Roman Amphitheatres in Turkey: Conservation and Enhancement Strategies in Light of Recent Discoveries

1. Introduction

Among the most representative buildings of antiquity, one can certainly include venues for public entertainment, characterised by a unique architectural concept and a close relationship with their local context. These structures have often undergone various reuses and transformations over the centuries, and today, the remains of some of the many examples built still stand. The methodological and systematic study of these ruins, which now characterise both urban and rural landscapes, is now at the heart of numerous research projects in the field of architecture and, more generally, cultural heritage, with the aim of investigating and gaining a deeper understanding of this heritage, once preserved within the borders of the Roman Empire [1]. Within this vast array, some of the best-known examples are undoubtedly the amphitheatres, which gradually spread from the 1^st century A.D. onwards, even into the provinces of the Empire. Of all the territories, the particular situation found on the Anatolian peninsula – that is, in present-day Turkey – is striking. Here, in contrast to the large number of ancient theatres, of both Greek and Roman origin, the number of amphitheatres is significantly lower, appearing almost entirely absent upon a cursory examination of numerous scholarly texts [2]. Indeed, various sources, dating back to the earliest expeditions of the 18th century, have noted this scarcity and, in many cases, have failed to identify some of the few examples hidden across the region. The consequences of natural disasters, combined with changes in the urban landscape, neglect and changes in vegetation, have often rendered many of the amphitheatres that once stood in ancient urban settings almost unrecognisable. Of all the causes identified, the encroachment of vegetation is one of the most evident at archaeological sites in Turkey. This natural process tends to harmonise the environment by gradually reducing the architecture's physical presence, which is offset by the growth of vegetation [3]. It was precisely because of this harmonious variation that William John Hamilton, during his expedition to Asia Minor in the first half of the nineteenth century, identified in the field the ancient place-name of Mastaura (now part of Dereağzı, in the present-day province of Aydın), previously mentioned by Strabo [4] and Pliny the Elder [5], though he was unable to identify the amphitheatre [6], which was only officially discovered in 2020. Examples such as these prompt us to reflect more carefully and attentively on our archaeological heritage, highlighting the extraordinary nature of a form of architecture which, although no longer in its original state, is in some cases rediscovered centuries or millennia after its construction and upends the established order of values in that place. This resonates clearly with one of the reflections about landscape, that define it as ‘an open experience, a work that is by definition “unfinished”, continuously modifiable in space and time due to the infinite variables that arise in the process’ [7]; therefore, it is certainly more appropriate, in this case, to speak of an archaeological landscape. An entity that transcends the boundaries of the individual site, extending to a much wider surrounding cultural territory, which therefore deserves to be protected and preserved.

Turkey’s archaeological heritage has been the focus of significant research and conservation efforts, thanks to intensive scientific work carried out by numerous international archaeological missions, which, particularly since the end of the Second World War and guided by the principles of the Venice Charter (1964), have undertaken significant work to safeguard and promote archaeological remains to a wide audience of specialists worldwide [8]. Thanks to these efforts, this heritage has been recognised as a social, cultural and economic resource and placed at the centre of intensive methodological initiatives that transcend various political or religious ideologies, aiming first and foremost at the necessary in situ conservation, safeguarding a wealth that had already fallen prey to numerous ‘authorised’ thefts during the nineteenth century and the first half of the twentieth century [9].

It is therefore necessary to identify the sites covered by this research, which constitute the heritage of amphitheatres within the borders of present-day Turkey, in response to the call to complete a comprehensive survey of these structures, as has already been advocated and called for in the recent past by the scientific community in this field. An examination of bibliographical, iconographical and cartographic sources, combined with the findings of the most recent archaeological excavations, has so far made it possible to identify, with certainty, four amphitheatres, to which must be added two stadiums which, from late antiquity onwards, were redesigned to adopt the more common ellipsoidal geometry of the amphitheatre. Therefore, in addition to the aforementioned site at Mastaura, amphitheatres are also found at Anazarbo (Dilekkaya, Adana province), Cyzicus (Hamamlı, Balıkesir province) and Pergamon (Bergama, Izmir province). To these, we can add the stadiums at Aphrodisias (Geyre, Aydın province) and Ephesus (Selçuk, Izmir province), where alterations made within the arena have enabled the building to be adapted to the customs and characteristics of amphitheatres. As will be discussed in greater detail in the following sections, some of these ancient structures have been the subject of attention from the academic community, with in-depth archaeological analyses. In other cases, more recent studies have enabled a deeper understanding of the site, whilst for others it is not yet possible to provide a precise and accurate profile due to regulatory issues and a lack of interest stemming from the site’s geographical location (Figure 1).

On the basis of these methodological considerations, it is possible to provide an overview of the current state of the art with regard to archaeological research, excavation, conservation and the enhancement of cultural heritage, with a view to identifying critical issues and strengths for the development of a cultural system capable of safeguarding the historical significance of these ancient structures, in harmony with landscape considerations and the impetus that can be provided by institutions, local communities and tourism [10,11,12].

