The Unbearable Brokenness of Artifacts: Dining Utensils as Social Markers of Performance in the Byzantine World (ca. seventh-fifteenth centuries)

These texts suggest that long rectangular tables for dinner guests and gender-segregated dining were introduced in these halls during Middle Byzantine times, and that the previously used open sigma-shaped couches for reclining were by then gradually replaced by chairs and benches for upright sitting at the tables. Exceptions were certain imperial banquets at which traditional “Roman” practices were followed, including the habit of reclined dining. [12] Furthermore, depictions of festive meals in Byzantine palaces, among which miniatures in the twelfth-century Chronicle of John Skylitzes in the Biblioteca Nacional in Madrid, provide additional iconographical information on the implementation of imperial banquets in this period (Figure 1, lower register). [13]

From an archaeological perspective, the performance of Byzantine banquets can be relevant in the study of the layout of excavated structures of the Constantinopolitan palaces and their dining halls in present-day Istanbul (Figure 1, upper register, shows for example plans of the Great Palace and the Mangana Palace during Middle Byzantine times). [14] Seemingly, food was served in these halls with combinations of ingredients (fish together with meat) which contemporary westerners considered “unnatural” (although today we would welcome these as “surf-and-turf” options). The opulent meals were accompanied by music, songs, dances, and entertainment acts showing “marvelous tricks” (among which acrobatics). [15]

Apart from these aspects of conspicuous consumption, the written sources describe the internal design of these banquet halls, which included portable chairs (sellia) and couches, separate tables, embroidered curtains and carpets, hanging lamps (polykandela), music instruments (including hydraulic organs and cymbals), and specifically mention the sprinkling of floors with myrtle, rosemary, and rose-water. [16] The texts also refer to golden and enameled objects that were used during banquets at the Great Palace, as well as to silver bowls in repoussé and vessels encrusted with precious stones (Table 1). [17] Apparently, during military campaigns the Byzantine Emperor even dined with four solid golden utensils (skoutellia), two solid golden wine cups (minsourakia), and two solid golden vessels (orthomillia) on festive occasions. [18]

To get some sort of an idea of how these priceless objects must have been used as part of the performance during tenth-/eleventh-century banquets and religious ceremonies at Constantinople, one could nowadays pay a visit to the San Marco Treasury at Venice or the Kunsthistorisches Museum at Vienna and gaze at the Byzantine artifacts on display, a glittering collection of objects made of glass or sardonyx, enriched with gold cloisonné enamel, precious stones, and stunning rock crystal. [19] Other Middle Byzantine food-related artifacts kept in the San Marco treasury at Venice, among which prestigious chalices and dishes (paten) made of alabaster, sardonyx, and Islamic glass, also point in the same direction of dining as dazzling performance. [20] Especially in the three main imperial places at Constantinople (the Great Palace, the fortified Boukoleon Palace, and the semi-suburban Blachernae Palace), [21] such imposing vessels would have been used as social markers or even as some sort of stage props during banquets, receptions, and ceremonies (Figure 2). However, here the focus is not so much on these precious objects made of high-status materials, but rather on the more mundane ceramic artifacts found in the excavated remains of these Byzantine palaces in the imperial capital (Table 2). [22]

