Latest / The History of Greece: Philosophy, Empire, and Endless Reinvention — Fexingo History / Temple of Apollo Bassae: Greece's Forgotten Masterpiece
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, I want to take you to a place that almost nobody visits, even though it's one of the best-preserved temples in Greece. It sits on a remote ridge in Arcadia, ancient Arcadia, the mountainous heart of the Peloponnese, about fourteen hundred feet up. It's the Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassae. Luna: I've never even heard of Bassae. Why would they build a massive temple way up there? Lucas: That's exactly the question that's haunted archaeologists. It was built by the people of a small city-state called Phigaleia, and they dedicated it to Apollo Epicurius — 'Apollo the Helper' — because they believed he'd saved them from a plague, probably around 430 BC, right when the plague was devastating Athens. But the location is bizarre: it's not near any major settlement, it's not on a trade route, it's just... there, on a windswept mountain. Luna: So it was kind of a thank-offering, then? A way of saying thanks for saving them from disease? Lucas: Exactly. And they went all out. They hired Ictinus — one of the architects of the Parthenon — to design it. And he did something really unusual. The temple faces north-south, not east-west like almost every other Greek temple. And it has a side door on the east side, which scholars think might have been aligned with the rising sun so that a statue of Apollo inside would be lit up at a certain time of year. Luna: Wait, that sounds almost astronomical. Did they do that intentionally? Lucas: Probably. The Greeks were very into solar alignments. But here's the wild part: inside the temple, they built the very first Corinthian column — the one with the acanthus leaves at the top. It's the earliest known example of that order, and it was placed alone in the center of the cella, almost as a kind of exclamation point. Ictinus was experimenting. Luna: So this temple is where the Corinthian column was born? That's huge. I always thought it came from the later Hellenistic period. Lucas: That's the conventional view, but Bassae pushes it back to the late 5th century. The column is now gone — it was removed in the 19th century by an archaeologist named Otto von Stackelberg — but we have drawings and descriptions. And the temple also had a stunning set of sculpted metopes: marble panels showing Greeks fighting centaurs and the battle of Greeks and Amazons. Twenty-three of them survived, and they're now in the British Museum. Luna: Of course they are. But at least they were preserved, right? The temple itself was almost lost. Lucas: Completely. After antiquity, it was basically forgotten. In 1765, a French architect named Joachim Bocher was traveling through the Peloponnese and stumbled on it. He was so excited he started drawing, but locals thought he was a spy or a treasure hunter and chased him off. He barely escaped with his life. Then he died a few years later, and his notes were lost. It wasn't until 1811 that another team of explorers properly identified it. Luna: So the temple was basically hiding in plain sight for centuries. And then the sculptures ended up in London. But what about the building itself? Did it survive? Lucas: It's actually incredibly well-preserved. The cella walls are still standing, many of the columns are upright, and the roof is gone but the floor plan is intact. In the 20th century, the Greek government started a major conservation project because the temple was in danger of collapsing — the limestone was weathering badly. They put up a huge canopy to protect it, and they've been doing painstaking restoration ever since. Luna: It sounds like a lost world. And it's a UNESCO World Heritage site now, isn't it? Lucas: It is. But it's still one of the least visited. Most tourists go to Olympia or Delphi, which are amazing, but Bassae is off the beaten path. And that's part of its magic. You stand there on that ridge, with the wind blowing, and you realize you're seeing something that very few people have ever seen — a temple that was built as a gesture of gratitude, by a small city, with the help of one of the greatest architects of the age. Luna: You know, it's funny — we talk so much about Athens and Sparta, but there were dozens of other Greek city-states, each with their own stories. And a place like Phigaleia, which is almost completely forgotten, built something that outlasted them. Lucas: Absolutely. And that's one of the reasons we do this show — to pull those stories out of the shadows. It takes a lot of digging, but it's worth it. And honestly, one of the things that makes it possible is that a small group of listeners chips in monthly through Buy Me a Coffee. It's not a big thing — just a coffee's worth — but it literally funds the research time and the hosting costs. That's it. No ads, no sponsors, just people who want these stories to be told. Luna: Yeah, I think that's part of why this show feels different. It's not trying to sell you anything. It's just two people who love history, sharing what they find. Lucas: Exactly. And if you ever want to be part of that, it's Buy Me a Coffee dot com slash fexingo — all one word. No pressure, no obligation. Just a way to keep the conversations going. Anyway, back to Bassae: one of the most fascinating things about the temple is what Pausanias, the ancient travel writer, said about it. He visited in the 2nd century AD and called it 'the most beautiful temple in the Peloponnese.' But that's almost all he said. He gave almost no details about the architecture or the sculptures. It's maddening. Luna: Why would he do that? He usually describes everything in detail. Lucas: We don't know. Maybe he was in a hurry. Maybe he assumed his readers already knew it. But because of that, we have to rely on the archaeological evidence. And there's a big debate about the temple's orientation. Some scholars think the north-south axis was because of the terrain — the ridge is narrow — but others argue it was deliberate, maybe to align with a nearby peak or a celestial event. Luna: So the mystery is part of the appeal. You can't just read about it in Pausanias and get the full picture. Lucas: Right. And the sculptures are another mystery. The metopes show these violent battles — Greeks versus centaurs and Amazons — but in a temple dedicated to a healing god. Why? Some say they're allegories for the triumph of civilization over chaos, or of order over disease. The plague that Apollo saved them from was chaos, and these myths were a way of representing that victory. Luna: So the temple is not just a thank-you note, it's also a piece of propaganda. 'We beat the plague, and here's proof.' Lucas: Exactly. And it worked. The temple was famous in antiquity. Pausanias made a point of visiting it. But after the fall of the Roman Empire, it faded. The region became depopulated, the forest grew back, and the temple slowly crumbled. By the 18th century, it was essentially a ruin in the middle of nowhere. Luna: Until Bocher stumbled on it. That story about him being chased off is incredible. It's like something out of an adventure novel. Lucas: It really is. And then, after his death, the temple was 'rediscovered' again by a team including the British architect Charles Robert Cockerell. They excavated the metopes and shipped them to the British Museum. And that's where they've been ever since. There's been a campaign to return them to Greece, but so far, they've stayed in London. Luna: That's a whole other conversation. But at least the temple itself is still in Greece, and they're conserving it. Lucas: Yes. The conservation project has been going on for decades. They've been dismantling and reassembling parts of the temple, using original materials where possible. It's incredibly painstaking work. And because it's so remote, the site has a kind of peace that you don't get at the more famous temples. You can stand there and imagine what it was like for the Phigaleians, making that pilgrimage up the mountain to thank their god. Luna: I want to go. I want to see that single Corinthian column — even if it's a replica now. Lucas: There is a replica, actually. The original was taken to the British Museum too, but the Greek authorities put a copy in its place. So you can stand exactly where Ictinus put the first Corinthian column. And you can see the temple the way it was meant to be seen — in that wild, windswept landscape. Luna: It's amazing how one small city-state could commission a masterpiece. They must have been really wealthy, or really determined. Lucas: Probably both. Phigaleia was small, but it controlled some fertile valleys and had access to the sea. They could afford to hire Ictinus. And they were determined to show their gratitude in a way that would last. And it has lasted. Twenty-five hundred years later, we're still talking about it. Luna: And that's the thing about history, isn't it? The things people build to say thank you can outlast empires. Lucas: Exactly. And that's what we try to capture here — those moments of gratitude, of ambition, of genius, that echo through the centuries. Thanks for coming along to Bassae with me.