Ode on a Grecian Urn

Ode Grecian

Entering the Greek and Roman art section of the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, I was first struck by the skillful lighting and the overall professionalism inherent in the displays. There were not as many people in this section as in some of the others I had visited that day. Yet because of the caliber of artifacts exhibited at the Met, I still felt continuity with the greater world of ancient art. Looking around the gallery containing the Archaic Greek vases, painted in the "black figure" technique, I was immediately impressed by the range of imagery that was depicted on the vases. The sheer age of the vases was astounding. I know most of them were restored painstakingly by experts, but these were items about 2500 years old. I was drawn to one vase in particular, a "neck-amphora" made of terracotta construction and finished with the classic Archaic black figure technique. According to the description on the Metropolitan Museum's Web site, black figure vase painting involved the application of glaze "in silhouettes," and then after that, details like the drapery are incised using a fine object. The particular amphora I was looking at was attributed to an artist named Exekias. I did not know that there were any famous Greek vase painters.

Then I remembered the underlying purpose of my visit and why I selected this very gallery. I was gazing directly at the "still unravished bride of quietness," the "foster child of silence and slow time," (Keats lines 1, 2). A piece of art like the Exekias neck-amphora tells a story; it is like a visual version of a textbook. As Keats delicately put it in his "Ode on a Grecian Urn," a piece like this is a "Sylvan historian, who canst thus express / A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme." No sooner had I laid eyes on the urn that I quickly understood Keats' infatuation with classical Greek pottery. The first stanza of the poem finishes with a series of rhetorical questions as the poet ponders the meaning of the imagery on the vase. "What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape?" asks the poet (Keats, line 5). "What men or gods are these? What maidens loath? / What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?" (Keats lines 8, 9). These are the very same questions I asked when gazing at the amphora. Who did the painting depict? Why are the figures gathered around a chariot? Where are they going? Who are they? Are they gods or mortals?

Keats ultimately concludes that its silence is its power. Because the amphora cannot answer using words, it has an indelible power over time, history, and the human mind. Without words, the amphora transcends time. Its "Attic shape," and its "silent form" give the amphora a visual power that poetry or other writing does not have (Keats lines 41, 44). The viewer gazes that this splendid 2500-year-old object and is transported to a timeless realm at which all humanity unites. It is miraculous that a 2500-year-old vase can embody the power of time. What happens when viewing the vase is remarkable: instead of answering questions about Greek history, we ask more questions than we ever knew to ask. The vase has accomplished the goal of "teasing us out of thought," with its silent, seductive form (Keats, line 44). The poet states, "Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard / Are sweeter," (Keats, lines11, 12). Ironically, there is a musician depicted on the Exekias amphora. His tune remains unheard to my ears, symbolizing the power of the Grecian urn.

Keats, who chooses poetry as his art form, feels compelled to use verse as the means of paying tribute to the power of the Grecian urn. Although the poet disparages his written art form, Keats has also created a timeless piece that encapsulates the beauty of historical objects. However, I understand what Keats means when he states that the silence of visual art can speak volumes more than any written text.

The artist Exekias completed the black figure painting with flourishes and adornments to suggest that he, too, was interested in more than just telling a story. He was also seeking to pay tribute to the figures on the vase. This leads the viewer to believe those figures must be important somehow. We see clearly a horse-drawn chariot, with three horses. Two of the horses are black and one is white. The contrast between them adds depth and nuance to the painting. Then, something strikes my eye: there is a figure in front of the horses that is noticeably different from the other figures on the vase. This male figure is about half the size of all the other people in Exekias' composition. I imagined that this tiny figure must be a mortal, and the larger figures are the gods. Exekias used size, shape, and form to convey the difference between gods and mortals on the vase.

Standing atop the chariot is a couple, a woman rendered in white and a man rendered in black. They are being greeted, or saluted in some way, by the largest human figure on the vase: what appears to be a female. All of the figures on the vase except for the female are facing forward; she is facing backwards to greet the couple on the chariot. Behind the large female and facing the opposite direction is what appears to be a musician playing a flute.