The Daochos Monument was a massive rectangular foundation with nine statues northeast of Delphi’s Temple of Apollo terrace. Under each of the statues, barring one figure on the far right, there was an epigram describing the individual portrayed and listing their achievements. The monument was dedicated by Daochos of Pharsalos. Daochos was the deputy from Thessaly to the Amphictyonic Council from around 337 to 333 BC. He likely built this monument during his time at Delphi. The inscriptions also provide the location and kinship of the figures depicted. For example, Daochos II (to differentiate him from his grandfather of the same name, who was also portrayed) stood second from the left end of the base. Next to him stood the statue of his son, Sisyphos II.

Soon after the study of the inscriptions of the Daochos Monument was published in 1897, an interest in the study of the sculptor Lysippos was renewed. The inscription on a statue base found at Pharsalos was discovered to be identical to a somewhat shorter epigram of Agias at Delphi, and the name Lysippos, presumably the statue’s sculptor, was written at the bottom of the Pharsalos inscription. When the statue of Agias at Delphi was reunited with its base, it became clear that the figure in Delphi was likely a replica of the one in Pharsalos. Like most of Lysippos’ works, the original statue was probably cast in bronze and predate the Delphi statue, although only by a few years. The research also reveals that the statues at Delphi were probably certainly sculpted by more than one artist, indicating a diversity of aesthetic influences at work. But Lysippos’ name was definitely recognizable.

One of the Three Best Sculptors in the 4^th Century Greece

Lysippos was known as one of the three best Classical Greek sculptors of the 4th century BC. He, along with sculptors Scopas of Paros and Praxiteles of Athens, were instrumental in ushering in the Hellenistic period’s artistic revolution. As a sculptor, Scopas of Paros was most known for his statue of the Greek Hero Meleager, host of the Calydonian boar hunt. He was also known for his copper statue of Aphrodite and his rendition of the head of Hygieia, the Ancient Greek goddess of health, cleanliness, and hygiene. Apart from his supposed relationship with his model, the courtesan Phryne, Praxiteles of Athens was known as the first to sculpt the nude female form in a life-size statue. Lysippos himself was a self-taught sculptor who produced more than 1,500 bronze statues. He is well-known for his massive bronze statues of Zeus, which stood 17 meters tall. This statue, which ancient Greek geographer Pausanias describes as standing in the marketplace at Sicyon in the 2nd century AD, exists in miniature on a bronze coin from the reign of the 3rd-century Roman Emperor Caracalla.

Noting his productivity, many copies of Lysippos’ work survived. Therefore, finding and analyzing Lysippos’ original work have been challenging among the many surviving copies which would have been somewhat unreliable. The Apoxyomenos, a statue of a young male athlete scraping and washing his oil-covered skin, is the best and most reliable copy of Lysippos’ work that we know so far. It is comparable in style to the bronze Zeus statue which was definitely done by Lysippos. The original Apoxyomenos was moved to Rome during the reign of Emperor Tiberius (14-37 AD), where it was put in front of Agrippa’s bath. The Apoxyomenos in the Vatican are tall, thin, and gracefully proportioned, with a small head in proportion to the body. There is also a high level of detail, particularly with the hair and eyes. Another one of the more reliable copies was the Farnese Heracles, credited to an artist named Glycon as a copyist, but based on Lysippos’ large but exhausted and sorrowful Heracles at Sicyon. There are multiple copies of the Glycon copy, including one in Florence’s Pitti Palace, with an inscription identifying Lysippos as the artist.

The many surviving copies, unreliable and perhaps inconvenient as they may be to research, are also a testament to Lysippos’ fame as it indicates that he not only has a massive studio and numerous students but there appears to have been a demand for replicas of his work in his lifetime and subsequently in the Hellenistic and Roman periods, coming from beyond his circle.

Lysippos, Official Sculptor of Alexander the Great

Lysippos’ statues were known for their thin proportions and as their genuine naturalism. He studied nature and Polyclitus’ Doryphoros (“Spearbearer”) canon of ideal male proportions, which he modified by constructing a smaller head and slimmer torso. This raised the perceived height of his figures. Mainly active during the rule of Alexander the Great, Lysippos was already the head of the school in Argos and Sicyon during the reign of Alexander’s father, Philip II of Macedon.

It was Lysippos who sculpted Alexander the Great from the ruler’s childhood onward, and Alexander would not have any other sculptor portray him. Lysippos is credited with depicting a boyish yet godlike Alexander the Great, with messy hair and parted lips, looking upward in what became known as the “Lysippean stare.” Alexander the Great’s images follows a recognizable formula that includes a full head of hair, swept up over the forehead, deep-set eyes, full and slightly parted lips, a strong chin, and sturdy neck. The most notable of Lysippos’ rendition of Alexander is the Louvre’s Alexander’s herm (bust on a tapering pedestal) with an antique inscription attributed to Lysippos.

