The Epic Rhapsode and His Craft: Homeric Performance in a Diachronic Perspective

  González, José M. 2013. The Epic Rhapsode and His Craft: Homeric Performance in a Diachronic Perspective. Hellenic Studies Series 47. Washington, DC: Center for Hellenic Studies. http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:hul.ebook:CHS_GonzalezJ.The_Epic_Rhapsode_and_his_Craft.2013.


12. The Performance of Homer after Ⅳ BC

12.1 The Τεχνῖται of Dionysos

The last chapter in the performance of epic during Hellenistic and Roman imperial times prominently features the σύνοδοι or κοινά of the so-called οἱ περὶ τὸν Διόνυσον τεχνῖται or simply Διονυσιακοὶ τεχνῖται, to which I have made reference several times already. [2] The rise of these professional associations (in parallel with lower-status artists, such as mimes, who did not enjoy the privileges of membership) [3] meant a privatization in the supply of performers that one would not be wrong to describe, to use a modern term, as the subcontracting of local festivities to professional caterers who could provide everything necessary to stage elaborate festivals. The officials of a given polis would deal directly with representatives of the σύνοδοι for all their hiring needs rather than individually with each performer. [4] The multiplication of theaters all throughout the Greek world (cf. Pausanias 10.4.1), even in smaller cities that could not hope to fill all the scheduled events with local artists, greatly increased the demand for capable performers and encouraged the internationalization of the cultural life of Greece. Even the more prestigious sacred festivals [5] cultivated ties of friendship with the guilds, acknowledging their services with honorary decrees and grants of rights and privileges. Their aim was to encourage the participation of (and rivalry among) the various synods and, if at all possible, the supply of performances at their own expense as a favor to the city and a pious service to the gods, to be dutifully repaid with such honors as might foster similar benefactions in the future.

We have already seen one important development in the performance of Homeric epic during Hellenistic times, the homēristai. These did not, however, belong to the synods of τεχνῖται, at least under this particularly label—i.e. in their narrow character as histrionic reciters of Homeric poetry—perhaps because, like the mimes with whom they were often associated later, they were unable to compete at sacred festivals. [6] But their earliest contemporary attestation, Petronius, dates to the first century AD. And though we must reckon with the accidents of preservation, the over three-hundred-year interval between the end of the classical era and the first instance of the overt declaimer-actor should itself convince us that Homeric poetry must have survived in the hands of other artists who kept its performance alive and a part of the festival setting. And indeed, such is the case with the synods, from which we have epigraphical confirmation that epic generally (and, we must assume, Homeric epic in particular) did not lose its vitality, sustained not by the comparatively rarefied literary reaches of the Alexandrian court and its institutions of high-culture, the library and Mouseion, but by the circle of popular festivals where rhapsodes were still prized performers. Attested as members of the associations are the following professions: [7] σαλπιγκταί; κήρυκες; for poets, τραγικοὶ ποιηταί, κωμικοὶ ποιηταί, ποιηταὶ σατύρων, ποιηταὶ ἐπῶν, ποιηταὶ διθυράμβων, ποιηταὶ προσῳδίου; connected with drama, τραγῳδοί, κωμῳδοί, τραγικοὶ συναγωνισταί, κωμικοὶ συναγωνισταί, διδάσκαλοι (χοροῦ or αὐλητῶν), and τραγικοὶ ὑποδιδάσκαλοι; [8] for dancers (some involved in drama), κωμικοὶ χορευταί, παῖδες χορευταί, ἄνδρες χορευταί, and ὀρχησταί; for instrumentalists, κιθαρισταί or οἱ προσκιθαρίζοντες and αὐληταί or οἱ προσαυλίζοντες; for singers κιθαρῳδοί, αὐλῳδοί, and ᾠδοί; perhaps at times with reduced melody, else merely as declaimers, ῥαψῳδοί; for auxiliary staff, ἱματιομίσθαι and σκευοποιοί. Of course not all are attested for any given synod or inscription, and the role and precise sphere of expertise involved is not always clear to the modern scholar. With the distinction between mere ὑποκριταί and τραγῳδοί or κωμῳδοί, for example, we are familiar from fourth-century BC Athens, when old dramas first (in 386) and then comedies (in 339) were admitted into festivals. [9] The need for new labels must have become necessary at least in part to be able to tell them apart in the Fasti. The occasional titles ὑποκριτὴς παλαιᾶς τραγῳδίας [10] and ὑποκριτὴς παλαιᾶς κωμῳδίας [11] gave way decisively to the near exclusive use of τραγῳδός and κωμῳδός (if nothing else, a significant saving of labor for the letter cutter). [12] I have already considered the circumstances that may have spurred the coining of ὁμηριστής over against the more traditional ῥαψῳδός: [13] even though the former did not belong to the Dionysiac synods (or perhaps because of it), once their respective performance practices had diverged enough to mark them as two different kinds of artists, it may have been a matter of pride and prestige for the latter to set themselves clearly apart from the former. [14] The homēristēs not only declaimed Homeric poetry but was also responsible for the mise en scène [15] (especially when several of them worked together to stage fighting duels). The rhapsode, in turn, need not have limited himself strictly to Homeric poetry, though we must assume, if only for reasons of continuity with the classical age, that the Iliad and the Odyssey remained the mainstay of his repertoire. But the mere presence of ποιηταὶ ἐπῶν shows that the composition of epos—here surely in the Aristotelian sense of hexametric poetry [16] —was common and popular. [17] And this, in turn, suggests an expanded repertoire that could draw on relatively recent compositions. Athenaios 14.620c–d witnesses to the performance by rhapsodes not only of Homer, but also of Hesiod, Arkhilokhos, Semonides, and Empedokles. [18] Thus, Klearkhos tells of a Simonides of Zakynthos who sitting on a stool performed Arkhilokhean poetry in the theater as a rhapsode. [19] And from Lysanias we learn that Mnasion the rhapsode delivered the iambs of Semonides in his shows. [20] Note the verb ὑποκρίνεσθαι—here, ‘to deliver’ [21] —in the context of ‘shows’ (δείξεις) before a theater audience. [22] Other reported instances of an expanded repertoire are: Kleomenes the rhapsode reciting Empedokles’ Purifications at Olympia; [23] Hegesias the κωμῳδός (Steph. 1055) and Hermophantos (Steph. 908), [24] perhaps also a comic actor, respectively ‘delivering’ (ὑποκρίνασθαι) Hesiod [25] and Homer in the great theater in Alexandria. [26] There is no doubt that these are far from the stereotype of a homēristēs: they almost certainly performed alone, one even sitting on a stool; and their subject matter (e.g. Hesiod or the Purifications) was far from the bloody fights that scholars regularly associate with homēristai. Nor is Hegesias’ label as a ‘comic actor’ in any obvious way related to his theatrical delivery of Hesiodic poetry.

12.2 The Τεχνῖται and Specialization

One aspect of the practice of artists during Hellenistic times that has obvious implications for the partial convergence between rhapsodic and dramatic performance is the matter of specialization. With the passing of time there were two simultaneous movements, in some ways mutually complementary, in some ways the result of opposing tendencies: the one led to finer distinctions between artists and is reflected by the proliferation of titles that described increasingly narrow areas of expertise; the other was embodied by individual artists who crossed the newly defined boundaries, proving that their proficiency extended beyond the confines of a single field and gaining for their accomplishments the right to use more than one professional label. Many years before, Plato’s Sokrates had already taken for granted that neither dramatic poets nor actors could successfully cross the generic boundary between tragedy and comedy. Whoever distinguished himself in one could not, by the very nature of mimesis, prove proficient in both. [27] His argument is not fully developed. It appears to depend on the assumption that excellence requires the single-minded pursuit of a goal; and that mimesis, by taking one away from his true self, breaks the requisite unity of being. A similar point of view, but with quite different arguments, is put forth at Iōn 534c3–4: now the boundaries between the several compositional genres are set not by personal ability but by the Muse’s gift of inspiration. The opposite case is defended at the end of the Symposium. [28] There is, however, a crucial distinction here. Sokrates speaks of ὁ τέχνῃ τραγῳδοποιὸς ὤν: if it be granted that the composition of tragic plays is a matter of τέχνη, it follows that one and the same composer can be both a tragedian and a comedian. With this agrees Cicero’s sentiment in the Orator. [29]

Thus, we have an acknowledgment, however fortuitous, of the dynamic of specialization that gave rise both to further refined specialties and to the drive by the more ambitious performers to master several of them. But this phenomenon cannot be merely reduced to a matter of bearing labels. We have epigraphical evidence that boundaries were crossed even when the individual in question did not publicly own the corresponding titles. [30] A study of the degree to which professionals exceeded the limits of one specialty is partially hindered by the incompleteness of the inscribed record. It is hazardous, for example, to equate various instances of the same name if the identity of patronymic and place of origin (ethnic or demotic vel sim.) cannot be established. As far as the data in our possession allow us to determine it, the general trend is towards an increasing versatility or willingness to exceed in practice one’s putative area of expertise. Just to offer an illustration: Sifakis (1967:119) observes that the same persons are sometimes called χοροδιδάσκαλοι, sometimes ὑποδιδάσκαλοι. The old canonical distinction (reflected, for example, by Photios s.v. ὑποδιδάσκαλος) lay between the poet, the διδάσκαλος, and his aid, the ὑποδιδάσκαλος, who was more narrowly concerned with the chorus (ὁ τῶι χορῶι καταλέγων). [31] As the artists traveled around and put on the same performance in the absence of the poet, presumably the ὑποδιδάσκαλος would act as producer. The old opposition was no longer applicable, and the more specific term χοροδιδάσκαλος may now be used to express the added responsibility, while still maintaining the focus on the training of the chorus. A certain Elpinikos, for example, who visited Delphi in 130/29 BC as representative of his guild was described as a tragic ὑποδιδάσκαλος (IG Ⅱ/Ⅲ2 1132.46, 72). Two years later, as participant in the second Pythaïs, he was called χοροδιδάσκαλος (SIG3 698.28) and was also numbered among those who sang the paean (SIG3 698.15). [32] But at the first Pythaïs he conducted the choir of boys with Kleon the χοροδιδάσκαλος (FD Ⅲ 2, 11.20–22). [33] Sifakis (1967:120) concludes: “Evidently therefore the hypodidaskaloi were qualified musicians, competent to conduct a purely musical performance.” We need not, however, press to the corollary that in the second and first centuries BC there was no difference between χοροδιδάσκαλοι and ὑποδιδάσκαλοι. There might have been flexibility in labeling professionals not because the terms were entirely interchangeable, but because the ethos of the professional association allowed for exploration and the acquisition of ever greater expertise in activities related to one’s original training. Crossing terminological boundaries was coextensive with a real broadening of technical purview.

This same dynamic was at work at the interface between the dramatic and the rhapsodic trades, and the proliferation of such cross-over in Hellenistic and Roman imperial times was only the logical consequence of the increased professionalism and the mutual influence to which the practices peculiar to the several performers were subjected as they interacted one with another in the context of tightly articulated artistic associations. [34] Using the ground-breaking study by Stephanēs 1988, which includes the fullest prosopography of artists to date, Chaniotis 1990 has collected the following cases in which rhapsodic performance is combined with some other specialty: [35] For my purposes, it is significant that 2–4 and 6 provide six cases in which professional performers are explicitly known to have practiced both as a rhapsode and as an actor. The numbers are small, surely owing to the unlikelihood that the versatility and accomplishments of a given artist in more than one area of expertise would be recorded and the record would survive. The evidence, therefore, is significant well beyond its numbers, and it is doubtless in agreement with the kinship between rhapsody and acting this book explores. [38] Taking all the disciplines into account, we find that most of the combinations show activities that are closely related in their practices. This is predictable, for the training in one made the performer, if not proficient, at least able to try his hand at the others. So, for example, the trained voice of the singer would stand him in good stead as an actor; or the tragic actor, who often sang arias on stage, could with relative ease compete as a singer, especially if (as Chaniotis 1990:93 suggests) he did so with memorable excerpts from plays in which he had acted. This can also be said of those who combined acting and rhapsody: voice, stage presence, and scripted delivery all contributed to the cross-over; the artist need only add the corresponding works to his repertoire. Thus, Chaniotis (1990:93) seems justified in concluding that, “Trotz der häufigen Kombination mehrerer Tätigkeiten, dürfen wir also tatsächlich von einer Spezialisierung reden; es handelt sich zwar nicht immer um eine Spezialisierung in einer bestimmten Tätigkeit, aber doch einer Spezialisierung im Bereich der Kunst.”

