Greek Baths and Bathing Culture

New Discoveries and Approaches

Dados Bibliográficos

ID13048314
AutoresStefanie Hoss (University of Cologne, autor correspondente)
Ano2018
Volume6
Fascículo1-2
Páginas153-156
Data de publicação2018-06-01
Peer ReviewedSim
Open AccessNão
TipoARTICLE
PeriódicoJournal of Eastern Mediterranean Archaeology & Heritage Studies (JOURNAL)
Identificadores do periódicoISSN: 2166-3548 • E-ISSN: 2166-3556
EditoraThe Pennsylvania State University Press (PUBLISHER)
DOI10.5325/jeasmedarcherstu.6.1-2.0153
OpenAlexW4244299029
IdiomaEN
Citações recebidas6

This book comprises the more fully developed papers presented at a conference of the same title, which was the first to exclusively devote itself to Greek baths and was held at the American Academy in Rome in 2010. Four additional contributions on baths, which were in the process of being identified or excavated at the time of the conference, round out the volume.This collection is fairly specialized and aims at scholars and the advanced student of baths, as it presupposes knowledge on the development of bath houses as well as the pertinent research questions. As this is the first collection of papers exclusively on Greek baths, it will soon become a seminal work in this (up to now) fairly small research field, especially in view of the catalog of all excavated Greek baths at the end of the volume.As it is impossible to do justice to all contributions within the confines of this review, the reviewer has picked several which piqued her interest. The contributions not discussed here are the field reports on Greek bath houses, as their content can be readily guessed from their titles and summarizing the important points would often necessitate reiterating lengthy architectural descriptions. They can be grouped according to geographical region, with five situated in the western Mediterranean (at Velia, Caulonia, Locri Epizefiri, Morgantina and Monte Iato), two in Greece (Thessaloniki, Lemnos), and one in Egypt (the Fayum).In the introduction, Monika Trümper starts out explaining the history of research on Greek baths. She observes that with one exception they were only studied as “forerunners” of Roman baths, instead of being seen as a worthwhile research subject in and of themselves (1). Trümper proceeds by identifying a number of important research questions that need to be addressed to advance studies, remarking that—as is so often the case—the comprehensive publication of baths excavated according to modern methods is key. She divides the research on Greek baths into three main areas, based on different groups of sources. The first of these are the written sources, among which the Egyptian papyri form an especially important group. Despite their importance, they have never been studied comprehensively. The depictions of bathing on vases are the second and best studied type of source of the three. The third type, the archaeological study of the baths themselves, suffers from false identifications, old excavations, and inadequate publications, with most Greek bath buildings only known from short preliminary reports.The contributions in the volume under review also fall within those three categories and will be discussed here in that order, though appearing in a different order in the book. The written sources are represented by Rebecca Fleming's contribution, which charts the appearance of baths and bathing in the writings of Greek medicine. She concludes that curative bathing already has a fixed place in the writings of the Hippocratic corpus and retains it in later Greek sources. The main change takes place in the wider bathing culture, which seems to grow larger and, most importantly, moves from baths taken in ad-hoc domestic surroundings to public installations, with both the bath houses and the bathing rituals getting more complex in the course of the Hellenistic period (29–30). Contrary to earlier research, in her opinion Greek medicine was not driving this change in bathing culture, but just accommodated it.Adrian Stähli deals with depictions of (mainly) women bathing and/or washing themselves, as portrayed on vases. He disproves the idea that these are real-life representations because, among other reasons, they are complemented by depictions of male bathers. He suggests instead that the depicted young and beautiful men and women are to be understood as displaying the qualities that make them attractive to the male gaze (13). Fittingly, most of the depictions are on vessel types used during the symposium.Pier Daniele Neapolitani and Ken Seito contribute to the topic of Greek bath houses in a more indirect manner with their article on Archimedes and the Greek geometry behind vaults used in baths. The paper starts with the origin of Archimedes' The Method, a letter explaining to a correspondent the mathematical theory behind a set of geometrical problems. This reviewer was unable to fully follow the theoretical discussion, but became interested when the authors contended that—contrary to previous ideas—for Greek mathematicians, geometry was about real objects rather than purely theoretical ideas (182). In Archimedes' case, these real objects may have been vaults, more precisely cross (or groin) vaults. While the paper would probably garner more knowledgeable attention in a publication on ancient mathematics, it is interesting to see the amount of theoretical background necessary and existent at the time to construct the ingenious architectural forms used in bath houses.The contributions dealing with the Greek baths themselves start off with two review articles. Trümper examines the urban context of Greek baths, using Athens as an example and comparing it with other cities. Interestingly, there is a clear development from the placement of baths outside of the city proper towards a placement close to a variety of urban features in the city center that can be identified in Athens and perhaps elsewhere, although the latter is more difficult to assess (37–52). Her second point of interest is the difference between baths described as profane and