Archaeological research has often neglected the documentation of cult realia (see, e. g., Baldassare 1996: 35-41) in favor of architectural and stylistic analysis. The less than spectacular, minimal solutions of practicing religions are recorded only in exceptional cases: perhaps one place of worship was indicated simply by a statuette in a wall niche, or a wall painting on a street corner (Bakker 1994). An outdoor altar could at any time be erected from dug-out patches of grass, and a modest sacrificial meal could be prepared with the help of a portable brazier, earthen crockery, and knives: the water necessary for cleaning could be taken from a public running well or the cistern of a neighboring house or grave-owner. A former cult place may therefore at times be identified only from paint residue on the plastering, a burnt layer, or a waste-disposal pit containing charred remains of fruit kernels and bones. These observations should remind us not to infer from the building of a monumental site the establishment of a (perhaps much older) cult or, vice versa, to conclude from the destruction or dilapidation of a cult site the simultaneous cessation of all cult activity (rather than a conceivable change).
At complex cult sites, the functional differentiation between cult building and auxiliary rooms is marked by differences in the layout of the rooms, their dimensions and arrangement. The size, ceiling height, and monumental character of the central building(s) were intended to impress the visitor, and therefore reserved for the representative areas open to public access (entrance portals, temples, open squares, porticos, or dining rooms). The subsidiary rooms, by contrast, are often found on the periphery, inserted under staircases and into dead corners, even if that made them less than user-friendly: kitchens, storage rooms, and latrines were badly lit and exceedingly cramped - the comfort and safety of his workforce and his slaves were of little consequence for the benefactor keen on external representation.
In the late republican era, visitors ascending the stairs and ramps of the imposing terraced sanctuaries experienced a graded spatial hierarchy, from the storage rooms and shops at the bottom via the representative structures (porticos, theaters, fountains, and gardens) to the crowning temple (Scheid 1995). However, spatial differentiation does not automatically presuppose monumental size: even a small cult space could present a highly complex sign system, demarcating various levels of sacredness by way of visual axes and orientation guides. Spatial borders, symmetry, and direction played a prominent part not only within the sanctuary but also in relation to the urban environment of the cult site.
Nature and spring sanctuaries, which marked the city boundaries, also saw their status raised during the Augustan period. The most prominent example is that of the sacred grove of the Dea Dia (Scheid 1990): from the Augustan reforms onward, the Arval Brethren responsible for the cult of the goddess were recruited from the highest circles of the elite.
In the city, by contrast, outdoor cult sites with few or no architectural markers had already disappeared as a result of the uncontrolled private building activity in the late republican era. Within the sanctuaries, too, tree plantations were increasingly encroached upon by grandiose temples and their extensions, as in the case of the Vesta shrine, where the natural grove was taken over by the spacious residence of the priestesses, only to be replaced by a man-made landscape garden and sacral-idyllic wall paintings in the reception rooms. At the same time the members of the elite sought to enhance their prestige by incorporating into the extensive grounds of their villas little decorative garden temples or caves with marble images (Coarelli 1983); correspondingly, in the representative open squares of the Latin sanctuaries (Gabii, Tibur), there is evidence of similar plantations with artificial irrigation (Coarelli 1989: 14-20).
The permeability and reciprocal convergence of religious and profane architecture are reflected in the multi-functional nature of late republican cult compounds. Closely intertwined with their secular environment, these compounds formed an intricate spatial complex (Stambaugh 1978: 580-8): temple buildings in the city of Rome were used as assembly rooms of the senate, as museums, treasure chambers and archives, trading places and markets, as a unique meeting-place and representative backdrop for diplomatic receptions. Suburban sanctuaries offered lodgings and a bath to travelers; indeed, by virtue of their libraries and theaters they evolved into supra-regional cultural centers.
World History
