Framing the Question: Background
In 1183, Andronikos I Komnenos violently took power in the Byzantine Empire by having the Empress Regent Maria of Antioch executed, and assassinating her son Alexios II. Although he had now gained the throne, the questionable circumstances under which he assumed the role of Emperor necessitated his taking action to legitimize his claim. One of the main ways he sought to do this was through artwork- creating legitimacy through commemoration. Although he commissioned many works throughout the city, the centerpiece of this effort was a massive portrait that Andronikos had designated for the Church of the Forty Martyrs, his intended mausoleum. Although both the church and portrait have been destroyed, a description remains from civil servant Niketas Choniates’s History:
“Outside, near the perforated gates of the temple [of the Forty Martyrs], facing north in the direction of the Agora, Andronikos set up a huge painted panel of himself, not arrayed as an emperor or wearing the imperial golden ornaments, but dressed in the garb of a laborer, of blue-green color and slit all round and reaching down to the buttocks; his legs were covered up to the knees in white boots, and he held a huge curved sickle in his hand, heavy and strong that caught in its curved shape and snared as in a net a lad, handsome as a statue, with only his neck and shoulders showing forth.” [1]
Choniates goes on to imply that this is Andronikos portraying his assassination of Alexios II. This radical, and in truth untenable reading of Andronikos I’s intentions is completely at odds with the objective that Andronikos set out to accomplish- why would the emperor put his misdeeds on such public display if he were, through it trying to solidify his claim to the throne?
A solution to this paradox is offered by Byzantine scholar Antony Eastmond: He claims that Choniates’s reading of the portrait is intentionally “incorrect”, in that it ignores (and even opposes) the meaning that Andronikos intended when he commissioned the work. Most likely, he argues, the portrait was a much more traditional depiction of the emperor in the traditional Byzantine style. Although none of Andronikos’s commissioned works remain against which we can analyze this claim, we can turn to a portrait of Manuel I, Andronikos,s predecessor for a better understanding of the thematic material of the portrait as Andronikos would have understood it. In his work, Eastmond points out “the general bias against Andronikos Komnenos in Choniates’s History… both overtly in his outright condemnations of the emperor’s actions, and covertly in his choice of language” [2]. However, he argues that this form of retroactive meaning-making is no less valid than Andronikos’s original intentions, as “In Byzantium… the polyvalency of images was an acknowledged, indeed welcomed, element in their design. Different meanings were consciously built into images, and yet others could be drawn out” [3]. The story of the portrait given above does not seem to be unique- Eastmond notes that “[Many examples in the History] suggest that there was a great gulf between Andronikos and his intentions on one had, and his subjects and their interpretations on the other.” [4]. Indeed, Choniates was not alone in his mistrust and dislike of Andronikos I: his unpopularity eventually came to a head with a rebellion in the streets, and his punishment at the hands of his own people, depicted in L’Humiliation D’Andronique.
Pictured above is a manuscript illustration, "L'humiliation d'Andronic," which depicts the emperor Andronikos hanged by his own people. The accompanying text describes Andronikos I's attempt to flee Constantinople, before being brought back to the city, having his hand removed and being publicly displayed to endure the abuse of his people.
Pictured on the right is a fresco of Manuel I Komnenos, Andronikos I's predecessor and a lauded diplomat, military leader, and policy maker. This portrait represents a more "traditional" Byzantine portrayal of an emperor, who was understood as having a holy right to rule. Thus, Manuel is represented with a halo. Also of note is his armor, indicative of Manuel's notable reputation in battle.
These two depictions highlight the "great gulf" between Andronikos's understanding of himself, and his people's understanding of him.
[1]. Eastmond, Antony. "An Intentional Error? Imperial Art and “Mis”-Interpretation under Andronikos I Komnenos."
[2]. Ibid.
[3]. Ibid.
[4]. Ibid.