Consular Diptychs and Rhetoric in Constantinople

Consular Diptychs, Dipt ychs, Rhetoric and the Languages of Art in Sixth-Century Constantinople Antony Eastmond

Detail from Consular Diptych of Orestes, 530 (plate 7).

DOI: 10.1111/j.1467-8365.2010.00780.x Art Histor y | ISSN 0141-6790 0141-6790 33 | 5 | December 2010 | pages 742-765

© Association of Art Historians 2010

On 1 January 506, Flavius Areobindus Dagalaifus Areobindus Areobindus was installed as consul of the city of Constantinople. His His appointment maintained an annual tradition that could be traced trac ed back one thousand thou sand years. His main, indeed his only, only, duty as consul was to put on seven days of entertainmen enter tainmentt for the inhabitants inhabi tants of the th e city. city.These spectacles were codified three decades later in the Codex Justinianus: a procession on the inauguration of the consul, a day of horse racing, a day of theatrical entertainments, a day of animal combats, comba ts, a second theatric the atrical al day, day, a second day of racing, and finally a solemn ceremony to end the week.1 The post was entirely concerned with display and spectacle: on the one hand, the wonders and excitements of the games and a nd entertainment offered to the people, and on the other, the ostentatious display of the consul through his wealth and largesse. Although the post was a temporary one, it has left a permanent per manent visual legacy: the magnificent ivory diptychs that were commissioned by the consuls to celebrate or commemorate their appointment. For For Areobindus, ten leaves from seven different diptychs survive, the largest corpus cor pus linked to a single consul in late antiquity. antiquity.2 Each leaf measures between 340 and 388 mm in height and between 110 and 137 mm in width (and all are between 8 and 10.5 mm thick). When placed together, they they combine to reveal the expense of the consulship. They are substantial pieces of ivory and represent represe nt a heavy investment investment in this thi s rare and valuable commodity commod ity,, especially when one takes into account the high probability that the surviving diptychs probably represent only a small fraction of the number that were originally commissioned.3 The relationship between the diptychs and consular display is central to their understanding: the visual languages by which consuls in sixth-century Constantinople paraded their virtues, and the nature of the audiences that they addressed. Areobindus’ ivories ivories fall into three clear categories of decoration, first classified by Richard Delbrueck Delbruec k in 1929, and this model was followed by all his successors as consul in the sixth six th century centur y.4 One group, the so-called ‘full figure’ type (comprising seventeen of the forty-one surviving leav leaves es made between 506 and 541), has been plate 1). used by scholars to enrich our understanding of the consul and his position ( plate These densely carved panels epitomize both the spectacle of the consulship and the excitement of the games associated with them.Their power and their attraction lie in the disparity between the solemnity and rigidity of the consul and the vivacity of the entertainment that he sponsored.The consul dominates the panels in all his pomp, in an uncompromising and unblinking confrontation with the viewer. His robes, throne, sceptre and mappa all build his status, s tatus, and he is surrounded by further symbols s ymbols 743

Consular Diptychs, Rhetoric and the Languages of Art in Sixth-Century Constantinople

1 Consular diptych of Areobindus (‘full-figure’ type), 506. Ivory, each leaf lea f 360 × 130 mm. Zürich: Schweizerisch Schweizerisches es Landesmuseum (inv. A-3564). Photo: © Zürich, Schweizerisches Landesmuseum.

of authority and wealth. This picture of taxis (order), dignity and status contrasts markedly with the th e more lively, lively, almost anarchic anarc hic world of the games ga mes beneath. beneat h. The consul is shown unaffected by the danger of animal hunts and acrobatics, the slapstick of theatrical mime (note the man with a crab on the end of his nose on Anastasius’s Anastasius’s 5 diptych of 517; see plate 2), or the spectacle of processions. This is the essence of what has been called ‘the consular image’, and its repetition by successive consuls in the sixth century presents it as an almost corporate cor porate identity. identity.6 These diptychs reveal both the costs and the rewards of euergetism , the late antique expectation that the rich should use their wealth to benefit the community in which they lived.7 The apparently comprehensive comprehensive vision of the consul represented by these diptychs has led to a greatly reduced interest in the remaining two groups (numbering © Association of Art Historians 2010

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2 Leaf from consular diptych of Anastasius, Anastas ius, 517. Ivory, 361 × 127 mm. London: Victoria & Albert Museum (368-1871). Photo: © Victoria and Albert Museum, London.


twenty-four surviving twenty-four sur viving consular leav leaves). es).They are catalogued and exhibited, but rarely 8 discussed. The imagery they contain appears meagre and abbreviated abbreviated in comparison with the full-figure leaves. Either they show show a medallion containing just the bust of the consul, surrounded by a simple foliate design ( plate 3), or they th ey have even simpler simpl er,, plate 4).Yet, the consuls more abstract, non-figural designs ( plate cons uls clearly clea rly considered consid ered these thes e as important as the full-figure panels – they required as much ivory to make, and survive in larger numbers.Why the consuls chose c hose to use three such different formats to display their authority has never been investigated.This paper considers all the diptychs together, and does so through a consideration of a central aspect of the diptychs: the ways in which they communicated with their audience. Consular diptychs were made to be sent out as gifts. Q. Q. Aurelius Symmmachus, admittedly writing a century before Areobindus became consul but referring to the same posts and traditions, recorded that he included ivory diptychs and other precious objects with his letters: ‘It is a solemn and delightful obligation for quaestors candidati to present the customary gifts to people of consequence and close friends, in which number you are naturally included. So I offer you an ivory diptych and a small silver bowl weighing two t wo pounds in my son’s name, and I beg you to accept this token of respect with pleasure.’ 9 This allows us to examine all the diptychs as a corpus, and to consider them as part par t of epistolary communication, to be sent out and received.This connection between diptychs and letters allows us to set the ivories in the same framework of rhetorical and epistolary theory. theory. Letters were both written and a nd read following follo wing well-established rules and models, in whic h correspondents were trained, and for which whic h evidence survives in epistolary manuals and the exercises of the progymnasmata.These provided exemplars for the contents and style in which to write letters, and it is clear that letter writers were taught to tailor both of these to suit their audience. I argue that the same is true of consular diptychs, and that we can use the decoration of consular diptychs to understand as much about the audience of the diptychs as about the consul himself. Discussion Discus sion of audience audie nce is, however however,, tempered by one key problem: the diptychs give no direct evidence about the identity of their audience. Beyond Symmachus’ flattering flattering description of his correspondents, and a few non-specific references on the diptychs themselves (which will be discussed below), we cannot put names to the lucky recipients of these expensive objects with any precision. It is possible that this information was once contained in the interiors of the diptychs, as all were planed smooth with a raised lip around the edge, which would allow them to have been filled with a thin layer of wax into which a message could have been incised.10 In no surviving survi ving example, exa mple, however however,, does any wax remain. remai n. 745


Everything depends on the interpretation of the exterior carving and the variation between the different different types of diptych.11 When the three distinct groups of diptych were first classified by Richard Delbrueck in 1929, he also considered the audience of the diptychs, and linked each grouping to a social rank.12 He concluded concluded that that the full-figure diptychs were destined for the most important recipients (‘vielleicht für Viri consulares, hohe Beamte’); the medallion diptychs for Senators, and the simple diptychs for private gifts.13 Delbrueck’s assumption that the most iconographically replete leaves leav es were destined for the most senior officials has underlain, even even if it has not justified, the almost exclusive concentration by scholars on them.14 The correlation between density of decoration and the social elevationn of the recipient has come to be seen as elevatio a s an 15 almost natural, self-evident link. These assumptions are, however however,, neither natural nat ural nor self-evide self-evident. nt. This paper seeks to replace that hierarchical model of audience with one linked to epistolary theory and based on networks of communication. Given that we cannot know the audience, the discussion must necessarily be indirect, and must focus instead on the nature of the relationship between the consul and the recipient of the diptychs. The diptychs were just one class of gifts that served to create, build and maintain networks of friendship and influence among equals in late antiquity. antiquity. This is a study of modes of communication, networks networks and exchange; and of the uses of rhetoric and the different languages languages of art in its service. The focus on the audience for consular diptychs raises a second, apparently apparently paradoxical, issue which is discussed in the final section of this paper. paper. This considers the diametrically opposite issue to the problem of the variety of diptychs, that of monotony.. For monotony For a second way of looking lookin g at diptychs diptyc hs is diachronically diachronically.. When successive consuls’ diptychs are lined up alongside each other what becomes most apparent is, within the different types, their repetitive consistency consis tency,, in terms of o f iconography iconog raphy,, style and presentation.The thirty-two thir ty-two surviving leav leaves es produced in sixth-century Constantinople by Areobindus’ successors as consul make no significant change to the formats that Areobindus used (and which he probably inherited from the consuls before him). If, as is generally supposed, the consulship was about individual promotion, then why were consuls’ diptychs so conformist and lacking in individualism?


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3 Consular diptych of Areobindus (‘medallion’ type), 506. Ivory, each leaf 340 × 110 mm. Paris: Paris: Musée du Louvre Lou vre (OA9525). Photo: © 2006 Musée du Louvre et AFA/Anne Chauvet. 4 Consular diptych of Areobindus (‘simple’ type), 506. Ivory, each leaf 340 × 125 mm. Lucca: Opera del Duomo. Du omo. Photo: © Lucca, Opera del Duomo. 5 Missorium of Theodosios I, 380. Silver,740 mm (diamet (diameter), er), 15.35 kg (weight). (weigh t). Madrid: Real Academia de la Histori a. Photo: © Reproducción, Real Academia de la Historia.