2. Materials and Methods

The theme of ruins and the significance that the architecture of the past takes on within landscape contexts has been at the heart of philosophical reflections since antiquity, as argued, for example, in the writings of Pliny the Elder and Pausanias. Pausanias, in particular, emphasises the importance of preserving ruins in an indissoluble relationship with nature, where cultural, social, historical and religious aspects merge within the landscape, which thus takes on the value of memory. Such accounts, dating back to ancient historiography, confirm the architectural changes also undergone by Roman amphitheatres following the spread of Christianity across the Anatolian peninsula and the consequent damnatio memoriae directed against paganism and the cult that had united the Empire’s most distant frontiers for centuries. Furthermore, of particular importance in the study and discussion of the heritage of amphitheatres is the rich body of travel literature, often accompanied by meticulous iconography and illustrations, which at times bear witness to an unprecedented rediscovery and an early form of cultural engagement and interest in modern and contemporary history, beginning with the era of the Grand Tour [1].

The amphitheatres discovered to date in Turkey can be traced back to just two Roman provinces of the Empire: Asia and Cilicia. The latter includes the settlement of Anazarbo, situated in the predominantly flat region (Cilicia Piana). This territory became a Roman province in 62 B.C., and subsequently flourished particularly from the Flavian period onwards, when the city of Anazarbo assumed a dominant role in trade with Cappadocia [13]. It later became the capital of Cilicia II, following the tetrarchic reform introduced by Diocletian. From the end of the 2^nd century A.D., the city was granted the first of four neokoria, which conferred a unique status of prestige and autonomy [14]; this may therefore explain the presence of an amphitheatre—the only one in this province and in the entire central-eastern sector of the Anatolian peninsula, according to what has emerged so far from archaeological research. The site of the amphitheatre, probably built in the 3^rd century, is situated beyond the southern boundary of the city walls, a short distance from the theatre and the circus. An early plan of the city was drawn up by Charles Texier (1864), which reveals the topography of the acropolis with the fortified settlement he termed a ‘castle’ (a legacy of Hellenistic rule) and the subsequent Roman city situated below, thus recording the first buildings and infrastructure identified during his journey. Here, unlike the theatre and the ‘stadium’, the amphitheatre was not identified during the site surveys. Indeed, as Paolo Verzone noted in his research, the structure of the amphitheatre was first identified in modern times by the Austrians Rudolf Heberdey and Adolf Wilhelm during their expedition to Cilicia in the last decade of the nineteenth century. It was subsequently described in greater detail by the British archaeologist Michael Gough, who was the first to identify the 22 perimeter pillars set against the rocky outcrop and an underground service tunnel for the gladiators [15,16]. The precarious state of preservation makes it difficult for the untrained eye to make out the amphitheatre (Figure 2). Indeed, it is likely that the earthquakes of the 6^th century were a decisive factor in the structure’s fall into ruin, and it was probably never restored in the period that followed [17,18]. The main excavation campaigns were carried out in 1949, continuing in the early 1960s and 1970s, then again in 1988 (following the site’s inclusion in the national inventory of archaeological areas in 1981), in 2004–2005 (with the first use of geomatics equipment for geophysical surveys) [19] and again in 2013. The most recent restoration work at the ancient settlement of Anazarbo was carried out between 2018 and 2020, focusing on the triumphal arch, the columned road, the thermal baths complex and near the amphitheatre, where one of the largest gladiator burial grounds was discovered [20]. Developments in recent decades have also seen significant problems with unauthorised building in the modern-day settlement adjacent to the city’s excavations, as well as frequent unauthorised archaeological operations and thefts of ancient artefacts that have directly affected the amphitheatre site. Indeed, in 2015, one of the perpetrators was caught red-handed whilst carrying out illegal excavation activities [21]. From a morphological point of view, approximately three-quarters of the structure was supported by substructures, as evidenced by the remaining pillars, whilst the remaining section, on the eastern side, was directly supported by the rock [22]; a structural solution that was widely used across various parts of the Empire.

Continuing westwards, the remaining – and most densely populated – part of the amphitheatres in Anatolia can be traced to the province of Asia, the first territory on the peninsula to be wrested from the rulers of Pergamon by the Empire. A vast and equally fertile area for agriculture, with numerous rural settlements, ancient Greek colonies – such as the new capital Ephesus (Artemision) – and more recent Hellenistic cities [14], which, according to Strabo, made it one of the most urbanised areas in the entire Roman Empire [13]. The earliest amphitheatre in this region was founded at Cyzicus, in the northernmost part near the isthmus on the Sea of Marmara (Propontis), a strategic location for maritime control. It was a colony of Miletus, mentioned in Cassius Dio’s Roman History [23]; the amphitheatre is described by Charles Texier as the best-preserved example in Anatolia, although it had already been severely damaged by Ottoman operations. It is situated a short distance from the theatre, although its remains are very sparse; it may have collapsed largely during the 10^th century earthquake [24]. The analysis published ten years later by Georges Perrot, Edmond Guillaume and Jules Delbet correctly highlights the morphological nature of the amphitheatre, comparing it to the example of Pergamon, where there are no point-like substructures but rather radial piers of considerable size, which preclude the construction of the typical ambulatoria. They dated the structure to the mid-3^rd century [25]. Indeed, this amphitheatre can also be compared to that of Pergamon due to the presence of a drainage channel that roughly follows the building’s major axis. The amphitheatre at Cyzicus is the largest in terms of surface area within the territory covered by this study, with plan dimensions similar to those of the Colosseum, albeit with a significantly lower height, which would have allowed for an estimated capacity of around 20,000 spectators; it may also have been used for naumachiae. The surviving walls reach a height of 25 m. Survey work carried out in 1994 enabled an initial survey of the site to be conducted, revealing unauthorised excavations and suggesting that the building was divided into two tiers in elevation. More recent sources date the start of construction to the 2^nd century A.D., but no more detailed archaeological investigations have been carried out to date [22] (Figure 3).

