N. 8 – 2009 – Memorie//Africa-Romana
Universitas Helsingiensis, Helsinki*
Some Observations on the Authorship
of Building Inscriptions
(pubblicato in L’Africa romana. Le ricchezze dell’Africa. Risorse,
produzioni, scambi. Atti del XVII convegno di studio. Sevilla, 14-17 dicembre
2006, a cura di J. González, P. Ruggeri, C. Vismara, R. Zucca, Roma,
Carocci editore, 2008, I, pp. 237-252)
Sommario: 1. Introduction. – 2. Direct references to the authorship of
inscriptions in ancient sources. – 3.
Authors suggested in earlier scholarship.
– 4. Epigraphic clues. – 5. Conclusions.
1. – Introduction
Though ancient sources do not provide a great deal of information on how
Romans manufactured their inscriptions, the persistent work of many great
scholars that has continued for about a century and half[1]
has enabled us to reconstruct the general course of the inscription-producing
process[2].
The greatest step forward was taken by Mallon who demonstrated that this
process consisted of three parts: 1) the drafting of the text to be inscribed;
2) the ordinatio[3]
or transfer of that text onto the stone surface; 3) the actual carving[4].
Subsequent criticism has shown, however, that Mallon’s [p. 238] theory
– basically sound as it is – can not be generalised to cover all
possible manufacturing processes[5].
More importantly, perhaps, there are many questions that still remain open.
Here I will focus on the first stage in the genesis of inscriptions, the
drafting of the text to be carved, because it seems to be veiled by a
particularly thick fog of uncertainties. It is revealing that we do not possess
any certain example of a draft[6]
that has been postulated to have been used – either always[7]
or at least in more ambitious cases[8]
– as a basis of the carved text[9].
As for the [p. 239] wording of this presumed draft, Cagnat proved a long time
ago that stonecutters must have had at their disposal phrase books or manuals
that were widely used to formulate simpler inscriptions[10].
Susini went even further by stating that funerary inscriptions were often
completely composed by the workers of a given officina and the role of the customer was confined to giving basic
facts to be presented according to common epigraphic conventions[11].
While one has little reason to doubt that such manuals were indeed widely
employed to create stereotyped funerary inscriptions[12],
there is also ample evidence for the opposite: many people brought with them a
copy of the text to be carved – composed by themselves, or perhaps
personally ordered from poets[13].
[p. 240] Thus, the situation is clear: the stereotyped, formulaic
majority of funerary inscriptions were worded by the lapicidae while the relatively few original and innovative epitaphs
were created outside workshops by various persons: by customers, poets, etc.
Nevertheless, funerary inscriptions do not only form the bulk of Latin stone
inscriptions[14],
but their production process also differed so much from that of other
inscription types of more public character that the question of the authorship
needs to be reconsidered[15].
In this article, my purpose is to discuss the authorship of privately
funded building inscriptions. I must warn the reader at the outset that, due to
the indirect nature of the evidence, my considerations are mostly based on
logical reasoning and as such they are bound to remain as hypotheses that can
hopefully be proved or disproved one day. Nevertheless, ancient sources being
so meagre, the only way to say something about the possible authorship of
building inscriptions is to deduce it from the building inscriptions themselves
taken into account en masse[16].
In order to use a [p. 241] reasonably limited sample, I have confined my
analysis to North African material[17].
2. – Direct references
to the authorship of inscriptions in ancient sources
In Latin literature, there are some references to building inscriptions,
but, to the best of my knowledge, none of these references unequivocally name
the person or persons who composed the draft of the inscription[18].
The building inscriptions themselves seem – at first glance – to be
a slightly more informative source as there are two North African building
inscriptions that record the name of a scriptor.
The older one reads: Scripsit Satur
Celeris f(ilius)[19]
and the more modern one: T(itus)
Fl(avius) [---]atus scripsi[t][20].
Though [p. 242] Lepelley thought that
in the latter example «le rédacteur de l’inscription a
jugé bon de donner son nom; il s’agissait d’un
secrétaire municipal (scriba
ou exceptor), non du lapicide»[21] I tend to think that the verb scribere refers to a stonecarver in both texts. This seems likely
because both these inscriptions include elements that are typical of either
Punic or Libyan building inscriptions but not of Latin ones (mentioning several
groups of people participating in the building process, for instance) and
recording the stonemasons fits that tradition[22].
