Mann 1

DePaul University

The Parthenon Frieze: Intentional Limits on the Mortal Gaze

Jacqueline Mann

Mann 2

Considering the incredible detail put into the Parthenon frieze, one would expect its

imagery to be far more visible to its visitors. Instead, as brought up by countless researchers in

the past, these marbles are not only at a height and furthermore a sharp angle which would

restrict their visibility, but they are also in a position which leaves them obstructed and in

shadow. However, perhaps these details were never meant to be seen by mortal viewers, but

were really meant as a gift to the gods. In this case, one may expect that the figures would be

completely invisible to the human eye, but I propose that they are meant to be just visible enough

so that a mortal viewer is not only aware of their presence but is also aware of the limits which

restrict them as mortals. While mortals would face many limitations in the viewing of the

Parthenon frieze, the gods would have none of these, and the position of the frieze as well as its

great detail at the same time makes this relationship possible.

Examination of Position

That being said, we should still think briefly about how the frieze would have been seen

in its original position in order to understand further analysis of its meaning. (fig.1) First of all, it

would have been about forty feet off the ground, clearly too far away for anyone to have seen the

figures closely even if the frieze itself was three feet tall. It also would have been at a sharp angle

and, while the relief of the frieze is carved more deeply at the top than the bottom which suggests

an attempt at making the figures more visible to the viewers on the ground, it would still have

been difficult to see detail. 1 Furthermore, while these figures would have originally been painted

in order to make the details clearer, the entire frieze also would have been hidden behind a row

of columns and in deep shadow because the roof of the Parthenon would still have been present.

1 Osborne, “Viewing and Obscuring,” 98.

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Therefore, how could a visitor be expected to gain a full understanding of a series of images they

could see so little of?

Cross-Cultural Comparison

Comparison to other examples of the phenomena at work in the Parthenon can help to

make it clearer. In order to fully describe the importance of looking past the figural meaning of

sculpture such as that of the Parthenon frieze in order to discover further meaning, we can look at

another example of “inconveniently”-designed monumental sculpture with the Column of

Trajan. (fig.2) The column itself was built in Rome in 113-116 CE or after 117 CE, and it has

been proposed that the figural motifs winding up and down the entire column represent the

narrative of the Dacian campaigns, when Trajan “gathered the province of Dacia into the Roman

Empire, bringing much glory to himself.”2 While this structure is clearly much later than the

Parthenon and created by a different society all together, there are numerous similarities between

the two that make this a useful comparison. First, both were created as some type of battle

memorial, and both were created by the victorious parties of each battle, whether they are against

the Persians or the Dacians. Also, the surfaces of each monument are covered in carved figures

that, while once painted, are also tiny despite the massive size of their respective structures and

are difficult to see. Finally, the inability of a viewer to follow the proposed narrative exists in

both examples: the Parthenon’s frieze is obscured regularly by obstacles making it impossible to

view an entire section at once, and the way the narrative twists constantly around the Column of

Trajan makes it difficult for any viewer to follow its linear progression.3

2 Richard Brilliant, “The Column of Trajan and Its Heirs: Helical Tails, Ambiguous Trails,” in Visual Narratives:

Storytelling in Etruscan and Roman Art, (Ithica and London: Cornell University Press, 1984) 90. 3 Brilliant, “The Column of Trajan and Its Heirs,” 94.

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Veyne attempts to explain the lack of visibility in the Column of Trajan by asserting that

“the Column does not inform people; it simply lets them see the evidence of the greatness of

Trajan” and that “the best we can do with this kind of construction is not to give the decoration

in detail but to go above it.”4 Essentially, Veyne agrees that the figural elements tend to be the

objects of a distracted attention, and the fact that the Column as a whole was meant to symbolize

one larger idea without a full understanding of its imagery certainly applies to the Parthenon as a

symbol of Athens.5 Still, Veyne’s assumption that art is independently complete and requires no

further meaning at all assumes that the figures on the Column could have been completely

invisible and that they could still have accomplished their full potential. However, while Veyne’s

arguments are valuable in that they go one step further than many researchers by disregarding the

figural sculpture itself, the entirety of the Column, and the Parthenon’s frieze for that matter, are

not completely invisible but are, in fact, semi-visible.6 In fact it is this intentionality, of only

parts of these two structures being visible, that is the most important point in their appearance. In

the case of the Column of Trajan, it does not matter whether one can understand the entire

inscribed narrative because what little they can see is enough to tell them what the monument is

for while still withholding enough information that a tension is created.

