Music and Text in Pindar, Pythians 2 and 12

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EPINICIAN VARIATIONS: MUSIC AND TEXT IN PINDAR, PYTHIANS 2 AND 12

Tom Phillips

The Classical Quarterly / Volume 63 / Issue 01 / May 2013, pp 37 - 56 DOI: 10.1017/S0009838812000791, Published online: 24 April 2013

Link to this article: http://journals.cambridge.org/abstract_S0009838812000791

How to cite this article: Tom Phillips (2013). EPINICIAN VARIATIONS: MUSIC AND TEXT IN PINDAR, PYTHIANS 2 AND 12. The Classical Quarterly, 63, pp 37-56 doi:10.1017/ S0009838812000791

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EPINICIAN VARIATIONS: MUSIC AND TEXT IN PINDAR, PYTHIANS 2 AND 12*

The importance of music for epinician, as for all other types of choral performance in Archaic and Classical Greece, has long been recognized, but the exiguousness of the evidence for the compositional principles behind such music, and for what these poems actually sounded like in performance, has limited scholarly enquiries. Examination of Pindar’s texts themselves for evidence of his musical practices was for a long time dominated by extensive and often inconclusive debate about the relations between metres and modes.1 More recently scholars have begun to explore Pindar’s relations to contemporary developments in musical performance, and in doing so have opened up new questions about how music affected audiences as aesthetically and culturally significant in its own right, and how it interacted with the language of the text.2 This article will investigate the performance scenarios of two of Pindar’s epinicians, arguing that in each case the poems contain indications of specific musical accompaniments, and use these scenarios as a starting point for engaging with wider interpretative questions. The self-referential dimension of these compositions will be of particular importance; I shall argue that Pindar deployed a type of musical intertex- tuality, in which his compositions draw on pre-existing melodic structures, utilizing their cultural associations for the purposes of his own pieces, a process crucial to the dynamics of performance of the poems concerned.3 By doing so I shall attempt to reach a better understanding of the roles played by music in epinician performance and of Pindar’s place in relation to the musical culture in which he worked.

PYTHIAN 12 IN PERFORMANCE

This poem was composed for Midas of Acragas, victor in the auletic contest at Delphi in 490. It presents an aition of the ‘many-headed nomos’, invented by Athena from the

* I am grateful to Armand D’Angour, Tim Rood, Oliver Thomas, Tim Whitmarsh and the journal’s anonymous referee for their comments on earlier drafts of this piece. 1 See L. Prauscello, ‘Epinician sounds: Pindar and musical innovation’, in P. Agócs, C. Carey and R. Rawles (edd.), Reading the Victory Ode (Cambridge, 2012), 58–82 for discussion of this problem, with detailed bibliography. I share her scepticism about the validity of seeing connections between particular modes and metres. 2 Studies include L. Pearson, ‘The dynamics of Pindar’s music: ninth Nemean and third Olympian’, ICS 2 (1977), 54–69; A. D’Angour, ‘How the dithyramb got its shape’, CQ 47 (1997), 331–51; J. Porter, ‘Lasus of Hermione, Pindar and the riddle of S’, CQ 57 (2007), 1–21; Prauscello (n. 1). See in general M.L. West, Ancient Greek Music (Oxford, 1992), 344–7. 3 Cf. D’Angour (n. 2) on the role of self-referentiality in Pindar’s response in Dith. 2 to Lasus of Hermione’s alterations of dithyrambic performance practice. This analysis is extended by Porter (n. 2), 6–10, who sees Pindar’s rhetoric in Dith. 2 as proclaiming an allegiance to a new Lasian ‘poetics of sound’. 38 TOM PHILLIPS lament of the Gorgons when Medusa was vanquished by Perseus. At 22–3 Athena is described as naming the nomos she has created: ἀλλά νιν ɛὑροῖσ’ ἀνδράσι θνατοῖς ἔχɛιν,|ὠνύμασɛνκɛφαλᾶν πολλᾶν νόμον. The aetiologizing here picks up on the pre- vious mention of the snakes’ heads (ὑπό τ’ ἀπλάτοις ὀφίων κɛφαλαῖς, 9),4 but 22–3 may also refer to the musical accompaniment of the performance. Aulos accompaniment would obviously be appropriate for a celebration of an aulete; indeed, it is hard to imagine the aulos not being used for this poem, whether accompanied by other instruments or not.5 Our sources give tantalizingly brief evidence for the use of nomoi. Ps.-Plutarch, De musica 1133F mentions that Stesichorus ‘made use of’ the so-called ‘Chariot nomos’:

Στησίχορος ὁἹμɛραῖος οὔτ’ Ὀρφέα οὔτɛ Τέρπανδρον οὔτ’ Ἀρχίλοχον οὔτɛ Θαλήταν ἐμιμήσατο, ἀλλ’ Ὄλυμπον, χρησάμɛνος τῷἉρματɛίῳ νόμῳ καὶ τῷ κατὰ δάκτυλον ɛἴδɛι, ὅ τινɛς ἐξ Ὀρθίου νόμου φασὶν ɛἶναι.

Stesichorus of Himera took as his model not Orpheus or Terpander or Archilochus or Thaletas, but Olympus, since Stesichorus used the Harmateios nomos and the dactylic species of rhythm, which some people say is derived from the Orthios nomos.6

Given that Stesichorus was not known as a composer of auletic nomoi, this suggests that ‘its identifiable features were transferable to a different musical medium’, in the case of Stesichorus, to solo performance on the cithara.7 The scholiast on Aristophanes, Frogs 1282, commenting on a passage in which Euripides alludes to Aeschylus’ penchant for drawing on citharodic melodies (μὴ πρίν γ’ ἀκούσῃςχἀτέραν στάσιν μɛλῶν | ἐκτῶν κιθαρῳδικῶν νόμων ɛἰργασμένην, 1281–2), make a similar claim about Aeschylus’ musical practice: Τιμαχίδας γράφɛι, ὡςτῷὀρθίῳ νόμῳ κɛχρημένου τοῦ Αἰσχύλου καὶἀνατɛταμένως.8 The sources tell us nothing about how poets ‘use’ nomoi, but they alert us to the possibility of the use of nomoi by other poets. It is clear from the sources that nomoi were melodic sequences which could be adapted to different performance modalities. West calls them ‘traditional patterns in which music was cast … schemes used for the singing of all kinds of verse’.9 Their rhythmic and melodic flexi- bility would have allowed them to be expanded upon, rearranged and varied according to the needs of the particular composer or performer. There is a connection here with the modalities of performance which Armand D’Angour has recently suggested were operative in the Archaic and Classical periods, chiefly a type of melodizing practice which

4 See B. Gentili, P. Angeli Bernardini, E. Cingano and P. Giannini, Pindaro. Le Pitiche (Milan, 1995), on 23. 5 See e.g. F. Frontisi-Ducroux, ‘Athéna et l’invention de la flûte’, Musica e storia 2 (1994), 239– 57, at 260; A. Morrison, Performances and Audiences in Pindar’s Sicilian Victory Odes (London, 2007), 82–4. Both hypothesize choral performance with aulos accompaniment. 6 All translations are from A. Barker, Greek Musical Writings: I (Cambridge, 1984). 7 Barker (n. 6), 253. See further M.L. West, ‘Stesichorus’, CQ 21 (1971), 309. On the harmateios nomos cf. S. Hagel, Ancient Greek Music (Cambridge, 2010), 402–3. 8 See T. Fleming, ‘The musical nomos in Aeschylus’ Oresteia’, CJ 72.3 (1977), 222–33 and J. Danielewicz, ‘Il Nomos nella parodia di Aristofane (Ran. 1264 sgg.)’,inLirica greca e latina: atti del convegno di studi polacco-italiano (Rome, 1990), 131–42 for detailed discussion. 9 West (n. 7), 309–10. See F. Lasserre, Plutarque: de la musique (Olten, 1954), 22–9, and T. Power, The Culture of Kitharôidia (Washington, 2010), 215–24, on nomoi in general. While we should be sceptical of Lasserre’s validation of ancient classification of nomoi and of his thesis of the wide and pervasive influence of nomoi on musico-poetic practice in the Archaic and Classical period (see the comments of Barker [n. 6], 249–55), this should not lead to the conclusion that nomoi were never utilized in the manner indicated by the sources. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 39 consisted in applying a given set of notes in different ways to different lines according to the pitch profiles of the words to which the melody was set. Musical training was not a matter of learning melodies specifically tailored to individual poems, but rather learning to apply a given note group, rather than fixed sequence, to variant word structures.10 Ps.-Plutarch, De musica 1133D discusses the ‘many-headed nomos’, ascribing its invention to the semi-legendary Phrygian aulete Olympus and reporting that it was dedicated to Apollo. The scholiast on Pythian 12.39c identifies this nomos with the one whose invention and naming by Athena is described at 12.22–3.11 The situation is complicated by the presence in the tradition of the ‘Athena nomos’, described at De musica 1143B–C. Given the fluidity and imprecision with which nomoi were classified in later antiquity,12 and the role ascribed to Athena in Pythian 12 as the inventor of the ‘many- headed nomos’, it seems reasonable to suppose that ‘Athena nomos’ and ‘many-headed nomos’ are different names for the same piece, a conflation which arises from their structural similarity and from Athena’s prominent role in both, with ‘Athena nomos’ perhaps acting as a gloss on the more obscure name.13 This identification is reinforced by the attribution of both nomoi to Olympus. I suggest that it was this nomos, on which Pindar drew for the musical accompaniment of Pythian 12. A poem centred around Athena’s invention of the aulos might be expected to make use of a well-known melodic and rhythmical structure associated with the goddess, allowing the poem to draw on the musical associations of such a piece. While the details of how Pindar may have made melodic use of the nomos are irrecoverable, it is possible to see traces of this appropriation in the rhythmical structure of Pythian 12. Ps.-Plutarch’s description of the Athena nomos includes the following reference, as part of a discussion of rhythmical combinations and their ethical effects:

οἷον Ὀλύμπῳ τὸἐναρμόνιον γένος ἐπὶ Φρυγίου τόνου τɛθὲν παίωνι ἐπιβατῷ μιχθέν· τοῦτο γὰρτῆς ἀρχῆςτὸἦθος ἐγέννησɛν ἐπὶ τῷ τῆς Ἀθηνᾶς νόμῳ· προσληφθɛίσης γὰρμɛλοποιίας καὶῥυθμοποιίας, τɛχνικῶςτɛ μɛταληφθέντος τοῦῥυθμοῦ μόνον αὐτοῦ καὶ γɛνομένου τροχαίου ἀντὶ παίωνος.14

In the work of Olympus, for instance, the enharmonic genus was set in the Phrygian tonos and mixed with the paeon epibatos, and it was this that generated the character of the beginning of the nomos of Athena: for the enharmonic genus15 of Olympus is constructed from these

10 A. D’Angour, ‘The ‘new music’: so what’s new?’ in S. Goldhill and R. Osborne (edd.), Rethinking Revolutions through Ancient Greece (Cambridge, 2006), 278–80. 11 An identification accepted by Barker (n. 6), 253. A. Köhnken, Die Funktion des Mythos bei Pindar: Interpretationen zu sechs Pindargedichten (Berlin, 1971), 143 sees a more general reference to Athena’s musical inventiveness. Given the precision of the etymology, this seems unlikely. See Gentili et al. (n. 4), 679–80 on the attribution to Olympus: ‘il racconto di Pindaro riguarda l’origine mitica dell’arte auletica e del nomos policefalo … mentre l’attribuzione a Olimpo riflette una fase pos- teriore, già storica’. 12 Barker (n. 6), 249–55. 13 An identification made by Barker (n. 6), 240 n. 210. [Plut.]’s information that the ‘many-headed nomos’ was dedicated to Apollo should not make us question this thesis. It is likely that this reflects a tradition that it was also performed as part of the Delphic contests, but this does not mean that it was not associated with Athena, and hence could not be known as the ‘Athena nomos’. 14 [Plut.] De mus. 1143B. Despite the time gap, [Plut.]’s evidence for such pieces can probably be applied to the classical period with reasonable confidence, given the conservative nature of their performance. [Plut.] is likely to reflect Aristoxenus and other early sources closely, and thus effectively provide evidence not far removed from Pindar’s time. 15 The text is probably corrupt here. As Barker (n. 6), 240 n. 221 points out, the expression ‘enharmonic genus’ is used elsewhere only of melodic structure, whereas rhythmical structure alone is being discussed here. 40 TOM PHILLIPS elements with the addition of the actual composition of the melody and the rhythm, and subtle modulations of the rhythm, but of nothing else, so that it becomes trochaic rather than paeonic.

The central point of interest for my discussion is Ps.-Plutarch’s account of the rhythmical modulation involved in the Athena nomos. This modulation was obviously a key structural element of the piece, as Ps.-Plutarch’s later comments on its ethical effect make clear: ἡ γὰρ καλουμένη ἁρμονία ἐντῷ τῆς Ἀθηνᾶς νόμῳ πολὺ διέστηκɛ κατὰ τὸἦθος τῆς ἀναπɛίρας (‘the so-called harmonia in the nomos of Athena is very different in character from the opening section’).16 The final line of the strophe of Pythian 12, notated E – e – by Snell, can also be analysed as a trochaic trimeter (– u – x – u – x – u – x):

8 οὕλιον θρῆνον διαπλέξαισ’ Ἀθάνα 16 ɛὐπαράου κρᾶτα συλάσαις Μɛδοίσας 24 ɛὐκλɛᾶ λαοσσόων μναστῆρ’ ἀγώνων 32 ἔμπαλιν γνώμας τὸ μὲν δώσɛι, τὸ δ’ οὔπω

I suggest that this line mimics the trochaic modulation in the Athena nomos. The penul- timate syllable of each line is accented, so would probably have been sung to a higher pitch than the final syllable, which (perhaps combined with a slight stress on the higher note) would have emphasized the trochaic effect. It is unclear exactly how trochaic the nomos was; the trochaic trimeter of the above lines may be an exact replication of one found in the nomos, or may be loosely similar. Pythian 12 is one of the most rhythmically repetitive of Pindar’s epinicians. As analysed by Snell, D – D is repeated twice (s2 and 4), and – D – E occurs three times (s3, 5 and 6). While intrastanzaic and intratriadic repetitions are by no means uncommon in Pindar, Pythian 12 is the only dactylo-epitrite ode to contain a threefold repetition of a metrical line within a stanza or a triad, and the only ode to contain two different such repetitions.17 One effect of these repetitions is to throw the trochaic modulation at s8 into greater relief. It is probable also that the repeated lines drew on the rhythm of the paeon epibatos and provided a suitable frame for the deployment of a melody related to that used in the paeonic section of the Athena nomos.18 It is questionable how strongly such a trochaic modulation would have been felt by an audience, but I

16 [Plut.] De mus. 1143B–C. The meaning of harmonia is uncertain, but must refer to a section of the piece: see Barker (n. 6), ad loc. 17 Other instances of intrastanzaic/intratriadic repetition of whole lines in D/e odes are P3e5/6 (D – E); N1s2/4 (– e – D); N10e1/2 (e – D – e); I5s5e1 (e – D –); I6e3/6 (E – D). The verse E – e – also occurs at O3s5, O3e5, O7e7, I2s5 and I3/4s6. In each case the verse is the final line in the stanza. There are also six cases in Bacchylides: 9s9, 10s9, 11e11, 14e8, 15s5/7. It is important to note that there is no a priori connection between a rhythmical form and a particular form of melodization; I do not wish to suggest that each time the E – e – verse occurs it would have been melodized in connection with the Athena nomos. In order to hypothesize such a melodic connection, we need more than just the rhythm. In the cases of Ol.3,Isthm. 2 and Isthm. 3/4 I can see no reason for positing any such link. In the case of Ol. 7, however, Athena plays a large role in the poem as object of the fireless sacrifice (39–53) and patroness of the Rhodian craftsmen (43–4). It is suggestive, for instance, that the dramatic episode of Athena’s birth at 35–8 ends with the E – e – line Οὐρανὸς δ’ ἔφριξέ νιν καὶ Γαῖα μάτηρ. It seems possible that Pindar may have made some use of the Athena nomos in Ol. 7, but the greater rhythmical and narrative complexity of this poem must render such a suggestion tentative. See B. Kowalzig, Singing for the Gods (Oxford, 2007), 224–66 for a reading of the poem’s ritual context; use of the Athena nomos would be apt for a performance at the shrine of Athena Lindia. 18 For the rhythm of the paeon epibatos, see Aristid. Quint. 1.16, 2.15; West (n. 2), 156. Trochees are relatively rare in lyric: see e.g. West (n. 2), 102–6. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 41 suggest that the effect would have been marked when combined with an accompanying melodic shift. This provides an additional reason for taking the Athena nomos and the many-headed nomos to be the same piece; if Pindar used the Athena nomos as the melodic and rhythmical basis for Pythian 12, it would hardly make sense for him to narrate the aetiology of another melody. In sum: Pythian 12 was (probably) a choral piece,19 accompanied by the aulos, perhaps in concert with a stringed instrument, whose melodic and rhythmical structure drew on, and reconfigured, that of the Athena nomos. In order to better understand this appropriation, I shall examine the Athena nomos further. Strabo’s account of the musical contests at Delphi includes a description of the Πυθικὸς νόμος, an auletic nomos in five parts which was mimetic of Apollo’s kill- ing of the Python.20 Several factors combine to suggest that the Pythikos nomos and the Athena/many-headed nomos were structurally parallel in many respects.21 They were both solo pieces for aulos and both, if we accept Pythian 12.22–3 as an aetiology of the Athena/many-headed nomos, mimetic of a foundational mythical event. It seems certain that the Pythikos nomos, like the Athena nomos, involved rhythmical modulations; Pollux’s account mentions that the section representing the triumph of the god was called spondeion, while Strabo mentions the use of iambic and dactylic rhythms for the section representing the battle. Both nomoi exploited the mimetic capacities of the aulos: the Pythikos included high-pitched whistling noises representing the συριγμοί of the dying monster, while the scholia to Pythian 12 explain the etymology of the ‘many-headed nomos’ as related to the hissing sounds made by the Gorgons’ snakes, indicating that a similar mimetic effect was at work there.22 If we accept the parallelism between the Pythikos nomos and the Athena/many-headed nomos, we can, even in the absence of any information about melodization,23 gain certain insights into Pindar’s compositional techniques and their effects. The sequential narrative structure of the nomos has been displaced; the modulation from paeonic to trochaic rhythm described by Ps.-Plutarch, which presumably occurred only once in the nomos, has become in Pindar’s poem a structure of repetition, which is emphasized by the monostrophic pattern. This structural shift must have had a marked effect. Our ignorance of the melody limits our understanding of this shift, but it is probable that the effect would have been one of containment, the sequential narrativity of the nomos being subordinated to the strict architecture of the monostrophic pattern. Moreover, the purely musical mimeticity of the nomos has been reinscribed within a structure that is also linguistic, producing a hybrid form.24 It is impossible to tell whether Pindar’s composition and performance preserved any of the mimetic elements present in the nomos, but there are certain points at which such elements could have

