Latest / Nero: Mad Tyrant or Misunderstood Emperor? — Fexingo History / Nero's Cithara: Music vs. Madness Myth
Transcript
- Lucas: So, we've talked a lot about Nero's building projects, his foreign policy, even his obsession with Egypt. But there's one aspect of his personality that really defined how his contemporaries—and later historians—saw him: his passion for music. Luna: Oh, the famous cithara playing. Is that the big lyre thing? Lucas: Exactly. The cithara was a large, wooden lyre with a soundbox, played with a plectrum. It wasn't a casual hobby for Nero—it was a consuming passion. He trained relentlessly, took voice lessons, even followed strict diets to protect his voice. And here's the thing: for a Roman emperor, that was deeply inappropriate. Lucas: Roman aristocrats considered music a slave's profession. They might appreciate it at banquets, but to perform in public? Unthinkable. But Nero was a philhellene—he adored Greek culture, where musicians and poets were celebrated. So he pushed against Roman norms. Luna: And he didn't just play in private—he performed on stage, right? Lucas: Right. He founded the Neronia in 60 AD, a festival of music, gymnastics, and chariot racing modeled on the Greek games. And he personally competed as a citharode—that's a singer who accompanies himself on the cithara. The first Neronia went okay, but by the second one in 65 AD, the audience was forced to applaud on cue, and there were even rumors that he bribed judges. Lucas: But his most infamous musical moment came in 67 AD, during his tour of Greece. He entered the Pythian Games at Delphi, which were traditionally for lyre players. And he won—of course he won—but the story goes that he was so nervous he broke a string mid-performance, but still got the crown. Luna: Wait, he broke a string? That must have been mortifying for him. Lucas: According to Suetonius, he was absolutely terrified. But the judges gave him the prize anyway, probably because they knew what would happen if they didn't. And then he went on to win every other competition he entered—chariot racing, acting, you name it. He even had a special rule made so that chariot racers with ten teams could win even if they didn't finish first. Lucas: Now, this is where the 'mad tyrant' image really takes hold. The idea that an emperor would debase himself by performing on stage was scandalous to Roman writers like Tacitus and Suetonius. But here's a different way to look at it: Nero was trying to bring Greek artistic culture to Rome, to create a new kind of imperial image—the artist-emperor. Luna: So was he actually a good musician, or was it all just ego? Lucas: We can't really know. No musical scores survive, and the sources are all hostile. But some details suggest he had genuine skill. He took lessons from the famous citharode Terpnus, and he practiced daily. He also composed poetry—there's a fragment of a poem about the Trojan War, the 'Troica', that may be his. But the propaganda machine after his death painted him as a deluded amateur. Lucas: There's a famous line he supposedly said before his death: 'Qualis artifex pereo'—'What an artist dies in me.' That quote, from Suetonius, has become the defining image of Nero: the artist who cared more about his art than his empire. But it might be a invention, a way to mock him. Luna: Interesting. So the music wasn't just a quirk—it was central to his identity. Lucas: Absolutely. And it had political consequences. His performances alienated the Senate and the old aristocracy, who saw it as beneath the dignity of a princeps. It also gave his enemies ammunition—they could say he was neglecting his duties. But among the common people, especially in the Greek East, his musical pursuits might have actually been popular. Lucas: Think about it: an emperor who sings and plays in public, who competes in games, who celebrates Greek culture—that's a very different image from the stern, distant Augustus. Nero was trying to connect with his subjects on a personal level, even if it was through performance. Luna: So the 'madman' label might be partly a reaction to his unconventional style? Lucas: Exactly. The later Julio-Claudian emperors were often judged by how well they adhered to Augustan norms. Caligula was 'mad' because he flaunted his power. Claudius was 'stupid' because he seemed weak. And Nero was 'mad' because he was an artist. The music is a perfect symbol of his supposed insanity, but it was also a deliberate political choice. Lucas: Now, here's something that might surprise you. Nero didn't just play the cithara—he also played the aulos, a double-reed instrument like an oboe, but he stopped because it made his face look ugly when he blew. That's from Suetonius again, but it shows how image-conscious he was. Luna: And he had a special auditorium built for his performances, right? I remember something about a private theater. Lucas: Yes, the Domus Aurea had a huge banquet hall with a revolving ceiling, but also a private theater where he would practice. He also performed in public theaters in Rome and Naples. In fact, his first public performance was in Naples in 64 AD, and the theater actually collapsed after the audience left—but no one was hurt, which Nero took as a good omen. Luna: A collapsing theater as a good omen? That's a bit of a stretch. Lucas: Well, he was superstitious. But it shows how he interpreted everything through the lens of his artistic persona. So, when we look at Nero's music, we're not just seeing a hobby—we're seeing a key to understanding his entire reign. He wanted to be remembered as an artist, not just a ruler. And in a way, he succeeded: we still talk about him. Lucas: But the irony is, the music itself is lost. We have the stories, the criticisms, the jokes, but not a single note. So we're left with the myth—and the question of whether it was madness or a misunderstood vision. Luna: That's a great way to put it. Thanks, Lucas. Lucas: My pleasure. Next time, we'll look at another aspect of Nero's cultural legacy—maybe his architecture. But for now, I hope this gives you a new perspective on the man behind the cithara.