Category and Hierarchy

In order for my argument to proceed, it is first necessary to establish the equal status of the three groups of diptychs. This depends on a consideration of scale, of quantity and of quality qua lity.. The argument underlying a hierarchy of ivories and their association with different ranks depends on an analogy with other examples of gift-giving by officials in late antiquity antiquity..The prime model here is the distribution distri bution of sparsio silver by emperors. The surviving largitio dishes of the fourth century ce ntury,, in particular, show a clear gradation gra dation and hierarchy of gifts. This is based on the weight of silver used, and hence its monetary value. At the head of this ranking stands the missorium of Theodosios I, plate 5). It is both the largest and produced for the decennalia of the emperor in 388 ( plate the best decorated of all such dishes. It shows the emperor between his co-emperors Valentinian II and Arcadius handing a diptych of office to an official, and is recorded in an inscription inscr iption on the reverse as weighing 50 roman lb.16 This dwarfs all other other surviving dishes, including private commissions such suc h as the Achilles plate in the Sevso Treasure which has an a n almost identical diameter (720 mm as opposed to 740 mm), but weighs weighs a mere 36 roman lb (11.78 kg).17 The missorium of Theodosios Theodosios represents a gift at the very top of the social scale: the donor was the emperor, and the inclusion of the recipient on the image (even if only generically depicted, with no individual identification) denotes his elevated status.18 Beneath this are a larger larger number of more humble largitio dishes, which all conform to carefully gradated sizes.The surviving largitio dishes produced in the first half of the fourth century for Licinius, Crispus and Constantine II, and Constantius II all fit into approxima approximate te groups

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6 Consular diptych of Clementinus, Clementin us, 513. Ivory; each leaf 384 × 123 12 3 mm. Liverpool: World W orld Museum. Museum. Photo: © National Museums Liverpool.


weighing 1, 1.5, 2, 3 and 4 roman rom an lb.19 It is clear from this that a hierarchy existed. The dishes were produced at set weights which could c ould be awarded either individually by size or in groups g roups to make up a higher value gift, and so allowed allowed rank and reward to 20 be closely linked. Jocelyn Toynbee noted a similar correlation cor relation between size, siz e, weight 21 and rank among late antique medallions. However Howe ver,, this ranking ranki ng cannot cann ot work for ivory ivor y. First, unlike the silver s ilver largitio dishes, what is most striking about consular c onsular diptychs is their overall similarity. similarity. There is a consistency of scale that runs across all the surviving sixth-century s ixth-century leaves: leaves: the height of those that have not subsequently been cut down ranges between 335 and 410 mm (a variation of less than 15% on either side of the av average erage height of 360 mm). Although John Joh n Lydus in his On the Magistracies of the Roman State – an apparently bizarre mix of autobiography, autobiography, scatology and bureaucratic history written in c. 552 – celebrated celebrated the endless nuances of rank and bureaucratic distinctions of of hierarchy both within and beyon beyondd government administration, it seems unlikely that they were were so nuanced as to take the missing 40 mm of ivory into account.22 It is difficult to imagine men comparing the length of their ivories so carefully. carefully. It is surely more likely that the differences were due to the availability of tusks in any one year. year. Two diptychs survive s urvive from fro m the consulship consul ship of Clementinus Clem entinus in 513, 513 , and they are noticeably notic eably different in size: si ze: the one now in the World Museum, Museu m, Liverpool, measures at least 384 × 123 mm (it is partially obscured by a later marquetry frame) ( plate 6),23 but that in the Victoria and Albert Museum (subsequently re-used by Orestes, consul of Rome in 530, who re-cut the faces and inscriptions) is significantly smaller at 344 × 120 mm ( plate 7).24 Despite this difference in scale, they portray portray almost identical iconography, suggesting that they were conceived as equivalents. The divergence in height can only be explained in terms of the variation in the tusks available to Clementinus. Consular diptychs required the largest tusks available av ailable in order to be able to produce the length and width of panel that was desired, and elephant biology placed limits on this. The forty-one Constantinopolitan leaves that have not been cut down all conform confor m to the same approximate dimensions and ratio (2.8:1) which corresponds to the largest plaques that can be carved from a good size tusk given its curvature. The leaves of the Apion diptych in Oviedo, which measure 410 × 150 mm, have have the largest surface area of any surviving diptych (622.5 cm2 ) ( plate 8), but this was only achieved by tapering the inner edges of each leaf where they were limited by the curve of the elephant tusk.25 More to the point, the Apion diptych is of the ‘medallion’ ‘medallion’ type, and so should, according to Delbrueck’s classification, be for a middle-ranking recipient. From this it is clear that the analogy between gifts in ivory and in precious metals is fraught with problems. Rather than look for hierarchical divisions, it seems more realistic to accept that, in every case, consular diptychs represent the largest and most impressive gifts possible given the limitations of the material. There is no evidence of half-size diptychs diptyc hs in line with the gradations of medallions and silver plates. 748

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7 Consular Diptych of Orestes, 530 (recarved from that of Clementinus, Clementin us, 513). Ivory,each leaf 344 × 120 12 0 mm. London: Victoria and Albert Museum (139-1866). Photo: Photo : ©Victoria and Albert Museum, London.

The only other means of distinguishing between the diptychs is in terms of the carving, whether quantity or quality. quality. Here the hierarchy seems to be more firmly based, but it is too simplistic to assume that, simply because one diptych is is more replete with carving than another, it should be given a higher ranking. Again, comparisons with largitio silver are valuable. Three largitio dishes of Constantius II have been excavated from Kertch Kertch in the Crimea, each approximately the same weight (2 roman lb). They were all probably produced to celebrate his vicennalia in 343, but are decorated very differently: two two have a profile bust of the emperor set inside an arcade, the third has a fuller, fuller, more narrative image showing the emperor on horseback, between a winged nike and a soldier ( plates 9 and 10).26 This last dish has long been regarded as the most important because of its iconographic wealth. However, although the composition on the dish is bolder and more complex than that of the other two dishes, and so presumabl presumablyy took longer to execute, the equal weight of the © Association of Art Historians 2010

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8 Consular diptych of Apion, 539. Ivory, each leaf lea f 410 × 150 mm. Oviedo: Cathedral Cathedra l Treasury. Photo: © Funda ció Institut Amatller d’Art Hispànic/Arxiu Mas.


dishes militates against linking that with value. It places a value on narrative that has no validation in late antique sources. Surely, Surely, the recipient would primarily prim arily measure meas ure his worth by the quantity of silver he was given, rather than by the iconographic complexity of its decoration. The only evidence that links the form or quantity of decoration with rank comes in the images that accompany the Notitia Dignitatum, a list of dignitaries and their areas of responsibility across the Roman empire that was drawn up in about 420.27 The images that accompany the text show the codicils of office and other insignia for each post. Although they only survive in late medieval copies of a lost fifth-century original, they appear to show distinctions between the codicils, based on decoration. Throughout the manuscript these imperial codicils are shown uniform in size, but with differing decoration according to the seniority of the office. But whereas imperial codicils were the official sign of rank, conferred at an elaborate ceremony in which the recipient ‘adored the purple’,28 consular diptychs were private pr ivate offerings, theoretically without any constraints on their size or subject matter. matter. Justinian’ss law Justinian’ law code is explicit explicit about about the freedom freedom of consuls to demonstrate their generosity in any way that they see fit (so long as they do not dispense gold): ‘distribution may absolutely depend upon the desire and pecuniary resources of the donor donor..’29 Just as quantity of decoration decoration is an unreliable unreliable guide to the status status of the recipient, so to is quality quality.. It is difficult to find a clear correlation between quantity and quality on consular diptychs. The quality of carving varies var ies considerably: for example, the carving of the heads of the audience abov abovee the arena on the Areobindus Areobindus full-figure panels is cursory and hasty compared to that of the exquisitely precise lions’ heads on the otherwise unadorned diptychs of Justinian fifteen years later ( plate 11).30 This is comparable to the quality of engraving on the three Constantius dishes, which varies considerably:: the engraving of the emperor on horseback dish is sloppy and hasty considerably compared to that of the other two dishes, and its gilding frequently runs beyond the figures and onto the background. Indeed, it must be doubtful whether the fees paid to craftsmen were a significant factor in the cost of producing the ivories or the silver,, compared to those of acquiring the materials in the first place (the hunting of silver the elephants or the mining of metals) and the expense of transportation. The fact that both ivories and silver were produced in large quantities would inevitably inevitably have required a compromise on quality control. A final, fundamental problem with the association of ivory with rank lies in the value of the material itself. The correlation between weight and value is self-evident for the largitio dishes and medallions, in which the bullion value could be realized simply by melting down the objects. Ivory has no equivalent potential value, despite the cost of the material. Whilst the costs involved in acquiring and carving ca rving the ivory may have have been high, the value of o f the final product produ ct is harder hard er to assess. asse ss. They were expensive to make, an honour to receive, but but essentially worthless to the recipient. The diptychs had no realizable value in themselves: ivory ivory could not be melted down or used as currency currency.. They were were difficult to recycle: the crude re-carving of the imperial 750

