper-class Roman women.

The most fascinating feature of this portrait bust is the striking gem-encrusted diadem encircling the subject’s head. Careful examination suggests that the piece on which it was based comprised two distinct parts that joined behind the ears. The first, seen around the back of her head, is a tubular element scored along its length with parallel lines, perhaps emulating the texture of cord or fabric.161 The second, the forepart of the headband, is a long flat rectangular strap with raised edges suggesting a frame. The upper edge widens ever so slightly above the wearer’s eyes and then curves downward, its contour embellished with a dozen or so round-edged elements, possibly representing pearls or a length of beaded wire.162

Within the frame, the surface of the stone is slightly concave. It is uncertain whether this was an actual feature of the original diadem or the result of the sculptor reducing the height of the marble in order to fashion the low-relief decoration. At the very center is an ellipse with slightly truncated ends and a flat upper surface, which probably depicts a cabochon garnet. It appears to be threaded onto fine-gauge metal wire formed into coiling tendrils that trail along the band’s surface until they terminate at each end in pairs of outwardly turned spirals. The wires curve among thirty rectangles clustered in groups of three alternating with a single one, fifteen to a side, except for two now missing above the subject’s right eye. Their shape suggests that they represent emeralds, which were commonly set in this manner in antiquity (fig. 4.8).163

Depictions of headbands made of precious metal with inlaid or bezel-set jewels and filigree decoration are well attested on sculptures of women from the ancient Mediterranean region.164 However, the paucity of surviving examples with elaborate decoration makes it difficult to draw conclusions about their appearance. For example, did the headband depicted in this portrait feature wires and gems—perhaps box set—attached to a backdrop of sheet gold that was affixed within its frame? Or was it an airy openwork piece, one without a backdrop, showcasing colorful gemstones threaded onto meandering gold filaments that were anchored to the frame at various points?

A rare piece of jewelry fashioned in such an openwork technique has been on loan to the Art Institute of Chicago since 2005 (fig. 4.9).165 Reportedly discovered in Syria, this impressive bracelet has on both sides a border formed from three thick strands of gold. Between them is a serpentine vine of gold wires interspersed with clusters of grapes or berries and box-set leaves of red and green glass (or semiprecious stones) that are affixed to the frame in several places. Although this work is thought to have been made around 200–150 B.C., several centuries before the Art Institute’s portrait bust was carved, it provides an impression of the visual impact of the glittering gold and bejeweled diadem that the sculptor was presumably attempting to represent.166 This marble version may have been painted yellow to imitate gold, with other colors added for the gemstones.167

The role of jewelry as a symbol of rank and status in antiquity is well established,168 and this subject’s diadem provides a crucial clue to her social identity.169 Although portraits of empresses and their female relatives sometimes include various types of headdress,170 private citizens of the Latin West were less likely to wear these than their contemporaries in the prosperous Greek East (including modern Greece, Turkey, Syria, the Levant, and Egypt), where the tradition of civic benefaction conferred special honors for men and women.171 If this lady funded a major municipal project or underwrote costly entertainment for her community, for instance, she might have been rewarded for her largesse with the right to wear such a magnificent diadem while officiating at the dedication of her project or presiding over athletic or other contests.172 Perhaps members of her family also commissioned a master sculptor to create this magnificent portrait for display alongside those of other relatives in their home’s atrium or the family mausoleum.173

In addition to the style of her clothing and the diadem, other reasons to think this portrait comes from the Greek East range from such subjective elements as the appearance of the marble,174 the shape of the bust supports,175 and the articulation of the eyes176 to another that is speculative but nevertheless worth mentioning. When the Art Institute acquired the work in 2002, this author was informed that, according to a former seller, it had belonged to the late Hans von Aulock during the 1950s and 1960s.177 Director of the Istanbul branch of Dresdner Bank when Turkey broke relations with the Third Reich in 1944, Aulock was interned in the small central Anatolian town of Eskişehir. There, with time on his hands, he visited the local bazaars, where he was introduced to—and developed an all-consuming passion for—ancient coins.178 The seller reported that Aulock owned other sculptures. It is interesting, but perhaps coincidental, that one of them, a portrait head of a male, is likewise Antonine in date and wears an honorary wreath.179 If, in fact, Aulock did once own this portrait bust, one wonders if the two works are related.

