DUCS Talk Summary: Dr Andrea Capra on “Socrates’ Mask and Plato’s Dialogues”
In what ways do literature and archaeology intersect? What is conceived when comedy and philosophy transcend into portraiture and the architecture of Athens’ Acropolis? And most of all, what happens when you take all of this and apply it to Athens at its acme of glory?
Dr Andrea Capra explored these ideas in the second academic talk of the Classics Society this year, focusing on the many images of Socrates. Dr Capra’s multi-disciplinary approach revolved around Socrates’ (i.e. the “founder” of modern philosophy) reception in literature and art during the 5th and 4th centuries BCE, at the height of Classical Athens. Extended from an article he recently wrote in Socrates and Socratic Studies (“Aristophanes’ Iconic Socrates”), Dr Capra’s analysis ranged from Plato’s dialogues (especially the Symposium) to the artistic representations of Dionysos and Silenos, and on the way passed Athens’ topography, comedy, tragedy, and other 5th- and 4th-century literature.
With this interdisciplinary approach, Dr Capra first set out his methodological and epistemological model; how he would combine and tackle the sources. First, he emphasised the quintessential problem with Plato’s dialogues: though we often understand the dialogues as the primary instrument for teaching philosophy, at the time they aimed rather to win people over to philosophy and attend the schools. This view is evidenced in Aristotle’s contemporary claim (Politics, 1.1265a12–14) that, though “Socrates’ words” from the dialogues possessed brilliance, they were “difficult to be right about everything” — that is, they only contained so much: the truth was discovered by attending the Academy or Lyceum.
This is significant, not just because Dr Capra actually agrees with Aristotle (!), but because it suggests that Plato’s dialogues were a post-theatrical genre. Unlike previous written works, which were often recited as dramatic pieces, these encouraged you to go to the actual recitations (of philosophy). They were true written works, possibly the first instances of written literature as we know it today.
But though Plato’s Socratic dialogues are post-theatrical, they are replete with analogies to Athenian drama. In terms of the techniques used in Plato’s dialogues, the “mouthpiece theory”, that the dialogues can only be understood by taking as a whole the statements of main characters, resembles character arch development in tragedy. Like tragedy and especially comedy, Plato’s dialogues often come very close to alluding to one another, breaking the dramatic illusion through these moments of awareness. These overarching similarities of Plato’s dialogues with theatre serve to enhance our reading, understanding, and enjoyment of the dialogues.
And whilst enjoyment on its own is all very good — how significant is this topic in general? Dr Capra announced that this year’s Classics Departmental theme is precisely on “Plato and comedy”!
Thus, guided by these observations, and the reminder that there is no word in Classical Greek for “literature” per se, and the fact that Athenian theatre, as a performative genre, is brimming with interactions of words and images, Dr Capra set out to explore whether there were any traces of this interaction between words and images in Plato’s post-theatrical dialogues. Do visual elements of the theatre lie in the background of Plato’s written dialogues, and do they produce the interaction of images and words so typical in theatre? And what are the implications of this in relation to Socrates as a character?
Perhaps the most evident interaction is the relation between Socrates and Dionysos, the patron god of theatre. And so Dr Capra started from there.
During the fifth century, Dr Capra noted, a radical change in the artistic iconography of Dionysos was occurring before the eyes of spectators and drinkers alike. Before the 5th century, Dionysos was traditionally portrayed as bearded, dignified, and old. By the end of the fifth, in complete contrast, Dionysos was now a beardless, naked, and alluring youth. Now, instead of a long-draped, static, bearded “totem”, Dionysos was in some instances portrayed reclining on a ship as a symposiast. These images inevitably permeated into the literary images and metaphors of Athenian theatre. And the philosophical arena, too.
Why did this change occur? Dr Capra noted that Isler-Kerény argues the new iconography of Pheidias’ Dionysos on the eastern pediment of the Parthenon immediately had a large impact on contemporary artistic culture. Dionysos here reclines in symposiastic tradition; he wears a (now-faded) thyrsos headband; proudly naked; and held a wine cup, at which he longingly stares. What does it convey? There are many theories, but particularly attractive is its role as the epitomisation of peace and prosperity in Pericles’ Athens, a sort of nunc est bibendum (Latin for “now is the time for drinking!”).