Further south, the city of Pergamon stands as a prime example of Roman architecture and urban planning. Here, a great number of ancient entertainment and theatrical buildings can be found; in addition to the amphitheatre, the stadium and the Roman theatre, there is another theatre near the Asclepieion, the Odeon close to the Upper Gymnasium and the large Hellenistic theatre on the acropolis. These urban remnants encapsulate a complex process of transformation and expansion that the city underwent following the end of Greek rule and during the subsequent Roman expansion, a period also characterised by new uses and functions. An urban planning scheme that did not erase the Hellenistic layout but integrated it into a new whole, a symbol of cultural compromise and historical continuity, in the spirit of the pax romana (Figure 4). The amphitheatre of Pergamon, built on the hill to the north-west of the city, almost as if to mark out a new acropolis of Roman design, conforms fully to the geometry of the terrain, with the necessary substructures for the building’s horizontal and vertical alignment being provided only where absolutely essential; this can be explained by the need for cost-effectiveness in the project during the period of construction. The vast structure, capable of accommodating around 15,000 people, is also quite distinctive for its precisely circular plan, rather than the elliptical shape more commonly found in amphitheatres; this too is a feature linked to the economic viability of the project [26]. The traditional form of the amphitheatre would have required excessive quantities of materials and heights for that type of structure. Its proximity to the stadium and the theatre means that the city conforms to Rome’s urban model, and this is also clearly reflected in the earlier case of Anazarbo. An analysis of travel literature reveals that the amphitheatre is mentioned by William Turner during his expedition in the first half of the nineteenth century [27], but also by Texier, who hypothesised that it had been damaged in the past due to the construction of the city’s perimeter walls in the medieval period and noted the misinterpretations of earlier travellers who, misled by its layout, mistook it for a circus [24]. Archaeological analysis has shown that the building was constructed in several phases, beginning in the first half of the 2^nd century A.D. (Figure 5). The first scientific survey was carried out in 1908 by Richard Bohn and Paul Schazmann (correcting Texier’s initial survey, which contained numerous errors) and has recently been compared with the LiDAR survey carried out by the Turkish-German team under the auspices of the Deutsche Forschungsgemeinschaft. In fact, during the events surrounding the dismantling of the Pergamon Altar in 1885, the engineer Carl Humann also took an interest in the amphitheatre, but the restrictions imposed by the then-owner of the land prevented any further investigation. Recent scholarly interest has made it possible, in agreement with the local authorities, to launch a major programme of routine maintenance, beginning with the control of wild vegetation on the site, which over the last few decades had partly obscured it and encouraged the growth of an unauthorised rubbish dump dating back to the Byzantine period [28,29,30]. The 2021 investigations confirmed the absence of substructures on the eastern semi-amphitheatre, as it is built entirely against the slope of the land, making it partly similar to the amphitheatre in Cagliari (Italy) [31]. The results of the excavations begun in 2018 confirmed the hypotheses regarding the various phases of the structure’s construction, thereby completing the three-dimensional reconstruction model [32]. These initiatives have not only broadened the horizons of scientific research but have also enabled the implementation of a policy about active conservation of the site, curbing the spread of development in the immediate vicinity [33,34].

The most recent discovery is undoubtedly the amphitheatre at Mastaura, identified in 2020 through a contribution from Adnan Menderes University and the regional offices of the Turkish Ministry of Culture and Tourism during an aerial photogrammetric survey of the ancient city. Indeed, the dense vegetation of olive groves had preserved and concealed much of the masonry substructure for centuries [3] (Figure 6). In fact, the hypothesis of an ancient theatre had already been put forward by William John Hamilton in the first half of the nineteenth century; however, he encountered great difficulties in orienting himself within the site [5]. Indeed, uncertainties persisted even in the most recent literature, amongst leading figures in the field such as Paola Ciancio Rossetto, Giuseppina Pisani Sartorio and Frank Sear [35,36]. Research in recent years has revealed that the amphitheatre resulted from the extension of an earlier Hellenistic theatre that utilised the cavea on the northern and eastern slopes. The Romans added the south-western section using masonry substructures [22]. The building was probably constructed around 200 A.D., during the Severan period, and could accommodate around 15–20 thousand spectators [38]. This period of neglect can also be attributed in part to the town’s history. Mastaura, in fact, fell into gradual decline during the 17^th century, under Ottoman rule, whilst the town of Nazilli grew in importance. The last remaining inhabitants, who had continued to live in hamlets or isolated dwellings amongst the ruins of the settlement, finally abandoned the site during the Second World War [39]. Aerial surveys carried out in 2020 have drawn renewed attention to the site and enabled a fresh analysis of the documentary record, uncovering a valuable photographic report compiled in 1921 by the Greek archaeologist Konstantinos Kourouniotis, which reveals the remains of the amphitheatre – previously unidentified as such. The clearance of vegetation, laser scanning and ground-penetrating radar surveys made it possible to commence excavations in 2022, carrying out the first consolidation work on the masonry structures. Meanwhile, the land acquisitions carried out by the Ministry in 2021 ensured initial protective measures for the site, enabling excavations to continue and the production of the first plan of the city of Mastaura [40].

