Once the Greeks realized that they could portray the human (and divine) body to perfection, both as a static image and in motion, their next step was to create more realistic portraits, showing the human condition under less than ideal circumstances. One such example was the Dying Gaul, datable to c. 220 b. c.e. although now only known through Roman copies (see Image 9.25). Here, yet again, is an ideal portrayal of the male body, with hyperrealistic detailing of the musculature, skeletal structure, and even the flesh and a fatal wound. Realistic too are the details indicating the Celtic/Gaulish ethnicity of the subject: the torque (a solid, round neck ring favored by the Celts), the hair made spiky by application of limestone, and the full moustache. Only the subject's calm, quiet dignity in the face of death adds an idealizing element to the work, which the Greek artist clearly intended to show as the death of a noble enemy.
All the sculpture discussed above is sculpture in the round, with the exception of the Olympian Apollo. He is indicative of another style of sculpture in the Greek Archaic through Hellenistic periods—ar-chitectural sculpture. Instead of existing in the round,
9.25 Dying Gaul (The Art Archive/Museo Capitolino Rome/Dagli Orti)
9.26 Temple of Zeus at Olympia, West Pediment (Vanni Archive/Corbis)
Architectural sculpture decorated the metopes, friezes, and pediments of Greek temples and was therefore flat on the back. In general, architectural sculpture went through the same developments as sculpture in the round: Anatomy was gradually improved, human bodies went from geometric designs to naturalistic models, and clothing and drapery thinned out on females. Architectural sculpture presented an additional layer of complexity, however, and this was composition. In contrast to solitary statues, architectural sculpture usually told a story, such as the battle between the gods and Titans. This involved arranging several sculptures into a small space to produce an aesthetically pleasing yet coherent narrative.
On metopes, the artist usually showed a quick scene from a familiar story. Good examples come from the metopes of the Temple of Zeus at Olympia. These depicted the Twelve Labors of Heracles.
On pediments, the artist had to convey a narrative while simultaneously arranging all the characters coherently into a triangular space. On the west pediment of the same temple mentioned above, there is a clear hierarchy of figures ranging from center to edge (see Image 9.26). In the middle stands Apollo, calmly pointing to his right. On either side of him are men fighting inebriated centaurs who are trying to rape the women and youths in the scene. The figures closer to the edges are crouched or kneeling, giving a realistic sense to the scene while simultaneously allowing them to fit into the pediment's smaller space. In the corners are reclining figures portraying rivers or river deities, filling the smallest spaces and lending a geographic setting to the scene (i. e., showing that the action is located between rivers X and Y).
The friezes were arguably the easiest architectural sculptures to execute, as the artist had a continuous flat band on which to work. The only requirement was a scene that could fill up a long space. Both battle scenes and processional scenes fit the bill, as on the Procession Frieze on the Parthenon. Here, the Athenians are engaged in a long procession leading to the deities, who are seated at the crux of the procession. A young girl with a folded robe next to Athena identifies this scene as the Peplophoria, a ritual in which the Athenians presented Athena (or at least her cult statue) with a new dress. Not only did the frieze portray one of the most important religious festivals of the Athenian calendar, it depicted the Athenian people themselves as existing within the same space as the gods, advertising to all viewers that the Athenians were just a tad closer to divinity than everyone else.