Strolling Through Istanbul: The Classic Guide to the City (9 page)

We now enter the narthex, a long vestibule of nine vaulted bays. Five great doors on the left lead to the exonarthex and nine on the right give entrance to the nave. Many of these doors are splendid and interesting and most of them appear to date from the time of Justinian. The monumental central door to the nave was known anciently as the Imperial Gate. The frame of the door is covered with brass, replacing the silver with which it was sheathed in the days of Justinian, and is surmounted by a casket-like cornice in brass. According to an old Byzantine legend, the doors of the Imperial Gate were made of wood which had originally been part of Noah’s Ark and the cornice was the sarcophagus of St. Eirene.

In the lunette above the Imperial Gate we see the second of the two mosaics which were uncovered in 1933. The mosaic shows Christ seated upon a jewelled throne, his feet resting on a footstool. He raises his right hand in a gesture of blessing, and in his left he holds a book in which we may read this inscription in Greek: “Peace be with you. I am the Light of the World.” On Christ’s right an emperor prostrates himself, his hands outstretched in supplication. Above, on either side of the throne, are two roundels: the one above the emperor containing a bust of the Blessed Virgin; that on the other side, an angel carrying a staff or wand. It is thought that the imperial figure represents the Emperor Leo VI, the Wise, and the mosaic is dated to the period of his reign, 886–912. If so, it is probable that the Emperor is pleading with Christ to forgive him for what Gibbon so aptly called “the frequency of his nuptials.” For the Emperor had lost his first three wives without producing a male heir, and wished to take a fourth mate, ordinarily forbidden by the Orthodox Church. After a long and bitter dispute, the famous Scandal of the Tetragamy, Leo finally obtained permission to marry his mistress, Zoe, and legitimized his bastard son, the future Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus. Although the affair of the Tetragamy may have scandalized Byzantium, we are fortunate that it was resolved in Leo’s favour. For his son Constantine would later write the
Book of Ceremonies
, which recreates the pomp and splendour of the rituals and liturgies performed in Haghia Sophia in the days of Byzantium.

The Imperial Gate was reserved for the use of the Emperor and his procession, which passed through there into the nave of the church. According to the
Book of Ceremonies
: “The princes remove their crowns, kiss the holy Gospel carried by the archdeacon, greet the patriarch and proceed to the Imperial Gate. Bearing the candles and bowing thrice, they enter the church after a prayer is pronounced by the patriarch.”

As we walk through the Imperial Gate into the nave, we notice the deep hollows worn into the pavement on either side of the entrance. We learn from the
Book of Ceremonies
that in the days of Byzantium the imperial chamberlains called
praepositii
stood there, and we are reminded once again of the great antiquity of this place.

The first and abiding impression created by the interior of Haghia Sophia is that of a vast contained space, pierced by shafts of moted sunlight. Walking forward, we can now see the whole of the immense interior at once and appreciate its beauty and its grandeur: the fabled dome, which the ancients pictured as being suspended from heaven by a golden chain; the enormous expanse of the nave, its central area flanked by the graceful two-tiered colonnade which Procopius likened to a line of dancers in a chorus; all elements of the vast structure interrelated in perfect harmony.

Justinian and his architects, Anthemius and Isidorus, chose to disregard the plan or the earlier churches on this site and, indeed, all earlier plans of which any trace or record has come down to us. The essential structure of their astonishingly original building can be briefly described. Four enormous and irregularly shaped piers, built of ashlar stone bound together with lead, stand in a square approximately 31 metres on a side. From these piers rise four great arches between which four pendentives make the transition from square to circle. Upon the cornice of the circle so formed rests the slightly elliptical dome, of which the east-west diameter is about 31 metres, the north-south diameter about 33 metres, the crown being 56 metres above the floor – that is, about the height of a 15-storey building. The dome has 40 ribs which radiate out from the crown, separated at the base by 40 windows, of which four towards the west were blocked up during repairs in the tenth century. To east and west, pairs of subsidiary piers support the two great semidomes, each with five windows, which give the nave its vast length, a full 80 metres. The central arches to north and south are filled with tympanum walls pierced by 12 windows, seven in the lower row, five in the upper, of which the three central ones originally formed a kind of triple arcade. All these windows have in Turkish times been considerably reduced in size, probably by the architect Sinan in the sixteenth century. Between the great piers on the north and south, four monolithic columns of verd antique support the galleries, while above six columns of the same type carry the tympana. At the eastern and western ends, to north and south, semicircular exedrae prolong the nave, with two massive monolithic columns of porphyry below and six of verd antique above, on which rest smaller semidomes. At the east, beyond the subsidiary piers, a semicircular apse projects beyond the east wall; it too is covered by a semidome or conch. Finally, four great buttresses projecting from the north and south walls opposite the central piers help to consolidate the whole fabric.

