Phidias was also summoned to Olympia. The treasures accumulated in the temple from the offerings of all Greece, permitted him to execute a work which surpassed that of the Parthenon. On a throne of cedar wood, inlaid with gold and ivory, ebony, and precious stones, and covered with bas-reliefs and paintings, Zeus was majestically seated. His thick hair and beard were of gold; of gold and ivory was the Victory he carried in his right hand, in token that his will was always triumphant; of gold, too, mingled with other metals was the royal sceptre surmounted by an eagle, which he held in his left hand. On the head was the crown of olive leaves, which was given to the victors in the games, but, as was fitting, that of the god was gold, as well as his sandals and his mantle, which revealed his naked breast in ivory. His visage had the virile beauty proper to the father of gods and men; his tranquil gaze was indeed that of the all-powerful whom no passion stirs and behind whose broad forehead should reside the vast intelligence of the orderer of worlds. Placed at the back of the
Minerva
(From a Greek vase)
The Olympian Jupiter shared the fate of the Minerva of the Parthenon; he was too rich for an age grown too barbarous and beliefs too hostile. It is said that in 393 Theodosius had it transported to Constantinople, where it perished some years later in one of the great conflagrations that so often visited the new capital of the Empire; it is not likely that it was so long respected. Already in the second century Lucian laughs at this “honest fellow, the exterminator of giants, who remained seated so quietly while brigands shaved his golden hair.”
Other towns besides Athens and Olympia had chryselephantine statues. Costly materials were used for the Juno at Argos, the Æsculapius of Epidaurus, and others.
Phidias did not confine himself to representing gods, that is to say to making colossi; with his own hands, or more often through those who worked under his direction, he lavished less divine sculpture on the frieze, the metopes, and the double pediment of the temple, the figures of which, as seen from below, do not appear to be of more than ordinary height. Those which he chiselled on Minerva’s shield and on her sandals, were still smaller. The magnificent fragments which remain to us from the two pediments, Demeter and Core, Iris and Cephisus, the Charities or Fates, the Hercules or Theseus, are the works of his school and we may say of his mind. In spite of their mutilations, these marbles, like those of the Victory untying her sandal, may be ranged beside, if not above, the most glorious creations of Renaissance sculpture in the purity of the style and the calm serenity of the figures, which neither have their limbs twisted in violent action nor their brows overcharged with thought, as happened when statuary strove to rival painting. What a puissant life is in these divinities tranquilly seated in the pediments, and how calm on their fiery horses are the riders in the Panathenaic procession! Later on the school of grace and voluptuousness will appear, with an Athenian, Praxiteles, as its chief; still later, passion will agitate the marble: then the decay of art begins—such a drama as the “Farnese bull”[46] depicts may not fittingly be presented in stone.
It is to the eternal honour of Phidias that he finally broke with hieratic art, whose influence is still traceable in the beautiful statues of Ægina, with their admirably studied but lifeless shapes and grinning heads exhibiting, even in pain and death, the same idiotic smile. The great artist sought the beauty which is the spiritual essence of things, whether it be in the soul seen through the body; or nature contemplated in her most harmonious expansion; and this ideal beauty he realised without making the effort visible. This is supreme art; for there is no grandeur without simplicity.
Greek Lyres
PAINTING, MUSIC, ETC.
If the description in the