Excavated context	MBYZ shape	LBYZ shape	Ancient names	MBYZ/LBYZ names	Description
Great Palace (1936–1937)			acetabulum scutula paropsis	skoutellion missouraklion triaflion	Small bowl; made of gold, silver, clay and glass
Former Sultanahmet Prison (2000, 2001)			patina phiale patera	pinakion pinaskous missourion?	Shallow dish or plate; could also be made of gold, silver with relief decoration or Arab script; to serve food and to eat from
Great Palace (1936–1937)			gabata	gabadion gavathai lekanion?	Broad, deep serving vessel/bowl; deepest ones were used for meat
Former Sultanahmet Prison (2001)			gararium	saltsarion gararion	Portable chafing dish
Great Palace (1936–1937) / Former Sultanahmet Prison (2001)			poculum	potirion krion kupellon	Beaker, chalice; could also be made of metal or emerald
Former Sultanahmet Prison (2000)			skyphos calix kylix	kaukion kakos skyphion	Drinking vessel for wine; made of clay, wood or stone
Great Palace (1936–1937)			calathus modiolus	modiolos kerastikon	Small cup/mug with straight wall; made of gold, silver, glass, clay, wood, alabaster
Former Sultanahmet Prison (2001)				koupa koupaki	Cup with convex wall
Former Sultanahmet Prison (2003)/ Great Palace (1958)				kandela lichnari	Lamp

The first thing to note about Middle Byzantine tableware (made of clay) is that many of these were ceramic imitations of the shapes and decoration styles of Middle Byzantine gilded glass and silver vessels. [23] The ceramic utensils were the embodiment of what is known as the trickle-down effect, the process by which the fads and fashions of the rich flow vertically from the upper classes in ever cheaper forms to the lower ones within a society. [24] Among the Byzantine upper classes, ceramic tableware was generally considered of lower quality (and status) than a golden or silver vessel. [25] However, if a household could not afford to have silverware on the table, it was possible to opt for similar-looking vessels made of earthenware. This was also a cost-effective solution for parts of a palace or aristocratic house which were not in view of outside eyes. In fact, ceramic vessels were a relatively cheap commodity and used at all social levels during Byzantine times.

Among the ceramic finds excavated at Constantinople dating from the Early Byzantine era (ca. the seventh to early ninth centuries), of particular interest are in this respect unglazed domestic utensils for food preparation (such as cooking pots and mortaria) which are part of pottery assemblages retrieved from two palaces in the heart of the city: the Palace of Antiokhos and the Great Palace (Figure 3). [26] The last one also yielded locally made glazed dishes, bowls, and a double-handled pot of so-called Glazed White Ware I, the first glazed product par excellence made in Constantinople (Figure 3). [27] Initially, Glazed White Ware I was merely imitating the shape of cooking pots, but eventually became more and more decorated with petal applications and simple incised motifs for use on the table. [28]

Ceramic finds of the Middle Byzantine era (ca. ninth to eleventh centuries) from four excavated palaces at Constantinople show, on the other hand, a larger amount and a wider variety of glazed tableware shapes (mostly of the Glazed White Ware II and Polychrome Ware repertoire with elaborate incised or painted motifs), which were probably used on or next to the table (Figure 4). [29]

These finds included large dishes, broad shallow bowls, and wide-rimmed drinking vessels, as well as chalices, cups, and chafing dishes. [30] It is clear that the practice of using decorated glazed pottery for table purposes—even in the imperial palaces—became more widespread in this period. From the perspective of dining habits, however, not only the decoration is significant, but in particular the increase of large, open, and shallow forms. The archaeological record, which thus shows a change in the pottery repertoire towards large dishes and shallow bowls, raises all sorts of questions concerning their actual use and changes in dining practices.

From the perspective of material culture, the increase of large open forms in the Middle Byzantine pottery finds from palaces at Constantinople clearly suggests that the dishes and bowls were meant for communal dining rather than for individual dining. [31] This seems to be confirmed when we compare these actual finds with the depiction of dining scenes on Middle Byzantine miniatures, which show without exception just one large plate placed centrally on the table (Figure 5). [32]

This dish was apparently used communally for the main course by the diners, who were partly reclining or partly sitting around a semicircular table. By then, some guests are reclining on coaches, which was a dining custom deriving from Late Antiquity and in Byzantine times a mark of high status. This dining position was certainly a privilege for guests of honor, which would be seated in special places—often in the right and left corners of the table. [33] Evidently, there were no knives, spoons, or forks on the table, which implies that all guests used only their fingers to eat directly from the shared central plate or bowl. This also makes sense: using one hand only while dining would be more convenient in a reclining position at the table.

