Patrick Crowley (Stanford University)
Since the early 2000s, classical archaeologists such as Vinzenz Brinkmann have made tremendous strides in the forensic study and reconstruction of polychromy in ancient sculpture. Many of these reconstructions are physical; others are virtual; still others are a combination of the two. What they all share in common, however, is a processual grasping at the “truth” through recursive chains of technical operations. Multiple versions of these reconstructions make competing claims for historical authenticity and scientific objectivity, proliferating in both scholarship and the popular press alike as evidence-based hypotheses. The goal of this research is to reveal the historical phenomenology of polychrome sculpture in its ancient context. Predictably, the response to these endeavors, both among the general public and specialists alike, is some admixture of shock, horror, and bemusement.
This paper examines the work of the contemporary Italian artist Francesco Vezzoli, who turns this approach to polychromy on its head, fashioning colorful fantasias that look strikingly different than the already jarring reconstructions of Brinkmann and others. Rather than replicating ancient sculpture, Vezzoli purchases actual antiquities on the market that he uses as his raw material. Consulting with leading experts in the field, Vezzoli establishes whether any ancient polychromy can in fact be detected on the sculptural surface. More often than not, these heads, torsos, and other fragments have been overcleaned over the centuries, and in many cases treated with acid washes to achieve the pristine whiteness that Winckelmann so revered—notoriously so, as exposed by the liberatory mission of anti-racist scholarship. For Vezzoli, the whiteness of these sculptural fragments offers a blank canvas, an invitation to imagine. At the same time, however, Vezzoli ironically enlists the scientificity of classical archaeology to support his artistic vision (which spans a considerable range between plausible and flagrant fictions). In a long running series, “Antique not Antique,” Vezzoli stages polychrome interventions with ancient sculpture, picking up where the conservator leaves off. A marble foot gets a pedicure with real nail polish; a marble portrait of a Roman lady is repainted in shades of black and white to resemble Joan Crawford. This is Roman art history as camp and kitsch in one: Vezzoli’s polychromy effectively queers time, resisting what Elizabeth Freeman has delightfully coined “chrononormativity.”
At the same time, I want to suggest that looking at Vezzoli’s work opens up new pathways for traditional research in ancient polychromy. Key to my argument is Alois Riegl’s famous distinction between historical-value and age-value (and it opposite, newness-value, a triumph over natural forces); whereas the former is concerned with the preservation, conservation, and documentation of monuments, all of which is in the bailiwick of experts, the latter, baldly stated, is concerned with degradation and decay; it can be seen by anyone, even laypeople. What “bothers” us about ancient polychromy, I argue, is not just, or even primarily, that it offends our modern sensibilities. Rather, it has to do with a clash of historical and newness-value in the reconstructions themselves.