Unpublished Photos Reveal Secrets of Marcus Aurelius Statue in Rome’s Campidoglio
Rome, February 1 – Newly released, previously unpublished photographs offer a fascinating glimpse into the meticulous process behind the creation and installation of the reproduction of the Marcus Aurelius equestrian monument in Rome’s Campidoglio. The project, carried out between 1996 and 1997, was entrusted by the Municipality of Rome to the School of the Art of Medal of the State Mint and Polygraphic Institute.
The images document the statue’s journey to the Capitoline Hill, the construction site, and the race against time to complete the work for the 2748th Natale di Roma (Birthday of Rome). These never-before-seen photos reveal the intricate steps involved in bringing the monumental replica to life.
The Creation of a Masterpiece: From Photogrammetry to Bronze
The reproduction of the statue was achieved through an indirect process, as the condition of the original did not permit traditional methods such as direct casting or reproduction by compass or pantograph. Instead, a photogrammetric survey from the Central Institute of Restoration was used to create a digital geometric reconstruction of the monument. This digital model then served as the basis for the students of the School of the Art of Medal, who gave it plastic form and the characteristics of ancient bronze.
Sculptors, selected from the best graduates of previous years for their teamwork capabilities, meticulously refined the ‘skin’ of the statue with manual interventions to enhance its surface. They were also responsible for creating a 1:10 scale replica of the Marcus Aurelius column, which, galvanically reproduced, now stands in the center of Acea’s headquarters in Rome.
The State Mint then fused the thirty-one parts of the ‘new’ monument. On April 19, 1997, the completed statue was positioned on Michelangelo’s base, restoring the uniqueness of the Campidoglio square. The School currently preserves the images of the monument’s creation, transportation, and installation, along with some of the thirty-one component parts of the work.
A Race Against Time: The Director’s Challenge
The project was carried out under the direction of Laura Cretara, a sculptor, painter, and medallist, and the first woman to design a coin in Italy’s history. Cretara is also the creator of the first bimetallic 500-lire coin in 1982, a technological revolution patented by engineer Nicola Ielpo, then director of the State Mint. Under her leadership, the scholarship students of the School of the Art of Medal dedicated almost a year to the reproduction.
“The deadlines were very tight,” Cretara recalls. “They called me and another founder from Naples, who said no. I accepted the challenge; it was an exceptional experience, although I immediately understood the scale of the challenge: the statue had to be reassembled by April 21, the Birthday of Rome. There was anxiety, but also the will to succeed. We raced against time, and in the end, we made it.” Today, every time Cretara returns to the Campidoglio, she pauses to admire it: “It’s a bit like a little child, standing there, and you always feel it’s yours.”
Curiosities and Anomalies: The Horse’s Teeth and the Emperor’s Eyes
Cretara documented the entire operation in her writings, sharing intriguing curiosities noted by the artistic director, Guido Veroi, a professor at the School of the Art of Medal, in his daily work diary.
“We were surprised,” she writes, “to see a large central tooth in the lower row of the horse’s teeth, instead of two as seen in the upper row, one on each side of the midline of the mouth. After counting and recounting, to avoid errors in tracing them for the copy, and delving into the subject, we learned from dentist and veterinarian friends that this large central tooth is not an oversight or an arrangement by the sculptor, but a real anomaly known as ‘Dens in Dente’ or ‘Gemination.’ This anomaly suggests that the depicted horse was not just any horse from the imperial army, but precisely the Emperor’s horse, with all its characteristics and diversifications reproduced down to the curious details…”
“Another anomaly we like to remember, though always visible to the naked eye,” the text continues, “is the cut of the horse’s nostrils; a custom that was first brought to my attention by Pisanello’s drawings of Byzantine horses. A custom also practiced in earlier eras, so much so that the nostrils of Marcus Aurelius’s horse highlight it. I am referring to the vertical cuts made above the nostril opening, tending to enlarge it. These served to increase the section of the nostrils, allowing more air to enter during respiration and consequently achieving greater physical performance from the thus enhanced horse. A possibility that in a military horse could have been fundamental. A more powerful horse, therefore, a warhorse, a horse suitable for the Emperor… Among the various things that attracted the attention of the sculptors is the rich caparison, which at first seemed to consist of three superimposed layers of leather, each cut at the edges with different geometric patterns that create its effect. However, observing closely with grazing light, they noticed that the three layers of leather are a single layer, cut into three flaps on the two lateral sides, but not on the other two perpendicular to the previous ones…”
The Emperor’s Hands and a Slight Squint
“Another peculiarity to note,” the document states, “is the diversity of the Emperor’s two hands; one with a normally shaped thumb, the other with a visibly flattened thumb. And one, the right, with significantly different nail lengths, the other, the left, with the index finger much thinner than the other fingers. It might even seem remodelled at a later date, but no welding lines are visible between the finger and the hand. Answers can be given, but all are speculative. A slightly more credible one might be to imagine two different sculptors, each modelling one of the two – as our sculptors did – and having to model them with such urgency that they didn’t even have time to compare them.”
Furthermore, another curiosity, this time concerning Marcus Aurelius’s face, is “the slight squint, which is not noticeable in any of the marble portraits that have come down to us. That the slightly more divergent pupils gave too absorbed an appearance, while Commodus’s desire was that his father, greeting the Romans from his monument, truly looked them in the eyes, is a hypothesis, I believe, possible…” These are only hypotheses, says the director, who concludes with a certainty: “The two small bows noticeable on the two sides of the tunic, placed to add grace, and the slight vertical cut made on the edge. It was certainly a fashionable cut, of a sober elegance, which Marcus Aurelius the philosopher may have accepted despite his exemplary simplicity of life. The tangled chromatic network formed by the drips of patina makes this refined detail disappear from general view.”
Source: State Mint and Polygraphic Institute, Municipality of Rome