19 See e.g. Morrison (n. 5), 82–4. 20 Strabo 9.3.10. 21 This parallelism is assumed by Barker (n. 6), 253 and Z. Papadopoulou and V. Pirenne-Delforge, ‘Inventer et réinventer l’aulos: autour de la XIIe Pythique de Pindare’, in P. Brulé and C. Vendries (edd.), Chanter les dieux: musique et religion dans l’antiquité grecque et romaine (Rennes, 2001), 56–7. 22 Σ Pyth. 12.15b, 39b–c. While the scholia’s etymology of the many-headed nomos should not be dismissed out of hand, a certain scepticism is in order. It is possible that the sources from whom the scholia derive had never heard the melody, and were making guesses based on the name and subject matter alone. Equally, their explanation may be influenced by an awareness of the mimeticity of the (better known?) Pythikos nomos. 23 See Prauscello (n. 1), for the suggestion that Pyth. 12 was played in the Phrygian harmonia. 24 Cf. Papadopoulou and Pirenne-Delforge (n. 21), 57 for musical mimesis independent of language. 42 TOM PHILLIPS been employed. The phrase οὔλιον θρῆνον with its echoing long vowels has an onoma- topoeic feel which could have been emphasized musically, perhaps by the use of melis- mata, whereby one syllable was set to two notes. It is also possible that τὸν παρθɛνίοις ὑπό τ’ ἀπλάτοις ὀφίων κɛφαλαῖς | ἄϊɛ λɛιβόμɛνον δυσπɛνθέϊ σὺν καμάτῳ was accompanied by musical phrases or effects, such as high-pitched notes, which reflected the meaning.25 The word break after κρᾶτα in 16 falls after the trochee of the second metron; the jerkiness of the rhythm provides a pointed rhythmical correlative to the act of beheading, which may well also have been emphasized by the instrumentation. Likewise the description at 20–1 of the physicalities of sound production (καρπαλιμᾶνγɛνύων) and of its emotive and emotional qualities (ἐρικλάγκταν γόον) lends itself to instrumental interpretation and emphasis.

MUSIC AND TEXT

These interrelations of music and text point towards the wider interpretative conse- quences of the use of the nomos. The aition narrated in Pythian 12 is not the only one related to the invention of the aulos and aulos playing. Perhaps the better-known story is that of Athena and Marsyas, in which Athena, having invented the instrument, rejects it on account of the distortion of her facial features caused by playing it, where- upon it is taken up by Marsyas.26 Pythian 12 is our first source for the ‘Athena and the Gorgons’ aition, but it is unclear how original this mythopoeia was.27 Crucially, Pindar describes the origin of aulos playing not only as the invention of an instrument and of an art in general, as is the case in the other aitia, but as the origin of a particular piece, the ‘many-headed nomos’. One motivation for the mythological grounding of this piece could be that it was the very piece with which Midas was victorious in his performance at the Delphic contests.28 Whether or not this was the case, the paradigmatic association of a single piece with the origins of aulos playing as a whole has the effect of marking the whole art with the characteristics of a particular moment of divine invention. By means of this totalizing redescription, Pindar validates his composition (and Midas’ victory, if it was indeed the ‘many-headed nomos’ with which he won) by associating it with the paradigmatic moment of αὐλητική par excellence. This also has the effect of juxtaposing the musical and circumstantial individuality of Pindar’s use of the nomos with its general cultural importance.

25 Cf. [Plut.] De mus. 1138A with Barker (n. 6), 226 n. 137. Cf. Porter (n. 2), 18 on the ‘ophidian imagery’ of Dith. 2. See ibid. n. 98 for the connection between snakes and the aulos. On melism in general see West (n. 2), 201–4, 320, 322–3. The effect was a common trope of late fifth-century music: see West (n. 2), 201 on Ar. Ran. 1314 and 1348. He proposes (p. 202) that division of long syllables into two short notes was common by the late fifth century. Although there is no evidence for the use of melism as early as our piece, we should perhaps expect that the practice predated the innovations of the ‘New Musicians’ in at least a limited form. 26 Cf. PMG 758 and 805 for 5th-c. versions of the Athena/Marsyas narrative. Paus. 1.24.1 describes the famous statue group by Myron on the Athenian Acropolis which depicts the myth. For analysis, see B. Leclerq-Neveu, ‘Marsyas, le martyr de l’aulos’, Mètis 4 (1989), 251–68. For later treatments see e.g. Hyg. Fab. 165; Apollod. Bibl. 4.4.3. Papadopoulou and Pirenne-Delforge (n. 21), 44–5 explore possible echoes of the Marsyas story in Pyth.12. 27 See e.g. J. Landels, Music in Ancient Greece and Rome (London, 1999), 154–9. Cf. Papadopoulou and Pirenne-Delforge (n. 21), 38. 28 This is assumed by West (n. 2), 214 and followed by Porter (n. 2), 17, but we are not told that this was the case. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 43

While recent readings of the poem have analysed the text’s sociological implications with regard to the disputed place of the aulos in Greek musical culture of the time, and in relation to contemporary debates about musicopoetic style,29 I want to focus here on the role of the poem’s interrelations of text and musical and rhythmical features. The complexity of these interrelations emerges from the fact that the accompanying instrument is the subject of the discourse. This involves an audience in a mimetically double structure, wherein the aulos, both as a concept and as a concrete part of the performance, is redescribed by the verbal narrative, while simultaneously providing the musical frame within which the words of the text are understood. This doubleness is particularly notable in the descriptions of the musicality of the aulos at 6–11 and 19–21, descriptions which mark both the originary moment of creation, in implicit opposition to the Athena/ Marsyas narrative, and the musicality of the present performance. The music to which the audience listens during the performance is subjected to a transformation which reaches back into the mythical past and simultaneously acts on the present. The poem’s multiple mimeticity (Pindar imitating Athena imitating the Gorgons, to which we can now add the musical and rhythmical mimesis and reconfiguration by Pythian 12 of the Athena nomos) has often been noted by scholars;30 what has been less appreciated is the dual status of the mimetics staged by the poem as both production and imitation. Given that the mythical episode narrated in Pythian 12 must predate Pindar in some form, as does the nomos upon which the poem’s musical and rhythmical structure drew, it is clear that the ode does not dramatize itself as a purely originary production of what it imitates, but as a reconfigurative intervention into the tradition. In this sense, Pindar’s creative use of the nomos parallels Athena’s act of creative invention. This dynamic is reflected in the blurring of figure and ground enacted by the text’s mimetic structure.31 At the lexical level the Gorgons’ οὔλιος θρῆνος is both the ground which makes Athena’s foundational mimesis possible, and a figuration of the present performance; as a musical texture it functions as an echo heard through the redescribed aulos music of the performance, and as its mythical antecedent. The Gorgon’s lament is figured as unapproachable (cf. ἀπλάτοις ὀφίων κɛφαλαῖς, 9) as something which requires Athena’s technological intervention to become assimilable to human experi- ence. This is furthered by the semantics of οὔλιος, which in addition to ‘baneful’ or ‘destructive’ can also mean ‘frequently repeated’.32 I would suggest that the oscillation

29 e.g. F. Frontisi-Ducroux (n. 5); Papadopoulou and Pirenne-Delforge (n. 21); R. Martin, ‘The pipes are brawling: conceptualizing musical performance in Athens’, in C. Dougherty and L. Kurke (edd.), The Cultures within Ancient Greek Culture: Contact, Conflict, Collaborations (Cambridge, 2003), 153–80. For disputes about the aulos see generally P. Wilson, ‘The aulos in Athens’, in S. Goldhill and R. Osborne (edd.), Performance Culture and Athenian Democracy (Cambridge, 1999), 58–75. 30 e.g. E. Schlesinger, ‘Pindar Pyth. 12’, Hermes 96 (1968), 275–86; C. Segal, ‘The Gorgon and the nightingale: the voice of female lament and Pindar’s twelfth Pythian ode’, in L. Dunn and N. Jones (edd.), Embodied Voices: Representing Female Vocality in Western Culture (Cambridge and New York), 17–34: reprinted in Aglaia: The Poetry of Alcman, Sappho, Pindar, Bacchylides and Corinna (Lanham and Oxford, 1998), 85–104, at 99. 31 One might compare the performative ‘reinvention’ of the ‘original’ dithyrambic circular chorus in Dith.2. 32 The former sense is usually favoured by commentators (e.g. Köhnken [n. 11], 136: ‘in seiner Wirkung auf Perseus gleicht der Threnos der Gorgonen einem furchteinflössenden und verderbenbrin- genden Kriegsgeschrei’. D. Gerber, ‘The Gorgons’ lament in Pindar Pythian 12’, MH 43 (1986), 248 follows J. Greppin, ‘Oulos, “baneful”’, TAPhA 106 (1976), 177–86 in seeing Pyth. 12.8 as echoing e.g. Il. 17.756 οὖλον κɛκλήγοντɛς and drawing on the repetitiveness of ritual lament. 44 TOM PHILLIPS of these meanings contributes to a sense of the Gorgons’ Unheimlichkeit.33 This process is reinforced at the musical level by the musicality of the aulos in performance, whose sound is a mediated, partial representation of its mythical antecedent; there is clearly a difference, as well as a similarity, between the aulos to which an audience listens and the Gorgons’ lament. If we accept the argument that Athena’s ‘weaving’ (8) of the Gorgons’ threnos also combines it with the cry of victory uttered by Perseus at 11,34 then Athena’s mimesis is dramatized as a mode of combination and reconfiguration, wherein each of the elements, the lament and the victory cry, contributes to a whole that is different from either of them individually. The poem enacts mimesis as simultaneously a presencing and a displacement, as a practice which makes a cultural event available and also drama- tizes its otherness.35 There is a strong stress on continuity as well as on difference and distance. Emphasis is placed, for instance, on the continuity between Athena’s foundational act and the cur- rent conditions of auletic performance: ɛὗρɛνθɛός· ἀλλά νιν ɛὑροῖσ’ ἀνδράσι θνατοῖς ἔχɛιν (22). The auletic art is envisioned here as an embodying continuity of Athena’s practice, in which the physical contingencies of performance assume a symbolic value by means of their connection with their mythical precursor.36 This detailing of the physicalities of performance is furthered by the description of the instrument (λɛπτοῦ διανισόμɛνον χαλκοῦ θαμὰ καὶ δονάκων, 25) which some scholars have read as referring to contemporary developments in the design and construction of auloi.37 The personification of the reeds at 27 as πιστοὶ χορɛυτᾶν μάρτυρɛς reinforces the rhetoric of embodiment; the reeds’‘witnessing’ gives them an anthropomorphic character. The use of θαμά also marks Pythian 12 as part of a continuity of performances. But the dynamic by which performance functions as an embodiment of the foundational act is not one of a simple ascription to the present performance of the energies and value attendant on their precursor. As argued above, mimesis is presented, both musically and textually, as a practice of presencing and distancing, a dynamic which is reflected in the description of the perpetuation of the nomos.At23(ὠνύμασɛν κɛφαλᾶν πολλᾶν νόμον) the act of naming, the act of linguistic mediation, is dramatized as central to the perpetuation of the specified musical practice. This deployment of naming, as well as invoking the bestowal of a name as an act of empowerment,38 proleptically metaphorizes the appropriation in which Pythian 12 engages by utilizing the melodic frame of the Athena nomos in a new rhythmical (and linguistic) structure. Athena’s act of naming is figured as the precursor of the (re)naming in which the poet engages; again, this gesture is both mimetic and productive. Moreover, the use of θαμά, together with the physical details of 25, stresses the individuality of the performance, and thus the singular nature of each performance as a transient, unrepeatable event, the precise contingencies of which cannot be replicated. The embodied continuity of cultural practice is offset by the singular performance events which constitute it.