12.3 Rhapsodes in the Inscriptional Record

I argued above (§8.3.3) that the association of the epic meter with elevation of style and solemnity of purpose goes back to its religious roots in prophetic and mantic poetry. Indeed, what I have called ‘revelatory’ poetry [42] made dactylic hexameter the meter of choice. The Homeric poems had acquired the status of cultural icons by the time Aristotle classified the heroic meter as σεμνός (Rhetoric 1408b32). Therefore, its selection by the poetic tradition of Greek praise—to which, as we shall see presently, [43] the production of the ‘poet of epics’ bears a close relation—was natural: it would serve well to celebrate individuals, peoples, cities, islands, countries, or any other subject connected with the circumstances of performance (its location, the performer, his audience, a patron or an influential citizen, etc.). [44] As Weil (1900b:243) observed, the Greeks did not speak of the ἐπικὸς ποιητής (nor τραγικός or κωμικός, for that matter), because at first ποιητής meant not ‘poet’, but ‘maker’: thus, not ‘epic maker’ but ‘maker of epics’ (whereas ‘epic poet’ would have been quite natural). Inscriptional nomenclature was conservative and, even when equating ποιητής with poet became common, it held to the old label. This does not rule out the conjecture that ordinarily the poet of epics would have declaimed his own works. Therefore, the opposition ‘rhapsode vs. poet of epics’ could be formulated either as ‘performer of traditional epic vs. performer of new epic’ or as ‘performer of epic vs. composer of epic’. Clearly, one cannot definitely rule out the possibility that, on occasion, the rhapsode might have declaimed what the poet of epics had composed. If so, the competition would have recognized the victorious performer as performer, and the victorious composer as composer. But we must assume that the traditional rhapsodic competition continued after the model of classical festivals, with the rhapsode declaiming the traditional repertoire (Homer, Hesiod, Arkhilokhos, and others); and that festivals gave increasing recognition to the more recent composer-performer of epic (for whom, in classical times, Antimakhos of Kolophon provides a ready model), who made the rounds of local festivals with compositions in honor of the cities, rulers, heroes, or gods connected with the celebration at which he would compete (ἀγών) or offer a show of skill (ἐπίδειξις).

Pallone (1984:161), in trying to identify the earliest instance of ‘poet of epics’, accepts the very tentative reconstruction of SEG 3.368 [ἐπῶν ποιητ]ής, but inexplicably dates the inscription to the fourth century BC; the editor, however, dates it to the second century BC. (Cf. Steph. 2909, who himself dates it to the middle of the second century BC, specifically, to Ⅱ.2/3.) [45] The scarcity in the inscriptional record of individuals that can be persuasively argued to have been both poet and rhapsode argues for a stubborn separation between the traditional and the new repertoire, a reflection perhaps of an attitude of narrow engagement best exemplified by Plato’s Ion, who vehemently denied any interest in poets (even traditional ones) other than Homer. [46] The only instance I am familiar with of an individual qualified both as ῥαψῳδός and [ποιη]τής is Πόπλιος Αἴλιος Πομπηϊανὸς Παίων (Steph. 1979), from the famous inscription of the Colossus of Memnon. [47] In his case the appellative is to be taken broadly: he is called [ποιη]τοῦ πλειστονείκου, μελοποιοῦ καὶ ῥαψ[ῳδοῦ] ‖ [θε]οῦ Ἀδριανοῦ, at a time when the various Western synods of τεχνῖται of Dionysos had been consolidated into one imperial association. As his title ‘rhapsode of the divine Hadrian’ shows, his labor is too closely associated with the imperial cult to serve as an adequate illustration of a performer who was both a regular rhapsode and a poet. [48]

The relationship between the poet of epics and the encomiastic tradition is undeniable, and we should not be surprised to find that with increasing refinements in the competitive categories—probably responding to the rise of the prose encomium—the label ‘poet of epics’ would have given way to ‘epic encomium’. [49] There are inscriptions, however, where ‘epic encomium’ and ‘poet of epics’ coexist, e.g. IG Ⅶ 416.9, 13 (=EO 422 no. 523.9, 13): the epic encomiast is [Δ]ημοκλῆς Ἀμινίου Θηβαῖος (Steph. 645), known from Papagiannopoulos (1947–1948:75.20), not surprisingly, as an ἐπῶν ποιητής; [50] and the poet of epics is Ἀγαθοκλῆς Θεοδοσίου Νεαπολίτης (Steph. 26), not otherwise known. Another instance of this close connection is the double victory of Μήστωρ Μήστορος Φωκαιεύς (Steph. 1686) under [ἐ]πικόν and ἐπῶν ποιητής at the Ἀμφιαράϊα καὶ Ῥωμαῖα of Ōrōpos (IG Ⅶ 418.5, 9 = EO 426 no. 524.6, 10). [51] It is impossible to say with certainty what the precise difference between these two competitive events must have been. Possibly, just a distinction in the subject matter: an individual vis-à-vis a deity or a city? It is clear, however, that whatever overlap these categories enjoyed did not prevent their joint appearance at the Amphiaraia of Ōrōpos in the first century BC, as witnessed by IG Ⅶ 416, 418, 419, 420 (=EO nos. 523, 524, 526, and 528). [52] The contemporaneous IG Ⅶ 2727, however, from the Soteria at Akraiphia, [53] features ἐνκωμίῳ λογικῷ and ἐπῶν ποιητής, but no ἐνκωμίῳ ἐπικῷ. This confirms the intuition that the poetry of the poet of epics and the epic encomium are closely related, with the latter a peculiar instantiation of the former, perhaps openly incorporating, in epic meter, the rhetorical conventions of the prose encomium as to subject matter, arrangement, or the like.

12.3.1 Prosopography of rhapsodes

Ⅵ Century BC

1. Κύναιθος Χῖος (Steph. 1521, Ⅵ/V) ῥαψῳδός

V Century BC

2. Νικήρατος (Steph. 1817, V.3–4) (ῥαψῳδός)

Aristotle Rhetoric 1413a6–9: [ἔστι] καὶ τὸν Νικήρατον φάναι Φιλοκτήτην εἶναι δεδηγμένον ὑπὸ Πράτυος, ὥσπερ εἴκασε Θρασύμαχος ἰδὼν τὸν Νικήρατον ἡττημένον ὑπὸ Πράτυος ῥαψῳδοῦντα, κομῶντα δὲ καὶ αὐχμηρὸν ἔτι. Aristotle’s mention of Thrasymakhos, surely the sophist from Chalcedon made famous by Plato in the Republic, [67] places the floruit of Nikeratos during the second half of the fifth century BC. Three other instances of ‘Nikeratos’ have been variously related one to another and to the Aristotelian namesake. The first is the son of the Athenian general Nikias, [68] who according to Xenophon was compelled by his father to learn the poetry of Homer and could recite the entire Iliad and Odyssey by heart (Symposion 3.5, 4.6). [69] A second Nikeratos, called ἐποποιός by Markellinos (Life of Thoukydidēs 29), like Euripides, Agathon, and other Greek intellectuals, is supposed to have resided for a time at the court of the Makedonian king Arkhelaos. [70] Plutarch Lysandros features the third Nikeratos, this one ‘of Herakleia’. He is said by Douris of Samos to have bested Antimakhos of Kolophon at the festival of Hera, which in honor of Lysander the Samians had renamed Lysandreia. [71] Scholars differ in their identifications of these four figures. Diehl thinks the ἐποποιός to have been the same as Nikeratos of Herakleia (RE XⅦ, col. 313 s.v. “Nikeratos [2]”). The son of Nikias, in turn, is conventionally assumed to be the (Athenian?) Nikeratos mentioned by Aristotle in connection with Thrasymakhos (Reincke RE XⅦ, col. 313 s.v. “Nikeratos [1]”). This fits the notion that as an amateur he was defeated by the professional Pratys (so Cope 1877:3.139). Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1924:1.103n4) apparently identified the Herakleian Nikeratos with the Aristotelian and others have followed his lead (e.g. Diehl in RE XⅦ, columns 313–314). But unless we assume that Plutarch was wrong to write Ἡρακλεώτου, Wilamowitz’s equation seems impossible. [72] Plutarch, moreover, did not know who this Nikeratos was (as the τινός shows) [73] and therefore cannot have thought him to be the son of Nikias.

3. Πράτυς (Steph. 2141, V.3–4) (ῥαψῳδός)

Aristotle Rhetoric 1413a6–9. See item 2 immediately above.

Ⅳ Century BC

5. Κλεομένης (Steph. 1445, V/Ⅳ) ῥαψῳδός

Diogenes Laertios 8.63: αὐτοὺς δὲ τούτους τοὺς Καθαρμοὺς [ἐν] Ὀλυμπίασι ῥαψῳδῆσαι λέγεται Κλεομένη τὸν ῥαψῳδόν, ὡς καὶ Φαβωρῖνος ἐν Ἀπομνημονεύμασι. Athenaios 14.620d1–3: τοὺς δ’ Ἐμπεδοκλέους Καθαρμοὺς ἐραψῴδησεν Ὀλυμπίασι Κλεομένης ὁ ῥαψῳδός, ὥς φησιν Δικαίαρχος ἐν τῷ Ὀλυμπικῷ (XⅣ.12.20–22). For Favorinus’ fragment see Mensching 1963:92–93 F18; for Dikaiarkhos’, Wehrli 1944:31 fr. 87 and Mirhady 2001:86–89 fr. 85.

Ⅲ Century BC

11. Ἀγαθῖνος Κριτοδήμο[υ Σικ]υώνιος (Steph. 18, Ⅲ.2) ῥα[ψωι]δός

Nachtergael 1977:420 no. 9, line 9. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 258/57 or 254/53 BC.

12. Ἀρισταγό[ρας] (Steph. 306, Ⅲ.2) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:408 no. 3, line 5. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, ca. 265–258 BC.

13. Ἀριστείδης Ἀρίστωνος [ . . . . . ]ς (Steph. 318, Ⅲ.2) ῥα[ψωι]δός

Nachtergael 1977:420 no. 9, line 10. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 258/57 or 254/53 BC.

14. Ἀριστομένης Ἀριστομένου [ . . . . . ]ιος (Steph. 362, Ⅲ.2) ῥα[ψωι]δός

Nachtergael 1977:420 no. 9, line 11. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 258/57 or 254/53 BC.

15. Ἀρχέλας Θετταλός (Steph. 435, Ⅲ.1) ῥαψῳδός

IG Ⅺ.2 105.27. In Delos in 284 BC. He is listed with the other artists under the heading οἵδε ἐπεδείξαντο τῶι θεῶι (line 16).

16. Γλαῦκος Ἀθηναῖος (Steph. 549, Ⅲ.1) ῥαψῳδός

IG Ⅺ.2 105.28. In Delos in 284 BC. He is listed under the heading οἵδε ἐπεδείξαντο τῶι θεῶι (line 16). Cf. PA 1.196 no. 2991 and PAA 4.271 no. 276007.

18. Εὐθ]ύδημος Χάρητος Ἀθηναῖος (Steph. 948, Ⅲ.2) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:423 no. 10, lines 9–10. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 257/56 or 253/52 BC. Cf. PA 1.359 no. 5523 and PAA 7.241 no. 432200.