This fascinating work presents numerous avenues of investigation, a few of which have been briefly explored here.180 In bringing to the public’s attention the foundational research conducted by Klaus Fittschen well over a decade ago, it is this author’s intention to pay homage to that renowned scholar of Roman portraiture and his mastery of the subject, his breadth of knowledge, and his passion for sharing both.181
Karen Manchester

Technical Report

Technical Summary

This portrait bust of a noblewoman exemplifies the height of workmanship in marble statuary of the Antonine period (fig. 4.29). Meticulously carved from a single block of fine-grained, white marble that has been identified as Carrara, the portrait demonstrates virtuoso handling in the minute rendering of each strand of hair, in the high degree of surface polish across the front of the [glossary:chiton], and in the elaborate swirl of drapery in the [glossary:himation]. The level of finish, together with the heavy incrustation of rootlets from burial, makes it almost impossible to discern any traces of the tools used to fabricate the bust. The stone itself is in exceptional condition, exhibiting noticeable losses only on the verso. There are smaller losses on the recto, particularly to the end of the nose, but they do not detract from the portrait’s regal and imposing countenance. Examination of the surface has revealed some traces of what was likely a highly nuanced and painterly style of [glossary:polychromy]. Traces of earth pigments were found in numerous areas on the head and face, but it is in the sheltered groove behind the [glossary:diadem] that the most compelling evidence of decorative embellishment remains. The object was extensively examined at the time of its acquisition, and the present study constitutes both an expansion and a refinement of those efforts. While in the collection of the Art Institute, the object has received one documented treatment to ameliorate some of the heavier, more unsightly burial incrustations and to refine a preexisting [glossary:fill] at the front of the himation.

Structure

Mineral/Chemical Composition

The exterior surface of the marble exhibits a warm, ivory tone overall, but the interior is bright white. Heavy root incrustation gives the stone a reddish-brown aspect. In scattered locations across the surface, small black particles or inclusions are visible.

Primary mineral: calcite (calcium carbonate, CaCO₃)182

Accessory minerals: graphite, C (abundant)

Petrographic Description

A sample roughly 0.8 cm high by 2 cm wide was removed from an area of damage on the verso, at the bottom proper right corner of the pillar, approximately 1.9 cm up from the bottom edge. The sample was then used to perform minero-petrographic analysis. Part of the sample was finely ground, and the resulting powder was analyzed using [glossary:X-ray diffraction] to determine whether dolomite is present. The remaining portion of the sample was mounted onto a glass slide and ground to a thickness of 30 µm for study under a polarizing microscope.183

Grain size: fine (average MGS less than 2 mm)

Maximum grain size (MGS): 0.72 mm

Fabric: quasi-homeoblastic mosaic, slightly [glossary:lineated]

Calcite boundaries: curved

Thin-section [glossary:photomicrograph]: fig. 4.22

Microscopic examination of the prepared thin-section sample revealed little to no decohesion184 and confirmed the presence of a brown patina of [glossary:micritic] composition.185

Provenance

Marble type: Carrara (marmor lunense)186

Quarry site: Carrara region, Apuan Alps, Italy187

The determination of the marble as Carrara was made on the basis of the results of both minero-petrographic analysis and isotopic analysis.188

Isotopic ratio diagram: fig. 4.23

Fabrication

Method

The object was carved from a single block of stone using the various hand tools and implements that would have been customary for the period, such as chisels, drills, rasps, and scrapers.189

Evidence of Construction/Fabrication

Owing to the high degree of surface finish and the heavy incrustation of rootlets, very few traces of toolmarks are visible.

In some places, such as on the top edge of the chiton below the neck and along the folds of the himation surrounding the proper right breast, the surface has been polished to such a degree that the stone appears almost translucent (fig. 4.35). This level of polish would have been realized with a slurry of an abrasive powder such as pumice.190

On the verso, the undercut areas behind the chest and shoulders adjacent to the central pillar are uniformly covered with earth and rootlets. Nevertheless, marks left by a fine claw chisel or a coarse scraper are visible through this coating, particularly on the proper left side (fig. 4.34). The fact that the pillar and adjacent areas were not finished to the same degree as the rest of the sculpture suggests that, although the object was intended to be viewed in the round, this area was not an immediate focal point.191

Many details were painstakingly rendered with the edge of a flat chisel held at an oblique angle to the stone, such as the strands of hair around the face and neck (fig. 8.40 and fig. 4.20), the braided hair on top of the head (fig. 4.28), the diadem, the line between the lips, and the eyebrows and irises (fig. 4.24). The lines emphasizing the outer margins of the nameplate were also made using a flat chisel.

Where the diadem is free of root incrustation, traces of a very fine rasp can be seen on the faces and sides of the gems (fig. 4.32). Traces of a fine rasp are also visible in the crevice behind the diadem where it meets the head on the proper right side. The fact that this crevice was left more unfinished than the surrounding area suggests that the bust was intended to be presented at slightly higher than eye level.192

The presence of small crescents at the tops of the pupils indicates that they were carved with a roundel, rather than having been drilled (see fig. 4.25).

In contrast, a small drill, approximately 2.5 mm in diameter, was used to render the inside corners of the eyes (see fig. 4.27) and to pierce the volutes at the corners of the nameplate. A drill of indeterminate diameter would have been used to create the nostrils and the holes in the ears.

While the root incrustation has obscured the telltale circular depressions at the ends of the lines of carving in the drapery, examination of other Roman sculpture suggests that the primary contours would have been delineated with a drill and fully finished with a roundel or channeling tool.193

The philtrum would have been made with a roundel.

