There is evidence that, not long after the eruption of Vesuvius, people came to Pompeii and Herculaneum to retrieve treasures—owners and looters alike. Some Roman residents may have returned to recover possessions they had been forced to leave behind, while other individuals may have visited to take advantage of the disaster. Over time the buried cities in the volcano’s path faded from memory, but they were not forgotten. More than 1,400 years later, with the aid of ancient texts and a medieval copy of a lost, Late Roman map, Renaissance scholars were able to identify the geographical location of Herculaneum. But the first real contact with artifacts from the Vesuvian area began in the eighteenth century.
In 1707, after taking over from the Spanish, the Hapsburgs sent viceroys from Vienna to rule Naples. A few years later, in 1711, while digging a well for the Austrian Prince d’Elboeuf’s seaside property at Portici, workmen recovered striking marble statues of veiled and draped women. The discovery prompted further exploration of the area; unknown and unrecognized by the prince, his well was positioned over the lavishly decorated façade of Herculaneum’s theater. The statues were sent to d’Elboeuf’s cousin Prince Eugene of Savoy in Vienna, and a few years later sold to Augustus III, king of Poland and elector of Saxony. Such artifacts were not solely appreciated for their aesthetic importance: to European royalty, antiquities were trophies of political power.
The Austrians were unseated in 1734, and Naples and Sicily became an independent kingdom ruled by the Spanish Bourbon dynasty. King Charles III (1716–1788) was keen to expand his private collection of ancient art and ensure control of those prestige finds, so he initiated a series of excavations. The earlier practice of randomly probing the ground hoping to find treasure gave way to a more organized approach during this period in digs led by the mining engineer Roque Joaquín de Alcubierre (1702–1780). In 1738 Charles III initiated an excavation in Portici, right next to d’Elboeuf’s estate, where Alcubierre’s technique involved digging vertical shafts that could then be tunneled horizontally following the course of ancient walls and building foundations. It was a successful approach insofar as it allowed for the effective removal of artifacts, but even contemporary observers were critical of how poorly the excavations were conducted; indeed, workers labored in dangerous conditions with inadequate light and air, and they broke through rooms damaging anything in their path, hacked paintings of their brick underlayer, and pulverized frescoes deemed inadequate for inclusion in the Royal collection. Ten years later, in 1748, digging at Pompeii began as well. Charles III hoarded his finds at the Real Museo Borbonico (the Royal Bourbon Museum, now part of the National Archaeological Museum of Naples).
The engineer Alcubierre moved to Naples in 1750, leaving his assistant, the architect and engineer Karl Jakob Weber (1712–1764), in charge of excavations in the region. Instead of digging like miners tunneling for gems or ore, Weber took a more systematic approach that was much closer to our present-day concept of archaeological excavation: he documented the dates of discovery and locations of each find, prepared meticulous plans of buildings, and sketched some artifacts while they were still in the ground to better record their exact locations.
Among the early Bourbon excavators of Pompeii and Herculaneum, Weber was an outlier: his interest in the context of finds was the opposite of those concerned only with the valuable artifacts themselves. His attitude and procedure marked a shift in the study of antiquity from a self-aggrandizing cultural and political pursuit to a scientific investigation. In addition, new techniques and specialized tools were developed in tandem with archaeology’s new purpose.
Despite the development of archaeology into a science and the professionalization of the field, well into the nineteenth century excavations at Pompeii were sometimes conducted using forced labor or prisoners, especially for the more physically grueling tasks. In this photo, a uniformed overseer with a cane on the left supervises a group of men in ragged clothing carrying apparently heavy baskets of dirt in the foreground, while three men, perhaps two archaeologists or tourists accompanied by a servant, observe the scene from afar. Some commentators have observed that even as time passed, distance remained between those who oversaw excavations and studied artifacts and the people who dug the site.
After traveling to Pompeii in 1787, forty years after the city’s rediscovery, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (1749–1832) described his impression: “There have been many disasters in this world, but few have given so much delight to later generations.” The German writer, poet, and scientist was one of the many visitors to Naples from countries across Europe, and those who traveled to the Vesuvian cities—a frequent stop on the aristocratic, educational Grand Tour—often came away with a taste for Neoclassical style inspired in no small way by the discoveries of Pompeii and Herculaneum. The direct experience of the site, as well as the souvenirs brought home from those trips, helped expand interest in the art of antiquity.
The Grand Tour was a costly, multiyear undertaking reserved primarily for men from the privileged class. In an era before mass travel, publications provided access to the discoveries from the Bay of Naples, albeit indirectly, to a wider audience. Published travelogues and visitor reports by intellectuals like Goethe, and especially by the art historian Johann Joachim Winckelmann (1717–1768), helped spread further information about the excavation and archaeological discoveries.