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9 Silver dish with profile bust of Constantius II, 343. Silver with gilding, 232-3 mm (diameter ), 634.6 g (weight). (weight ). St Petersbu Petersburg: rg: The State Hermitage Museum (inv. ΓЭ 1820/158). Photo: © The State Hermitage Museum/ Vladimit Terebenin, Terebenin, Leonard Leon ard Kheifets,,Yuri Molodkovets. Kheifets 10 Silver dish of Constantius II on horseback, horseb ack, 343. Silver with gilding, 250 mm (diameter), 660 g (weight). (weight) . St Petersbu Petersburg: rg: The State Hermitage Museum (inv. ΓЭ 1820/79) 1820/79).. Photo: ©The State Hermitage Museum/ Vladimit Terebenin, Terebenin, Leonard Leon ard Kheifets,,Yuri Molodkovets. Kheifets


faces and the medallion monogram on the Orestes diptych shows the restrictions faced by anyone anyone wishing to stamp their own image or authority on such suc h an object. As Anthony Cutler has pointed out, they are a form of ‘unliquid’ wealth. wealth.31 This places the ivory diptychs in a very different class of object from other gifts in the period. The true value of a consular diptych lay symbolically in receiving it, and practically in the gifts of silver that generally accompanied it.32 All the references references to consular gifts made by Q. Q. Aurelius Symmachus in his letters present ivory diptychs as accompaniments to silver.33 From this point of view, view, consula consularr diptychs were perhaps closer in function to seals. They authenticated the gifts that were handed out. They also provided a record of those gifts long after the silver itself had been melted down, or re-inscribed to be passed on to the next recipient in the apparently endless chain of gifts and exchanges that existed at the Byzantine court in the sixth century. century. Indeed, the permanence of the ivory must have been one of its most valuable assets to its commissioners.34 Its inflexibility and inalienability inalienability as an object was the best guarantor of the preservation preser vation of the consul’s consul’s memory: the diptych makes concrete what Marcel Mauss first recognized as the indissoluble bond of a thing with its original owner.35 Both the ecclesiastical authorities who were the first first to re-employ diptychs (possibly as early as the end of the sixth century) and later the Carolingians found them hard to re-use.36 Once inscribed with more than a couple of layers layers of ink 37 38 to record names, or incised with pray prayers, ers, the reverses reverses of diptychs became frozen, apparently never never to be updated further, further, possibly consigned to cathedral treasuries treasuri es by changes change s in the liturgy liturg y, but more likely by the inability to keep kee p updating the t he lists. This suggests that consular diptychs would work well well as gifts to be sent outside Constantinople.They had a high intrinsic value, yet almost no worth in terms of re-sale or re-use. Unlike the silver that they accompanied, their value could not be realized.They would thus be a very secure gift to send. The Clementinus diptych of 513, which had clearly travelled from Constantinople to Rome before 530 (when it was recarved for the Roman consul Orestes), suggests that diptychs may have have been exchanged between the consuls of the Old and New Romes. This clearly continued after the fall of Italy to the Ostrogoths, and indicates that consular diptychs played

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11 Consular diptych of Justinian, 521. Ivory,each leaf leaf 350 × 145 mm. m m. New York: Metropolitan Museum (Gift of J. Pierpont Morgan, 17.190.52 17.190.52,, .53). Photo: ©The Metropolitan Metropo litan Museum of Art.

a part in the maintenance of the fiction of the unity of the empire that all sides continued to maintain in the sixth century. century.This might explain the early appearance of many of these diptychs outside Constantinople. From this it can be seen that the creation of a putative ranking system among ivory diptychs is extremely difficult. The empirical evidence, indeed, suggests an absence of hierarchy hierarchy..This is supported by the limited internal evidence about the nature of the recipients which appears on the series of consular diptychs carved for the consulships of Justinian in 521 and Philoxenus in 525.39 Tw Twoo of the three diptychs diptyc hs linked to Philoxenus have Greek inscriptions. One, inscribed on a ‘simple’ diptych diptych adorned only with a geometric design and two acanthus leaves, reads: ‘For someone who is august in rank and character I, Philoxenus, being consul, offer this gift.’ gift.’40 This text is deliberately vague and impersonal, and appears to have been designed to be suitable for a recipient of any rank. It is the equivalent of an off-the-shelf greetings card. The other, inscribed on a ‘medallion’ diptych, with the bust of the consul abovee that of a tyche of Constantinople, goes further in indicating the seniority of abov the recipient: ‘I, Philoxenus, Philoxenus, being consul, bring this gift to the wise Senate’( Senate’( plate 41 12). In this Philoxenus seems to have followed followed the lead set by Justinian four years © Association of Art Historians 2010

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earlier, for two of Justinian’s three surviving diptychs are inscribed with identical earlier, Latin texts: ‘These gifts, slight indeed in value but r ich in honours, I as consul offer to my senators.’ s enators.’42 Howev However er,, before Justinian’ Justinian ’s reforms of 537–8, 537–8 , when he had been emperor for a decade, the membership of the Senate was enormous: it had been expanded to about 2,000 under Constantius II, and not reformed since.43 Within the Senate, the importance and influence i nfluence of men varied var ied greatly, greatly, yet these diptychs applied equally to all. These inscriptions also undermine one of the main assumptions about the function of consular diptychs. They are generally thought to have been individual gifts designed to promote the consul among his peers through his wealth, and build up his networks of patronage patronage,, influence and friendship. As such, they are seen as part of o f the web of power relationships relatio nships that t hat worked within with in the city ci ty.. However However,, the medallion diptych of Philoxen Philoxenus us which is addressed to a generic g eneric corporate cor porate identity, identity, and the simple diptychs of Justinian which are offered ‘to my senators’, both imply group gifts, in which identification of individual recipients is explicitly avoided. They therefore therefore nullify the potential political power of such gifts and appear more as impersonal objects perhaps produced as a requirement of the post rather than to advertise the individual.

12 Consular diptych of Philoxenus, 525. Ivory, each leaf le af 350 × 130 mm. Paris: Cabinet des Médailles, Bibliothèque nationale de France. Photo: © Bibliothèque Bibliothèque nationale de France, BnF.


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These inscriptions do little to help identify recipients, and less to help rank the diptychs accordingly. accordingly. There is no correlation here between rank and diptych type: senators are offered both medallion and a nd simple types.The evidence suggests, instead, that the various types were interchangeable: suitable suitable for individuals and institutions, and with no apparent difference in rank. Diversity and Visual Languages

13 Transfiguration in the apse of S. Apollinare Apollinare in Classe near Ravenna, 549. Mosaic. Photo: © Sacred Destinations Images.


Instea d, it is possible to look at the diptychs Instead, diptyc hs in a different way, way, and work work on the basis that all ten leav leaves es surviving from Areobindus’ Areobindus’ consulship should be seen as equal, as should their audience.The diptychs are therefore equivalent means of projecting Areobindus’ self-image self-image and authority a uthority among his peers.The variations in the decoration must, then, have have been designed to appeal to the differing expectations and understandings of various groupings within this elite.The distinctions in audience are due to ways of looking, rather rathe r than rank or o r wealth. We should distingui di stinguish sh between registers of visual language in the diptychs. diptyc hs.The different formats are designed to suit the varying expectations of the many audiences Areobindus needed to appeal to.This is comparable co mparable to the different d ifferent levels of language lan guage that were employed in early ea rly Byzantine literature: the writer chose the style of writing that would most suit the audience to which it was addressed.44 A model for this is presented in the educational curriculum curr iculum of late antiquity a ntiquity..The progymnasmata (exercises in rhetoric) of Aphthonius Aphthonius the Sophist, written in the second half of the fourth century, century, sought to teach the tools of rhetoric to the elite of the empire. Some time after the fifth century an anonymou anonymouss prolegomenon was added, which dealt explicitly with different forms of language, and and how to understand them: ‘There are three characters of style: grand [ἁδρός], plain [ταπεινός], and middle [μέσος].The grand style has pompous words but plain thought, as are the works of Lycophron Lycophr on [“the Obscure”, a Hellenistic poet of the third century BC]; the plain has elevated thought but plain words, as are the writings of [St John] the Theologian; Theologian; the middle has neither elevated thought nor pompous diction but both moderate, as are the writings of [St John] Chrysostom for the most part. part.’’45 This cannot, of course, be translated directly across to the reading of consular diptychs, but it does provide an analogous way to divide the different types.The ‘grand’, which is bombastic but literal, has parallels in the extended narratives on the full-figure type; the ‘plain’, whose simplicity relies on elevated thought, compares to the simple diptychs and their reliance on symbolism; and the middle, which runs between the symbolic and the narrative, matches the medallion type. A similar tri-partite tr i-partite division can be found throughout the late antique educational system, and students were taught to seek to understand what they read, heard and saw in different ways. Drawing on Origen Ori gen (On first principles 4.2.4–9), for example, readers and viewers were were taught to be alert aler t for three levels of interpreting the writing in the Scriptures: Scri ptures: 46 the literal, the moral and the theological. There is ample evidence for the use of separate, alternative but equivalent symbolic languages to make images in this t his period. per iod. We have already seen it i t on the largitio silver of Constantius II, and it is evident even in the high expense of monumental mosaic. It has long been recognized that any viewing of the great figural monuments of Justinian’s reign must look beyond the literal.l. At San Vitale, litera Vitale, Ravenna (consecrate (cons ecratedd 548), the 754

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14 Transfiguration Transfiguration in the apse of St Catherine’s Monastery, Mount Sinai, Sin ai, Egypt, 548–65. Mosaic. Photo: © Robert S. Nelson.