Artist’s/Fabricator’s Marks

No artist’s or fabricator’s marks were observed.

Additional or Applied Materials

Microscopic examination of the stone’s surfaces revealed some traces of polychromy.194

Red ocher was identified in numerous areas: at the proper right corner of the mouth, between the lips on the proper right side, on the third braid from the top on the proper right side of the head, and within the crevice behind the diadem.195 Red ocher was a particularly common pigment in the Roman era, but, since it is an iron-rich earth pigment, its presence could also be attributable to the burial environment. To conclude that the figure was polychromed based on the presence of a single earth pigment, without evidence of a corresponding binding medium, would be unduly optimistic.196

However, the sample taken from the channel behind the diadem also contained yellow ocher and carbon black.197 The presence of multiple pigments, all of which were staples of the Roman palette, lends greater weight to the theory that the bust was once painted. Recent developments in the examination and analysis of ancient sculpture and the results of countless technical studies on the subject have begun to shed light on the tremendous skill and finesse employed by artists in this medium.198 Rather than the flat areas of monochrome paint assumed to have colored Greek sculptures, multilayered applications of paint seem to have been standard practice at least since Hellenistic times and were employed in an endeavor to impart the greatest possible three-dimensionality to the surface.199 The use of multiple pigments, including yellow and red, to enhance the carving of the hair has been observed on several Roman portraits.200 Black has also been found painted directly onto the surface of marbles as an underlayer to enhance the impression of depth and to assist in demarcating areas of transition, such as between the face and the hair.201

The high degree of polish sometimes found on ancient marbles, such as that seen on this bust, has been presented as an argument against polychromy. Why would the sculptor go to such lengths to polish the stone surface, only to have it obscured by paint? Behind this position is a long-standing belief in some scholarly circles, originating in the eighteenth century, that the desired aesthetic in antiquity was a stark white, shiny surface. A further assumption has been that marbles were colored using single layers of paint, yielding a flat, opaque, monochrome finish. Increasing evidence of more complex uses of polychromy now makes clear that sculptors and painters worked in concert to create a sophisticated impression. A delicate application of paint to a highly polished, almost translucent surface would have the capacity to transmit light so as to imbue the portrait with an almost ethereal quality.202

Examination and analysis also revealed traces of modern pigments and binders around the eyes. Along the bottom lid of the proper right eye, close to the tear duct, a blue-green coloration was found, along with a synthetic adhesive. This pigment was identified as Pigment Green 7, and the adhesive was identified as polyvinyl acetate.203 On the proper right eye, within the crease of the upper eyelid and on the outer edge of the fleshy portion of the eye below the brow, a red-orange pigment and trace elements of an organic material, possibly an adhesive, were found.204 This color was identified as Pigment Orange 34.205

No traces of gilding were found.206

Condition Summary

The stone itself is in a remarkable state of preservation, and the object is for the most part free of structural damage.

There are, however, significant losses on the verso: at the top edge of the himation and the central portion of the back edge, as well as on the lower portion of the central pillar. A line of deep gouges indicative of excavation-related impact connects these two areas of damage and suggests that the object was face down during burial (fig. 4.21).207 Additional large [glossary:spalls] and lacunae are visible on the verso along the bottom edge of the undercut area behind the chest on the proper left side.

Damage to the recto is not as severe. Noticeable spalls and losses are present throughout the folds of the himation, particularly in the lower section on the proper left side and along the vertical fold on the proper right side. A rather conspicuous loss to the primary sweep of fabric below the proper right breast has been restored at least twice. The current repair is extremely well camouflaged and is apparent only under ultraviolet radiation (fig. 4.31 and fig. 4.19).208 A crack extending vertically above a loss to the himation adjacent to the proper left collarbone appears stable. The tip of the figure’s nose is missing, although the nostrils remain visible. On the proper right side, the diadem has been marred somewhat by abrasion and chipping, resulting in a loss of textural detail.

The object was broken between the nameplate and the [glossary:socle], resulting in a truncated edge at the bottom around which numerous associated losses are apparent, particularly at the bottom proper right corner.209 The lower volutes of the nameplate were also casualties of this damage. Along the proper left side, the volute appears to have broken off cleanly—the break edge in that area corresponds closely to what would have been the original outline of the volute at that point. The upper volutes of the nameplate remain intact. Damage to the nameplate notwithstanding, it is clear that the bust was carved separately from the socle. The bottom surface of the object is finished rather than broken and displays some evidence of what appears to be [glossary:keying]. This suggests that the bust and the socle were intended to be joined by means of a mortar, although a mechanical fitting such as a pin might also have been employed. The burial deposits present on this bottom surface, identical in character to those on the rest of the marble, confirm that the bust was buried without the socle attached.