So far, we have described the amphitheatres identified to date within the borders of modern-day Turkey. However, as mentioned in the introduction, it must be borne in mind that other ancient structures served as amphitheatres in Turkey, as attested not only by the activities that took place within them but also by tangible remains still in situ. This is the case with the stadiums at Ephesus and Aphrodisias, which were also situated in the Roman province of Asia. In general, there are many stadiums on the Anatolian peninsula – 32 in total – distributed mainly between Asia and Lycia. The prevalence of these structures certainly suggests that at least some of them were also used for munera and venationes, as evidenced by the layout of the stadiums at Nysa and Aphrodisias, which feature a double sphendone, forming a structure described by Strabo as a ‘stadium-amphitheatre’, ideal for a wider range of entertainment activities. In many cases, it has been established that the podium wall was raised, usually between the 3^rd and 4^th centuries, in order to protect the audience from activities in the arena [41]. When viewed within the broader context, which encompasses all the various configurations of stadiums in Anatolia, the cases of Ephesus and Aphrodisias merit separate consideration and more in-depth analysis; for, beyond the functional adaptations designed to follow the tradition of amphitheatres, what is most striking is their architectural configuration, which makes them utterly unique compared to other structures.

Ephesus’s extraordinary fame, dating back to antiquity, is now well established. The city was already the most populous centre in the whole of Anatolia during the Hellenistic period. Archaeological studies, which began with the British expeditions of 1869, provided a deeper understanding of the architectural stadium, which may have been the first of its kind in Asia during the Hellenistic period and was subsequently enlarged during the reign of Nero [42]. It is a notable example of Greco-Roman cultural integration, characterised by a variety of uses, ranging from sporting and recreational activities to ceremonial functions [43]. In reality, however, more in-depth analyses of the stadium only began in 1993, making it possible to date the earthquakes that occurred between the 3^rd and 4^th centuries, which were one of the causes of the initial collapses and the subsequent alterations to the structure, which adapted the building for use as an amphitheatre [1,44]. In this way, the sfendone was separated from the rest of the stadium by the arena’s border within the field (Figure 7). In the case of Ephesus, too, part of the seating – that on the southern side – was carved directly out of the natural slope, with substructures built only on the northern side. The church built within the stadium during the 5^th century confirms the definitive abandonment of the ancient structure and its sporting functions, transforming the arena into agricultural land. Overall, the findings of the archaeological investigations carried out to date have not revealed any further details regarding the stadium, which certainly deserves greater attention in the near future and further excavations.

A situation similar to that described so far can also be observed at the stadium of Aphrodisias, characterised by architectural features, historical events and late antique transformations [45] (Figure 8). Of particular note are the events linked to the reuse and transformation of the site, beginning with the extensive damage caused by the earthquake recorded in the 7^th century and the subsequent establishment of the village of Geyre, which was then gradually depopulated following the incursions of the Seljuks and Turkmen in the late Middle Ages [46]. Consulting the writings of nineteenth-century travellers, the description provided by Léon de Laborde during his expedition in the first half of the nineteenth century is certainly of interest to us; in it, we learn that, since ancient times, the local population ‘on construisit à l'extrémité orientale une muraille circulaire, qui fit de la sixième partie de l'ancien théâtre un nouveau théâtre tout entier’ [47]. Therefore, setting aside the mistaken identification of the theatre as the amphitheatre, this constitutes an early account of what was subsequently confirmed by later archaeological expeditions. The first excavations, which began in the early 20^th century, continued after the Second World War thanks to the support of New York University, yet it was not until the survey carried out in 1994 that an accurate plan of the current state of the stadium’s remains was obtained; this survey analysed not only the ancient structures but also the fortified system constructed later through the adaptation of the existing architecture [43,44,45,46,47,48]. This has been described by critics as the best-preserved stadium in the entire Mediterranean and one of the largest [41,49].

The heritage described and classified thus far must be considered in relation to the regulatory framework governing the criteria for its conservation and enhancement in the contemporary context, in the light of the sensitivities and critical reflections that have emerged over recent decades. The legislative framework governing cultural heritage in Turkey has its origins in Law 2863/1983, which established the inseparability of archaeological and natural heritage. Yet this regulatory framework is still not sufficiently aligned with the requirements set out by the international scientific community in more recent times, and thus remains bound by government guidelines, which are certainly more inclined towards tourism-oriented perspectives than towards the cultural dimension of this heritage. The numerous nominations of potential UNESCO sites put forward by Turkey stand in stark contrast to the alarming warnings issued by the international organisation itself, which has on several occasions raised the possibility of withdrawing Istanbul’s listing due to failure to comply with the required guidelines [51,52,53]. This scenario, therefore, clashes with advances in research and the growing debate, which, particularly since the end of the Second World War, has been fuelled with the aim of encouraging countries and institutions responsible for coordinating and promoting cultural issues worldwide. International guidelines have made it possible to increasingly develop and refine the requirements of archaeological conservation, leading, from the last decade of the last century onwards, to specific considerations that have focused more particularly on recreational and entertainment buildings. The Segesta Declaration, the Verona Charter, and the Syracuse Charter represent a process that has certainly raised awareness of this category of archaeological structures, whilst still leaving numerous gaps and distortions highlighted by a section of the scientific community [54].

