Time, it is said, is a tyrant. Observed in its movement across centuries, however, it behaves more like a mischievous prankster than a dictator. As though it were a child bored by the prospect of an abyss of days, one exactly like the next, time plays jokes that little-by-little turn kings into beggars, the center of the Roman Empire into pastureland for sheep or an ancient sarcophagus into the tub of a fountain. In a recent example of time's extravagance, the blow of an archaeologist's tool has revealed that the marble face of a great emperor has been lurking for centuries in a sewer conduit beneath the center of Rome.
This newly discovered head of Constantine the Great, found with its eyes filled with mud, is revealed in a temporary display at the Capitoline Museums. The find occurred as excavations into the sewers and drainage systems underlying Trajan's Forum were getting underway. The investigation, part of a larger archaeological project initiated the Jubilee year of 2000, focused on the subterranean level of the Imperial Forum, leading to more than a few discoveries, among which the last one is without doubt the most astonishing.
The head, almost twenty-four inches in height, is carved in the famous white Carrara marble often used by the ancient Romans, and except for a partially missing nose, it is in good condition. The eyes- large under the protruding brow, the hair- wavy but controlled, the lips- thick, but without a hint of sensuality, all contribute to a solemn gaze exulted above normal worldly passions and focused austerely on a distant, indefinable point.
This is the same expression on the face of the colossal head of Constantine resident on the Capitoline hill since 1471 when Pope Sixtus IV made it a gift to the City of Rome. With this bequest, which included other antique works, the Palazzo dei Conservatori became the first museum of the epoch. This recently discovered portrait typifies the images of Constantine dating from his victory over Maxentius at the Milvian Bridge in 312. This was the image the Emperor wanted to impress on the ancient world in his ascent as sole sovereign over what was by then a disjointed and tormented Roman Empire.
Following Roman sculptural practices at the time of Constantine, the portrait was created from a pre-existing statue. The most visible signs of this are in the cranium and indicate that the original head was bald. An empty cavity along the forehead for a vanished crown completes the identification of the original sculpture as a portrait of a member of the royal family. The colossal statue of the Emperor Nero in gilded bronze, parts of which were still present in the vicinity of the Colosseum at the beginning of the twentieth century, is also a famous case of a sculpture recycled many times over the centuries. We know, in fact, that on the orders of Vespasian it was refitted with the face of the Sun God after the death of Nero, and recent studies purport that the colossal bronze head of the Emperor Constantine in the Capitoline Museums is the last reconstruction of Nero's bronze flesh, the final chapter in this example of the ways that men, gods and their representations are transformed by time.
But how did the head of the Emperor Constantine end up lying for centuries in a sewer pipe? How could it come to rest in such an ignominious bog? We know that during the Middle Ages people abandoned any works of art bearing the stamp of pagan times, often destroying them in order to use them as raw material. But Constantine, the Emperor who issued the Edict of Milan legalizing Christianity and recognizing the value of the Christian community, who financed basilicas and arbitrated theological disputes, and who presided over the first councils of the Church, was always a figure of supreme veneration. How and why this venerable portrait came to be shoved into a sewer pipe is a mystery, though one thing is certain: it was lodged there intentionally. First analyses suggest that the head was used in a crude attempt to solve an ancient plumbing problem, pushing the marble piece into the sewer pipe to clear a blockage. Its positioning in the pipe makes it evident that it was purposefully stuffed inside there, but we may never quite know why such a precious object was used in this manner.
There are other theories on how the emperor’s head came to rest in the bowels of the drainage system. Literary sources testify to the presence of a colossal statue of Constantine on Trajan's Forum dating from at least the Early Middle Ages. Following an invasion or a war, this statue could have been destroyed. The surviving head, no longer considered an object of value, would have been seen simply as an extraordinary boulder- scrap material- to be used wherever it was needed. Or it could have been desecrated for other reasons. In Rome in 326 AD, there was a serious rebellion against Constantine who was, with the exception of the Christians, resented by residents of the city. They were right to think Constantine did not love their city as he stayed in Rome only briefly before moving the capital of the Empire to ''New Rome,'' which became known as Constantinople, glorifying his name forever.
The sculpture is being restored, and more precise information about its history will be revealed in the process. For the moment, we are left to enjoy this work of art and its mystery. Like every other antique work, it tells us of time, of men and women now unreachable, of events and ideas long in the past, emphasizing that the passage of time itself is no less enfolded in mystery than the details of the lives of its most renowned personalities.
Rosario Gorgone
T. E. Artistic Director
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