Representations of War on an Archaic Amphora

This blog was researched and written by Visualising War and Peace student David Calder; School of Classics, University of St Andrews, October 2023. It discusses alternative readings of ancient and modern images of ‘the departing soldier’, what they can tell us about culturally dominant habits of visualising conflict, and how myths and allusions to established narratives can be used both to sanitise and critique war.


The image of the departing soldier is an enduring and universal visualisation of war, present in many eras, and across various cultures (Fig. 1 and 2 above, & 3 below).[i] The depictions of this moment in warfare focus upon the sacrifice of the soldier leaving his home and loved ones. Additionally, these images often present visualisations of the experience of war for those whom the soldiers leave behind. Versions of this image were frequently produced on Athenian vases in the late 6th and early 5th centuries, perhaps in response to the heightened conflict of the period.[ii] While certain aspects of these images may be idealizing and anachronistic,[iii] nevertheless they represent a lived experience of many families in Attica.[iv]

In this blog, I will examine an amphora from the late 6th century, found in Vulci, Italy, depicting Hercules and the Erymanthian boar on one face (Fig. 4) and a narrative of a departing soldier on the other, which is the side this essay will primarily discuss (Fig. 5). This image contains five figures which are, from left to right, an old man with a sceptre commanding a bowman who wears a peaked cap, a hoplite in full armour looking to a female figure, and rightmost a hoplite looking back on the scene as he departs to the right. The narrative of this scene is fairly clear: the king, distinguished by the sceptre, orders the two soldiers to war, and as a result the hoplite must depart from the woman, who can be read as either mother or wife.[v] As she is more of an object of grief in the scene, there is little to distinguish her and the narrative can be understood either way. Despite its apparent simplicity, this vase, like many ancient sources, is open to a variety of interpretations. By exploring this vase’s context and meaning, and comparing its imagery cross-culturally, we can seek to identify the messages of war it might present, and thereby encourage further investigation of both war and peace on Attic vases more generally.

One interpretation of the scene is that it visualises the idea of the heroic sacrifice. The centrally positioned hoplite is the focal point of the image, and his sacrifice provides the emotional conflict of the piece. The soldier’s struggle between duty and love is shown by his spear and body facing the ruler, but his head turned towards the woman. A repetition of this imagery is visible in post-Revolutionary French conscription artwork, for example the Départ de conscrit[s] by Desfeuilles of Nancy, 1818-1824,[vi] which presents a narrative of the French conscription process. The picture shows, in a reversed order, the departure and return of a conscript. Here again, the internal battle between love and duty is externally visualised through the awkward posture of facing backwards while marching forwards.[vii] This and other images of the same genre, designed to promote conscription, do not ignore the pain of separation caused by military service but instead present it as a highly positive, transformative event,[viii] and a duty to be praised in 19th century France. 

Returning to the amphora, it is unlikely that the image is representing a mythical tale, as there is neither the inscriptions nor the imagery of myths seen on some other vases.[ix] However, heroes on Attic vases are often portrayed as a hoplites, bearing the same arms.[x] By contrast, the archer’s ‘cowardly’ bow,[xi] peaked cap, and short tunic,[xii] identifies him as an easterner.[xiii] Whether he is friend or foe is unclear. Many scholars take the portrayal of eastern archers as a device by which the Hoplite is further heroised, as they identify the archer as a secondary character and a companion of heroes, who by their lower status elevate the importance of the central figure.[xiv] At the likely time of this amphora’s creation however, the Persian empire was an increasingly significant threat to the city-states of Greece. The Athenian potters may have been presenting a narrative of war in which they reflect imagery of their contemporaneous enemies. We do not see any conflict between the Hoplite and the archer— indeed the date may be too early for scenes of open hostility such as the Eurymedon vase,[xv] and the Athenians were at this point nominally at peace with the Achaemenids.[xvi] However, the image does follow the conventions of Attic vase paintings in the depiction of easterners that presents them as inferior to the ‘noble’ Greek hoplite, and thereby contributes to the othering of a potential enemy. Finally, the vase may further heroise the subject by the inclusion on the reverse side of a mythical comparison. By presenting one of Hercules’ labours it emphasises the glory to be won by performing a difficult duty, essentially suggesting that by going to war the soldier becomes a hero like Hercules.[xvii]  It is possible that Attic vases of this period display ‘recruitment’ images designed to encourage the departure to war, praising the heroic qualities of the hoplite, and presenting departure scenes as necessary to address existential threats to the state as they were in the 19th century French departure scenes. 

