Compared to the women of Classical Greece, Roman women are surprisingly well-represented among the extant portraits in marble. The images range from the unflatteringly veristic to the idealised and goddess-like. Women are presented as paragons of beauty, or as archetypes of moral virtue. Bodies tend to fall into one of a limited number of categories, in which robes are chastely drawn across the chest, or in which divine semi-nudity assimilates women to the goddess Venus, or to other figures in the Roman pantheon. Faces, however, display much greater artistic freedom. Even when women opted to be represented as an eternally youthful goddess, the facial features of the subject shine through. As a result, a number of (especially imperial) women can be identified from their depictions, even when there is no accompanying inscription. While the ideals of morality and beauty might have been impossible to attain for real-life women, the art of portraiture provided a medium through which Roman women could choose their own mode of self-representation.

This important sculpture was found in Alexandria, which was – for most of Roman history – the second city of the Empire, with a population of at least half a million in the Second Century AD. It played host to the Imperial Family whenever they were in the eastern portion of the Empire, and was an important base for the Emperor Hadrian during his various tours of the east. The Barakat portrait depicts an older woman, perhaps in her fifties. While at first one notes her stern aquiline features, accentuated by a downward matronly gaze, closer examination reveals a gentler expression. Her gently lidded almond eyes are wide and alert under a heavy overhanging brow, her nose angular and severe, and her mouth drawn up in slight smile. Her left ear, close to the head, is carefully rendered; her right ear, a modern restoration, has less artistic quality. The right ear is pierced, and this would seem to be a peculiar choice or error by the restorer. Indeed, the left ear has no evidence of such a piercing, a feature which is never seen in Roman portraiture. She has a heavily incised hairline, which is often taken in Roman sculpture to indicate that she is wearing a wig. This interpretation is supported by the complexity of her sculptural hairstyle, which resembles an Indian-style turban. Her own natural hair is visible on her crown and at the nape of her neck, where her shorter locks are drawn back across her head, defined at the back by a diamond weave. Her neck is slightly twisted, suggesting that the full sculpture – either a pectoral bust or a full-length depiction – was in the traditional contrapposto beloved of Classical sculptors, in which the hips and neck are twisted in opposite directions, with their weight resting on one foot.

Visual inspection seems to indicate that this sculpture is carved in Dokimeion marble (marmor docimenum), quarried in the vicinity of İscehisar in modern-day Turkey. This conclusion was drawn from the fine grain size (under 1 mm) of the marble and the milky white colour. The marble has been stained with a light ochre tinge due to burial conditions. Evidence of antique toolmarks is visible on the surface of the sculpture; the presence of unpolished rasp marks on the nape of the neck would seem to indicate that the rear of the sculpture was not intended to be viewed closely. The break at the neck, a point of weakness in any sculpture, appears to be accidental. The head was broken in two at some point before discovery, from behind the left ear to in front of the right, and has been repaired in modern times. There is some loss to the left ear, the crown of the head, and the rear peak of the ‘turban’.

The dating of this sculpture to the Roman Period seems certain from the arrangement of the hair in what archaeologists call the ‘turban coiffure’, also referred to by the German term Zopfkranzfrisur, which more correctly refers to hair arranged as a wreath. This hairstyle appears to have originated in the coiffure associated with the Vestal Virgins (British Museum 1979,1108.1), senior priestesses in Rome responsible for tending the flame of Vesta, goddess of the hearth. The hairstyle was imitated by the Roman elite of the Second Century AD, becoming a favoured style of Hadrian’s wife, Vibia Sabina (cf. Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek 774) and her sister Matidia Minor (cf. Metropolitan Museum of Art 21.88.35, Musei Capitolini 889). The so-called ‘nest’ hairstyle, associated with the Empress’ earlier coin and sculptural portraits, was also imitated by elite women of the period, who left their own tomb and memorial portraits. Importantly, a portrait from Alexandria evidences that the turban coiffure made it to Alexandria (Getty Museum 79.AA.118), probably during the Empress’ visit alongside her husband in AD 130. The profile of another portrait – Musei Capitolini 181 – bears a close resemblance to the coiffure of our bust, though in a rougher style, and without the decorative accoutrements. Such additions are more associated with the portraits of Vibia Sabina, who is sometimes depicted with whirls and the like in her coiffure (Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek 774), or with a diadem fronting her ‘turban’ (Münzkabinet Berlin 18203545; Palazzo Medici-Riccardi 19). The unusual hairline of the Barakat portrait, and especially the distinctive fold of hair at the centre parting, is paralleled in certain portraits of Sabina (Museo arqueologico provincial de Sevilla RE148-2).

A feature of certain Second Century AD portraits which is reflected in the Barakat bust is the small band of fabric which separates the fringe from the ‘turban’, decorated with incised diagonal lines. Roman portraits rarely show the mechanics by which the increasingly elaborate hairstyles of the elite were constructed, but the use of a fabric headband is evident in busts from the Art Institute of Chicago (1960.64), the Musei Capitolini (181) and the Archaeological Museum of Apollonia (16). In the Barakat portrait, this fabric band extends from the fringe up over the turban, appearing to hold it in place. This particular arrangement is unparalleled in the extant sculptural corpus, but does strike a similarity to a portrait of a Roman woman – insecurely identified as Vibia Sabina – now in Vienna (Kunsthistoriches Museum AS I 96), in which one of the braids is pulled down across the left side of the ‘turban’. The ‘turban’ coiffure disappeared from portraits in the Antonine Period, suggesting a possible terminus ante quem of AD 140.