It has to be noted that most Middle Byzantine miniatures with dining scenes are depictions of the Biblical Last Supper. This means that the depicted dishes and table setting may have some sort of symbolic meaning, although it seems safe to assume that to a considerable degree the miniaturists will have taken the context of their daily life and the dining scenes they were familiar with as inspiration. In the end, it seems quite certain that the study of Last Supper scenes can certainly offer information on long-term changes in the depicted tableware and other dining utensils, and thus also on long-term changes in eating habits and foodways. [34]

In fact, other dining scenes on miniatures in eleventh-century Byzantine manuscripts, which do not depict the Last Supper, but for example scenes such as “the feast of Herod” or “Jesus sitting in the House of Simon the Leper,” show each and every time the same pattern of diners reclining and sitting around a large, oval table with one (ostensibly) communal plate or dish in the center. [35] On most miniatures, one may notice an interesting addition of two cups or chalices (perhaps for drinking?) next to the open, communal dish on the table (Figure 6).

On a few miniatures, one can even distinguish a realistic-looking authepsa next to the table (Figure 6, right). This was a metal samovar used for heating water that was meant to be mixed with wine for drinking purposes, as is attested by similar-looking examples with intricate interiors excavated in western Turkey, Italy, and Nubia. [36]

The combination of one dish flanked by two cups/chalices can be seen on many Middle Byzantine miniatures with dining scenes, including depictions of the Last Supper, strongly suggesting communal wining and dining. [37] In fact, an eleventh-century miniature of Job’s Children from St. Catherine’s Monastery at Sinai in Egypt shows for instance—apart from the one large communal plate and two communal cups—the act of communal dining itself: five of the ten diners actually grasp with their hands towards and into the centrally placed dish (Figure 7). [38] In addition, this miniature shows again the use of an authepsa during the meal; this time made in a more old-fashioned style in front of the table (Figure 7, lower right). [39]

In short, both the archaeological evidence and the pictorial record point to the sociocultural habit of communal dining in circles of the imperial court during Middle Byzantine times. And as the well-to-do classes were seemingly eating with their hands, the less wealthy were most probably not using another eating performance.

As far as the shapes of ceramic tableware vessels of the seventh/early-eighth to mid-eleventh centuries excavated at the Great Palace are concerned, a wide-rimmed dish on a ring foot was apparently the most commonly used vessel in this period (Figure 8). [40]

In a more general way, it is obvious that the most used shapes for tableware in the imperial palace were mutually open and large with a wide rim diameter (Figure 9).

That this typology was not confined to the imperial court alone is confirmed by similarly dated pottery vessels from other excavations in the city, among which those found at the churches of St. Eirene and St. Polyeuktos. [41]

The wide-open communal dishes and flanking drinking cups, recovered in the imperial palaces at Constantinople and shown on Middle Byzantine dining scenes, have many similarities with shapes of tableware of the tenth to twelfth centuries that were excavated in the Aegean basin and the Black Sea region. [42] Middle Byzantine pottery assemblages found here show a marked increase in dishes with a larger rim diameter (sometimes up to 30 cm). [43] Measuring their diameter and height, the calculated volume of these vessels used in Middle Byzantine dining ranges roughly between 3.5 and 11.3 liters. So, they were more than suited for grabbing with your fingers in quite opulent dishes.

Things were about to change after the twelfth century, both in the territorial power of the Byzantine Empire and in the dining habits. A late twelfth/thirteenth-century Byzantine miniature of a Last Supper dining scene on a croce dipinta (painted cross) in the Museo Nazionale di San Matteo in Pisa (Italy) shows five bowls for the apostles, instead of one large dish in the middle of the table (Figure 10, upper left). [44]

In this way, the diners, who were sitting upright and not reclining, were sharing one small bowl between two or three men. They were apparently expected to eat together from the same bowl only with their immediate neighbors. Furthermore, the food was by now not only handled with the fingers but also with a knife, which as a table utensil became more easily accessible for diners in a sitting position at the table.