staccato narrative, narr ative, non-chronological non-chronological juxtaposition and hierarchical organization of the imagery throughout the apse immediately moves the viewer beyond the literal.47 And in other churches from his reign additional layers of meaning are added by the employment of different modes of representation. The use of different visual languages is most apparent in the apses of the church of S. Apollinare in Classe near Ravenna (consecrated in 549) ( plate 13), and the monastery of St Catherine on Mount Sinai in Egypt (built between 548 and 565) ( plate 14). Both preserve images of the Transfiguration, and both arise a rise from the same circle of imperial patronage centred on the emperor Justinian. Jus tinian. However, However, the visual visua l languages through which the iconography is shown are radically different.The Transfiguration Transfiguration at S. Apollinare Apollinare in Classe uses a clearly symbolic visual language, in which signs – lambs lambs and the cross cross – act as signifiers for the apostles and Christ. Even the inscriptions identifying Christ do so indirectly and in different languages: ΙΧΘΥΣ (the Greek word for 'fish, an acronym for: Ἰησοῦς Χριστὸς Θεοῦ υἱος σωτήρ ‘Je ‘Jesus sus Christ, Chr ist, Son of God, Saviour’) above the cross, Α and Ω to either side, and Salus Mundi (Latin for ‘Saviour of the World’) World’) below below..The stress s tress on the non-literal is further underlined by the apse’s insistence on repetition and surface s urface pattern. The rhythmic spacing of the rocks roc ks and plants across the background bac kground and the relentless, undifferentiated register of sheep (representing the twelve apostles) deny any attempt to read the image as narrative.The secondary focus of the apse, the central figure of St S t Apollinaris Apollinaris (the only whole figure in the composition, c omposition, and the only element given an unambiguous identification), is not connected to the ostensible subject of the image i mage at all. Instead, as the first bishop of the region, he ties the biblical past into the (legendary) ecclesiastical past of Ravenna, presenting the bishop as a thirteenth apostle. His pose links both pasts to the present, and echoed the gestures of prayer that would have have been made by the officiating officiat ing clergy who would have stood below be low the image during duri ng the liturgy liturg y. As an image, this scene must be decoded rather than read, its elements separated out and translated, before they can be understood.48 In contrast, the apse at St S t Catherine’s presents the Transfiguration Transfiguration in an apparently literal way. way. Here we can immediately identify the participants (all named bar Christ, Chr ist, whose cruciform halo acts as an a n identifier), their roles in the biblical narrative and their emotional reaction to Christ’s metamorphosis. This is a very different form of representation from the church c hurch at Classe, but even within this image, different visual languages are employed. employed. It has long been recognized that the six figures are depicted using different visual modes: the apostles and prophets are given a more volumetric and weighty appearance than the distinctly flatter and more dematerialized Chr ist.49 The varying degrees of naturalism convey the participants’ different place on the scale of humanity from the earthly apostles to the divine Christ. The theological messages that art historians have discerned in both churches suggest that they were each designed for visually literate and sophisticated audiences able and adept at reading into the details of the image series of interrelated, inter related, but 755


distinct theological and even political messages.Whilst geography obviously determines the audiences of these churches churc hes to a great extent, it is neither possible nor reasonable to discern any hierarchical difference between the two; rather the differences in representational language must be linked to the specific theological needs of the communities for which whic h each image was designed. Returning to consular diptychs, it is now possible to propose that each type presents an image of the consul’s authority or wealth, but using a different visual language.The first, simple, type depends entirely on a metaphorical language of symbols, relying on an understanding of the conventions employed, the imagery of wealth and plenty plenty.. The cornucopia are in essence a symbolic way of rendering of Areobindus’ wealth and generosity, generosity, identical in meaning to the more literal display of boys pouring out sacks sac ks of money and ingots that Clementinus, Magnus and Justinus were to employ employ on their their diptychs in 513, 513, 518 and 540. 540.50 The emblematic language of fecundity that the cornucopia and potent vines represents finds a further comparison in the decoration of the church c hurch of St Poly Polyeuktos euktos in Constantinople, built 51 by Areobindus’ Areobindus’ wife Anicia Juliana in c. 524–7. This church was built expressly to convey the family’s family’s wealth and prestige, and its interior inte rior was covered in a latticework latti cework of vines and ivy tendrils as well as cornucopia, cor nucopia, which adorned columns, capitals, and cornices ( plate 15).52 Indeed, there there are similarities in the style of the sinuous vines on the Lucca diptych and those carved car ved onto the columns of the church, suggesting that both can be seen as part of a broader, broader, consolidated visual language employed by this prestigious family in Constantinople.The visual richness r ichness and vitality of the foliage reinforces the actual wealth of Anicia Juliana and her claim to pow power er that was spelled out literally in the inscription that ran around the interior of the c hurch.53 The appearance of a cross on the Lucca diptych, diptyc h, notably notably absent from all the others in Areobindus’ series, adds to this emphasis on symbolic s ymbolic rather than literal depiction. Why Areobindus should have proclaimed his Christian allegiance here, when he felt it unnecessary on all his other surviving diptychs, is mysterious; but but perhaps indicates again the way in which diptychs were made for particular groups of recipient, in this case perhaps a senior church official. Equally,, the second ‘medall Equally ‘medallion’ ion’ group should not no t simply be seen see n as a reduced version of the full-figure type.Whilst the imagery on the medallion diptych in the Louvre is indeed more abbre abbreviated, viated, it is not necessarily more straightforward. The absence of the narrative and descriptive elements that make the full-figure type so ripe for analysis by modern scholars cannot be ascribed ascr ibed solely to a more junior recipient. Rather, Rather, it suggests the opposite. View Viewers ers are required to bring much muc h more of their own knowledge and experience to bear on the diptych. The attributes of the consul are necessarily necessar ily more symbolically laden as they are not supplemented or explained by other details, and need to be read and deciphered fully to understand the consul’ consu l’ss authority author ity.. More significantly significa ntly,, the absence of the consul’s c onsul’s names and titles titl es might suggest a greater degree of familiarity between the consul and the recipient. To identify the consul here requires an ability to decipher his monogram, by no means a straightforward task.54 Moreover Moreover,, the monogra monograms ms here are in Greek, unlike the Latin monogram given on the Lucca diptych. Latin was still the official administrative language of the empire at this time, and the shift on these leaves to Greek suggests a move away away from the official towards the personal pers onal and familial; familia l; a move move much lamented by the bureaucrat John Lydus (whose decision to write in Greek himself declaims the non-official nature of his history).55 A similar distinction appears appears in the use of Greek and Latin on the diptychs of Justinian and Philoxenus. Philoxenus.


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15 Marble impost capital from H. Polyeuktos, Polyeuktos, Constantinop Consta ntinople, le, 524–7. Photo: © Antony Eastmond.


The full-figure diptychs are the one group that spell out fully the consul’s position, his wealth and virtues, virt ues, his generosity gen erosity and a nd his games. g ames. To modern moder n viewers they effectivelyy act as the key to unlocking the meanings of effectivel the other two groups.The subtle variations var iations between the various consular types – the variance between abstract and narrative depictions, between Latin and Greek, between overt identification and more cryptic portrayal, between verbal and visual account – do not seem to havee hierarchical underpinnings. Rather they seem to hav be designed for different groups within the elite, each with different ways of reading the imagery depending on their proximity to the consul himself. Whilst this account provides a parallel by which whic h to interpret the different visual languages used by the diptychs, it does not yet explain why the consuls needed to use them all. However However,, a possible explanation explanati on can be found again in the teaching teac hing of rhetoric in late antiquity antiquity,, in this case in conjunction with epistolary epistolar y theory. theory. This is validated by our knowledge that, as Symmachus records, diptychs were sent out with letters (and silver) to friends and persons of consequence. Although ancient rhetoricians seem mostly to have have been concerned with types of letter (censorious, congratulatory, ironic, apologetic, etc.)56 rather than the levels levels of language within with in them, there is evidence that they th ey were were each written wr itten differently dif ferently,, and Epi stolikoii (compiled geared to the varying needs of their audience. The treatise Typoi Epistoliko between the second century BC and the third century AD, AD, and falsely attributed to Demetrius of Phalerum), opens: ‘According to the theory of epistolary types, … [letters] can be composed in a great number of styles, but are written in those that always fit the particular circumstances.’57 Howev However, er, as no different styles are discussed, discus sed, it is clear that the audience is expected to recognize and understand these without further explanation. In the sixth century century,, the most eloquent teacher of epistolary form remainedd Cicero (106–43 remaine (10 6–43 BC), who was rather rathe r more explicit: expli cit: ‘Y ‘You ou see, I have one way way of writing what I think will be read by those to whom I address my letter, letter, and another way of writing what wha t I think will be read re ad by many’ (Epistulae ad familiares 15:21:4).58 The meaning is identical, but the method of conv conveying eying it changes. All writers write rs agree, however however,, that letters are designed desig ned to bridge brid ge the gap between the correspondents, and to evoke a face-to-face encounter between the letter writer and the recipient.59 Letters must, then, conv convey ey the same information in different ways, way s, depending on the relationship between the writer and the recipient. As Julianus Victor notes in his Ars Rhetorica Rhetorica (fourth century AD):‘letters should conform with the degree of friendship [you share with the recipient] or with his rank.’ rank.’60 The degree of distance, whether geographical or in terms of network zones, will determine the manner in which the information is presented.61 Menander Rhetor, whose Treatise was written in the third or fourth century centur y AD AD, is explicit in reminding his readers that it is not necessary to describe what people already know. know.62 This has a direct analogy in the diptychs: diptyc hs: those who are closer to the consul, either physically or socially, socially, do not need to have his virtues spelled out as fully or as obviously as those in the outer zones of his network of contacts. The consul’s consul’s intimates could be expected to infer from the simple or medallion diptychs all the information that needed to be supplied in the full-figure diptychs diptyc hs to those that lack direct knowledge of him. Julianus Victor also makes reference in the same text to explicitness of language. He states that cryptic language is permissible between close acquaintances, so long as its meaning 757


