Geoffrey Nathan

The Vienna Dioscorides’ dedicatio to Anicia Juliana: A Usurpation of Imperial Patronage?

Since Otto von Premerstein’s first examination of the famous Vienna Dioscorides manuscript in 1903, the tome has invited comment and questions from several generations of scholars.1 It is a unique and lushly illustrated manuscript of the pharmacology of the ancient doctor Dioscorides, the Materia Medica, and in 1997 it was one of the first items placed on UNESCO’s Memory of the World Register. Although nearly 500 folios in length, for the purposes of this paper, I want to focus specifically on the dedicatory image to the early Byzantine aristocrat, Anicia Juliana, found on the 6th folio verso (fig. 1). As the earliest surviving miniature of a real person, Anicia Juliana and particularly the rich iconography surrounding her has resulted in over a century of speculation about its meaning and purpose (beyond its dedicatory function). Up through the 1990s, many scholars have viewed the work as distinctively apolitical and indeed essentially private in character. Alexander Demandt and Lyn Rodley, for example, see the aristocratic lady as an educated woman well versed in the intellectual and cultural traditions of paideia. And as recently as 1997, Carmelo Capizzi in his biography of Anicia Juliana argued that the image displays little more than a noblewoman interested in patronising the arts.2 Twelve years ago, I, too, speculated on its meaning at an APA panel dealing with patronage in . 3 I argued that the piece had important political implications, and represented a quite public display of her role as a patron par excellence. Indeed, I suggested that the artist depicted the aristocrat not only in an idealised form, but that she was quite purposely anthropomorphised into the quality of Patronage itself. I based this assessment on three essential points. First, that the artist illustrated Anicia as an ideal patron, doing those things that a woman of her class and breeding should. Second, that her dress and physical placement, especially when compared to certain iconographic topoi found in late antique art, intimated certain imperial pretensions and thus suggested that Juliana was the most important patron in the Eastern Empire – a kind of benefactress ne plus ultra. Finally, I noted that the naturalistic figures attending Anicia, notably Megalopsychia (Magnanimity) and Phronesis (Prudence), combined with her curiously frontal, simplified, and almost artificially symmetrical face, transformed her entire being into Patronage personified. More recently, however, other scholars have taken the image’s meaning further. Athanasios Diamandopoulos writes at some length about the symbolism found in the

1 A. von Premerstein, “Anicia Juliana im Wiener Dioskorides-Kodex”, Jahrb. der kunsthist. Samml. 24 (1903), 105–124. 2 A. Demandt, Dei Spätantike. Römische Geschichte von Diocletian bis Justinian (Berlin 1989), 303; L. Rodley, and Architecture. An Introduction (Cambridge 1996); and Carmelo Capizzi, Anicia Giuliana, La committente c.463–c.528 (Editoriale Jaca Book: Milan 1997), 121–123; cf. K. Weitzmann, Late Antique and Early Byzantine Book Illumination (London 1977), 61. 3 G. Nathan, “Anicia Juliana, the Vienna Dioscurides’ Portrait, and the Idealized Patron”, paper delivered at the American Philological Association (Chicago 1997).

96 The Vienna Dioscorides’ dedicatio to Anicia Juliana portrait and argues that there are clear artistic references to Solomon and the First Temple.4 The comparison to Solomon had strong imperial overtones, and indeed later Anicia’s building of the church of Saint Polyeuktos and the emperor Justinian’s supposed response with the construction of Hagia Sophia, underscores a usurpation of imperial privilege, if not direct authority.5 Bente Killerich has more recently has gone further, and has in no uncertain terms argued that, to cite her conclusion directly

The image in the Vienna Dioscurides presents Anicia Juliana in purple and gold, with imperial diadem, enthroned like an emperor, distributing gold coins like an emperor and receiving proskynesis, as if she were an emperor. The dedication flatters Juliana with…three male virtues closely associated with ruler authority.6

Given that my earlier analysis is somewhat at odds with these more recent ones, it is worthwhile to once again examine the miniature in both its historical and artistic context and to respond to the more recent scholarship. While Killerich’s interpretation is almost certainly correct, at least in part, I think the image’s meaning and purpose is somewhat more ambiguous and complex, reflecting the peculiar life and status of arguably ’s most august citizen. Therefore, I intend to offer a somewhat modified proposal in attempting to assess the Anicia Juliana dedication. I want to begin where Killerich ended her article several years ago. In offering her final thoughts, she raised the quite salient questions of artist intention and audience. What were the purposes of this dedicatio? For what audience was it intended? Was the image made with Juliana’s knowledge or perhaps connivance? Killerich suggested in closing that, with or without Anicia’s assent, this was a particularly safe form of imperial expression, since the book by definition would have a limited audience. It certainly would not have had the visual prominence of an inscription, a commissioned church, or some piece of public artwork. It could be taken, in short, as a private caprice. This is undoubtedly true, but we must remember first that this was a show book. The richness and beauty of the craftwork – and this is suppositional – meant that it was likely to be seen, if not used, daily. David Wright has made similarly observations about the Codex Romanus Vergil from the mid-fifth century: the dimensions of the book, the visual quality of the images and the large, well-formed letters argue for presentation rather than consistent practical use.7 Under what circumstances the manuscript would have been viewed is even more speculative, although we know of display gospels being prominently displayed in monasteries in the Middle Ages. But apart from the issues of venue and audience, there are

4 A. Diamandopoulos., “Εἰκονογραφήση βυζαντινῶν ἰατρικῶν χειρογράφων”, in H. Arhweiler (ed.), Ἰατρικὰ βυζαντινὰ χειρόγραφα (Athens 1995), 71–168. My thanks to Dr. Vicki Douleveras- Panayatopolou for her help in translating this paper. 5 For a short summary of this controversy, see Joseph D. Alchermes, “Art and Architecture in the Age of Justinian”, in M. Maas (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to the Age of Justinian (Cambridge 2005), 343–375. See also B. Killerich, “‘Salomon, jeg har overgået dig!’ Anicia Julianas kirkebyggeri i Konsantinopel”, Kirke og Kultur 105 (2000), 117–127. 6 Killerich, “The Image of Anicia Juliana in the Vienna Dioscurides: Flattery or Appropriation of Imperial Imagery?”, Symbolae Osloenses 76 (2001), 169–190. 7 D. Wright, Codcillogical Notes on the Vergilius Romanus (Studi e Testi 345, Vatican City 1992), introduction and passim. Cf. idem, “The Persistence of Pagan Art Patronage in Fifth-Century Rome”, in I. Sevcenko and I. Hutter (eds), Studies in Honour of Cyril Mango presented to him on April 14, 1998 (Stuttgart 1998), 354–369; Wright here seems to imply that presentation copies applied to the Vergil Vaticanus as well.