Does the arch of Constantine mark a point of decline in Roman Art?

The Arch of Constantine was constructed by the senate and people of Rome in honour of the emperor
Constantine (272 – 337 AD). At 21 metres tall and 26 metres wide, the arch is the largest surviving
example in Rome. In the 4th century it would have imposed itself over the road between the colosseum
and circus maximus, the latter a Constantine-funded renovation project. The stone sculptures and
friezes on the arch have proven particularly enigmatic for scholars, as they feature art from the reigns
of emperors Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and Marcus Aurelius. Where the emperor has been
depicted in this art, their face has been re-carved to show Constantine’s in a process reflecting that of
damnatio memoriae. While this second and third century art has often been regarded as pristine
examples of the humanistic and realistic Graeco-Roman style, in contrast, the monument also features
novel 4th century Constantinian carvings that have been described as clunky, flat, and undetailed.
Thus, scholars studying the nature of this monument have often deemed it a point of decline in Roman
art; the artisans of the age clearly lacking the skills to carved idealised Graeco-Roman sculpture, and
thus they have pilfered other, ‘better’, monuments to create this ragtag amalgamation of styles.
However, this scenario may in fact be much more complicated. We must remember that these
opinions arose in 19th and 20th century academies which deemed ancient Greek art to be the most ideal
type, among scholars unaware of their own modern biases about copying or imitating art being worse
than the original. These were opinions not shared by the Romans, they had their own artistic
standards. Therefore, in this essay I show that the inclusion of ‘bad’ art with ‘good’ art on the Arch of
Constantine did not signal the decline of Roman art, but was an intentional design choice.
The arch features a variety of earlier art. The main attic panels match other reliefs of Marcus Aurelius.
Here the emperor is addressing troops, performing a purificatory sacrifice, and showing clemency to
defeated barbarians, yet his face has been replaced with Constantine’s. The tondi of the north and
south facades are Hadrainic, depicting the emperor hunting with companions, piously sacrificing to
gods while he does so. The statues of captures barbarians are Trajanic, depicting Dacians similar in
appearance to sculptures of Trajan’s forum. Furthermore, large relief panels depicting the emperor in
battle have been taken from the Great Trajanic Frieze and applied to the sides of the arch’s central
passageway and the ends of the attic. Though scholars have interpreted this pilfering negatively,
arguing that it speaks to the degraded artistic ability of 4th century Rome, such practices were already
well established. The use of ‘spolia’, or the recycling of artistic or architectural features from old
monuments to be used in new ones, was established in 3rd century Rome while Graeco-Roman artistic
skilfulness was still readily observable in art. Therefore, the reuse of spolia does not necessarily
equate to a decline in artistic skills or standards; by the 4 th century it was likely that Roman audiences
were used to the reuse of spolia, such practices becoming incorporated into artistic standards and
offering another method employed in the construction of Roman monuments. We must remember that
such an audience were unburdened by our modern biases about artistic stealing or copying, this use of
spolia not becoming a turning point, rather, it was a continuation.
Multiple scholars have argued that this spolia was not pilfered out of necessity but was actually an
effective design choice. Constantine was a usurper, defeating Maxentius in the civil war of 312 AD to
gain control of Italy. Thus, even though Roman audiences likely would have recognised that much of
the arch’s art was that of previous emperors, by clothing Constantine “in their virtually mythologised
deeds” (Elsner 2000) the tyrannical outsider is transformed into the rightful ruler, one who upholds
the values that make a good emperor. Elsner also highlights that the Roman audience would be used
to the practice of damnatio memoriae, the artistic replacement of past emperors’ faces with that of
their successors’. Such a practice was often performed on the art of tyrants, and therefore it implied
that the replacing emperor was better than the original. While Trajan, Hadrian, Antoninus Pius, and
Marcus Aurelius were not tyrants, their replacements with damnatio memoriae is therefore very
effective as a statement about Constantine: it says, ‘these emperors were great but Constantine will be
even greater’, the whole arch a monument to emperorship with Constantine “inserted… into a
tradition of imperial virtues” (Stewart 2004). Richardson (1975) further supports this reading of the
arch’s messages. He argues that the arch’s 4th century art does not relate to actual historical events but
are instead metaphorical of Constantine’s traits. For example, the “profectio panel is not simply the
departure of [Constantine’s] army from the Rhine frontier in 312 AD; rather it epitomises the
incessant, vigilant movement of Constantine along the northern frontiers throughout so much of his
life”. Furthermore, the city under siege shown on the obsidio panel is not Verona during the battle of
the Milvian Bridge, it represents any city and emphasises the scale of Constantine’s military victories.
