A writer’s guide to art and civil construction: worldbuilding insights – #1 Early Christian art (Part I)
In this guide, which delves into the history of art and civil construction, my aim is to explore the cultural and anthropological factors that influenced the emergence of particular art forms within their respective historical contexts. The goal is to inspire and offer practical insights for those engaged in worldbuilding, especially in crafting art and urban environments that resonate with their chosen settings. Throughout the guide, I will analyze various historical periods from a cultural and historical perspective, providing inspiration rather than prescriptive worldbuilding advice. It's worth noting that the focus will primarily be on the Mediterranean and Europe (I'm Italian ✨ so my academic studies focus on Italy and its surroundings), spanning from the end of the ancient age to the contemporary age.
The emergence of stylistic elements in early Christian art is fascinating because it inspires envisioning the characteristics of religious buildings in a situation where two coexisting religions, one significantly older, shape the cultural landscape.
Diachronic excursus
Let's briefly summarize the historical context surrounding early Christian art to better understand the culture and motivations behind the stylistic choices in urban and rural settings, as well as the care or neglect of these environments.
Two key points to focus on for understanding this historical reality through our chosen lens are:
Spread of Christianity
Germanic invasions (which we'll discuss in the next post)
The spread — not birth — of Christianity occurred gradually, beginning around the time of the Edict of Milan in 313 AD, issued by Constantine, which declared Christianity a religio licita, meaning that it granted freedom of worship. It was further established as the “state religion” with the Edict of Thessalonica by Theodosius I in 380, mandating worship.
While Constantine had political motives for issuing this edict (yes, the legend about Constantine’s vision is just that), our focus lies on the socio-cultural context in which an emperor favored a religion amidst a predominantly pagan Roman aristocracy.
Origins of early Christian art
In its early stages, before Christianity became the state religion, Constantine, who oversaw the construction of the first Christian places of worship, took into account the pagan sensitivities of the aristocracy. As a result, these early buildings exhibited the following characteristics:
Located outside the city center, where pagan temples were typically found (often situated beyond the city walls, as was the case in Rome);
Featuring a simple exterior, often constructed with common brick (laterizio) and lacking elaborate decorations;
Boasting monumental dimensions to accommodate the public liturgy of Christianity, inspired by the Last Supper, as well as reflecting Roman appreciation for grandeur.
The decision to depart from classical norms stylistically served both to avoid offending the aristocracy and to visually distinguish Christian structures symbolically from classical temples.
Types of buildings
Basilica
The basilica, which predates Christianity, emerged in Italy following the Second Punic War in the first half of the 3rd century BC. Originally serving administrative functions, it featured a rectangular layout with three naves (side corridors) and two apses (semicircular protrusions) on either side, with the entrance situated along the longer side.
The architectural design of basilicas was chosen for its spacious layout, although modifications were made to suit the needs of Christian worship. Unlike their original purpose, which varied, Christian basilicas typically adopted a longitudinal plan with three or five naves. They featured an entrance on one of the shorter sides, leading to a single apse opposite the entrance.
This adaptation involved repurposing buildings originally intended for other functions, driven primarily by practical considerations. An important detail regarding the structural elements is seen in the narthex and the quadriportico.
Narthex: a sort of rectangular entrance area.
Quadriportico: a large external four-sided portico attached to the entrance wall.
Both spaces were used to accommodate catechumens (the unbaptized) and penitents¹. Initially, the quadriportico fulfilled this role, but it was gradually replaced by the narthex between the 6th and 8th centuries.
This transition was prompted by changes in baptismal practices. As the custom of adult baptism declined, it became apparent that many individuals were already baptized, rendering the extensive space for catechumens unnecessary. Consequently, the need for a large quadriportico diminished.
The narthex, too, began to decline in importance from the 7th century onward, reflecting a decrease in the number of unbaptized individuals attending services.
Another fascinating aspect illustrating the synthesis of paganism, Roman art, and Christianity is evident in the architectural feature known as the triumphal arch. Typically semicircular, the arch serves as a division between the central nave and either the presbyterial area.
The architectural concept of the basilica’s arch finds its origins in the Roman triumphal arch, a grand structure with one or more openings (fornix) traditionally erected to commemorate military victories. In Christianity, this symbol was reimagined to signify Jesus' triumph over evil and death. Moreover, the arch served a dual purpose as both a symbolic gateway between the space reserved for worshipers and that designated for the clergy (the presbyterial zone).
Now, I won't dive into discussing every single architectural detail of basilicas or the liturgical furnishings (although, if anyone desires, they can ask, and I'll gladly provide a glossary). Instead, let's briefly look at the different floor plans a basilica can have:
Latin cross: this design is longitudinal, with a shorter horizontal section intersected by a transept, either about ¾ along its length (immissa) or closer to the apse (commissa or tau).