Other minor losses to the face include chips on the proper right eyelid and brow and a shallow spall on the skin between the two. Two chips with associated [glossary:exfoliation] and granularity are present on either side of the bottom edges of the hair framing the forehead. Another chip exists at the center of the chiton along the top edge; surprisingly, perhaps owing to the high polish in this area, this flaw is barely noticeable. Elsewhere both deep and shallow scratches are evident; some of these appear recent when examined under ultraviolet radiation, and some have been toned with watercolor.210 The face also exhibits various superficial pits and small holes with associated [glossary:bruising].

The object is heavily encrusted with rootlets and earth—providing desirable evidence of antiquity—predominantly in a uniform, heavy distribution on the verso but also on the himation on the proper left side of the recto. The braids at the back of the head and the strands of hair at the nape of the neck also show heavy coverage. There has been no attempt to reduce the incrustation via mechanical or chemical means. This is fortunate, because such efforts could have obliterated fine details, such as the exquisite carving of the hair. The rootlets have a strong, red-brown coloration, suggesting a very iron-rich burial environment. Indeed, small accretions that are presumed to be iron oxide can be seen on the undercut areas of the verso, particularly on the proper right side (fig. 4.26).

Within deep folds and crevices, especially at the bottom edge of the proper right side and along the folds of the himation against the back of the neck, the rootlets are embedded in a white, chalky matrix (fig. 4.33). Several of these areas were sampled, and analysis revealed the presence of calcite, gypsum, quartz, and silicates.211 There are at least two possible explanations for the presence of this material.

When buried, marble artifacts are subject to slightly acidic groundwater. The moisture surrounds the object and leaches calcium ions into solution. During cyclical changes in the moisture level within the soil, the calcium ions are reprecipitated on the surface of the stone. This redeposited calcium, often described as a micritic calcite layer, has an opaque, floury appearance and is much less dense than the original stone. It is often subtly shaded in accordance with the character and constituents of the soil.212 In this case, the silicates and gypsum would be constituents of the burial environment.

A second possibility, given that the bust appears to have borne some amount of polychromy, is that the painter applied a substratum in selected areas in preparation for applying the colorants.213 The material used for this purpose would presumably have been a lime-based gesso or plaster composed of [glossary:lime] putty and various aggregates, in particular silicates, such as quartz sand, or fine marble dust.214 The painter could also have used a traditional gesso made of calcium carbonate bound with a protein-based adhesive such as a hide glue.215

The sample removed from the channel behind the diadem also contained traces of oxalates. Some researchers attribute the presence of oxalates on ancient sculpture to human intervention, through the application either of polychromy or of coatings intended to protect and preserve the stone.216

Conservation History

After an exhaustive examination upon acquisition in 2002, the bust underwent treatment with the goal of making minor aesthetic improvements, particularly to the incrustations of rootlets in the lower part of the himation.217 The bust was swab cleaned under a stereomicroscope using aqueous methods in order to remove superficial grime; particular attention was paid to the nostrils and ears, which contained a great deal of earth. Excessive and unsightly rootlets and earth were reduced mechanically with the aid of buffered aqueous poultices. At this time, the earlier repair to the front fold of the himation was reversed by mechanical action with the aid of successive solvent poultices. The loss was newly restored using a synthetic acrylic filler that was then retouched with acrylic resin paints.218

Prior to its arrival at the museum, it is likely that the object received some degree of cleaning, if cursory, as evidenced by the slightly dull sheen of the face.219 While it does not, strictly speaking, appear overcleaned, the face retains very little of the compact, somewhat more burnished surface seen on the lower half of the bust.
Rachel C. Sabino, with contributions by Lorenzo Lazzarini

129) This entry draws extensively on unpublished research of Klaus Fittschen, presented in Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” at the Art Institute of Chicago on October 14, 2003. The Art Institute’s Department of Ancient and Byzantine Art houses a typescript copy of Professor Fittschen’s text but not of his images; this entry contains my best recollection of the works of art illustrated during his talk. This entry also includes generalities about stylistic trends but recognizes that there are inevitably exceptions. I am grateful to Rachel Sabino for her thorough and thoughtful inspection of the sculpture; Eric D. Warner and Stephanie Del Carpio for their careful examination of various details of the piece; Jack Perry Brown, Elizabeth Hahn Benge, Mary Greuel, Katharine Raff, Julia Milano, and Dyfri Williams for their research assistance; and Nicola Barham for her review of the entry and many recommendations for its improvement.

138) For the literary evidence about the continuous eyebrow as an attractive feature, see Olson, Dress and the Roman Woman, pp. 62–63. Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” pp. 4–5, notes that a similar singular eyebrow appears on an early Antonine portrait in the Musée du Louvre, Paris, presumably a portrait of an unidentified woman (inv. no. Ma 4582) in Kersauson, Catalogue des portraits romains, p. 212, cat. 91. Additionally the same continuous brow occurs on the earlier so-called Fonseca Bust in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (inv. no. 434), in Fittschen and Zanker, Katalog der römischen Porträts, vol. 3, pp. 53–54, cat. 69, pls. 86–87; and on another work in the Capitoline Museum, a later portrait of a man (“Rhoimetalkes”; inv. no. 419), in Kaltsas, Sculpture in the National Archaeological Museum, Athens, pp. 362–63, cat. 775.

