Concise, critical reviews of books, exhibitions, and projects in all areas and periods of art history and visual studies
February 6, 2014
Franklin Toker Archaeological Campaigns Below the Florence Duomo and Baptistery (1895–1980) New York: Harvey Miller, 2011. 536 pp.; 124 color ills.; 591 b/w ills. Cloth $160.00 (9781905375523)
Thumbnail

Archaeological sites that afford a view of several layers of human history, unfolding in chronological succession, capture the imagination of the specialist and the non-specialist alike. Excavation and analysis of such sites as the Parthenon in Athens or the Pantheon in Rome have all afforded clear views of the ways in which structures influenced the shape and function of the edifices that followed. The volume under review is the second in a series of four volumes that collectively constitute the published results of the Florence Duomo Project. As one of the major archaeological campaigns of this generation, the aim of the project is to analyze all that preceded and so lies beneath the Cathedral or Duomo of Santa Maria del Fiore and its adjoining Baptistery in Florence. The church of Santa Reparata, built over and incorporating parts of a Roman house, provided the site for the Duomo of Santa Maria del Fiore; since 1970, ongoing excavation of this site has yielded a range of critical information, stimulating new discussions about Florentine history per se, including the origins of Christianity in the city.

As Franklin Toker notes in the introduction to this manifestly impressive volume, in order to achieve the aim of better understanding the origins of the original church beneath the Duomo, the project as a whole draws not only on archaeological evidence, but on liturgical and art-historical data, and on social as well as political history; that is, the project involves the analysis of artifacts and texts, as well as structures. Unraveling the multi-layered history of the site in this way thus requires the ready availability of experts in a range of highly specialized areas. In both practical and financial terms, these contributions are not always possible. In addition, access to specialists within one discipline whose expertise straddles a variety of periods or media—from carved gemstones and metalwork to ceramics, coins, textiles, frescoes, mosaic, sculpture, or even architectural sculpture—may not be possible. It is to Toker’s credit that as director of this enormous and complex project, and as primary author of this volume, he has brought considerable dexterity to bear on the coordination of these specialists—drawing here on roughly fifty collaborators, arranging the material in a systematic fashion, and cogently bringing together key points for the reader.

The first volume in the series, entitled On Holy Ground: Liturgy, Architecture and Urbanism in the Cathedral and the Streets of Medieval Florence (New York: Harvey Miller, 2009), focused on the medieval building that was Santa Reparata (completed in 1375), which was destroyed to make way for Santa Maria del Fiore (completed 1439/40). The second volume, reviewed here, traces the archaeological layers below the Duomo, from the first century BCE and Roman constructions, through to its early Christian, Carolingian, and Romanesque phases of reconstruction. Building on the data collated in volumes 1 and 2, the third will produce an architectural history of the site, while the fourth will draw from the data revealed across volumes 1–3 to create a social and political context from the data. On Toker’s own admission, in order to give primacy to the archaeological data and use it as a basis for interpretation, the series will ultimately bifurcate into two halves: part one (vols. 1 and 2) is descriptive, while part two (vols. 3 and 4) will be analytical. As Toker acknowledges, methodologically this recalls in archaeological history the pioneering work of Jocelyn Toynbee and John Ward Perkins (The Shrine of St. Peter and the Vatican Excavations, New York: Pantheon Books, 1958) and subsequently of Richard Krautheimer (Rome: Profile of a City, 312–1308, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1980).

As such, the volumes interlock, and in so doing, work together to enflesh not only the history of a single site, but the social and political history of Florence. Subsequently, reviewing one volume on its own—divorced from the grand narrative—is inevitably unfair; and in what follows, the contribution that this volume makes to that broader narrative, as well as a brief summary of its individual qualities, will be surveyed.