Be that as it may[23],
it is obvious that not much can be gained just by reading the sources, whether
literary or epigraphic. In the next section, we shall see how scholars have
dealt with the problem of the authorship.
3. – Authors suggested
in earlier scholarship
The people who drafted building inscriptions presumably formed a
heterogeneous group. Accordingly, scholars have regarded persons of quite
different status as executors of this task. Gast, who mainly analysed Republican
building inscriptions found in Italy, suggested that publicly funded building
projects were commemorated by inscriptions based on notes written by
magistrates who supervised the given project[24].
Pobjoy, who likewise studied building inscriptions [p. 243] in Republican
Italy, thought that those magistrates themselves composed the text in question[25].
One can suppose a fortiori[26]
that when it was a private person who paid for a building project of public
utility, he also often composed the text advertising his benefaction[27].
It was certainly in his interests to pay attention as to how his financial
sacrifices – often considerable sacrifices – were advertised to the
public[28].
How close this attention might sometimes have been is revealed by the story in
Gellius where Pompey is meditating on the correct wording for the building
inscription to be fixed on his theatre at Rome. Because Pompey was not quite
sure whether one should say consul
tertium or tertio, after
consulting the most learned men in the city, he decided to follow
Cicero’s advice and to have it carved in an abbreviated form[29].
The presumption that a private builder could, at least sometimes, compose the
text all by himself gets some support from inscriptions themselves since there
are some so originally formulated texts that they must have been worded by the
rather ignorant benefactor himself[30].
[p. 244] Originality alone, however, is no proof that the text was
worded by a private euergetes. On the
contrary, it has been suggested that when a text is both original and showing
some literary pretensions, it was quite possibly composed by a local teacher of
grammar and literature[31].
One can find examples of the tituli
of this type especially in Late Antiquity, when the rules regulating the
diction of building inscriptions were significantly relaxed[32].
The last alternative mentioned by scholars is that the local ordo decurionum could have either
composed the text recording a private benefaction or specified its wording[33].
This seems unusual, however. We do have Italian honorary inscriptions where the
wording is fixed by the local ordo[34],
but there are few references to privately funded building inscriptions being
worded by the local [p. 245] senate[35].
Moreover, Pobjoy thought that even publicly funded projects were commemorated
by building inscriptions worded by supervising officials and wrote:
A local senate could of course dictate what was to be
inscribed on a public building, just as it could if it wished pass decrees
which ordered their own publication [...]. But the building inscriptions [...]
give no indication that they are formally sanctioned documents, and it is far
more likely that the officials had the choice whether to put such an
inscription on the building or not, and also had the choice of how to word it[36].
These three, i.e., private benefactors themselves, local grammatici and local senates are then
the bodies that have been presented in modern scholarship as potential writers
of the drafts of privately funded building inscriptions. In the next section,
we shall see if considering the essential features of the bulk of
buildinginscriptions could cast any light on the authorship question.
4. – Epigraphic clues
Many scholars have thought that the epigraphic products that are carved
on stone can be roughly divided into two groups. The groups are of very uneven
size: the overwhelmingly larger one includes stereotyped, mass-produced
funerary inscriptions the wording of which was done in officina while the remaining much smaller group contains more
ambitious and more original texts that were drafted outside the workshop[37].
This undoubtedly correct [p. 246] picture can be nuanced, however. In fact,
between these two groups there is an intermediary one which includes
inscriptions that are probably individually composed but still quite
stereotyped and formulaic.
In addition to more or less original texts there are many building
inscriptions, especially during the Principate, that use fixed phrases and
restricted vocabulary (Fagan appositely termed it «quasi-technical
jargon»[38])
and observe rigid structural patterns[39].
Let us compare three simple third century building inscriptions. The first one
is from Muzuc:
Merc(urio) Aug(usto)
sac(rum). / Pro salute{m} Impp(eratorum) / Caess(arum) L(uci) Septimi Se/veri
Pertinacis / [Au]g(usti) Arabici Adia/ benici p(atris) p(atriae) et
Imp(eratoris) Ca[es(aris)] / M(arci) Aureli Anton[i]/ni Aug(usti) C(aius)
Iulius Glau/cus aedem [[[---]PRIM]] / sua p(ecunia) f(ecit)[40].
