Chapter 3 uses a rich array of archival evidence to reconstruct the lived experience of Francesco Pisani, his family, and his household at Villa Pisani. The architecture and decoration of Villa Pisani framed agricultural business, sociability, and even religious devotion, not only during the traditional season of villeggiatura (country living) but throughout the year.

The fifth chapter covers the broad span of prose and poetic Latin literature that intends to instruct. But didactic works are never simply technical: even those that seem clunky to us were written with an eye to style, at least in parts. On the other hand, some of those that seem purely ornamental have in fact been found genuinely useful by some readers. We discuss the genre’s origins in Greek literature, and explore primary prose and poetic exemplars: Cato, Varro, Cicero, Lucretius, Vergil and Ovid.

In several works and passages, Galen reports on the model of the heart as developed by Erasistratus. Already in 1995 (published in 1997), Heinrich von Staden pointed to the parallel between Erasistratus’ model and the force pump. This technical device, which belongs to the technical apparatus developed in the frame of ancient water-supply systems, was indeed codified in textual and probably even diagrammatic form for the first time by the contemporary Ctesibius during the third century. This chapter first revisits Galen’s reports to define Erasistratus’ model of the heart technically and precisely. Subsequently, it analyzes a series of ancient works and fragments from the Hellenistic period until the second century to establish the extent to which such parallelisms are historically justified on the level of the scientific reflections of the time. In the background, the analysis of archeological findings of periods are considered to show that, contrary to what is usually assumed, the realm of practical activities and engineering might have been strongly influenced by the anatomic knowledge of antiquity.

The power of place to stir memory was well-known in antiquity, and is exemplified by a speech Cicero places in the mouth of Piso in de Finibus (On Ends). Piso reflects on the Athenian cityscape, and remarks on the capacity of places and the memory associated with them to stir emotion even more strongly than hearing or reading.1 Accordingly, the role of monuments and buildings in Republican memory has been the focus of a good deal of recent scholarship.2 Nor was the mnemonic potential of buildings lost on the princeps himself: as recent work by Eric Orlin and others has shown, architecture played an important role in the Augustan regime, shaping memories of recent events, and stimulating remembrance of a more distant past.3 Examples include the temple of Apollo on the Palatine and the new constructions on the Capitoline (treated elsewhere in this volume), as well as the Forum Augustum, with its statues of Republican notables (the summi viri) evoking a particular model of Roman history.

In the past, architectural change in Archaic Greece was often explained as a somehow natural, coherent evolution from “primitive” wooden structures to sophisticated stone temples. Following the ancient writer Vitruvius, modern authors have attempted to demonstrate that the architectural orders, in particular the Doric, can be traced back to functional necessities typical of wooden buildings. While this explanation of the Doric order has long been questioned, few attempts have been made to explore alternative explanations. The chapter lays out a methodology to analyze architectural change by asking how the experience of sacred spaces and landscapes changed and who were the social groups interested in promoting such change. The chapter highlights the kinetic and multisensorial dimension of the experience of space and architecture, as stressed also by authors from other fields. Further, a survey of recent contributions to the study of the Doric and Ionic orders suggests that they emerged suddenly in the early sixth century BC, rather than evolving slowly over centuries. The emergence of the Doric order went hand in hand with the emergence of architectural sculpture on pediments and friezes. By looking at a series of case studies the book aims to shed light on the relation between the various transformation processes.

This chapter described in detail the nature of Second Style Roman frescoes. It details the aesthetic and psychological impact such works must had exercised upon viewers. It provides examples, analysed in depth, of how often complex and subtle depictions of imaginary architecture were used to create a highly theatricalised ambience. It details the role of theatrical practice and example which may be identified in such painting and how the evidence for this can be seen reflected in both their design and meaning.

This chapter discusses how the layout and organisation of the ancient Roman house comprised a veritable Mise-en-scène in which both patrons and guests expressed and were conditioned by a culture and aesthetic practices in which the theatre was a dominant influence. It analyses the spatial and decorative organisation of Roman domestic spaces, and describes how these created an intensely theatricalised ambience which directly impacted upon and was reflected in the behaviour of both patrons and guests.

When 19th-century excavators uncovered domestic buildings at classical Greek urban sites, they also uncovered a problem: words and walls did not match. The clash between sources led to a clash between scholars. This chapter explores the origin of this perceived gap between words and walls and shows that it is the result of clashing philosophies, rather than faulty sources. Discussions of ancient Greek houses began in 16th-century Italy, at a time when no Greek houses were available to study. Scholars created their own plans, drawing on ancient texts and surviving Roman remains. Their designs were intended to facilitate philosophical discussions, not to rebuild the past. In contrast, archaeologists wanted to rebuild. They needed labels to describe the buildings they had found. They mined ancient texts to create a terminology for domestic spaces and features. Inevitably, text and archaeology did not match. It is time to step away from the gap and re-evaluate our approach to investigating ancient houses. Through a re-examination of evidence for 4th-century BCE Athenian houses in texts and material remains, this chapter demonstrates how different ancient sources can work in parallel to advance knowledge of domestic life in the ancient Greek city.