In many cases, these intentional uses of only partial understanding were employed

through the written languages in sculpture as well. It is a well-known fact that literacy rates in

most ancient societies were extremely low, and that in most cases it was only members of the

upper-most classes who could read and write thoroughly. Therefore most written inscriptions,

including those written on public monuments, could only be read by a select few but were still

4 P. Veyne, “Conduct Without Belief and Works of Art Without Viewers,” Diogenes 143 (1988): 3-4..

5 Clemente Marconi, “The Parthenon Frieze: Degrees of Visibility,” in Anthropology and Aesthetics 55/56

(Spring/Autumn 2009): 169. 6 Marconi, “Degrees of Visibility,” 170.

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employed widely. In this case, since the upper-class creators of these objects were aware of their

high, extremely exclusive status and the abilities it made available only to them, they would also

have been aware that few others could have read the inscriptions but included them anyway.

Therefore we could assume that this, too, was intentional: the creators of objects with written

portions would have not only been aware of the limits of their objects, but they also created these

objects despite this, thus giving the included writings more power than if they had been

understandable by everyone. Of course, images are much more easily read than words and can

even be considered a language of their own, hence their use in many Christian churches as a way

to share the Bible’s stories with a widespread and often illiterate audience, but even this, of

course, requires the images to be fully visible which the frieze of the Parthenon is not.7

In fact in limiting a viewer’s ability to read the inscriptions on the monument, they

become much more than what their imagery actually identifies them as and instead they create a

tension between object and viewer which would otherwise be non-existent if they were either

completely visible or invisible. In fact, there seems to be a constant disproportion in Greek

temple decoration between the amount carved and the amount visible from the ground, and in the

case of the Parthenon this disparity is at an extreme. 8

Therefore, we can find various examples

of a human audience being limited in their understanding of structures, and these ideas can be

seen elsewhere in Greek monumental architecture as well.

Other Greek Monuments

We can also consider this examination of the Parthenon in relation to other Greek

monuments. In temples, we can see the placement of sculptural décor and the relationship it has

7 Edmund B. Feldman, “Visual Literacy,” Journal of Aesthetic Education 10, (July - October, 1976): 196.

8 Brunilde Ridgway, Prayers in Stone (Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of California Press), 81-82.

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with its viewers as being generally consistent with that of the Parthenon, even if the Parthenon

itself is at an extreme. One such example is the Temple of Zeus at Olympia, ca. 470-456 BC

(fig.3). Most interpretations of the sculptural elements separate them from their Olympic context,

focusing solely on hubris and consequent justice. On the other hand, Barringer claims that “the

sculptures were created to serve as positive models to inspire and exhort Olympic athletes to

deeds of honor and glory.” 9

However while the former denies the temple an in-depth analysis

including its context as an Olympic site and as a unified piece, Barringer fails to consider the full

importance of the site as, above all else, a temple to Zeus. Hubris and respect for the Gods was a

central aspect of the Greek world, and so to think the Greeks would prioritize the experience of

the Olympic competitors above that of the Gods for which the structure was created seems vastly

unlikely. In this case, the story of the Centaurs and of Herakles can both be seen as symbols of

the glory of Olympians and be meant to support them in their heroic feats, while simultaneously

reminding them to not reach too far for fear of the punishments of hubris should they challenge

the position of the Gods during the course of their tasks. Furthermore, this intentional ambiguity,

of the same images able to be read with two opposing meanings which prioritize human and

divine power, respectively, acts to remind viewers of this in the presence of this temple of Zeus

just as visitors to the Parthenon should be reminded of the power of Athena and of the limits put

upon them as mortals while in her presence.