The second one was found in Thala:
Caelesti Aug(ustae)
/ sacrum / P(ublius) Gemi[ni]us / Martialis / anno flam(oni) / sui porticum /
columnatam cu[m] / gradib(us) VII d(e) s(uo) [f(ecit)] / curante L(ucio)
Fl(avio) Salvian[o][41].
The third example comes from Lambaesis:
Pro salute d(omini) n(ostri) A[[[ureliani]]] / invicti
Aug(usti) / Aurel(ius) Longinianus (centurio) leg(ionis) / III Aug(ustae)
princ(eps) leg(ionis) s(upra) s(criptae) / templum Invicti aere / suo a solo
fecit[42].
All these texts basically observe the same pattern: the dedication to
the gods and/or the honorific expression towards the emperor opens the text. It
is followed by the name and titles of the private builder, a description of the
monument, mention of the costs and characterization of the building process.
The use of this pattern is not confined to these three examples: one can find
it at least in [p. 247] five other third century building inscriptions that
originate from widely separated locations[43]
and a further search reveals more groups of geographically scattered building
inscriptions, each of which employs one common pattern[44].
This observation is consistent with results obtained when I examined African
building inscriptions in order to find out how uniform their style was. It
became apparent that many building inscriptions followed the same general
province-wide trends that developed over time[45].
On the other hand, though their wording is conventional (all, for
example, seem to use the same predicate, fecit)
it is by no means identical. For instance, all of them employ a different
phrase to refer to building costs. The text from Lambaesis is the only one to emphasize that the building process
was carried out from the foundations (a
solo). Only the inscription from Thala
refers to the curator of the work and
it also qualifies the object by the adjective columnatus that does not appear in the other two examples or in the
African material as a whole[46].
What conclusions, if any, can be drawn from these features? [p. 248]
First, it is obvious that even the most stereotyped building inscriptions were
not drafted by the method that was commonly used in the wording of funerary
inscriptions, i.e., by filling in the blanks of a template or form with the
information provided by the customer[47].
Second, it seems unlikely to me that stonecutters would have often composed the
drafts for building inscriptions as they did compose many funerary
inscriptions, i.e., by putting the basic facts offered by private euergetai into the suitable epigraphic
form.
If lapicidae alone decided the
wording, the result would have been as monotonous as funerary inscriptions even
if no templates were in use. Though there are, as I stated above, many
inscriptions that follow similar patterns, there are always subtle differences
in the vocabulary or in the word order (except in gemellae, of course).
On the other hand, however, there is no denying that many building
inscriptions are monotonous and
stereotyped and form a rather uniform mass. Was it so because there were
generally accepted rules on how to compose building inscriptions and most
private benefactors were aware of these rules and composed their inscriptions
accordingly? This is entirely possible. To take a modern parallel, death
announcements are quite formal and stereotyped in Finnish newspapers.
Practically everyone knows how such a notice should properly be written though
few of us have received instructions on the strict rules regulating this genre.
On the other hand, if someone needs advice on their wording, it can be obtained
from the editorial staff of the given newspaper who also ensure the propriety
of the announcement.
To return to ancient building inscriptions, I think that the situation
must have resembled that existing in the composition of modern death
announcements. Undoubtedly, many customers had a draft ready when they came to
the stonemason’s shop; but it is reasonable to suppose that some wanted
assistance. For such a customer, there was help at hand in the officina: he or she might have been
given a manual to help to word the draft or a seasoned ordinator could have made suggestions based on his own experience[48].
If manuals existed, they must have listed many variants out [p. 249] of which
the composer of the inscription selected what pleased him or her. It is obvious
that if this kind of consultation did take place, it tended to favour the
stereotypicality and uniformity in building inscriptions: the customers’
natural propensity towards individualism and innovation was restricted to a
certain extent by the stonecutters’ inclination to follow traditional
forms, formulae and expressions. When one thinks how uniform building
inscriptions are, it seems difficult not to accept that this uniformity was
partly due to lapicidae who upheld
the tradition of producing building inscriptions.