Illustrated publications representing artworks also exerted a particularly strong influence on the reception of Pompeian finds within European culture. Charles III was keen to control access to his collection in every respect and refused to allow objects to be copied: he wanted the publication of his trove to take place under his auspices. Indeed, he did arrange for its limited circulation: the eight volumes of Le antichità di Ercolano esposte (Antiquities of Herculaneum Exposed), published between 1757 and 1792, included elegant engravings representing artifacts from Herculaneum, Pompeii, and Stabiae.
Further restricting access to the Bourbon king’s antiquities, members of the royal household gifted the books only to high-ranking dignitaries, and the few copies sold were priced at an exorbitantly high cost.
Nonetheless, foreign scholars undertook their own unauthorized publications of the jealously guarded antiquities collection. With the illustrations redrawn and reengraved, these unsanctioned and more affordable editions appeared in smaller formats, occasionally abridged. Some contemporary scholars suggest that the successful dissemination of images from Pompeii and Herculaneum was as much due to unauthorized publications, such as Voyage pittoresque (1781–86) and Peintures d’Herculanum (1776), as to the official original; with plates frequently based on Le antichità di Ercolano esposte, these pirated volumes often gave ancient works a more interesting appearance than the original book. Indeed, one early publication of the frescoes, Pompéi: Choix de monuments inédits and Maison du Poëte Tragique (ca. 1828), included hand-colored engravings. Even if the printed presentation was a copy of an already tightly controlled visual interpretation of an original artifact, the wide circulation of images from such publications kindled an interest in the growing Neoclassical fashion.
The works encountered at Pompeii and Herculaneum—either in person or in published form—inspired imitation in the arts and décor of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. The German architect and painter Karl Friedrich Schinkel (1781–1841), famous for palaces, churches, and theaters, especially around Berlin, visited Pompeii twice; his exteriors are notably influenced by Greek architecture, but some of his interiors directly reference Roman frescoes.
Paintings in Schinkel’s Schloss Charlottenhof at Potsdam, for example, feature the so-called Pompeian dancers, an example of one of the most frequently reproduced subjects from wall painting at the time. The dancers also appeared on a porcelain dinner set made at Capodimonte, but in this case, the design was derived from engravings in Le antichità di Ercolano esposte rather than a direct encounter with the frescoes themselves.
The dinner service helped broaden the visual repertoire of images from Pompeii, and other European porcelain manufactures, including Wedgwood in England, created ceramics with a similar Pompeian dancer motif.
The reception of images from Pompeii and Herculaneum—over time and in different contexts—gradually moved beyond royal control and the emergent disciplines of archaeology and art history to become a source of creative inspiration for artists and artisans. Just as the Romans borrowed stories and compositional schemata from the Greek tradition and adapted them to suit their tastes, so too did later generations take ancient images and refashion them according to the imaginative needs of their own era.
Since its rediscovery in the eighteenth century, Pompeii has remained an active site of archaeological research. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century archaeologists built upon the scientific foundations established by Karl Jakob Weber’s systematic attention to the context of finds as much as to the artifacts themselves. An important development in this respect was led by the Italian archaeologist Giuseppe Fiorelli (1823–1896). After he became the project director at Pompeii, Fiorelli introduced several new techniques that helped preserve everything excavators encountered; his contributions include a system for creating plaster casts of the cavities where long-decomposed human remains had been buried in ash.
While these plaster casts are now iconic images in the collective popular imagination of Vesuvius’s destructive force, Fiorelli’s most significant innovation for archaeologists and researchers was his numbered address system: each district in Pompeii was assigned a region number, each block within a district was given an “insula” number, and every doorway was identified by its own address. The system allowed for a much clearer description of properties in Pompeii than had been possible, and it remains the standard scholarly nomenclature to this day.
The scale of research at Pompeii has increased substantially since Fiorellei’s era, and now new digital tools—both in the field and from a distance—are currently applied to research of the site. NYU’s Institute for the Study of the Ancient World (ISAW) is collaborating with scholars at the University of Massachusetts Amherst to use new digital technologies in a research project designed for twenty-first-century scholars. The Pompeii Artistic Landscape Project, generously funded by the Getty Foundation’s Digital Art History Initiatives, is being developed to present archaeological and art-historical data from Pompeii in a unified digital format. The resource will enable results representing hundreds of years of fieldwork to be searched, mapped, and displayed in an integrated environment.
Prof. Sebastian Heath (ISAW) and Prof. Eric Poehler (University of Massachusetts Amherst) are focused on the architectural and urban contexts of wall paintings: the project will allow for the site-wide discovery of painted motifs and subjects through searches that integrate the architectural setting with the relation that rooms and buildings have to their neighbors, to the streets, and to the city as a whole. This new way of experiencing the archaeology of Pompeii—in the spirit of both Weber’s interest in contexts and Fiorelli’s precise information architecture—will enable new perspectives, insights, and questions about an ancient site. Unlike the eighteenth-century Bourbon king who jealously guarded access to his collection and sharply restricted the circulation of publications, the Pompeii Artistic Landscape Project is not paywalled and will allow for reuse of open-licensed and standards-based data.
The Pompeii Artistic Landscape Project is currently under development, and visitors are welcome to view the work-in-progress here.