While the profile of the Barakat portrait’s coiffure finds some close parallels in the Second Century AD, a Fourth Century AD date can also be proposed. In particular, the character of Helena, mother of Constantine, was associated with a revival of the ‘turban’ coiffure. Whether or not Helena actually wore a hairstyle like this is irrelevant; portraiture from the reign of Constantine specifically looks back on models from the height of imperial power, and especially to the reign of Hadrian, the epitome of the ‘Five Good Emperors’ of the Second and Third Centuries AD. Representations of Helena with the ‘turban’ coiffure are abundant; the two significant seated portraits of Helena (Musei Capitolini 496 and Uffizi 1914 no. 171) depict her with this hairstyle, while significant coin issues also show the coiffure (e.g. British Museum 1872,0709.430). Indeed, the coin portraits, less naturalistically rendered than the sculptures, bear a notable resemblance to the profile of the Barakat sculpture. As in Hadrian’s reign, other women in Constantine’s household also mimicked the ‘turban’ coiffure, and were depicted as such in both sculpture and numismatics.

If we are to attribute the Barakat portrait to an Imperial figure, then the hairstyle gives us several choices. We must look, then, to the other features of the portrait to narrow down the options. The age of the figure would seem to immediately discount Vibia Sabina; at the time of her suicide, in AD 136, she was a mere forty-eight years old. More importantly, Sabina’s image diverges from the ultimately veristic trend of Roman portraiture. Even her last known portrait (Museo del Prado E000210) presents Sabina as a beautiful youth, untouched by the ravages of time. The case looks stronger for Helena, then, who was portrayed as an older woman in her role as mother of the Emperor. However, certain stylistic features argue against this attribution. From the late Hadrianic Period, pupils and irises begin to be carved into the stone, rather than merely painted on or inlaid. The pupil and iris were especially prominent in the Constantinian Era, eventually becoming a key symbol of Christian awe. Similarly, portraits of the Constantinian Period generally look upwards, towards the heavens. To underline this attitude of reverence and awe, the eyes are often unnaturally large. So, the Barakat portrait seems to most comfortably fit with Sabina’s time if not Sabina’s person.

In this case, one figure springs immediately to the fore: Sabina’s mother, Salonia Matidia, also known as Matidia Maior to distinguish her from her other daughter, Matidia Minor. Salonia Matidia was a maternal niece of the Emperor Trajan, and often accompanied her uncle on his tours of the Empire. It is rumoured that she was one Trajan’s closest advisors, and had undue influence on imperial policy. She was first married to a suffect consul, Lucius Vibius Sabinus, to whom she bore a daughter, Vibia Sabina. Sabinus died in AD 83, and Matidia soon replaced him with an aristocrat, Lucius Mindius. From that marriage came a second daughter, Mindia Matidia, better known as Matidia Minor. Mindius died in AD 84, and Matidia again rapidly remarried, to the suffect consul Libo Rupillius Frugi. The repeated and quickfire deaths of her husbands have led some historians to wonder if she might have had a hand in them. Upon the death of her mother, Trajan’s sister Marciana, Matidia was promoted to the title of augusta (empress), and played an important role in the succession of Hadrian to the throne. It was Matidia who accompanied Trajan’s wife, Plotina, when she repatriated Trajan’s ashes to Rome, and it may have been her influence that convinced Plotina to recommend (or coerce) her husband to appoint Matidia’s favourite cousin to the imperial purple.

A comparison of the facial features of the Barakat portrait with those of Salonia Matidia shows a generally positive correspondence. The full cheeks and slight smile of the Barakat portrait find a comfortable parallel in the Louvre portrait of Matidia (Ma 1196), as do the small eyes sunk deep in the face. The aquiline nose of the Barakat portrait bears a passing resemblance to the profile of the British Museum’s Matidia (1805,0703.96), though it should be noted that portraits of Matidia tend towards a slimmer and straighter nose. Portraits of Matidia show the kind of advanced age which is seen in the Barakat sculpture, a feature which is never seen in Vibia Sabina’s image. Coins demonstrate the close association between Matidia and the ‘turban’ coiffure, which even stands as her signifying feature on a coin commemorating her jointly alongside her mother Marciana (British Museum R.8042).

Why a portrait of Matidia might be found in Alexandria is somewhat easier to answer. Upon Matidia’s death in AD 119, Hadrian – who had a close relationship with his mother-in-law – delivered a funerary oration for her in front of the Senate, and held games and a grain dole in her honour. The text of his eulogy praises her as ‘the greatest physical beauty, obedient to her mother, and most indulgent as a mother herself’ (CIL XIV 3579) and pleads with the Senate (a mere formality) for her deification. Duly granted, coins were soon minted celebrating her elevation to the pantheon, and Hadrian began work on her temple, the first full-scale religious institution devoted to an imperial woman. It would be remarkable if Matidia’s newfound status was not reflected in Alexandria, the Empire’s second city, especially during Hadrian’s visit of AD 130. It is to this context that the Barakat portrait might be attributed.

References: similar portraits depicting Salonia Matidia can be found in Paris (Musée du Louvre Ma 1196) and London (British Museum 1805,0703.96).