33 For a classic analysis of the Gorgons as other see J.-P. Vernant, La mort dans les yeux (Paris, 1985), 12, and further Segal (n. 30), 86–8. 34 J. Clay, ‘Pindar’s Twelfth Pythian: reed and bronze’, AJPh 113 (1992), 523, followed by Martin (n. 29), 163. 35 Cf. Segal (n. 30), 90–3, who stresses the transformation of the Gorgons’ cry from a shriek of primordial pain into a culturally contained and sanctioned practice. 36 On embodiment see T. Habinek, The World of Roman Song (Oxford, 2005), 4–6 with bibliography. 37 Papadopoulou and Pirenne-Delforge (n. 21), 47–51. 38 Cf. e.g. the naming of Iamus in Ol.6. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 45

It might seem paradoxical that Pythian 12 should dramatize the discovery of αὐλητική by means of a mimetic action (Athena’s) which imitates an event (the Gorgons’ lament) which is only partially appropriable by human activity, of which a performance can only be an indirect echo. But such a strategy serves to glorify the aulos by stressing its strangeness, and in turn emphasizes the power of the art, and of the individuals capable of utilizing it. The narrative’s foregrounding of alterity, and of the singularity both of Athena’s foundational act and, by implication, of the performance itself, provides an indirect correlative to the power of fate and the divine, invoked at 29–32, as a force incapable of being comprehended or anticipated by mortals (30) and capable of unforeseen and transformational interventions into men’s lives (ἀɛλπτίᾳ βαλών | ἔμπαλιν γνώμας,31–2). The performance maintains and enacts the dual status of the mythical founding, and the mythical fabula in general, as both other and culturally assimilated. The determining role played by the musical aspect of the performance now shows up more clearly; musical accompaniment enacts the embodiment of the Gorgons’ lament, while also stressing, by means of its place within the reconfigured structure of the nomos, its constructedness and the human arts – technical, compositional and performative – needed to realize it.

PYTHIAN 2 AND THE CASTOREION

Composed for Hiero of Syracuse, this poem is of uncertain date and poses considerable difficulties of interpretation. In an attempt to shed light on some of these problems, I shall make an argument about the poem’s musical and rhythmical structure, and the significance that these elements may have had for the poem’s reception in the volatile political climate of contemporary Syracuse. I begin with lines 67–71:

χαῖρɛ· τόδɛ μὲν κατὰ Φοίνισσαν ἐμπολάν μέλος ὑπὲρ πολιᾶς ἁλὸς πέμπɛται· τὸ Καστόρɛιον δ’ ἐνΑἰολίδɛσσι χορδαῖς θέλων ἄθρησον χάριν ἑπτακτύπου φόρμιγγος ἀντόμɛνος.

Although almost every word in this sentence is problematic, the chief problem is whether τόδɛ μὲν … μέλος … τὸ Καστόρɛιον δ’ refer to different compositions or to the same piece. There are claims to be made for both positions. On the one hand, τόδɛ μὲν … μέλος … τὸ Καστόρɛιον δ’ would seem to broach an opposition between two separate pieces.39 But there are problems with this. First, Pindar’s use of μέν … δέ is very idiosyncratic,40 and second, while the placement of μέν and δέ would seem to

39 See e.g. C. Bowra, Problems in Greek Poetry (Oxford, 1953), 82–4; R. Burton, Pindar’s Pythian Odes: Essays in Interpretation (London, 1962), 122–3; Gentili et al. (n. 4), 391–2. See G. Most, The Measures of Praise (Göttingen, 1985), 99 n. 21 for further references. 40 As noted by B. Gildersleeve, Pindar. The Olympian and Pythian Odes (New York, 1890) in his discussion of this passage. See further W. Slater, Lexicon to Pindar (Berlin, 1969), 323–9 on the various uses. He cites Pyth. 2.67–9 under the heading ‘opposed sentences’ (p. 324). Pindar’s uses may reflect the multifarious use of μέν … δέ in epic discourse, for which see E. Bakker, Poetry in Speech (Ithaca, 1997), 80–5. He identifies various Homeric usages which do not adequately correspond to the oppositional sense customary in e.g. Attic prose. Particularly germane to our discussion is his analysis of Il. 5.148–9 where μέν … δέ ‘mark events in performance time, not in story time’. This is an apt description of the use at Pyth. 2.67–9. 46 TOM PHILLIPS indicate an opposition between the pronoun and noun which precede them, the syntax complicates this opposition, with τόδɛ … μέλος being the subject of πέμπɛται, while τὸ Καστόρɛιον is the object of ἄθρησον. Moreover, in all of the other passages where Pindar refers to the musical accompaniment of a poem, the reference is always to the present performance.41 Reading the passage as referring to a different piece would make it the only occasion in Pindar of a reference to a specific performance beyond the present one. This was the reading of the scholia, which see τὸ Καστόρɛιον as a reference to a hyporchema composed for Hiero (frr. 105a–b).42 Given the difficulty of the sentence, however, there are good grounds for seeing this as a misinterpretation of the function of the μέν … δέ clause. The above considerations have led a succession of commentators since Boeckh to see τὸ Καστόρɛιον as a reference to Pythian 2.43 In line with the syntactical shift described above, Boeckh read the opposition as πέμπɛται μὲν τόδɛ μέλος, ἄθρησον δὲ τὸ Καστόρɛιον. Christopher Carey elaborates on this position, citing Nemean 4.9–13, Isthmian 2.43–6 and Bacchylides 5.6–12 as comparanda for the opposition between des- patch of a poem and its reception. He also cites examples of usages of μέν … δέ in Pindar which do not imply contrast between the compared elements.44 Bruno Gentili objects that ‘in questo caso la struttura sintattica (μέν … δέ), più che evedenziare due aspetti della stessa cosa … sembra voler contraporre due carmi diversi’, denying the force of the examples quoted by Carey and followed by Most.45 Gentili is in a sense right to raise doubts about the validity of Carey’s examples because, while they all demonstrate non-adversative use of μέν … δέ, none provides a precise parallel in that none involves an opposition of two conceptually aligned signifiers, as is the case with Pythian 2.67–71. The exception in Carey’s list is Pythian 2.48: τὰ ματρόθɛν μὲν κάτω, τὰ δ’ ὕπɛρθɛ πατρός, where the coordinated elements both refer to parts of the body; still, this is not a precise comparandum for Pythian 2.67–71, because although Carey is right to use it as an example of the compared elements in μέν … δέ clauses not being those which fall immediately before the two particles (the comparanda here are not ματρόθɛν and τὰ δ’ ὕπɛρθɛ but τὰ … κάτω and τὰ δ’ ὕπɛρθɛ, with secondary opposition between ματρόθɛν and πατρός), the conceptuality of the opposition, as between upper and lower parts of the body, clarifies the syntactical variation.