3. Results and Discussion

An analysis of amphitheatres in Turkey has revealed a marked lack of consistency in the scientific literature – even the most recent works – regarding the accurate identification of Turkey’s sites. Leaving aside the oldest sources and the travel literature of past centuries – which, due to more limited means and resources, could not have provided detailed knowledge of the distribution of this heritage – it is surprising that some recent sources still contain references that are not entirely up to date. This is the case, for example, with Nevzat Ilhan’s 2002 article, which mentions only those at Pergamon and Cyzicus [41], as also reported in the article by Hülya Yüceer et al. [55] or in Nurettin Koçhan’s paper, published in 2023 [56], which fails to take into account the discoveries at Mastaura, despite a substantial international body of literature that had already reported and disseminated this information to scholars since 2020. Such oversights, therefore, call for a correct identification and classification, as urged in this article, including structures although not originally designed as amphitheatres, have nevertheless undergone architectural and functional transformations that now allow them to be included in this archaeological classification.

With regard to the list of amphitheatres in Turkey, it is worth noting that, according to some scholars, the region in question may have been home to other amphitheatres about which there is as yet no definitive information. In particular, there is mention of a possible amphitheatre at the ancient city of Antioch ad Orontes, in the south-eastern corner of Anatolia, on the border with Syria. According to ancient sources, it was even the first amphitheatre to be built in the East. Archaeological investigations carried out by Princeton University during the 1930s produced an archaeological plan of the city showing a possible location for the amphitheatre intra moenia [57]; however, there is still no direct material evidence of this today [50]. The severe repercussions of tensions in Syria and the associated migration flows, combined with numerous earthquakes – including the catastrophic one of 2023 – mean that conditions are not stable enough to allow research to continue or cultural projects to be launched, despite the site’s rich archaeological potential. In his renowned work on amphitheatres, Golvin mentions a further possible site at ancient Comana in Cappadocia [59], but there is currently no other evidence to support this hypothesis. A final indication, based on the findings of the most recent archaeological research, concerns another possible amphitheatre at the ancient settlement of Zeugma, on the banks of the Euphrates, also situated a short distance from the Syrian border [22]. Here, the construction of the dam in recent decades has led to a significant reduction in the archaeological area, which is now effectively submerged, and has undoubtedly contributed to the complexity of the case. Recent geophysical analyses suggest that the site is located in the south-western part of the settlement, again within the city walls [60], but for the time being, it is not possible to go any further.

Apart from the amphitheatres for which no evidence has yet come to light to confirm the hypotheses, or further cases of which no one is yet aware, the overwhelming quantitative disparity between ancient theatres and amphitheatres in Turkey remains irrefutable, starting with the conspicuous presence of Hellenistic structures, later converted into theatres for Roman use, which involved far lower costs and financial investment than the conversion or even the new construction of amphitheatres. As early as centuries ago, some travellers attempted, through their memoirs, to identify the reasons for this phenomenon. According to Perrot, Guillaume and Delbet, the local populations had no particular interest in the games held in the amphitheatres, and these only developed later, thanks to the migration of Italic merchants and legionaries from the western regions, who brought their culture to Anatolia [25]. Certainly, one must also take into account the socio-cultural change brought about by Christianity with the ban on games from 404 A.D. onwards, as well as the frequent earthquakes that contributed to deterioration and the plundering of ancient materials [22]. In addition, the widespread presence of Hellenistic theatres allowed for adaptations whereby it was possible to stage occasional Roman games even in structures designed for theatrical performances [61]; this represented an exception to the standard practices more commonly found in the West. Similarly, many stadiums – given their greater number – were also used for activities generally held in amphitheatres, even without any particular architectural adaptations [41], in contrast to what is observed in Ephesus and Aphrodisias. It must certainly be borne in mind that, with the exception of Mastaura, all place names in Turkey where amphitheatres are found refer to cities that played a leading role in political, institutional and commercial terms, and were therefore centres of paramount importance in socio-cultural dynamics. These were likely densely populated centres that served as focal points for a wider territorial context and, from the 4th century onwards, often played a fundamental role in the political reorganisation of the territories and in the pattern of provincial fragmentation that occurred during the Empire’s final years. The structures analysed in this study are broadly comparable to most eastern amphitheatres, where the reuse of building materials, the utilisation of the terrain’s natural contours and the choice of simpler architectural solutions designed to minimise construction costs are consistently evident in all cases analysed [58].