20. Ζηνόδοτος Σωπάτρου Ἀντιοχεύς ἀπὸ Πυρά[μου] (Steph. 1024, Ⅲ.4) ῥαψῳδός

IG Ⅶ 1762.5 (=Jamot 1895:333–334 no. 7 = IThesp 163 = Manieri 2009:376–378 Thes. 18). The overlap of names with Jamot 1895:332–333 no. 6 (=IThesp 161 = Manieri 2009:374–376 Thes. 17) convincingly ties no. 7 to the Μουσεῖα of Thespiai. [94] Feyel (1942:113) persuasively argues that two celebrations of the Μουσεῖα, even if chronologically close, can hardly have had the same winners in five different categories. Yet this would be the case unless no. 6 and no. 7 refer to one and the same festival. [95] And although scholars have followed Jamot (1895:346) in thinking them to be “séparées l’une de l’autre par quelques années à peine,” there is in fact no need to do so. For line 8 of no. 6 refers clearly to οἱ νικήσαντες τὸν θυμ[ε]λ[ικόν]; and hence it is only natural that it would merely list those events reclassified under the umbrella of the στεφανίτης θυμελικὸς ἀγών. Whereas no. 7 would be a fragment of the complete catalog of victors, with the addition of those events that had not been reorganized as στεφανῖται (see more on this immediately below). If we adopt this more plausible assumption, then no. 7 dates from the same time as no. 6, namely, ca. 210–203 BC. [96] The competitive events that survive on no. 7 are: ποητὴς ἐπῶ̣ [ν], ῥαψωιδός, αὐλητής, αὐλωιδός, κιθαριστής, κιθαρωιδός, and ἐπινίκια. Concerning the third-century BC reorganization of the Μουσεῖα by Thespiai and the Boiotian league, we learn from the decree of the Isthmian and Nemean koinon ratifying it [97] that recognition as στεφανίτης ἰσοπύθιος was sought for a θυμελικὸς ἀγών of αὐλητῶν καὶ αὐλωιδῶν καὶ κιθαριστῶν καὶ κιθαρωιδῶν καὶ ἐπῶν ποητῇ (sic). [98] ῥαψωιδῶν is conspicuously absent from this list, which has led some to conclude that its appearance in no. 7 was an innovation. [99] But, if Jamot’s no. 6 and no. 7 are mutually related as I proposed above, this does not mean that initially rhapsodes did not take part in the reorganized festival; only that their competition remained θεματικός. There is no question, of course, that as a competitive category, if desirable, it could have been suitably subsumed under the adjective θυμελικός. [100] Both as a professional trade and a competitive category, rhapsody was more traditional than the events reorganized as στεφανῖται. Although popular with the festival public, rhapsodes perhaps fell short of the acclaim given to the artists selected for the more prestigious penteteric thymelic festival. [101] This would explain their exclusion from it. Surely rhapsodes still competed for a monetary award at the yearly Mouseia and at the more prestigious, penteteric version of the yearly festival that accompanied the penteteric thymelic ἀγών. [102]

21. Ἡγησίας (Steph. 1055, Ⅲ.2/3) κωμῳδός, (ῥαψῳδός)

Called ὁ κωμῳδός in Athenaios 14.620d6, it is hard to see how his performance of Hesiod could have been a parergon of his skill as a comic actor. (For Meineke’s emendation τὰ Ἡσιόδου see above, §12.1 n. 25.) This Hēgēsias is therefore rightly classed as a rhapsode. O’Connor (1908:98 no. 209) suggests that his name should be restored in IG Ⅱ/Ⅲ2 2325.228 (=Mette 1977:180 V.C2 col. 6.14; cf. Steph. 1244). But the photograph in Wilhelm 1906:152–153 shows that, although the name may well start with η, the final ς must be its fifth (less likely, sixth) letter. Ἡγησίας will not fit the space. It is perhaps for this reason that Mette (1977 ad loc.) does not receive O’Connor’s suggestion. Fanciful is O’Connor’s further conjecture that this Ἡγησίας is the son of the [ . . . . . . . ] Ἡγησ[ίου] Ἀθηναῖος in Wörrle 1988:415 no. 7.58. See, further, Capps 1900:134 and item 17 above, §12.3.1.

22. Καλλίας Ἀρχετίμου Συρακ[όσιος] (Steph. 1325, Ⅲ.2) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:409 no. 4, line 13. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, ca. 265–258 BC.

23. Κλειτόριος Ἀριστείδου Ἀρκάς (Steph. 1429, Ⅲ.2) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:409 no. 4, line 12; 413 no. 7, line 11; 416 no. 8, line 10; 423 no. 10, line 8–9. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, ca. 265–252 BC.

24. Νικίας (Steph. 1820, Ⅲ.4) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:481 no. 65, line 7. Αἰτωλικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 217/16 BC.

26. Π[     (Steph. 1971, Ⅲ.3) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:476 no. 59, line 6. Αἰτωλικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 241/40 BC.

27. Πολύμνηστος Ἀλεξάνδρου Ἀρκάς (Steph. 2106, Ⅲ.2) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:413 no. 7, line 10. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 260/59 or 256/55 BC.

28. Πυθοκλῆς Ἀριστάρχου Ἑρμιονεύς (Steph. 2174, Ⅲ.2) ἱερεὺς τῶν τεχνιτῶν, (ἀνὴρ χορευτής), [αὐλῳ]δός, [ῥαψῳ]δός

Nachtergael 1977:429–430 no. 15bis, lines 9–10. The restoration [ῥαψῳ]δός is uncertain (see his discussion at 321). Other occurrences of this artist in [406 no. 2bis, line 4]; 408 no. 3, lines 3–4 and 14–15; 409 no. 4, lines 7–8; [411 no. 5, line 9]; 417 no. 8, lines 30–31; 428 no. 15, line 1. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, ca. 265–254 BC. Cf. Nachtergael 1977:317–318.

29. Σίμακ?]ος Σατύρου Ἀργεῖος (Steph. 2273, Ⅲ.3) (ῥαψωιδός)

Nachtergael 1977:478 no. 62, line 5. Αἰτωλικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 229/28 BC. Cf. Mitsos 1952:160 s.v. [ΣΙΜΑΚ]ΟΣ(;).

30. Φιλοκράτης Λυσίππου Ἀργεῖος (Steph. 2530, Ⅲ.4) [ῥαψ]ωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:482 no. 66, line 7. Αἰτωλικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 213/12 or 205/204 BC. Cf. Mitsos 1952:188 s.v. ΦΙΛΟΚΡΑΤΗΣ.

31. [ . . 4–5 . . ]ν Θρασωνίδου Σινωπεύς (Steph. 2729, Ⅲ.2) ῥα[ψωι]δός

Nachtergael 1977:416 no. 8, line 11. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 259/58 or 255/54 BC.

32.    ]ράτης Καλλιφ[    (Steph. 2762, Ⅲ.2) (ῥαψωιδός)

Nachtergael 1977:411 no. 5, line 11. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 262/61 or 258/57 BC.

33.     ]ς Ἀθηναῖος (Steph. 2886, Ⅲ.2) (ῥαψωιδός)

Nachtergael 1977:411 no. 5, line 12. Ἀμφικτυονικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 262/61 or 258/57 BC.

34. Ι̣ΑΛΛΗΣ (Steph. 2979, Ⅲ.4) ῥαψωιδός

Nachtergael 1977:483 no. 68, line 6. Αἰτωλικὰ Σωτήρια of Delphi, perhaps in 205/204 or 209/208 BC. Apud Nachtergael ad loc.: “ΙΑΛΛΗΣ Flacelière (‘Je crois lire Φ̣ ΑΛΛΗΣ ou Ψ̣ ΑΛΛΗΣ’). Βυδάλης(?) ou . . ΥΛΛΗΣ, peut-être Εὐάδης Jardé. ΑΛΛΗΣ Nikitsky. Κ̣ αλλίας Klaffenbach (sur estampage).”

Ⅱ Century BC

37. Εἴρανος Φρυνίδου Ταναγραῖος (Steph. 822, Ⅱ.4–I.1 [107] ) κῆρυξ, ῥαψῳδός, κωμῳδός, [τραγ]ῳδός

IG Ⅶ 416.25 (=EO 421–426 no. 523 = Manieri 2009:243–245 Oro. 16, with commentary at 252–253). Ἴρανος appears as a victorious κωμῳδός in the Ἀμφιάρᾳα καὶ Ῥωμαῖα of Ōrōpos (the name of the festival is an editorial supplement; for the reconstruction of lines 1–2 see Petrakos 1997:423–424). The date of this inscription is discussed immediately above, n. 109. The corresponding rhapsode is Ἀρτέμων Ἰσιδότου Ἀθηναῖος, for whom see below, §12.3.1 item 42.

IG Ⅶ 543.1, 3 (=Manieri 2009:278–279 Tan. 4). In line 3 he appears under [τρα]γῳδός (before ποιητάς); under what designation he is listed in line 1 is uncertain.

38. Μιλτιάδης Διονυσίου (Χῖος) (Steph. 1708, Ⅱ) ῥαψῳδός

SIG3 959.9, ῥαψωιδίας (=Boeckh CIG 2214 = McCabe IChios 57). For the date see Michel 1900:737 no. 898.

I Century BC

42. Ἀρτέμων Ἰσιδότου Ἀθηναῖος (Steph. 422, I.1) ῥαψῳδός

IG Ⅶ 416.11–12 (=EO 421–426 no. 523 = Manieri 2009:243–245 Oro. 16, with commentary at 252–253). [τῶν Ἀμφιαράων καὶ Ῥωμαίων] of Ōrōpos.

PA 1.155 no. 2276 (PAA 3.309 no. 206775), brother of Στράτων (Steph. 2318; in EO no. 523.30–33, inscribed between the columns). The ῥαψῳδός precedes the ἐπῶν ποιητής. Although it is possible that he may have performed a new composition by the epic poet, lines 27ff. suggest that the composer should precede the corresponding performer. Thus it is more likely that the rhapsode performed the traditional repertoire (certainly Homer, perhaps Hesiod or even Arkhilokhos), while the epic poet performed his own composition. For the date, see above, §12.3.1 n. 109.

46. Εἱέρων Ἀριστοβούλου Θηβαῖος (Steph. 820, I.1–2) ῥαψῳδός

47. Θεόδοτος Πυθίωνος Ἀθηναῖος (Steph. 1146, I.1) (ᾠδός), ῥαψῳδός, (τραγικὸς συναγωνιστής)

Cf. PA 1.440 no. 6782 with Sundwall 1910:92 and PAA 9.113 no. 505245.

49. Κάλλων Κάλλωνος (Ἀθηναῖος) (Steph. 1368, I.1) (ᾠδός) ῥαψῳδός (τραγικὸς συναγωνιστής)

Tracy 1975:61.27–28, 62.44 and 50. Fourth Pythaïs to Delphi (98/97 BC). See above, §12.3.1, item 47. Cf. O’Connor 1908:110 no. 284, Sifakis 1967:171, and Ghiron-Bistagne 1976:336.

50. Κράτων Κλέωνος Θηβαῖος (Steph. 1502, I.1) ῥαψῳδός





EO no. 523 EO no. 524











line event
5 [κῆρυξ]
7 [ἐνκωμίωι λογικῶι]
9 ἐνκωμίωι ἐπικῶι
11 ῥαψῳδός
13 ἐπῶν ποιητής
15 αὐλητής
17 κιθαριστής











line event
1 [κῆρυξ]
3 ἐγκώμιον καταλογ̣άδη̣ [ ν]
5 [ἐ]πικόν
7 ῥαψῳδός
9 ἐπῶν ποιητής
11 αὐλητής
13 κιθαριστής

IG Ⅶ 3195.11–12 (=Del3 529 = Manieri 2009:199–200 Orc. 23, with commentary at 205–207). [132] τὰ Χαριτείσια of Orkhomenos. In the affected Boiotian dialect of the inscription (cf. Schwyzer ad loc. and Gossage 1975:121) the name is spelled Κράτων Κλίωνος Θειβεῖος and his category, ῥαψαϝυδός. Here ποειτάς precedes ῥαψαϝυδός, but none of the listed categories establish a preferred order for composer and performer. There is therefore no reason to infer that the rhapsode would have performed anything other than the traditional repertoire. IG Ⅶ 3196 and 3197, moreover, similarly from the Χαριτήσια of Orkhomenos and, according to Dittenberger, contemporaneous with IG Ⅶ 3195, [133] list the rhapsode before the poet: ῥαψῳδός 6, ποητής 8 in 3196; ῥαψῳδός 7, ποητὴς ἐπῶν 9 in 3197. And IG Ⅶ 3197.24–34 makes πο(ι)ητής (σατύρων, τραγῳδιῶν, and κωμῳδιῶν) precede the corresponding victorious ὑποκριτής. The care taken in 3197.50 to repeat κωμῳδιῶν ποιητής for Alexandros, now victor in the category of τὰ ἐπινίκια, perhaps makes the relative order of the events worthy of special attention: it would have been more economical to list him only once, but since ‘epinician’ traditionally belonged after the dramatic events, Alexandros reappears at the end of the inscription, with the additional note of his triumph as comic poet.

