Roman Imperial Portrait Practice in the Second Century AD: Marcus Aurelius and Faustina the Younger

Christian Niederhuber, Roman Imperial Portrait Practice in the Second Century AD: Marcus Aurelius and Faustina the Younger, Oxford Monographs on Classical Archaeology (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2022). 9780192845658.

Reviewed by Kira Jones, independent scholar, kirakjones@gmail.com.

Portraits of notable individuals were ubiquitous throughout Rome, and none more so than those of the imperial family. They could be made of metal, marble, precious stone, paint, or even appear as graffiti; they were on display in private homes and public buildings, in military camps and far-flung provincial towns. Although the portraits we have today are only a fraction of the original number, they nonetheless give us a window into how Rome perceived its emperor (not to mention how the emperor wanted to be perceived). In Roman Imperial Portrait Practice in the Second Century AD, Christian Niederhuber presents a remarkably detailed study of the coin and marble portraits of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina the Younger, within which he reorganizes the portrait types put forth by previous scholars and then uses the data to propose a more cooperative method of dissemination and innovation for official imperial portraits of Marcus and Faustina. 

The book is divided into three main sections. In the first two, Marcus Aurelius and Faustina each get dedicated chapters for their coin and marble portraits followed by a short  summary of the findings. The third section consists of a discussion of elements around portrait production, namely, the imperial mint, marble workshops, and portrait dissemination, each presented within a specialized chapter. At over a hundred pages, nearly half of the book is dedicated to  high-resolution pictures of the coins and statues in question. While this is undoubtedly the main reason for the book’s high price ($140 through Oxford), it is essential for understanding the nuanced differences that Niederhuber draws upon in his arguments.

The book is aimed at those who have specialized knowledge of Roman portraiture, although Niederhuber includes enough background information for readers who have not previously delved into portraiture studies; the introduction acts as both a historiography and a methodological guide to portrait studies. He gives an excellent summary of the typological method, whereby variations of imperial portraits are grouped into “types” based on repeated physical characteristics, and pushes back on both established scholarship and its criticism. He agrees that highly restrictive typologies (featuring large numbers of types with only a few examples within each type) are probably at odds with Roman reality, but notes that the consistency in image reproduction points towards some degree of coordinated image dissemination. His aim for this book is twofold: He wishes to “make imperial portraits and their typology accessible to a wider audience—not merely to a restricted body of specialists” (p. 4) and to use the surviving coin and sculpted portraits of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina the Younger to establish updated typologies and hypothetical models that would be disseminated within metropolitan Rome. With these typologies and models set forth, he explores how they might have worked within Rome’s artisan community and how much fidelity to the original was required when reproducing portrait types for coin issues and statuary.

Niederhuber follows his introduction with a study of Faustina’s portraits, which spans chapters 2–4. After examining previous studies by Strack, Wegner, and Fittschen,¹ he removes types that have no evidence for being widely replicated. He then groups the adjusted typology with coin legends in order to determine any relation between dates (if known), titles, and portrait types, and to work towards a more accurate chronology of portrait types. Imperial portraits typically coincide with major milestones in a given imperial family’s reign, such as being declared an heir, getting married, or taking up a new title. As empress, Faustina’s portraits have traditionally been linked to the birth of her (at least) 14 children, with a new portrait type being released after every birth. Changes in the portrait may be as miniscule as a single reversed curl, but if one assumes that the imperial household had complete control over portrait replication then any variation would have been impossible without an official mandate. As such, one would expect a concordance between honors celebrated on coins and medallions issued with Faustina’s official likeness, but Niederhuber’s careful analysis of the evidence proves that this is not the case. By examining Faustina’s portrait types on the coins against the coin legends, which follow a more stringent chronology, he proves that they do not, in fact, uniformly correspond with the birth of her children. Furthermore, some portrait types are restricted to coins while others appear in both numismatic and sculptural form. Niederhuber is careful to distinguish between actual changes and differences necessitated by medium. For example, the Antonine curls so prized in sculpture have to be portrayed differently in coins, due to differences not only in size but also in technique. One furthermore has to account for mass production of dies and different levels of skill in making them. In the end, Niederhuber eliminates some portrait types that have only one or two examples and are nearly identical to more numerous types, establishes that roughly every other new portrait type is restricted to coins, and posits that some of these may have been innovations by the mint rather than a direct order from the imperial family. 

These chapters also incorporate an all-too-short discussion of gender-based issues in Roman portraiture: differences in pose between emperor and empress, wider societal expectations, and variations in artistic technique between male and female anatomy.  Niederhuber weaves these artistic variations and social norms into his analysis of Faustina’s hairstyles, while also taking the opportunity to discuss give and take in stylistic influences between the empress and other metropolitan women of Rome. He does not downplay the importance of fashion in elite Roman society—quite the opposite, as it occupies a significant portion of an otherwise technical study. However, such questions deserve their own monograph and any attempts to include them in more focused studies are bound to feel unfinished. Regardless, Niederhuber’s strides in extracting Faustina’s legacy from the number of children she bore and placing her within elite metropolitan social circles are important steps forward for the field. 

