This is the third instalment in a series of articles by Classics Ambassador Ffion
Shute introducing lesser-known Roman authors. The series covers forgotten gems
ranging from history to architecture to military tactics, whose authors deserve to
be more widely known. Strictly no Livy or Tacitus here: these articles will help you
to know your Frontinus from your Fronto! This month’s instalment features…
Vitruvius
Marcus Vitruvius Pollio is an elusive figure. While many are familiar with his name, little is known about his life and there are surprisingly few references to him in modern books on Roman culture. His own writing tells us that he lived during the first century BCE, serving as a praefectus fabrum (military engineer) under Julius Caesar. His only known work, De Architectura (On Architecture), is a guide to various aspects of architecture and civil engineering, spanning topics from the styles of temple columns to the layout of a theatre to the heating systems of bathhouses.
There are very few mentions of Vitruvius in other ancient sources, but one of them is from our old friend Frontinus, who references him very briefly in his De Aquis in connection with the standard sizing of pipes. Despite the lack of material on his life, Vitruvius’ ideas have had a profound influence on diverse areas of architecture and art in more recent centuries. His handbook of design for all kinds of structures is extremely important for both the study of Roman architecture and later European architecture inspired by those classical models.
De Architectura
It was quite common for Roman authors to write a preface to set out their aims and, often, to praise their wealthy patrons. In this, Vitruvius is no exception. De Architectura’s preface dedicates the whole work to the Emperor Augustus, cautiously stating that the author would never have published such a work in times of war, but that during a time of established peace, it was appropriate for a treatise on architecture to serve as a handbook for the construction of Augustus’ future public building projects. Vitruvius emphasises his impressive CV as a builder and mender of “catapults, siege-engines and other artillery” but offers his work as an aid to Augustus’ patronage of the arts. Even in this short passage, he reveals himself as pragmatic, reinventing himself in changing times.
Vitruvius presents his work to the emperor Augustus in an engraving by the 17th century French artist Sébastien Leclerc. The architect’s work is somewhat larger in this scene than my paperback edition.
The body of the work is systematically divided into 10 books, each of which focuses on a major architectural theme. The first three books set out the basic principles of construction, building materials and proportion, while the next two books progress onto public buildings such as temples and theatres. Books 6 and 7 describe the construction and decoration of houses, before the last three books turn to more engineering-focused topics, with descriptions of water-wheels and siege-engines, among other things. Vitruvius’ tone throughout most of the books is very different from the humble character of the preface. He is incredibly opinionated, setting out his own principles of architecture and design as absolute fact with complete inflexibility.
He begins his first book by explaining the qualities that should be expected in a good architect, requiring them to be both endowed with natural talent and well practised at their skills, and familiar with both the practical and theoretical sides of their fields. He says that the ideal architect should have a well-rounded education, having knowledge of music, medicine, law and astronomy in order to begin designing the buildings in which these arts were conducted. This sounds quite esoteric, deriving from the Greek philosophical idea that only ‘morally good’ individuals could create ‘morally good’ objects (this idea appears in Aristotle’s discussions of practical wisdom and utility in his Nicomachean Ethics). For example, a good theatre would be strong, symmetrical and have good acoustics, and the good architect with knowledge of music and drama would know how to achieve this. Meanwhile, an architect with knowledge of (admittedly primitive) medicine might know how to appropriately position a temple to stop an unhealthy wind from bringing disease upon the worshippers.
The second book outlines some proto-scientific ideas about the nature of substance, before taking an extremely practical approach to building materials. In a section on building walls, Vitruvius weighs up the advantages and disadvantages of different wall construction methods, saying that “opus reticulatum looks better, but its constitution lends itself to cracking”, while “opus incertum… while it is not beautiful, it is stronger”. Both of these wall styles are present in the remains of buildings at Rome, Pompeii and other sites. Passages like this one on the practical aspects of construction are repeated throughout the work, written in a straightforward and authoritative style. My personal favourite is his ultimate test for good spring water, which involves seeing whether “green vegetables cook quickly when put into a vessel of such water over a fire”. If said vegetables do cook properly, this is final proof that the water “is good and wholesome”.
Opus reticulatum is one of the most common styles of Roman wall unearthed in central and southern Italy. Its diamond-shaped construction allowed it to be built very quickly by largely untrained craftsmen. This example is from Ostia, Rome’s port town.