Cf. Koumanoudēs 1979:129 no. 1215.

51. Μέντωρ Ἀπολλοδώρου Ἡρακλεώτης (Steph. 1667, I.1) ῥαψῳδός

53. Ξενόφαντος Εὐμάχου (Ἀθηναῖος) (Steph. 1913, I.1) (ᾠδός) ῥαψῳδός (τραγικὸς συναγωνιστής)

Tracy 1975:62.38, 44, and 51. Fourth Pythaïs to Delphi (98/97 BC). See above, §12.3.1, item 47. Cf. Ghiron-Bistagne 1976:349.

I Century AD

56. Νεικομήδη[ς] (Κῷος) (Steph. 1782, I/Ⅱ AD) ᾄδων ⟨θ⟩υμέλαισιν Ὅμηρο⟨ν⟩

IG Ⅱ/Ⅲ2 9145.5–8. Epitaph from Athens. Following Kaibel (1878:34 no. 101) and Kirchner ad loc., Gangloff (2010:56–57) wonders whether Νεικομήδη[ς] might not be a homēristēs rather than a rhapsode. But the mention of θυμέλαι is perfectly compatible with the traditional rhapsody of the time, and there is no question that the language of the epitaph is profoundly traditional. If the artist turned out to be a homēristēs, this item should be added to the evidence that speaks for the continuity in the manner of performance of both types of professionals.

57. [—] [Φι]λοκράτους Θη[βαῖος] (Steph. 2846, I/Ⅱ AD) ([ῥαψῳδό]ς)

Bizard 1920:262 no. 12 (=Manieri 2009, 122 Arc. 20). A very small fragment of a catalog of victors from either the Ptoia or the Soteria of Akraiphia, for which the editor restores [σαλπιγκτής], [κῆρυ]ξ, and [ῥαψῳδό]ς. The date is by Roesch 1982:226 no. 5.

Cf. Koumanoudēs 1979:222 no. 28.

Ⅱ Century AD

63.       ]ν̣ου Ὑπαταῖος (Steph. 2859, Ⅱ.3 AD) ([ῥαψῳδ]ός)

SEG 3.334, line 30 = IThesp 177, whose text I follow (=Manieri 2009:414–416 Thes. 43, with commentary at 418–419). Μουσεῖα of Thespiai, ca. AD 160. Roesch (1982:181 no. 4) and IThesp 177 date it to “vers 150–160 ou postérieur à 169 p. C.” (taken over by Manieri 2009 ad loc.).

Ⅲ Century AD

64. Μᾶρκος Αὐρήλιος Εὔκαιρος Ταναγραῖος (Steph. 955, Ⅲ.1 AD) κῆρυξ, ῥαψῳδός

IG Ⅶ 1776.15–16 (=Manieri 2009:422–423 Thes. 49). See Strasser (2002:112–124), who prints a text in 112–113 and dates the inscription to shortly after AD 212 (cf. SEG 52.511). The festival appears as τῶν | μεγάλων Καισαρήων | Σεβαστήων Μουσεί|[ω]ν (i.e. the Mouseia of Caesar Augustus). The name of the artist was inscribed as Μ(ᾶρκος) Αὐρή(λιος) Εὔκαιρος Ταναγραῖος. The order of events is σαλπικτής, κῆρυξ, ῥαψῳδός, πυθικὸς αὐλητής, πυθικὸς κιθαριστής, κύκλιος αὐλητής, etc. Dated to a time in the third century after Caracalla’s citizenship edict of AD 212 (cf. Schachter 1981:2.179 no. xⅺ), the festival program has been shortened vis-à-vis the one in effect towards the middle of the second century AD (cf. IG Ⅶ 1773 and Ringwood 1927:50). Note, in particular, that there is no competition for poets of epics or for any sort of encomia.

Εὔκαιρος Ταναγραῖος appears one other time in Bizard 1903:297.9–10, 12 (=Manieri 2009:125–128 Acr. 24) as victor, respectively, in heraldry (κηρύκων) and rhapsody (ῥαψῳδῶν) at the Ptoia of Akraiphia (τῶν πενταετηρικῶν Πτωΐων Καισαρείων). The events were: σαλπικτῶν, κηρύκων, ποιητῶν, ῥαψῳδῶν, πυθικ[ῶν αὐ]λητῶν, κυκλίων [αὐλητῶν], and κιθα[ριστῶν] (the inscription breaks at this point). The text details explicitly that the poet ‘carried off a double prize according to the arrangements’.

Footnotes

[ back ] 1. See above, §11.2.

[ back ] 2. For an older in-depth summary of the Διονυσιακοὶ τεχνῖται see Poland 1934. Shorter surveys are Ghiron-Bistagne 1976:163–171; Pickard-Cambridge 1988:279–321, 365; and Aneziri 2009. Le Guen 2001 and Aneziri 2003 provide excellent comprehensive updates. One should also consult Sifakis 1967 passim (esp. Appendix Ⅱ on the organization of festivals and the Dionysiac guilds).

[ back ] 3. See above, §11.2.1 n. 95.

[ back ] 4. See Aneziri 2009:223–224, who underlines the role of Hellenistic kings, political confederations, and religious associations in the organization of many festivals. “Precisely because of the increase in the number of contests and of their geographical expansion, it became increasingly difficult to organize them successfully. This required frequent movements of artists and careful coordination in order to meet the minimum needs of contests, which frequently coincided in date” (Aneziri 2009:224).

[ back ] 5. In classical times, only the Olympic, Pythian, Isthmian, and Nemean contests, all Panhellenic, enjoyed the status of ‘sacred’, i.e. they were ἱεροὶ καὶ στεφανῖται because they did not offer money but crowns as prizes. Victors were called ἱερονῖκαι and στεφανῖται (Aneziri 2003:329), and ultimately their reward came from the official recognition of their triumph by their own cities. In exchange for their share of glory their native poleis would grant prerogatives that often entailed material compensation, e.g. the right to ἀτέλεια (exemption from some public burden) or to dine at public expense (Golden 1998:76). One such privilege was the right to drive into the city (εἰσελαύνειν) to public acclaim—the corresponding contest, in imperial times, being labeled εἰσελαστικός (Frisch 1986:38). Competitions that offered money prizes were called θεματικοὶ/θεματῖται or ταλαντιαῖοι ἀγῶνες (Golden 1998:33 and Aneziri 2003:329). Becoming a sacred victor would increase the likelihood of making even more money in the lesser games or in private engagements for the wealthy, who often rewarded participation with handsome sums. On all these matters see Robert 1989. Golden 1998 offers a concise introduction to ancient Greek sport. For the different categories of games, see Pleket 1975:56–71, Spawforth 1989, and Parker 2004.

[ back ] 6. Rhapsodes qua rhapsodes did feature as members of the synods and are epigraphically attested among them (Aneziri 2003:208n30 and 428 s.v. ῥαψῳδοί). One cannot rule out that the label homēristēs was ever applied to any of them during the Hellenistic period, when the term was first coined and did not yet refer to the out-and-out histrionic performer of Homer.

[ back ] 7. Cf. Aneziri 2003:425–428 table 3. These and other specialties may also be traced through the index in Stephanēs 1988:556–593.

[ back ] 8. For the meaning of διδάσκαλος, χοροδιδάσκαλος, and ὑποδιδάσκαλος see Sifakis 1967:80–81 and 119–120.

[ back ] 9. Cf. Pickard-Cambridge 1988:99–100 and IG Ⅱ/Ⅲ2 2318.202–203, 317–318 (=Mette 1977:27 col. 10.11–12 and 35 col. 15.14–15). See also Aneziri 2003:212–213.

[ back ] 10. IG Ⅻ.6.1 173. 3 (=Mette 1977:49–50 Ⅱ.C1a.α; ante med. Ⅱ BC); SEG 36.473? (=Roesch IThesp 168, who conjectures καινῆς instead of παλαιᾶς, but see the reservations voiced by Schachter 1981:2.171 no. Ⅶ and Manieri 2009:394–395 Thes. 28; Ⅱ.3–4/I BC); IG Ⅶ 420.25 (=Mette 1977:58 Ⅱ.C4d; ca. 80–50 BC), 1760.29 (=Mette 1977:58–59 Ⅱ.C5a = Roesch IThesp 172; early I BC). Cf. 1773.21 (=Mette 1977:59–60 Ⅱ.C5c = Roesch IThesp 178; Ⅱ.3–4 AD); and SEG 3.334.37 (=Mette 1977:60–61 Ⅱ.C5d = Roesch IThesp 177; ca. AD 150–160 or after AD 169). IThesp = Roesch 2007. Cf. Aneziri 2003:212n52.

[ back ] 11. SEG 36.473.3; IG Ⅶ 420.27, 1760.31, 1773.20; cf. SEG 3.334.35. For their dates and the corresponding numbers in Mette’s and Roesch’s editions, see the previous footnote.

[ back ] 12. Aneziri 2003:212–213.

[ back ] 13. See above, §11.2.1 n. 57.

[ back ] 14. Gangloff (2010:70) concludes that during Roman imperial times the more traditional rhapsodic performance was characteristic of mainland Greece (particularly, Boiotia): “L’art des rhapsodes semble donc avoir constitué à l’époque impériale une spécialisation artistique propre à la Grèce continentale, et en particulier à la Béotie, peut-être en relation avec le culte des Muses béotiennes et celui d’Apollon, le Musagète” (61). It is easy to understand why the innovations associated with the more emphatic stage presence of Roman imperial homēristai should have been more readily embraced in Asia Minor and Egypt, where epic performance practices were less long-standing. Gangloff (2010:59 with n. 29) helpfully lists the festivals at which rhapsodes are attested during the classical, Hellenistic, and Roman imperial periods (for “Mouseia de Delphes” in 59n29 read “Mouseia de Thespies”).

[ back ] 15. Just as the τραγῳδός and κωμῳδός, for whom no authoring poet played the role of διδάσκαλος. So Aneziri 2003:213n54, following Ghiron-Bistagne 1976: “Bref, dans les reprises les acteurs retrouvaient les responsabilités des anciens didascaloi” (123). This does not mean that didaskaloi (or hypodidaskaloi, in the case of the Athenian κοινόν) never assisted in the production, as the remarks in Sifakis 1967:80–81, 90, and 119–120 show. For inscriptional instances of διδάσκαλοι and ὑποδιδάσκαλοι, see Aneziri 2003:426–427.

[ back ] 16. Sophistical Refutations 180a20–21 and Metaphysics 1023a32–33, 1093a30. Cf. Herodotos 4.29 and 7.220.

[ back ] 17. Gangloff (2010:70) observes that in the epideictic and competitive settings the popularity of ‘poets of epics’ in Roman imperial times seems to have declined markedly from its peak during the Hellenistic period. She speculates that their functions in these contexts were responsible for the decline and that perhaps the better epic poets did not compete but appeared instead at πανηγύρεις or other public occasions (as was the case with sophists).

[ back ] 18. See above, §10.2.1 and §11.2.1.

[ back ] 19. Κλέαρχος δ’ ἐν τῷ προτέρῳ περὶ Γρίφων τὰ Ἀρχιλόχου, φησίν, [ὁ] Σιμωνίδης ὁ Ζακύνθιος ἐν τοῖς θεάτροις ἐπὶ δίφρου καθήμενος ἐραψῴδει (620c4–7).

[ back ] 20. Λυσανίας δ’ ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ περὶ Ἰαμβοποιῶν Μνασίωνα τὸν ῥαψῳδὸν λέγει ἐν ταῖς δείξεσι τῶν Σιμωνίδου τινὰς ἰάμβων ὑποκρίνεσθαι (620c7–10). For the emendation of the transmitted ‘Simonides’ to ‘Semonides’ see above, §11.1 n. 6. Nothing further is known about Mnasion (Steph[anēs] no. 1721) or Simonides of Zakynthos (Steph. 2281). For Stephanēs’s numbers see below, §12.2 n. 35.

