Hopkins’s ambitious study explores Rome’s visual culture from 650 to 250 BC. Moving beyond a unified Roman focus, the book unravels the intricate web of anonymous artisans, transregional exchanges, and hybrid traditions that defined early Rome’s art and architecture.
Building on their earlier book, where they argued that Roman architecture was not a purely local phenomenon but one deeply influenced by cross-cultural interactions,[1] Hopkins expands their focus here to an even more ambitious temporal and material scope. Spanning four formative centuries in the first millennium BC, their study moves seamlessly between everyday objects, such as impasto pottery, and high-end luxury artifacts, crafting a nuanced narrative that foregrounds the diverse craft traditions and cultural dialogues underpinning Roman material culture. By emphasizing makers, materials, and the sociocultural practices embedded in craft production, Hopkins positions their work as an essential counterpoint to the traditional sociopolitical and canonical frameworks dominating the field.[2]
Hopkins frames their investigation as a deliberate effort to “unbind” material culture from Rome from the dominant narrative of a Roman identity, revealing instead a complex network of influences, practices, and exchanges. By foregrounding a “fluid landscape” of cultural, social, and material interactions, they shift the focus from Rome as an isolated center of innovation to Rome as a melting pot of different people and practices. At the heart of this exploration is Hopkins’s meticulous analysis of the interplay between “art” and “craft.” Rather than considering these categories within questions of art historical canons or periodization, they emphasize their interconnectedness, examining the processes and skills involved in crafting human-made objects. Drawing on post-processual theories, particularly the works of Ian Hodder and Alfred Gell, Hopkins effectively integrates concepts such as “agency” and “entanglement” to articulate the reciprocal relationships between people, objects, and their environments.[3]
The book’s methodological foundation is established in its opening chapter, which takes readers into the Tombs of the Scipios in Rome. Hopkins uses the sarcophagus of Lucius Cornelius Scipio Barbatus (c. 280 BC) as a microcosm of their broader argument. Traditionally celebrated as a hallmark of early Roman art, the sarcophagus is reexamined here as a hybrid object, also shaped by southern Italic-Sicilian and Macedonian artistic traditions. Through a detailed exploration of the materials, craftsmanship, and cultural influences behind its creation, Hopkins sets the stage for their interdisciplinary approach, weaving together archaeology, art history, anthropology, and social theory.
Chapter 1 delves into the makers—the laborers, artisans, and technicians responsible for monumental structures and objects. They begin with simple sixth-century impasto vessels before moving to the construction of the Temple of Jupiter on the Capitoline Hill (c. 550-500 BC). The temple, demanding an unprecedented scale of materials and labor in the western Mediterranean, serves as a key case study. Moving beyond the historical sources that fixate on figures like the Etruscan artist Vulca of Veii, Hopkins centers the often-overlooked artisans and their communities, reconstructing their actions, knowledge, and collaborations. In doing so, they highlight the role of these anonymous makers not only in the temple’s creation but within the broader Roman community.
In Chapter 2, Hopkins shifts to materials, specifically terracotta and stone—the two best-documented building materials in early Rome. Starting from the seventh century BC, terracotta elements (tiles, antefixes, acroteria) offer a valuable record of architectural practices and building communities. By drawing on recent scientific and stylistic studies of Roman terracottas, Hopkins reveals the diversity of production techniques and the mobility of artisans. For example, studies of roof tiles and a gorgon antefix, possible from the same sixth-century BC structure near the Comitium area, suggest local clay sourced from Velabrum, while stylistic parallels link the antefix to others from Cumae and Pithecusae (p. 39–40).
Chapter 3 investigates the fluidity of meaning and material presence over time, illustrating how objects and spaces—ostensibly tied to Rome—were shaped, redefined, and multiplied through their interactions with broader networks and shifting contexts. The chapter opens with a quote from Cato the Elder: Et antefixa fictilia deorum Romanorum ridentes (Liv. 34.4.4). These terracotta antefixes, often adorned with female heads, decorated the roofs of buildings across Rome from the sixth to the third centuries BC. For Cato, these antefixes—crafted long before his time—embodied Roman identity, even capturing the presence of Roman gods. Hopkins, however, devotes the first half of the chapter to challenging this perspective. They demonstrates that the antefixes were far from uniquely Roman; rather, they were the creations of itinerant artisans who worked across diverse cult sites, crafting sacred forms in a highly mobile and interconnected community. Hopkins concludes by analyzing the rich array of votive deposits found in Rome, highlighting their mix of local materials and objects originating from as far afield as Anatolia, Egypt, and central Europe.
Chapter 4 delves into a detailed analysis of the Ficoroni Cista, a bronze masterpiece dating to ca. 350–300 BCE, currently housed in Rome’s National Etruscan Museum at the Villa Giulia. The cista, adorned with engravings of the Argonauts—specifically the episode where Pollux humiliates King Amykos—is widely celebrated as a pinnacle of ancient Italian craftsmanship. Much like the Temple of Jupiter and the votive deposits discussed in earlier chapters, the Ficoroni Cista occupies a liminal space: it is simultaneously Roman and non-Roman in terms of its production and function. Its components and creators originated both within and beyond Rome’s sociopolitical sphere, and, after its fabrication, the cista itself traveled to serve purposes outside the city. The inscription on the handle attributes its creation to Rome, yet the cista’s bronze workmanship and typology align more closely with Praenestine traditions. The motif and construction of its feet suggest connections to Etruscan mirrors, reflecting a broader shared Etruscan koine, while the engraved drum portrays Greek mythological narratives. This convergence of cultural influences underscores the cista‘s hybrid identity, illustrating the dynamic interplay of local and external traditions in shaping its artistic and functional dimensions.