We can see a clearer, more visually-based example in treasuries, particularly that of the

Athenian Treasury at Delphi (fig.4). Treasuries are found in major sanctuaries around the Greek

world with the evident purpose of holding the costly dedications to Gods.10

Of course, as Neer

argues, these treasuries were often used for far greater purposes, and while his focus is primarily

9 J. Barringer, “The Temple of Zues at Olympia: Heroes and Atheletes,” Hesperia 74 (2005), 211.

10R. Neer, “The Athenian Treasury at Delphi and the Material of Politics,” Classical Antiquity 23 (2004) 64.

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on the political meanings prescribed to these structures, we can also look at the materials used to

recognize important connections with other structures. For example, the Parian marble used to

build this treasury, while heaped with political and historical connotations, is also the same

marble used to construct the nearby Alkmaionid Temple, thus associating the two structures

together as one combined form.11

Not only can we therefore recognize the importance of the

relationship between treasury and its temple, but we can also apply this to the limits put on

viewers of the treasury itself. While any viewer can gain a surmountable amount of information

from the outside of the structure, as Neer explains, there is also a great deal they cannot learn

about it: most importantly, its contents. Treasuries are meant to hold the dedications of their

closely-associated Gods, of course, but they are also meant to protect these goods from mortals.

A viewer knows that the structure contains these numerous things of great value, but they will

never be permitted to see them, and in this we can see an extensive amount of limitation put on

human viewers because the enjoyment of these items is meant only for the God they have been

given to, just as the Parthenon frieze and its obscurity is a sign of its reservation for godly

consumption as well. This limited viewing of the treasury’s gifts to its God and its close

association with said God is therefore similar to the Parthenon in its limited viewing of the frieze

as a gift to Athena and its close association with her.

The Parthenon as a Gift

It is here that an even bigger idea for the building of the Parthenon and of its location

must be considered as an integral part of the frieze itself, and that is its function as a gift to

Athena. It has been proposed that the Parthenon itself can be considered a giant votive offering

to the goddess with the entire Athenian population meant to be honoring Athena, since their

11

Neer, “The Athenian Treasury”, 88.

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presence in a sanctuary while in close proximity to the divinity is similar to themes included in

other 5th

c. BCE votive reliefs.12

Therefore it would not matter if the exact subjects of the

included scenes were visible, so long as there was a permanent structure in place which honored

Athena in the name of all Athenians well into perpetuity. The Marble Votive Relief Fragment,

late 5th

c. BCE (fig.5) is an example of one of these votives. This one in particular is related to

childbirth. Childbirth in antiquity often resulted in the death of both the mother and infant. This

relief was presumably an offering to a healing deity, on the left, in thanks for protection during

the birth of a child. Therefore we can see the divinity and the mortals in close proximity just as

we know them to be on the Parthenon frieze.

Marcel Mauss’s ideas about gift-giving may also prove helpful in supporting this point.

His ideas include those of gift giving in a cultural sense, including “three rules of gift giving: the

obligation to give, the obligation to accept, and the obligation to repay.”13

So while gift giving

can be seen as spontaneous and voluntary, instead gifts are often given to achieve a specific goal,

which can relate to the building of the Parthenon because while most scholarship seems

disinterested in the structure’s role as a gift to Athena, this could in fact play a very important

part in its function. If we assume that Mauss is right in saying that all gifts are given with a

purpose, it becomes clear that this purpose in the case of the Parthenon has a few reasons: to

thank Athena for the victory over the Persians and to honor Athena as the patron goddess of the

city, but most importantly to continue pleasing Athena well into the future. The Athenians have

obviously given prayers to the goddess and accepted what they see as her blessing in the form of

their victories, but they also must repay her to ensure her continued favor. Therefore, the

12

Marconi, “Degrees of Visibility,” 171. 13

Jerry D. Moore, editor, Visions of Culture: An Annotated Reader (New York: Alta Mira Press, Division of

Rowman & Littlefield, 2009), 125.

