Marble slicing

The walls round the massive first floor galleries of Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, and also right around the arcades underneath the galleries, are clad in panels of decorative stone, mostly marble, but many other multi-coloured and variegated stones as well.  The decorators who constructed these panels often made the most of the pretty striations within the stone, reversing and adjoining panels cut from the same block to make a repeating pattern.

But, here’s the thing.  As I was admiring this wonderful stonework, it suddenly occurred to me that to get the panels to line up the way they do, each panel would have to be very thin, probably only 1 0r 2 cm thick at most, or the pattern would change too much from panel to panel.  So how did they do that in the 6th century AD?  How can you slice very thin and totally flat panels one after another from a big block of stone – with NO power tools?  No carborundum saws, no tungsten/diamond cutters, no lasers.  By hand, but perfectly flat and straight and even.  Eventually, I was so intrigued, I found someone to ask, and the answer astonished me.

Silk.

Twisted strands of silk-worm silk, when held taut and rubbed back and forth across stone, wet, is apparently strong enough and durable enough to cut through marble as if it was cheese.  It takes a lot longer than slicing up a block of cheese, but it’s just as effective.  How clever is that?

In the arcades that surround the massive central prayer space of the great dome Basilica of Hagia Sophia, the walls and pillars are all clade in thin slices of variegated stone.

In the arcades that surround the massive central prayer space of the great dome Basilica of Hagia Sophia, the walls and pillars, and even the floors, are all clad in thin slices of variegated stone.

The upstairs galleries of Hagia Sophia also have marble-lined decorative walls.

The upstairs galleries of Hagia Sophia also have marble-lined decorative walls.

This marble pattern has been created by cutting and then reversing each alternate slice from a single block of marble.

This marble pattern has been created by cutting and then reversing each alternate slice from a single block of marble.

Many other types of stone have also been sliced and mounted on the walls.  The central purple stone is porphyry,.  Purple was a colour reserved only for emperors, so this stone was usually only used for imperial sculptures or for decorating imperial palaces, but this great church was commissioned by the Emperor Justinian, so he would have approved of its use here.

Many other types of stone have also been sliced and mounted on the walls. The central purple stone in this picture is porphyry. Purple was a colour reserved only for emperors, so this stone was usually only used for imperial sculptures or for decorating imperial palaces, but this great church was commissioned by the Emperor Justinian, so he would have approved of its use here.

Some very dramatic patterns can be constructed when the contrasting colours and striations within the stone are so pronounced.

Some very dramatic patterns can be constructed when the contrasting colours and striations within the stone are so pronounced.

Alternating panels of blotchy blue-green and cream-purple stones, with a feature strip of swirly stripes.

Alternating panels of blotchy blue-green and cream-purple stones, with a feature strip of swirly stripes.

The facade of St Mark’s Cathedral in Venice is decorated with similar panels of multi-coloured stone, many of which were stolen from this church in 1204 AD during the disgraceful 4th Crusade.  In some places inside Hagia Sophia, later restoration efforts have replaced some of the missing panels with painted facsimiles, trompe l’oeil illusions that are so well done they are quite hard to pick until you get very close.

Minarets

Like a tall spire on a gothic church, the towers known as ‘minarets’ emerging from, or standing next to, Islamic mosques, provide a focal point of location to the surrounding town or countryside.  But that is not their only function.  In Islam, followers are required to pray at five specific times of the day: dawn, noon, mid-afternoon, sunset, and night. Each mosque has a person called a ‘muezzin’, whose job it is to summon the faithful to prayer at these times.  So that no-one could miss hearing the call, traditionally the muezzin climbed up to the circular gallery of his mosque’s minaret and called out the vocal reminder to all four points of the compass.  These days, of course, the muezzin usually makes the call from inside the mosque and his voice is amplified and broadcast from speakers installed in the minaret gallery.  With all of the no longer necessary climbing up and down the stairs, muezzins in older times were probably a lot fitter than those of today.

