From painted embellishments on altars and temples, marble flooring, dyed sacrificial ribbons and even the colouration of ritual animals, colour was an inescapable aspect of religious experience. Polychromy was not only decorative, it created a visual medium with which those navigating sacred spaces could interact, together with the written word and the language of shape and form. Colour could communicate to the ancient viewer associations of its source; the significance of both where its pigment or dyestuff was harvested and the journey it undertook, both in terms of manufacture and simple geography, in order to arrive before the observer. The very conception of ancient sight, with rays reaching from the eyes in a particularly haptic process of sensory feedback, meant that looking at colours was for the ancient viewer an experience in itself. How would visitors to the sacred spaces of the ancient world have ‘read’ the visual cues surrounding them, and how could the design of colours in ritual spaces influence the reactions and emotions of those witnessing sacred activity? This paper seeks to investigate and unpick some of the chromatic language found in religious spaces to better inform an understanding of ritual activity in Greco-Roman society.

Processions were among the earliest ‘moving pictures’ in which the brain could develop the cognitive process of ‘reading’ a landscape and embedding a memory through sensory experiences. Salutaris’ foundation, a text inscribed outside the theatre at Ephesus which records the organization of a ritual procession for Artemis, tends to be treated as a factual guide by scholars, rather than as aspirational script for an event: repeated legal clauses, claims of control and permanency, and the white marble on which it was carved, underwrite the vivid sensual experience and transiency of a ritual event. This paper endeavors to contextualize Salutaris’ foundation by incorporating directives of the text together with an analysis of the procession as a practical event and an emotional experience. As a sensorial experience, one can explore aspects of the performance that could not be controlled: the weather, the attitude of the audience, and the behaviour of the performers. Did aspirational directives of ritual behavior come to fruition in a ritual event? How did the experience of an event shape its role and meaning? This cognitive approach provides insights to both the ritual event and the ways that processions could be read by the viewer.

How do we experience ritual? What role does this experience play in the perception and codification memory? This chapter begins by considering the relationship between senses, cognition, and memory in ritual experiences, in particular, the complex interplay between ritual performance, emotions, and material objects, together with the limitations of script-based approaches to surviving accounts. Situating the volume within current debates on religious ritual in the ancient world from the perspectives of cognitive science of religion and sensory studies, this chapter explores how variability in ritual experiences can be assessed through cognitive approaches to rituals as lived experiences. Having outlined why this volume is timely, necessary, and how it contributes to challenging established views and furthering debate surrounding ritual experiences in the Roman world, the introduction also addresses the challenges of cognitive assessments and how these challenges are met across the volume, through a variety of different contexts and approaches. Lastly, the introduction briefly presents each of the five case studies, drawing on common themes and issues explored in each case study, and considering the global relevance and transdisciplinary applications of scholarship in this volume.

A long-standing rivalry, filled to the brim with warfare and mutual dislike – that is the picture provided in most investigations of Atheno-Boiotian relations. These often, however, employ a shorter chronological framework, rather than a diachronic overview of the Archaic and Classical periods (550–323 BCE), as will be given here. Moving through this time frame, the fluctuations in outlook between the two will be examined, illustrating that the notion of long-standing enmity with brief moments of friendship portray a faulty impression of this relationship. The wider perspective allows for a more complex picture to emerge. It also brings to the fore the issues of historiography, or how the silence or cursory treatment of events in our sources should not automatically be taken as evidence of periods of hostility, such as after the Persian Wars. This analysis of these periods betrays the intentions of our (literary) sources and, in turn, the assumptions of later scholars in following them. Instead, the neighbourly relationship was mostly one of peaceful co-existence, only occasionally disturbed by the threat of a common foe or through direct warfare.

How did polities interact in the Archaic and Classical periods, and which norms influenced their behaviour? This chapter aims to answer these questions. By moving away from the dominant Realist interpretation of ancient history, and employing a variety of themes that played a role in neighbourly relations, a fresh and different understanding of neighbourly diplomatic interactions emerges. Four norms are investigated; first, the decision to go to war or avoid that possibility; second, friendship ties; third, reciprocity; and fourth, reputation. By analysing the reasoning behind the breakdown of neighbourly relations, it will become that clear political actors frequently sought ways to restore the status quo and peaceful co-existence. A second factor is the friendship ties between leaders and how this influenced the direction of the neighbours vis-à-vis one another. The third aspect is reciprocity, and how this formed a staple of neighbourly relations and could be called upon to reinforce neighbourly ties. Finally, the notions of reputation and trust are investigated to show that the reputation of a polis influenced neighbourly relations, whether positively or negatively. Earlier behaviour, such as abandoning an alliance, impacted decision-making and required significant efforts to restore the trust between the neighbours.

