{"id":64717,"date":"2025-10-08T09:00:00","date_gmt":"2025-10-08T08:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/?p=64717"},"modified":"2025-10-07T12:35:28","modified_gmt":"2025-10-07T11:35:28","slug":"the-statues-from-the-antikythera-shipwreck-125-years-later","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/2025\/10\/08\/the-statues-from-the-antikythera-shipwreck-125-years-later\/","title":{"rendered":"The Statues from the Antikythera Shipwreck, 125 Years Later"},"content":{"rendered":"<div id=\"bsf_rt_marker\"><\/div>\n<p>In the mid-1st century BCE, a freighter laden with Greek art was sailing westward in the Mediterranean when it crashed and rapidly foundered, taking some of its crew and passengers down with it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In 1900, Greek sponge-divers discovered this astonishing ancient shipwreck in waters some 50-m deep off the northeast coast of Antikythera, a small island located between the Peloponnese and Crete. The Greek Archaeological Service received notification of the find and quickly launched a recovery effort, assisted by the Hellenic Navy and undertaken by some of those same sponge-divers. Their work, one of the first-ever underwater excavations, brought to light bronze and marble statues, amphorae, luxury goods\u2014and most famously, the Antikythera Mechanism, a technological wonder used to display calendars and astronomical information.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Now, 125 years since this remarkable discovery, a study in the <em>Annual of the British School at Athens<\/em> by Brian Martens (University of St Andrews) offers a new interpretation of the origin and destination of this massive haul of ancient art.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>Statues from a Greek Gymnasion?<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The Antikythera shipwreck has produced one of the largest known groups of statuary surviving from Greek antiquity: at least 36 marbles and 16 bronzes, most of which are life size or slightly larger. Why so many statues were being transported has remained a mystery. Previous research hypothesised that they were they spoils of war or a commercial shipment of luxurious furnishings for the villas of the Roman elite.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Having conducted in-person examination of the sculptures in the Hellenic National Archaeological Museum (Athens, Greece), Martens adds new details of their production and display, demonstrating that at least some of the statues had been set up before being loaded on the ill-fated ship\u2014but where? The results suggest a striking new possibility: that many, maybe even all, of the statues had been removed from a Greek athletic and educational complex, called a <em>gymnasion<\/em>, in the region of the Cyclades. The subjects of the statues\u2014male athletes, the philosophers who teach them, the gods who protect them, and the heroes they emulate\u2014support this interpretation.<\/p>\n\n\n<div class=\"wp-block-image\">\n<figure class=\"aligncenter size-large is-resized\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"783\" height=\"1240\" src=\"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-783x1240.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-64719\" style=\"width:326px;height:auto\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-783x1240.jpg 783w, https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-265x420.jpg 265w, https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-768x1216.jpg 768w, https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-970x1536.jpg 970w, https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-1294x2048.jpg 1294w, https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/10\/Odysseus-scaled.jpg 1617w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 783px) 100vw, 783px\" \/><\/figure><\/div>\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-center\"><sup>Marble statue of Odysseus. Photo: J. Vanderpool. Hellenic National Archaeological Museum, Athens, \u00a9 Hellenic Ministry of Culture\/Hellenic Organization of Cultural Resources Development (H.O.C.RE.D.)<\/sup><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>A City in Crisis<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In the ancient world, as today, statues were not merely decorative fixtures. They shaped social interactions, influenced public memory, and articulated communal values. Erecting a statue required a significant financial investment, and statues were set up in large numbers, particularly in public spaces like gymnasia, where they honoured the gods or recognised individuals for civic benefactions. Over time, an accumulation of statues created a visual landscape that was highly meaningful for local history and identity. It would have taken extraordinary force or dire circumstances for a community to surrender these treasured monuments.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Martens draws on the rich historical record of the 1st century BCE to argue that a Roman official likely extorted the statues from a city for payment of its debts. In the mid-1st century BCE, following the Mithridatic Wars, many cities in Greece faced severe financial stress, some having been forced by Rome to pay war reparations. At the same time, Romans highly prized Greek art and redeployed Greek statues in new public building projects in Italy. While not loot in a conventional sense, the Antikythera statues had almost certainly been removed by force and were bound for Rome when disaster struck.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>New Lives in Rome, Never Lived<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Had they made it to Rome, the Antikythera statues would have almost certainly ended up in a public setting such as a theatre, portico, or library\u2014not in a private villa or residence. Expropriated Greek art was carefully managed in contemporary Rome, and public display was a principal concern to avoid accusations of personal benefit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>A programme of new study and excavation at the wreck site, undertaken in 2012\u20132025 by the Underwater Ephorate of the Hellenic Ministry of Culture, continues to expand our understanding of the shipwreck and promises to reveal more about the itinerary of the ship and its statues.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"\/>\n\n\n\n<blockquote class=\"wp-block-quote is-layout-flow wp-block-quote-is-layout-flow\">\n<p>The <a href=\"https:\/\/doi.org\/10.1017\/S006824542510021X\" title=\"\">open access article<\/a> appears in the new issue of the <em>Annual of the British School at Athens<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<hr class=\"wp-block-separator has-alpha-channel-opacity\"\/>\n<\/blockquote>\n\n\n\n<p>Brian Martens is a Lecturer in the School of Classics at the University of St Andrews. He is an archaeologist with interests in the art and visual cultures of the ancient Mediterranean world, particularly in the region of the Greek East. Martens has worked as an excavator and researcher at the Athenian Agora for nearly two decades. His book&nbsp;<em>Marble Statuettes of the Roman Period<\/em>&nbsp;was published in The Athenian Agora monograph series in 2025.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>In the mid-1st century BCE, a freighter laden with Greek art was sailing westward in the Mediterranean when it crashed and rapidly foundered, taking some of its crew and passengers down with it. In 1900, Greek sponge-divers discovered this astonishing ancient shipwreck in waters some 50-m deep off the northeast coast of Antikythera, a small [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":823,"featured_media":64718,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[13,6],"tags":[9313,1897,56],"coauthors":[11947],"class_list":["post-64717","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-classics","category-humanities","tag-ath","tag-classical-studies","tag-classics-2"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64717","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/823"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=64717"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64717\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":64737,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/64717\/revisions\/64737"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/64718"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=64717"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=64717"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=64717"},{"taxonomy":"author","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.cambridge.org\/core\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/coauthors?post=64717"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}