Untitled

epeated use was supplemented by fresh and
inventive schemes, which counter the idea of a
model book. He argues that the only association
that exists between mosaics of the same theme are
those which can be ascribed just to the subject
itself, to the choice made by artists of the same
background who might select similar depictions,
and possibly would have consulted a common
origin, such as a mosaic, a textile, or an illustrated
manuscript; though many of the same or
similar themes might still show variation and differences.
However, his supporting examples are
too randomly chosen, his contentions are not too
convincing, nor does he look at the question outside
mosaics (Dunbabin 1999: 302, n. 48; Talgam
2002: 12-13).
Balmelle and Darmon (1986: 246-247 and Bruneau
in the discussion p. 249) maintain there was
no need for pattern books, and the transmission
of the iconographic tradition was passed on from
master to student orally during the formation of a
pictor. Proof lies in the fact that even if the iconography
is similar it is not identical. However, this
fact can serve equally well to prove the existence
of pattern books: iconography, schemes, and conventions
are similar because they are based on a
common pattern book; differences in execution
are simply the result of the artist’s talent. But Kitzinger
(in the discussion in Balmelle and Darmon
1986: 248) contends that the pictor’s design was
used in various media, and elucidates the correspondence
of graphic designs which served
the pictores in different places. Hunt (1994: 123)
assumes that the transmission of motifs should be
attributed to the designers/mosaicists, and that
the inscriptions on mosaics suggest that they are
‘specific working practices by artists collaborating
in small, often family, groups or units’.
There are some scholars who maintain the artists’
sources for the motifs, their technique and the
repertoire of designs is based on the circulation
of classical models, on examples of depictions in
other media, on a mosaicist’s studio tradition and
on a practice passed down in a family, or among
groups and teams of workshops.
There may well have been a studio practice
in which motifs, themes, designs, and patterns in
common use passed down in a family or workshop;
they might have contained illustrated notes
on various fields of expertise, special interests,
traditional elements, and the like, and may have
been the exclusive property of the mosaicist. The
recurrence of a group of motifs could be the result
mosaicists, workshops, and the repertory 275
of the artists’ training, which included learning
the designs and the repertory of the workshop.
Exchange and circulation of ideas among artists
resulted in the distribution of themes and
motifs.
Another possibility is that the creative process
of reproducing episodes and patterns from
memory and innovation yielded sketches by the
mosaicist for repeated use. The artist mirrored
or imitated the bucolic life he witnessed. An
obvious example is the milking of a goat on the
Kissufim mosaic (fig. VII-10). The different renditions
of the grape-treading action (pl. VII.3) was
the outcome of the mosaicist’s own observation
rather than copying from a pattern book. The
same holds for the Gaza amphora illustrations
(pl. XII.6f-h), which were drawn by the mosaicist
from the real thing. The depiction of the giraffe is
a useful example of two different approaches, one
showing the native giraffe (pl. XII.7a-d), hence
possibly drawn from nature by the mosaicists of
the Gaza region, the other giraffes (pl. XII.7e-g)
apparently copied from a model.
The natural world, animals, beasts, birds, and
humans were portrayed with accurate standard
characteristics, such as posture, gestures, and
movements acknowledged from the surrounding
natural environment. Some typical episodes were
selected from activities witnessed in the arena;
however, they complied with traditional conventions,
so that the mosaicist presented renditions
similar in many aspects.
Examples of depictions in other media, especially
portable items, were a readily available
source for reproduction in mosaics pavements.
For instance, the Nile Festival building mosaic
at Sepphoris shows the Nilometer rendered as
a round tower mounted on a rectangular base
with a vaulted opening, and a putto on another
putto’s back who engraves the number IZ (Weiss
and Talgam 2002: 61, 67-68). The similar episode
appears on a 6th-century silver bowl from
Perm (now at the Hermitage Museum, dated by
imperial stamps to 491-518) (fig. XII-15) and
on Coptic textiles (Volbach 1961: 41,360-361,
pl. 252; Netzer and Weiss 1992a: 38; 1992b:
76-78; Weiss and Talgam 2002: 67).
The Jerusalem Orpheus mosaic shares several
common points with the ivory pyxis from
San Columbano monastery at Bobbio and from
the Abbey of St. Julien Brioude (dated to the
end of the 4th century: Volbach 1952: no. 91,
pl. 28; 1961: 28, 327, pl. 84; Jesnick 1997: 84-5,