The archaeological records show substantial changes in Byzantine ceramics as well. The typical Middle Byzantine tablewares seem to have gone out of use in the palaces of Constantinople during the thirteenth century, being overtaken in the so-called Late Byzantine/Frankish period by incised tableware with sometimes two or more colors in the glaze. [45] In addition to the vast improvement in the quality of the lead glaze (which became thicker and with a more glassy appearance), a fine, thinly potted ware replaced the previous thick-walled tableware of the Middle Byzantine era.

Noteworthy is also a change in shape: from the thirteenth century onwards deep small bowls replaced the shallow large dishes (Figure 10, right). These deep bowls seem to have been specifically suited for fairly liquid mixtures or were perhaps even used as drinking vessels (hanap). [46] In general, it is clear from the archaeological assemblages that in the Late Byzantine/Frankish period (between ca. the thirteenth and mid-fifteenth centuries) much smaller bowls with smaller rim and base diameters formed the majority of diagnostic forms. [47]

Apart from size, it is also worthwhile to measure the volume capacity of the Byzantine tableware. To do this, I have selected some pottery assemblages from the eastern Mediterranean, preferably from single datable closed deposits, ranging from Early Byzantine to Late Byzantine/Frankish times (ca. mid-seventh to fifteenth centuries). [48] When looking at the graph in Figure 11, it is clear that the height of the vessels goes up throughout the centuries, while the volume becomes less over time.

The same trend from Early Byzantine to Late Medieval times can be distinguished in excavated examples in combination with the iconography of that period. Measuring their diameter and height, the calculated volume of the Late Byzantine/Frankish vessels roughly ranges between 1.3 and 2.4 liters (Figure 10, lower register).

In addition, other trends in Late Medieval ceramics in the eastern Mediterranean shed light on new developments in dining practices. Of particular interest is, for instance, the use of different color percentages on pottery per period found at excavations in the so-called Triconch Palace at Butrint in southern Albania (see the graph in Figure 12). [49]

Although this is hardly explored territory, the presence or the absence of colored decoration on ceramics can contribute to the development of methodologies by which consumption patterns can be recognized in archaeological contexts. I have, therefore, divided the pottery assemblages from the Triconch Palace into decorated wares with one painted color, two painted colors, three painted colors, and, finally, four (or more) painted colors. After differentiating these four groups from Middle Byzantine to more recent times, it is obvious that the Late Byzantine/Frankish (here “LMED”) and Early Venetian periods (here “EVEN”) in Butrint produced by far the most colorful wares (Figure 13).

This may reflect the taste for colorful everyday objects during these Late Medieval periods (ca. thirteenth to fourteenth centuries), but it reflects also other aspects of sociocultural performance. The large number of decorated wares with three colors (47%) clearly underlines the complexity of decoration on serving vessels during the Late Middle Ages, and it is tempting to relate this to wider socioeconomic developments in this part of the Mediterranean. Certainly partly as a result of flavors of the Arab cuisine coming northward via Sicily, southern Italy, and Spain, as well as by way of returning Crusaders, there was, for instance, an increasing interest in food in Late Medieval southern Europe. A clear symptom of this interest was the emergence of the first cookery and etiquette books since Roman times. [50]

Striking in this period was also the desire to endow food itself with form, appearance, and color. To the physical side of eating and the existing sociocultural performance of dining, a new aspect seems now to have suddenly been added: the aesthetic pleasure of looking at food and at the utensils in which it was served. [51] In other words: the emphasis at the dinner table was at least partly migrating from the mouth to the eyes. From this perspective, it is no wonder that colors made a spectacular entry in this period, not only in food but also in ceramic tableware. The Late Medieval table became crowded with colorful artifacts as never before: not only in Butrint, but also in other places in the eastern Mediterranean, among which the Byzantine palaces at Constantinople.