There is an alternative reading: the vase may have been attempting to portray a distinctly anti-war narrative, along with an anti-authoritarian message in response to the overthrow of the Peisistratids which occurred in 510 BCE. The figure of the king is presented as an old man who remains behind but sends the hoplite, in the prime of his life, away to war and potential death; if understood thus, this image potentially criticises authority and war. While the inclusion of the mythical story upon the reverse image may have a heroising effect, it may also identify the old king with Eurystheus— both are kings that send others away to do difficult tasks; and by featuring a scene where Eurystheus’ cowardice is pronounced, the vase invites this connection to be made to the otherwise anonymous king. This interpretation is further supported by the examples of two other departing hoplite vases, both suggested to also be the work of the Antimenes painter (Fig. 6).[xviii]On these images, the old man holds a staff, or walking stick, not a sceptre. In most other vases of departing soldiers the old man is understood as the father.[xix] This modification of the established figure may be a criticism of the recently deposed Hippias. Evidencing this point is difficult as only rough estimates for dates can be accepted and establishing a chronological timeline for the vases’ creation is likely impossible. However, the principal amphora under discussion here clearly represents a divergence from a common theme— it is apparently unique, at least in the oeuvre of the Antimenes painter, in its portrayal of the old man as a king. The archer may also become an Anti-Peisistratid symbol, as his inclusion may refer to the tyrannical dynasty’s use of mercenaries.[xx]

Understanding the context in which Attic vases were used in Etruria is essential to explaining how they might visualise war. This is, however, far from simple, with many very different views presented in scholarship. Some sources argue that the Attic vases were quotidian, functional objects in Etruscan society.[xxi] This may mean that they were objects that engaged in everyday militarisms, supporting a military culture by their omnipresence. Others have suggested that these vases were reserved for a specific funerary purpose.[xxii] Indeed, most Attic vases that have survived were found in Etruscan tombs, and this is especially true of those found in Vulci, where a large tomb network was excavated in the 19th century. This casts some doubt on the heroic interpretation of the vase. The vase may have been selected for its image of the departing soldier, to furnish the tomb of a soldier. If so, it strikes a stark contrast with the image of the departing conscript of 19th century France. In the latter images, the soldier always returned, greatly improved by his service,[xxiii]but the amphora presents no hint of return and has perhaps become a monument to the consequences of war with much of its nobility stripped away. If these suggestions are accepted, then it becomes far more reasonable to argue that this amphora presents a message that is both anti-authoritarian and anti-war.

The amphora also serves as an example of a wider question: whose understandings of war are being presented? By the end of the 6th century Athens, had cemented itself as a major power in the mediterranean and Athenian potters dominated their industry.[xxiv] Consequently, Attic visualisations of life and attitudes became diffused throughout the ancient world.[xxv] The perspective of Attic culture is visible in the figure of the eastern archer, which to an Etruscan must have been unfamiliar if not alien. Detailed studies of surviving artefacts show that, while the demands of the Etruscan market shaped the forms of Attic ceramics, the images presented upon them remained unaffected.[xxvi]Therefore, the imagery of war presented on vases is likely a reflection of the Athenian painter’s experiences/worldview; and so identifying the status and inspirations of vase painters is essential to understanding the visualisations of war that they present. 

