Wie klang Carnuntum? Antike Musik zwischen Militär, Kult und Unterhaltung

What did a Roman city sound like? Anyone strolling through the Roman city of Carnuntum today gets a sense of the ancient architecture and daily life of the former metropolis on the Danube. However, one aspect of this world is much harder to capture archaeologically: its sound.

Carnuntum was by no means quiet. Voices, merchants, artisans, animals, and carts shaped the soundscape of its streets and squares. Music was also part of everyday life. Trumpet signals structured military service; reed instruments accompanied sacrificial rites; and instruments and singing filled the air during festivals and theatrical performances. Music was equally present at private banquets, weddings, and funerals.

Member of the Ars Serena group playing the lyre at the thermal baths in the Roman Quarter - © T. Mauerhofer

For Carnuntum, this soundscape can be reconstructed only in fragments. Music vanishes the moment it is played, and many instruments were made, at least in part, of perishable materials. Archaeological finds, visual depictions, inscriptions, and ancient texts nevertheless allow us to make individual voices of this long-silent sound audible once more. Roman music was by no means exclusively “Roman.” Greek and Hellenistic traditions were particularly strong: instruments, musical training, theater music, and forms of virtuoso performance were adopted, adapted, and integrated into new social contexts over the course of centuries. Added to this were musical traditions from religious cults in Egypt and Asia Minor. The result was an exceptionally diverse soundscape.

Musician Hagen Pätzold playing the cornu at the 2025 Roman Festival - © T. Mauerhofer

We encounter music most directly in the military context. The Roman army used wind instruments not primarily for entertainment, but above all for communication. In an era without radios or loudspeakers, commands had to be transmitted clearly and unmistakably over long distances. Among the most important instruments were the tuba and the cornu. The elongated tuba resembled a straight trumpet, while the cornu was a large, ring-shaped curved horn. Both could sound signals, announce guard changes, or accompany ceremonial marches.

Cornu – Signal Horn (Private Collection) - © Lower Austrian State Collections

Anyone approaching a Roman legionary camp in the morning could therefore probably hear from some distance away that the day’s military activities had begun. Certain signals regulated movements, duties, and procedures. Other instruments were played during parades, religious rites, or public ceremonies. These musicians were not soldiers who played music only occasionally. The army had specialized tubicines, cornicines, and bucinatores. Military musicians fulfilled a defined role within the troops and had every reason to be proud of their work. For at the decisive moment, their instrument served simultaneously as a means of communication, a guide for orientation, and an acoustic symbol of military order.

Spout (Inv. No. CAR-M-2669) and pipe fragment from a cornu (Inv. No. CAR-M-2673) - © Lower Austrian State Collections

A member of the Ars Serena ensemble performing a duet on the flute - © T. Mauerhofer

However, music did not merely structure military life. Communication with the gods also had its own sonic world. In Roman religious rituals, the right words, the right rhythm, and the correct sequence of events were crucial. Hymns could be sung by priests or choirs; music accompanied sacrifices, processions, and ceremonies. The tibia and its player, the tibicen, were particularly closely associated with sacrifice.

The term “flute,” which is occasionally used for the tibia, gives a misleading impression. The instrument usually consisted of two tubes played simultaneously and functioned with reeds—its sound therefore likely resembled that of a very piercing double-reed instrument rather than a modern flute. Some archaeological examples reveal complex constructions made of bone and metal, featuring mechanisms for altering the pitch. During the sacrifice, the music served a specific religious function. It did not merely create a solemn atmosphere but was an integral part of the ritual itself.

Flute/Whistle Made of Bone (Inv.-No. CAR-OR-10)- © Lower Austria State Collections

Other cults could get even louder. The cults of Dionysus and Bacchus, respectively, were associated with tibiae, drums, cymbals, and other percussion instruments. In visual and written sources, the god’s retinue appears as a truly overwhelming soundscape of music, dance, and movement. The music was not intended to soothe, but rather to contribute to a state of ecstasy. Characteristic instruments are also known from the cults of Isis and Cybele. The metal sistrum produced a bright, rattling sound when shaken. In the cult of Cybele, the instruments played included tympana, special Phrygian tibiae, and bronze cymbals. Cult officials, hymns, music, and dance all came together to form a specific religious ceremony.

Member of the Ars Serena group playing the lyre at the Römerfest 2025 - © T. Mauerhofer

Music was also part of public entertainment. It was hard to imagine theatrical performances without musical accompaniment. Mimes, dancers, and singers were also accompanied by instruments. Music also played an important role at events in the arenas. Trumpets and horns could signal the start of certain program segments, while musicians accompanied the action and reacted to events in the arena. The volume likely played a significant role: the music had to be able to cut through the voices of a large audience. In addition to the tuba, cornu, and tibia, Roman entertainment culture even featured an instrument that seems surprisingly modern: the organ. 

The so-called hydraulis, or water organ, had been known since Hellenistic times. Water did not produce the sound itself, but rather stabilized the air pressure required for the pipes. Organs were used in theaters and arenas as well as at private events. A particularly famous example comes from Aquincum, present-day Budapest—that is, also from an important Roman city on the Danube.

Members of the Ars Serena group performing in the Roman Quarter - © T. Mauerhofer

But not all music required a large audience. At private celebrations and banquets, singers, tibiae players, or musicians playing the lyre and kithara could perform. Music was regarded, especially in the context of lavish banquets, as an expression of a refined lifestyle — yet it was precisely this luxury that conservative Roman authors repeatedly criticized. Stringed instruments such as the lyre and kithara were strongly influenced by Greek traditions. The smaller lyre could serve as an accompaniment to singing, while the larger and more elaborately constructed kithara was a decidedly sophisticated concert instrument. 

Music could certainly become a symbol of social status. Successful singers, instrumentalists, and mimes achieved considerable fame during the Imperial period. Ancient authors report on enthusiastic fan bases, prominent virtuosos, and high fees. The mechanisms of “celebrity culture” are therefore by no means an invention of modern pop culture.
 

Member of the Ars Serena group playing the lyre at the Römerfest 2025 - © T. Mauerhofer

But what did this music actually sound like? This is precisely where archaeology reaches its limits. Instruments can be reconstructed, their ranges examined, and, in some cases, experimentally replicated. Written sources describe sounds as rough, shrill, muffled, piercing, or menacing; images depict ensembles and performance situations.

Melodies, rhythm, intonation, and musical conventions, on the other hand, have been preserved only in fragments. Ancient descriptions, at any rate, convey the impression of an at times enormous acoustic intensity: One literary passage describes a Bacchic procession with beaten tympanums, ringing metal, muffled, booming horns, and a “barbaric” flute with a screeching tone. It is no longer possible today to fully reconstruct what this music actually sounded like. At the Roman festivals in Carnuntum, however, musicians playing reconstructed instruments bring at least part of this ancient soundscape back to life—thereby allowing visitors to experience an aspect of everyday Roman life that archaeological finds alone can scarcely convey.