An image of Christ from Roman times illustrates how effective, tailored design draws an audience in.
In a small house buried thirty feet under St. Peter’s Basilica is a picture of a young man riding a four-horse chariot. He carries the sun behind him and travels across the sky. In any other setting, one would think this is Sol, the Roman god of the sun. But look closer: a small cross on the man’s staff reveals that this is an early depiction of Jesus Christ. As designers and communicators today, we can learn a lot from how this tiny detail in the ancient image completely transforms its meaning.
Before St. Peter’s Basilica existed, Vatican Hill was home to a pagan necropolis. A necropolis is a neighborhood comprised of mausoleums styled like family homes. Each house was dedicated to a family and held the remains of their deceased. Later, Constantine leveled the hill to make room for his basilica and buried part of the necropolis, using the structures as a foundation to build on. Luckily for historians, burying the mausoleums preserved many of them. In one of the houses, every nook for ashes was purposely sealed and the room was prepared for inhumation, which indicates that this house was bought by early Christians. On the ceiling is this image of Jesus, depicted like Sol holding a cross.
This painting was created so early on that traditions for Christian sacred art and iconography were not widespread. Thus, these Christians interpreted Christianity using the traditions provided by Roman culture. By borrowing the image of Sol, these Christians communicated a lot about their faith. The rising sun is a symbol of Jesus’ resurrection. As the sun rises, rooms fill with warmth, and daily life commences. It would be a seamless transition for Romans to understand their theology through Christ carrying the sun across the sky.
Sol was not a perfect symbol for Jesus. As Christians began to understand their faith free of the Roman lens, this image was abandoned. At the start, though, early Christians were better able to relate to this makeshift icon than images that are familiar to us. Through borrowed, familiar Roman imagery, Christianity became readily understandable to the pagan world. This familiarity and comprehensibility vastly expanded the audience ready to hear the Christian message. This important connection to the sun was communicated perfectly to that group of people.
This is an ancient master class in imagery. It shows how images shape us and how we, in turn, can shape both images and others.
The example set by this story is important to consider when we are approaching a new audience who might not be familiar with what we are doing. Using illustrations (no pun intended) from your audience’s lives can be effective when trying to convince them of your position. If we want to communicate convincingly, we need to consider the particularities of our audience and how they relate to our message, just as those Romans did.
The two aspects to focus on in this example are style and expectation.
Today, people often think of style as only a matter of personal expression. “This is my style; it is how I express myself.” Few think of it as a tool. Many designers fall into the trap of thinking about personal style rather than their audience. The audience should dictate every design feature. A design can have perfect typography, great illustrations, and a cohesive composition (in the abstract), but if these elements fail to speak to this specific audience, that perfectly crafted design fails. A more successful design is tailored to the audience, even if other elements of the design are imperfect.
A practical example of this is typography. Many consider to be the perfect font. If we could rank fonts, I think Helvetica would be one of the best. It is praised for its geometrical form, horizontal cuts, and versatility. Some designers live and die by this font. If you walk down the shampoo aisle in Target, you will see Helvetica on most of the boxes and bottles on the shelves.
However, replace the font of your favorite Western movie’s title with Helvetica and a good design will crumble. The fonts of old Spaghetti Westerns are full of imperfections. They have strange serifs and look weathered, but they capture the essence of what a Western is supposed to be.
Style helps us connect the message to what is familiar. Our expectations are how we react to familiar ideas. People have deep-seated emotional reactions to different images, and well-crafted design can elicit those emotions.
Star Wars is a great example of this principle in film. Everything about these movies should be unintelligible, a faraway galaxy packed with weird aliens and religions. To help us understand this, George Lucas stole stories from other films and interwove them in his. Even costume design helps us understand that, in this galaxy, one side is bad, and one is good.
After being styled in a way to stir a certain emotion or convey a specific message, good designs find ways to elevate or sometimes twist what is then expected. An approachable style draws audiences in, making them more receptive to additional messages and ideas. Knowing now that the Roman Empire would transform into a Christian society, the image from the Roman mausoleum becomes much more significant. It is a visual representation of the pagan being transformed into the Christian.
The most basic message of this image of Jesus says to the pagans “What you have has good elements, let me know you how this is similar but better.” It really is an invitation to understand something new.
As Americans, we do this all the time with our imagery. The Dome in the Senate Building is painted in a Neo-classical style but with George Washington in the center. It is saying “The Greeks and Romans knew a lot about Statesmanship, but Americans have perfected it.” It connects the American experiment to, not only enlightenment ideas but ideas of Aristotle and Cicero.
Humans are primarily a visual species. Our sight is our primary sense. Clever images that invite people with their style and elevate meaning can be extremely effective for communication. Our Roman example illustrates how universal this tactic is.
