Epidaurus
It is important to note that the Ancient Greeks did not consider theater to be entertainment. Performance fulfilled a more important purpose, a catalyst to healing through catharsis.
The amphitheater at Epidaurus
There is a power of place that transcends history. It is a resonance inherent in the land itself. Such places inspire awe, the Parthenon perched majestically above the city of Athens being one such place. The Parthenon was designed to be imposing, visible from far out to sea and intended to trick the eye, appearing even more majestic from a distance than it is close up.
The Sanctuary of Asclepius at Epidaurus inspires a different set of emotions, wonder, yes, but more than anything the sanctuary and the valley in which it nestles inspires a sense of peace and well being. Our first day visiting this magical sanctuary happened to be International Museum Day, and entrance was free. Something about the open gates added to the lightness of spirit on that day. It felt like a holiday, with a free flow of people spreading across the vast site and filling it with life. The sun was muted, its light diffused by a high altitude cloud of dust blowing in from the Sahara. The dust acted as a sepia filter, creating a dreamy sense of being transported back to another time.
In the golden era of the Sanctuary treatment did not require a fee. It was supported by gifts, and most people gave generously so those with less means might also receive healing. In an age when bloody wars consumed the resources of city states like Athens and Sparta, a spirit of giving built magnificent healing temples, not only in Epidaurus and Athens but all across the Mediterranean.
From the entrance the natural flow of the pathway leads to the famous amphitheater. Ascending over a small rise we suddenly found ourselves on a circular stage where a group of actors were blocking out the space from the center of the circle, the sonic sweet spot. Epidaurus is a living theater and hosts performances in July and August each year. I had planned to test the remarkable acoustics and record the results, but sometimes an experience is so all consuming you simply can’t document it. You are compelled to immerse yourself in the experience like diving in a deep ocean and being swallowed, not so much by the water but by the play of light.
I had long studied the acoustics of this space but I wasn’t prepared for the experience of it. The sound of Epidaurus was enveloping. Haptic more than audible, it was calming to the core of my being. I left my recording gear in my backpack. I just wanted to be there, be immersed in that sound field. That sense of calmness was transformative, and it has become a kind of sonic touchstone, a memory I can return to in my imagination. So, rather than clap or sing on the stage to test the acoustics, I found myself sinking into the ambience, letting the sound resonate through me in much the same way I imagine people did 2500 years ago as they began their healing journey with an immersive performance before embarking on more specific courses of treatment.
It is important to note that the Ancient Greeks did not consider theater to be entertainment. Performance fulfilled a more important purpose, a catalyst to healing through catharsis. An important element of Greek theater and a reason for the grand scale of amphitheaters such as the one at Epidaurus, was the Greek Chorus, a group of up to 50 performers who functioned in unison as one character providing musical subtext, commenting on and clarifying dramatic themes, leading the audience into expressions of grief, joy, and laughter. The power of the Chorus is something primal, adding a subtle spiritual dimension musically. I used a Chorus of Nashville singers on my albums, Well of Ancestors and Stillness Song of Creation, to heighten the emotional impact.
After the actors, alive with purpose and claiming the space with a sense of mission, had left, a group of Brazilian school children bubbled through the place and used the center of the stage as home base for a joyous game of tag. For a moment we joined with travelers from all over the world in this sonic cocoon, united by an unspoken wonder and a connection to something beyond ourselves. We were reconnecting to a time when ancient peoples were motivated by healing to create this vast edifice to a mythic healer, Asklepius, a semi-god embodying the best of humanity. His essence still inhabits the place, a sweetness in the wind, a lilt to the birdsong, the warm breeze carrying the hint of mountain thyme.
Gazing at the way the round hills fold into the wide valley it is easy to see why this place was chosen to be a healing center. We climbed the limestone tiers of seating, still intact 2500 years after the theater was built. We reached the top row high on the hillside and positioned ourselves at the central aisle for the quintessential view that encompasses the sweep of the semicircle and the distant Peloponnese hills.
For many centuries, The Sanctuary of Asclepius was lost, sacked by the Goths in 395 AD and ultimately shuttered in 426 AD. Further damage occurred during a series of earthquakes, until the Sanctuary, like the healing god Asclepius, became more legend than fact. The magnificent theater lay hidden beneath a slope of trees and brush. It was rediscovered in 1881 by a local farmer, and several excavations undertaken by the Greek Archeological Society gradually uncovered the scope of the complex. That the theater, once cleared of overgrowth and debris, still functioned with its remarkable acoustics is a testament to the original design by legendary Greek architect, Polykleitos the Younger. The theater was built in 400 BC when the AsklepIan Healing movement was at its zenith. Theatrical performance was central to the the ancient Greek mode of healing. Beyond entertainment theater was considered a portal to catharsis, a clearing of emotional blocks.
No patient entered the healing sanctuary without first experiencing a profound emotional reset, catharsis. This somatic shift was precipitated by the narrative power of legend, mythology, and story. It was underscored by music, words and images entering the psyche more deeply when wrapped in the harmonic power of tone and melody. It is hard for the modern mind to conceive of how powerful and all encompassing this divine theater was.
Modern medicine is focused primarily on physical systems, and in today’s world we are often left to find the emotional healing on our own. We do not always grasp the power of music and story as an important reset to begin a healing journey. The bio-chemistry unleashed by music and story influences every system in our bodies from the fascial to the cardiovascular, often without our conscious acknowledgment. All this points to the enduring power of human creativity. Its long-ago role as a conduit to catharsis is being rediscovered in much the same way the magnificent amphitheater of Epidaurus has been uncovered from the centuries of overgrowth. A living testament to ancient knowledge, it still works.