41 So Gentili et al. (n. 4), 391–2, citing Ol. 1.101–5; Nem. 3.76–9(χαῖρɛ … τόδɛ τοι πέμπω μɛμιγμένον μέλι λɛυκῷ σὺν γάλακτι … πόμ’ ἀοίδιμον Αἰολίσσιν ἐν πνοαῖσιν αὐλῶν); Nem. 4.44–5(τόδ’…Λυδίᾳ σὺν ἁρμονίᾳ μέλος). Cf. e.g. Ol. 3.5; 14.17–18. The reference at Ol. 9.1–2 to τὸ μὲν Ἀρχιλόχου μέλος | φωνᾶɛν Ὀλυμπίᾳ καλλίνικος ὁ τριπλόος κɛχλαδώς is an exception, but because it refers to an extraneous composition it does not refute the proposition that with regard to musicological descriptions of his own compositions Pindar only refers to a present performance. 42 Σ Pyth. 2.127. See further below, n. 65. 43 A. Boeckh, ‘Kritik der Schrift G. Hermanns de officio interpretis’, in F. Ascherson and P. Eicholtz (edd.), Gesammelte Kleine Schriften 7: Kritiken nebst einem Anhange (Leipzig, 1872), 404–77, followed by e.g. W. Christ, Pindar Carmina, prolegomenis et commentariis instructa (Leipzig, 1896), 130; O. Schroeder, Pindars Pythien (Leipzig, 1922), 21; C. Carey, A Commentary on Five Odes of Pindar (Cambridge, 1981), 47–8; G. Kirkwood, Selections from Pindar (Chicago, 1982), 154; Most (n. 39), 99–100. See Most, ibid. 99 n. 22 for further references. 44 Carey (n. 43), 48: Ol. 2.27–31; Pyth. 2.48, 63–5; 4.86; 8.70–2; Nem. 9.39–40; Isthm. 6.44–7; 8.56–8. 45 Gentili et al. (n. 4), 392. Cf. B. Gentili, ‘Pindarica III. La Pitica 2 e il carme iporchematico di Castore (fr. 105a–b Maehler)’, QUCC 40 (1992), 51–2 where he argues contra Schroeder’s citation of Pyth. 4.13 and 5.102–3 to support his contention of reference to separate pieces that ‘manca in questi casi l’elemento significativo dell’opposizione (μέν … δέ) che risulta invece determinante nella P.2’. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 47

Similarly at Pythian 2.63–5 the force of the opposition is given not so much by the word order (the opposition is not νɛότατι μὲν … βουλαὶ δέ) as by the conceptual determi- nation of the comparanda by the adjective πρɛσβύτɛραι. While Carey’s exempla show that μέν … δέ need not have oppositional force in Pindar, they do not necessarily bear on Pythian 2.67–71. While I would follow Carey in seeing the main opposition as between πέμπɛται and ἄθρησον, I would also argue that, pace Gentili, there is a contrast between τόδɛ μέλος and τὸ Καστόρɛιον, not as different entities, but at the level of their qualification. The opposition is between τόδɛ μέλος qua ‘Phoenician merchandise’46 and the Castoreion qua musical structure. This is reinforced by the word order: the fact that κατὰ Φοίνισσαν ἐμπολάν falls between τόδɛ μέν and μέλος implies that the qualification of the noun is as much the subject of the opposition as the noun and pronoun. The μέν and δέ clauses thus refer to different aspects of the poem, the former to the text as authored, valued, transported, the latter to its aspect in performance.47 The lines refer back to 3–4(ὔμμιν τόδɛ τᾶν λιπαρᾶν ἀπὸ Θηβᾶν φέρων | μέλος ἔρχομαι), where μέλος is used metaphorically and is seen rather through a double lens. First, there is the straightforward metaphorical reference to the present performance. Second, however, λιπαρᾶν ἀπὸ Θηβᾶν φέρων μέλος, as well as referring literally to the arrival of the poet/chorus, is also a figurative reference to what precedes the performance, its commission, conceptualization, design, composition, rehearsal, etc., a sense given by the implicit reference of φέρων to actions which precede the performance and to the poem being ‘carried’ in a state which precedes its state in performance. This implicit opposition is reinforced by the geographical opposition between the poem’s starting point (Thebes) and its performance location (Syracuse).48 The actions which precede the performance are collapsed into the present by means of the present participle, and are thus almost completely elided. I would suggest, however, that the implicit opposition at 3–4 between μέλος as ‘song in performance’ and those of its aspects which precede performance is expanded at 67–71. What exactly is meant by 69–71? Commentators have tended to take τὸ Καστόρɛιον as a metaphorical term for an epinician commemorating a chariot victory,49 based on Castor’s association with horses. Frequently cited as parallels for this usage are Olympian 1.100–3(ἐμὲ δὲ στɛφανῶσαι | κɛῖνον ἱππίῳ νόμῳ | Αἰοληΐδι μολπᾷ |

46 For which see Carey (n. 43), 48; Gentili et al. (n. 4), 391. There are no good grounds for following the scholia’s reading, seeing an opposition between Φοίνισσαν ἐμπολάν and χάριν, referring to the epinician being sent in exchange for payment and τὸ Καστόρɛιον, identified with the hyporchema, being sent as a free gift. 47 Note also Most (n. 39), 98–100, who argues that χαῖρɛ is deployed with the same force that it bears in the Homeric Hymns; see 98 n.16 for hymnal examples. Most, ibid. 99 comments on 67–71 that ‘the assumption that two different poems are involved would violate the generic expectations aroused by the hymnal χαῖρɛ. For it is typical in the Homeric Hymns that χαῖρɛ be followed by the poet’s expression of the wish that this poem might meet with a favourable response’. The Castoreion is also identified with the hyporchema by F. Ferrari, ‘Le prospettive del rito nelle Pitiche di Pindaro’, SemRom 3 (2000), 217–42, who suggests a ‘programma celebrativo’ in which Bacch. 4 was followed by Pyth. 2 and then the hyporchema. This argument, however, does not address the μέν … δέ problem. 48 Cf. Pyth. 4.298–9. I take Syracuse to be the location of the performance on the basis of the invo- cation which opens the poem. For the controversy over date and performance see Morrison (n. 5), 66 n. 164. 49 So e.g. Burton (n. 39), 122; H. Lloyd-Jones, ‘Modern interpretation of Pindar: the second Pythian and seventh Nemean Odes’, JHS 93 (1973), 123; Carey (n. 43), 48; and further Most (n. 39), 100 n. 25. So also Gentili et al. (n. 4), 391–2, referring it to the hyporcheme. 48 TOM PHILLIPS

χρή), Pythian 5.5–9(ὦ θɛόμορ’ Ἀρκɛσίλα … σὺν ɛὐδοξίᾳ μɛτανίσɛαι | ἕκατι χρυσαρμάτου Κάστορος) and Isthmian 1.15–16 (ἐθέλω | ἢ ΚαστορɛίῳἢἸολάοι’ ἐναρμόξαι νιν ὕμνῳ). I shall return to Olympian 1.100–3 later; for the moment, it should be noted that there is a crucial difference between the second two passages and Pythian 2.67–71, namely the employment in the latter of the definite article to qua- lify the reference to the ‘Castor song’. The references in Pythian 5 and Isthmian 6are generic; in the former, Castor is appealed to as a patron of horsemanship, while in the latter the sense of ἢ ΚαστορɛίῳἢἸολάοι’…ὕμνῳ is ‘a song about Castor or Iolaus’,a song about famous charioteers.50 The employment of the definite article at Pythian 2.69 gives the phrase a specificity of meaning not present in the other passages.51 I suggest, therefore, that τὸ Καστόρɛιον refers to the use by Pindar of the ‘Castor song’ as the rhythmical and melodic basis for Pythian 2. But while the reference is not just to ‘a song about Castor’ but rather to a specific musicopoetic appropriation, this does not mean that Castor’s association with horsemanship is not an important aspect of the text.52 The Castoreion was a marching tune which accompanied the Spartans on their way into battle and was played on the aulos.53 Here the significance of ἐνΑἰολίδɛσσι χορδαῖς is important.54 The primary meaning of χορδαῖς in this passage is ‘strings’, anticipating the reference to the ἑπτακτύπου φόρμιγγος at 70–1.55 The rarity of the usage, combined with the specific reference to the lyre’s seven strings/notes at 70–1, strongly suggests that these lines refer specifically to the physicality of the lyre. Thus ἐνΑἰολίδɛσσι χορδαῖς means ‘on Aeolian strings’, i.e. a melody in the Aeolian mode played on the lyre. This meaning is reinforced by reading χάριν ἑπτακτύπου φόρμιγγος as ‘a grace/glory of the seven-stringed lyre’, taking χάριν in apposition to τὸ Καστόρɛιον.56 This appositional use adds to the rhetoric of the passage by