139) “Many statues are distinguished by exquisitely refined techniques, including deeply drilled hairstyles, engraved irises and drilled pupils, and highly polished flesh areas, the overall aim of which was to create heightened realistic and dramatic effects akin to contemporary modes of self-stylization. Details previously rendered in paint—such as eyes, eyebrows, hair, and beards—were now increasingly rendered in the marble itself, suggesting the increased intimacy between painting and sculptural definition”; Abbe, “Polychromy,” p. 177. While no evidence of black pigment was found on the pupils (see Additional or Applied Materials in the technical report), it is possible that the already expressive carving was further embellished in this manner. See also Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” p. 9.

140) This feature appears in portraits of members of the Imperial house throughout the Antonine dynasty. For an early Antonine portrait of Faustina the Elder with this feature, see Rome, Capitoline Museum (inv. no. 447); Fittschen and Zanker, Katalog der römischen Porträts, vol. 3, pp. 13–15, cat. 13, pls. 15–16. See also an example (c. A.D. 140) in the Royal Ontario Museum, Toronto (inv. no. 933.27.2). A portrait of Faustina the Younger (A.D. 161–c. 170) is in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (inv. no. 250); see Fittschen and Zanker, Katalog der römischen Porträts, vol. 3, pp. 21–22, cat. 20, pls. 27–29; and Fittschen, Die Bildnistypen der Faustina minor. On the dates of her life, see Levick, Faustina I and II, pp. 3, 13, 169–72. A portrait of Marcus Aurelius (c. A.D. 140) is in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (inv. no. 450); see Fittschen and Zanker, Katalog der römischen Porträts, vol. 1, pp. 67–68, cat. 61, pls. 69, 70, 72. Another example (c. A.D. 170–180) is on loan to the Art Institute of Chicago (2.2013); see Christie’s, Antiquities, Dec. 5, 2012, pp. 124–25, lot 21. A portrait of Commodus (c. A.D. 175–177) is in the Capitoline Museum, Rome (inv. no. 454); see Fittschen and Zanker, Katalog der römischen Porträts, vol. 1, pp. 81–83, cat. 74, pls. 87–88, suppl. 96. Another (A.D. 180–185) is in the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (92.SA.48).

151) For the first example (A.D. 122–128) in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (L.1995.6.1), see Fittschen, “Courtly Portraits,” pp. 45–46, fig. 5; for the second (A.D. 122–128; L.1995.6.2), see Fittschen, “Courtly Portraits,” pp. 45–46, fig. 6. See also Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” p. 4, which mentions a portrait bust of Sabina in the Museo Nazionale Romano, presumably the A.D. 134–136 example in the Museo Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome (inv. no. 1722), published in Giannetti, “Busto di Sabina,” 2013, p. 185, cat. 123. Elsewhere, Fittschen refers to what is presumably the second portrait bust (L.1995.6.2) in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Fittschen, “Courtly Portraits,” pp. 45–46, fig. 6, which, in “Unidentified but Important,” he mistakenly reports was in the collection of Shelby White and Leon Levy; “Unidentified but Important,” p. 4.

160) Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” p. 4, cites a portrait of Sabina, presumably the bust in the Museo Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, Rome (inv. no. 1722), in Giannetti, “Busto di Sabina”, 2013, p. 185, cat. 123; and the portrait bust (A.D. 122–128), probably depicting Matidia the Younger, in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York (L.1995.6.2); see Fittschen, “Courtly Portraits,” pp. 45–46, fig. 6. Although they exhibit noteworthy stylistic differences, these three works share the general arrangement of the tunics and the disposition of the mantles, which are drawn diagonally from the area of the subjects’ proper right breasts, across their torsos to their opposite shoulders. Other examples include a fragmentary portrait bust of a woman (about A.D. 130) in the J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles (inv. no. 70.AA.100) and the same museum’s Antonine portrait bust of a woman (c. A.D. 150–160; inv. no. 83.AA.44).

