Bakkhai Variations:
Villanova Theatre
Dionysian ritual
Euripides’ Bakkhai happens in and around the worship of Dionysos. A play about Bakkhic ritual and Dionysos’ origin story at a festival entirely dedicated to the same thing imbues the text with an inherent metatheatricality. However, since the playwright could rely on the audience understanding the rites being mentioned, the exact details of what the bakkhai do in service to their god remains somewhat vague. This research page will provide some more information of what worshipping Dionysos looked like in Athens and elsewhere in the Ancient Greek world as well as how these practices aligned and differed from other Greek gods.
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If you’re interested in the sexual implications of these rituals, click here to go to the Dionysian Ritual & Sex page.
Music & Poetry
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Perhaps the most distinct feature of Dionysos’ prayer is the music. Usually called a dithyramb, these songs employed a small chamber orchestra’s worth of instruments, which Euripides himself indicates when Dionysos calls for his votives to “lift up your tambourines! / bang loud your drums!” (15). This music complements a short verse that would be chanted, repeated, and improvised upon. Andrew L. Ford describes the idea of “The New Dithyramb” that emerged during the 5th or 6th century BCE, observing how it “is well known for its tendency to profuse and arcane epithets” (A Different God? : Dionysos and Ancient Polytheism, 345). He cites a specific example from lyric poet Pindar that contains in “fifteen legible verses … nine compound epithets, of which six are hapaxes or not previously attested,” meaning that nine different names for Dionysos appear in a short fifteen line hymn and six of the nine were brand new as of Pindar’s writing (ibid). While songs to other deities frequently included accompaniment and calling out divine names, Dionysian worship tended to be much more indulgent and expansive in these aspects. For more information on Dionysos many names, visit the God of Many Names research page.
Dance
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In conjunction with this marvelous music, there would be dancing. The only other god in the Greek pantheon that frequently employed dancers was Apollo. In fact, Euripides danced for Apollo early in his life before transitioning to tragic choruses and playwriting. Scholars both during Ancient Greece and since uniformly define the dances dedicated to Dionysos as ‘ecstatic,’ which Nils G. Holms explains “is derived from a Greek word [ekstasis], with the original meaning of removing oneself from a given place. By an extended sense of the word, this implies
Above: Triumph of Bacchus, Ciro Ferri c.1750
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Below: Roman sarcaphogus depicting Dionysos and his revelers c.260-70 CE
that the ego is no longer in the physical frame” during these moments (“Ecstasy Research in the 20th Century—An Introduction,” 7). By understanding the modern meaning of ecstatic alongside the Greek etymology, one can begin to imagine what these wild dances looked and felt like. Unfortunately, very few visual examples have survived to the present, but these dances were integral to what Kadmos’ children and the other bakkhai did while on Mt. Kithairon. It goes without saying, however, that wine went hand-in-hand with the music and dance, especially in striving for ecstacy.
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Possession
Sometimes these performative elements would extend beyond prayer and would induce possession or trance. Johnathan M. Hammett writes about how “ecstatic possession became one of the hallmarks of the Dionysiac ritual complex” provided the majority-women bakkhai “as ritual of status reversal, which allowed women temporary relief from the hegemony of Greek men but which actually served to reinforce the social hierarchy of male domination” (“Maenadic Possession: A Ritual of Status Reversal in the Cult of Dionysus,” 36-7). These paradoxes of strengthening social structures through spontaneous ritual crystalizes the dual intention of the entire City Dionysia in Athens and other celebrations for Dionysos.
Egyptian piece of fabric depicting Dionysian worshippers c.5th century BCE
Sacrifices
Another facet of Bakkhic worship comes in carrying out animal sacrifices. Any notable deity would receive offerings of cows, sheep, goats, dogs, or other animals. Stella Georgoudi summarizes an account from Claudius Aelianus (175-235 CE) who wrote, “The people of Tenedos keep for Dionysos … a pregnant cow, and as soon as it has given birth, they tend it like a woman in child-bed. The newborn young they sacrifice, after binding buskins upon its feet. But the man who strikes it with the axe is pelted with stones by the people and runs away until he reaches the sea” (A Different God? : Dionysos and Ancient Polytheism, 49). While this specific example does not account for how every sect offered libations to Dionysos, it serves to show the power of purposeful peculiarity when sacrificing in the wine god’s name. Moreover, mighty deities like Zeus or Poseidon preferred fully matured animals on their altars, but Dionysos tended to accept very young animals from his worshippers. This is why part of the bakkhai’s ritual garb includes a nebris, literally the pelt of a young animal.
Thyrsi
The most central component of a maenad’s regalia was the thyrsos. Within the text of Bakkhai itself, a thyrsos acquires pretty incredible powers. The Herdsman describes how a single celebrant “took a thyrsos and struck a rock. Clear water gushed out,” and then how “Another pierced the ground to make wine flow” (39). He later admits that, “You know a thyrsos can make quite a wound” when used as a weapon (40). The artifact itself is simple enough in design: the staff was usually made of a fennel branch, it was usually topped with a cluster of leaves and berries from ivy and grape plants, and tied around it was a piece of fabric normally used to secure one’s hair or toga (tainia). But something gave this plain looking object a ferocious intent when wielded by the bakkhai. This fear-inducing
connotation likely derives from therole the thyrsos played in invoking Dionysos. Before the dithyramb would begin, the bakkhai would twirl their thyrsi in unison to indicate their revels were about to begin. If this simple fennel wand had the power to summon a deity and open the door to ecstatic possession, it would be an impressive object in a society so firmly built around divine worship.
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To summarize, the various aspects that distinguish Dionysos’ rituals from other members of the Greek pantheon can be synthesized by considering them exaggerated versions of similar practices performed in other gods’ names. People danced for Apollo, but not with an abandon that led to trance. Music and chanting was integral to all worship, but rarely did it involve calling a deity’s name so many times and in so many different ways. Animal sacrifices unite all major votive rites in Ancient Greece, but rarely were newborn calves killed upon the altar. Ritual clothing and accessories could be found in association with other gods such as a laurel wreath in honor of Apollo, but none were as elaborate as the nebris and thyrsos. In this context, beyond Dionysos’ definitive purview over wine, theatre, and festivity, one could consider him the god of excess and indulgence as well.
Greek vase of Dionysus and two maenads c.530 BCE