But there is a more direct, physical connection to the theatre. Fifth-century plays in Athens were preformed in the Theatre of Dionysos, located just below the Parthenon. Given that performances involved the audience’s rowdy participation (we can extract this from the plays themselves), it is likely that many spectators, intrigued by the significance of the newly-built Parthenon, would have looked back and upwards from their seats. And the first image they would have likely seen was Dionysos himself on the Eastern pediment, the patron of the play the spectator was watching, his gaze focused directly on the theatre and spectators. The latter might focus back on the performance of, let’s say, Cratinus’ Dionysalexandros (produced right after the Parthenon’s completion), and see an actor playing Dionysos. In front, they might see yet another Dionysos: the cult statue. Talk about permeating different media: this would have had a major impact on the conscience and subconscious of many.
This new image of Dionysos was epitomised in Euripides’ Bacchai, where the youthful god is both seductive and threatening, and Aristophanes’ Frogs, where he is comic and ridiculed: in both, Dionysos was most likely beardless, involved in transvestism and deliberately played with this new iconography.
But how would all this have been viewed in the fourth century BCE, when Plato wrote his dialogues?
Dr Capra noted that a papyrus from Herculaneum recording Philodemus’ text confirms, from Plato’s Symposium 215a-b, that Plato put up a bust of Socrates in the Academy around 387BCE. This is significant because it means there was a constant, visual reminder of Socrates’ presence. But what did it look like? This is where it gets interesting: this bust relates directly to the development of the iconography of Socrates, and herein lies the crux of Dr Capra’s research. It is where the dialogue between the visual and the literal culminates. Socrates’ iconographic development here mirrors the change in the iconography of Dionysus, and demonstrates Plato’s attempt to reverse the negative iconography of Socrates from an ugly, drunken Silenos to a dignified Dionysos or Athenian citizen.
Next, Dr Capra highlighted the two main iconographic types of Socrates in the 5th century. Type A assimilates Socrates to a Silenos, a comic satyr. This coincides with the statue that is “designed to elicit laughter” that Plato describes in Symposium, and is probably the one mentioned in the Herculaneum papyrus. This satyric image deliberately goes against the traditional kalokagatheia, the idea(l) that beautiful aristocratic men were intrinsically “good” and vice versa. Type B is later and depicts Socrates in a more dignified, traditional style; resembling an Athenian citizen. This portrait loses the satyric associations, gaining nobility. But there was also sometimes a transitory phase, a mix between Types A and B; it is this transition from Type A to B that Dr Capra aims to explore. This transition is also reflected in literature — although Socrates was renowned to be downright ugly, in Xenophon’s Symposium, Socrates emphasises the qualities in his ugly senses — his narrow eyes are good for observing, ears large but good for listening.
Plato’s Symposium 221d-222a goes further, and suggests that Socrates resembles Silenos not just in physical appearance, but also in character: he “clothes himself in language…like a wanton satyr”. Apart from creating a possible self-allusion to Plato’s other dialogues, this passage underscores the intimate relation between the Socrates’ physical portraiture and his literal portrait in the Symposium. What we see in this passage, Dr Capra argued, is Plato not inventing the Silenic-Socratic iconography, but emphasising positive aspects of it, in order to catalyse a reversal of Socrates’ image from an ugly Silenos to a honourable Athenian citizen.
What is so special about Silenos? Though mainly portrayed as an ugly drunk, Silenos was also known inversely for his wisdom and revelations, hiding in his inner secrets. Many modern scholars claim that Plato reverses the abusive comments of Socrates’ association with Silenos by removing Silenos from the equation altogether. But Dr Capra emphasises that it is precisely through manipulating already-present aspects of Silenos that Plato is able to create this peripeteia. Thus, Dr Capra argues that Plato should be credited with the genius of portraying Socrates not as Silenos himself, but as a restricted, positive version of Silenos associated with wisdom and knowledge.
But just how is this transition depicted in art and literature, and how does it relate to the intersections between the visual theatre and philosophical arena?
Plato’s Symposium takes place in an andron, which is constantly compared to the stage of a tragic theatre; the idea of using “ridiculous things” for didactic reasons, just as in comedy, is evident in Alcibiades’ mockery of Socrates’ (few) military virtues. Throughout, Socrates’ behaviour is “worth watching” — just as the didactic aims of drama, stressing the visuality of the texts. Further, Alcibiades at one point suddenly quotes Aristophanes’ scorching depiction of Socrates in Clouds: Socrates is “stalking like a pelican, and rolling his eyes”.