[ back ] 21. For my translation of ὑποκρίνεσθαι as ‘to deliver’ see above, §10.2.1 with n. 69. Schweighäuser 1801–1807:7.372 writes: “Quod vero ὑποκρίνεσθαι carmina dicuntur rhapsodi, id sonat recitare cum gestu et actione. ‘Erat enim’ (ut perspecte idem Vir summus ibid. pag. 795 ait) ‘simillima recitatio actioni scenicae: et rhapsodi voce, vultu, gestu, ipsam rem reddebant, affectus movendo, lacrymis rem miserandam, terrore horrendam, redhibendo etc.’ Confer Wolfii Proleg. ad Hom. pag. 96.”

[ back ] 22. Cf. §11.2.1 n. 66 above.

[ back ] 23. Cf. §10.2.1 n. 72 above.

[ back ] 24. For the abbreviation “Steph.” see below, §12.3.1.

[ back ] 25. The transmitted reading, τὰ Ἡροδότου, was corrected by Meineke to τὰ Ἡσιόδου: “parum mihi credibile videtur Herodoti historias in theatro actas esse, quae res tam mihi mira visa est, ut Herodoto Hesiodi nomen substituere non dubitaverim” (Meineke 1867:297). The Etymologicum Magnum 411.43 s.v. ζήτρειον (col. 1175 Gaisford) ascribes a choliambic (ms. ‘choriambic’) fragment to a Ἡροδότῳ. Gaisford followed Ruhnken (1828:372n) in correcting the name to ‘Herodas’. Regarding the unrelated emendation of τὰ Ἡροδότου in Athenaios 14.620d, Bergk (1872–1887:1.1022) preferred Herodas to Hesiod. Crusius (1914:3–4 §2, with 4n) brought together these two unrelated suggestions approvingly (cf. 44n32). But while Ruhnken was doubtless right, the same cannot be said of Bergk and Crusius (or Citelli et al. 2001:4.1601n1). Kaibel’s text is properly sectioned: section 12 opens with οὐκ ἀπελείποντο δὲ ἡμῶν τῶν συμποσίων οὐδὲ ῥαψῳδοί, only to delve into nomenclature (‘rhapsodes’ vs. ‘homēristai’); section 13 opens with nomenclature, καὶ οἱ καλούμενοι δὲ ἱλαρῳδοί, only to assert that these performers συνεχῶς ἡμῖν ἐπεφαίνοντο. This chiastic parallel proves that section 12 is thematically self-contained. Since ‘rhapsodes’ are its ostensible topic, all the performers mentioned there should be considered ῥαψῳδοί unless the context demands otherwise. Athenaios must have regarded these individuals as rhapsodes because they were known to have performed passages from the standard rhapsodic repertoire (or, at least, dactylic hexameter verse—i.e. ‘epic’ poetry broadly conceived—that could be readily added to it). This repertoire included not only Homer, Hesiod, and Arkhilokhos, the acknowledged classics (on Arkhilokhos see above, §10.2.1), but also the epic poetry of Empedokles’ Purifications. The inclusion of Semonides’ iambs must have been a Hellenistic development that followed the precedent of Arkhilokhos. It was a natural extension insofar as they were considered contemporaries or near contemporaries and the two oldest canonical iambic poets. Whichever genre of Arkhilokhean poetry archaic and classical rhapsodes recited—whether it was epic or not (see above, §10.2.1)—this development proves that in the Hellenistic period their repertoire included his iambs. The text neither states nor implies that rhapsodes performed the elegies of Mimnermos too. Only for the sake of completion (ἔτι δέ 620c4) is he mentioned by Athenaios among those whose poetry was set to music (or ‘performed melodically’, μελῳδηθῆναι 620c2). The list of names is not original with Athenaios, but with Khamaileon from whom he takes it in full. That Homer, Hesiod, and Arkhilokhos make this list—not that Phokylides or Mimnermos also do—motivates Athenaios’ recourse to Khamaileon in the first place. The thematic focus on rhapsodes both justifies correcting τὰ Ἡροδότου and makes the emendation Herodas distinctly out of place. (For more on setting epic poetry to μέλος, see above, §11.2.1)

[ back ] 26. τοὺς δ’ Ἐμπεδοκλέους Καθαρμοὺς ἐραψῴδησεν Ὀλυμπίασι Κλεομένης ὁ ῥαψῳδός, ὥς φησιν Δικαίαρχος ἐν τῷ Ὀλυμπικῷ. Ἰάσων δ’ ἐν τρίτῳ περὶ τῶν Ἀλεξάνδρου Ἱερῶν ἐν Ἀλεξανδρείᾳ φησὶν ἐν τῷ μεγάλῳ θεάτρῳ ὑποκρίνασθαι Ἡγησίαν τὸν κωμῳδὸν τὰ Ἡσιόδου, Ἑρμόφαντον δὲ τὰ Ὁμήρου (620d1–7).

[ back ] 27. Republic 395a1–b1: —Σχολῇ ἄρα ἐπιτηδεύσει γέ τι ἅμα τῶν ἀξίων λόγου ἐπιτηδευμάτων καὶ πολλὰ μιμήσεται καὶ ἔσται μιμητικός, ἐπεί που οὐδὲ τὰ δοκοῦντα ἐγγὺς ἀλλήλων εἶναι δύο μιμήματα δύνανται οἱ αὐτοὶ ἅμα εὖ μιμεῖσθαι, οἷον κωμῳδίαν καὶ τραγῳδίαν ποιοῦντες. ἢ οὐ μιμήματε ἄρτι τούτω ἐκάλεις; —Ἔγωγε· καὶ ἀληθῆ γε λέγεις, ὅτι οὐ δύνανται οἱ αὐτοί. οὐδὲ μὴν ῥαψῳδοί γε καὶ ὑποκριταὶ ἅμα. —Ἀληθῆ. —Ἀλλ’ οὐδέ τοι ὑποκριταὶ κωμῳδοῖς τε καὶ τραγῳδοῖς οἱ αὐτοί· πάντα δὲ ταῦτα μιμήματα. ἢ οὔ; Note that the objection is extended to rhapsodes and actors.

[ back ] 28. Symposium 223d1–6: τὸ μέντοι κεφάλαιον, ἔφη, προσαναγκάζειν τὸν Σωκράτη ὁμολογεῖν αὐτοὺς τοῦ αὐτοῦ ἀνδρὸς εἶναι κωμῳδίαν καὶ τραγῳδίαν ἐπίστασθαι ποιεῖν, καὶ τὸν τέχνῃ τραγῳδοποιὸν ὄντα ⟨καὶ⟩ κωμῳδοποιὸν εἶναι. For a philosophical analysis of this contrast between the Iōn and the Symposium see Harris 2001.

[ back ] 29. Cicero Orator 109: “histriones eos vidimus quibus nihil posset in suo genere esse praestantius, qui non solum in dissimillimis personis satis faciebant, cum tamen in suis versarentur, sed et comoedum in tragoediis et tragoedum in comoediis admodum placere vidimus.” See also the statement in Aristotle Politics 1276b4–6.

[ back ] 30. Fundamental here is the study by Chaniotis 1990. See also the comments in O’Connor 1908:39–44 and Sifakis 1967:81, 119–120.

[ back ] 31. Theodoridis 1982–:3.535 no. 195. For the classical use of χοροδιδάσκαλος in connection with drama and lyric see E. Reisch in RE V 1, coll. 401–406 s.v. διδάσκαλος and in RE Ⅲ 2, col. 2441 s.v. χοροδιδάσκαλος.

[ back ] 32. For the Pythaïs see Colin 1905, Boëthius 1918, Daux 1936:521–583 (with an appendix at 708–729), Karila-Cohen 2005a, Karila-Cohen 2005b, and the other references cited in SEG 55.28.

[ back ] 33. Cf. SIG3 696b.

[ back ] 34. Chaniotis (1990:92–93) seems to work with too strict a definition of specialization when (to use our previous example) he questions whether we can truly consider Elpinikos a master of three specialties: singer, χοροδιδάσκαλος, and ὑποδιδάσκαλος (see his three presuppositions in 89). He is right, of course, that strictly speaking we only have parallel descriptions of a given individual’s activities, and these do not reveal what his training or apprenticeship might have been, or which of these activities (if any) was the primary one. But surely it is more important to realize that, moving at the highest professional levels, Elpinikos both had occasion and felt free to participate in the various capacities recorded, and that he was recognized and honored for it. As regards our focus on the degree to which such cross-over occurred, it is only a matter of relative interest whether he achieved the same level of proficiency and success in all of them. More significant is that the cross-over occurred at all.

[ back ] 35. The numbers refer to Stephanēs’s study in Stephanēs 1988, and the identifications and dates (as he gives them) are as follows. 2174: Πυθοκλῆς Ἀριστάρχου Ἑρμιονεύς, Ⅲ.2 (=second quarter of the third century BC). 1146: Θεόδοτος Πυθίωνος Ἀθηναῖος, I.1. 1368: Κάλλων Κάλλωνος (Ἀθηναῖος), I.1. 1913: Ξενόφαντος Εὐμάχου (Ἀθηναῖος), I.1. 908: Ἑρμόφαντος, Ⅲ.3. 1055: Ἡγησίας, Ⅲ.2/3. 1979: Πόπλιος Αἴλιος Πομπηϊανὸς Παίων Σιδήτης καὶ Ταρσεὺς καὶ Ῥόδιος, Ⅱ.2 AD. 822: Εἴρανος (or Ἴρανος) Φρυνίδου Ταναγραῖος, I.1–2 (on whom see Gossage 1975:126n21). 54: Ἀείμναστος Εὐφραίου Θηβαῖος, Ⅱ/I. 955: Μᾶρ. Αὐρ. Εὔκαιρος Ταναγραῖος, Ⅲ.4 AD. 956: Κορνήλιος Εὔκαρπος Ἀργεῖος, Ⅱ/Ⅲ AD. (For “X/Y” read ‘boundary between X and Y’; for “X–Y,” ‘period from X to Y.’)

[ back ] 38. Commenting on the entire record, not just the instances that include rhapsodes, Chaniotis (1990:93) writes: “Diese 126 Personen sind vielleicht prozentual gesehen eine sehr kleine Minderheit (weniger als 4%); angesichts jedoch der Lücken unserer Überlieferung ist diese Zahl eigentlich sehr hoch.”

[ back ] 39. Important studies on the ‘poet of epics’ are Frei 1900:57–59; Guarducci 1926–1929:631–640; Powell 1929; Pallone 1984; Fantuzzi apud Ziegler 1988:XXXⅣ–LXXXⅧ; and Gangloff 2010:63–70.

[ back ] 40. So, for example, Fantuzzi apud Ziegler 1988: “Il rhapsodós recitava opere di autori precedenti (più spesso di Omero, si può immaginare dal gradimento testimoniato per questo autore dai papiri … ; il poietès epôn recitava epica propria di tipo tradizionale, cioè mitologica oppure storico-locale” (XXXⅥ).

[ back ] 41. See above, §12.1.

[ back ] 42. See above, §8.1.2.

[ back ] 43. See below, §12.3.

[ back ] 44. One can easily find early examples of this encomiastic tradition. Thus, Diogenes Laertios 9.20 reports that Xenophanes had composed poetry about the foundation of Kolophon, his native city, and a two-thousand-line epic on the settlement of Elea. Towards the end of the fifth century BC Antimakhos of Kolophon and Nikeratos Herakleotes competed at the Lysandreia with what must have been epic poems (almost certainly hymnic encomia) in honor of Lysander, himself present for the occasion (Plutarch Lysandros 18.8, Test. 2 Wyss or 2 Matthews). Of course, epic hymns to various divinities are collected into the corpus of the so-called ‘Homeric’ hymns; no less a poet than Arkhilokhos carried the prize at a competition in Paros with a hymn to Demeter (scholia to Aristophanes Birds ad 1764). It is perhaps such epic compositions that (we are to imagine) formed the rhapsodic Arkhilokhean repertoire to which Plato’s Iōn alludes (531a3). One cannot rule out the ‘rhapsodizing’ of other meters (in a derivative sense): after stating that Xenophanes ‘wrote in hexameters, elegies, and iambs’ (γέγραφε δὲ ἐν ἔπεσι καὶ ἐλεγείας καὶ ἰάμβους), Diogenes Laertios 9.18 goes on to say that ‘he himself rhapsodized his own compositions’ (αὐτὸς ἐρραψῴδει τὰ ἑαυτοῦ). It is clear that in later times ῥαψῳδέω, when focusing attention on the mode, rather than the substance, of performance, could be used for meters other than epic. Nevertheless, it is likely that a rhapsode schooled in epic who ventured into Arkhilokhos would sooner rhapsodize his epic hymn to Demeter than his iambs (but cf. Ford 1988:302). On Arkhilokhos’ place in the repertoire of rhapsodes, see further above, §10.2.1. Other Hellenistic instances of encomiastic epic are the infamous poets of Alexander’s court and those who eulogized Antigonos Gonatas, Antigonos Soter, and others. See Hardie 1983:86–87.

