14 The first impressions of this head of Augustus (b. 63 B. C., ruled 31 B. C.-A. D. 14) are lukewarm. Modern treatment with acid gave the surface a certain early nineteenth century air and marred it, reducing the sharp incision of the details, suppressing the modeling, and leaving the stone cold and unresponsive. Slowly one becomes aware that the head was a good reproduction of the standard, so-called Prima Porta type which presented the aging founder of the Empire in the guise of a classical Greek young man—elevated above incidents of mood, age, and even actual likeness. No one would say today that it reproduces an ideal Polykleitan type: however, everybody can see that Polykleitos’s canon is the basis of the proportions, the art, and the elevation of the individual. At a deeper stage of examination, the head reveals much more about the man we see: will power, intellect, and Roman pragmatism in a Greek mantle. This is the man who could cloak his conquests in constitutionality and lead Rome as princeps, the first among equals, to new heights of peace, prosperity, and power. Even a discreet indication of Augustus’s age is perceptible, especially in the naso-labial zone. It is respect more than love that we feel for both the sculptor and the man.
15 The other Augustus in the Getty collection appears more romantic with his dreamy eyes, lively movement of the facial muscles, and full lips. Here we can imagine the energy of the eighteen-year-old heir of the murdered Caesar, grasping for power and revenge but also filled with his adopted father’s visions for the future of Rome. The hair has the characteristic “fork” over the brow typical of Augustus, but the sculptor has had some difficulties. In general he followed the standard image of the Prima Porta Augustus as in no. 14, but there is some uncertainty buoyed by inflated volumes and the right surface. One explanation of the peculiarities of the head is simple and has been suggested by Paul Zanker. The head was originally a Caligula (compare no. 24). After the violent death of the tyrant and condemnation of his memory, it was reworked into an inspired image of the founder of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. The features, which are untypical of standard heads of Augustus, especially the wide open eyes, the transversal modeling of the forehead, and the deeply sunk temples are characteristics of Caligula’s likeness.
16. Fragment of a statue of Livia, wife of Augustus
Cut down to a bust in the nineteenth century. The portrait dates to the late first century B. C.
16 That this portrait of Livia (58 B. C.-A. D, 29), the wife of Augustus, exists today as a bust is a modern quirk of fate. Originally it was part of a statue. Probably after an accident it was cut down to a bust of an unusual shape with the left shoulder restored, probably in the nineteenth century. Of course, the surface was repolished and the nose made anew. Contrary to the normal restoration procedure, this was not done to enhance the piece as an antiquity but to accommodate it to a new destiny. Our portrait of Livia served in a church south of Naples as the image of the Virgin Mary, and she filled the role rather well! Although the countenance of the first Roman empress is fairly recognizable, her features passed here through a more radical Hellenizatlon than most of the portraits of the early Julio-Claudian period, including those of her husband Augustus. It may possibly be an idealizing posthumous effigy, but even the portraits of Livia’s lifetime, like the next example, do not appear too individual. The dominant impression of classical beauty must have been considered adequate as an expression of the dignity of the first lady of the Empire.
17 The other Livia in the collection, made as a bust from the first, shows more of her famous personality. We see her strong will and her taste for command, restrained only by self-imposed good manners. This all appears as a logical continuation of traditional virtues proper to a good Roman lady of Republican times. Livia had no official prerogatives, but her control of the emperor had no limits other than the ones she admitted herself. The remembrance of good, old-fashioned times can also be credited with her simple and rather unpretentious hairstyle. However, the Hellenizatlon of this image is clear. No one could guess that she was over sixty, the age which actually corresponds to this portrait type. Livia’s real appearance is still strong enough under the ennoblization to recognize how much Tiberius (nos. 21, 22), blood of her blood, took after her in looks. They shared the same fierce and resolute nature, but Livia was without the underlying melancholy apparent in portraits of her son.
No one would ever believe that the sitter is over sixty years old. Early first century A. D.