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Parthenon becomes the repayment of Athena’s assistance and not simply a display of Greek

ability. It could still function as both, of course, but in proving that the Parthenon has the

important value of a gift, its use as such and its exclusivity to Athena above all others are clear:

the Parthenon assures the Athenians of their patron’s good will, and to betray this function by

allowing others to enjoy it would be folly and would fall short of the repayment required of

them, a payment seen in the case of other temples and treasuries.

Human Experience of the Parthenon

Of course, there must also be considerations made about the importance of the human

viewer which was seemingly considered quite thoroughly in the creation of the Parthenon. Not

only is the structure extremely visible upon the top of a hill overlooking the entirety of Athens,

but visitors are also made to work their way quite completely around the structure in its viewing.

Upon one’s arrival to the Acropolis, they made their way through the sanctuary entrance, passed

through the Propylaia, and walked past a huge bronze figure of Athena. Visitors then approached

the Parthenon itself from its northwest corner and were directed along the entire length of the

North-facing side of the building before coming around and entering at the East end. (fig.6) This

extremely controlled path, forcing visitors to walk around the entire building and therefore view

the entire building quite extensively cause many to assume that this intentionality of planning a

visitor’s experience means that the frieze is also meant to be seen as intensively. However, while

the intentionality of this route planning is apparent, there could be more to its relationship with

the viewing of the frieze.

While the Parthenon can be seen clearly from a great distance in the city of Athens, it is

still undeniable that the sculptural elements of the frieze cannot be seen as clearly close up as the

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building as a whole can be seen from a distance. In this case, just because one is meant to get a

good view of the entire building in some ways does not mean one is meant to understand it fully.

The clear view of the Parthenon from a distance does not allow an understanding of the building

at all. On the contrary, it further enforces the limited viewing mentioned previously because

while it entices viewers from far away, we have seen time and again that a viewer’s ability to

understand the details of the frieze upon closer inspection, even while walking on the planned

route, is intentionally limited. Therefore, while the interest in allowing visitors to view the

Parthenon thoroughly is obvious in the original intentions of the Parthenon’s builders, this focus

on viewing could still just be to create the opportunity for the viewers to realize their limits. To

see the Parthenon from afar and assume it can be understood would be a sin against the power of

Athena and the beginnings of hubris, but upon approaching the Parthenon itself along this

prescribed route, a visitor would not be able to understand the full meaning of the building but,

on the other hand, would experience the exact opposite and become reacquainted with the fact

that mortals cannot and will not ever be permitted to rise to the level of understanding which is

reserved only for the Gods themselves.

Conclusions

If we assume that the Parthenon was therefore not only not meant to be seen by just

mortals but also to be seen by immortals, the issue of visibility as it has been traditionally

understood becomes completely unnecessary. To a modern researcher, the suggestion that an

object traditionally seen as a piece of “art” was not actually meant to be seen by humans nor was

it meant to convey a specific message through its physical aspects seems incomprehensible and

even disappointing since these physical remains of the structure are all we are left with today.

The idea that we cannot discern an object’s full meaning just by looking at it is, in some ways, an

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unfortunate conclusion because it means that we may never know the true meaning of objects

since texts and original intentions are lost to us. However it is our own expectation that all

answers await us through a simple visual analysis of any object which has obscured other

possibilities for so long.

By examining the Parthenon not only as a monument made for humans but instead as

something made for the gods, we can see how the lack of visibility of the frieze can be

intentional. We can find examples of this tension between viewer and un-viewable object in

other sites, both cross-culturally and within Greek art. Finally, by considering the Parthenon as,

above all else, a gift to Athena, we can see why it was important for Greeks to offer their Gods

exclusive gifts meant only for them, so as not to be guilty of hubris and to maintain the favor of

their immortal patrons.

