It appears that, just as the forms and proportions
of a building and of all its details were determined
by precedent, yet not so absolutely as to leave no
scope for the exercise of individual genius, so there
was an established system in the coloring of a building,
yet a system which varied somewhat according to time
and place and the taste of the architect. The
frontispiece attempts to suggest what the coloring
of the Parthenon was like, and thus to illustrate the
general scheme of Doric polychromy. The colors
used were chiefly dark blue, sometimes almost black,
and red; green and yellow also occur, and some details
were gilded. The coloration of the building was
far from total. Plain surfaces, as walls, were
unpainted. So too were the columns, including,
probably, their capitals, except between the annulets.
Thus color was confined to the upper members—the
triglyphs, the under surface (soffit) of the cornice,
the sima, the anta-capitals (cf. Fig. 54), the
ornamental details generally, the coffers of the ceiling,
and the backgrounds of sculpture. [Footnote:
Our frontispiece gives the backgrounds of the metopes
as plain, but this is probably an error] The triglyphs,
regulae, and mutules were blue; the taenia of the
architrave and the soffit of the cornice between the
mutules with the adjacent narrow bands were red; the
backgrounds of sculpture, either blue or red; the
hawk’s-beak molding, alternating blue and red;
and so on. The principal uncertainty regards
the treatment of the unpainted members. Were these
left of a glittering white, or were they toned down,
in the case of marble buildings, by some application
or other, so as to contrast less glaringly with the
painted portions? The latter supposition receives
some confirmation from Vitruvius, a Roman writer on
architecture of the age of Augustus, and seems to some
modern writers to be demanded by aesthetic considerations.
On the other hand, the evidence of the Olympia buildings
points the other way. Perhaps the actual practice
varied. As for the coloring of Ionic architecture,
we know that the capital of the column was painted,
but otherwise our information is very scanty.
If it be asked what led the Greeks to a use of color
so strange to us and, on first acquaintance, so little
to our taste, it may be answered that possibly the
example of their neighbors had something to do with
it. The architecture of Egypt, of Mesopotamia,
of Persia, was polychromatic. But probably the
practice of the Greeks was in the main an inheritance
from the early days of their own civilization.
According to a well-supported theory, the Doric temple
of the historical period is a translation into stone
or marble of a primitive edifice whose walls were
of sun-dried bricks and whose columns and entablature
were of wood. Now it is natural and appropriate
to paint wood; and we may suppose that the taste for
a partially colored architecture was thus formed.
This theory does not indeed explain everything.
It does not, for example, explain why the columns or
the architrave should be uncolored. In short,
the Greek system of polychromy presents itself to
us as a largely arbitrary system.