is ‘perfectly ‘perfectly evident’ to the intended recipient. This would fit the simple diptychs being destined for the closest acquaintances (although his warning that ‘while you strive for brevity, brevity, do not be so elliptical that effort must be expended on the truncated argument’ may may explain why no consuls after Areobindus produced simple diptychs that were quite so emblematic in form).63 His overall advice – that letters should be clearer than conversations, as points cannot be further explained – again supports the idea that consuls needed to present themselves unambiguously to those outside their immediate circle.64 There is one final literary comparison to consider in conjunction with the visual language of consular diptychs: encomia. It should be possible directly to compare encomia and diptychs: both sought to praise their subjects through a highly developed develo ped and structured str uctured genre with a clear format and defined goals. Although primarily for people, encomia could also praise countries, cities, bays, harbours and even dumb animals.65 The format for encomia of great men that is outlined in the progymnasmata demanded a tri-partite tr i-partite description of the subject’s achievements, achievements, illustrating the qualities of soul (especially the cardinal virtues: piety, piety, courage, justice and wisdom) and of body (beauty, (beauty, strength) and the possession of external goods (friends, wealth, influence).66 This outline for an encomium highlights the limitations of consular diptychs. They could not easily portray all the elements traditionally required when praising a great man. Whilst the full name of the consul in the titulus indicated his birth and ancestry,, nurture and education are less easy to visualize. Qualities of soul are even ancestry harder to demonstrate. Essentially it is the existence of the diptych that demonstrates them: the fact that the consul is in the position he is in reflects his innate qualities of piety,, courage, justice and wisdom. piety wisd om. However However,, these are most easy ea sy to extrapolate extrapo late from the full-figure diptychs. The medallion diptychs give little of this information, and the simple ones even less, although it is tempting to see their abstract nature as an a n attempt to represent these intangible qualities. Consular diptychs instead concentrate on the final area of praise: the possession of wealth and a nd power. power.67 This is the message that all forms of diptych repeatedly emphasize to the view viewer er,, both through their medium and their iconographies. However Howev er,, from the point of view of an orator, or ator, this was perhaps pe rhaps the least lea st important impor tant element in an encomium, it was little more than a referent for the great man’s other qualities.The progymnasmata of Aphthonius emphasizes that encomia should concentrate on intrinsic, intr insic, rather than transitory tra nsitory,, qualities: birth and virtues vir tues come before deeds, and rewards are clearly envisaged as the result of the inherent virtues.68 The emphasis on wealth and display in fact opened consular diptychs to a different attack: that of self-glorification. Imperial images could be presented simply as representations of imperial office, and in many cases were commissioned not by the emperor himself but by communities to adorn their towns.69 Consular diptychs, in contrast, were unambiguous self-proclamations of power. In c. AD 100 Plutarch had written a treatise ‘On the manner in which we may may praise ourselves without exciting 70 envy in others’. This discussed the tact required and the precautions precautions necessary to removee offensiveness, but neither tact nor precaution is obvious in the diptychs.71 remov The unabashed self-glorification of consular diptychs is surprising given that its consequences could often be lethal. Many consuls came to regret their prominence when they became embroiled on the losing side in the apparently ceaseless struggles to gain, hold or usurp the imperial throne in the fifth and sixth centuries. centur ies.This brings us to the final paradox parad ox of consular diptychs: dipt ychs: monotony. monotony.


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Monotony

Having discussed diversity of diptych production within one consulate, it is now necessary to examine an apparently contradictory element in their production: the conformity conform ity,, indeed monotony monot ony,, of diptychs. diptyc hs. This really rea lly raises the question ques tion of what wh at to do with an old diptych (assuming they do not become the diaries, love letters or Romances of wistful Roman women, as Sir Lawrence Alma-Tadema Alma-Tadema imagined in his 1892 painting, Comparisons, now in the Cincinnati Art Museum). Monotony must be assessed by looking at production across the sixth century. century. There is a regularity within each class c lass of consular diptych that is extraordinary for privately produced objects for which no official r ules applied, and which delineated no bureaucratic or imperial hierarchy hierarc hy..This relies on examining the diptychs diachronically rather than synchronically synchronically,, and considers the cumulative imagery on consular diptychs over the decades of the sixth century. century. Even if we accept Delbrueck’ Delbr ueck’ss overlyy generous estimate of the manufacture of about 100 diptychs per consul per overl year (which quickly adds up over just one century to 20,000 diptychs, and so can easily be expanded to reach his proposed total for the period per iod of ‘possibly 100,000’ 72 diptychs), it is not actually a quantity that would go particularly far on an annual basis among the elite of Constantinople (with a Senate in the region of possibly 2,000 members before Justinian’s Justinian’s attempts of 536–7 to reduce it in size), let alone among the broader elite of the empire if, as I propose, a proportion was sent abroad to announce the new consul.73 Within Constantinople, circulation must have have been restricted: restr icted: the endless overlaps overla ps between wealth, membership of the senate, court and military appointments, all woven woven through marriages into the broader imperial family in the early sixth centuryy, suggest an annual circulation centur circ ulation among amon g a very tightly knit group. Of the twentytwentyseven eastern consuls from 500 to 541, twenty were either the emperor himself or members of the imperial family, family, and all the others seem to have had close court 74 connections. As a result it is perhaps more sensible to view these consular gifts as an annual circulation of such objects within a small group rather than as an annual distribution to a much wider audience. This raises the spectre of certain senatorial, court and imperial families literally having cupboards full of these diptychs, and a dding new ones on a yearly ye arly basis. The armarium images in the late medieval copies of the Notitia dignitatum show how such objects could be conceived c onceived of as a collection, lined up in an office or home ( plate 16).This fits with what we know about the reciprocity of gifts, especially espec ially in late antiquity antiqu ity..75 Thus, when Justinus sent out his diptychs in 540, we we can reasonably posit an important senator, relative or ex-consul who would have received one and added it to an already extensive collection of such s uch objects. Thus, just to limit ourselves to recorded or surviving ivories, a Justinus diptych could find itself alongside those of Apion 539, Philoxenus 525, Justinian Just inian 521, Magnus 518, Anasta Anastasius sius 517, Anthemius 515, Clementinus, 513, and Areobindus 506. Whether displayed together as a form of living calendar,76 or whether each new consul’s consul’s diptych replaced that of his predecessors, whose diptychs were then retired to a cupboard somewhere, the result is strikingly monotonous. Between them, the two earliest diptychs provided the models for every element of the iconography of Justinus’ diptych: it is very hard to see any major shift shi ft in the display dis play of consular power.There are many small smal l differences, difference s, but the overall comparison is indistinguishable in essence. Indeed there was a stoc k of motifs that could be combined from year to year to make up the diptych: the boys pouring out sacks of bullion; the various elements that make up the circus c ircus entertainments. © Association of Art Historians 2010

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Cecilia Olovsdotter and others hav havee seemingly inexhaustibly teased out the subtle differences differenc es between leaves, but they have never never really considered consid ered the overwhelming overwhelmin g monotony that unites them far more than the differences that divide them.77 If placed alongside each other other,, these diptychs suggest that consular identity was about conformity and a deliberate corporate cohesion. Year after year the consul stressed the same message as his predecessors, and visualized it in the same way. way. The repetition is doubled again by the almost identical nature of the two leaves leaves of each diptych. diptyc h.This duplication across the leaves distinguishes the eastern diptychs from their western counterparts. All the surviving diptychs diptyc hs from Rome and the west date to the fifth century cent ury,, and seem to have have allowed a much freer relationship relation ship between the leaves.78 Equally Equally,, book covers covers or religious diptychs of this period, per iod, such as the sixth-century diptych showing Christ and the Virgin in Berlin, make the most of the requirement for hand carving of each leaf to double the range of imagery that was produced.79 The duplication of imagery on the eastern diptychs gives these objects a very different structure. The fact that the inscription inscr iption across the top of the diptychs runs across both leav leaves es forces the viewer to confront this duplication: the text of the consul’ss names and titles can consul’ ca n only be read by looking at each eac h leaf in turn. Thus for the diptych of Areobindus in Zurich (see plate 1), the inscription starts on the right leaf (the opposite of the order of the western diptychs).80 This gives his full names: FL[avius] FL[av ius] AREOB[indus] DA DAGAL[aifus] GAL[aifus] AREOBINDUS V[ir] V[ir] I[nlustris] (Flaviu (Flaviuss Areobindus Dagalaifus Areobindus, Areobindus, the Illustrious man).The titles continue on the left, back, leaf in ascending order of precedence: EX C[omite] SAC[ri] STA[buli] STA[buli] ET M[agister] M[ilitum] P[er] OR[ientum] EX C[onsule] C[onsul] OR[dinarius] (former count of the sacred stables and master of the army a rmy of the orient, former consul, ordinary consul). In order to read the full name and titles the viewer is required to view both leaves, thus imprinting impri nting the duplicatio dup licationn of the imagery. imagery. The duplication across leaves and across the years may have been an unwritten condition of the post itself.The limited and entirely ceremonial duties of the consul, and the weight of tradition that accompanied them one thousand years after the establishment establish ment of the instituti ins titution, on, would perhaps have made this inevitable. inevit able. However However,, a desire to conform may have have had other motivations behind it. The elevated status of the consuls, their wealth and connections may have encouraged a form of institutional conformity conform ity and anonymity anonymit y. Consuls were among the few men in a position pos ition to be able to court the popularity that they would need alongside their wealth to seize power in Constantinople. Vitalianus’ murder in the palace in 520 during his consular year year,, supposedly on the orders of Justinian, seems to hav havee been motivated by just such a fear of the coincidence of his imperial ambitions and his position and popularity in the public’s publi c’s eye. eye.81 And the Nika riot of 532 put forward two former consuls, Hypatius Hypatius 82 (cos. 500) and Pompeius (cos. 502), as pretenders to the throne. This continuing fear of rivals emerging among the consuls seems to have led to Justinian’s decision to end the institution later in his reign. In 512, Areobindus had been forced to flee Constantinople when his wealth (derived from his marr iage to Anicia Anicia Juliana) and his prestige (derived from having been consul in 506) made him a popular candidate for the imperial throne during dur ing a revolt against the emperor Anastasius. Anastasius.83 Areobindus seems to have played played no part in this revolt, but but his public position had given him that role despite himself. The ultimate fate of failed consuls was plain for all to see, and had been enshrined in the law code of Theodosios in the fourth century. century.The disgrace of the consul Eutropius in 399 was to be eternal: ‘His splendour has been stripped awa awayy and the consulate delivered from foul muck and from the need to remember his name and its © Association of Art Historians 2010

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16 Armarium Armarium in the Notitia Dignitatum, 1542, copying a fifth-century original . Munich: Bayerische Bayer ische Staatsbibliothek (Clm. 10291, fol. 199v). Photo: © Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek.