As far as the capital of the Byzantine Empire was concerned, the introduction of colorful tableware and food was not the only change with impact on the performance of daily life of the elite. An important event in the history of the majestic palaces was the development of a second imperial residence, the Blachernae Palace at the opposite end of Constantinople. Originally it had been a mere fortified building in the extreme northwest of the city, but from the eleventh/twelfth century onwards, it became rather a castle that looked very much like a Western Medieval-style small royal palace, including a banquet hall (Figure 2). [52]

In the late fourteenth-century treatise on court ceremony and protocol by “Pseudo-Kodinos” we learn about a single reception-cum-dining hall (triklinos) used for banquets following ceremonies (such as the prokypsis on a platform) in the palace’s courtyard. [53] The large halls in the Great Palace would have been rather suited for big receptions and events, while the smaller dining area at the Blachernae Palace would be more appropriate for dining on a smaller scale, such as feasting for limited gatherings or private parties. In such an intimate setting, smaller-sized ceramic bowls and beakers (potiria) would obviously fit much better than the large vessels used at the Great Palace before (Figure 14). [54] And, interestingly enough, both the pictorial and the archaeological record of this period seem to illustrate a shift towards smaller-sized pottery (see, for instance, Table 3). [55]

Many depictions of dining scenes of this later period show a quite sudden change towards a greater variety and a larger number of vessels, jugs, cutlery, and individual pieces of bread on the table. [56] The food is now divided into several smaller bowls, which were apparently shared by only three or four guests at the table. A fourteenth-century fresco from Cyprus for instance clearly shows this separation of food into various smaller bowls, as well as the individual use of jugs and even of glass beakers and glass wine jugs (Figure 15, upper left). [57]

Furthermore, the vessels with food and containers of wine or water on the fresco are not placed in a clear order on the table. The guests were expected to share the bowls and two knives between three or four men. Of particular interest is also that the wall painting shows simultaneously an oinochoe (a jug with a short neck and trefoil rim) and a potirion (a drinking cup) for the distribution and (individual or semi-individual) drinking on this table (Figure 15, lower register, center). [58]

The archaeological record shows likewise an increase in smaller-sized tableware and the use of ostensibly individual or semi-individual drinking utensils. At excavations in Istanbul, Thessaloniki, and Corinth, fairly ordinary glass finds (not seen since Late Roman times) reappear again in archaeological contexts from the eleventh century onwards. [59] The assemblages of these excavations include a wide range of drinking vessels, such as bowls, goblets, (prunted) beakers, cups, bottles, and jugs, usually made of transparent glass in a pale greenish color. [60] Interestingly enough, the Byzantine written sources clearly suggest simultaneously a change towards increased wine consumption since the twelfth century. [61]

Most of the above-discussed developments in dining habits and performance at the Byzantine table are related to elite contexts. We just do not know the precise level of use and importance of ceramics within more modal urban or rural Byzantine households. Where silver and rock crystal vessels were certainly largely confined to the court and upper aristocratic/clerical classes, in humbler households, food could be prepared, cooked, and served in vessels made of clay, wood, basketry, leather, or stone. We may assume that vessels made of nonceramic materials almost certainly occupied a position at least as important as that of pottery in the hierarchy of materials. [62] As it is often difficult, if not impossible, to find the remains of organic materials or certain metal wares in the excavated layers of Constantinopolitan palaces or other Byzantine sites in the Aegean, the problem of these “missing artifacts” in archaeological assemblages should be a constant concern for archaeologists. [63]

A telling reminder of this issue is to be found in a text of the fourteenth-century Byzantine historian Nicephoros Gregoras. He stresses a new hierarchy of materials in his troublesome time, when the imperial court at Constantinople is so impoverished that this required the replacement of gold and silver vessels by those made of “ceramic and clay,” suggesting also the use of other materials. [64] His text coincides with the transfer of eating performances of the imperial court to the small-scale dining hall in the Blachernae Palace. The impoverished Emperor could now only entertain on a reduced scale, and his family and guests had to eat from smaller-sized bowls, made of colorful glazed earthenware if they were lucky.

