Carpets of Stone

In the same sea hall, if you drop your gaze a little from the mighty gods, the “carpets” begin. Archaeologists sometimes reach for the term horror vacui—a fear of empty space. The Romans, evidently, could not abide a bare floor, and so filled it with the densest of patterns imaginable.

Here is what deserves a closer look, between sips of imaginary wine at our symposium:

• Geometry and Interlace: The sheer intricacy of these patterns would make a modern graphic designer green with envy. This is purely the work of Urania, turning the chaos of stone into strict mathematical order.
• The Bestiary: Amid the medallions and twisting vines lurk not only fish, but perfectly earthly beasts, and even birds. Artemis has evidently had a hand here—note how a living gaze is conjured from a mere few dozen tiny stones (tesserae).
• Scenes from Life: Small human figures amid the foliage are precisely those “useless things” that bring history to life. One gathers the harvest, another wrestles a beast, and a third simply strikes a pose at the centre of the composition.

These mosaics are interesting for the very reason that they do not shout of grandeur, but conjure comfort instead. Picture the villa’s owners walking this floor in sandals (or barefoot), trading the latest gossip from Rome, or debating the price of wheat in Carthage.