For centuries, the Ottoman empire ruled the Islamic world from Constantinople (now the city of Istanbul in modern Turkey), and in Ottoman architecture, the number of minarets a mosque displayed denoted the mosque’s importance.  Most mosques have a single minaret.  Important mosques, such as the New Mosque, or the Suleymaniye, Suleyman the Magnificent’s own mosque, have two.  The great Hagia Sophia, the former centre of the Christian world until the fall of Byzantium, has four minarets.  Near to Hagia Sophia is the superb Sultan Ahmed, better known as the Blue Mosque, and only this mosque, in all of the former Ottoman Empire, has an unprecedented six minarets.

Here is the typical single minaret next to the Küçükayasofya Camii (‘camii’ is Turkish for ‘Mosque), in Istanbul.

The single minaret and the entrance to Kucukayasofya Mosque in Istanbul

The single minaret and the entrance to Kucukayasofya Mosque in Istanbul

The New Mosque, next to the great Spice Bazaar, has two minarets.  Incidentally, the very popular Spice Bazaar complex is owned by the New Mosque and rents from all the shops in the bazaar pay for the maintenance of the mosque.

The pair of minarets outside the New Mosque, near the Galata Bridge in Istanbul

The pair of minarets outside the New Mosque, near the Galata Bridge in Istanbul

Only two of the four minarets that surround Hagia Sophia match each other, because they were added to the former Christian Basilica at three different times.  The first to be built was the red brick minaret (foreground) in the south-east corner, soon after Ottoman Sultan Mehmet II conquered the  Byzantine city in 1453 AD.  The second and more slender stone minaret (on the right) was probably added by Beyazit II, the son of Mehmet II, somewhere around the end of the 15th and the beginning of the 16th centuries.  The great Islamic architect Mimar Sinan built the final pair of minarets (left and behind) while he was adding buttresses and strengthening the foundations of the ancient structure of Hagia Sophia towards the end of the 16th century.

The mighty former Christian church, former Islamic mosque, and now museum known as Holy Wisdom (in English), Hagia Sophia (in Greek), or Ayasofya (in Turkish).

The mighty former Christian church, former Islamic mosque, and now museum known as Holy Wisdom (in English), Hagia Sophia (in Greek), or Ayasofya (in Turkish).

Not only is Sultan Ahmed, the Blue Mosque, the only mosque to have six minarets, each of the minarets has multiple galleries.  Look closely (or click the picture to enlarge it) and you can see the banks of public address speakers facing outwards from most of the galleries.

The magnificent Sultan Ahmed Mosque, better known as the Blue Mosque, with its six minarets.

The magnificent Sultan Ahmed Mosque, better known as the Blue Mosque, with its six minarets.

Christ Pantocrator in the Chora

Between 1315 and 1321, the Greek Orthodox monastery church of St Saviour in Chora was decorated with some of the finest Byzantine mosaics still in existence.

Many earlier mosaics were destroyed by Christian iconoclasts, believers who followed the 2nd Commandment, which prohibited making and worshipping graven images.  Many of the later or surviving mosaics were destroyed by Islamic iconoclasts for the same reason, throughout what was left of the Byzantine empire was taken over by the Ottomans after the fall of Constantinople in 1453.

Soon after Constantinople became an Islamic city, this church, like many others, became a mosque.  For the next 500 years or so, its mosaics were hidden, crumbling and neglected, behind layers of plaster and paint.  In the middle of the 20th century, a restoration project revealed all the surviving decorations, and the church is now a museum.

This subtle and sensitive figure is of a quite benevolent Christ Pantocrator, or Christ Lord of All, holding a book of gospels.  It is over the entrance to the Inner Narthex, which is a sort of lobby, just outside the entrance to the church proper.  Isn’t it superb?

A benign and very detailed image of Christ Lord of All, above the entrance to the Narthex of St Saviour in Chora. Early 14thC

A benign and very detailed image of Christ Lord of All, above the entrance to the Inner Narthex of St Saviour in Chora. Early 14thC

Inside the New Mosque, Istanbul

Leave your shoes at the door, and step onto the thick carpet in just your bare feet.  You are entering a warm and comfortable place, where you are welcome to sit anywhere and just chill out.  Take your time, and admire the beautifully decorated multi-domed space all around you.