163) For emeralds and the popularity of elongated and lenticular stones, see Croom, Roman Clothing, p. 113. For examples of emeralds set in this manner, see a necklace with pendant in the collection of the Art Institute of Chicago (cat. 164) and others from both the Roman and Byzantine periods published in Spier, “Treasures of the Ferrell Collection,” cats. 24, 61, 152, 164, 165, 167, 175. I thank Stephanie Del Carpio for drawing this ornament.A surviving gold diadem from the Helen Stathatos collection, now in the National Archaeological Museum of Athens (last quarter of the 4th century B.C.; inv. no. ΣΤ339), has openwork tendril decoration very similar to that seen on the diadem portrayed on Portrait Bust of a Woman; for this diadem, see Despini, Greek Art, pp. 70–71, 214–15, cats. 28–29, figs. 28–29. Although this object was made some five hundred years before the Art Institute’s portrait bust was carved, it demonstrates that this kind of openwork was indeed used on gold diadems in antiquity. For other Hellenistic gold diadems that employ spiraling tendrils—though not so close in design to the example on Portrait Bust of a Woman—see further National Archaeological Museum of Athens, inv. no. 5410 (c. 320 B.C.), in Despini, Greek Art, pp. 68–69, 214, cats. 26–27, figs. 26–27; Archaeological Museum of Thessaloniki, inv. no. Βε75 (third quarter of the 4th century B.C.), in ibid., pp. 71–73, cats. 30–31, figs. 30–31; Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, inv. no. 98.798 (late 3rd century B.C.), in Hoffmann and Davidson, Greek Gold, pp. 60–62, cat. 3, fig. 3a–b.

175) Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” p. 8–9, notes regional differences in the shape of bust supports; those in the Latin West are equally broad at the top and bottom. Those in the Greek East do not flare as broadly at the bottom. This portrait bust falls in the latter category, and Fittschen cited as comparisons two works. The first is an otherwise unidentified bust found on Crete, now in Copenhagen, from around A.D. 160; this is presumably Ny Carlsberg Glypotek (inv. no. I.N. 791), in Johansen, Roman Portraits, vol. 2, p. 258, cat. 107. The second is an otherwise unidentified portrait bust of a man in the collection of Shelby White and Leon Levy whose find spot is unknown; this is perhaps the work in Anderson, “A Bust of a Man,” although there is no image of the reverse.

176) Fittschen, “Unidentified but Important,” p. 9, notes that the pupils on contemporary portraits from the Latin West are drilled in the shape of a bean or a crescent, and cited as an example a portrait head of Faustina the Elder from Ostia, presumably Museo Ostiense (inv. nos. 54 or 28) in Calza, Ritratti greci e romani, pp. 89–91, cats. 143–44, pl. 35. He also observed that the pupils on the Art Institute’s bust are more characteristic of examples fashioned in the Greek East, having a “nearly circular deep hole,” citing as an example the portrait of Avidia Plautia (c. 136–138) in the Yale University Art Museum (inv. no. 1992.2.1), in Kleiner and Matheson, I Claudia, pp. 74–75, cat. 30. Very close inspection reveals, as described above, that a shallow crescent is present on the upper edge of her pupil. Compare Kleiner, Roman Sculpture, p. 278, fig. 245.

183) The thin-section petrography and [glossary:X-ray diffraction] were performed at the Laboratorio di Analisi dei Materiali Antichi (LAMA), Università IUAV, Venice, by Lorenzo Lazzarini, Director, LAMA. The purpose of the minero-petrographic analysis was to determine the following parameters: (1) the type of fabric (either homeoblastic or heteroblastic, the former consisting of grains of roughly equal dimensions and the latter consisting of grains of variable dimensions), which is directly related to the type of [glossary:metamorphism] (equilibrium, nonequilibrium, retrograde, or polymetamorphism); (2) the boundary shapes of the calcite/dolomite grains, which are also correlated with the types of metamorphic events that generated the marble; (3) the maximum grain size, a parameter that has diagnostic significance because it is linked to the grade of metamorphism achieved by the marble; and (4) the qualitative and semiqualitative presence of accessory minerals, which are sometimes of diagnostic value. In the formulation of the petrographic description, previous specific studies of the most important “major” ancient marbles (Gorgoni et al., “Reference Database”; Lazzarini, Moschini, and Stievano, “Contribution to the Identification”), other [glossary:archaeometric] studies of “minor” marbles, and seminal treatises on [glossary:petrotectonics] (e.g., Spry, Metamorphic Textures) were taken into consideration. Lazzarini, “Report on the Results,” pp. 1–2. This essay is greatly indebted not only to Lorenzo Lazzarini’s analysis, which facilitated a better understanding of this object in the newly cast light of its secure attribution with respect to marble type and provenance, but also to his graciousness and generosity in sharing the vast knowledge and wisdom acquired over the course of his decades-long career.

185) For further information on the specific role of micrite in the classification of carbonate rocks, see Folk, “Practical Petrographic Classification of Limestones”; and Dunham, “Classification of Carbonate Rocks.” The Folk and Dunham classifications are the two most widely used descriptors for limestones; in both, the subdivisions are determined by the matrix composition, e.g., micrite. Patina is a vague and ambiguous term, and a number of scholars have debated the appropriateness of its use with stone. Indeed, a variety of other terms refer to the numerous types of films seen on the surfaces of ancient stone: scialbatura, epidermis or marble skin, hardening paste, rock or desert varnish, mineral deposit, and weathering crust, to name but a few. Many ancient marble sculptures may have either lost their patinas, perhaps in the course of restoration, or received artificial patinas, applied in an effort to mimic an ancient surface. Of the several types of naturally occurring patinas, as opposed to man-made ones, two predominate: those composed of calcium carbonate crusts and those composed of oxalates. For a concise review of both types, see Craddock, Scientific Investigation of Copies, pp. 254–57. For further information, see cat. 1, Statue of a Young Boy, para. 75, note 106.

