Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Artistic Ambitions: Charioteer and Lyre Player
Transcript
- Luna: So we've covered Nero's building projects and his wars... but what about his artistic side? I've heard he fancied himself a charioteer and a lyre player. Lucas: That's exactly where I wanted to go today. Nero's artistic ambitions were a huge part of his identity. He genuinely believed he was a gifted artist, and he craved public recognition as a performer. This was very unusual for a Roman emperor — the elite looked down on professional entertainers. Luna: So he wasn't just doing it as a hobby? He actually performed in public? Lucas: Oh absolutely. He made his stage debut as a lyre player in Naples in 64 AD. Naples was a Greek city, so he felt his philhellenic tastes would be appreciated there. Suetonius says the theater was shaken by an earthquake during his performance, but Nero kept singing until he finished his piece. Luna: An earthquake and he kept going? That's either dedicated or completely oblivious. Lucas: Probably both. But his real obsession was chariot racing. He wanted to compete in the Circus Maximus. Roman aristocrats did sponsor teams, but actually driving the chariot yourself was considered beneath your status. Nero didn't care. He started practicing in the Vatican valley, and in 59 AD he made his public debut as a charioteer. Luna: Wait, 59 AD — that's right after he had his mother killed, isn't it? Lucas: Exactly the same year. It was a bizarre juxtaposition. While Agrippina's body was being disposed of, Nero was celebrating his first chariot victory. But here's where it gets even stranger — he wasn't just racing for fun. He went to Greece in 67 AD to compete in the Olympic Games, which had been traditionally restricted to freeborn Greeks. Nero had the rules bent so he could enter. Luna: How did that work? Did he actually win? Lucas: He entered a ten-horse chariot race — an unusual number, and it was notoriously hard to control. He actually fell from his chariot and didn't finish, but the judges still declared him the winner. They cited his 'perseverance' and said he would have won if he hadn't fallen. The Greek cities were so eager to please him that they also awarded him victory in every competition he entered, including acting and lyre playing. Luna: So it was all rigged. But the Roman elites must have been horrified. Lucas: Absolutely. Tacitus and Suetonius portray his performances as shameful. They describe how he surrounded himself with a claque of cheering fans called the Augustiani, who were trained to applaud in rhythmic patterns. They followed him everywhere. Nero even tried to perform on the public stage in Rome, but the senate was so opposed that he initially limited his appearances to the Iuvenalia games — private festivals for youth. Luna: The Augustiani — were those like a paid cheering squad? Lucas: More or less. They were young Roman knights, chosen for their physique and loyalty. They were trained to chant and applaud in a specific style, like a Greek chorus. Cassius Dio says they were also used as a kind of secret police, reporting anyone who didn't applaud enthusiastically enough. If you were caught sleeping during Nero's performances, you could be punished. Luna: That's terrifying. Imagine being forced to watch a bad concert or face exile. Lucas: And Nero's concerts could be long. He sometimes performed for hours, and no one was allowed to leave until he finished. Plutarch tells a story of a woman who gave birth during one of Nero's performances — the guards wouldn't let her leave. But for all the absurdity, Nero's artistic passion wasn't just vanity. He saw himself as a champion of Greek culture, a true philhellene. He even planned to cut a canal through the Isthmus of Corinth, like the one that's there today. Luna: Did that plan ever go anywhere? Lucas: No, the canal project was abandoned after his death, and it wasn't completed until the 19th century. But it shows the scale of his ambitions. He wanted to be remembered as a great artist and benefactor of the Greek world. Unfortunately for his legacy, his artistic pursuits were used by later historians to paint him as a frivolous tyrant. Luna: It's interesting — on the one hand, he's this brutal emperor, but on the other, he's desperately seeking applause. Lucas: It's a contradiction that makes him fascinating. And honestly, if today's episode gave you a new perspective on that, it's worth a coffee. If so, you can support the show at buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. Just a small gesture keeps us ad-free and independent. Luna: Yeah, it's the least we can do for the hours of research you put into these. Lucas: Well, I appreciate that. So back to Nero's performances — there's one more detail I love. He was so proud of his lyre playing that he claimed to have invented a new style of singing that combined tragic and epic elements. He called it the 'Neronian style'. Luna: Did anyone else think it was good, or was it just him? Lucas: Most Roman writers mocked it. But there's evidence that some Greeks genuinely appreciated his patronage. He gave huge tax breaks to the province of Achaia and granted freedom to the Greek cities. In return, they erected statues of him as a lyre player. So maybe it wasn't all disdain. Luna: So his artistic legacy is complicated — like everything else about him. Lucas: Exactly. And that's what makes studying Nero so rewarding. He defies easy labels. The mad tyrant and the artist emperor are the same person, and you can't understand one without the other.