What is Alcibiades doing? First of all, setting out the many negative associations of Socrates. The “pelican” recalls the infamous scene in Clouds where Socrates enters ex machina (like a god) on a flying device (Clouds 219–225). To what extent do these accusations really matter — how much would they have influenced the general populace? Significantly: in his Apology, Plato makes Socrates address first and foremost his invisible, implicit accuser: the comedian Aristophanes. Even here, as in the Symposium, Socrates quotes Aristophanes’ Socrates, who, as in Clouds, is “swinging about” and “skywalking”— another instance of intertextuality like drama that focuses again around the visuality of the text: what gives the weight to such accusations is that spectators “saw” them in Aristophanes’ comedy. Thus, Plato deliberately shows the visual aspects of Socrates’ actions coincide with his words. So these accusations had more effect than the actual charge — it is this problem that Plato reverses by emphasising selected aspects of the tradition of Silenos.
We’ve seen the problems and result — but how does Plato achieve it? Now, Dr Capra brought everything together, starting from the above Aristophanes’ Clouds section. An interesting scholion on the line “O ephemeral creature, why call on me?” (223) tells us that the word for “ephemeral”,᾿φήμερε, comes from a dialogue in Pindar. This dialogue was between Silenos and Olympus. Incredibly, from Dr Capra’s exploration of the TLG, these are the only two appearances of the vocative ὦ ᾿φήμερε in the entire (extant) Greek corpus.
STREPSIADES: Socrates! Here, you, call out to him for me, good and loud
DISCIPLE: No, you call him yourself; I’m busy.
STREPSIADES: Socrates! My sweet little Socrates!
SOCRATES: O ephermeral creature, why call on me?
STREPSIADES: First of all, I pray, tell me what you are doing up there?
SOCRATES: I am sky-walking and scrutinising the sun.
(Aristophanes, Clouds 219–225.)
If the scholion is right, it appears that Aristophanes is quoting Pindar. This is a very pointed allusion. However, Dr Capra argues that Aristophanes is more quoting the tradition of Silenos, not Pindar in particular, because the depiction of Silenos as a figure of wisdom, defined by the resurgence of his divine knowledge, was already common knowledge. For example, Aristotle’s Eudemus uses the same word (here accusative, not vocative) when recounting the story of Silenos’ revelation. φήμερε is associated with divine, humanly-unattainable knowledge: “O ephemeral creature” isn’t exactly colloquial — it depicts Silenos’ lofty expression tied with distant knowledge-acquisition. Yet it also depicts the illusion of having it: Socrates isn’t really a god, nor is Silenos. Hence, given the context here, Aristophanes associates Socrates, ecstatically flying on a winged crane, more with the version of Silenos as a drunken fool. So Plato didn’t invent Socrates’ association with Silenos- it was already present. Instead, Plato reversed this negative association by stressing the divine wisdom of Silenos when comparing Socrates.
Dr Capra demonstrated this most clearly in Symposium 221d–222a. While Alcibiades first associates “Socrates’ words” with the “images of Silenos” (note the intersection of the visual and the literal), it is only at first that they seem ridiculous “when you first hear them”. Yes, Socrates does “clothe himself in language like the skin of the wanton satyr [i.e. Silenos]”, does “repeat the same things in the same word”, does elicits laughter “at him[self]”. But then Plato creates a stark syntactic shift which mirrors his shift in his portrayal of Socrates. When one “opens the bust and sees what is within”, which is symbolic both literally in opening physical busts (which were hollow inside) and metaphorically as deciphering one’s character, Socrates/Silenos’ words are “the only words which have a meaning in them”, the “most divine”. Specifically, they have a moral character to them: they are rich “in fair images of virtue”, of “the widest comprehension”. But most importantly, and this is what Plato culminates with, this image of Socrates/Silenos fulfils the duty of “a good and honourable man”. Plato lays out right before our eyes this revolution of the image of Silenos, and consequently of Socrates through assimilation.
It is precisely that Plato emphasises this shade of Silenos, namely the moral wisdom that lies within Silenos’ “ephemeral” nature, when speaking about Socrates, that colours Socrates into a wise and honourable Athenian citizen.