We can be sure of this because the city’s defenders wear trousers and long-sleeved tunics, the
traditional representation of Rome’s enemies like barbarians or Parthians, while Maxentius’ army,
which is shown on the proelium panel, wear scale corsets. Overall, this focus on the values and
activities of a good emperor, emphasising Constantine’s through similarities to his beloved
predecessors, is a different and clever way of bringing the usurper legitimation; in the past, emperors
would gain this from art depicting their divine approval, oppositely, the Christian patron Constantine
achieves the same thing by depicting these emperors. I believe these circumstances explain why the
monument features so much spolia and lacks traditional divine depictions.
Furthermore, the arch’s 4th century Constantinian carvings should not be judged as an example of
artistic decline because they are effective, and were therefore also a choice rather than a necessity. The
Arch of Constantine was not the earliest observable instance of this two-dimensional, chunky,
stonework, as such art was common throughout the second century in public areas like Ostia’s shops
and markets (figure 1). Because of its audience, and private financing by individuals unaffiliated with
the Senate, such art has been dubbed “popular art” (Stewart 2004) and many of Rome’s lower classes
would have regularly observed it. There are two reasons why the use of popular art on the Arch of
Constantine would have been effective. Firstly, its clarity. Stewart (2004) highlights this with
reference to another example of popular art, the 300 AD porphyry sculpture of the tetrarchs now
found in St Mark’s Square, Venice. The sculpture does “not pretend to tell us anything about the
individual appearance or identity of the emperors. They eschew accurate representation of proportions
or anatomy. But they present a very vivid symbol of an unbreakable partnership: the two older
emperors embrace their youthful colleagues… they are portrayed as strong and conscientious rulers”.
Therefore, unlike Graeco-Roman art and its extreme attention to detail, scale, and realism, popular art
lacked this and instead focused on clearly making a point. When one studies the Graeco-Roman art on
the Arch of Constantine, its messaging is clearly inconsistent and contrasting; it features barbarian
prisoners, flying victories, personifications of the seasons, the sun, the moon, river gods, bear hunts,
and a portrait of Hadrian’s lover Antinous. To counteract this downside of using so much spolia, the
clear, chunky style of popular art provided easily understandable scenes that required little
interpretation. In fact, the messages popular art may have even been enhanced by its contrast with
complicated Graeco-Roman styles. Furthermore, the sheer height of the arch would have made
chunky popular art the most readable imagery from below.
 Figure 1. Popular Art ‘sign’ from a 4th century poultry shop in Ostia

The second reason popular art was an effective choice for the arch was its Christian connotations. At
the beginning of the 4th century, multiple self-consciously foreign cults like Christianity began to gain
popularity throughout the empire. These cults had “a much more exotic identity and this… brought
them popularity” (Stewart 2004), emerging from the outskirts of the empire where this popular art
would have been the most visible type. Therefore, “as the ruling class of Rome was transformed, so
was the prevailing taste for art” (Bandinelli ????), and its likely that the connotations of this popular
art would have related to these new cults. Therefore, the striking contrast between old and new art
styles would have highlighted Constantine’s appreciation for traditional values, and new religious
systems that do not only deem the wealthiest elite individuals to be spiritually valuable but claimed
that even the poorest was worthy of salvation. Thus, Constantine becomes ‘the man of the people’,
and different to many past emperors who presented themselves in a godlike way. Contextually, there
was much reason for the Senate to construct the monument in this way. Though the arch’s
construction date is often deemed to be 315 AD (Constantine’s decenalia in Rome), Richardson
(1975) argues that 326 AD (his vicennalia) could also be a plausible date, as only two years after the
civil war with Maxentius would be too recent and inappropriate to celebrate Constantine’s slaughter
of Roman citizens. The later construction date of 326 AD would explain the arch’s design. The Roman
senate would have been aware of Constantine’s plan to make Byzantium his new capital, so the
flattery of a man who treated Rome “with cool reserve approaching indifference” (ibid), one who
patronised foreign cults and felt most comfortable in the eastern provinces of Naissus or Nicomedia,
would require a particularly outstanding monument that emphasised these themes and praised his
differences. Therefore, it is clear that art on the Arch of Constantine which has been deemed
degenerative and ‘bad’, can equally be viewed as very effective and not a point of decline.
