Reimagining the Past Through Colour The Role of Polychromy in Archaeological Illustration

Modern research reveals that ancient Greek statues and architecture were once vibrant with colour, challenging the long-held belief in their white marble appearance. This blog post explores how these findings impact archaeological illustration, emphasizing the importance of balancing colour with white space to represent both known details and areas of uncertainty. By acknowledging interpretive gaps, we create more honest and engaging depictions of the past.

6 min read

When we imagine the grandeur of ancient Greek civilisation, what comes to mind? For many, the vision is one of pristine white marble statues and imposing architectural facades, stripped of colour and stark against a Mediterranean sky. This image has long influenced the way we perceive classical antiquity. However, as modern research reveals the truth of ancient polychromy, we are compelled to reconsider these monochrome misconceptions and, in turn, question the methodologies used to convey archaeological reconstructions. This discussion delves deeper into the vibrant, albeit speculative, world of polychromy, linking it to the broader implications for archaeological illustration and the representation of uncertainty.

The idea that ancient Greek statuary was originally painted with vivid colours has been gaining widespread recognition, especially following the influential work of Abbe et al. (2012) and Ribeyrol (2018). The stark contrast between the serene, white statues often displayed in museums and their original colourful forms represents a fundamental shift in our understanding of the classical world. For centuries, the assumption that these statues were always meant to appear white was largely unchallenged. It is only through meticulous scientific analysis, such as the study of pigment traces on marble surfaces, that we can now piece together a more accurate picture. Figure 1 illustrates this striking contrast: the colourised interpretation of a Kore statue based on Jona Schlegel’s research work provides a vibrant depiction of how these artefacts once captivated the eye. The addition of colour to these statues does more than alter their aesthetic appeal; it invites us to engage with the past more authentically, considering the cultural and visual dynamics that ancient societies experienced.

Figure 1: Illustration of a Kore statue in its currently displayed version, white line drawing and colourised interpretation by Jona Schlegel.

But this rediscovery of colour does not only affect our understanding of statues. It also extends to ancient architecture. One of the most iconic symbols of classical antiquity, the Parthenon in Athens, was once richly adorned with vivid pigments. The Western facade of the Parthenon, immortalised in countless black-and-white photographs, presents a striking image of architectural precision and power. Yet, as recent exhibitions such as “Chroma: Ancient Sculpture in Color” have emphasised, this celebrated temple was anything but austere. Figure 2 offers a visual exploration of the Parthenon’s transformation from monochrome to multicoloured. The layered approach—moving from the photographic image to a sketched interpretation and finally to a full-colour reconstruction—demonstrates how colour dramatically alters our engagement with this monument. Such reconstructions compel us to reimagine not only the built environment of ancient Athens but also the emotional and social experiences of its people, who encountered these structures as living, breathing embodiments of cultural identity.

Figure 2: Different styles of displaying archaeological interpretations from photographs to illustrations; from left to right: Photograph of the Parthenon Western facade by Guillaume Piolle, Picture of the Parthenon Western facade by Guillaume Piolle with a sketched interpretation by Jona Schlegel, white interpretation of the Parthenon by Jona Schlegel, colourised interpretation of the Parthenon by Jona Schlegel.

As we continue to grapple with these revelations, it becomes clear that archaeological illustration must evolve to accommodate both newfound knowledge and the inherent uncertainties that accompany it. The use of white space in illustrations is not merely an aesthetic choice; it is a deliberate strategy that communicates the boundaries of our current understanding. As Banning (2020) points out, the careful application of white space can effectively highlight known details while leaving room for the unknown, thereby preserving the integrity of artefacts without overstepping interpretive boundaries. The balance between colour and void serves as a metaphor for our ongoing struggle to depict the past faithfully while acknowledging that some aspects will always remain elusive.

The role of colour in archaeological illustration is further complicated by the sensory and emotive responses it elicits. Steiner and Allason-Jones (2005) argue that colour, when applied thoughtfully, can enhance our emotional connection to the ancient world, allowing us to experience it in a way that feels more immediate and authentic. Yet, as Ávila (2012) warns, every choice of colour must be underpinned by material evidence. The task of reviving ancient polychromy is fraught with interpretive challenges; it is not a matter of mere artistic preference but rather a calculated effort to walk the line between scholarly reconstruction and artistic licence. The use of vibrant hues must be balanced with an understanding of the limitations inherent in our evidence, accepting that some choices will always carry a degree of speculation.

A useful approach to visualising these interpretive gaps comes from Sifniotis et al. (2006), who propose a method that distinguishes between elements known from physical evidence and those reconstructed based on hypotheses. This methodology brings transparency to archaeological illustration, transforming it into a form of visual education. By demarcating the known from the conjectured, we not only offer a more honest depiction of the past but also invite viewers to engage critically with the visual representations. Such an approach can enrich the narrative power of archaeological illustrations, making them not only reconstructions of bygone eras but also reflections of our ever-evolving understanding.

The implications of these choices are profound. As we uncover the polychrome reality of ancient Greek art, we are reminded that archaeology is a discipline perpetually shaped by new discoveries and interpretations. Our understanding of the past is not static but a dynamic tapestry, where each thread of evidence adds depth and nuance. By using colour and white space in our illustrations to mark the limits of our knowledge, we create a visual language that conveys both the richness and the uncertainty of the ancient world. This practice aligns with the overarching goal of archaeology: to interpret the past in a way that is as accurate and inclusive as possible, even if that means embracing the ambiguity that comes with it.

References

Abbe, M. B., Borromeo, G. E., & Pike, S. (2012). A Hellenistic Greek marble statue with ancient polychromy reported to be from Knidos. 763-770.
Ávila, F. (2012). Arqueología policroma. El uso y la elección del color en expresiones plásticas [Polychrome Archaeology: The Use and Choice of Colour in Plastic Art Expressions].
Banning, E. B. (2020). Archaeological Illustration and Publication', in Encyclopedia of Global Archaeology. Springer. DOI: 10.1007/978-3-030-47992-3_21.
Ribeyrol, Charlotte (2018). From Galatea to Tanagra: Victorian translations of the controversial colours of Greek sculpture. 179-193. doi: 10.4324/9781315277370-9.
Sifniotis, M., Jackson, B., White, M., Mania, K., & Watten, P. (2006). Visualising uncertainty in archaeological reconstructions: a possibilistic approach. DOI: 10.1145/1179849.1180049.