Why would a fourth-century BC Atomist – Anaxarchus – express his scepticism about knowing the truth of things by imaging these as scene-painting? The comparison seems already to have been made by Democritus and Anaxagoras, who according to Vitruvius had been impressed by something an Athenian painter named Agatharchus had written on perspective. This chapter offers a detailed scrutiny of a range of texts that have a bearing on the interpretation of Vitruvius’ claim. It argues that Agatharchus was probably author of a pioneering treatise on stage-building, which included a section on scene-painting lauding its power to create the illusion of a whole three-dimensional world. Anaxagoras will have taken this claim as cue for his dictum: ‘Appearances are a sight of things unseen’ – in the sense that there is no break between the macroscopic world of ordinary observation and the microscopic world which explains it. The Atomist Democritus will no doubt have imparted a quite different spin to Anaxagoras’ slogan in praising it. But it is unlikely that either Presocratic was prompted to a mathematical interest in perspective by reading Agatharchus. It is only with the Hellenistic philosophers, and especially Epicurus, that optics begins to leave its trace on general epistemology.

This chapter shows how Vitruvius developed his three fundamental categories within a naturalistic and empiricist conception of human life and perception. In the Renaissance, Leon Battista Alberti and Andrea Palladio, inspired by Neo-Platonism, took a more rationalistic, mathematical approach to beauty in their theories and their buildings. In the eighteenth century, the Scottish philosopher Lord Kames returned to Vitruvius's empiricist approach, while the French theorist Marc-Antoine Laugier, inspired by the aesthetic theory of Charles Batteux, identified beauty with the imitation of nature, but specifically with the identification of beauty with structural functionality.

Florentines saw their excellence in visual arts as part of their identity. Giorgio Vasari encouraged many colleagues to think seriously about the study of the arts by seeking collaboration for the two editions of his monumental work Lives of the Artists. Borghini, Giambullari, Bartoli, and many others assisted in gathering information; Borghini in particular was involved in composing the sections on periodization. It resembled the narrative on language; the term “ancient” was relevant until late antiquity. The rise of the new tradition had its earliest origins in the eleventh century. It blossomed in the age of Giotto, a narrative that already had a tradition of its own. Innovation in the arts was driven, they argued, by the artist’s drive to compete and to excel. Artistic traditions themselves, like language, could be compared to a living being with a natural lifespan. Florentines founded an academy for artists, the Accademia del Disegno; its first collective task was the memorial service for Michelangelo.

The New Testament Letter to the Ephesians hypostatizes the church’s qualities of unity into those of a bounded, ideal human body and building. As both a temple and a heavenly Colossus, the church has a vast architectural interior equal to divine grandeur reaching up to the same dominating heights of Christ’s own enthronement in heaven. This chapter examines how this architectural ekphrasis participated in aesthetics shared by many authors in Roman literary culture to turn buildings into stories in the final decades of the first century. In this period of cultural change, narratives about buildings shifted from an architecture of tyranny to encomiastic memorials of divine benefaction, unity and power associating grand architecture and the ideal human body. Attention to Roman architectural ekphrasis in Ephesians thus makes the mixed metaphor in Ephesians intelligible. It also offers a solution to an interpretative crux in the text previously considered insoluble. In these ways, therefore, this chapter rethinks the question of early Christian intertextuality as one of connectivity, examining the parallels as products of shared responses among discrete reading communities to Roman cityscapes.

The reigns of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian are notable both for the technical and aesthetic developments in architecture, as well as the significant amount of building work undertaken in Rome and across the empire. However, as far as can be determined, this activity was not accompanied by a surge of interest in architectural writing among Latin authors of the second century CE, who give little attention to such matters. This chapter aims to demonstrate that while there were shared frameworks for how Roman writers received and commented on buildings, the most important connection between them is what they do not say. This argument is developed through considering the apparent difference with Greek literature of the period, which includes conspicuously more complex discussions of buildings and attention to architectural detail. The case is made that this contrast is not due to a lack of interaction, but is rather a deliberate opposition between how Latin and Greek authors handle the subject. Arguably, this disconnection that is observable in literature also reflects the differing perceptions of architecture in the respective societies more widely.