Finally, it is deeply problematic and reductionist to view single monuments like the Arch of
Constantine as a marker for the decline of Roman art, or the beginning of Medieval art. As Trilling
(1987) highlights, Popular and more realistic Graeco-Roman art are not extremely distinct; while
popular art “reduce[s] physical reality to a schematic design, this does not mean rejecting that reality,
only rejecting the need to convey it comprehensively and explicitly”. Essentially for both art styles
“the nature of the experience remains the same”. Furthermore, many 4 th century artifacts show the
persistence of exemplary Graeco-Roman art styles into the Christian age. The Great Dish of the
Mildenhall Treasure hoard, made in 410 AD but found in Suffolk, 1942, is a prime example of this.
The silver dish is exquisitely crafted, centrally depicting Oceanus surrounded by sea nymphs, while
deities like Dionysus and a drunken Hercules feature around the border. A similar example is the
fourteen plates of the Seuso Treasures, a hoard of silver objects dated to the 4 th century and found in
Lebanon. These plates depicted images of classical heroes like Achilles and Meleager. The presence
of the Mildenhall Great Dish and the Seuso Treasures in provinces distant from Rome highlight the
continuation of Roman artistic values throughout the 4th century empire. Wealthy individuals could
still acquire exquisite items for use in leisurable activities like feasting, and references to the pleasures
of Dionysus or didactic stories of classical heroes was still deemed appropriate imagery. In this way,
not much had changed with Roman art since the construction of the Arch of Constantine, to call this a
“decline” would certainly seem a stretch. Yet interestingly all of these silver artifacts feature the Chi
Rho Christogram, highlighting that its owners were Christian, and that the advent of Christianity had
preserved Roman art rather than causing its decline. Instead, Roman art was Christianised. Many early
depictions of individuals like Noah, Daniel, and Lazarus, are drawn from pagan models, for example,
“Jonah is shown resting under a gourd tree in exactly the pose of the sleeping Endymion” (Stewart
2004). Early depictions of Christ incorporate him into Roman imagery, showing him as a young
Graeco-Roman gentleman, or as a long-haired, fresh-faced god in the image of Apollo. Alternatively,
images of Christ in the 4th century Santa Pudenziana are descended from traditional images of gods
like Jupiter. Zanker has even argued that images of the unkempt Christ are reflections of artistic
depictions of a type of Greek philosopher known for performing miracles and dispensing wisdom. It
is easy to recognise similarities between these two figures. Finally, images of the haloed infant
Dionysus sat on the lap of Hermes, such as those seen in the mosaics at the House of Aion in Cyprus,
are remarkably similar to later depictions of Christ on the lap of Mary. These examples highlight that
art does not simply “decline” or die out, it either continues among a smaller group or changes through
processes of amalgamation into new artistic styles. What is observed on the Arch of Constantine is not
the decline of Roman art, it is the beginning of a new Roman art style; one that incorporates and
adapts Roman artistic traditions and slowly changes them through the depiction of new subjects.
Throughout this essay I have challenged the notion that the Arch of Constantine is a marker for the
decline of Roman art. To do this I have highlighted how its use of spolia and damnatio memoriae
effectively praised Constantine, rather than this being pilfering suggestive of a lack of artistic talent in
Rome. Secondly, I have emphasised the effectiveness of the Popular art on the arch, describing the
messages it conveyed about the emperor. Finally, I have shown that Roman art did not decline but
persisted throughout the Christian empire. With this in mind, I would hesitate to deem the Arch of
Constantine marks any changing point in art. The Romans always utilised monuments as propaganda,
of which it is effective example. It does show two art in two different styles, but it not a marker that
one has overthrown the other, such an opinion has proven a reductionist view of gradual artistic
changes. Ultimately, I believe such a notion to be pregnant with 19th and 20th century academic biases,
promoting ignorance about novel Roman invention. In other words, the monument ‘looks less Greek’,
the eternal ideal, and therefore 4th century Rome must have suffered artistic decline.