Nobody hates like a Greek neighbour does, to paraphrase Simon Hornblower. But did this reflect a genuine inimical attitude, or are there more layers to commemorative practices? An analysis of the neighbourly commemorative practices reveals a different reality. Looking at dedications, festivals and literary sources provides a more nuanced insight. Rather than a preference for Panhellenic arenas to propagate a warring rivalry to the largest audience, local venues and spaces were preferred. The thinking behind this localised commemoration are the intentions to strengthen local cohesion vis-à-vis a known ‘other’, in this case the neighbouring polity. Dedications at sanctuaries like Olympia or Delphi were inspired by a desire to proclaim credentials for leadership over all of Greece, rather than stress the localised interactions. Often these were made with or in relation to the Spartans, meaning these sanctuaries provided a different audience for other goals. This becomes clearest by looking at a local sanctuary, the Amphiareion at Oropos. Here both polities aimed to promote their ownership by mostly targeting local audiences. This example demonstrates the potential of contested sanctuaries for understanding local rivalries and commemorative practices and how they acted as mirrors for neighbourly relations.

What remains to be said of the Atheno-Boiotian relationship? Was it a rivalry, or can we consider something altogether more benign? The conclusion ties together all the previously investigated phenomena and aspects, such as different aspects of interstate relations, geopolitics and commemoration. It returns to Pagondas’ speech in an effort to underline that the Boiotian general was indeed referring to an anomaly in neighbourly relations. Instead, the neighbours were more mutually compatible and reliant on each other’s goodwill, meaning that warfare and hostility were not the preferred mode of interaction between the two. This investigation thus provides a blueprint for further analyses of neighbourly relationships, since human experience is multifocal and cannot be caught in a simplistic, monolithic model that does not appreciate that complexity.

Egeria, a late fourth century Christian pilgrim to Jerusalem, describes a dramatic ritual on the morning of Good Friday. This text is remarkable on several counts: it is written by a female, it has an early date (soon after Constantine’s initiatives in establishing Christian pilgrimage) and it provides a wonderfully detailed description of the areas visited in Jerusalem during Holy Week. She and the other pilgrims venerate the wood of the cross, the inscription over Jesus’s head, the horn used to anoint the kings of Israel, and the ring of Solomon. Throughout her account, Egeria stresses the importance of pilgrims being assured of the truth of their faith by encountering physical landscapes and tangible objects. Theatrical studies in dramaturgy and stagecraft affirm the role which props play in helping actors activate memory and achieve a rich performance. This chapter examines the network of symbols in these artifacts using ritual studies, theatre analysis and space and place theory, demonstrating how these objects were used as props in a complex ritual drama, which offered material, sensory and embodied experiences for religious pilgrims.

How can we use cognitive approaches to embed the dynamic and often variant outcomes of ritual experiences? Key themes that have emerged in both individual and communal rituals are the subjectivity and variation in these experiences: the role of physical and emotional interaction in shaping memory. The concluding chapter begins with a vivid discussion of cognition, sensation and experience, exploring how these elements function together, creating a spectrum of variable experiences and outcomes in modern and ancient ritual contexts. This section is used to further develop ideas, common themes and issues connecting the different chapters – the versatility of ritual experience(s), the role of embodied cognition in constructing ritual experience(s), the importance of the relationship between distributed cognition and ritual experience(s) - and how these themes help to expand disciplinary boundaries in the study of ancient religions and religious rituals. The concluding chapter also situates the themes of the volume within current cognitive science of religion research as well as broader disciplines such as art, heritage and museum studies. These discussions address how the study of ancient religions from a cognitive perspective can contribute to a number of disciplines, opening up new venues for research and interdisciplinary collaboration.

How should we perceive the relationship between Athenians and Boiotians in the Archaic and Classical periods (550–323 BCE)? Previous scholarship regarded it as rife with hostility, perpetually locked in mutual fear, only rarely interspersed with times of peace or alliance. In this introduction, the speech given by the Boiotian general Pagondas prior to the Battle of Delion (424 BCE) will be used to argue that his arguments about moralistic behaviour, commemoration and borderland interaction between the neighbours were an exception, rather than the rule, unlike conclusions of previous scholars. Following this speech, the chapter turns to a description of the geographical layout of both regions and how these were intertwined and connected. After this description, the three themes of the book – norms of interstate relations, geopolitical considerations and commemorative practices – are elaborated upon to show what the current state of scholarship on these issues is. It stresses that human experience and nature are complex and multifocal and should therefore treated as such, rather than aim for an overarching framework to capture the lived experience.

The abolition of the poll tax in Illyricum and Thrace made automatically the estate owner’s guarantee for this void and with that the census registration and the colonate. To prevent loss of labour in these war-stricken provinces the emperors introduced in 371 and 398 the rule that, although now free from subjection, former coloni had to remain on the estate and render services. This ‘free’ colonate, which must have existed before, was also introduced in Palestine in 386. The status of the ‘free’ coloni in Byzantium looks very similar to the status of the serfs, villeins, or Hörigen in medieval West-Europe, who also were tied to a plot of land. But there were differences too: unlike in some cases there, these coloni were not in any way subjected to the jurisdiction of their masters, nor required to ask permission for marriage, etc. Further, as far as we know, there is no link between the two phenomena. If we would call them nevertheless serfs, it should always be with the adjective Byzantine.