While it is impossible to say how much restrictive influence
stonecutters might have had, the contribution of a customer to the general
development of style is easier to characterise: it was due to the wishes of the
customer that even most monotonous building inscriptions show individual
traits; it was also exactly these wishes and needs of a customer that carried
forward the development of the inscriptional style[49].
To take just one example: the appearance, the gradual growth in numbers and the
eventual disappearance of expressions related to building promises and their
redeeming during the second and third centuries AD reflect the demands of the
municipal nobles who first tried to use them to strengthen their propaganda in
the tightening competition for status and municipal posts and then left these
details out as the competition ceased[50].
Perhaps we can go further. It does not seem impossible to me that the
personnel of a given officina could
have sketched some of the most stereotyped building inscriptions, or, at least,
some of the most stereotyped parts of the inscriptions by themselves. Imperial
titulature especially comes to mind. Because it was an essential part of most
building inscriptions but had a little value as personal propaganda, it must
have been viewed by many euergetai as
a tedious formality. Why would have they taken the trouble to tinker with long
titulatures – they were sometimes over 50 words long[51]
[p. 250] – if they could have leave it to the personnel of the workshop
to execute?
In this connection, it is perhaps useful to look how nonchalantly Pliny
the Younger asked his agent Annius Severus to select a statue base and to get
it carved and erected in a temple at Comum:
iube basim fieri, ex quo voles marmore,
quae nomen meum honoresque capiat, si hos quoque putabis addendos[52].
One has to remember, however, that the context is somewhat different[53]
here: the project is a minor one and Pliny (cos. suff. AD 100) was a major
figure in his hometown, not a municipal noble who is trying to use his gift to
win elections or to obtain other concrete political goals[54].
It is also possible that this letter might have been revised for publication[55].
It must be observed, however, that the idea of co-operation between the
client and the staff of the workshop presupposes that some workers in an officina had a higher level of education
than has often been thought. As I noted above, many eminent scholars have
maintained that anything above the level of a standard funerary inscription was
beyond the powers of a stonecutter[56].
I think that there must have been a person or persons among the personnel of a
workshop who were up to the task. Someone
in the officina must have been able
to read and write – whether the owner of the shop, or the ordinator, or someone else is not
important – and [p. 251] to sketch a stereotyped building inscription
with help of a manual does not need much beyond that[57].
In addition to being literate and informed on the standard phraseology,
the composer of a basic building inscription needed only to know how personal
names were recorded according to established onomastic conventions and how the
constantly evolving titulatures of the ruling emperors (an essential part of
most building inscriptions) were presented. Tens of thousands of funerary
inscriptions attest that onomastic conventions were common knowledge among lapicidae; as for the latter, there must
have been an official bulletin of some sort publicly available (for instance,
at the curia) where one could check
what were the current titles of the ruling emperor. It is worth stressing that
that source was necessary to both a private person (when he wanted to compose
the text all by himself) and a
foreman of the workshop (when he participated in the composition of an
inscription)[58].
Thus, it is not necessary to believe that the customer always came to
the stonemason’s shop with a ready draft. An alternative procedure might
have been as follows: a customer came to the shop, and, if his wishes were not
clear, discussed some individual phrases or possibly consulted a manual. After
giving the essential information about the building project, he either
mentioned key phrases and the points he wanted to emphasize[59]
or wrote or dictated the core part of the text. After this phase, the personnel
[p. 252] produced a preliminary draft complete with all technical niceties and
showed it to the customer. If he accepted it, the actual carving process could
start.
5. – Conclusions
Because the ancient sources do not describe epigraphic production
processes in detail, and because the specific historical circumstances under
which each inscription was carved always elude us, it is impossible to state
with confidence who worded any given building inscription. Nonetheless,
something can be deduced from the inscriptions themselves. It is obvious that
the circumstances under which building inscriptions were produced varied
greatly from one case to another. Previous scholars have suggested that a
private building inscription could have been worded by the builder himself, by
a local grammarian or by the local senate. These suggestions are entirely
credible, but I think that another alternative could be added. The formality
and rigid stereotypicality of many building inscriptions on the one hand and
the subtle but omnipresent individual traits on the other, point to a
conclusion that the wording of the draft of many standard building inscriptions
was a result of collaboration between the customer and the personnel of the
workshop.