Even the bigger Islamic mosques like this one, known as the New Mosque, or the Mosque of the Valide Sultan, are quiet and almost cozy places, even when they are full of other tourists.  And isn’t this one just beautiful inside?

People sitting on the carpet inside the New Mosque in Istanbul

Called the New Mosque, this huge place of worship was started in 1597, and finished in 1663, so it is no longer ‘new’.

One of the four massive pillars that support the central dome in the New Mosque

One of the four massive tiled pillars that support the central dome in the New Mosque

A decorative cornice between the arches of the many peripheral semidomes

A decorative cornice between the arches of the many peripheral semidomes

The beautifully decorated central dome of the New Mosque

The beautifully decorated central dome of the New Mosque

The ring of clerestory windows round the central dome of the New Mosque

The ring of clerestory windows round the central dome of the New Mosque

More from the Blue Mosque

Today I give you a few more of the exquisite decorative details from inside the Blue Mosque in Instanbul, Turkey.   Because… well, just because.

The closer you look, the more you are struck by the enormous variety of visual inventiveness here, and you would think that the range of designs and the profusion of colours would compete with each other.

Yet, as you can see in the wider view which includes one of the interior’s massive supporting pillars, all these discrete elements come together to produce a completely harmonious and beautifully unified whole.  That’s a neat trick.

Another decorative text panel near some stained glass windows inside the Blue Mosque

A decorative text panel, close to a series of patterned windows in the Blue Mosque

Red, blue, and gold intricate patterns on a white ground cover the inside of a dome in the Blue Mosque

Intricate multicoloured decorative patterns fill the inside of one of the smaller domes of the Blue Mosque.

Decorative stained glass windows inside the Blue Mosque

The decorative stained glass windows are a glowing backlit continuation of the kinds of patterns on the surrounding walls

An arabic text panel used as decoration inside the Blue Mosque

Key passages from the Q’uran written in flowing Arabic are one of the important decorative devices used inside Islamic mosques

One of the four massive pillars that support the central dome inside the Blue Mosque

One of the four massive pillars that support the central dome inside the Blue Mosque

 

 

 

Whirling Dervishes

‘Sufism’ is mystical branch of Islam.  A ‘dervish’ is a follower of the Sufi path.  The Whirling Dervishes belong to a Sufi order founded by followers of Rumi, a 13th century theologian.  It is said that Rumi was so filled with happiness one day listening to workers rhythmically chanting “There is no god but Allah” as they worked, that he stretched his arms out and began to spin in a circle.

The circling, whirling, dance that these dervishes perform is part of a serious mystical ceremony that is unique to their order.  They start the ceremony wearing black cloaks that signify the grave, then when they shed these outer garments they slowly circle the floor, wearing white gowns, symbolising death, and tall hats, symbolising a tombstone.  The symbolism of their clothing is macabre, and the dancers are very serious in doing what they do.  But when they start to whirl as well and gradually stretch their arms out, it is quite beautiful to watch, and not at all sad.

Four dervishes remove their cloaks before they begin their whirling ceremony

At the beginning of the ceremony, the dervishes remove their cloaks

A dervish with a tall hat about to start dancing, arms clasped at his chest

When they begin to move they slowly circle the floor with their arms folded

Two dervishes whirling, one with arms outstretched, the other with arms still folded

As they begin to whirl as well as circle, their arms slowly stretch out

Two dervishes whirling at the climax of the ceremony, their arms outstretched.

As they whirl faster their arms outstretch and the movement becomes hypnotic and repetitive

I think the sense of joy that results from performing this ceremony is not so much a mystical gift from Allah, as it is a result of a combination of dizziness and an endorphin high from the vigorous repetitive whirling exercise.  But it does no harm, and I love their hats.  They remind me of Bill & Ben, the Flowerpot Men.

Inside the Blue Mosque, Istanbul

The second of the Old Testament Ten Commandments is a prohibition against idolatry.  It says that the making of a carved image, or any other ‘likeness’ of anything, is strictly forbidden, and so is bowing down and worshipping that iconic image.