50 Thus A. Privitera, Le Ismitiche (Milan, 1982), 142–3onIsthm. 1.16: ‘Il significato di Καστορɛίῳ ὕμνῳ è dunque generico … Pindaro vuole associare l’ode … ad un inno che celebri Castore o Iolao, perché chi si impegna con spese e fatiche fino alla vittoria merita di essere affiancato ai valorosi che hanno meritato la lode dei poeti.’ Cf. Race’s Loeb translation. 51 Pace Gentili (n. 45), 53 n. 25: ‘[è] inutile dire che non v’è alcun rapporto tra “l’inno di Castore” della Ismitica 1 e il Castoreion della Pitica 2, e tuttavia il confronto tra i due è divenuto quasi topico’. 52 For extensive references and discussion see Privitera (n. 50), 143. 53 See e.g. [Plut.] De mus. 1140C; Plut. Lyc. 22. Cf. Thuc. 5.70 for Spartan use of music in military contexts. Note also Σ Pyth. 2.128 on the enoplion nomos and cultic significance of the Castoreion. 54 Lloyd-Jones (n. 49), 123 and Kirkwood (n. 43), 154 see a reference to music; Gentili et al. (n. 4), 392 to metre. For the dispute over the question of links between metres and modes (i.e. the supposition that a piece in Aeolic metres must have been accompanied by the Aeolian mode), see e.g. Most (n. 39), 100 n. 26 and Prauscello (n. 1), with extensive bibliography. 55 ‘String’ is the basic meaning of χορδή,asatOd. 21.407 in the simile of the lyre player tuning his instrument by wrapping the string around a peg: ὡς ὅτ’ ἀνὴρ φόρμιγγος ἐπιστάμɛνος καὶἀοιδῆς | ῥηϊδίως ἐτάνυσσɛ νέῳ πɛρὶ κόλλοπι χορδήν. Cf. Hymn. Hom. Merc. 51. The technical sense of ‘note’ is not attested before Pindar. The distinction between ‘string’ and ‘note’ is however, in a sense, a false one, because each string was tuned to a single note and because lyre players did not manipulate the strings in order to obtain a variety of pitches from each, as for instance modern gui- tarists do. These tunings described the limit of the lyre’s pitch range. Thus each ‘string’ was a ‘note’. Nevertheless, it is notable that χορδή and its compounds are rare in Pindar; Pyth. 2.69 is our only use of the word itself, and the only use of a related compound is Nem. 10.21 ɛὔχορδον ἔγɛιρɛ λύραν. Pindar never uses χορδή or related words to describe wind instruments: cf. e.g. [Ol. 5.19]; Ol. 7.11–12; 10.94; Nem. 3.79. For Pindar’s use of sound terms see M. Kaimio, ‘Characterization of sound in early Greek literature’, Societas Scientiarum Fennica 53 (1977), 146–62. 56 So Schroeder (n. 43), 21 citing Ol. 10.94; A. Puech, Pindare (Paris, 1931), 45 translates ‘reçois-le avec faveur, en l’honneur de la cithare aux septs notes’; Slater (n. 40), 542bα interprets χάριν as acc. sing. used as a preposition (citing e.g. Ol. 10.94; Isthm. 4.72); Gentili et al. (n. 4), EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 49 highlighting the instrumental transposition at work in Pindar’s composition; whereas the Castoreion is normally an aulos piece, or rather a version of it, here it has become ‘a grace of the phorminx with its seven notes’, although accompaniment utilizing both instruments cannot be ruled out. These lines, then, have a threefold musicological significance. They signal the use of the Castoreion as part of the rhythmical and melodic texture of the poem, and more importantly draw attention to the details of the musical transposition that the poem enacts. Whereas the Castoreion was normally played on auloi, here a variation on it is being played on the phorminx. To this might be added the supposition that the Castoreion was normally played in the Dorian mode, and thus that Pindar’s appropriation of it may have involved a modal alteration, but this is far from secure.57 As in the case of Pythian 12, it is possible to argue that Pindar’s use of a nomos as part of an epinician has left traces in the rhythmical structure of the text. Pollux 4.78 informs us that the Castoreion was played ὑπὸ τὸν ἐμβατήριον ῥυθμόν, an anapaestic rhythm, as a passage from Valerius Maximus makes clear.58 I suggest that the anapaestic character of several of the verses in Pythian 2 is evidence of Pindar’s use of the Castoreion. The rhythmical character of a text alone is not sufficient grounds for positing such a connection (all the D/e odes, for instance, could be described as anapaestic in character), but in the case of Pythian 2 the anapaestic rhythms and the reference to τὸ Καστόρɛιον discussed above are mutually supportive. Furthermore, if we posit for the performance of the Castoreion at Sparta a fairly simple rhythmical structure based on the anapaest, a character necessitated by its use as a marching piece, we can see in Pythian 2 an integration of this rhythm into a much more complex structure.59 Comparison can be made with PMG 856 and 857, which are Spartan marching songs in anapaestic rhythm. The Castoreion would presumably have formed the melody for these pieces.

ἄγɛτ’ ὦ Σπάρτας ɛὐάνδρου κοῦροι πατέρων πολιητᾶν, λαιᾶιμὲν ἴτυν προβάλɛσθɛ, δόρυ δ’ ɛὐτόλμως πάλλοντɛς, μὴ φɛιδόμɛνοι τᾶςζωᾶς οὐ γὰρ πάτριον τᾶι Σπάρται.(PMG 856)

392 also take χάριν as being in apposition and translate ‘dono, gioia, cosa gradita’. The prepositional reading gives poor sense; the recipient being asked to welcome the song ‘in honour of/for the sake of the lyre’ involves a quasi-personification of the instrument not found elsewhere (Pyth. 1.1–12 being an obvious exception, although there the emphasis is on the phorminx’s powers and their effects, not on the response of a human audience). Most economical is Carey (n. 43), 48 who cites Schroeder criticiz- ing the prepositional reading on the grounds that the position of the preposition, before the genitive, is unexampled, and reads χάριν in apposition as ‘gracious offering’, ‘beautiful gift’. The sense high- lights the transposition of the Castoreion melody to the phorminx. For the meaning, cf. Ol. 7.5. 57 We are not explicitly told that the Castoreion was played in the Dorian mode; given its place of origin this might seem likely, but see E. Csapo, ‘The politics of the New Music’, in P. Murray and P. Wilson (edd.), Music and the Muses (Oxford, 2004), 216 for the conventionality of such ethnic labels. 58 Val. Max. 2.6.2 eiusdem civitatis exercitus non ante ad dimicandum descendere solebat quam tibiae concentu et anapaesti pedis modulo cohortationis calorem animo traxissent. Cf. Barker (n. 6), 232 n. 168 and also Ath. 630f on the link between Spartan embateria and the anapaestic poems of Tyrtaeus; cf. Dio Chrys. 2.59. Note also Plut. Lyc. 22 on the playing of the Castoreion immediately before the embaterios paean. See further on the embaterios rhythm Polyb. 4.20.10; Polyaen. 1.10. Cf. Barker (n. 6), 234–5 on the anapaestic Ares nomos. 59 Cf. Prauscello (n. 1), 18 n. 106. 50 TOM PHILLIPS

ἄγɛτ’ ὦ Σπάρτας ἔνοπλοι κοῦροι ποτὶ τὰν Ἄρɛως κίνασιν.(PMG 857)

In both of these pieces the anapaestic metron is the basic unit of composition, and the rhythm is relatively simple. Particularly notable in 856 is the caesura falling after the second biceps in every line, giving a markedly repetitive feel and suitable for singing while marching.60 In the case of Pythian 2, however, the use of anapaestic rhythm is more complex. I shall now discuss the rhythmical character of the verses most important to our argument, as well as the significance of the metrical similarities, often noted, between Pythian 2, Olympian 1 and Nemean 3. Particularly important are P2s3 and s4:

P2s3: ––uu– uu– uu––u – P2s4: u u – uu– uu– u – uu– uu– u – P2s3 3 ὔμμιν τόδɛ τᾶν λιπαρᾶν ἀπὸ Θηβᾶν φέρων 11 ἔνθ’ ἅρματα πɛισιχάλινα καταζɛυγνύῃ 27 Ἥρας ὅτ’ ἐράσσατο, τὰνΔιὸς ɛὐναὶ λάχον 35 ɛὐναὶ δὲ παράτροποι ἐς κακότατ’ ἀθρόαν 51 δɛλφῖνα, καὶὑψιφρόνων τιν’ ἔκαμψɛ βροτῶν 59 ἤδη κτɛάτɛσσί τɛ καὶ πɛρὶ τιμᾷ λέγɛι 75 οἷα ψιθύρων παλάμαις ἕπɛτ’ αἰɛὶ βροτῷ 83 οὕ οἱ μɛτέχω θράσɛος. φίλον ɛἴη φιλɛῖν

Itsumi comments as follows on the metrical shape of these lines: ‘[a]s in the five dactylic verses of O9e … word-end between two shorts within these sequences is, in general, avoided. As a result the rhythm feels square. We may imagine that a certain solemnity was given by this movement.’61 To this may be added that the anapaestic character of 3, 27, 35, 59, 75 and 83 is strengthened by word break falling after the first two long syllables. Sentence end after the second anapaest in 83 reinforces this effect.

P2s4 4 μέλος ἔρχομαι ἀγγɛλίαν τɛτραορίας ἐλɛλίχθονος 12 σθένος ἵππιον, ὀρσοτρίαιναν ɛὐρυβίαν καλέων θɛόν 28 πολυγαθέɛς· ἀλλά νιν ὕβρις ɛἰς ἀυάταν ὑπɛράφανον 36 ἔβαλον· ποτὶ καὶ τὸν ἵκοντ’· ἐπɛὶ νɛφέλᾳ παρɛλέξατο 52 ἑτέροισι δὲ κῦδος ἀγήραον παρέδωκ’· ἐμὲ δὲ χρɛών 60 ἕτɛρόν τιν’ ἀν’ Ἑλλάδα τῶν πάροιθɛ γɛνέσθαι ὑπέρτɛρον 76 ἄμαχον κακὸν ἀμφοτέροις διᾱβολιᾶν ὑποφάτιɛς 84 ποτὶ δ’ ἐχθρὸν ἅτ’ ἐχθρὸς ἐὼν λύκοιο δίκαν ὑποθɛύσομαι

Again, the anapaests are emphasised by word break after the third anapaest in 4, 36, 60, 76 and 84: 36 is particularly notable in this regard, having caesura after the first and