[ back ] 45. For the meaning of nomenclature such as ‘Ⅱ.2/3,’ used by Stephanēs for dates and adopted here, see below, §12.3.1.

[ back ] 46. It is helpful to refer here to Tracy 1975:60–67 no. 7h (=FD Ⅲ 2, 48 with the supplement by Bousquet 1938:362–368), an inscription from Delphi honoring the Athenian τεχνῖται on the occasion of the fourth Pythaïs (98/97 BC). Given the number of participants named, we might reasonably have expected it to cite under both ‘poets of epics’ and ‘rhapsodes’ anyone skilled in both categories, had there been one such in the synod. But the ἐπῶν ποητάς (line 43) are Ἀρίστων Μενελάου (Steph. 394), Διοφάνης Θεοδώρου (Steph. 782), and Λυσίας Λυσιμάχου (Steph. 1577). Whereas we do not meet again the last two in any other inscription, the first is listed as a [τραγι]κὸν ποητάν in 17, as ᾠδός (implicitly) in line 23, and among the [π]οητὰς σατύρων in 48. The rhapsodes in this case were (line 44): Κάλλων Κάλλωνος (§12.3.1 item 49), Θεόδοτος Πυθίωνος (§12.3.1 item 47), and Ξενόφαντος Εὐμάχου (§12.3.1 item 53).

[ back ] 47. See SEG 20.673–690 and Wankel 1979:134–139 no. 22. See below, §12.3.1, item 62.

[ back ] 48. Cf. Poland 1934:2514–2519. Gangloff (2010:63) offers a suggestion by S. Follet, who construes [θε]οῦ Ἀδριανοῦ with the θεολόγου that follows. After proposing the Pythia of Ephesos or Side as possible performance venues (cf. Robert 1980:16n54), Gangloff admits: “On ne peut pas non plus préciser la nature de ses prestations rhapsodiques, surtout si celles-ci n’étaient pas agonistiques” (63).

[ back ] 49. Gangloff (2010:67) notes that the ‘poet of epics’ disappeared at a relatively early time from the programs of the Boiotian Mouseia and the Ptoia, where the recitation of Homeric poetry was nonetheless prominent. With reference to the Mouseia during Roman imperial times, she notes that this competitive category seems to have been split into two. One concerned the emperor; the other, the Muses: “L’épreuve traditionnelle relevait probablement de l’épopée mythologique et son sujet portait sur les Muses” (68). She further suggests that the label ἐπῶν ποιηταί was abandoned perhaps because of this split or in order to open up the competition to other poetic genres and thus attract a larger number of contestants (2010:68).

[ back ] 50. According to Knoepfler 2004:1264n74, Ἀ̣ [μεινί]ου should be restored in line 8 of IG Ⅶ 2448, contra Dittenberger’s Θ[ . . . . . . ]ου. If so, Steph. 646 (=Koumanoudēs 1979:53 no. 459) should be identified with Steph. 645 (=Koumanoudēs 1979:53 no. 458).

[ back ] 51. A third instance, if the reconstruction [ἐπῶν ποιητὰς Δι]οφάνην Διοδώρου, Κράτερον Ἀντι[ of FD Ⅲ 2, 49.25 is accepted, is the poet Κράτερος Ἀντ̣ι̣π̣άτρου Ἀμφιπολίτης (Steph. 1488), who appears in IG Ⅶ 420.12 (=EO 434 no. 528.12) as winner of ἐγκώμιον ἐπικόν.

[ back ] 52. In IG Ⅶ 420 and 418 ἐγκώμιον καταλογάδην should be respectively contrasted with ἐγκώμιον ἐπικόν and ἐπικόν (the elided ἐγκώμιον is readily understood from the ἐγκώμιον καταλογ̣άδη̣[ν that precedes it); in 419, ἐνκωμίῳ λογικῷ with ἐνκωμίῳ ἐπικῷ (restored also in 416).

[ back ] 53. For the name of this Boiotian town and its alternative spellings see Meyer 1909:125n2 and the New Pauly s.v. “Acraephia.”

[ back ] 54. I exclude Ion of Ephesus (Steph. 1305), a Platonic creation whose historical reality is hard to judge. The force of the dialog would not be diminished if Ion were wholly fictional, and nothing in the work’s genre presupposes the historical reality of this figure.

[ back ] 55. On which see SEG 47.487.

[ back ] 56. For “X/Y” read ‘boundary between X and Y’; for “X–Y,” ‘period from X to Y.’

[ back ] 57. Nota bene that Stephanēs follows the opposite convention. I also use straight font when the inference is virtually certain, even if the professional label itself does not appear next to the name in the relevant document. An example of such ‘virtual certainty’ is the identification of Ἑρμόφαντος (see below, §12.3.1, item 17) as a κωμικὸς ὑποκριτής on the basis of IG Ⅱ/Ⅲ2 2325.231.

[ back ] 58. On Kynaithos generally see Wade-Gery 1936, Wade-Gery 1952:19–31, Burkert 1979, West 1975, and De Martino 1983 (with bibliography at 157n4).

[ back ] 59. For the Homeridai, see further above, §10.1, §10.2.3.3 n. 169, and §10.2.3.4. There is some disagreement whether the scholiast counts Kynaithos himself among the Homeridai (cf. Graziosi 2002:213 and Nagy 2010a:65–66, 68, 70–72). Even if the scholion is inconclusive, the flow of its logic arguably suggests that this is so. Cf. West 1999b:371.

[ back ] 60. Ὁμηρίδας ἔλεγον τὸ μὲν ἀρχαῖον τοὺς ἀπὸ τοῦ Ὁμήρου γένους, οἳ καὶ τὴν ποίησιν αὐτοῦ ἐκ διαδοχῆς ᾖδον· μετὰ δὲ ταῦτα καὶ οἱ ῥαψῳδοὶ οὐκέτι τὸ γένος εἰς Ὅμηρον ἀνάγοντες. ἐπιφανεῖς δὲ ἐγένοντο οἱ περὶ Κύναιθον, οὕς φασι πολλὰ τῶν ἐπῶν ποιήσαντας ἐμβαλεῖν εἰς τὴν Ὁμήρου ποίησιν. ἦν δὲ ὁ Κύναιθος τὸ γένος Χῖος, ὃς καὶ τῶν ἐπιγραφομένων Ὁμήρου ποιημάτων τὸν εἰς Ἀπόλλωνα γεγραφὼς ὕμνον ἀνατέθεικεν αὐτῷ. οὗτος οὖν ὁ Κύναιθος πρῶτος ἐν Συρακούσαις ἐραψῴδησε τὰ Ὁμήρου ἔπη κατὰ τὴν ξθ Ὀλυμπιάδα, ὡς Ἱππόστρατός φησιν (scholion 1c to Pindar Nemean 2). For convenience I print here the English translation provided by Brill’s New Jacoby: “They say that the Homeridai in ancient times were those from the family of Homer, who sang his poetry in succession. Later the name was also given to the rhapsodes, who no longer traced their descent back to Homer. Particularly prominent were Kynaithos and those associated with him, whom they say composed many epic verses and inserted them into the poetry of Homer. Kynaithos was from a Chian family, and of the poetry that bears the name of Homer, he was the one who wrote the Hymn for Apollo and credited it to Homer. In fact, this Kynaithos was the first who recited the epics of Homer in Syracuse, during the 69th Olympiad (504/1 BC), as Hippostratos says” (=FGH 568 F5).

[ back ] 61. On Theagenes, see above, §6.2; on Xenophanes, §10.2.1.

[ back ] 62. Scholion 1e is even more critical: Ὁμηρίδαι πρότερον μὲν οἱ Ὁμήρου παῖδες, ὕστερον δὲ οἱ περὶ Κύναιθον ῥαβδῳδοί· οὗτοι γὰρ τὴν Ὁμήρου ποίησιν σκεδασθεῖσαν ἐμνημόνευον καὶ ἀπήγγελλον· ἐλυμήναντο δὲ αὐτῇ πάνυ. Cf. Janko 1982:261–262n88.

[ back ] 63. Cf. Nagy 2010a:70.

[ back ] 64. Cf. West 1999b:370–371.

[ back ] 65. See West 1999b:369, with reference to Burkert 1979:59–60 and Janko 1982:112–114. For the festival, see the sources in Burkert 1979:59n31. To “cobble together” is Janko’s expression (1982:113), taken over by West (1999b:369) and others. Cf. Nagy 2010a:72.

[ back ] 66. The inscription reads: K]ΥΝΑΙΘΟ ΕΜΙ ΤΟ [ΑΓΑΛ]ΜΑ ΤΟ ΕΠΟΨΟ (with the characteristic red-alphabet use of the grapheme Ψ for Χ; cf. Woodard 1997a:140–141). For its publication, see Orlandini 1957:94–96 (with figs. 22–23), who dates it “nel pieno Ⅵ sec. a.C., forse anche nella prima metà di esso” (96). Cf. Dubois 1989:147–148 no. 129, who restores [σᾶ]μ̣α on the basis of inscriptions nos. 74 and 75 in his collection. Burkert’s prudence about the ascription (1979:55) has soon been discarded; so also his caution about the factuality of Kynaithos’ alleged composition of the Homeric hymn (1979:57–58).

[ back ] 67. Cf. Aristotle Rhetoric 1404a14 and 1409a2. For Thrasymakhos, see Nails 2002:288–290.

[ back ] 68. Davies 1971:401 no. 10741 (“Nikias (Ⅱ),” 406 no. 10808, under his father Nikias). Cf. PA 2.123 no. 10741 and PAA 13.142–143 no. 710670.

[ back ] 69. See above, §9.5.

[ back ] 70. συνεχρόνισε [sc. Θουκυδίδης] δ’, ὥς φησι Πραξιφάνης ἐν τῷ περὶ ἱστορίας, Πλάτωνι τῷ κωμικῷ, Ἀγάθωνι τραγικῷ, Νικηράτῳ ἐποποιῷ καὶ Χοιρίλῳ καὶ Μελανιππίδῃ. καὶ ἐπεὶ μὲν ἔζη Ἀρχέλαος, ἄδοξος ἦν ὡς ἐπὶ πλεῖστον, ὡς ⟨ὁ⟩ αὐτὸς Πραξιφάνης δηλοῖ, ὕστερον δὲ δαιμονίως ἐθαυμάσθη (=Praxiphanes fr. 18 Wehrli). Wilamowitz-Moellendorff (1877:353–358) plausibly argued that Markellinos had based his synchronism on a tradition by Praxiphanes about the stay of these intellectuals at the court of Arkhelaos. Hirzel 1878 took up this suggestion and proposed that Praxiphanes’ Περὶ ἱστορίας was a dialog about the value of writing history, which featured representatives of the different genres of poetry (epic, tragedy, comedy, and dithyramb). This is the point of view adopted by Wehrli (1969:112). Even if Praxiphanes’ report cannot be taken as straightforwardly factual, one may safely accept the existence of Nikeratos the ἐποποιός and his chronological placement towards the end of the fifth century BC.

[ back ] 71. Ἀντιμάχου δὲ τοῦ Κολοφωνίου καὶ Νικηράτου τινὸς Ἡρακλεώτου ποιήμασι Λυσάνδρεια διαγωνισαμένων ἐπ’ αὐτοῦ τὸν Νικήρατον ἐστεφάνωσεν, ὁ δὲ Ἀντίμαχος ἀχθεσθεὶς ἠφάνισε τὸ ποίημα (Lysandros 18.4; cf. FGH 76 F71, with Jacoby’s commentary in vol. 2c p. 128).

[ back ] 72. Cobet (1836:71) makes Nikias’ son the opponent of Pratys. Näke (1817:31) in turn equates the Herakleian with the Aristotelian Nikeratos.

[ back ] 73. Cf. Smits 1939:183–184.

[ back ] 74. On Alexander’s dealings with athletes and artists see Tritle 2009:122–129.