filthy squalor. squalor.This has been done so that, once every item of business he transacted has been revoked, silence may fall for all time and the stain on our age may not be made visible by his name being listed among the consuls ... We direct that all statues, all likenesses, whether they be of bronze, or of marble, or painted (or of whatev whatever er material these images may be made), should be obliterated from all cities, towns, and from public and private places, so that this blot on our age may not defile the gaze of those who look loo k upon it.’ it.’84 This is strikingly stri kingly different from the west, where the Gothic rulers of the late fifth and early sixth centuries encouraged their consuls to generosity. generosity. Theoderic wrote to Felix, western western consul in 511: ‘This is an occasion where extravagance extravagance earns praise … where one gains in good opinion all that one loses in wealth.’ wealth.’85 More confident confident in the loyalty of his (non-Roman) troops, Theoderic was perhaps more secure in his ability © Association of Art Historians 2010

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to buy the Romans’ acquiescence acquie scence and an d continued loyalty with other oth er people’s money. money. However Howe ver,, the diptychs’ visual evidence evide nce of a move towards a sense of corporate corpor ate rather than individual identity among the consuls of the east in the sixth century seems to undermine what are otherwise some of the key factors in becoming a consul at all. As first noted by Edward Gibbon, the post of consul existed ‘for ‘for the sole purpose 86 of giving a date to the year and a festival to the people’. Consuls’ immortality was assured by the requirement to name them in i n identifying any particular year; and Kim Bowes Bow es has argued that the consulship was popular precisely as a vehicle for individual, not corporate, memorial.87 She argues that the attraction of accepting the consulship was simple: although it required enormous expenditure (much of it underwritten by the imperial coffers in Constantinople), its reward was the consul’ consul’ss place in history. history. With the bureaucratic year named after him, and his name added to the consular lists his everlasting memorial was guaranteed (bar disgrace of the sort that Eutropius suffered). The imagery on consular diptychs also a lso reveals a tension with John Matthews’ arguments that consular games were held ‘in a spirit of anxious rivalry’, knowing that their expenditure on the games would be compared to that of previous consuls.88 The visual evidence of the surviving diptychs cannot support such an individualistic reading.. Whilst Justinian was famed for outspending all other consuls on his games in reading 521 (a total of 228,000 solidi), that expense was not explicitly revealed revealed in his consular 89 diptychs. At the very least we must see it as a war of excess fought behind a curtain of sameness. In the same way way that the tetrarchs of the late third century asserted their power pow er through visual solidarity with one another, another, so too in the sixth s ixth century it seems consuls proclaimed their position by downplaying downplaying their separate identities. The individualization of consuls in this period is carried car ried out within very strict limits: Within the corpus of full- and half-figure diptychs Areobindus is only distinguished from Clementinus or Anastasius by the relative chubbiness of his cheeks,90 and the same hair styles and round faces faces appear on the diptychs at the end of the sequence. Only Only Magnus’ receding hairline and beard,91 and Philoxenus’ square jaw and heavy jowls help them stand out from this sequence,92 but again in both cases the distinctions are relativel relativelyy small. Whether they were viewed in series or in parallel in the sixth century, century, it is hard to see these objects standing out as manifestos of individuals’ importance. Again diptychs here seem to match elements of epistolary theory. theory. Letter writing was learned via models rather than manuals, and so it encouraged emulation and imitation over originality. originality.93 Ultimately,, it is impossible to square the circle that this paper has investiga Ultimately investigated: ted: the paradoxes of diversity diver sity and monotony monot ony,, and of corporate conformity con formity and individua in dividuality lity.. This can only be because the positions of the consuls could not be reconciled either. The role of consul was entirely concerned with individual display and spectacle, but the political dangers that accompanied the consulship required anonymity. anonymity. Consuls sought both to present their prestige to a variety of audiences, and so required a variety of visual languages to display that authority; yet simultaneously, they sought anonymity in the thousand years of tradition that underpinned under pinned their role before its abolition by Justinian in 541.The visual forms of praise that they employed employed ultimately all sought to say the same thing, and used different modes to portray particular institutional rather than individual virtues.


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Notes

1

Justinian, Novellae , eds R. Schöll a nd G. Kroll [Corpus iuris civilis: 3], Berlin, 1928, 105.1; trans. in The Civil Civi l Law, includ including ing the Twelve Twelve tables: tabl es: the Institutes of Gaius, the Rules of Ulpian, the Opinions of Paulus, the Enactments of Justinian, and the Constitutions of Leo, ed. S. P. P. Scott, vol. 17, Cinci natti, OH, 1932; 193 2;

2

3

4

5 6

7 8

9

10 11 12 13 14 15 16

17

reprin t: NewYork, 1973, 17: 105.1: reprint: 105.1 : ‘Concer ‘Concerning ning the seven processions proc essions of the consuls’. D9–15/V8–14. The numbering numbering is taken from: D = Richard Delbrueck, Berli n, 1929; 192 9; V = Wolfgang Wolfgang F. Die Consulardiptychen und verwandte Denkmäler , Berlin, Volbach, Elfenbeinarbeiten der spätantike und des fr ühen Mittelalters [RömischGermanisches Zentralmuseum zu Mai nz. Katalog: 7], Mainz, 1952, 2nd edn. Delbrueck, Consulardiptychen, 10, estimates that each consul may have produced 100 diptychs, but this number is pure guessw guesswork, ork, based on the assumption of a survival rate of no more than 10 percent (i.e. the ten leaves of Areobindus). Areobindus).The multiple production of diptychs is considered consid ered below. below. Eighteen leaves from 12 diptychs diptychs of full-figure type (D9–12/ V8–11 [Areobindus, 506]; D16/V15 [Clementinus, 513]; D17/ V16 [Anthemius, 515]; D18–21/V17–21 [Anastasius, 517]; D22/ V23–24 [Magnus, 518]; D32/V31 [Orestes, 530, probably probably re-cut from a Clementinus panel, see note 24]); 12 leaves from 7 diptychs of medallion type (D13–14/V12–13 [Areobindus, 506]; D29/V28 [Philoxenus 525]; D33/V32 [Apion, 539]; D34/V33 [Justinus, 540]; D41–42/V41–42 [both anonymous]); 12 leaves from 7 diptychs of simple type (D15/V14 [Areobindus, 506]; D21bis/V22 [Anastasius, 517]; D26–28/V25–27 [Justinian, 521]; D29, D31/V28–29 [Philoxenus, 525]).This count excludes the diptych of Basilius, 541, (D6/V5), which is now generally accepted to have been made in Rome for the eastern consul: Alan Cameron and D. Schauer, Schauer, ‘The last consul: Basilius and his diptych’, Journal of Roman Studies, 72, 1982, 126–45 . A possible fourth category, category, the ‘imperial diptych’, is represented only by fragments of an anonymous five-part panel in Milan: D49/V49. D20/V18; Paul Williamson, The Medieval Medie val Treasury: The Art of the Middle Ages i n the Victoria Victoria and Albert Museum, London, 1998, 52–3. The emphasis emphasis on full-figure full-figure diptychs is evident in both both Cecilia Olovsdotter, The Consular Image:An Iconological Study of Consular Diptychs, [BAR International Ser ies: 1376], Oxford, 2005, and in the essays in Massimiliano David, ed., Eburnea Diptycha. I dittici d’ avorio tra Antichità e Medioevo, Bari, 2007. Paul Veyne, Le pain et le cirque. Sociologie historique d’un pluralisme politique, Paris, 1976, trans. Brian Pearce, Bread and Circuses. Historical Sociology and Political Pluralism, London, 1990. The honourable honourable exception exception is Anthony Cutler Cutler,, ‘The making of the Justinian diptychs’, Byzantion, 54, 1984, 75–115, reprinted repri nted in A. Cutler, Late Antique and Byzantine Ivory Carving [V [Variorum: ariorum: CS61 7], Aldershot, 1998, Study Stu dyV. V. Quintus Aurelius Symmachus, Lettres III (livres VI–VIII) , ed. and an d trans. tra ns. J. P. P. Callu, Paris, 1995, 7.76, quoted in Alan Cameron, ‘Obervations on the distribution and ownership of late Roman silver plate’, Journal of Roman Archaeology, 5, 1992, 180, along with two very similar quotations. For the legal use of diptyc diptychs, hs, Elizabeth A. Meyer, Legitimacy and Law in the Roman World: World: Tabulae Tabulae in i n Roman Belief Be lief and an d Practice Practic e, Cambridge, 2004. The most recent attempt to hypothesize hypothesize the interior written content is Kim Bowes,‘Ivory lists: Consular diptychs, Christian appropriation and polemics of time in Late Antiquity’, Art History, 24: 3, 2001, 338–57. 338– 57. Delbrueck, Consulardiptychen, 10–16. Delbrueck, Consulardiptychen, 16. Olovsdotter’ss refusal to examine them has already Olovsdotter’ already been noted in the review by Anthony Anthony Cutler,‘The consular diptych and the limits of iconology’, Journal of Roman Archaeology, 19: 2, 2006, 711. Cutler,, ‘The making of the Justinian diptychs’, 105: ‘it is likely that the Cutler three varieties of diptych … were intended for different different grades’. Martín Almagro-Gorbea, Almagro-Gorbea, José Álvarez Martínez, José José Blázquez Martínez and Salvador Rovira, eds, El disco disc o de Teodosio Teodosio [Estudios del Gabinete de Antigüedades: 5], Madrid, 2000. Accepting the general concensus that 1 roman lb = 327.168 g, then the missorium should weigh 16.13 kg (it actually weighs 15.35 kg kg.) .) Marlia Mundell Mango andAnna Bennett, The Sevso Sev so Treasure Treasure vol. 1, Journal of Roman Archaeology Supplementary Series, 12: 1, 1994, 153: the Achilles plate has a diameter of 720 mm; and weighs 11,786 g.