187) Marmor lunense, so called by the Romans because the quarries were under the control of the town of Luna, near Carrara, was quarried to a limited extent by the Etruscans from the sixth to the second centuries B.C. Later, from the middle of the first century B.C. to the end of the second century A.D, it was quarried in larger amounts. At the end of this period, the canal harbor on the Magra River silted up, making it difficult and expensive to transport the marble from the quarries to Rome and thus leading to a precipitous drop in its use in the capital. The main quarries were situated along the three valleys of Torano, Miseglia, and Colonnata in the province of Carrara. The best marble—pure white with a fine, homogeneous grain size, referred to as statuario—was quarried in the Torano valley. Given the large supply, marmor lunense would have been quite inexpensive. Lazzarini, “Report on the Results,” p. 3. See also Bruno et al., “Provenance and Distribution of White Marbles”; Dolci, Carrara; Gnoli, Marmora romana; Lazzarini, “Considerazioni sul prezzo dei marmi”; and Paribeni, “Problemi del marmo.”

188) The stable isotope ratio analysis was done at the Isotopen Labo, Friedrich-Alexander-Universität Erlangen-Nürnberg (FAU), Germany, and interpreted by Lorenzo Lazzarini, Director, LAMA. Isotopic characterization has proved to be very useful in the identification of ancient marble. Its use is becoming more and more widespread owing to its outstanding sensitivity, the small quantity of material necessary for the analysis, and the availability of a rapidly growing isotopic database, often associated with other laboratory methodologies (Attanasio, Brilli, and Ogle, Isotopic Signature of Classical Marbles; Barbin et al., “Cathodoluminescence”; Gorgoni et al., “Reference Database”; Lazzarini, “Archaeometric Aspects of White and Coloured Marbles”), that permits increasingly trustworthy comparisons, especially if the isotopic data are evaluated together with the minero-petrographic results from the same samples, as in the present study. The present study used reference data from petrographic databases as well as data compiled from thin-section samples taken in fifty ancient Mediterranean marble quarries. Lazzarini, “Report on the Results,” pp. 2, 3.

Isotopic analysis was carried out on the carbon dioxide derived from a small portion (20–30 mg) of the powdered sample obtained through dissolution by phosphoric acid at 25°C in a vacuum line, according to the procedure suggested by McCrea, “Isotopic Chemistry of Carbonates,” and Craig, “Isotopic Standards for Carbon and Oxygen.” The resulting carbon dioxide was then analyzed using mass spectrometry. The mass spectrometer is fitted with a triple collector and permits the measurement of both isotopic ratios (¹³C/¹²C and ¹⁸O/¹⁶O) at the same time. The analytical results are conventionally expressed in δ units, in parts per thousand, in which δ = (R_sample/R_std – 1) × 1000, and R_sample and R_std represent the isotopic ratios of oxygen and carbon in the sample and in the reference standard, respectively. The standard adopted is PDB, or δ¹³C, for both oxygen and carbon. The PDB standard for isotope ratio measurements in carbonates is the rostrum of the Belemnitella americana, a Cretaceous marine fossil from the Pee Dee Formation in South Carolina. Lazzarini, “Report on the Results,” p. 2.

190) “Emery, corundum, volcanic scoria, and quartz sand are variously attested.” Claridge, “Marble Carving Techniques,” p. 108. Anecdotal evidence suggests that the Romans may also have used “rosin or colophon wax, the wax athletes use on their hands. They rubbed it on a very soft, thin piece of lead which had been wrapped around a piece of cloth, giving rosin-coated lead with a cushion inside.” A later account that may have roots in antiquity comes from the sculptor Carradori, who, “in his 1802 instruction manual for sculpture, gives a formula for polishing: break up the bones of a goat, cook them to a charcoal and put the charcoal in a mortar and pestle. Grind the mixture to a fine powder, mix it with water and then rub the stone to get a gloss polish.” Modern sculptors apply oxalic acid in powder form to a piece of burlap dampened with water and rub the sculpture to a high final polish. Rockwell, Rosenfeld, and Hanley, “Compleat Marble Sleuth,” p. 31. Ancient sculptors might also have used acids as a finishing technique.

