The Story
She stands in the apse of a church in Ravenna, carrying a golden chalice, surrounded by her court. She wears a crown of pearls and jewels. Her face is long, pale, her eyes enormous and absolutely direct. Around the hem of her robe, embroidered in gold, are the three Magi — bringing gifts, just as she is.
Theodora was one of the most powerful women in the history of the Byzantine Empire. She had been an actress — a disreputable profession in late antiquity — before she became Justinian's empress and, by most accounts, his equal. She influenced law and theology and politics to a degree that shocked and outraged many of her contemporaries. And here she is, in the most sacred space of a church, making the offering. On the left wall, facing her across the apse, her husband Justinian does the same. They are equal in the image.
The mosaic is a political document, a theological statement, and a portrait. It is also one of the most dazzling surfaces human hands have ever produced: gold and silver and lapis and emerald and wine-red glass, shimmering in the Italian light as it has for nearly fifteen hundred years.