Turning to issues of conservation, the heritage of Turkey’s amphitheatres – in some cases – is currently the focus of an intensive programme of archaeological analysis that, in addition to broadening the horizons of our knowledge, should also identify appropriate strategies for their protection. Looking more broadly at Turkey's archaeological landscape, it is clear that numerous critical issues exist. Whilst the installation of contemporary structures to protect archaeological material aims to ensure conservation, it also contributes significantly to spoiling the landscape and creating a skyline that bears little resemblance to the centuries-old character these areas have acquired throughout history [62]. Added to these are interventions involving incongruous architectural additions in the run-up to international public events, such as what occurred at the theatre of Aspendos ahead of the G20 summit in Antalya, as well as at the site of Hierapolis in Phrygia in anticipation of a large influx of tourists and visitors from around the world, drawn by the appeal of its UNESCO inscription. However, this has also led to an increase in scientific research into the materials used in restoration work. It is precisely in relation to this international body that, whilst in some cases the exceptional nature of the landscape has led to a successful outcome for the nomination, in others – such as at Anazarbo – the application was rejected because further detailed studies and investigations were required within a vast archaeological area which, however, is certainly less marred by contemporary buildings, as well as due to a unique and extraordinarily dense archaeological presence, which future excavations could enrich [21]. Recent studies have sought to carry out more in-depth analyses aimed at establishing cultural corridors linking Anazarbo with other towns in the area, thereby increasing interest in identifying appropriate policies for promoting the area and encouraging the creation of cultural networks; this approach certainly marks a change of direction compared with the past [63]. The issue of UNESCO, therefore, cannot fail to raise numerous concerns. Various studies have confirmed that this prestigious opportunity is viewed by the Turkish authorities – and others – as an excellent opportunity for growth in tourism and, consequently, as a means of generating wealth in the region and securing grants [55]. Viewed through this lens, UNESCO’s value and authority risk being undermined and serving primarily as an economic and media driver rather than acting as a ‘seal’ of quality for its very nature and its model of care and respect amidst the rapid processes of global transformation. On the other hand, well-considered interventions have been carried out at Aphrodisias, where a project to control and manage plant species is enabling the site to be redesigned and promoting respect for biodiversity, whilst also facilitating public access, particularly during the summer months. In addition, a targeted consolidation operation was carried out on the structures of the stadium-amphitheatre, where temporary works ensured the structural stability of the most weakened parts without resorting to solutions that were overly intrusive to the view or the compositional character of the archaeological monument [64]. Other amphitheatres, such as that at Cyzicus, show a complete lack of conservation measures, and the same applies to their enhancement. Many local residents have never actually seen the ruins of this amphitheatre, which lies just a few kilometres from the places where they go about their daily lives [56]. The lack of interest shown by archaeological missions in this site has so far prevented extensive field research, which would be necessary for a more in-depth understanding of the amphitheatre’s historical and architectural characteristics [22].

Generally, the conservation policies implemented today are the result of decades of theoretical and applied research in archaeological restoration. Within the Italian discipline, but with a broad international scope, the ideas put forward by Amedeo Bellini [65] and Stella Casiello [66], amongst many others, now form the foundation of a methodological approach that can be described as exemplary; not only have many international archaeological missions drawn inspiration from it and demonstrated its effectiveness in practice, but the wider scientific community in the sector has also laid the groundwork for the drafting of a number of useful conservation documents. Yet, in light of the latest developments, the most recent Syracuse Charter now, in some respects, represents a document at odds with perspectives on conservation developed in recent years. In addition to being exclusively linked to ancient theatres and failing to provide a broader interpretation of all performance venues, it contains excessive emphasis on operational guidelines aimed at a hoped-for repurposing, placing particular emphasis on the economic dimension and the enhancement of the asset’s image [54]. The considerations raised by the academic community, therefore, now call for a broader perspective and a thorough review of the present Charter.

In addition to the continuation of excavation and archaeological survey work, the sites in question must necessarily be linked to the territorial and cultural context of their surroundings, thereby consolidating that aspect of the archaeological landscape which connects ancient artefacts, human activity over time and the contemporary vision of a historicised environmental dimension – one capable of experiencing the present whilst continuing to breathe the authentic stratification of the past [67,68]. The stark contrast currently evident between the archaeological site of Aphrodisias and the adjacent urban centre of Geyre [49] points to a lack of collaboration and a disconnect between the local community and cultural institutions, which must absolutely be bridged through participatory development. Similarly, at the amphitheatre of Anazarbo, given its close proximity to the present-day settlement of Dilekkaya, it is necessary to identify policies that foster a sense of belonging and closeness between the community and the ruins, between social vitality and historical and cultural memory. In this regard, there is a need for enhancement policies that are aligned with conservation efforts and aim to stimulate citizens’ curiosity, thereby raising their awareness of cultural heritage [69]. Therefore, the heritage of amphitheatres should be understood as ‘public domain’ – not only in the legal sense of the term, but above all as heritage that requires care and engagement with the community, to be implemented at every stage of the conservation process. This outreach work is now well-established within the concept of ‘live restoration’, which seeks to identify practices of virtual archaeology, as well as experimental and digital archaeological approaches that closely link the value of ancient heritage with the potential offered by the most innovative technologies [70]. The path outlined so far still reveals significant gaps and uncertainties in heritage promotion policies. The possibility of utilising Web GIS services could, at the same time, foster a broader understanding of excavation findings and the activities carried out during restoration work, reaching a wider potential audience interested not only in historical and archaeological aspects but also in technology and the new frontiers of research into the ancient world. Such a service could also include extensions through digital humanities as tools capable of conveying knowledge through multidisciplinary work, which would significantly reduce the need for direct intervention on ancient artefacts [71]. Web platforms would, in fact, make it possible to further disseminate the findings of this research, promoting awareness of the country’s heritage over long distances and not only enabling the study of these structures but also fuelling curiosity and interest amongst the general public, starting with those who might be interested in travelling to those parts of Turkey, perhaps rather than the more well-trodden areas.