The herm in the Louvre has been a starting point for researching Alexander the Great’s portraits. It provides some visual cues as it retains several recurring aspects of Alexander’s iconography such as the abundant but very thin hair. Alexander is shown with his head kept straight and front-facing as required by the herm format, except for a little turn to the right – perhaps indicating a bit of his youth and rebellious tendencies.  Possibly dating from the third century BC, the herm is one of the earliest images known of Alexander the Great. Although the sculpture has been fractured through the neck, and the intended posture is unknown, the slant of the head seems to have been an inspiration for many statues that come after. The upward glance can also be seen in coin portraits, such as Lysimachos’ minting of Alexander wearing ram’s horns in 300 BC.  The most romanticized variations, such as the Alexander-Helios statue in Rome and Boston, have an especially significant tilt.  

Alexander’s Divine, Twisted Neck

Ancient writers also commented on Alexander’s head position. Plutarch is the first and most influential of these writers. He addressed Alexander’s physical appearance in Parallel Lives (Life of Alexander) and the Moralia (On the Fortune and Virtues of Alexander the Great). Most other texts are much later and came from a long tradition passed down over the centuries. Plutarch himself, who wrote four hundred years after Alexander’s death, relies on various sources including statute evidence. As a result, his interpretation is already a secondary or tertiary interpretation of literary and visual materials.

According to Plutarch, Lysippos was the only one who succeeded in casting Alexander’s distinguishing character and excellence in bronze. He describes Lysippos’ first portrait of Alexander as “looking upwards with his face to the sky, as he used to stare with a slight inclination of the neck” in the Moralia. The other artists tried and failed to keep his masculinity and leonine character, despite imitating his upward neck turn and moist eyes. In his history of Alexander, Plutarch emphasizes again that the king’s physical appearance is most visible in Lysippos’ statues. He also mentions Lysippos’ faithful rendering of Alexander’s traits that many of Alexander’s friends and followers later attempted to replicate, such as the inclination of the neck bent softly to the left. But, again, we do not know if Plutarch actually saw Lysippos’ statue of Alexander with the lance, a reproductions of this statue, or perhaps other figures in the style of Lysippos, or even whether he relied exclusively on earlier writers’ descriptions.

Plutarch also discusses Alexander’s neck flex as a trait worth copying. Many later kings and their subjects were represented afterward with slanted heads. Pyrrhos, king of Epeiros (295-272 BC), is mentioned for mimicking Alexander’s neck bending. Emperor Augustus was occasionally depicted with his head cocked, as in the marble portrait from La Alcudia on Mallorca. Hadrian was also shown with a tilt, as seen in a painting from his villa at Tivoli. Caracalla is also claimed to have had his neck inclined towards the left shoulder in effigy. A mannerism which he saw in Alexander’s body when he was visiting his tomb. Constantine the Great embraced the heavenward stare – without turning his head – and became inextricably linked with the Sun.

In addition to the head posture, ancient accounts also describe Alexander’s claimed physical features. He is said to have been less impressive than his companion Hephaestion, who was mistaken for Alexander on one occasion. It is also assumed that he was of small stature since his feet did not reach the footstool when he sat on King Darius the Great’s throne. Regarding his appearance, Alexander is depicted as having fair skin (although the word leukos might also mean a bright complexion) that tends to redden on the face and chest. Alexander’s lack of beard was another distinguishing feature and might have been viewed as less impressive in his time but, perhaps due to Lysippos’ depictions, this grooming style quickly grew popular and was chosen as the standard for the heroic ruler image during the Hellenistic period. It was not so much propaganda, perhaps, as it was reality. Unlike most kings in his time, Alexander ascended to the throne at the young age of 22. His youth would have meant that was either beardless or had a youthful, scant beard growth at the time. Thus, it was only logical for him to keep his beardless appearance once his public image had been crafted to symbolize the idea of quasi-divine eternal youth and highlight his personal power of being able to hold such a significant position while he was still a young man. Because he ruled after Phillip II and Phillip II was already very much an adult, bearded appearance would have been unacceptable for the official image of young Alexander, and a new image with new symbolism more suited to the young king had to be created. With this in mind, it is highly probable that this image was formed from several typical features with positive connotations and that they were utilized to represent his leonine and fearless personality. The lion’s mane denoted bravery, while a moist eye denoted a bold man. All of this was, according to the book, the pseudo-Aristotelean Physiognomonica.