Dr Capra argues that this is seen not just through the literature, but also through the iconography of Socrates that Plato instigated. Type B, where Socrates appears as a dignified Athenian noble, is the portrait sponsored later by the Athenian state, when they ordered Lysippus to place a portrait of Socrates in the Pompeion, the prominent starting place for the Panathenaic festival. We have seen that there was a portrait of Socrates in the Mouseion — if it was Type B, it would have left a large impact on its audience.
Finally, Dr Capra moved onto the reception of Plato’s dialogues. The development we see in Aristophanes devolves from a flying god ex machina to a ridiculous farce. In Plato, we see the opposite: from a comic drunkard, Socrates evolves into a serious holder of the only knowledge “with meaning”. This reciprocal directionality between tragedy and comedy is epitomised by Dionysos, the god of drama. This is promulgated both in plays like Bacchai (seductive to violent god) and Frogs (comic ridicule to tragic judge).
Is there an analogy of Socrates as the patron of Plato’s dialogues and Dionysos /Silenos as the patron of Athenian drama? Plato’s dialogues were likely preformed in the Mouseion at the Academy, precisely where there was that bust of Socrates as Silenos. So Socrates was visible to the audience just like the statue of Dionysos was visible to spectators watching Dionysos’ play in the theatre. Like Silenos/Dionysos, Socrates was both an outcast from Athenian society as an individual but also politically (when the Spartans invaded Attica in the Archidamian War, they ravaged everywhere except the Academy), and topographically, since the rural Academy was outside the urban walls (and Silenos was associated with the rural, Dionysos with the East). Most of all, Silenos and Socrates were both sentenced to death.
On a broader level, Dr Capra argued that we can start to see a handover of power from Dionysos the patron of the theatre to Socrates the patron of the city and Plato’s dialogues. This is hard to show, but is evident in Symposium 175d-e. Agathon replies to Socrates wish (that Agathon had more wisdom) by stating that “Dionysos shall be the judge” of who will “bear off the palm of wisdom”. Dionysos is the god of wine, and the competition eventually turns into a wine-drinking contest of who can stay the most sober at Alcibiades’ proposal. And at the end of Symposium, when Agathon “drops off at dawn”, Socrates calmly “laid them to sleep and rose to depart”:
“At the Lyceum he took a bath, and passed the day as usual. In the evening, he retired to rest at home”.
Socrates has won the wisdom-contest by staying entirely sober after a night’s drinking. He has taken over both the power and wisdom of Dionysos as the god of wine. He also overtakes Dionysos as the god of theatre. At Symposium 213d-e, given we were told the andron of the symposium is like a theatre’s stage and so the whole symposium is like a tragic preformance, in being crowned by Alcibiades for his beauty, Socrates usurps the beauty and role of god of theatre of the new iconography of the young, symposiastic Dionysos as a teasing “universal despot”. In a way Alcibiades embodies Dionysos as a drunken reveller and as a judge (as in Bacchai and Frogs) — Socrates assumes both their qualities and transcends them.
And so, as Socrates walked away into the dawn, having learnt new things and transmitted them to us too, Dr Capra detailed many inspiring new ideas through the night and left us with the feeling of walking through the dawn, having come closer to understanding the fundamental role Plato’s dialogues played in promoting the changing mask of Socrates.
Where did the value of this talk lie for the society? In the fact that Dr Capra included so many different cross-disciplinary sources, media, and methodologies to create a comprehensive whole argument, which appealed to any and every student. By making it inter-disciplinary, including clear explanations and wonderfully-learned sub-arguments, Dr Capra brought out a new aspect of Socrates’ character that ties all aspects of the contemporary culture, and rightly credited Plato for radically improving the image of Socrates that would impact so many disciples down the centuries, right down to us today as we read this.
Quite aptly, just like what Socrates did with philosophy for the masses, Dr Capra demonstrated the opportunities in studying Classics and opened up the Classics for all.
Please note that this piece is the interpretation of one of the members of the audience present at the talk, who tried his best while scribbling down notes! The views expressed herein may not perfectly reflect the author’s ideas.
DUCS Talks Summaries are written by the Academic Affairs Officer. They are an opportunity for people who did not attend the talk to learn about it, for those who attended to clarify and expand on what they learnt, and for all provide extra resources and ideas.
James Hua
Academic Affairs Officer
Durham University Classics Society
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