Greek cross: here the transept intersects at the center, with arms of equal length to the nave. This layout was more prevalent in the Eastern tradition.
Circiform: this is a distinctive basilica design used for cemeteries, as well as for hosting specific masses like funeral banquets and an annual mass in honor of the titular saint's martyrdom. It lacks a transept and features a ring corridor intended for burials.
Baptistery
The baptistery was a centrally planned building², often octagonal, specifically designed for conducting baptisms, with the baptismal font positioned at its center.
Was traditionally distinct from the main body of the church, it was commonly situated adjacent to or in front of the main facade, especially until the Gothic period, notably in Italy.
The octagonal design held symbolic significance; eight represented an eschatological number, closely linked with the Resurrection of Christ, who rose eight days after his entry into Jerusalem. Thus, the octagon came to symbolize the concept of eternal life conferred upon the faithful through baptism.
This architectural feature reflects influence from Roman traditions, drawing inspiration from thermal buildings, particularly the frigidarium, which the Romans referred to as a baptisterium (derived from the Greek, meaning “place where one receives enlightenment”). Hence, the origin of the term can be traced back to this context.
Martyrium
Another centrally planned building (circular or polygonal) prevalent in the 4th century, the martyrium (from the Greek “witness”) was erected on the site of a martyrdom or over the tomb of a martyr.
Over time, they also began to serve as repositories for the remains of martyrs, often located at the center of the building. The martyrium's origins lie in the cult of martyrs, which itself evolved from the more common pagan reverence for the dead. Its architectural design was influenced by classical mausoleums, grand tombs traditionally used to house the remains of significant individuals.
Images, iconography, and iconology
The influence of architecture extends to imagery as well; Christianity originally spread through pagan iconography and symbolism. Art served as a means of proselytism. Why? Because classical art had long been used to convey the divine, and Christianity also drew inspiration from Roman culture in this aspect.
Even the artistic techniques bore similarities to those of the pagans:
Sculpture, as evidenced by sarcophagi.
Mosaics, widely employed for adorning basilicas (which in Roman art were mainly used for floors but eventually shifted to the apse — see subsection on the hierarchy of light).
It can be argued that from this classical influence emerged the conceptual link between wealth, splendor, and divine grandeur; gold symbolized divine light (indeed, numerous mosaics featured golden backgrounds) — a motif that would resonate throughout the Middle Ages — reminiscent of the portrayal of the deified emperor in the declining centuries of the Roman Empire. Pagan iconographies were thus reinterpreted, with scenes of apotheosis transformed into representations of the Ascension, pastoral imagery adapted to depict the Good Shepherd, and even the apostles portrayed akin to philosophers.
A clearer Christianization and a distancing from pagan iconography will be seen as we move forward in time, in the upcoming posts. If you're interested in a post focused on the various iconographies and their resemantization, lemme know!
Acheropite images
An intriguing outcome of the fusion between ancient cultural practices and evolving concepts of imagery is the phenomenon of “acheropite images”.
It's essential to understand that early Christians adhered closely to Jewish traditions, which forbade the creation of divine images to prevent the risk of idolatry. Moreover, due to the threat of persecution, early Christians concealed references to their faith in the catacombs through subtle allusions understood only by fellow believers, akin to a form of coded language.
The incorporation of images into Christianity, particularly in the Western world, occurred gradually, as apprehension about inadvertently creating idols spawned legends surrounding acheropite images - icons purportedly “not made by human hands”, but possessing a “miraculous” origin. These images were believed to be not products of human craftsmanship, but rather “revealed” through divine intervention, thereby attaining status as revered relics (e.g., the Shroud of Turin, the Madonna of Guadalupe, etc).
The hierarchy of light
Why do mosaics transition from the floors to the apse and, more broadly, to the walls?
We first notice this transition at the onset of the 5th century, exemplified by the apse mosaic of the Basilica of Santa Pudenziana in Rome. The driving force behind this change is light, or more precisely, the hierarchy of light. This hierarchy derives from the earlier discussed concept: the translation of divine light into the symbolism of gold and actual illumination within a basilica.
Light holds great significance in this context. It is strategically channeled through windows, particularly illuminating the apse (the sanctuary area closest to God, traditionally restricted to the clergy) and the central nave, with the side naves receiving less light. Mosaics, meticulously crafted with tesserae to reflect and enhance light, are placed in the apse to intensify this effect, emphasizing the hierarchical importance of light in this central space.
¹Penitents: in the ancient and medieval Christianity, penitents were faithful individuals who, after committing serious sins post-baptism, sought forgiveness from God. They publicly assumed a specific status within the community.
²Central plan: buildings where all parts are organized around a center are termed as having a central plan. This plan can take the form of a square, a circle, an octagon, or other regular polygons, such as a Greek cross. The centrality of space is usually emphasized by a dome.
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