From time to time, the Christians have gone through iconoclastic upheavals, tragically destroying most of their artwork, burning all of their figurative depictions of God, Christ, Mary, and everything else because of this commandment.  For the last 1200 years or so, however, they’ve pretty much given up on observing Commandment No.2, and figurative art, including very realistic images of the crucifixion itself, has become a central trapping of that religion.  How Christian believers square that disobedience with their consciences, I’m not sure.

Islam, the third great Abrahamic religion that shares the Old Testament, has always taken this commandment completely literally, and there is no figurative representation at all in any of their mosques or in their scriptures.  But far from limiting their visual imagination and their ability to enhance their places of worship, instead Islam developed a rich tradition of wonderful abstract decoration, much of it centred around elaborate calligraphic contortions of their key texts written in their flowing Arabic script.

Looking up into the domes inside the Blue Mosque, covered in colourful decorative patterns.

The highly decorated interior of the multi-domed main mosque of the Ottoman sultans

Richly decorated detail of the capital of a column and the vaulting above

These intricate patterns often have organic forms derived from nature, but they are careful not to depict specific plants or flowers.

The central boss in the main dome is surrounding by a design based on an Arabic text

The central boss in the main dome is surrounding by a gorgeous design based on an Arabic text

Arabic text from the Q'uran forms a frieze around the top of a massive main column

Arabic text from the Q’uran forms a frieze around the top of a massive main column

I think that the inside of the Blue Mosque in Istanbul, the primary mosque in the Ottoman empire, is sublimely beautiful.  Almost every surface of the walls and domes is covered in intricate colourful designs, surrounding and supporting gold-on-blue calligraphy of verses in the Q’uran glorifying Allah.  So pretty, and so happy.

Rüstem Paşa Mosque, Istanbul

Rüstem Paşa (Pron: Roo-stem Pasha) was the Grand Visier and son-in-law of Ottoman Emperor Sultan Suleiman the Magnificent, in the 16th century.  As Grand Visier, he amassed enormous personal wealth, and he commissioned this very lovely mosque for himself, which is rightly famous for its Iznik tile decoration.

Interior of Rüstem Paşa Mosque, Istanbul

Interior of Rüstem Paşa Mosque, Istanbul

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

Iznik tiles from Rüstem Paşa mosque

The town of Iznik in Turkey (originally named Nicaea), was a long established centre for glazed pottery.  The Ottoman court was very fond of Chinese blue and white porcelain, and in the 15th century, Iznik began to produce similar high quality pottery with cobalt blue decoration under a clear glaze.  By the time this mosque was built, the range of tile patterns had become vast and several other colours had been added, such as turquoise and a bold red.  

Rüstem Paşa spared no expense in decorating his mosque, and there are dozens and dozens of panels of different patterns on most of the interior surfaces, more than in any other mosque of that time.

Aren’t these tiles just beautiful?  Iznik is still famous for its pottery, and it still produces tileware and crockery with these types of traditional designs.

Little Hagia Sofia

If you are familiar with the cold intimidating echoing liveliness of Christian cathedrals, where everyone is trying hard not to make their shoes squeak or clatter on the stone flag floors, and trying to keep their conversations to a whisper, it’s quite a shock to walk into a famous Islamic mosque like this one, and find that it is warm, carpeted, acoustically deadened, and very homely and welcoming.

Originally dedicated to Sts Sergius and Bacchus in the 6thC, this beautiful church was converted into a mosque in the 15thC

Originally dedicated to Sts Sergius and Bacchus in the 6thC, this beautiful church was converted into a mosque in the 15thC

This is Kucuk Aya Sofya (‘Little Hagia Sofia’ in Turkish) in Istanbul, a compact little church that was commissioned by Emperor Justinian early in the 6th century AD supposedly as a model for the gigantic Aya Sofya (Hagia Sofia – Holy Wisdom) basilica that was built very soon afterwards up the road.  Originally a Roman/Greek Eastern Empire Christian Church, dedicated to Saints Sergius and Bacchus, it became a mosque after the Ottoman takeover of Byzantium in 1453, and it still is in use as a mosque to this day.

The structure of it is very old, and it is now a sweet and quite beautiful mix of old Christian Orthodox, and much later Islamic decorations and texts, working side by side.  I have many more images from this church, which I will share with you in later posts.