Mythological stories are frequently featured on vases, including this one. Their presence indicates a familiarity with both the Homeric epics and other myths. This appears to be where the Antimenes painter has drawn much of their source material from, since many of their works feature mythological stories. As a consequence of this, his discussion of war on this vase is moralised with a mythological parallel. Therefore, the painter’s moral view of war is limited to the preexisting parallels that can be drawn on; and their visualisation of war is a reflection of already established ideas surrounding war. The role of the woman on the amphora is notably passive, she is the object of the hoplite’s attention and does not take any action further than grieving. On other departure vases, the woman often arms the departing soldier, or pours a libation,[xxvii] here the woman is simply left behind. The woman remaining behind is a common theme in most, if not all, departure images throughout history, showing the understood place of women in war, at home.[xxviii] This results in a limited view of how war affects women. There is another potentally sanitizing element, too, reflective again of dominant habits of narrating and visualizing way. By the soldier’s exit, the vase implicitly presents the idea that war is fought in some third place and neither side’s home is threatened. This links to the concept of noncombatant immunity, central to a lot of war theory, which relies on warriors avoiding harm to civilians.[xxix] Of course this is not the case in much ancient warfare, but the presentation of the war as distant and as the woman as passive results in a further heroising of the scene as the hoplite could be understood to be fighting in a ‘clean’ just war. 

By undertaking an analysis of this amphora it is possible to see that understanding departure scenes throughout history relies on understanding how the authors viewed the conflicts they present, and that involves digging into the atmospheric habits of visualizing war that surrounded (and were then reinforced) by them. In the case of Eisenstaedt’s Penn Station photographs, for example, it is almost impossible that the photographer wishes to portray an anti-war message. While the content of these photographs could be interpreted as highlighting the costs of war, given the context of Eisenstaedt’s own life,[xxx] it can be considered with some certainty that his departure images were designed to highlight the heroism and sacrifice of the departing soldiers and the necessary pain of their loved ones. With the amphora we have no such context, and as a result the message of the vase remains a mystery. Despite the apparent contradiction of the two offered interpretations, both should be considered plausible, and perhaps mutually present; we do not have to choose between one or the other. While the vase undeniably presents war in a heroic light by juxtaposing the hoplite with Hercules, and by arming the hoplite in the same manner as mythological heroes presented on other vases, the variations made by the artist suggest a less conventional reading could also be legible. Both the historical and archaeological context of the vase invite is to wonder whether the amphora is critical of the injustice of tyranny and, as an extension of this, opposed to war. A key question then follows from this is: if that is the case, what kind of power might such subtle criticism have, given that it is embedded in more conventional visuals and storytelling that traditionally sanitise and celebrate war? 

Whatever the painter’s agenda, or the interpretations of the vase’s owners/viewers, it is clear how culturally embedded their own visions, understandings and habits of visualizing war are in dominant forms of storytelling. Much of how they visualised war comes from mythological traditions and thus severely limits the nuance in which they could visualise war. Their portrayal of the woman presents a historically consistent image of women in war as passive The departing soldier is not only a common theme on Attic vases, but features throughout history. Therefore, understanding how the scene is presented on this vase and throughout history, allows the reader to analyse contemporary images of departing soldiers and understand the messages they present.