Chapter 5 expands upon the themes of makers, materials, time, and objects introduced in earlier chapters to explore the concept of “copresence”—the simultaneous coexistence of multiple cultural, social, and material influences within sacred spaces. Hopkins examines the terracottas from temples on the Capitoline and Palatine Hills and at Antemnae, situating them within the broader context of interstate and intercommunity exchanges. These naturalistic terracottas, often overlooked as mere architectural elements, become vehicles for understanding how sacred sites functioned as hubs of sociopolitical negotiation and cultural synthesis. The chapter further delves into the significance of third-century BC anatomical votives, which offer a tangible representation of the interplay between belief systems and the human body.
Throughout the chapters, Hopkins employs a flexible chaîne opératoire approach, tracing the stages of an object’s or structure’s production from raw material acquisition to the finished product—and sometimes even its extended life. This method does more than reconstruct the technical processes; it provides a window into the cultural, economic, and social dynamics of production and use. By foregrounding the agency and lived experiences of early artisans, Hopkins offers a more humanized view of the Roman past, one that integrates the physical labor and creative expertise of these largely anonymous figures into the narrative of Rome’s development.
Chapter 6 serves as the concluding and synthesizing chapter of the book, encapsulating its core themes effectively, as reflected in the following quote: “The fabrication of sacred precincts can see examination for the many worlds and peoples they touch, the ongoing engagement between builders and roofers, stonemasons and terracotta specialists, who operated not only in an ebb and flow across the seventh or sixth or fifth century, and not only in a special Tiber community in the forth and third centuries, but in multiple overlapping networks and traditions, recognizable still in the third and second centuries across the peninsula, reshaping sacred practices often despite or alongside, rather than because of, political or otherwise elite desires.” (p. 196).
Hopkins moves beyond the traditional Roman art lens that emphasizes elite agency and centralized power. Instead, they positions structures and objects within a complex, interconnected network of diverse peoples, practices, and traditions. This approach underscores the multifaceted dynamics of this period, shaped by trade, migration, and conquest, which collectively influenced artistic and craft production. By reframing Rome as an active participant in expansive cultural exchanges—rather than as an isolated innovator— Hopkins aligns with contemporary scholarship that challenges the entrenched Rome-centric narrative.[4]
One of Hopkins’s key objectives is to disrupt the traditional image of early Rome defined primarily by elite production and a reliance on textual sources. They aim to center the often-overlooked figures—the artisans, craft communities, and laborers—who were instrumental in shaping Roman material culture. However, this ambition is not fully realized, as the book’s focus remains largely on elite artifacts and monumental structures. Everyday or sub-elite objects receive comparatively little attention, with exceptions like the red impasto ollaes serving as brief nods to non-elite material culture.
The book itself is a visual and tactile delight, bound in an elegant light blue hardcover featuring a detail from the Ficoroni Cista, which Hopkins examines in depth in chapter 4. High-quality photographs punctuate the text, offering readers a more intimate engagement with the artifacts. These images not only enhance the reading experience but also underscore Hopkins’s mission to emphasize the agency of the objects.
While the book’s abstract and conceptually dense language may present challenges for non-academic readers, Hopkins’s innovative approach and meticulous case studies of well-known artifacts and structures, such as the Ficoroni Cista and the Temple of Capitoline Jupiter, are likely to be celebrated within the field. However, certain points and case studies tend to resurface across chapters, sometimes leading to a sense of repetition. While this does reinforce key arguments, it can occasionally feel like missed opportunities to explore additional dimensions of early Roman material culture.
Unbound from Rome: Art and Craft in a Fluid Landscape is a groundbreaking and meticulously constructed study that transforms our understanding of early Roman material culture. Hopkins expertly integrates interdisciplinary methodologies, detailed case studies, and theoretical frameworks, producing a work that is both intellectually rigorous and richly anchored in material evidence. By foregrounding the often-overlooked artisans and craft communities who shaped Rome’s material and cultural landscape, Hopkins delivers fresh perspectives that solidify this book as a vital contribution to the field.
Notes
[1] Hopkins, J. N. 2016. The Genesis of Roman Architecture, Yale.
[2] Such as Brendel, O. J. 1979. Prolegomena: To the Study of Roman Art, Yale; Bandinelli, R. B. 1969. Roma: L’arte Romana nel centro del potere, Milano; Hölscher, T. 1987. Römische Bildsprache als semantisches System, Heidelberg; Zanker, P. 2010. Roman Art, Los Angeles.
[3] Gell, A. 1998. Art and Agency: An Anthropological Theory, Oxford; Hodder, I. 2012. Entangled: An Archaeology of the Relationships between Humans and Things, Malden.
[4] See for example Farney, G. D. and G. Bradley. 2017. The Peoples of Ancient Italy, Berlin; Cifani, G. 2020. The Origins of the Roman Economy: From the Iron Age to the Early Republic in a Mediterranean Perspective, Cambridge; Bernard, S. 2023. Historical Culture in Iron Age Italy: Archaeology, History, and the Use of the Past, 900-300 BCE, Oxford; Maiuro, M. 2024. The Oxford Handbook of Pre-Roman Italy (1000-49 BCE), Oxford.