If the plan is to all intents and purposes that of a basilica, the originality consists in covering it with a dome and two semidomes. Glorious as is the dome, it is the introduction of the semidomes which constitutes the real triumph of genius. For in addition to lengthening the nave, they make it possible to appreciate from the very threshold the soaring, hovering height; they allow the dome, in short, to play its true and full part in the total effect. Contrast the relative ineffectiveness of such a dome as that of St. Peter’s, from which radiate barrel-vaults along the axes of the building. That dome, though higher and somewhat greater in diameter than Haghia Sophia’s, is almost insignificant, for it can only be seen when one is very nearly underneath it, so that one must crane back one’s neck to get a view of it at all. How very different here, where from every point of view the dome dominates the whole interior!

THE COLUMNS AND MARBLES

Much has been written about the provenance of the various columns in the church. The Anonymous of Banduri, that Baron Munchausen among Byzantine writers, is the chief source of various legends that have grown up and are still repeated about where the great columns of the nave came from: the Temple of the Sun at Heliopolis, some buildings at Rome, the Temple of Diana at Ephesus, or one of those at Baalbec, the tales differ with the tellers. But there seems to be no foundation for these stories and there is every reason to believe that most of the columns, if not all, were specially quarried for Haghia Sophia. From the Silentiary’s description, there can be little doubt that the eight monolithic verd antique columns of the nave, the 16 columns of the aisles, the 40 columns of the gallery arcade, and all the other verd antique of the building were expressly hewn for Haghia Sophia from the famous quarries in Thessaly near Molossis. But about the eight porphyry columns in the exedrae, there is a problem, for there is some evidence that the porphyry mountain at Djebel Dochan near Thebes had ceased to be quarried in the fifth century. If this is true, the eight exedra columns – which, by the way, differ very appreciably in height and diameter – must have been taken from some older building. But there is no evidence to connect them to any particular ancient building; we simply do not know where they came from.

The only other kind of marble used for columns in the church is that from the island of Proconnesus in the Marmara. It is a soft white, streaked with grey or black, and is used for the 24 aisle columns of the gallery and the eight rectangular pillars at the ends of the ground floor aisles. The floor of the church, too, the frames of doors and windows, and parts of the wall surfaces are also of this marble. It is very common to this day in Istanbul, and is used for everything from tombstones to toilets.

For the superb revetment of the piers and walls, a great variety of rare and beautiful marbles was used. Besides those already discussed, the Silentiary mentions at least eight different varieties: the deep green porphyry from Mount Taygetus near Sparta; a “fresh green” from Carystus in the island of Euboea; the rose-red Phyrygian marble from Synnada and a variegated one from Hierapolis in Asia Minor; “Iassian, with slanting veins of blood red on livid white,” probably from Lacedaemon; a marble “of crocus yellow glittering like gold,” from Simittu Colonia near Tunis; and one from the Pyrenees, “the product of the Celtic crags, like milk poured on a flesh of glittering black”; and finally the precious onyx, like alabaster honey-coloured and translucent. In order to obtain the elaborate symmetrical patterns of each panel, the thin blocks of marble were sawn in two, sometimes in four, and opened out like a book so that the natural veining of the stone was reduplicated, very much like the ink blots of a Rorschach test. And spectators, both ancient and modern, respond as patients do to the Rorschach test by finding in the veined panels likenesses of men and animals, devils and angels, giving form to the ghosts and legends which attach themselves to every stone of this ancient building.

