The creation and early phase of satyr-play is closely connected with the genesis of tragedy and is just as obscure and controversial (Lesky 1972, 17-48; Seidensticker 1999, 6-9). Around 520 or 510 Pratinas, who was regarded in antiquity as the inventor of the genre, probably gave literary form to the simple mimetic satyr dances and songs of his Peloponnesian homeland, dances and songs that apparently had parallels in the Attic cult of Dionysus (Seaford 1984, 11-14; Hedreen 1992, 16566). Pratinas made satyr-plays so popular in Athens that they were eventually incorporated into the festival program of the City Dionysia (Pohlenz 1965). In contrast to comedy, which became part of the festival program some twenty years later, satyr-plays were not performed on their own for about 150 years, but were always connected to tragedy. From the end of the sixth century on each tragedian admitted to the tragedy competition had to produce not only three tragedies but also a satyr-play to serve as a cheerful epilogue. The tetralogy structure was only given up in the second half of the fourth century (terminus ante quem 340/39, cf. IG II2 2319-23, 16 ff.).
Despite its lasting popularity satyr-play is far more poorly documented than tragedy or comedy. Of the three hundred satyr-plays that were performed at the City Diony-sias in the fifth century, only one, Euripides’ Cyclops, has survived. However, we also possess numerous fragments of many other plays (Krumeich, Pechstein, and Seidensticker 1999), substantial archaeological material (Krumeich 1999, 41-73), and literary attestations, so that the characteristics of the genre can be determined with some reliability despite the poor transmission.
Satyr-play, like tragedy, dramatizes mythical stories, and as in tragedy Dionysiac subjects are the exception rather than the rule (Seidensticker 2002). Generally the satyrs, who constitute the chorus, and their old father Silenus are integrated into mythical contexts in which they are not at home: Danae’s arrival on the beach of the island of Seriphos (Aeschylus’ Net-Haulers), Apollo’s search for the cattle stolen by Hermes (Sophocles’ Trackers), Odysseus’ encounter with the Cyclops Polyphemus (Euripides’ Cyclops).
In Aeschylean and Sophoclean satyr-plays the myth into which the satyrs have been integrated often serves merely as a framework for the antics of the satyrs. For example, the Perseus myth tells how Dictys, brother of the king of Seriphos, comes upon Danae and her baby on the shore of the island and takes them under his care; Aeschylus in Net-Haulers, however, confines Danae’s arrival and reception to the beginning and end of his play, placing in the center the encounter of the satyr chorus and Silenus with the beautiful princess and her baby. Sophocles’ Trackers shows a similar technique: Apollo and Hermes, the two protagonists of the Homeric Hymn from which Sophocles derived his subject matter, are banished to the beginning and end of the play. About two thirds of the dramatic action belongs to the satyrs: to their dog-like searching for the stolen cattle (from which the play derives its name) and to their encounters first with the mysterious strains of the lyre, then with the nymph Cyllene, and finally with Hermes himself, cattle-thief and the lyre’s inventor.
Francois Lissarrague has formulated the recipe used by the tragedians for their satyric final course in one pithy phrase: ‘‘take one myth, add satyrs, observe the result’’ (Lissarrague 1990, 236). Aeschylus and Sophocles like to entrust the satyrs with a task which in the traditional story is of little importance: in Net-Haulers it is the drawing in of the fishing net, in Trackers the search for the missing cattle. The result is that a minor detail of the story develops its own momentum and becomes the main action. The satyr chorus, along with Silenus, take over the myth; they interrupt and modify the story, retard or advance the action into which they have been transplanted, and thus unexpectedly, but logically, become the protagonists. In Euripides’ Cyclops their role is considerably smaller than in the satyr-plays of Aeschylus and Sophocles. Yet by virtue of their constant presence and their actions and reactions, songs and comments, gestures and dances, Silenus and the satyrs determine the tone and atmosphere of the play even in the parts dominated by Odysseus and Polyphemus.
