Sunday, May 23, 2010

The Hagia Sophia/Aya Sofia (Istanbul part 3 of 7)

Hold on to your seats, because this might just be the longest post ever. But don't worry, most of it will be pictures :)



















It's not exactly easy to get a picture of the outside of the church/mosque/museum because of the sheer size of the structure, so here's a couple of teasers.

The Hagia Sophia was built originally as a Christian church by the order of Emperor Justinian because the previous church on the site was destroyed by riots in 532 AD. The name Hagia Sophia means the "Church of the Divine Wisdom," and is one of the few churches not named in honor of a saint. When it was built, the Hagia Sophia was unrivaled for a thousand years: the scale and grandeur of the cathedral were a major symbol of Byzantine power and sophistication. During this time, the Hagia Sophia was the largest enclosed space in the world until the Cathedral of Seville beat it out in 1520.

One of the major ways the Hagia Sophia differed from all previous constructions is the dome.

The dome is 30 meters across and hovers over essentially empty space. All previous constructions had the dome supported by solid walls under it. You can get a better idea from the photo below.

Obviously the cathedral/mosque/museum has walls, but they are quite a way back from the edges of the dome, which hovers above sort of half-domes surrounding it. 20 years after construction was finished, the central dome collapsed (to be fair, it was the first construction of its kind and no one was really sure if the building would be able to support its weight. Pretty good work for "well, we THINK this should work...") and rebuilding work was carried out, which actually increased the height of the dome after the buttresses were shored up and made taller as well. From this rebuilding period on, it became a bit of a tradition to take out windows. I guess this was meant as a means of strengthening the building, but 1500 years of window removal has left the interior disappointingly dim and dark.

Anyway, flashfoward to 1204, when overenthusiastic soldiers on the Fourth Crusade sacked the cathedral. They divvied up the altar, carried off the cathedral's treasures, and stuck a prostitute on the patriarch's throne to sing and dance, mocking the practices of the eastern Byzantine (Orthodox) Church. In 1452, the Byzantines desperately sought Western Europe's aid in holding off the encroaching Turks, even agreeing to reunite Eastern Christianity with the Catholic Church, but Western Europe proved to be not so helpful, as the Turks conquered Constantinope in 1453 anyway. From 1453 until 1932, the Hagia Sophia served as a mosque, referred to as the Aya Sofia. The Byzantine mosaics were plastered over and the relics were removed from the church to facilitate this transformation. Then in 1932, religious services were stopped and the building was re-purposed as a museum.

To be honest, my first impression upon entering was, "Oh, it's really dark in here. And oh look, scaffolding. Because of course there's scaffolding when I visit!" I think the building suffers from its loss of windows, which would really illuminate the grandeur of the building. The gallery level is better than the ground floor, as it still has some daylight seeping in. The chandeliers suspended from the ceiling which once cast the cathedral/mosque in flickering candle light now hold tacky electric candles, which do NOT give the same effect, but are probably necessary to meet fire codes.

Now I've been in a fair few cathedrals in my time, and what really sets the Hagia Sophia (I'm just going to stick with western Christian spellings from here out, because frankly I'm more interested in the Byzantine period church) is how well the museum manages to provide a sense of both the Byzantine church and the Turkish mosque. But before that, a quick note on the awful yellow paint- the mosque was restored by the Fossetti brothers in the mid 1800s. Part of their work included recreating the original mosaic work as best the could in paint. So where that yellow paint is would have been gold mosaic tiles with interspersed geometric designs. Above you can see the Islamic medallions with the names of Allah, Muhammad, and the first 4 caliphs, but you can also see the uncovered mosaic of the Virgin and baby Jesus in the semi-circular alcove above the altar. Below is a close up of this mosaic.




The gold tiles in the background likely originally covered this entire niche area, and it is these gold tiles that really benefit from flickering candlelight, which catches the glimmer in the gold and makes it sparkle.


Here you can see the gallery level, where the best of the mosaics have been uncovered. You may notice that the columns on the different levels do not line up with each other. At the time of construction, this was unheard of, and contemporaries questioned how this could possibly make for a stable structure. Guess the architects showed them! On the ground level, one can still find the marble flooring where the Byzantine Emperors were crowned.

