Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero the Artist: Emperor as Citharoedus
Transcript
- Lucas: So we've talked a lot about Nero's politics, his building projects, his relationships—but there's this whole other side to him that's easy to forget. Nero wasn't just an emperor; he saw himself as a serious artist. A singer, a lyre player, a poet, even a charioteer. Luna: Wait, he actually performed in public? I thought that was just a smear by his enemies. Lucas: No, it's well-documented. Suetonius and Tacitus both describe Nero appearing on stage, singing and playing the cithara, which is like a lyre. He even competed in games. In fact, his first public performance was in Naples in 64 AD—he picked Naples because it was a Greek city and more receptive to artistic pursuits. The story goes that the theater shook during his performance, and then after he left, it collapsed. He considered it a good omen. Luna: That's quite a coincidence. So he really went for it, huh? Lucas: Absolutely. He trained his voice obsessively, had a special diet—no apples, no figs, nothing that might harm his vocal cords. He even forced senators and other elite Romans to attend his performances, and he had officers planted in the audience to applaud at the right moments. If someone didn't clap enthusiastically enough, they could be punished. Tacitus writes about this in his Annals, describing how people would feign rapture or even faint from fear. Nero also established a festival called the Neronia, modeled on Greek games, with competitions in music, poetry, and athletics. Luna: So he was basically trying to bring Greek culture to Rome, but forcing it on people? How did the elites react? Lucas: They were horrified. Performing on stage was considered beneath a Roman of any standing—it was associated with slaves, entertainers, and prostitutes. For the emperor to do it was seen as scandalous and degrading. The satirist Juvenal later wrote about 'the lyre of Nero' as a symbol of decadence. But Nero didn't care. He genuinely believed he was a great artist. In 66 AD he embarked on a grand tour of Greece, where he participated in all the major games—Olympic, Pythian, Isthmian, Nemean—and he won every single contest. Of course, it helped that the judges were terrified of him, but still. Luna: Did the Greeks appreciate it more than the Romans? Lucas: Yes, the Greeks loved him for it. He proclaimed the freedom of Greece at the Isthmian Games, which we covered in an earlier episode, and he showered them with gifts. In return, they erected statues of him as Apollo Citharoedus—Apollo the lyre player. Nero saw himself as Apollo incarnate. His coins often show him with the radiate crown of Apollo, and his giant statue in the Domus Aurea, the Colossus, was also designed with his features as the sun god. So his artistic persona was a key part of his imperial image. Luna: But didn't his poetry survive? I've heard almost nothing about it. Lucas: Hardly any. A few lines are quoted by Suetonius—they're pretty mediocre, actually. Much of his literary output was destroyed after his death. But we know he wrote poems and even considered writing an epic on the history of Rome. He was also a patron of poets like Lucan, though that relationship soured. His court included the satirist Petronius, the 'arbiter of elegance', who probably wrote the Satyricon. So he did foster a lively literary environment, even if his own work was forgettable. Luna: That makes me wonder—was his artistic drive a genuine passion, or just another way to assert power? Lucas: Probably both. He loved the applause and the adulation. But he also used his performances to connect with the common people in a way that other emperors didn't. Remember, the Roman crowd loved shows—chariot races, gladiators, theater. By performing himself, he was making a populist gesture. But for the senatorial class, it was an unforgivable breach of dignity. And it's worth noting that his obsession with art may have distracted him from governing. The fire of 64 AD happened while he was in Antium, and he rushed back, but there's that persistent rumor that he sang about the fall of Troy while Rome burned—which is almost certainly false, but it stuck because it fit his image as a frivolous artist. Luna: So his artistic reputation really damaged his legacy. Lucas: Massively. Later historians like Tacitus and Suetonius used his artistic pursuits to paint him as effeminate, un-Roman, and dissolute. It became a shorthand for his decadence. And it's interesting—other emperors loved Greek culture too. Hadrian was a huge philhellene, built the Temple of Venus and Roma, traveled through Greece, but he never performed on stage. That was the line Nero crossed. So his cultural legacy is complicated: on one hand, he promoted the arts and gave them imperial patronage; on the other, he made himself a spectacle and lost the respect of the elite. Lucas: Which brings me to something I've been meaning to mention. You know, this show exists because of a dedicated group of listeners who chip in monthly through buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo. We don't run ads—we just rely on that support to keep researching and producing these deep dives. So if you've been enjoying these conversations about Nero and others, that's where they come from. Luna: Yeah, and it's a small but passionate community that makes it possible. It's nice knowing the show is listener-funded, no corporate pressure. Lucas: Exactly. So back to Nero—after his Greek tour, he returned to Rome in 67 AD and celebrated a triumph, even though he hadn't won a military victory. He had Greek cities and Roman nobles process in his parade, and he wore an Olympic victor's crown. That was the final straw for many. Within a year, he was deposed and committed suicide. So in the end, his artistic ambitions contributed to his downfall. Luna: So would you call him a failed artist or a misunderstood patron? Lucas: I think he was both. His own art was mediocre, but he genuinely valued artistic achievement and tried to elevate it in Roman society. That legacy did have an impact—later Roman art and architecture, especially the Domus Aurea, influenced Renaissance artists. But his personal performance mania overshadowed it all. In a way, he's a cautionary tale about the dangers of mixing art and politics too closely. Luna: That's a good note to end on. Thanks, Lucas. Lucas: Thanks, Luna. And to everyone listening, keep exploring history with us.