193) The so-called honeycombing method, in which a groove was cut by boring a row of holes at short intervals and then clearing the remaining stone out with a chisel or channeling tool, is the most laborious means by which to create grooves in marble. Sculptors may have chosen this method because it was deemed safer and offered more control. In another method, the running drill, the drill was rotated at a sharp angle to the stone, cutting a groove as it was moved along. The same tool was used for both; only the method of application differed. Great controversy surrounds the running drill with respect to the date of its introduction and the extent of its use. Olga Palagia discussed the physical evidence of the drill marks left in the Parthenon pediments (where the heart of the controversy lies) and found sufficient proof that their sculptors employed both methods. Palagia, “Marble Carving Techniques,” pp. 253–60. Amanda Claridge, on the contrary, has stated that the running drill is “a phantom, based on a misunderstanding of the German ‘laufende Bohrer.’” Claridge, “Marble Carving Techniques,” p. 108.

196) “From the ancient sources two binding media appear to have been most common: tempera (using a water-soluble binding agent such as egg) and encaustic (defined by its wax medium and the enkaustikos [“burning in” process] by which colors were bonded to the substrate). The numerous and often contradictory descriptions of these painting methods attest to the flexibility of ancient practice. Artists were, of course, well aware that the binding medium used with a pigment affects the color, translucency, and optical qualities of a painted surface, and presumably employed multiple methods to obtain differing results on a single work.” Abbe, “Polychromy,” p. 178. Organic materials are notoriously difficult to identify analytically because of their susceptibility to degradation, in addition to the fact that they were generally present only in trace amounts. Despite these difficulties, technical study of a similarly colored bust in the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek in Copenhagen revealed the use of egg tempera as a binder; see Stege, Fiedler, and Baumer, “Pigment and Binding Medium Analysis.”

208) Ultraviolet-induced visible light fluorescence was among the first technical examination methods to be employed in the service of investigating art objects, and, although there is some subjectivity in the interpretation of the fluorescence, it remains the technique most universally chosen as a first step in examining works of art. UV radiation causes unique patterns of fluorescence in a wide array of materials, and the color and intensity of the fluorescence help to differentiate between original materials and alterations, be they wholesale additions or surface modifications. Very broadly speaking, with respect to marble, a newly broken or modern surface will appear bright purple when exposed to UV radiation, whereas an intact, ancient surface will appear white, yellow, or amber. An older but not necessarily ancient surface will appear more blue. See Rorimer, Ultra-Violet Rays, pp. 17–23. This phenomenon can be exploited to reveal parts of a sculpture that may have been recently cleaned or treated; may have been recut or replaced; or may retain pigments, coatings, or colorants. See Grossman and Maish, “Authenticity of a Classical Attic Funerary Monument.” For further information on the refinement of UV/visible fluorescence imaging since 1931 and its reliability in the examination of marble artifacts, see Polikreti, “Detection of Ancient Marble Forgery”; Polikreti and Christofides, “Composition Profiles and Time Evolution”; Polikreti and Christofides, “Laser-Induced Micro-photoluminescence”; and Polikreti and Christofides, “Role of Humic Substances.”

216) Oxalate films are formed by the chemical reaction of various substances to produce weddellite (CaC₂O₄·2H₂O) and whewellite (CaC₂O₄·H₂O), both of which are transparent, crystalline materials. Oxalate films on stone, however, appear opaque and compact and display a broad range of colors from ivory to black. The color of oxalate films is a consequence of the entrapment of foreign material such as soot and microorganisms. Two general arguments are put forth for the presence of oxalates on stone. The first assumes a natural biological origin (biogenic), in which oxalic acid, present as a metabolic by-product of living organisms such as lichens, fungi, or algae, is responsible for oxalate formation. The second posits human intervention (anthropogenic); in this case, it is asserted that oxalates form as a result of coatings deliberately applied for protection or preservation or as a result of environmental pollution. Increasingly, however, scholars support a combined origin for these films. Oxalates are the subject of extensive debate. Indeed, two international symposia on the subject were held in 1989 and 1996. See Alessandri, Oxalate Films; and Realini and Toniolo, Oxalate Films. A concise discussion and fully comprehensive bibliography on oxalate films compiled by Sari Uricheck appears in Castelnuovo-Tedesco and Soultanian, Italian Medieval Sculpture, p. 31, n. 31.

217) During this examination, a 250 g sample was drilled from the bottom of the base and sent to Norman Herz, at that time professor emeritus and honorary director of the Center for Archaeological Sciences, University of Georgia, for isotopic study. As a result of that analysis, the marble was determined to be Proconnesian, from the ancient quarries at Proconnesus in modern-day Marmara, Turkey. See Hall, “Examination for Purchase,” Mar. 4, 2002. On the basis of more recent analysis, the marble has been identified as Carrara; see Structure. This discrepancy in provenance is attributable to the fact that only one analytical technique was performed in 2002. At minimum two analytical techniques—some combination of isotope ratio analysis, petrographic thin-section analysis, neutron activation analysis, cathodoluminescence, and electron paramagnetic resonance spectroscopy—is required to make an adequate determination. In some instances, a third method may be required for correct attribution. See Lazzarini, “Archaeometric Aspects of White and Coloured Marbles.”

Roman Art at the Art Institute of Chicago