Despite the work being for the new imperial age, not all of Vitruvius’ recommendations involve techniques or materials associated with glory and luxury. One section explores the history and usage of different paint and fabric dyes, noting how expensive authentic purple colours derived from shellfish were, before giving an explanation of how cheaper versions of the same colour could be achieved by using roots or berries. There is also surprisingly nuanced attention to non-Roman locations and ideas: whereas a more short-sighted writer might have focused on the techniques and materials found in Rome and central Italy, Vitruvius continually talks about the variations of art styles or building materials according to where they are to be found in the empire.
Many passages have fascinating explanations for the ingenious Roman structures uncovered by archaeologists. Book 5 contains a description of the heating systems for bathhouses. This involved channelling pre-heated water through a system of bronze cauldrons in order to heat the different temperatures of baths, as well as creating a steam chamber underneath the floor that warmed the rooms without the need for an open furnace in the actual baths. Other passages, often on more artistic topics, are a matter of heated opinion.
Vitruvius’ practical mentality clashes with whimsical artistic styles that existed at the time, most notably in Book 7, Chapter 5, where he writes a tirade against frescoes that employed abstract effects such as “reeds in place of columns”, as well as the portrayal of mythical beasts and large floral designs. He goes on to complain that “such things do not exist, cannot exist, and have never existed”. His background in utilitarian military engineering clashes with the more imaginative and diverse art styles than began to increase in popularity during the 1st century BCE. Though he has more to say about art than almost any other ancient author, we would not today consider him to have an artistic spirit!
A fresco from the ‘House of Augustus’ on the Palatine Hill. Vitruvius would have found these columns suspiciously slender!
The whole work is an impressive attempt to systematise a complicated and diverse technical subject. It draws on Greek influences and was ahead of its time in its rational and comprehensive treatment of its subject. In contrast to the haphazard approach of miscellanists, or even that of Frontinus in his treatises, Vitruvius managed to produce a uniquely rigorous and highly useful handbook.
From Augustus to the present day
Vitruvius wrote De Architectura for the approval of the Emperor Augustus, whose victory over Marcus Antonius to become sole ruler of the Roman Empire had been portrayed as a victory of culture as much as anything else. While Antony had been vilified as a weak man corrupted by the seductive and amoral powers of ‘the East’, Augustus set himself up as a strong leader, ready to use traditional values to lead the empire into a new age of glory. This is mirrored in Vitruvius’ architectural agenda: opulence and fantastical Hellenistic themes were ‘out’, while the aesthetic functionality of classical, Attic-inspired architecture was ‘in’. The domination of this style became the template for Roman art and architecture for centuries to come, with most public buildings being drawn from Augustan period ideas. Augustus was famous for “finding Rome a city of bricks and leaving it a city of marble”, which made later emperors want to emulate his improvements. We cannot know to what extent Vitruvius’ actual work was used in the centuries after his death, although the lack of references to him in other sources seems to suggest that he was not especially famous. Evidently, the wealthy owners of houses in Pompeii had not read De Architectura – even their service corridors began to be decorated in his hated fantastical style in the century or so after his death.
Whatever his degree of influence in his own times, Vitruvian styles and ideas were resurrected during the Renaissance. Leonardo da Vinci named his famous Vitruvian Man figure after him, having drawn the anatomical study from Vitruvius’ theories of proportion. Although it would be far-fetched to compare the two men in terms of personality (da Vinci’s restless creative genius is a long way from Vitruvius’ dogmatic practicality), they nevertheless have many similarities. Both of them committed to paper fundamental principles of art and engineering that have proved extremely influential. Both of them took a ‘jack-of- all-trades’ role in the service of wealthy patrons, including in the military context.
Leonardo da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man has become one of the staple images to represent the High Renaissance and western culture in general.
Vitruvius’ three requirements of a good building are firmitatis, utilitatis and venustatis, which translate respectively as strength, utility and beauty, which are sometimes referred to collectively as the ‘Vitruvian Triad’, a concept used today in architecture, graphic design and other areas. However rigid and artistically conservative Vitruvius might seem, his systematic and practical recording of design principles undoubtedly have an impact down to the present day. De Architectura (On Architecture) is available in a Penguin Classics illustrated edition. It’s not an easy read, but surprisingly not ridiculously technical! Overall, it can be an enjoyable read for enthusiasts of both classics and architecture.
Next time, we might even get to Fronto!
©FfionShute