60 For rhythmical analysis see West (n. 2), 53–4. 61 K. Itsumi, Pindaric Metre (Oxford, 2009), 210. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 51 third anapaests. Another notable feature is that word break precedes the final u u – u – in all but one of the verses (4, 12, 28, 36, 52, 76 and 82), and is augmented at 52 by caesura. While the above lines may be regarded as strongly anapaestic, there are other verses where the deployment of anapaestic rhythms is less marked. P2s6, which Itsumi notates ––uuuu– u – uu– uu– and analyses as – e2 u D, is unique in Pindar, being the only time that D occurs as the second unit after link anceps. Word break preceding – uu– uu – predominates, as at 6, 14, 30, 54 and 78, but a more anapaestic feel is given by word break preceding the final two anapaests at 38 and 62. Also notable is the form u u u – u u –, which occurs at P2s2, 7, e1a, 2 and 3. At P2e1a Itsumi analyses it as a reversed glyconic, in the other cases as a resolved reverse dodrans. There are only ten verses in Pindar in which reverse dodrans with resolved initial position, as analysed by Itsumi, occurs, four of them in Pythian 2.62 In total, the phrase u u u – uu– occurs twenty six times in Pindar, six of them in Pythian 2, more than in any other poem (there are three in Pyth. 6, two in Pyth.5 and four in Nem. 7).63 Furthermore, the rhythms of P2e1a–3: these are the only examples in Pindar of expanded aeolic cola followed by reverse dodrans,64 and at P2e2 word break always precedes the phrase u u u – uu–, although the same phrase does not receive the same emphasis in the other lines. Such cola, while capable of being analysed as unrelated to anapaestic rhythms, would easily have lent themselves to conjunction with a melody based on anapaestic phrases.65 According to my argument, Pindar’s rhythmical appropriation of the Castoreion for Pythian 2 involves a complex expansion of anapaestic rhythms, and the combination of these with other non-anapaestic elements. There is a certain contrast between the musical and rhythmical techniques at work in the two poems I have examined; whereas Pythian 12 involved the transposition of a sequential mimetic piece into a highly formalized monostrophic structure, a transposition which must have involved a certain simpli- fication of the mimetic aspects of the nomos, Pythian 2 works through an expansion and complication of the piece on which it draws. This is particularly obvious with regard to the long sequence in single short movement found at P2s1 (uu u uu u – u – u – uuuu–), which obviously has a character very different from that of the anapaestic movements analysed above. A similar single short movement is found at O1s8, one of several metrical similarities between the two poems; there are also parallels between Pythian 2 and Nemean 3.66 These parallels raise the question of possible melodic links between the poems; if the melody of Pythian 2

62 At P2s2 and 7, e2 and 3. The other occurrences are O1e6b; P5e3 and 6; N6s3; N7e2; N7s4. 63 See Itsumi (n. 61), 39–40 for the similarities between reversed dodrans and the first part of a resolved glyconic, and 31 with 32 n. 55 for statistics of aeolic base usage and a full list of u u u occur- ring as base. 64 Although cf. the combination rdod e2 at P10s4 and N3e3. See Itsumi (n. 61), 218. 65 Gentili (n. 45) argues that the scholia are right to identify the Castoreion with the hyporchema they cite (fr. 105), and argues on metrical grounds that fr. 106 also belongs to this poem. The frag- ments do not offer sufficient evidence for his taking them as ‘serio-comic’ ( pace e.g. pp. 54–5 his reading of the Scythians in fr. 105.4–5). He notes the metrical similarities between frr. 105–6 and Pyth. 2 (for which cf. Ferrari [n. 47], 233), but does not dwell on their shared anapaestic character: it is possible on these grounds to hypothesize use of the Castoreion melody for both Pyth. 2 and the hyporchema, but given the exiguous remains of the latter this must remain highly speculative. 66 See I. Pfeijffer, Three Aeginetan Odes of Pindar (Leiden, 1999), 409; Itsumi (n. 61), 209–10, and 434–6 for continuous single short movements in the epinicians. Particularly notable are the similarities between P2s4 and N3e4, and between the double short movement at O1s2 and the verses analysed above. 52 TOM PHILLIPS drew on that of the Castoreion, did Olympian 1 and Nemean 3 take their melodies from the same source? While there is little evidence to support such a claim in the case of Nemean 3, a reasonably strong case can be made for saying that Olympian 1 did so; as well as the rhythmical similarities between the poems, they were both written for the same victor, and there is the musical reference at Olympian 1.100–3 ἐμὲ δὲ στɛφανῶσαι | κɛῖνον ἱππίῳ νόμῳ | Αἰοληΐδι μολπᾷ | χρή. Some commentators have taken ἱππίῳ νόμῳ to be synonymous with the Castoreion, on the grounds of Castor’s association with horses. The phrase could, however, mean nothing more specific than ‘a song for an equestrian victory’. The rhythmical structure of Olympian 1 is not as markedly anapaestic as that of Pythian 2,67 but this might be indicative of a more oblique rhythmical and melodic appropriation of the Castoreion. As a piece of Spartan music with a strong military resonance and a link, through the figure of Castor, with horsemanship, the Castoreion would certainly have fitted thematically with the myth of Pelops.68 Use of the Castoreion is possible for both poems, but more likely in the case of Olympian 1.

THE POLITICS OF PERFORMANCE

Commentators have often noted the prominence of the political aspect of Pythian 2, but attention to the use of the Castoreion allows us to approach this element of the poem from a different angle. First, I want to address anew the vexed question of unity.69 Approaching Pythian 2 as a melodic and rhythmical structure as well as a textual one allows us a fresh perspective on this issue. The recurring rhythmical patterns, and a recurring melody (varied according to pitch accent from stanza to stanza), not to mention the recurrent movements of the dancers,70 would have endowed the lexical movements of the text in performance with a strong sense of continuity. A musical and rhythmical unity cannot be seen as equivalent to or substitutive for the kind of unities that scholars have often sought to find in Pindaric texts – those of theme, motif and occasion – but an awareness of music and rhythm does allow us to see the text as being marked throughout by these aspects. It would surely be important for Pythian 2 if, for instance, the same melodic structure was employed for the address to Syracuse and Hiero at 1–8 and for the criticism of slanderers at 73–80. The melodic frame encourages associations between the two passages in spite of their lexical differ- ences. The melody would have had different resonances in each case; in the former it could be seen as reinforcing Hiero’s glory, in the latter as in contrast with the vain actions of the slanderers (76–7). The production of meaning is an interplay of text and music wherein each element marks the other with its associations. Why does Pindar draw such specific attention to his use of τὸ Καστόρɛιον δ’ ἐν Αἰολίδɛσσι χορδαῖς? The reference could be seen as a technical aggrandizement, drawing attention to the text’s (and the composer’s) musical sophistication. The reference to the Castoreion at 69 is metaphorical; Pythian 2 is not the Castoreion itself, but an expansion and recontextualization of it. The apparent directness of the reference

67 See e.g. Itsumi (n. 61), 141–53 for metrical analysis. 68 So A. Köhnken, ‘Pindar as innovator: Poseidon Hippios and the relevance of the Pelops story in Olympian 1’, CQ 27 (1974), 204. 69 See e.g. Bowra (n. 39), 77–80; Most (n. 39), 60–1. 70 On the role of dance in general see W. Mullen, Choreia: Pindar and Dance (Princeton, 1982). EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 53 paradoxically stresses the indirectness of Pindar’s musical appropriation, while also bringing the Castoreion’s social and mythical associations to the fore. The reference also has a role in mediating between, and highlighting, the contrast figured in the text between praise poetry and the poetry of blame, of which Archilochus is the prime example.71 By drawing on the Castoreion for the musical and rhythmical structure of Pythian 2, Pindar associates his composition with the military and social excellence of the Spartans and Castor’s role as a mythical paradigm of horsemanship, and the expli- cit reference to the Castoreion qua musical schema balances the use of Archilochus as a negative exemplum and the refusal of κακηγορία at 53–6. The musical and rhythmical aspect also resonates with the use of Cinyras and Ixion as exempla.72 Cinyras is deployed at 15–17 as a positive foil for Hiero, as a figure who has won the praises of his citizens (15–16) because of his excellence and his close relations with the gods (16–17) and is presented as a paradigm of correct reciprocal relations.73 The role of the Castoreion melody in the poem enables a further set of associations, between Castor and Cinyras and between Castor and Hiero. There is also an implicit contrast between the melody’s marking the text with the association of Castor the paradigmatic horseman and the Centaurs, whose physical perversion is a correlative to Ixion’s crimes (42–9), and which offers a counterpoint to Hiero’s divinely sanctioned horse taming (7–8).74 The obliqueness of these links figures the laudandus against the referential and associative capaciousness of the performance. The melos also has a role to play in the criticism of slanderers at 76–80. There is controversy over the particular referents of these lines; I take them to refer to political tensions at Syracuse generally, or the possibility of them, rather than to any particular individuals.75 The poem not only advances statements about such things, engaging in an argument about different types of citizenship and advancing a model of the ideal citizen at 81–8, where the value of honest straightforward communication is stressed in opposition to the slanderers (ἐν πάντα δὲ νόμον ɛὐθύγλωσσος ἀνὴρ προφέρɛι, 86), but also, by means of its disposition of text and music, presents itself as a rebuttal of social disharmony, as the interplay of aesthetic elements performs a figural cohesion. The performance is an image of the cohesion that the slanderers threaten. The use of the Castoreion in Pythian 2 should also be seen against the background of Hiero’s use of population relocations as a means of securing and reinforcing his power, and the related deployment of doricizing elements in other cultural productions of this period. Particularly relevant here is the mention of Hiero moving settlers from Syracuse and the Peloponnese into Naxos and Aetna in the mid 470s.76 This is taken up by

71 On the role of Archilochus in the poem, see e.g. A. Miller, ‘Pindar, Archilochus and Hieron in P. 2.52–56’, TAPhA 111 (1981), 135–43; and, for the opposition between praise and blame, Most (n. 39), 88–9; G. Held, ‘Archilochos’ ἀμηχανία: Pindar, Pythian 2.52–56 and Isthmian 4.1–3’, Eranos 101 (2003), 30–48. These readings follow Lloyd-Jones (n. 49), and K. Crotty, ‘Pythian 2 and conventional language in the epinicians’, Hermes 108 (1980), 1–12 in dismissing the view propounded by e.g. Bowra (n. 39), 66–92 and T. Gantz, ‘Pindar’s second Pythian: the myth of Ixion’, Hermes 106 (1978), 14–26 that Pyth. 2 is an attack on Hiero for ingratitude, Hiero having chosen Bacchylides over Pindar to commemorate his chariot victory in 468. 72 For which, see e.g. Most (n. 39), 73–86. 73 See B. Currie, Pindar and the Cult of Heroes (Oxford, 2005) for a detailed analysis, and the view that Cinyras’ status as a recipient of hero cult prefigures a similar status for Hiero. 74 So Most (n. 39), 85–6. 75 See Gentili et al. (n. 4), ad loc. 76 Diod. Sic. 11.49, with Σ Pyth. 1.120a. See in general N. Luraghi, Tirannidi archaiche in Sicilia e Magna Grecia (Florence, 1994), 335–68. See N. Demand, Urban Relocation in Archaic and Classical 54 TOM PHILLIPS