Some images depict Alexander with sideburns, possibly to indicate that he had at least reached the age of light beard growth – young enough for his achievements to be impressive but not too young that he was not able to make responsible decisions. This version of images can be seen on the Alexander mosaic from Pompeii, around 100 BC, on later artworks such as the gold medallion from Aboukir from around 230 AD, and a sculpted tondo from Aphrodisias, from around 425 AD. The existence of sideburns in paintings of such disparate date and geographical origin suggests that this is a consistent feature – if not of the real Alexander, then of his representation.

The active, leonine qualities would have made a lot of sense for Alexander’s depictions. Because of the action, such as a lion hunt or a battle scenario, Alexander would have been depicted in an active position, with his head in three-quarter or full profile view, turned to the side or upwards to intimate action – which would have explained his twisted neck. A turn of the head, whether to the side or upwards, gives the figure a more dynamic appearance; nevertheless, when viewed out of context, as a fragment in a museum, the physiognomy is understandably disconnected.  

Sculptures from varied contexts, such as the pediments of Tegea’s Temple of Athena Alea, from approximately 350 BC, show vigorously rotated and tilted heads. Because the dynamic story dictates the position in the pediment sculptures, it can be understood as a deliberate and mannered attitude. The tilted head position is also found in some ivory heads from Tomb II at Vergina and other Macedonian tombs. However, because the bodies are gone, it is difficult to recreate the original compositions. Alexander’s exaggerated head posture can therefore be regarded in the light of fourth-century artistic tendencies as a pose designed to visualize his driven and dynamic nature.

This characteristic, however, could have a more specific iconographic origin. Alexander the Great’s public persona incorporated elements from various gods and heroes, including his role models Achilles and Herakles. These carefully crafted graphics could be tailored to the target audience. Relating to this, Lysippos’ statue of Zeus from Nemea, probably with an upturned head, could have been inspired by Alexander’s iconography. Helios was another important divine component relating to Alexander. Because preserved depictions of Alexander/Helios are difficult to date precisely, it is questionable whether Alexander’s iconography was affected by Helios or vice versa.

In 332, after Alexander conquered Egypt, he was automatically connected with the Sun as all pharaohs were viewed as sons of Ra. Alexander is also claimed to have sacrificed to Helios, the God who had granted him the countries of the east after he conquered the Indus Valley in 326. Golden sculptures of Alexander were allegedly erected in the Sun Sanctuary at Taxila, Pakistan. Later, highlighting this relationship, Demetrios of Phaleron was known as heliomorphos, Antigonos was known as “son of the sun,” and Demetrios Poliorketes was “the sun among the stars,” as were others of Alexander’s successors.

Despite all these relationships, in the Greek realm, one surviving image is persistent. A metope from the Temple of Athena at Ilion (Troy), constructed around or shortly after 300 BC, depicts the Sun god Helios in his chariot. Helios possesses clear Alexander-like traits, including a strong neck, an inclined head, deep-set eyes, thick brows, and full upswept hair. This image would have been easily interchangeable from Helios to Alexander or Alexander to Helios. This would have resulted in a kind of crypto portrait of Alexander. The idea that Alexander lent his traits to Helios is consistent with the king’s commitment to erect a new temple at Ilion, a project completed by his successor Lysimachos (305-282).

In Lysippos’ lost composition, Helios was initially represented on a quadriga. His chin is slightly cocked. The sunrise is in the east while the sunset is in the west. To depict this movement, Helios’ head is aggressively twisted, demanding a tilt. The Helios marble contains a reflection of the two famous bronze Helioi, that of Chares and that of Lysippos. So, did Lysippos’ Helios imitate Alexander’s neck position, or did Lysippos adopt the Sun-god’s head tilt towards the sky while generating the image of the heroic skyward gazing Alexander?

Was Alexander unwell?

In 1851, physician Amédée Dechambre presented a paper on Alexander the Great, in which he proposed that Alexander suffered from orthopedic torticollis. This was based partly on an inspection of a herm at the Louvre, which he thought was a duplicate of Lysippos’ Alexander with his Lance. Torticollis, or twisted neck, is a condition in which the sternocleidomastoid muscle on the affected side shortens, causing a tilt and contralateral rotation of the face and chin. This makes the head is angled laterally towards the shoulder, stiffening and twisting the neck. The person afflicted would have difficulty moving their head.  

His fascination with the possible medical condition of an old historical character seems to have been keeping with the fashion of the time as it corresponded to a similar fascination with effigies of Greek mythological figures in the mid to late nineteenth century. In 1886, anatomist Wilhelm Henke diagnosed Venus de Milo with a deformed spine. He theorized that she walked limply because her legs appeared uneven. However, this uneven appearance was actually because of a  wedge-shaped chunk of marble missing from her hip at the time and only later inserted.