I have visited the Parthenon many times over the years and to me it remains one of the most compelling monuments in the ancient world. Rising above Athens on the Acropolis, it dominates the city skyline much as it has for more than two thousand years. It is between the historic districts of Plaka and Monastiraki and an easy walk from Syntagma Square. Yet what we see today is not simply an ancient temple, but the result of centuries of change, damage and survival.
The Parthenon was built between 447 and 432 BCE during the leadership of Pericles, when Athens was at the height of its cultural and political influence. It was dedicated to Athena Parthenos, the city’s patron goddess, whose presence symbolised wisdom, strategy and civic order. This was the same period in which democracy, philosophy and theatre flourished in Athens.
What makes the building remarkable, apart from its position high above the city, is the precision of its design. At first glance it appears perfectly symmetrical, but this harmony is the result of subtle adjustments. The columns swell slightly in the middle, the platform curves upward and the lines of the structure lean almost imperceptibly inward. These refinements were deliberate, correcting optical distortions and creating the balance that still impresses today.
Ancient Greek temples were not designed to be entered in the way modern buildings are. Religious ceremonies took place outside, with processions and offerings forming part of public life. The Parthenon was therefore meant to be viewed from all sides, its sculptural friezes depicting mythological battles, gods and scenes from Athenian civic life.
The removal of many of its sculptures in the early nineteenth century by Lord Elgin is a contentious issue, and the debate over the return of the so-called Elgin marbles from the British Museum is still a hot topic.
Just below the Acropolis stands another extraordinary monument, the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, a Roman theatre built in AD 161 by the wealthy Athenian Herodes Atticus in memory of his wife. Even today it is used for performances during the Athens Festival, seating around 5,000 people beneath the Acropolis walls.
On 31 July 2025, I attended a performance of Vivaldi’s opera ‘Rigoletto’ there. Sitting on the ancient marble tiers as the opera unfolded under the night sky, with the illuminated Parthenon above us, was one of those rare moments when history and performance merge into a single experience.
For now, however, the theatre has fallen silent. After the 2025 season it closed for a major restoration expected to last around three years, as conservators stabilise the ancient stone seating and protect the structure from further wear. The intention is to ensure the theatre can safely host concerts and opera again in the future.
Like the theatre below it, the Parthenon itself has had many lives. After antiquity it became a Christian church, and later a mosque during the Ottoman period. The most dramatic damage occurred in 1687 when a Venetian bombardment ignited gunpowder stored inside the building, destroying much of its centre.
Despite these losses, the Parthenon remains one of the most powerful architectural experiences in Europe. It was conceived as a temple but is more a statement about civilisation and that beauty, order and civic life could be expressed through architecture.
Light plays a crucial role in the experience. Throughout the day the marble shifts from pale gold to deep shadow, and from the city below the building appears almost suspended above Athens. It is visible from nearly every vantage point in Athens and there are a myriad of rooftop bars with amazing views to the floodlit night view of the Parthenon.
