“It’s full even when it’s empty” our tour guide described as we entered the Colosseum and marveled at the archways connecting corridors to the remains of Roman spectator seating. Romans adopted the archways from the Greeks but improved them. They used these arches to support the building and evenly distribute its weight, giving the impression that empty space was filled with brick. For me, this description encompassed more than a discussion of Roman architect ingenuity, however; it gave me time to reflect.
The Colosseum in the evening was still and quiet. Lights illuminated the arched windows,
dappling the darkness and calling me closer. The Colosseum was empty, but over the emptiness hang a ponderous silence, reminding me of the men and beasts who lost their lives in the bread and circus spectacle of the games. Walking the perimeter of the Colosseum without the distraction of the crowds and vendors allowed me to be fully present. This was a place of tragedy and sport, reflecting the status structure of Rome, that ended in the bloodshed of thousands; and yet, it remains, giving us a glimpse into past civilizations. I am so lucky to be here, to become a small piece of the history and memory of this place.
The Colosseum in the morning is busy and bright. The calm is gone and the physical emptiness is filled with chattering tourists and guides, recounting the stories of the construction, important events, and individuals surrounding the Colosseum’s vast history. The whir and hum of voices paired nicely with our discussion of the games, as these often served as a community hub for Roman citizens. The games occurred three times a day; first, the hunts – where gladiators and beasts fought to the death; second, the execution of criminals by beasts; third, the gladiator games – man against man, Roman army against enemy armies. The point was to create a Las Vegas-like spectacle, distracting the citizens from political and social changes taking place. But within this spectacle, were the deaths and pain of many who were unable to say no or hopeful that, by winning frequently, they would improve their lives.
Amidst the noise and movement, I felt the same heaviness. The loss and skill of the men - the gladiators - remain within the Colosseum’s walls, attracting tourists and contemplation.
This post was written by Stephanie Meier, a doctoral student in Consumer Science from Greenville, SC. Her research interests include healthcare access and decision-making.