Sculpted of marble from Mount Pentelicus, this loutrophoros was unearthed at the ancient port of Piraeus. The term literally translates as “bath-water carrier.” Most of these long-necked, two-handled pottery vessels have been found in pieces at the demosion sema, or public cemetery of Athens. Funerals and wedding baths seem to have been their primary ceremonial uses.
As they were painted by an exclusive handful of artisan families, however, these were also status symbols. For example, many loutrophori feature hunters and cavalry riders, preoccupations of the gentry. Frequently, citizens of this equestrian class would ostentatiously dismount to fight with the infantry as a hoplite, but their noble blood still demanded an elevated image in death.
Our example features two hoplites meeting on foot at some sort of muster. Both men are equipped with sword and breastplate. However, Polystratos, the man remembered in the center, is not wearing his helmet or carrying his shield. Instead, his slave stands behind him bearing both burdens. Smaller than either citizen, he is barely any larger than the shield he carries. That hardly seems accidental. In fact, it strikes me as essential to the piece.
The word for any ancient shield in ancient Greek was aspis. When a hoplite — that is, a full citizen of the city-state — carried an aspis as part of the panoply, it became a hoplon. Most hoplons weighed 15 pounds or more (about 7 kg), but we can assume a very large, strong man with means would carry a large, solid shield, perhaps 20 lbs (roughly 9 kg) or more. For a very small person, that might be a lot to hold up after a while. His expression reminds me of Tyrtaeus, the Spartan poet, calling on warriors to grit their teeth for battle.
Contrary to the images projected by comic book art and the films derived from it, there was no uniformity whatsoever to the hoplite panoply. Shields and breastplates and helmets were as varied as the men who wore them. I am no expert on ancient Greek helmets, but this one is evdently tall, and therefore meant to be seen above the fray. It also appears to be cinched overtight to fit around the smaller man’s head.
While the motif of hoplite and shield-bearing slave is not uncommon in loutrophori, the artist was clearly striving for comic effect here. A slapstick joke was encoded in the hierarchy of arms and men, and communicated to the future.
Known as the Loutrophoros of Polystratos, this object is on display at the National Art Museum of Athens. It is positioned on the left in the photo below. Like the poetic comedies of Aristophanes performed in the Theatre of Dionysus, where the young men of Athens also graduated basic training, it was meant to make an audience laugh, and that laughter was not at all cheap. Polystratos was town, but still upper class. He could afford to have laughter at his own funeral.