18 For example, example, he has been identified as Cynegius, Praetorian prefect of the East 384–8 (Bente Kiilerich, Late Fourth-century Classicism in the Plastic Arts: Studies in the so-called Theodosian Theodosian Renaissance, Odense, 1993, 22) or Constantius III (J. Meischner, Meischner, ‘Das Missorium des Theodosius in Madrid’, Jahrbuch des deutschen archäologischen Instituts, 111, 1996, 419). In contrast, Leader-Newby Leader-Newby has proposed that the dish was made by the depicted recipient to link his promotion to the decennial of the emperor: Ruth Leader-Newby Leader-Newby,, Silver and Society in Late Antiquity: Functions and Meanings of Silver Plate in the Fourth to Seventh Centuries, Aldershot, 2004, 48. 19 J. P. C. Kent and K. Painter, eds, Wealth of the Roman Ro man World: Gold and Silver AD300–700, London, 1977, nos. 1–10: each weighing approximately 0.5, 1 and 1.5lb. R. Delmaire, ‘Les largesses impériales et l’emission d’argenterie d’argente rie du IVe au VIe siècle’, siècl e’, in N. Duval and F. Baratte, eds, Argenterie Romaine et Byzantine, Paris, 1988, 114, lists all the Licinius pieces, with further furth er bibliography bibliogr aphy.. For a brief overview overvi ew see Leader-Newby, Silver and Society, 16–17. 20 This was presumably presumably the case with the nine dishes in the Munich hoard and the three in the Cˇervenbreg hoard (Bulgaria) which both add up to about 8lb 8l b of silver. si lver. See Leader-Newby, Leader-Newby, Silver and Society, 18–19, for further references. 21 Jocelyn M. C.Toynbee, Roman Medallions [Numismatic Studies: 5], New York, 1944, 116–17. 22 John Lydus, Ioannes Lydus On Powers,or the Magistracies of the Roman State, ed. A. C. Bandy [Memoirs of the American Philosophical Society: 149], Philadelphia, PA, 1983; and lively discussion in Christopher Kelly Kelly,, Ruling the Later Roman Empire [Revealing Antiquity: 15], Cambridge, MA, and London, 2004. 23 D16/V15. 24 D32/V31. The identification of the Orestes diptych as originally a Clementinus diptych has been convincingly made by N. Netzer, Netzer, ‘Redating the consular i vory of Orestes’, Burlington Magazine, 125, 1983, 265–71. Olovsdotter, Consular Image, 31–2, disagrees, but does not provide a clear alternative explanation for the evident alteration to the heads of the consul and imperial couple. 25 D33/V32. In comparison, the roughly contemporary contemporary archangel leaf in the British Museum is 428 × 143 mm (612.04 cm2 ): slightly taller but less wide, and again here the left edge tapers at top and bottom to match the curvature of the tusk: most recently published in Robin Cormack and Maria Vassilaki, eds, Byzantium 330–1453, London, 2008, 2008 , no. 21. 26 The three dishes are all in the State Hermitage Museum, Museum, St Petersburg: Petersburg: Constantius on horseback (Hermitage inv. ΓЭ 1820/79) is 660 g; the dish with profile bust of Constantius (Hermitage inv. inv. ΓЭ 1820/158) is 634.6 g (and ha s an inscription on the reverse claiming it to weigh 1 pound, 11 ounces, 8 scr uples = 636 g);The other dish weighs 642.4 g: Leonid Matzulewitsch, Byzantinische Antike. Studien auf Grund der Silbergefässe der Ermitage, [Archäologische Mitteilungen aus russisc hen Sammlungen: 2], Berlin and Leipzig, 1929, 95–107, esp. 107 n.1; pls 23–25; see now Antony Eastmond, Robin Cormack and Peter Stewart, eds, The Road to Byzantium: Luxury Arts of Antiquity, London, 2006, nos. 61 and 62. 27 Munich Staatsbibliothek MS Clm. 10291 fols 178r–222r. See P.P. C. Berger, The Insignia of the Notitia Dignitatum: A Contribution to the Study of Late Antique Illustrated Illustrated Manuscripts, NewYork, 1981, 25–31, 175–83; 17 5–83; figs 1, 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, 15, 17, 23, 24, 46, 48, 49, for portrait-bearing codicils and full discussion of the manuscript history and the authenticity of the images. See also Robert J. Grigg,‘Portrait-bearing codicils in the illustrations of the Notitia Dignitatum?', Journal of Roman Studies, 69, 1979, 107–24. 28 Lydus, Magistracies of the Roman State, 3.4; Kelly, Ruling the Later Roman Empire, 19 quoting 3.4. 29 Novel 105.2; trans. in The Civil Law, 105.2: ‘Concerning the wife and mother of the consul’. 30 Areobindus: D9–12/V8–11; Justinian: Justinian: D26–8/V25–7. On the technical aspects of the carving car ving of the Justinian diptychs: Cutler,‘The making of the Justinian diptychs’. 31 Anthony Cutler, Cutler, ‘Prolegomena to the craft of ivory carving in late Antiquity and the early Middle Ages’, in X. Barral i Altet, ed., Artistes, artisans et production artistique a u Moyen Age Age: 2: Commande et travail, Paris, 1987, 431–75, at 433. 32 Although Alan Cameron,‘Obervations on the distribution and ownership of late Roman silver plate’, 185, has doubted even this, declaring that silver was ‘not ‘not all that valuable’.

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33 Symmachus, Lettres III (livres VI–VIII) , 7.76. 34 Most gifts in la late te antiquity were were rather more more impermanent, impersonal or transferable; compare the many gifts of food, horses, robes, etc., that are recorded in letters: Ian Wood, Wood,‘The exchange of gifts among the late antique aristocracy’, ar istocracy’, in Almagro-Gorbea,Álvarez Martínez, Bláz quez Martínez, and Rovira, eds, El disco disc o de Teodosio , 301–14, esp. 301–2. 35 Marcel Mauss, The Gift: Forms Forms and Functions of Exchange in Archaic Societies, London, 1954, 62. 36 The Areobindus leaf in the Louvre (D13/V12) was carved with an image of creation in the ninth century: Danielle Gaborit-Chopin, Ivoires médiévauxVe–XV e–XVee siècle, Paris, 2003, nos 8 (front), 41 (reverse). 37 For example, example, the Boethius diptych of 487 [D7/V6] whose interior includes two painted images and a list of ma rtyrs of the seventh century: centur y: ‘Dipty ‘Diptyques’, ques’, in F. Cabrol and H. Leclercq, Lecler cq, eds, Dictionnaire d’archéologie chrétienne et de liturgie: 4.1, Paris, 1920, cols 1045–170, or the Lucca diptych [D15/V14] inscribed with a list of martyrs in a sixth- or seventh-century Lombard hand: ‘Diptyques’, col. 1085. 38 As Clementinus [D16/V15], reused reused in Rome during the pontificate of Hadrian I (772–95): ‘Diptyques’, cols 1087–90. 39 D26–31/V25–29. 40 D30/V29: [Dumbarton Oaks]:Τω ΣΕΜΝΥΝΟΝΤΙ ΤΟΙΣ ΤΡΟΠΟΙΣ

ΤΗΝ ΑΞΙΑΝ ΥΠΑΤΟΣ ΥΠΑΡΧ ωΝ ΠΡΟΣΦΕΡω ΦΙΛΟΞΕΝΟΕ.

41 D29/V28 [Paris, Cabinet des médailles]: ΤΟΥΤΙ ΤΟ Δ ωΡΟΝ ΤΗ ΣΟΦΗ ΓΕΡΟΥΣΙΑ ΥΠΑΤΟΣ ΥΠΑΡΧωΝ ΠΡΟΣΦΕΡω ΦΙΛΟΞΕΝΟΣ. 42 D26–2 D26–28/V25– 8/V25–27: 27: + MUNERA PARVA PARVA QUIDEM PRETIO SED HONORIB[us] HONORIB [us] ALMA + PATRIBUS PATRIBUS ISTA IS TA MEIS OFFERO CONSUL EGO. 43 Arnold Hugh Martin Jones, The later Roman Empire, 284–602: A Social, Economic and Administrative Survey, Oxford, 1964, 526–7. 44 On levels of literature see Ihor Ševcˇenko, ˇenko, ‘Levels of style in Byzantine Byzantin e literature’, in Akten der XVI Internationaler Byzantinistenkongress I.1, Vienna, 1981, 289–312. 45 Hugo Rabe, ed., Prolegomenon Sylloge , Leipzig, 1931, 79.25–80.7; trans. G. A. Kennedy, Progymnasmata: Greek Textbooks of Prose Composition and Rhetoric, Atlanta, GA, 2003, 95: ‘Aphthonius ‘Aphthonius uses all three: the grand in ethopoeia, the relaxed and plain in ekphrasis, and the middle in some of the others.’ oth ers.’ 46 Mich Michael ael Trapp, Greek and Latin Letters: An Anthology wi th Translations Translations, Cambridge, 2003, 334. 47 For the fullest exegesis exegesi s of the imagery, see Otto von Simson Simson,, Sacred Fortress: Byzantine Art and Statecraft in Ravenna, Princeton, NJ, 1948, 23–39; Friedrich W. Deichmann Deic hmann,, Ravenna, Hauptstadt des spätantiken Abendlandes. Geschichte Geschichte und Monumente [I], Wiesbaden, Wiesbaden, 1969, 234–43 and Friedrich Fr iedrich W. W. Deichmann, Deichman n, Ravenna, Hauptstadt des spätantiken Abendlandes. Kommentar II, Wiesbaden Wiesbaden,, 1976, 166–94. 48 Fuller interpretations interpretations of the apse appear appear in Deichmann, Ravenna I, 261–70 and Deichmann, Ravenna, Hauptstadt des spätantiken Abendlandes. Kommentar II, 245–72; von Simson, Sacred Fortress, 40–62, and Andreas Andreopoulos, Metamor phosis: The Transfigurati ransfiguration on in Byzantine Byz antine Theology and NY, 2005, 117–25. 117–2 5. Iconography, Crestwood, NY, 49 Kurt Weitzmann, ‘The mosaic in St Catherine’s Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai’, Proceedings of the American Philosophical Society , 110: 6, 1966, 392–405; for fuller interpretations: Jas Elsner,‘The viewer and the vision: The case of the Sinai Apse’, Art History, 17, 1994, 81–102; Andreopoulos, Metamorphosis, 127–44. 50 Clementinus: D16/V15; Magnus Magnus (later copies): D23–25/V24bis; Justinus: D34/V33. 51 R. Martin Harrison, A Temple for for Byzantium:The Discovery and Excavation Excavation of Anicia Juliana’s Palace-church in Istanbul, Austin, TX, 1989. 52 Harrison, A Temple for for Byzantium, fig. 104 for cornice with monograms, vines and cornucopia. 53 The starting point for for the extensive extensive literature on on the church is Harrison, A Temple for Byzantium, 33–41; see also als o Mary Whitby, Whitby, ‘The St Polyeuktos Polyeu ktos epigram (AP 1.10): a literary approach’, in S. F. Johnson, ed., Greek Aldershot, t, 2006, Literature in Late Antiquity: Dynamism, Didacticism, Classicism, Aldersho 159–88. 54 See Antonio Francesco Gori, Thesaurus veterum diptychorum consularium et ecclesiasticorum, Florence, 1759, I:227, ‘Diptyques’, col. 1112, and Delbrueck, Consulardiptychen, 117, for doubts about deciphering the monograms. 55 Lydus, Magistracies of the Roman State, 3.42; with discussion discus sion in Kelly, Ruling the Later Roman Empire, 32–4.


