Elevators have always been a true “challenge” for humans; competing with gravity, reaching higher levels has been a daily mission for engineers and architects throughout history. It’s no surprise that even during ancient Rome, the problem of lifting and lowering people and objects was a concern, as evidenced by numerous artifacts that have come down to us. Naturally, traces of this interest are well-preserved in what everyone considers to be the typical architectural signature of ancient Rome: the Colosseum.
Within the ancient “Anfiteatro Flavio”, the world’s largest Roman amphitheater, there was a technical apparatus, invisible to the public and concealed beneath the arena floor. Trapdoors would open to unexpectedly reveal men, animals, and scenery. The purpose was both scenic and functional.
These underground spaces, already planned during its inauguration in 80 AD, were later modified by Domitian into sturdy structures. They covered an area of about half a hectare: 14 corridors flanked the grand central corridor—6 straight, 2 semi-elliptical, and 6 curvilinear.
Until the last documented spectacle in 523 AD, the Colosseum’s underground housed hoists, platforms, and elevators that facilitated communication with the arena floor, overcoming a height difference of more than 6 meters. During the Flavian era, 28 cranes were used to lift various loads. Positioned along the curvilinear corridor, they were employed to raise animals in cages. Simultaneously operating these hoists required 224 people. In the central corridor, however, 20 movable platforms lifted the scenarios used for both hunts and death sentences. Subsequently, starting from the Severan era, the system in the central corridor was dismantled, and in its place, a new system was installed in the straight corridors. This system consisted of 60 “small elevators” capable of lifting both humans and animals. Traces of these architectural gems have reached us, along with numerous reconstructions of these structures, which served as precursors to modern elevators.