Niederhuber applies the same treatment to the portraits of Marcus Aurelius (chapters 5–7) ,      which exhibit a more robust concordance of events with types as well as more information on provincial distribution and production. Niederhuber points out technical reasons for numismatic portrait changes that do not correspond to new types, such as fluctuating letter size or dies in which the date was re-engraved and subsequently reused; these are part of the process of minting coins and not related to imagery. Moreover, fluidity in Marcus’s hair and beard (with respect to both presence and size) early on point towards a gradual change in portrait type rather than a strictly linear one. Innovations began first in Italy and then gradually diffused into provincial portraits. These changes appear in coins before statues and Niederhuber concludes from the non-linear progression that die cutters were not working directly from a specific 3D model. Rather, he proposes that the imperial family authorized an official model (“Palatine model”) which was then converted to an “authorized mint model” that would be stored at the mint, then a “work model” in 2D or relief that served as the outline of the actual die design and was able to be made with standard minting techniques. The mint would then be working off of their own model which could be stored, reused, and updated. This contrasts with traditional ideas of Palatine oversight in which the imperial family dictated all changes and artisans merely had to follow. 

Chapters 8–10 expand on the production and distribution of imperial portraits by profiling the Roman mint and metropolitan marble workshops. Niederhuber discusses the hierarchy within the mint as well as both regularization of production and the increased use of stereotypical reverses with stock imperial portraits during the Antonine period. He also notes the differences in gem and die carving (dies require engraving whereas gems use drills) and the wide spectrum of talent and skill that must be accounted for when attempting to categorize portraits in these mediums. Despite the dearth of archaeological evidence for the marble workshops within metropolitan Rome, the sculptural process was certainly highly sophisticated and complex. Unlike the mint, sculptors were working with a much greater technical facility in marble and capacity for greater detail since they were creating a larger 3D work. 

Niederhuber concludes the book by proposing a new system for imperial portraits: The imperial family would have a portrait sitting that resulted in a clay model, from which a limited number of plaster casts were made and sent to the mint and local marble workshops. Dissemination to marble workshops both within Italy and in the provinces would have been accomplished through trade and workshop connections, while the mint would proceed as described earlier.  Speaking in general terms, he emphasizes the need for a recognizable image of the emperor and empress that reflected the norms of high society, dynastic conceptions, and the continuity of empire. However, if we remove the need for specific events to initiate a new portrait type and instead opt for a model wherein the needs of the imperial family are balanced with the realities of production, Faustina and Marcus’s gradual changes and the incomplete correspondence between coin and sculpted portraits becomes more logical. 

Overall, Niederhuber’s argument is very convincing and his goal of using these portraits to clarify the workings of imperial portrait manufacture and distribution has certainly been achieved. The sections on mint production, and especially die cutting, provide a much-needed window into the technical side of imperial image-making and ground his argument in practicality. His second goal, to “make imperial portraits and their typology accessible to a wider audience—not merely to a restricted body of specialists,” is less successful. Apart from the price point of the book, which will put it out of reach for most without access to an academic library, the dense terminology and technicalities of portrait typology remain extremely daunting to the uninitiated. This is not to say that the book is without merit for a wider audience; the chapters on production would be excellent for a graduate seminar and Niederhuber has left the door open for future scholars to take this study in myriad directions. Apart from provincial portraits, which he mentions as a possible avenue, it would be intriguing to apply his methodology to recarved and gem portraits. In sum, while I would not recommend this work to a casual reader, it is a major step forward in our understanding of imperial image-making and exactly the type of fusion between studies of iconography and technical realities that our field needs more of. 

Table of Contents

1. Introduction: aims and methods (1–7)
2. Faustina: imperial coins and medallions (8–29)
3. Faustina: marble portraits (30–42)
4. Faustina: discussion (47–49)
5. Marcus Aurelius: imperial coins and medallions (50-–59)
6. Marcus Aurelius: marble portraits (60–70)
7. Marcus Aurelius: discussion (71–75)
8. Organization of the mint of Rome and system of production (76–79)
9. Metropolitan marble technology and marble workshops (80–82)
10. Imperial portrait practice: norms and models in the second century (83–91)
11. Conclusion (92)
Appendix: Portrait Lists of Faustina and Marcus Aurelius (93–100)
Bibliography (101–6)
Illustrations (107–212)
Index (213–14)

Notes

1. Paul L. Strack, Untersuchungen zur römischen Reichsprägung des zweiten Jahrhunderts, vol. 3, Die Reichsprägung zur Zeit des Antoninus Pius (Stuttgart: Verlag von W. Kohlhammer, 1937); Max Wegner, Die Herrscherbildnisse in antoninischer Zeit: Das römische Herrscherbild, vol. 2.4 (Berlin: Gebr. Mann, 1939); Klaus Fittschen, Die Bildnistypen der Faustina minor und die Fecunditas Augustae (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck and Ruprecht, 1982).

Discussion

Your theory about model dissemination to the mint and various sculptural workshops is very convincing. Have you been able to study intaglio or cameo portraits to see what conventions are followed? Would they also have been receiving Palatine models?

In my most recent book on the public image of Commodus that I wrote with Bert Smith we also briefly discussed intaglios and cameos. It emerges that the gem engravers employed considerable freedom in their use of the available portrait designs or types. Although intaglios and cameos do not display a close or consistent correspondence either with coins or sculptural types, they clearly have within them knowledge of the central models—by which we can still recognise them so easily.