[ back ] 75. Λυσανίας δ’ ἐν τῷ πρώτῳ περὶ Ἰαμβοποιῶν Μνασίωνα τὸν ῥαψῳδὸν λέγει ἐν ταῖς δείξεσι τῶν Σιμωνίδου τινὰς ἰάμβων ὑποκρίνεσθαι (620c7–10).

[ back ] 76. Lennartz 2010:51 with n. 211 and Rotstein 2010:114, 265–266.

[ back ] 77. See above, §10.2.1.

[ back ] 78. Lennartz 2010: “Der Rhapsode Mnasion, der offenbar ebenfalls dem 3. Jh. angehört, habe Aufführungen von Semonidischen ἴαμβοι veranstaltet” (295).

[ back ] 79. See further above, §12.1.

[ back ] 80. Κλέαρχος δ’ ἐν τῷ προτέρῳ περὶ Γρίφων τὰ Ἀρχιλόχου, φησίν, [ὁ] Σιμωνίδης ὁ Ζακύνθιος ἐν τοῖς θεάτροις ἐπὶ δίφρου καθήμενος ἐραψῴδει (620c4–7). With Lennartz (2010:295n1074), I doubt that this δίφρος has anything to do with the one in Hymn to Demeter 198, despite the intriguing suggestion by Lavigne 2005:26n37.

[ back ] 81. Cf. Athenaios 6.234f10–11 and 15.701c3–5, with RE Ⅺ, col. 580 s.v. “Klearchos [11]” and Robert 1968:445–446.

[ back ] 82. Cf. Wehrli 1983b:547.

[ back ] 83. I suggested above (§11.2.2) that Demetrios must have been the one who moved the rhapsodic competitions from the odeion of Perikles to the theater of Dionysos. It is possible that by then iambic rhapsodic performances had already found a home in the theater. This would explain the reference to οὔτ’ ἰάμβων οὔτε κωμῳδίας θεατάς in Aristotle Politics 1336b20 (cf., for example, Nagy 1996c:163–164, Lavigne 2005:22–23, and Bartol 1992:66–67). I find Lennartz’s attempt to explain away Aristotle’s statement forced and unpersuasive (2010:295–296). On Simonides of Zakynthos, see further Lavigne 2005:25–26 and Rotstein 2010:265.

[ back ] 84. Cf. Bartol 1992:67 and Lennartz 2010:295 (“wohl spätes 4. Jh.”). Wehrli 1983a:45 places Klearkhos’ birth no later than the 340s BC; and his death, “tief ins 3. Jahrhundert” on account of his dialog Arkesilaos, which featured the participation of Arkesilaos of Pitane, head of the Academy from ca. 268 BC (frr. 11–12 Wehrli; cf. Wehrli 1983b:548). A less restrictive terminus post quem for his death of ca. 290 BC may be inferred from the reference to a Jew and Indian philosophy in fr. 6 (Wehrli) of his Περὶ ὕπνου (cf. Wehrli 1983a:45 and 1983b:548, and Robert 1968:447–448).

[ back ] 85. See also above, §12.1 n. 20.

[ back ] 86. Perhaps ὅπερ ἔτι Σωσίστρατος, which would make him a contemporary of Aristotle (Tarán prints ἐποίει). Gudeman (1934:447) thinks that Μνασίθεος ὁ Ὀπούντιος (Steph. 1715) was a rhapsode too but his reasoning is not valid. Aristotle offers two examples from spheres other than dramatic performance to show that exaggerated movement is not peculiar to tragedy. One such specialty, especially appropriate for this chapter, is rhapsody; another, the one to which διᾴδοντα refers. Stephanēs’s label ὠδός seems suitably prudent.

[ back ] 87. Cf. SEG 46.2312.

[ back ] 88. Cf. Carapanos 1878:1.84 and Cook 1902.

[ back ] 89. The inscription features omega and eta; the alpha, delta, and sigma are not characteristic of the archaic alphabet of Dodona; but the rho is (Lhôte 2006:332–333). The epsilon too seems of later date. The local archaic alphabet used the psi-grapheme (in Τερψικλῆς) for the chi. For rough chronological parallels, cf., for example, Lhôte 2006:173–175 no. 80 and 227–229 no. 107 side A. Kirchhoff’s dating remains possible if one supposes that Terpsikles himself inscribed the tripod or else insisted that the letter cutter use the Ionian alphabet.

[ back ] 90. Cf. SEG 43.208.

[ back ] 91. I have not been able to find a name that ends in στρατος whose first member is eight letters long.

[ back ] 92. For the reading τὰ Ἡσιόδου see above, §12.1 n. 25.

[ back ] 93. The name and specialty are fragmentary in no. 63 but wholly preserved in no. 64.

[ back ] 94. All the names in no. 7 appear under the same competitive headings in no. 6 except for two: Ζηνόδοτος the ῥαψῳδός and a Σώφιλος Σωτέ[λους] (now revised by Roesch in IThesp 163.1 to Σώφιλος Σωπά̣[τρου) whom Jamot 1895:349 thinks a κῆρυξ or σαλπιστής and Steph. 2377 makes out to be a [ποιητὴς προσοδίου] (IThesp 163 prints [κῆρυξ?]). At any rate, his competitive event joins rhapsody and ἐπινίκια as additions vis-à-vis no. 6. For the festival, see Jamot 1895:361–366, Feyel 1942:88–132, Schachter 1981:2.163–179, Knoepfler 1996, and Manieri 2009:313–340.

[ back ] 95. So also Knoepfler 1996:164.

[ back ] 96. For the dating of no. 6 see Feyel 1942:116–117, followed by Roesch 1982:188–189 no. 32 (his dating of no. 7 is explicitly given on page 493). Cf. also Schachter 1981:2.167–168 no. Ⅱ and Aneziri 2003:412 Gb1. IThesp dates no. 161 to 210–203; and no. 163 to 210–172, taking as the lower bound the date of IG Ⅺ.4 1061 (cf. Knoepfler 1996:155n49 and Schachter 1981:2.166n3). The modifications that Knoepfler 1996 has made to our understanding of the late third-century BC reorganization of the Mouseia do not affect the dating of IG Ⅶ 1762. The crucial piece of evidence is the year of the federal archonship of Lykinos (who appears at IThesp 161.7), with a terminus ante quem of 204 but preferentially placed by Knoepfler ca. 209 (Knoepfler 1996:158; cf. SEG 46.540). Knoepfler’s arguments have been well received. Cf., for example, SEG 46.536; Aneziri 2003:412 ad Gb1; Le Guen 2001:1.144–145 ad no. 22 (a discussion of Jamot 1895:313–322 no. 1 = SIG3 457); and Manieri 2009:318.

[ back ] 97. Fr. A was published as Jamot 1895:313–322 no. 1 (=SIG3 457); fr. B, as IG Ⅶ 1735a. See, most recently, Aneziri 2003:360–361 B4, Le Guen 2001:1.141–146 no. 22, and IThesp 156 and 156b. Csapo and Slater 1994:244–245 no. 40 provide an English translation of fr. A. IG Ⅶ 1735 contains two resolutions side by side, often incised without a break across the width of the stone. These two texts are conventionally referred to as 1735a and 1735b. Since Feyel’s analysis of them (1942:91–92 for 1735b, called by him “col. A” = IThesp 157; 92–93 for 1735a, Feyel’s “col. B”; discussion at 93–96), 1735a has been thought connected with SIG3 457 and is so presented by Aneziri 2003:360–361. This view has recently been challenged by Manieri (2009:364–366), who lists SIG3 457 at 357–363 as Thes. 10 and IG Ⅶ 1735 (entire) at 363–366 as Thes. 11. The reorganization of the Μουσεῖα is discussed by Ringwood 1927:48–49, Feyel 1942:88–112, Schachter 1981:2.163–166, Rigsby 1987a:735–737, Knoepfler 1996, and Manieri 2009:318–322.

[ back ] 98. Here I follow Feyel 1942:112–114.

[ back ] 99. E.g. Ringwood 1927:49.

[ back ] 100. See, for example, Bethe 1901, Frei 1900:20, and Nachtergael 1977:321 with n. 99.

[ back ] 101. See below, §12.3.1, item 45, for a monetary demonstration of the relative prestige enjoyed by the various specialties at Tanagra.

[ back ] 102. Cf. Knoepfler 1996:161–162. It is worth noting that none of the other inscriptions (nos. 8–18) in Jamot 1895 require the absence of rhapsody. The ones that do not list rhapsodes are 8, 9, 10, 11, 14, 16, and 17. But no. 16 was reedited with additional material in SEG 3.334, and lines 29–30 show a [ῥαψῳδό]ς | [ . . 9 . . ]ίου Ὑπαταῖος (=IThesp 177, which prints [ῥαψῳδ]ός | [ – – – – ]ν̣ου Ὑπαταῖος, accepted by Manieri 2009:414–416 Thes. 43). No. 8 is too fragmentary: Jamot’s line 12, θυμ[ελικὸς ἀγών], might have excluded mention of a rhapsode, but it has been corrected to ἐνε[ί]κων οἵδ[ε] by Roesch 1982:189 no. 33 (=IThesp 165 = Manieri 2009:383–385 Thes. 23). If, with Schachter (1981:2.169 no. Ⅳ), we restore ποιητ̣[ὴς προσοδίου] in line 13 and [σαλπιστής] in 15 (instead of ποιητ̣[ὴς ἐπῶν] and [αὐλητής])—a reasonable choice in light, for example, of IThesp 167 and 169 (other parallels in Schachter 1981:2.169n8)—there is no reason to think that it excluded a rhapsode. None of the fragmentary 9, 10, 11, and 14 (IThesp 166, 167, 168, and 173) preclude a possible rhapsodic event from the corresponding festival. Only no. 17, from AD 161–169 or AD 176–180 according to Roesch 1982:182 no. 5 (cf. Schachter 1981:2.179 no. XⅧ), might suggest the absence of rhapsody: enough of the catalog is left for us to expect ῥαψῳδός to appear—perhaps in line 8 after the κῆρυξ or in line 17 before the κιθαριστής. But the inscription breaks after the name of the poet of new comedy and, if the list continued at that point, one cannot completely rule out the possibility that a winning rhapsode may have appeared in the text that perished. Another possible absence of traditional rhapsodic performance, though perhaps more questionable because of the fragmentary state of the text, is IThesp 174, dated to AD 14–29 (=Manieri 2009:407–408 Thes. 36). Here the ἐπῶν ποιτής (sic) is preceded by a [κ]ῆ̣ρυξ and followed by an [ἐνκωμιογρ]άφος. An examination of the tables in Manieri 2009:333–338 clearly demonstrates the regular involvement of rhapsodes in the Mouseia. (Only note that, with Schachter 1981:2.169 no. Ⅳ, the “poeta epico” at 334 under “170–150 a.C.” is rather to be restored as “poeta di prosodio.”) One can make the same point about Boiotian festivals generally with the help of the table in Manieri 2009:50. To return to Thespiai, little can be said with any certainty about the participation of rhapsodes in the Erotideia, a festival with only a first-century BC foundation (cf. Manieri 2009:342–343, post-Sullan for Knoepfler 1997:34–36). It seems fair to conclude that musical events were held at this festival too, even if the case is not as conclusive as Manieri claims, following Moretti 1981 and Schachter 1981:2.173–175, whatever one thinks of Roesch’s proposal in Teiresias E.79.01 (see Manieri 2009:344–346 and 428–429). When he wrote his entry on the Erotideia, Schachter still shared the consensus at the time that this festival was solely athletic (cf. Schachter 1981:1.218–219). But it must surely be the cause of some consternation that only one epigraphic witness, IThesp 175 (=Manieri 2009:427–430 Thes. 53), appears to confirm the consensual reading of Pausanias 9.31.3 and Plutarch Amatorius 748e–749c §§1–2 (cf. Jamot 1895:367–369). IThesp 191 (=Manieri 2009:432–433 Thes. 57), with the lone appearance of a ποιητὴς χορῶν (line 9, in the nominative) between athletic events, pace Schachter and Manieri cannot adequately support their views, as Jamot (1895:368) long ago demonstrated. At any rate, even if we accept that a musical competition took place at the Erotideia and that IThesp 175 regards this ἀγών, we know too little about it to judge whether the absence of a rhapsode from this one inscription is significant. Its competitive events are subsumed under the label τὸν θυμελικόν (line 7).