It must be borne in mind, in fact, that certain tourism policies relating to Turkey’s archaeological heritage are overly centred on the appeal promoted by UNESCO which, when combined with the centuries-old renown of certain sites – such as Pergamon and Ephesus – contributes to identifying sites that are more heavily visited and, in some cases, even overcrowded, to the detriment of others, which may offer lower levels of conservation or fewer visible structures but instead allow visitors to experience a strong connection with the landscape, with the attractions of coastal areas, or simply with the local traditions and characteristics that authentically reflect the original character of the site. The heritage of amphitheatres in Turkey, therefore, can also play a significant role in the tourism landscape, helping to balance the range of offerings and opportunities for travellers, thereby enabling the creation of that network of promotion which is fundamental to greater vitality in inland areas and to a more careful understanding of the hidden treasures of the region [68]. This also enables the creation of themed itineraries able to counter the risks posed by the globalisation of tourism, which can be detrimental to local character and distinctive features [9]. In the case of Cyzicus, for example, it would be possible to combine the current tourist demand in the nearby town of Erdek, which is limited to just two months a year, with an expansion of the cultural offering over a much longer period, thereby diversifying the attractions and opportunities for visitors thanks to the presence of the archaeological heritage. Here, in fact, as in many other areas where amphitheatres are found, one can discover other ancient buildings, dating from both pagan and Christian periods. These are, therefore, areas well-suited to high-quality nature-based and rural tourism, offering the chance to stay in villages and take part in events and activities typical of the local community [56]. These opportunities can, however, be realised only through the ongoing commitment of the local cultural and tourism authorities, with the support of tour operators in devising tourist packages and promoting itineraries to an international audience. Such an initiative would truly enable visitors to discover these areas, including the most fragmented and lesser-known ones, which are no less interesting for that [72].

In this way, it is possible to draw a connection between the heritage of the amphitheatres and the agricultural landscape – the latter often given only a cursory, inattentive glance, yet which in reality conceals within it a millennia-old tradition, as well as a pattern of care (or neglect) and a design of the rural landscape that blends historical and archaeological aspects with the imperatives of biodiversity. The vast expanse of olive groves near Mastaura, for example, reflects that indissoluble bond which has linked the ruins of the amphitheatre to the agricultural activities of the local community and represents the convergence of past cultures with the harmonious development of contemporary society [73]. It is precisely this encounter between nature and ruins that requires careful understanding and a balanced approach, capable of revealing the historical information hidden beneath the ground whilst at the same time respecting the native vegetation which, over time, has also helped to preserve the ruins and give rise to that unique landscape, where the boundaries between nature and archaeology remain difficult to define and where, it is therefore necessary to broaden the overall perspective and extend the scope of conservation to the territorial level [74].

The issue of conservation and respect for the site inevitably raises restoration work and the possible repurposing of the archaeological site. As Emanuele Morezzi carefully points out, recreational and theatrical buildings – including, therefore, amphitheatres – are the only ancient structures that can genuinely be repurposed in relation to their original use [75]. This, as is well known, leads to significant pressure from institutional stakeholders to designate these sites as cultural centres for a mass audience, capable of bolstering the budgets of the relevant bodies and revitalising the local community. However, a more in-depth consideration is essential. Such projects, which in some respects may even be beneficial, must be properly weighed against the scale of the site, such as the vulnerabilities and characteristics of the surrounding area. Precisely for these reasons, the recommendations set out in the Syracuse Charter are today wholly insufficient for a detailed understanding of the individual building and, consequently, for determining whether or not such an intervention is justified. It would be unthinkable for the author to envisage a project to repurpose the buildings at Mastaura or Cyzicus for entertainment activities, as they are set within a unique natural landscape of extraordinary beauty. The safety and infrastructure shortcomings of the sites, as they stand today, would require intervention that is unsustainable in economic, environmental and certainly cultural terms. On the contrary, the remains of the Anazarbo amphitheatre, following further excavation surveys and a project to secure and consolidate the ruins, could allow for the thoughtful reuse of these spaces, which are easily accessible to a wider public, situated close to a built-up area that necessarily needs to be understood and safeguarded, not least to combat the looting mentioned earlier. Policies for the reuse of the amphitheatre must ensure a ‘dual’ purpose, allowing both a clear understanding for the wider public and, at the same time, providing opportunities for a more in-depth analysis for specialists or, quite simply, for those with a greater curiosity and interest, who are keen to understand the site’s historical, archaeological, architectural and landscape features in detail. Some of the most exemplary restoration projects carried out at theatres in Turkey, such as at Elaiussa Sebaste and elsewhere [76], provide a useful reference for identifying techniques and design solutions to be adopted when repurposing certain amphitheatres, as part of a clear and comprehensible cultural project that articulates the true aims and objectives of such an undertaking [77]. In this way, it is possible to proceed on a case-by-case basis, identifying the most appropriate solutions that balance, on the one hand, the need to preserve the physical integrity of the amphitheatre and, on the other, the desire to restore its architectural form, which has been lost or is difficult to discern on the ground. This solution can only be identified through an in-depth understanding of the site and a contemporary intervention characterised by absolute sincerity, one that avoids destruction and instead favours the superimposition of the ancient [65], whilst fully respecting the value of antiquity. This value must be reconciled with that of ‘use’—which is, to some extent, necessary in the contemporary context—and both must in turn be reconciled with other ‘parallel values’ in an attempt to achieve ‘a reconciliation between the two initially incompatible values’ [3] through a constant dialogue between the present and the past [78].

To carry out appropriate work on an amphitheatre, it is necessary to draw up a strategic masterplan, which is essential for coordinating maintenance, conducting restoration work, and the approach to be taken for the enhancement and management of the site [79]. In addition to the stages of the process, it is necessary to take a holistic view of the project’s geographical context, balancing the needs of the individual heritage site with its surroundings and the archaeological context—whether evident or latent—that can be observed in situ. This approach will therefore enable the masterplan to also analyse the natural heritage or any more recent urban settlements, with a view to determining an appropriate landscape-scale framework for the project. This approach will not only ensure greater care – avoiding projects that are out of scale or out of step with the needs or sensibilities of the local community – but will also allow for sensitive consideration of the surrounding archaeological site, promoting the care and protection of areas potentially rich in ancient material not yet identified by experts.

