This relief was originally the front panel of a sarcophagus and depicts a marine thiasus at the centre of which is a round seashell. It was quite likely included in the ‘Fondi di Palazzo’ in 1762, and in 1827 it was listed among the works from the Lake Enclosure entrusted to Massimiliano Laboureur for restoration. Finally, in 1892 it was mentioned in its present location.
The composition develops symmetrically on the two sides of the valve, inside of which is depicted a kneeling Venus bearing a portrait of the deceased. The remaining surface is densely covered in numerous figures that show traces of extensive restoration.
The iconographic subject of the marine thiasus became popular in Roman funerary art as a decoration for sarcophagi in the late Antonine era. The peculiar hairstyle of Venus, which recalls the fashion adopted in portraits of Julia Domna, wife of the emperor Septimius Severus, has led the relief to be dated between the end of the second century and the early third century.
Borghese Collection, mentioned for the first time in the Inventory of 1762, in the ‘Fondi di Palazzo’ (p. 208); Inventario Fidecommissario Borghese 1833, C., pp. 45–46, no. 67. Purchased by the Italian State, 1902.
This panel from the front of a sarcophagus is decorated with a marine thiasus symmetrically arranged around the large, round valve of a seashell supported by two ichthyocentaurs. These have long hair falling in unruly locks to their shoulders. The left-hand ichthyocentaur also has a thick beard, and both are partially turning bust and head towards two Nereids who are sitting on their backs. The goddesses’ long hair is let down and their laps are covered by a cloth that they hold with one hand, while the other is resting on the side-fins behind the horse limbs. The extremities of the panel are framed by the tails of the ichthyocentaurs, which are enveloped in spires upon which alight winged Erotes playing wind instruments. On the ground, in the lower corners, are two sea serpents. These are followed by two winged Erotes playing with a panther (on the right) and a pistris (on the left), and a second feline. Below the seashell and partially concealed by the horse limbs, is an Eros riding a dolphin and brandishing a whip. In the centre of the valve is Venus, crouching demurely and accompanied by a cherub with a taeda, or torch. The goddess is half-naked and turned to the right. In her right hand she is holding up a mantle that is caught by the wind and inflated to form an arch over her head delicately encompassing her left arm. The styling of the hair is complex, with a parting down the middle, the strands falling down the sides of the face in soft, parallel waves that conceal the ears. The decorative composition is particularly dense, and the many heavily restored figures occupy the entire surface of the panel.
The motif of a marine retinue in a continuous frieze with a seashell at the centre became widespread in Roman funerary iconography employed in sarcophagi beginning in the late Antonine age. The few specimens that have Venus inside the shell can be dated to the late second and early third centuries CE. The image of the goddess is derived from a classical archetype in which her birth was depicted, here adapted to the funerary purpose of the object by adding the portrait of the deceased. The figure’s ‘tortoiseshell’ hairstyle appears to reflect a fashion set by Julia Domna, wife of the emperor Septimius Severus, as may be observed in a portrait held at the Museo Nazionale Romano (Sapelli 2004, pp. 24–25).
As for the significance of the theme of the marine thiasus for funerary monuments, in 1698 Buonarroti was the first to consider these figures a procession of mythical beings accompanying the soul of the deceased to the Isles of the Blessed: ‘In many sepulchres they carved marine figures as a retinue for the souls headed for the Elysium’ (p. 44). This hypothesis was very successful, so much so that in 1942 it was confirmed by Cumont, who believed that ‘plus transparent est le symbole de la navigation des âmes vers le Iles Fortunées, où une antique tradition plaçait le séjour des hèroes. Cette traversée a été choisie comme motif de décoration de nombreaux monuments funéraires’ (p. 166). This thesis was further embraced by Brandenburg in 1967 (p. 195). Rumpf advanced some objections regarding the eschatological meaning of the marine thiasus, and considered these mythical settings sophisticated allegories for the hope of a life after death. This author cited the absence of literary and epigraphic documentation to corroborate the interpretation, not to mention the use of this iconographic subject in non-funerary contexts (pp. 131–132). Other scholars believe it to evoke hedonistic messages visually transmitted through depictions of happiness, nudity and erotism, postulating that the presence of Meerwesen on the sarcophagi alluded to the state of atemporal bliss of the otherworldly dimension (Sichtermann 1970a, pp. 214–215; Sichtermann 1970b, pp. 236–238; Zanker, Ewald 2004, pp. 117–119, 132–134).
Having examined the figures of the Nereids, Barringer explained they possessed a benevolent significance and offered protection during journeys, whether literal (by sea) or metaphorical (towards the other world) (1995, pp. 54–55).
The most reliable hermeneutic framework would plausibly seem to include both hypothesis, that is to say that the images depicting marine thiasoi on sarcophagi evoke all the complex semantic facets of the chthonic horizon, from those conjuring an idyllic, otherworldly condition, to those involving ‘death by water’ seen as the soul’s symbolic journey towards the Isles of the Blessed (Sichtermann 1963, p. 422; Quartino 1987, p. 52; Zanker, Ewald 2004, p. 133).
The Borghese relief is likely identifiable with one mentioned in the Inventario of 1762 in the ‘Fondi di Palazzo’: ‘A bas relief with a Bacchanal of figures and marine horses with various cherubs’ (p. 208). In 1827 we find it mentioned as coming from the Lake Enclosure in a letter addressed by Minister Evasio Gozzani to Prince Camillo Borghese, listed among the works entrusted to the sculptor Massimiliano Laboureur to be restored (Moreno, Sforzini, 1897, p. 355). In 1833, the Inventario fidecommissario mentions it in its present location in Room 2, where it was recorded in guides to the Gallery, beginning with Venturi’s (p. 26).
The narrative built following a symmetrical structure, the soft, careful contours of the shapely Nereids, and the tension in the torso of the ichthyocentaurs find a close comparison in a relief with a similar subject preserved at the Camposanto Monumentale in Pisa, as well as another originally belonging to the Borghese collection and now preserved at the Louvre, both dated to the late second century CE (Rumf 1939, p. 24, no. 68; pp. 37–38, no. 93). As for the Borghese panel, Venus’s hairstyle, evocative of Julia Domna, seems to confirm this dating.
Giulia Ciccarello