References

  • Beazley, John Davidson. “The Antimenes Painter.” The Journal of Hellenic Studies 47, no. 1 (1927): pp63-92.
  • Boardman, John. “The Greeks overseas: their early colonies and trade.” Thames and Hudson (1999).
  • Bovon, Anne. La représentation des guerriers perses et la notion de Barbare dans la première moitié du Ve siècle. In: Bulletin de correspondance hellénique. Volume 87, livraison 2, (1963):pp579-602.
  • Cooke, Miriam. Women and the war story. Univ of California Press, (1996)
  • Ciment, James, and Thaddeus Russell, eds. “The Home Front Encyclopedia: United States, Britain, and Canada in World Wars I and II.” Vol. 1. Abc-clio, (2007)
  • Gill, David WJ, and Michael J. Vickers. “They were expendable: Greek vases in the Etruscan tomb.” Revue des études anciennes 97, no. 1 (1995): pp225-249.
  • Hölscher, Tonio. “Images of War in Greece and Rome: Between Military Practice, Public Memory, and Cultural Symbolism.” The Journal of Roman Studies 93 (2003): pp1–17.
  • Hopkin, David M. “Sons and lovers: Popular images of the conscript, 1798–1870.” Modern & Contemporary France 9, no. 1 (2001): pp19-36.
  • Ivantchik, Askold. “‘Scythian’ Archers on Archaic Attic Vases: Problems of Interpretation”, Ancient Civilizations from Scythia to Siberia 12, 3-4 (2006): pp197-271
  • Matheson, Susan B.. “3. A Farewell with Arms: Departing Warriors on Athenian Vases” In Periklean Athens and Its Legacy: Problems and Perspectives edited by Judith M. Barringer and Jeffrey M. Hurwit, New York, USA: University of Texas Press, (2005): pp23-36.
  • Miller, Margaret C. Athens and Persia in the fifth century BC: a study in cultural receptivity. Cambridge University Press, (1997)
  • Osborne, Robin. “Why did Athenian pots appeal to the Etruscans?.” World Archaeology 33, no. 2 (2001): pp277-295.
  • Singor, Henk W. “The military side of the Peisistratean tyranny.” In Peisistratos and the Tyranny, Brill, (2000): pp107-129.
  • Smith, Amy. “Eurymedon and the Evolution of Political Personifications in the Early Classical Period.” The Journal of Hellenic Studies119 (1999): pp128–41.
  • Spivey, Nigel. “Greek vases in Etruria.” American Journal of Archaeology 110, no. 4 (2006): pp659-661.
  • Steiner, Ann. Reading greek vases. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, (2007)

(Fig 1): https://artuk.org/discover/artworks/the-soldiers-departure-102606

(Fig 2): https://collections.artsmia.org/art/37473/warrior-departing-for-a-battle-kobayashi-kiyochika

(Fig 3): https://www.life.com/history/true-romance-the-heartache-of-wartime-farewells-1943/

(Fig 4): https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/G_1836-0224-95

(Fig 5): https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/G_1836-0224-95

(Fig 6): https://www.britishmuseum.org/collection/object/G_1843-1103-81


[i] See George Morland’s The Soldiers Departure, Kobayashi Kiyochika’s ‘Warrior Departing for a Battle’, and Alfred Eisenstaedt’s Farewell to departing troops at New Yorks Penn Station as culturally and temporally diverse examples.

[ii] Matheson (2005) p. 23.

[iii] Ivantchick (2006) p. 201.

[iv] Matheson (2005) p. 23.

[v] Matheson (2005) p. 26.

[vi] Figured in Hopkin (2001) p. 25.

[vii] Hopkin (2001) p. 23-5.

[viii] Hopkin (2001) p. 35.

[ix] Matheson (2005) p. 26-9.

[x] Ivantchick (2006) p. 205, 202.

[xi] Hölscher (2003) p. 10.

[xii] Bovon (1963) p. 587-588.

[xiii] For an extensive discussion of the identity of similar figures often identified as Scythian, see Ivantchick (2006).

[xiv] Ivantchick (2006) p. 206.

[xv] Cf. Smith (1999).

[xvi] Sending envoys to the Persians in 507/6 BCE (Hdt. 5.73) and only deciding upon open hostility in 502/1 (Hdt 5.96) Miller (1997) p. 4.

[xvii] Steiner (2007) p. 25.

[xviii] The other not figured here is Wurzburg 103. Figured in Beazley (1927) p. 73

[xix] Matheson (2005) p. 25

[xx] Singor (2000) p.118.

[xxi] Spivey (2006) p. 660.

[xxii] Gill and Vickers (1995) p. 245.

[xxiii] Cf. Hopkin (2001).

[xxiv] Boardman (1999) p. 202.

[xxv] Barringer (2001) p. 3.

[xxvi] Cf. Osbourne (2001).

[xxvii] Matheson (2005) p. 26.

[xxviii] Cf. Cooke (1996).

[xxix] Fiala (2008) p. 53.

[xxx] Eisenstaedt and his family having fled from Nazi persecution of Jews, Ciment (2007) p. 585.