those described as being sacred and used for ritual cleansing before entering the temple precinct or for healing ceremonies. Baths that had been counted in the second group because of their placement near or in sacred precincts in her opinion are unlikely to have been more than ‘profane’ baths, used for the convenience of the visitors to sacred sites, and probably only the rich ones at that (52–62).The second survey article, by Fikret Yegül, picks apart the different threads of tradition that eventually lead to the Roman bath, including the Greek bath, Italian farmhouse traditions, Greek gymnasia, and surprisingly, Punic architectural traditions. While his line of argument is familiar from his seminal book, it is amended and updated here, and touches on the different social influences, which shaped these institutions. In addition, he discusses a number of the baths that he presented in his book in relation to each other and the development of the Greek into the Roman bath, especially the very important Phase II of the Fregellae baths.The Fregellae baths are also discussed in a contribution by Vassilis Tsiolis who starts with a reexamination of a few pertinent points of Phase II that set this bath apart from its Greek predecessors. The main ones are the vaulted roof of at least one room, made from ceramic elements, and the hypocaust, both of which are the oldest of their kind and are constructed in a manner that confirms the descriptions by Vitruvius (90–95). As the hypocaust considerably predates the time of Sergius Orata, this puts to rest the old fairy tale that credits him with its invention (95). However, the main part of the paper is dedicated to the bath of Phase I, which is described at length. The author argues that the best comparisons are to be found in Sicilian balaneia, which concentrate on the relaxing aspects of bathing and do not possess a tholos with hip-baths for quick cleansing, so-called “sitz-showers.”A contribution slightly outside of the main focus of the book is Christian Russenberger's paper on a single bathtub with hypocaust in a private bath of a house on Monte Iatro. The author suggests that the bathtub may have been conceived for communal use (197). The find of a number of fragments of unguent jars and a strigil in and around the bathtub is also interesting (197, fig. 10). While the finds of unguent jars can be seen as almost canonical for Roman baths (especially in the drains of the pools), strigils are a surprisingly rare find. Such private installations have much to tell about the spread of relaxing bathing practices in the Greek Hellenistic world and the development of appropriate installations for them. It would be useful to focus a future conference on Greek baths on private baths, especially as there are many less well-known examples in the Hellenistic world outside of Magna Graeca.A third review paper by Thibaud Fournet and Bérangère Redon forms the last contribution to the volume and deals with the heating systems of Greek baths in Egypt. Taking the bath of Taposiris Magna (Abusir) near Alexandria, excavated by the authors, as a starting point, the authors identify a heating system that has a subterranean ring-shaped furnace sitting relatively close to the entrance to the tholos (or tholoi) and next to the room with immersion tubs. The furnace heated the water for the “sitz-showers” in the tholoi and also heated the walls of the room containing the immersion pools. After reviewing the other Egyptian baths of the Late Hellenistic period, the authors identify at least 11 other baths from the second/first century BCE that have a similar arrangement. Another development of the system is represented by the small bath at Edfu whose very sophisticated subterranean heating system heated the neighboring room with immersion pool through a duct that diverted the hot air from the furnace (255). Again, this bath is not singular; eight other Egyptian baths exhibit similar heating systems. It appears that in Egypt bathrooms with immersion pools were heated by heating walls. With this study, the authors are able to add another distinct group to the two groups of Hellenistic baths already known (239–40, 258–60). All three types are variants of the Hellenistic bath and contain features that are precursors to the ones we find in later Roman bathhouses.In addition to the merit of providing first publications of the various bath houses, the volume under review provides a catalog compiled by Sandra Lucore, Monika Trümper, Bérangère Redon, and Thibaud Fournet of all 70 large Greek public baths known in the Mediterranean to date. This will be an invaluable tool for future researchers. Each entry contains not only a short, standardized description of the features, accompanied by relevant bibliographical references, but also a standardized plan with symbols clearly marking the furnaces and the direction the hot air would have traveled. A map of the Mediterranean shows where each bath is located. A useful short description introduces the catalog, explains the aim and method of compiling it as well as why certain bath houses were omitted from it. This should become a model of how to publish catalogues that are easily comprehensible in their design, giving future researchers the tools to use them correctly.The illustrations are clear and of good quality throughout the book. Especially laudable is the high number of color illustrations, which render excavation photos more easily understandable and are indispensable for some contributions. The book was professionally edited; the reviewer did not find any obvious mistakes.To summarize, the book offers plenty of important contributions to Greek baths, including three significant survey papers, presentations on seven key sites, and a catalog describing the entire corpus of known bath houses. This publication considerably improves our knowledge of Greek baths and provides a base upon which further studies can build

Archaeology · Bathing · Ancient Mediterranean Archaeology and History · Archaeology and Historical Studies · Classical Antiquity Studies · History