Overall the satyr-play is shaped more strongly than tragedy by standardized patterns of action and generic topoi (Sutton 1980, 145-59; Seaford 1984, 33-44; Seidensticker 1999, 28-32); there is a special preference for stories in which the activity of violent fiends or monsters is curbed or thwarted.2 Closely connected to this theme is the motif of imprisonment and rescue, as in Euripides’ Cyclops, where first Silenus and his satyrs and then Odysseus and his crew find themselves at the mercy of the Cyclops, until Odysseus devises a plan of escape. The temporary enslavement of the satyrs was apparently a frequent although not an obligatory theme. The relationship of dependency is not always compulsory; sometimes the satyrs offer their services of their own free will, as in Sophocles’ Trackers, where the satyrs undertake the search for Apollo’s lost cattle in expectation of a reward. In any case they generally find themselves in an unaccustomed or uncongenial environment or situation. They constantly attempt, or are forced to attempt, activities for which they lack either the ability or the desire: we see them as fishermen and hunters, servants, herdsmen, and athletes, laborers in a vineyard, field, or forge, and they are freed from their hateful bondage only at the end of the play. They can be deprived of their beloved wine, or the women they are pursuing can be snatched from them at the last moment, but even under conditions of slavery there is no taking away their delight in music, song, and dance. The satyrs’ thirst and their insatiable sexual appetite are recurrent topoi, as are swindles, ruses, and tricks, inventions and transformations, and the birth and upbringing of gods and heroes.
As Welcker (1826) pointed out, in satyr-play (as opposed to tragedy) it is not the dramatic events themselves that captivate the audience, but the effect the events produce on the minds of the satyrs. The special charm of the genre is due to the abrupt clash between two completely different worlds: the encounter with the satyrs takes place on their own territory. According to Vitruvius (5.6.9), the scaena satyrica was dominated by trees, caves, and mountains; indeed, satyr-plays evidently were not set before a palace (as is the case in most tragedies) nor in the city (which forms the background of most comedies), but rather in places where satyrs are at home: in mountain forests and deserts, in front of caves or on the seashore.
The clash between the two disparate worlds of satyr-play is visually highlighted by masks and costumes. The standard dress of the satyrs and their old father Silenus is known from many vase-paintings (Krumeich 1999, 53-55): whereas Silenus was fully covered by a costume of white-tufted fur (the mallOtos chitOn), the satyrs were bearded and snub-nosed, slightly balding, with the slim pointed ears associated with horses, mules, or donkeys. They cavorted around the orchOstra barefoot, naked except for a small loincloth to which was attached an abundant horsetail and a large erect phallus. In contrast, the other characters wore the long, richly embroidered robes of tragedy.
The contrast is particularly marked on the famous Pronomos vase (reproduced in Krumeich, Pechstein, and Seidensticker 1999, plates 8 and 9, and Csapo and Slater 1995, plate 8), which at the same time hints at a further aspect of difference: the contrast between the composed demeanor of the heroes and the dancing and jesting of the satyrs. The dances of the chorus doubtless left their mark on the character of the genre (Seidensticker 2003): accompanied by the Dionysiac aulos, they were lively and noisy and indeed often rather wild, full of swift jumps and agitated movement. While it appears that the choreography of tragedy was somewhat abstract (with some exceptions, such as the binding-song of the Furies at Aeschylus, Eumenides 308-96), vividly pantomimic dancing seems to have been characteristic of satyr-play.
Like the chorus in tragedy, the satyrs of satyr-play are generally in attendance on one of the protagonists of the myth into which they have been integrated. But unlike their tragic counterparts, Aeschylean and Sophoclean satyr choruses do not confine themselves to choral songs performed in the orchestra and to short dialogues with the characters that are mediated by the chorus-leader. Unlike the regular chorus of tragedy they pursue their own goals (the possession of a beautiful woman, for example, or their own liberation from one of the many ogres of satyr-play), and unlike the tragic choruses they do not merely observe and comment on dramatic developments, but actively and continuously interfere with them. Their actions dominate large parts of the plays and determine their tone and atmosphere, and in the world ofnaked, ithyphallic, dancing satyrs it is the heroes who seem out ofplace - not only on account of their costume and demeanor, but also because of the things they do and say. In Cyclops, for example, Odysseus’ opening words (96-98) sound a little too high-flown, and his plea to Polyphemus (286-312) also appears slightly absurd, because he forgets that he is speaking not to an equal as in tragedy, but to the ogre of satyr-play. Much of the genre’s comic quality is derived from the tension between two worlds: the world of the satyrs and the world of the heroes into which these rascals have been transplanted.