[ back ] 103. τὰ μεγάλα Ἐρεθίμι[α] on side A, line 3. Cf. Kontorini 1983:69n270. For Rhodian festivals, see Ringwood Arnold 1936.

[ back ] 104. Cf. also Roesch 1982:192 no. 38. His corrections supersede Jamot’s Αμ[ . . . . ]λος [ . . . . ]ους Θηβαῖος and A. Keramopoullos’s ⟨Λ⟩ό[κ]ρ[ω]ν [Φ]ιλοσ[όφ]ου [Ἀ]θηναῖος from ΑΟ . Ρ . Ν . ΙΛΟΣ . . ΟΥ . ΟΗΝΑΙΟΣ (in the supplement of Ἀρχ. Ἐφ. 1936, p. 41 no. 217).

[ back ] 105. Restated at 1265 as “vers 125–20.” At 1277 he admits that it may be “très peu après 118.” This allows him to explain the apparent monopoly of the catalog by Theban artists with reference to the defection of Boiotian artists from the Isthmian koinon in 118/17 BC (cf. Aneziri 2003:307–316).

[ back ] 106. Restated at 1276 as “ca. 110–100.” Cf. SEG 54.517: “ca. 118–110 BC.”

[ back ] 107. For this date, which replaces Stephanēs’s I.1–2, see immediately below, n. 109.

[ back ] 108. The same as Steph. 646 (cf. §12.3.1 n. 50 above).

[ back ] 109. Cf. Schachter 1981:2.171n7, 2.173n2 and SEG 36.474. The date in the LGPN is ca. 80–70 BC. Its upper boundary agrees with Gossage’s ca. 80 (Gossage 1975:127, after Dittenberger in IG Ⅶ page 142 ad no. 416: “Neque vero multis annis post Sullana tempora hos catalogos incisos esse nonnulla nomina docent”; and Bizard 1920:252–253: “postérieurs à la prise d’Athènes par Sylla”). Gossage grounds his dating on the prosopography of IG Ⅶ 416–420, 1760 (=IThesp 172), 3195–3197, and Jamot 1895:337–339 no. 12 (=IThesp 171). IG Ⅶ 416–420 he considers an almost continuous series spanning twenty years, ca. 80–60 BC (Gossage 1975:120); IThesp 170–172, a continuous series spanning eight, ca. 80–70 BC (1975:127). He prints a comprehensive table on page 116. To some of these inscriptions Roesch too assigns a date during the first quarter of the first century BC (e.g. “110–90” for IThesp 171; or “après 84” for IThesp 172). It seems safest, therefore, to modify Stephanēs’s “I.1–2” to “Ⅱ.4–I.1.”

[ back ] 110. For Tanagran festivals cf. Ringwood 1927:34–35.

[ back ] 111. Cf. Calvet and Roesch 1966: “l’inscription fragmentaire IG, Ⅶ, 541–543, très légèrement postérieure” (315).

[ back ] 112. For the festival see Holleaux 1890:59–64, 201–203; Feyel 1942:133–147; Roesch 1982:203–255; Schachter 1981:1.70–72; Rigsby 1987a; and Manieri 2009:63–77.

[ back ] 113. For the festival, see Feyel 1942:67–87, Schachter 1981:3.109–118, Turner 1996, and Manieri 2009:137–143.

[ back ] 114. Gossage 1975: “c. 50 B.C.” (116). Schachter 1981: “perhaps the second half of the first century B.C.” (1.66n9, with reference to Schachter 1978:96n39). Manieri 2009: “una datazione all’inizio dell’era cristiana” (118).

[ back ] 115. With SEG 25.501, which dates it to ca. 85 BC (but cf. SEG 31.496, with a more cautious ca. 100–90/85 BC). For more on the dating see Schachter 1981:1.203. For the text, see further Chrēstou 1956:36–38 and Calvet and Roesch 1966:298–300.

[ back ] 116. This event is listed in line 17 as τὴν κωμῳδίαν (sc. τὴν παλαιάν). Cf. Steph. 1279 and Calvet and Roesch 1966:320.

[ back ] 117. Cf. Schachter 1981:1.66n9. For Manieri, “dopo 85 a.C.” (2009:108).

[ back ] 118. Cf. SEG 34.362 for the first seventeen lines. I infer from Teiresias 1976 Appendix Epigraphica p. 14 no. 32 (usually cited E.76.32) that Roesch read [Μ]ε[ν]ελ⟨ά⟩ου (printed by SEG and taken over by Stephanēs) from a photograph in the guide to the Amphiareion. He must have thought that the alpha marked as ⟨ά⟩ was incised as a lambda. But the letter is clearly visible as an alpha in the photograph on p. 79 of the catalog that follows (with its own pagination) the inscriptions in Petrakos 1997.

[ back ] 119. Dated in SEG 19.335 to ca. 85 BC and in SEG 31.496, more cautiously, to ca. 100–90/85 BC. Gossage (1975:131) dates it to the period shortly before the Mithridatic War (“c. 90 BC” in the table on page 116; he details his reasons in 127–131). Cf. Schachter 1981:1.203.

[ back ] 120. For his family tree see Calvet and Roesch 1966:331.

[ back ] 121. I follow the text in Calvet and Roesch 1966:298–300. Their French translation follows in 303–305. For an English translation see Roller 1989:1.110–115 no. 92.

[ back ] 122. For the monetary equivalences and a table of awarded amounts see Calvet and Roesch 1966:305–309. Cf. SEG 41.481.

[ back ] 123. Cf. Steph. 2267 and Calvet and Roesch 1966:320.

[ back ] 124. Of the five surviving Oropian inscriptions that feature a rhapsode and an epic poet—EO nos. 521, 523–524, 526, and 528—three place the rhapsode immediately before the epic poet (nos. 523–524 and 528) and two reverse the order (nos. 521 and 526). But, of the last two, only no. 526—the inscription that concerns us now—actually records an award for the epic poet; no. 521 declared the event without a winner. In all of these inscriptions, the prose and epic encomia precede (in that order) the rhapsode and the epic poet (the entry for prose encomium is conjecturally supplied for no. 523). The least that one may claim about the relative order of epic poet and rhapsode is that, if the latter had regularly performed the poetry of the former, we would expect them to be listed always in that particular order, which corresponds in fact to what we observe in the case of drama.

[ back ] 125. See his tabulation at 122. See further above, §12.3.1 n. 109.

[ back ] 126. The text can also be found in Aneziri 2003:354–356 A 11. It corresponds to FD Ⅲ 2, 48 with the supplement by Bousquet 1938:362–368 (the relevant line numbers in the original edition are 26, 31, and 37). The unimproved text is also printed in SIG3 711l.

[ back ] 127. Some ascribe the inscription to the third Pythaïs (106/105 BC). So, for example, Pomtow in SIG3 ad loc.: “[P]ertinet nullo dubio ad Pyth. Ⅲ, sc. a. 106/5.” Cf. Tracy 1975:64, Nachtergael 1977:474 no. 56, and Aneziri 2003:356.

[ back ] 128. Cf. Jamot 1895:339 no. 13, line 18. Roesch 1982:192–193 no. 39 and IThesp 172 date it to post 84 BC. Gossage 1975:127 to “shortly before 70 BC.”

[ back ] 129. These last two are equivalent to τραγῳδός and κωμῳδός respectively (see above, §12.1).

[ back ] 130. So also Gossage 1975:121–122.

[ back ] 131. On this and IG Ⅶ 3195 see Gossage 1975:121. For their dates, see also above, §12.3.1 n. 109 and Schachter 1981:1.142 (“ca. 90–70 B.C.”).

[ back ] 132. Dittenberger dates IG Ⅶ 3195–3197 to the beginning of the first century BC (see IG Ⅶ p. 594 ad 3195). Amandry and Spyropoulos (1974:186) judge it (and 3196–3197) to be from the first third of the first century BC (see 1974:224–227). Gossage (1975:121) considers 3195 the oldest of the group IG Ⅶ 3195–3197, and believes that with IG Ⅶ 1760 it bridged the gap between IG Ⅶ 416–417 and 418–420 (1975:122). This would place 3195 shortly before 70 BC (1975:127).

[ back ] 133. For Gossage 1975:121, only of slightly later date.

[ back ] 134. For the date, see immediately above, n. 132. For the festival, see Ringwood 1927:39–40, Schachter 1981:1.140–144, and Manieri 2009:180–183. Both this catalog and IG Ⅶ 3197 (see below) include a section with the victors at the Homolōia, on which see Manieri 2009 ad loc. with bibliography.

[ back ] 135. Kuruniotes (1899:141) speculated that the festival was the Tamyneia. Knoepfler (1988b:388n26) thinks that it belongs to the Artemisia instead (cf. SEG 38.871). See Gossage 1975:123–126 for a date ca. 70–65 BC, of which Knoepfler (1988b:388n26) approves.

[ back ] 136. Explicit and implicit approval are expressed by Gossage 1975:123 (“the name of the rhapsode Mentor … plausibly restored by Wilhelm”) and Knoepfler 1988b:388n26 (“[l]e concours s’ouvrait alors par des épreuves de poésie épique et de rhapsodie”).

[ back ] 137. Although I am skeptical that Φ and Ρ might be so readily confused I see no plausible alternative to Wilhelm’s restoration.

[ back ] 138. For the date, see above, §12.3.1 n. 132.

[ back ] 139. The poet of epics is the Ἀμινίας Δημοκλέους Θηβαῖος (Steph. 153) who reappears in line 25 as the victorious ποητὴς σατύρων, and in IG Ⅶ 419.14, 16 (EO 431 no. 526.14, 16) as the winner at the Amphiaraia of the categories ἐνκωμίῳ ἐπικῷ and ἐπῶν ποιητάς. For one other doubtful occurrence see Roesch 1982:493.

[ back ] 140. Cf. Gossage 1975:126–127 and Schachter 1981:3.94–95.

[ back ] 141. Teodorsson (1989–1996:3.346) also calls him a “professional musician,” apparently on the grounds that “[i]n Plutarch’s time, singing to the lyre had become a professional competence” (he refers us to 615b). It is well known that amateur lyre-playing at the symposium was already in decline during the classical period, and one may safely assume that it was even rarer centuries later. But it is doubtful that this skill by itself would suffice to identify its possessor as a professional musician (i.e. as one who did so for a living). Gangloff’s conjectural ascription of the label λυρῳδός to Erato (Gangloff 2010:53) does not add anything to our knowledge of his profession.

[ back ] 142. Cf. Schachter 1981:2.176–177 no. XⅥ.

[ back ] 143. Cf. SEG 36.488.

[ back ] 144. Cf. Kyriazēs 1924, Seyrig 1927:147 no. 6, Sykutris 1928, Chatzēiōannou 1971–2001:4.1.220 and 4.2.157, Tsopanakēs 1984:398 no. 31, and Gangloff 2010:53–54.

[ back ] 145. Cf. Garelli-François 2000:505 on the trappings (σκευή) of the homēristai.

[ back ] 146. Followed by Roesch 1982:227 no. 7 and Manieri 2009 ad loc.

[ back ] 147. Fraenkel writes: “Vs. 5 vix dubium ῥαψῳδέ” (IG Ⅳ p. 112 ad loc.). For a text that diverges from Le Bas’s, see Ross 1855–1861:2.665.d.

[ back ] 148. Cf. Robert 1980:10–20, Bowie 1989:202–203 and 1990:65–66, Fein 1994:118–126, and Gangloff 2010:61–63.

[ back ] 149. Roesch 1982:225.

[ back ] 150. Manieri ad loc. prints [ῥα]ψ̣ῳδῶν Αὐρ. Εὔκαι̣ρ̣[ος Ταναγραῖος].

[ back ] 151. The similarity of the two programs becomes clear when one realizes that αὐλητὴς πυθικός and πυθαύλης on the one hand, and αὐλητὴς κύκλιος and χοραύλης on the other, are alternative labels for the same specialty (cf. Roesch 1982:227n112 and Strasser 2002:97–98 with SEG 52.1943). The same rationale suggests that the supplement in Bizard 1903:297 line 14 should be κιθα[ρῳδῶν rather than κιθα[ριστῶν (cf. Steph. 2937).