It is possible that between the seventh and ninth centuries golden, silver, and cloisonné enamel vessels were used more often than is known as social markers of performance on the dining table of the Byzantine elite, but unfortunately it is impossible to establish this because—for obvious reasons—remains of precious metals are seldom part of archaeological assemblages. It is, however, certain that the first locally made glazed ceramics from Constantinople were rather used for utilitarian reasons (such as food processing) than as tableware. The usage of glazed earthenware tableware increased significantly in the capital only between the tenth and twelfth centuries. In particular, substantial amounts of large, wide-rimmed dishes dating from this period (obviously used for communal dining) have been found in excavated layers of the city’s imperial palaces.

It is quite likely that during this period these portable ceramic utensils, which offered at least some sensory experience due to their colorful glazed interiors, gradually replaced high-status golden, silver, sardonyx, and glass vessels which were formerly used at the imperial court. Centrally placed on the table, large earthenware dishes (with rim diameters up to 30 cm) were apparently used communally by all diners around the table, who used their fingers to consume the food.

My hypothesis is that the shift in materials, fabrics, shapes, and functions of the Constantinopolitan tableware, as reflected in the assemblages excavated in the imperial palaces, can be explained by changes in court ceremonials, dining habits, and eating protocols. In this perspective, both the archaeological record of the material culture, the pictorial evidence, and the textual sources tell the same story of shifting performances, both at the court, and perhaps in a wider sociocultural sense.

If we are to explore this line of approach, the consequence would be that we understand broken pottery not only as an archaeological dating tool, but that we should also “read” the assemblages as sources of information about their own functional, cultural, and social contexts. In fact, ceramic vessels were in Byzantine times (as they still are) quite omnipresent objects of daily life, containers from which both the rich and the poor, both the emperor and the peasant, once ate and drank—while they could also have been used in a variety of other ways, even as realistic looking stage props during Byzantine banquets and ceremonies of the elite.

Above I have tried to understand the shifts and changes in shapes and functions of excavated Byzantine pottery finds from Constantinopolitan palaces in conjunction with written documents on court performances, the depiction of dining scenes, and with wider socioeconomic developments. The combination of the various kinds of information leads to a pattern, which links shifts in dining practices to changes in sociocultural and political contexts. I would suggest that there were rather clear changes from exclusively communal dining in Middle Byzantine times (more focused on sharing food together) to a gradual transitional form of more Western noncommunal, small-group dining in the Late Byzantine/Frankish period (which may represent the beginning to personal consumerism). And that these changes would explain much of the changing shapes, sizes, volumes, and decoration styles in the excavated pottery assemblages, especially in the case of the Blachernae Palace. This transition probably took place at a different pace in different parts of the capital, not to speak of different parts of the Empire.

However, all this needs further study. In the future, it may prove also worthwhile to undertake research of differences between and changes in the cultural values of food and drink among the well-to-do and the poorer classes in Byzantine society. In short: one could try to look past the court elite and adjust the focus a bit closer to the individuals behind the broken pieces of pottery. Because in the end, the job of an archaeologist is to try and answer questions about genuine people in the real past, whether they broke their ceramic dishes as a theatrical act at a communal dinner party in an imperial banquet hall, or by accident in a humble farmer shack.

It is a pleasure to thank Niki Tsironis and the other organizers of the international workshop on “Performance and Performativity in Late Antiquity, Byzantium and Beyond” for inviting me to participate in this exciting meeting. Furthermore, I would like to extend my thanks to Sebastiaan L. Bommeljé for critically reading my text and to Federico Cappadona for helping me with the drawings in Figures 5, 6, 7, 10, and 15.