Getting good seats at the Colosseum

Nowadays there are no

good

seats

in the Colosseum. In fact, thanks to centuries of enthusiastic looting, there are no

seats

at all. But when the amphitheater was complete, it could seat more than 50,000 spectators. During the great games sponsored by the empire, when most of Rome's millions of inhabitants competed for those 50,000 or so seats, the chances of

getting

a

good

place in the arena depended on who you were, who you knew, and how creatively you exploited both. Like the other entries in my time traveler's guide to ancient Rome, this video offers hypothetically practical advice to modern tourists with the means to visit imperial Rome.

This time, we'll explore how our hypothetical time traveler could get a seat (and, with a little maneuvering, a good seat) during the games at the Colosseum. First, a little history. Seating in the Colosseum, like so many other things in the Roman world, was regulated by social class. The best seats, those closest to the arena, were reserved for the emperor, the vestal virgins, and the senators. This section, known as the podium, consisted of marble terraces designed to house the chairs from which the elite viewed the world. Each spectator on this privileged level was attended by at least one slave, who carried his chair, protected them from the sun, and served them refreshments.

Above the podium was the equivalent of the Colosseum's business class: tiers of wide marble seats where members of the equestrian order sat with relative ease and comfort, separated from the masses by a high stone wall. The main seating section was above the equestrians. There, row upon row of narrow marble benches housed most of the audience: all men, all Roman citizens, all sweating in woolen togas. These seats were divided into dozens of sections reserved for members of various guilds and associations. The highest and worst seats were located along the edge of the perimeter wall, in the stifling gloom just below the awning that protected the arena from the sun and rain.

In this section, slaves, women, and other low-status spectators stood shoulder to shoulder on rows of rickety wooden boards, fifty meters and a world away from the senators in their padded seats. Having reviewed how the seats worked, we can move on to the practical aspects. Gladiators only fought in the Colosseum a dozen times a year. Time travelers who want to see the arena in action should plan their visit to coincide with Saturnalia, when emperors almost always host a series of games. Those with an appetite for the truly spectacular should point their time machines to 80 AD, when Titus dedicated the Colosseum with a spectacular series of events, or to 107 AD, when Trajan organized games that lasted four months and in which No less than 5,000 pairs of gladiators participated.

Now, how to get tickets. The entrances used in the Colosseum were known as tesserae. Sometimes tesserae were tokens specially made of lead or ceramic. Often they were just pottery fragments. Whatever form they took, they showed three numbers: door, section and row. On the day of the games, a spectator showed his tile to an assistant, who directed him to the corresponding door. The ushers in the stands made sure he was seated in the proper section and row. The games held in the Colosseum were free. The tiles, however, were scarce. Unlike modern tickets, they were not sold or made available to the general public.

Instead, they were delivered in blocks to important individuals and guilds. These men and organizations could then distribute them as they wished among friends and clients. Time travelers looking to get their hands on a tile have a few options. Short of simply stealing one, which would be unwise for a number of reasons, all of these options start with finding a well-connected Roman friend. If you've chosen his character well (see the first video in this series for more tips on that critical topic), this won't be difficult, as many members of the Roman elite like to associate with scheming foreigners.

After impressing a potential sponsor, ideally over dinner (a topic to be discussed in a future video), time travelers will usually have to do no more than politely suggest that they would like to attend upcoming games. The quality of the seat obtained through these tactics will depend on the identity of your sponsor and the nature of your chosen character. Many prominent Romans had access to both guest seating in their own sections and customer seating in the less desirable stands above. You'll only get one of the coveted guest seats if you can convince your host that you're fascinating and important.

One way to achieve this would be to imply that you are on some kind of diplomatic mission, since ambassadors used to sit with senators in the front rows. A less risky strategy would be to simply present yourself as a rich and distinguished person in your distant homeland and hope that your employer wants to be seen with an exotic visitor. The best case scenario is a seat on the podium next to the senators. If you can pull this off, you'll have a great vantage point both to watch the action in the arena and to gawk at the emperor, whose box was located between the senatorial seats.

You can also enjoy a comfortable armchair, specially prepared soft drinks and good wine. If your seat is located in the Equestrian section, you will still have plenty of legroom. But you'll be sitting on hard marble, so bring a seat cushion. You'll also need to bring your own food or be prepared to order it during intermissions. If your host decides that you're not really important and relegates you to the main seating section with his other clients, you can count on a tight spot on a narrow bench, where you'll be elbowed, kneed, and shoved the entire time. of the games.

If you value personal space, prepare for a very long day. Finally, if the only seat your host wants to give you is located on the wooden benches along the edge of the arena, be prepared to stand all day and know that unless you have an exceptional view, the action at the sand will be almost invisible. If this happens to you, I suggest you travel back in time to a different era, find a better patron, and try again. As always, there is more to say. But for the sake of time, and since I'm more than a little jet-lagged at the moment, we'll take a break here.

I have a whole series of interesting videos planned for the coming weeks, so stay tuned. In the meantime, check out my upcoming book, Naked Statues, Fat Gladiators, and War Elephants, which provides would-be time travelers with a wealth of useful information for navigating the classical world. Thanks for watching.