Patronage of the Arts

In Byzantium

Powerful donors, pious patrons, and amateurs of science and literature—Byzantine men and women of every social class and status—played an important role in the development of the arts throughout the course of the Empire.

Although the importance of patronage of the arts and its social dimensions are incontestable, the definition of the phenomenon is neither univocal nor simple. Art historians differ as to the categorization of the patrons and the role they played in the artistic developments of their time[1]. The study of patronage as a phenomenon is mainly based on the interpretation of the works, but this reasoning doesn’t correspond with a simplified logical model or a theoretical one. Indeed, the exercise of patronage varied greatly, and very much depended on the profiles of the people involved and their economic and social status, their motivations and the patrons’ objectives—often not fully known—, and the means employed. Patronage of the arts required involvement in the realization of the works of art that went beyond a desire to acquire and possess them.

Changes aside, there are four clearly identifiable classes of patron: imperial, aristocratic, religious, and secular patrons. However, this classification, which corresponds with a basic social ladder, doesn’t exclude other categories across the social spectrum: female patronage, for example, comprised princesses and empresses, andGregory Pakourianos, who founded the Petritsoni Monastery (now the Bachkovo Monastery). Religious patronage was similar in nature to aristocratic patronage—when the patriarch was directly linked to the ruling authorities—and secular patronage, when it was exercised by the lower clergy in rural areas, who were particularly active during the Paleo-Christian and late Byzantine periods. widows, cloistered nuns, and secular women. Military men, high officials from the aristocracy, and junior officials adopted similar practices and patronized the same patron saints. Various foreigners, assimilated in the multi-cultural Byzantine Empire, are also noteworthy, most notably the Iberian,

Imperial patronage

Linked to the exercise of power and court culture, imperial patronage was exercised in all areas of artistic activity: Constantine gave the Empire a new capital in Constantinople and a new holy city in Jerusalem; Zeno backed up his religious policy by giving subventions to the shrines of Abu Mena in Egypt and Qalʿat al-Simʿān in Syria. The Emperor and builder Justinian became famous throughout the Empire for his military constructions, his charitable works, such as his famous cistern, and religious institutions such as the Basilica of St John and St Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, which combined religious vocation with defensive requirements. Imperial patronage continued during the iconoclastic period and flourished during the Macedonian dynasty: Basil I is an example of an emperor who revived the Empire by instituting a building programme; Constantine VII was at the centre of a dramatic artistic development that revived the spirit of the antique, particularly through arts of the book and works in ivory. A strategic part of ecclesiastic policy, imperial patronage was managed by the mystikos, an official who was assigned to this post from the twelfth century[2].

The arts were continually used by the Empire as powerful diplomatic tools: precious silks from imperial workshops, ivories, and works in gold were offered to ambassadors and allies of the Empire as gifts symbolizing its splendour and power; they were sometimes used to transmit a message adapted to a specific set of circumstances, as in the case of the Hungarian crown (a gift given by the Byzantine Emperor to the King of Hungary to celebrate the Byzantine–Hungarian alliance). Similarly, artists were sent beyond the Empire’s borders, to such places as the Saint Sophia CathedralManuel I Komnenos and the king of Jerusalem—provide a remarkable example of an ecumenical alliance. in Kiev and the Holy Land, where the mosaics in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem—realized under the joint patronage of

Aristocratic patronage

In the Paleo-Christian period, the Byzantine aristocracy didn’t endeavour to exercise patronage independently from the Emperor and the court. The competition between Anicia Juliana and Justinian, described in accounts relating to the construction of their respective churches—the Church of St. Polyeuctus and Hagia Sophia—shows that imperial patronage and that of prominent aristocratic families were exercised in a similar fashion.

Despite the changes in Byzantine society after the iconoclastic period, the aristocracy continued to be inspired by the imperial model, to which it adhered in its own fashion. This phenomenon was particularly evident in the foundation of imperial and aristocratic monasteries. The tradition established under the Macedonians enjoyed a new bloom when Alexios I Komnenos ascended the throne: monasteries built or renovated by an aristocratic family, increased in number in the capital under the shadow of the Pontokrator monastery, founded to house the dynastic mausoleum of the Comneni. The imperial model was also widely used in the provinces, as attested by the paintings in the monasteries of Koutsovendis and Asinou in Cyprus, and the striking resemblance between the female donor represented in the depiction of the Healing Saints (in the porch of Ágii Anárgiri Varlaám, one of the largest churches in Kastoriá) and the image of Empress Irene in Hagia Sophia.

Outside the Empire, the Norman court of the House of Hauteville adopted the model of the Byzantine court, which was skilfully exploited in the mosaics in the churches of Palermo. Despite the disruption of the interregnum (1204–1261), aristocratic patronage flourished during the last centuries of the Empire, largely favouring funerary constructions, manuscripts, and icons. Powerful patrons could extend their patronage to several sites and, if necessary, make use of the local artistic resources[3].

 Collective patronage

Collective patronage deserves a special mention: pro bono patronage exercised by secular and religious citizens drew on societal traditions from the Hellenistic and Roman periods.  Collective patronage was a recurrent phenomenon in late Antiquity, and is attested by floor mosaics, which were particularly common, such as those in the Church of Moses on Mount Nebo, and the minor arts, such as the treasuries of Zion and Ḥamāh.

Collective patronage disappeared during the crises of the seventh and eighth centuries, but reappeared at the end of the Middle Ages in an entirely different context—that of rural society in which the church, often represented by a single edifice and very few clergy, constituted the centre of the community. Saints represented at eye level met the requirements of the worshippers, while the inscriptions, which are often like mural documents, attest to the collective patronage by rigorously respecting the hierarchy in Byzantine society: the mention of the eponymous authorities is followed by the generic ‘the rest of the people’. Between these two conventions can be placed a combination of sponsors and patrons, belonging to various categories: the prestigious mosaics of San Vitale celebrate the generosity of the Imperial couple and Archbishop Maximian, serving as a model for Julianus Argentarius, a secular euergetic banker. Religious monuments, particularly in Cappadocia[4], realized with the support of several people, show that collective patronage was a common practice and, quite possibly, an economic imperative.

Patronage of the arts and identity

Involvement in the realization of works of art—an indication of wealth and social status, which sometimes bore similarities to its original civil character, and was governed by the economic and political dynamic—was very much a vector of the mentality at the time, and an unparalleled means of personal expression. Quite apart from an imperfect classification of the patrons, the patron often stamped his seal on the work, or appeared in the work through subtle combinations of images. Attributing unusual dedications to the Virgin and Christ, such as in the buildings dedicated to them, was a means of taking over and forming an intimate relationship with the sacred[5]. Inscriptions—whether in the form of awkward graffiti or Manuel Philes’s poems on funerary monuments[6]—immortalize the name and memory of those who commissioned the work, and portraits immortalize their presence. There are numerous examples where the patronage even had an influence on the construction of the images. Hence, the scenes of King David in the Psalter in Paris (Par. Gr. 139) are considered to be a homage to Constantine VII. The emperor’s features are found on the face of King Abgar in the Icon of the Mandylion in St Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, while in the Nea Moni monastery on the island of Chios, King David’s features are those of Constantine IX Monomachus (to cite but two compelling examples). Lastly, the Saint Neophyte Monastery in Cyprus—where the patron saint is exalted by means of subtle visual rhetoric, developed under his guidance and interpreted by an eponymous artist—is a remarkable example of the extent to which patronage could participate in personal expression.

I. R.