Where Toynbee, Ward Perkins, and Krautheimer brought new understandings to the history of Rome, the Florence excavation brings new information to bear on another Italian city—one of the most well-known and thoroughly documented medieval and Renaissance cities, yet one for which the documentary history on its early years remains relatively silent. The importance of understanding the Roman and early Christian history of the site is demonstrated as being critical in the deeper understanding of the medieval site and the culture that developed it. Drawing on decades of archaeological excavation, the publication requires an extraordinary synthesizing and clarity in the presentation of results in order for the importance of the work as a whole to be understood. And in this the volume succeeds: it is beautifully presented, contains high-resolution color plates, and has a clear structure that makes navigation of the data easy. The sequence of evidence and analysis that unfolds across the first two sections extends from the macro (excavated structures) to the micro (excavated artifacts), and is chronologically arranged, beginning with Roman graffiti, inscriptions, coins, murals, ceramics, and sculpture, and moving to medieval coins, ceramics, glass, metalwork and sculpture murals, ceramics, sculpture, glass, and metalwork from the Roman to the medieval period. The third section focuses on the application of archaeological science and explores diverse questions—such as where mosaicists quarried their tesserae, and what information is retrievable from the analysis of skeletal remains. This means that within this single volume we are able to consider such diverse questions as whether the bones of Giotto di Bondone were once held in a particular tomb (130–32) and whether the stylistic analysis of iconography can assist in determining a clearer date for medieval fresco of the Arma Christi (109). Of course the methods adopted to address such questions in the context of this site have broader applicability and relevance to those working with similar issues in different archaeological contexts.

Thus as an individual entity the volume consciously raises and helpfully addresses practical problems facing those involved in large-scale excavations. The fundamental, everyday issues facing the orchestration of such a large project (and indeed, one of such a long duration) are never glossed over; rather, the reader is drawn in to the problem-solving process, and made to feel a part of that process. Specific challenges range from conservation to iconographic interpretation. For example, the question of storage of artifacts, and thus management of the material evidence, emerges as a critical problem. Other practical problems addressed include the fact that no complete glossary of Italian technical terms existed for ceramics, glass, metalwork, or sculpture. Thus Toker outlines the methods by which he invented one (235). Meanwhile, acute methodological issues relating to art-historical interpretation emerge with the stylistic and compositional analysis of the Arma Christi. Painted around 1366 in Santa Reparata’s south apsidiole (fig. 27), the image demonstrates the synthesis of three iconographic traditions (109), and on its own terms demands sensitive analysis that will ultimately contribute to the finer points regarding chronology and the history of the site.

Embedded in the rich array of data here are a number of interesting theories, some of which are promised to be developed in more detail in a subsequent volume. Included, for instance, is Toker’s hypothesis that a particular sarcophagus in the church (tomb 46, pl. 28, 177–80) originally functioned as the tomb of Zenobius, the earliest documented saint in Florentine history. Here as elsewhere, Toker builds on a range of evidence, including forensic. For this reader, among the most striking of his theories is that concerning the presence of Saint Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, in Florence. The church of Santa Reparata originally stood on the site of a Roman domus—in fact, one of the largest Roman houses to be excavated in the middle of a European city (206). Within the domus, Toker has identified a “shrine,” hypothesizing that it marks not only the bedroom in which Saint Ambrose stayed when he lived in Florence between March and August of 395 (according to the Vita Sancti Ambros by Paulinus the Deacon), but the site where he reportedly performed two miracles. The hypothesis, already discussed elsewhere (Franklin Toker, “Amid Rubble and Myth,” Humanities 20, no. 2 [March/April 1999]: 14–18; cited in this volume, 488, n. 170), has important ramifications for the history of the site; yet it would also provide a rare and interesting case study for the evolution of an early Christian domestic site into a place of public worship. Toker promises to reveal more of the argument in the fourth volume, and we eagerly await the details.

In this volume, the particulars of medieval iconographic analysis weave into the intricacies of identifying Roman graffiti, appraising pottery or numismatic evidence, understanding architecture, even dating human remains (possibly those of Giotto). Stepping back to digest this material, as Toker has been able to do with such rigor, candor, insight, and sensitivity, we witness the way in which successful collaboration can produce spectacular results—results that together can, quite literally, alter the face of history.

Felicity Harley-McGowan
Gerry Higgins Lecturer in Medieval Art History, School of Culture and Communication, University of Melbourne