56 For a list of the letter types see Carol Poster, Poster, ‘A conversation halved: Epistolary theory in Greco-Roman Antiquity’, in C. Poster Poster and L. C. Mitchell, eds, Letter-writing Manuals and Instruction from Antiquity to the Present, Columbia, SC, 2007, 28–30. 57 Abraha Abraham m J. Malher Malherbe, be, Ancient EpistolaryTheorists, Atlanta, GA, 1988, 30:1; Poster,‘A conversation conversati on halved’, halved’ , 25. 58 Jeffrey T. Reed,‘The epistle’, epistl e’, in S. E. Porter, ed., Handbook of Classical Rhetoric in the Hellenistic Period 350B.C. – A.D.400, Leiden, 1997, 171–93, 171–9 3, esp. 173; Similarly Gregory Nazianzus (Epistulae 51:4) distinguished between the style of his writing according to his audience: Reed,‘The epistle’, 184–5. 59 Reed,‘The epistle’, epistle’, 185. 60 Malherbe, Ancient EpistolaryTheorists, 64.8–9; Poster, ‘A conversation conversati on halved’, 35. 61 For an introduction introduction to networks networks and zones: zones: John John Scott, Social Network Analysis:A Handbook, London, 1991, 7–38. For its practical application in Byzantium: Margaret Mullett, Theophyl Theophylacht acht of Ochrid: Reading the Letters of a Byzantine Archbishop [Birmingham Byzantin e and Ottoman monographs: 2], Aldershot, 1997, 163–222. 62 D.A. Russell and N. G.Wilson, eds, Menander Rhetor , Oxford, 1981, 198 1, Treatise II, 428, ll.7–9; ll.7– 9; discussion discussi on in Ruth Rut h Webb, Webb, Ekphrasis, Imagination and Persuasion in Ancient Rhetorical Theory and Practice, Aldershot, 2009, 160–1. 63 Malherbe, Ancient EpistolaryTheorists, 62.20–5. 64 Malherbe, Ancient EpistolaryTheorists, 62.15–17. 65 Russell and Wilson, Menander Rhetor , 28–74; Rabe, Prolegomenon Sylloge , 18, trans. Kennedy, Progymnasmata, 82. 66 This list brings together together the various elements listed in the treatises: treatises: Kennedy, Progymnasmata, 50–2, 81–3, 108–11, 154–62, 206–10. 67 It would perhaps be fairer to compare diptychs with praise, which Nicolaus the Sophist distinguishes from encomium: ‘Encomium differs from praise in that praise is constructed from few words – for example, mention of one good thing – whereas encomium is developed through an account of all the virtues and all the excellences of what is being praised’’ (Kennedy, Progymnasmata, 155). Pseudo-Libanius makes a praised similar distinction (Malherbe, Ancient EpistolaryTheorists, 70.14–19). 68 Kennedy, Progymnasmata, 108. 69 Peter Stewart, Statues in Roman Society: Representation Representation and Response, Cambridge, 2003, 83–91; Robert R. R. Smith, ‘Late Antique portraits in a public context: Honorific statuary in Aphrodisias in Caria, AD300–600’, Journal of Roman Studies, 89, 1999, 155–89. 70 Plutarch, ‘Traités 37–41’, in Oeuvres morales: 7 part 2, 2 , eds R. Klaerr Klae rr and Y. Y. Vernière, Paris, 1974, Treatise 40, 64–85; discussed disc ussed in Georg Misch, Mis ch, A History of Autobiography in Antiquity, London, 1950, I:173–4. 71 Aelius Aristides, writing c. AD 170, takes an opposite view:‘pride in one’ss actions is in every way one’ way an old custom and a Greek one too, and that without this pride there would be accomplished among ma nkind neither a memorable deed nor a significant word, nor anything else’, in his Oration XXVIII:‘Concerning a remark in passing’: Aelius Aelius Aristides, Aelii Aristidis opera opera quae exstant omnia, ed. B. Keil, vol. 2, Berlin, 1898, 18; trans. C. A. Behr, Aelius Aristides:The CompleteWorks, Leiden, 1981, 110. 72 Delbrueck, Consulardiptychen, 10. 73 Moreove Moreover, r, under Justinian the number of high honorary officials proliferated: prolifera ted: S. J. B. Barnish, A. D. Lee and Mich Michael ael Whitby, Whitby, ‘Governmen ‘Governmentt and administ ad ministration’ ration’,, in A. Cameron, B. Ward Ward Perkins Perkin s and M. M . Whitby, eds, Cambridge Ancient History XIV XIV:: Late Antiquity:The Empire and Successors AD425–600, Cambridge, 2000, 177. 74 Roger S. Bagnall, Alan Cameron, Seth R. Schwartz and Klaas A. Worp, Worp, Consuls of the later Roman Empire [Philological monographs of the American Philological Association: 36], Atlanta, GA, 1987. 75 Useful evidence is collected in Wood,‘The exchange of gifts’, 301–4; Mauss, The Gift, remains the primary anthropological source for these ideas. 76 This could be in addition to (rather (rather than in opposition opposition to) Kim Bowes’ Bowes’ argument that the lists were inscribed inside the diptychs: Bowes,‘Ivory lists’. 77 Olovsdotter, Consular Image, 73–178, provides the fullest such investigation. 78 D1, 7, 2, 57, 65, 63, 64 /V1, 6, 35, 58, 62, 63, 64.The contrast contra st between the two leaves of the Basilius diptych of 541 is one of the pr incipal reasons for its attribution to Rome rather than Constantinople: Cameron and Schauer,‘Last consul’.

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79 V137. For recent bibliography: bibliography: Cormack andVassilaki, Byzantium 330– For ivory bookcovers boo kcovers see John Lowden, Lowden , ‘The word made 1453, no. 25. For visible:The exterior of the early Christian book as visual argument’, in W. E. Klingshirn Klingshir n and L. Safran, Saf ran, eds, The Early Christian Book, Washing Washington, ton, DC, 2007, 13–47. 80 On this issue see Josef Josef Engemann, ‘Zur Anordnung Anordnung von Inschriften und Bildern bei westlichen und östlichen Elfenbeindiptychen des vierten bis sechsten Jahrhunderts’, Jahrbuch für Antike und Christentum 28: Chartulae. Festschrift f ür Wolfgang Speyer , Münster, 1998, 109–30. 81 The murder is recorded recorded in John Malalas, Chronographia, ed. L. Dindorf, Bonn, 1831, 412; trans. and ed. Elizabeth Jeffreys, Michael Jeffreys and Roger Scott, The Chronicle of John Malalas [Byzantina Australiensia: 4], Melbourne, 1986, 232–3, with commentary. 82 Malalas, Chronographia, 475–6; trans. and ed. Jeffreys, Jeffreys and Scot t, The Chronicle of John Malalas , 278–81. 83 Ludwig August Dindorf and Bartho Barthold ld Georg Niebuhr, eds, Chronicon paschale [Corpus scriptorum historiae Byzantinae: 7–8], Bonn, 1832, 610; trans. tran s. and ed. Micha el Whitby and Mary Whitby, Chronicon Paschale 284–628 AD [Translated Texts Texts for Historian Hist orians: s: 7], Liverpool, 1989, 102. Malalas, Chronographia, 407; trans. and ed. Jeffreys, Jeffreys, and Scott, The Chronicle of John Malalas, 228. 84 T. Mommsen and an d P.P. M. Meyer, eds, Theodosiani libri XVI cum Constitutionibus Sirmondianis: Et Leges novellae ad Theodosianum pertinentes, Berlin, 1905, 9.40.17; trans. C. Pharr, Phar r, TheTheodosian Code and Novels and the Sirmondian Constitutions, Princeton NJ, 1952, 9.40.17. 85 Cassiodorus, Senatoris Variae, ed. T. Mommsen, Mommsen , Berlin, Berlin , 1894, II.2; I I.2; A. Cameron and D. Schauer, Schauer, ‘The last consul: Basilius and his diptych’, Journal of Roman Studies, 72, 1982, 139. 86 Edward Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, London, 1994, vol 4, ch. XV. XV. 87 Bowes, ‘Ivory lists’, 347. 88 John Matthews, Western Aristocracies and Imperial Court, AD 364–425, Oxford, 1975, 13. 89 Bria Briann Croke, ed., The Chronicle of Marcellinus [Byzantina Australiensia: 7], Sydney, 1995, 41. 90 Compare D10/V9 D10/V9 [Areobindus] with D16/V15 [Clementinus] and D21/V21 [Anastasius]. 91 D22/V23. 92 D29/V28. 93 Poster,‘A conversation halved’, 22.


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