The purple marble above is also found elsewhere in the cathedral, and it is a bit of a mystery where this marble came from. Purple marble like this is Egyptian porphyry, and it is both rare and was not being quarried during the period the Hagia Sophia was constructed. It must have been taken from elsewhere, but it is unclear where it would have come from.

A mihrab, a niche indicating the direction of the Kaaba in Mecca and thus the direction that Muslims should face while praying, now occupies the space where the altar once stood. Now, you may be thinking, "I dunno, it looks pretty well lit in there." Well, you would be wrong. That's called a camera flash. Here's an idea of ineffective the windows are at illuminating the ground floor.

Now of course that's not to say that the Hagia Sophia isn't amazingly impressive; I guess I just subscribe to the Gothic theory of light and airy churches, must be the Medievalist in me. But for sheer age alone, visiting the Hagia Sophia is kind of a surreal experience.

Also on the ground floor, just before the entrance to the ramp up to the gallery level is a peculiar column known as the Weeping Column.


How it works: You stick your thumb in the hole and then attempt to turn your wrist all the way around so that the rest of your fingers get all the way around. If when you pull your thumb out, it is moist, your ailments will be healed. My thumb was moist, but that might have just been from the sweaty hands of everyone before me in line to try their luck. I think the trick is to start with your elbow up and wrist twisted as far as you can go before spinning around.

Now we get to the best part. In a departure from most churches, you get to go up a ramp instead of endless uneven steps to get up to the gallery level.


From the gallery level, you not only have a great view of the lower level and the dome, but you can appreciate the mosaics from up close and can also participate in your own synod!

This is the Marble Door. It marked the entrance to the meeting room used for synods, meetings of the Church to decide issues of doctrine, administration, teaching, etc. Immediately past the Marble Door, you will find the first of the Byzantine mosaics.


Well, what's left of it anyway. This is the Deesis mosaic, commissioned in 1261 to commemorate the end of unification with Latin Catholicism and a return to Orthodox belief. Here is depicted JC (sorry, my shorthand for Jesus Christ) with his mum Mary and John the Baptist.


Here's a shot across to the other side of the gallery with a mini-exhibit of photos from the Hagia Sophia. Here you can see some of the original marble columns, complete with geometric paint job by the Fossettis on the tops of the columns.


Here we have JC and Mary again. But I like this mosaic for the figures flanking them. On the left is Emperor John II Comnenus and to the right, Empress Irene. A depiction of their son is on the side of a wall jutting out towards the camera to the right of Irene. Apparently his sad face is because he died from tuberculosis the year the mosaic was made. I'd be sad too. These are 12th century mosaics. Just down from them, a similar scene from the 11th century can be found.


Here we see JC with Emperor Constantine IX and Empress Zoe. This one is interesting because these aren't the original faces! It is uncertain why the faces were changed, but the popular theories are that the mosaic originally depicted either Zoe's first husband or her adopted son, or that the mosaic was of and earlier emperor/empress and rather than ordering a whole new mosaic, they just changed out the faces.

There are still a number of mosaics yet to be uncovered, but as is to be expected with a building this old, decisions must be made about what to showcase and what to preserve. For example, most of the major mosaics have been uncovered to the extent to which they still exist, but some basic cross/geometric mosaics remain covered to preserve historic Islamic painting. One of the biggest controversies is what to do with the dome. Before it was painted with Islamic calligraphy, it held a mosaic of Christ as Ruler of the World. If the mosaic still exists, it would be a great find for Byzantine art/mosaic studies, but would require the destruction of the historic Islamic calligraphy. For now, there are no plans to go searching for it, but one would think they could infrared or laser study to determine if anything actually remains underneath the paint and then evaluate what to do with it. But what do I know?

So there is more than you probably wanted to know about the Hagia Sophia/Aya Sofia/Aya Sofia Muzesi. But to finish off, check out the ablution fountain built in 1740. Meant to be used on the way into the mosque, it now lies on the way out due to the way they've set up the visitors entrance. But I think it is quite pretty.


And if you've made it all the way through that, congratulations! Now have a cookie, you deserve it :)

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