While discussion of the frieze’s imagery in great deal has been omitted thus far for

obvious reasons, Marconi includes an interesting and valuable example of this theory of visibility

and invisibility on the Parthenon itself which quite succinctly sums up this argument. This is one

of the most visible scenes, that of the peplos being folded after the Panathenaic ceremony on the

Eastern frieze (fig.7). While the peplos itself was commonly regarded as a great treasure to be

kept visible to every viewer at all times, in this case it is not and is instead being removed and

given to Athena. Therefore, this scene is not focused on the clear, monumental display of this

important symbol but instead is focused on its removal from the viewer’s sight. Here then, we

see the peplos on the edge between visibility and invisibility and, just like the rest of the frieze,

between seen and unseen.14

14

Marconi, “Degrees of Visibility,” 173.

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Bibliography

Ashmole, B. Architect and Sculptor in Classical Greece. London: 1972.

Barringer, J. “The Temple of Zues at Olympia: Heroes and Atheletes.” Hesperia 74 (2005): 211-

241.

Brilliant, Richard. “The Column of Trajan and Its Heirs: Helical Tails, Ambiguous Trails.” In

Visual Narratives: Storytelling in Etruscan and Roman Art, 90-123. Ithica and London:

Cornell University Press, 1984.

Feldman, Edmund B. “Visual Literacy.” Journal of Aesthetic Education 10, (July - October,

1976): 195-200.

Lawrence, A.W. Greek and Roman Sculpture. London: 1972.

Marconi, Clemente. “The Parthenon Frieze: Degrees of Visibility.” Anthropology and Aesthetics

55/56 (Spring/Autumn 2009): 156-173.

Martin-Mcauliffe, S.L. and J.K. Papadoploulos. “Framing Victoty: Salamis, The Athenian

Acropolis, and the Agora.” Journal of the Society of Achitectural Historians 71 (2012):

332-361.

Moore, Jerry D. editor. Visions of Culture: An Annotated Reader. New York: Alta Mira Press,

Division of Rowman & Littlefield, 2009.

Neer, R. “The Athenian Treasury at Delphi and the Material of Politics.” Classical Antiquity 23

(2004): 63-93.

Neils, J. “Reconfiguring the Gods on the Parthenon Frieze.” Art Bulletin 81 (1999): 6-20.

Osborne, Robin. “The Viewing and Obscuring of the Parthenon Frieze.” The Journal of Hellenic

Studies 107 (1987): 85-105.

Pollitt, J.J. Art and Experience in Classical Greece. Cambridge 1999.

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Ridgeway, Brunilde. Fifth Century Styles in Greek Sculpture. Princeton: 1981.

Ridgway, Brunilde. “What: The Issue of Definition.” In Prayers in Stone: Greek Architectural

Sculpture, 36-73. Berkeley: 1999.

Ridgway, Brunilde. Prayers in Stone. Berkeley, Los Angeles, and London: University of

California Press, 1999.

Robertson, C.M. The Parthenon Frieze. London: 1975.

Stokstad, Marilyn and Michael W. Cothren. Ancient Art. New Jersey: Pearson, 2014.

Veyne, P. “Conduct Without Belief and Works of Art Without Viewers.” Diogenes 143 (1988):

1-22.

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Fig.1. Diagram of the Parthenon, Athens, Greece, 438 B.C.E.

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Fig.2. Column of Trajan, Rome, 113 A.D.

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Fig.3. Temple of Zeus, Olympia, 472-456 B.C.E.

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Fig.4. Athenian Treasury, Delphi, 510-480 B.C.E.

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Fig.5. Marble Votive Relief Fragment of goddesses, mother, nurse, infant, late 5th

c. B.C.E. (The

Metropolitan Museum of Art)

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Fig.6. Plan of Parthenon and Possible Route of Visitors, Athens, Greece, 438 B.C.E.

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Fig.7. Central Scene of the East Frieze of the Parthenon, Athens, 438-432 B.C.E. (The British

Museum)