Pindar’s dorianizing figuration of Aetna in Pythian 1: τῷ πόλιν κɛίναν θɛοδμάτῳ σὺν ἐλɛυθɛρίᾳ | Ὑλλίδος στάθμας Ἱέρων ἐν νόμοις ἔκτισσɛ (61–2). While we may not want to accept the argument that this is a specific legal reference to the Aetnaean con- stitution being based on that of Sparta,77 the text certainly works to affirm Aetna’s Dorian, and specifically Spartan, character and figures Sparta as paradigmatic of political and social orderliness.78 A similar dynamic is at work in Pythian 2. Although the situation is complicated by the lack of certainty about the date and location of the performance, Pindar’s use of the Castoreion may be seen as a musical enactment of Hiero’s validation of Doric institutions, operative at both mythical and the socio-historical levels. The poem’s musical and rhythmical elements, however, do not lend themselves to being reduced to a straightforward correlative of a given set of socio-political conditions, but make better sense as an idealized event which performs an oblique and reconfigurative intervention into those conditions. Two aspects of the poem are of car- dinal importance in this respect. First, the use of music as part of a performance to pro- ject an idealized figuration of socio-political harmony;79 this is not only a formal aspect of the poem, but would surely also have been operative in terms of the social circum- stances of the performance. The socio-political significance of a group of Syracusan citizens singing a modified version of a Dorian melody as part of a strongly political poem would surely not have been lost on an audience. Second, however, there is a more purely formal level of musical operation which complicates the performance’s social resonances and resists allegorization as a straightforward ideological representation. As has been often noted,80 Pythian 2 is, even by the standards of epinicians, a problematically multivalent text, involving sharp changes of tone and lexis and deploy- ing a wide range of rhetorical tropes, from conventional invocations and myths to the referencing of Archilochean animal fables.81 One effect of this lexical and narrative multivalence is to dramatize the role of music as a mediating and harmonizing force, whose framing of the text links its different aspects and forms a totality, the coherence of which is irreducible to, and parallel to, the textual. The poem’s rhythmical and musical structure becomes a referent of the shifts and disjunctions of the text. Another related aspect of the combination of music and text is its highlighting of the singular disposition

Greece (Bristol, 1990), 45–58 on population relocations under the tyrants; further K. Lomas, ‘Tyrants and the polis: migration, identity and urban development in Sicily’, in S. Lewis (ed.), Ancient Tyranny (Edinburgh, 2006), 95–118 and, on Deinomenid self-representation, S. Harrell, ‘Synchronicity: the local and the Panhellenic within Sicilian tyranny’, in ibid., 125–33, with Luraghi (this note), 354–68. 77 As argued by E. Kirsten, ‘Ein politisches Programm in Pindars erstem pythischen Gedicht’, RhM 91 (1941), 58–71; contra Gentili et al. (n. 4), ad loc. 78 See C. Dougherty, The Poetics of Colonization (Oxford, 1993), 93–7onPyth. 1 as a colonializ- ing discourse and ead., ‘Linguistic colonization in Aeschylus’ Aetnaeae’, GRBS 32 (1991), 119–32 for the role of Aeschylus’ Aetnaeae in the foundation of Aetna. Cf. C. Brillante, ‘La musica e il canto nella Pitica 1 di Pindaro’, QUCC 41 (1992), 7–21 on the role of music as a textual figuration in Pyth. 1. See pp. 10–11 for his analysis of the effects of music as described at Pyth. 1.1–12 and pp. 16–21 for possible Spartan elements in the depiction of the Muses. 79 Cf. J. Péron, ‘Pindare et Hiéron dans la IIe Pythique’, REG 87 (1974), 27–8, at 56 on the ideal- ization of self-knowledge. 80 e.g. L. Woodbury, ‘The epilogue of Pindar’s Second Pythian’, TAPhA 76 (1945), 11. The obser- vations of e.g. Lloyd-Jones (n. 49) and Crotty (n. 71) that Pyth. 2 contains no elements which cannot be seen as variations of standard epinician tropes, while correct, should not disguise the oddness of their deployment. 81 For which, see T. Hubbard, ‘Hieron and the ape in Pindar, Pythian 2.72–73’, TAPhA 120 (1999), 76–7. EPINICIAN VARIATIONS 55 of different cultural materials which the performance engages, stressing the status of the performance as a unique cultural event. The performance both comments on the political and preserves, or attempts to preserve, a formalized distance from it. Its musico-poetic figuration of social harmony insists on its own singular status, while also arrogating to itself, by means of its gnomic statements, its references to the past and its musical appro- priations, a wider cultural authority.

CONCLUSIONS

The nature of the evidence makes it difficult to extrapolate from these two poems to more general conclusions about Pindar’s musical practice. Did Pindar, as I have argued he did in Pythians 2 and 12, draw on particular melê in other compositions, utilizing their aesthetic, cultic and social associations? I think such a scenario likely, and that in the cases of Olympian 1 and perhaps also Olympian 7 and Nemean 3 there are grounds for hypothesizing such situations. In conclusion, however, I would like to see how the arguments that I have put forward throw light on a difficult passage in Ps.-Plutarch concerning Pindar’s musical style, and help us to a better overall impression of the aesthetics of Pindaric performance. In describing the tendencies of the ‘ancient’ composers, he makes the following, perhaps rather surprising, statement:

τῇ γὰρπɛρὶ τὰς ῥυθμοποιίας ποικιλίᾳ οὔσῃ ποικιλωτέρᾳἐχρήσαντο οἱ παλαιοί· ἐτίμων γοῦν τὴν ῥυθμικὴν ποικιλίαν, καὶ τὰ πɛρὶ τὰς κρουσματικὰςδὲ διαλέκτους τότɛ ποικιλώτɛρα ἦν· οἱ μὲνγὰρνῦν φιλομɛλɛῖς, οἱ δὲ τότɛ φιλόρρυθμοι.

The forms of rhythmic composition used by ancient composers were more complex, since they had a great respect for rhythmic complexity, and their patterns of instrumental idiom were also more complicated; for nowadays people’s interest is in the melody, whereas in the past they concentrated on the rhythm.82

The difficulty of the passage stems from its statement that οἱ παλαιοί were rhythmically more complex (ποικιλωτέρᾳ) than more recent composers. This would seem like an odd statement given the obvious rhythmical complexities of Timotheus and the other ‘New Musicians’. The sentence is better understood if the opposition is taken as being between the structural complexity of Pindar and his ilk, with regard to their use of complex antistrophic metres, and the looser rhythmical patterns of later composers.83 What I want to emphasize in the light of my discussion of Pindar’s use of the Athena nomos and the Castoreion is the opposition οἱ μὲνγὰρνῦν φιλομɛλɛῖς, οἱ δὲ τότɛ φιλόρρυθμοι. Such a characterization can be seen in terms of the adaptation by poets such as Stesichorus, Aeschylus and Pindar of relatively simple melodic patterns based on nomoi to complex rhythmical structures.84 I would suggest that Ps.-Plutarch’s focus on the ‘rhythmical elaborateness’ (ἡ πɛρὶ τὰς ῥυθμοποιίας ποικιλία) of the older poets reflects an awareness at some point early in the musicological tradition of such

82 [Plut.] De mus. 1138B–C. 83 Contrast Barker (n. 6), 227 n. 140, who sees the contrast as between Pindar, Simonides, etc. and later fourth-century composers, the ‘New Musicians’ being missed out of the narrative. 84 Cf. Ar. Ran. 1249–50. Euripides criticizes Aeschylus as κακὸν | μɛλοποιὸν ὄντα καὶ ποιοῦντα ταὔτ’ ἀɛί with the interpretation of Danielewicz (n. 8), 139–40 that what is being stressed here is the repetitiousness of Aeschylus’ melodies. 56 TOM PHILLIPS compositional practices. Moreover, the phrase τὰ πɛρὶ τὰς κρουσματικὰςδὲ διαλέκτους τότɛ ποικιλώτɛρα ἦν can be explained by Pindar’s frequent reference to the combination of instruments (strings and auloi) as part of the musical accompaniment. Taking τὰς κρουσματικὰς … διαλέκτους to refer to such combinations makes sense given the technical difficulties which must have confronted performers and composers seeking to coordinate the roles of different instruments. Given the stress that he lays on multiple instrumentation, this may well have been another area in which Pindar innovated; the passage from Ps.-Plutarch provides a trace of the responses to such innovations. Such conclusions gives us a fresh perspective on Pindar’s place within the musico-poetic landscape of his period, and particularly on his innovative use of traditional, or semi-traditional, material.85 It gives us a picture of a poet keenly aware of the potential of particular types of musical accompaniment to convey certain cultural and political associations, and of a composer strikingly innovative in his rhythmical recontextualizing of melodic forms.

Corpus Christi College, Oxford TOM PHILLIPS [email protected]

85 This emphasis on Pindar responding creatively to contemporary developments aligns with D’Angour (n. 2) on Pindar’s validation of Lasus’ reforms of dithyrambic performance, followed and expanded by Porter (n. 2), and also with Prauscello (n. 1).