Other types of decoration in rare marbles are also found in the church. The great square of
opus Alexandrinum
in the pavement towards the south-east of the nave always attracts attention. It is chiefly composed of circles of granite, red and green porphyry and verd antique. According to Antony, Bishop of Novgorod, who visited the church in 1200, the Emperor’s throne stood upon this square, surrounded by a bronze enclosure. There are some equally interesting marble panels above the imperial door: slabs of verd antique alternate with inlaid panels of various marbles. At the top is an elaborate ciborium with drawn curtains revealing a cross on an altar; lower down are other panels with ovals of porphyry, those at the bottom surrounded by pairs of stylized dolphins with foliate tails gobbling up tiny squid with waving tentacles. Finally, in the spandrels above the nave and gallery arcades is a rich and magnificent frieze of sectile work with scrolls of leaves and flowers, and birds “perched on the twigs”.

The capitals of the columns are famous and splendid. There are several different types, but all are alike in having the surface decoration of acanthus and palm foliage deeply undercut so that they produce an effect of white lace on a dark ground; it is possible that they were once gilded. The commonest of the capitals – those of the nave and gallery arcades – are generally known as the bowl type: Ionic volutes support a decorated abacus beneath which the bowl-shaped body of the capital is adorned with acanthus leaves, in the centre of which in front and back is a medallion containing a monogram. These monograms are extremely tricky to read, but when deciphered they give the names Justinian and Theodora and the titles Basileus and Augusta. The capitals of the 16 verd antique columns of the aisles are of similar type but smaller in scale. Those of the eight rectangular pillars at the ends of the aisles are closely related, only here the bowl, instead of becoming circular towards its base, remains square throughout since the column itself is square. One of these rectangular pillars, the north-west one in the north aisle, is the subject of ancient legend. Antony of Novgorod reports it thus: “One sees at the side the column of St. Gregory the Miracle-Worker, all covered with bronze plates. St. Gregory appeared near this column, and the people kiss it and rub their breasts and shoulders against it to be cured of their pains.” Centuries of credulous pilgrims have worn a hole in the metal plate and into the column itself, for the moisture contained in the cavity has always been considered specific against eye diseases and a nostrum for fertility. It is often said that the moisture in this little hole is drawn up through the column from the cisterns supposed to be under the church. But these cisterns are themselves a legend, for a recent study has shown that they do not exist.

THE MOSAICS IN THE NAVE

Little now remains of the mosaics which once adorned the nave of Haghia Sophia. The largest and most beautiful of those which have survived is contained in the conch of the apse. This mosaic depicts the Mother of God with the Christ-Child on her knees; she is dressed in flowing robes of blue with a small cross on the fold of the mantle over her head and one on each shoulder; her right hand rests on the Child’s shoulder and her left upon his knee. The Child is dressed in gold and wears sandals on his feet; his right hand is raised in blessing while his left holds a scroll. The Virgin sits on a simple bench-like throne adorned with jewels; under her are two cushions, the lower green, the upper embroidered with clubs like those on playing cards; beneath her feet is a plinth-like footstool, also bejewelled. At the bottom of the arch which frames the apse we see a colossal figure of the Archangel Gabriel; he wears a divitision, or undergarment, over which is thrown a chlamys, or cloak of white silk; his great wings, reaching nearly to his feet, are of brightly-coloured feathers, chiefly green, blue and white. In his right hand he holds a staff, in his left a crystal globe through which can be seen his thumb. Although the upper part of his left side and the top of his right wing are lost, he is nevertheless a fine and striking figure. Opposite, on the north side of the arch, can be seen only a few sad feathers of the wings of the Archangel Michael. Finally, on the face of the apse conch we read the first three and the last nine letters of an inscription in Greek, of which the whole of the middle part is now missing. The inscription was an iambic distich which once read in full: “These icons the deceivers once cast down / The pious emperors have again restored.” The apse mosaic was first unveiled by the Patriarch Photius on Easter Sunday in the year 867: a most momentous occasion, for it signified the final triumph of the Orthodox over the Iconoclasts, and celebrated the permanent restoration of sacred images to the churches of Byzantium. The two pious sovereigns referred to here are Michael III, the Sot, and his protege, Basil I, whom Michael had made co-emperor the previous May, and who would the following September murder his benefactor and usurp the throne for himself.