In addition to the cases mentioned briefly above, the amphitheatre of Pergamon, following the meticulous archaeological work being carried out in recent years, will inevitably need to be integrated with the city’s best-known monuments, fostering a more thoughtful dialogue between the contemporary city and its ancient layers. The skilful use of lighting would enhance the remains [80] and also allow for night-time visits, which are particularly useful during the hottest and sunniest summer months, when strict restrictions are often imposed at lower latitudes. The skilful use of light does, in fact, allow for greater enjoyment of the site, even if this is simply understood as a visit to the areas that have been made safe within the site. This thus enables the identification of vantage points, landscape relationships and connections with the architecture and the surrounding context, revealing aspects that are certainly different from the daytime view and recalling, in a more profound way, the relationship with the historical dimension.

The networking of Turkey’s amphitheatre heritage – including the sites at Ephesus and Aphrodisias – thus enables the creation of a network of numerous projects that are synergistically interconnected, skilfully showcased, yet at the same time linked together, highlighting commonalities and architectural distinctiveness that trace a historical and cultural profile of extraordinary fascination and a rediscovery of values. Through these amphitheatres, it is possible not only to recount a significant part of the history of these territories but also to explore geographically distant contexts, as well as the diverse layers and transformations that contribute to defining the cultural landscape which Turkey – and, more broadly, the Mediterranean countries – share and are called upon to preserve and pass on to future generations.

4. Conclusions

Turkey’s archaeological heritage remains, in the contemporary context, a unique phenomenon when compared with the wider Mediterranean area, which shares a heritage rooted in antiquity. The most recent changes to the built environment – which, in many of these contexts, have taken place only in the last three or four decades (unlike the more negative trends evident in more developed countries) – allow us to appreciate this territory not only for its wealth of ancient remains, but also for a landscape that many other contexts have now lost. Thanks to their millennia-old stratification and a predominant natural component – in some contexts still almost unexplored – it is possible to identify a unique context in which to reflect on strategies for preserving what remains, and bears witness to the architecture of Roman amphitheatres.

The nineteenth-century era of European travellers – often characterised by the looting and export of archaeological material – was replaced, from the twentieth century onwards, by a significant international contribution which, intensifying after the Second World War, enabled extensive excavation campaigns to be launched, adopting (though not always) a scientific approach to the study and conservation of archaeological remains.

The findings of the most recent research now make it possible to compile a more comprehensive and up-to-date catalogue of amphitheatres. In line with the methodological framework adopted in this study, the catalogue also includes structures originally constructed as stadia and subsequently converted into amphitheatres through specific architectural modifications. Indeed, this research has sought to examine the entire corpus of amphitheatres in present-day Turkey through a comparative and systematic approach that, to date, has not been documented in the scholarly literature. As noted by other international scholars investigating the ancient theatres of Turkey [81], a substantial body of archaeological literature is devoted to the analysis of individual monuments; however, no study has yet considered this architectural heritage as a whole. The four amphitheatres and two stadium-amphitheatres identified and analysed therefore reveal a striking quantitative disparity when compared with the corpus of ancient theatres from the same geographical area. More than 200 theatres have been recorded in Turkey alone [81]. This broader heritage of entertainment and performance buildings requires comprehensive and accurate cataloguing within updatable and interoperable databases to support scientific research, conservation initiatives, and the dissemination of knowledge to wider audiences. A comparison with the study by Kübra Ağırgöl and Özlem Sağıroğlu Demirci further highlights a significant spatial correspondence between the distribution of theatres and amphitheatres. Both building types are concentrated predominantly in south-western Anatolia, particularly along the coastal regions of the Roman province of Asia [81].

It is therefore essential to establish a network for the enhancement of amphitheatres in Turkey, in harmony with the wider heritage of recreational and theatrical buildings, fostering cultural dialogue with other historical and architectural sites in the region, promoting informed initiatives for their safeguarding and conservation, and adopting measures for repurposing only where possible and deemed necessary, whilst respecting the nature and fragility of the heritage site. Through this methodological approach, these archaeological sites will serve as repositories of centuries of memory [1] and as cultural crossroads where different cultures and layers of memory converge.

Ruins defy the passage of time, embodying its various depths. They enable humankind to rediscover the time to believe in history as an educational need. Bringing them back to light, creating an entirely new landscape means carefully selecting what to highlight within the whole, in harmony with the surrounding landscape; this truly represents a genuine interaction between humankind and nature [72]. To achieve high-quality results, it is therefore necessary to identify a bespoke approach, devising a project that accompanies the life cycle of the ruins; a unique entity [7] within which to incorporate the necessary maintenance work and conservation measures, thanks to the innovative contribution of the various disciplines, by means of ‘subtle and measured contemporary interventions’ [71] that allow for an appropriate balance between the necessary architectural reinterpretation of the ruins and the essential preservation of the traces of the past, to be handed down to future generations. In this way, it is possible to truly confer a social and cultural role on places that evoke the memory of antiquity, recognising them as indispensable testimonies for understanding the past. It is therefore necessary to embark on this methodological approach to ensure the historical continuity of the ruins and the accumulation of memorial processes preserved within a landscape rich in stratifications.