How to Study Architecture, Charles H. Caffin [best manga ereader .TXT] 📗

Abutting on the east and west arches of this central mass are semi-domes, supported upon the central piers and two others. And from these project, as in S. Sergius and S. Vitale, small semicircular domes, sustained by an upper and lower story of arcades. Thus was created a vast oval-ended hall, 267 feet long by 107, from every part of which the summit of the dome is visible.

Outside this central feature are two side-aisles, each having two stories, separated from the nave by arcading and formed of a series of columns and vaulting. As in all Early Christian and Byzantine churches which have upper and lower galleries, the former were occupied by women worshippers. The outer walls on the north and south sides, as the plan shows, are reinforced by immense buttresses, 25 feet wide and 75 long, which appear on the outside of the buildings like huge pylons. On the inside they are pierced with arches on each story. These buttresses withstand the thrust of the dome which is reinforced on the east and west by the semi-domes.

The edifice, which occupies practically a square, is approached on the west side by a narthex of magnificent proportions, 200 feet long by 30 wide, which is divided like the aisles into an upper and lower story. So far “the plan resembles that of S. Sergius, if the latter were cut in half and a dome on pendentives inserted over the intervening square and the whole doubled in size.” In front of the narthex, however, extends a second one, opening, as in some of the basilican churches, into an atrium.

The exterior walls are faced with alternate courses of brick and stone and the domes, all of which are visible, are covered with a sheathing of lead.

S. Mark’s, Venice.—S. Sophia is a marvel not only of construction but also of unity of design. It is in this respect, among others, that it is superior to S. Mark’s in Venice, which was erected by Byzantine builders at the end of the eleventh century. Venice, like Ravenna, was in close touch with Constantinople and when she determined to build a cathedral to her patron saint, to replace an earlier basilican church destroyed by fire, it was natural that she should look to that city for the character of the design as well as for artists and artisans to execute it. The actual model was the Church of the Holy Apostles, in Constantinople, founded by Constantine, rebuilt by Justinian, and destroyed by the Turks in 1463 to make room for the mosque of Sultan Mahomet II.

The plan is a Greek cross, that is to say, a cross with the four parts of practically equal length, grouped around a central square. Each of the five divisions is crowned by a dome, supported on pendentives and reinforced by transverse barrel vaults. The transept and choir domes are slightly smaller than the ones over the crossing and the nave, because of the restrictions of space caused by the chapel of S. Isadore in the north transept, the Ducal Palace on the south, and the retention of the apse of the ancient basilica. Originally all the domes were sheathed externally with lead, but at a later date were covered with the lead-sheathed wooden lanterns now existing. With their high-pitched curves and ornamental terminals they represent a serious deviation from the true Byzantine style.

A similar departure from the latter is exhibited in the west façade. This was completed in the fifteenth century and involves a curious mixture of Orientalism and fanciful Gothic with features, such as the clusters of columns in two tiers, flanking the five entrances, which serve no structural purpose and have no architectural justification. They are purely picturesque. But S. Mark’s was the city’s shrine, to which each succeeding century added some embellishment and often with more zeal than discretion.

It is the interior rather that commands our admiration. For notwithstanding certain distractions, even here, of later debased styles of mosaic, enough of the tenth and eleventh century embellishments remain to dignify the decoration. And in no other building in the world is there so marvellous an ensemble of coloured marbles, alabaster, and glass mosaics; or such subtleties, delicacies, and complexities of light and shadow.

Greece and Russia.—In Greece and Russia the Byzantine has continued to be the official style of the Greek Church. In Russia, however, many fantastic elements have been introduced, particularly the bulbous form of the domes.

As an example of domestic Byzantine architecture may be mentioned the Monastery of Mount Athos on a promontory of Saloniki, overlooking the Ægean Sea.

“In Armenia are also interesting examples of late Armeno-Byzantine architecture, showing applications to exterior carved detail of elaborate interlaced ornament, looking like a re-echo of Celtic M.SS. illumination, itself, no doubt, originating in Byzantine traditions.” (Hamlin.)

The introduction at this point of Muhammedan or Saracenic architecture unfortunately breaks the continuity of the evolution of Early Christian and Byzantine architecture into the Romanesque and thence into the Gothic. Accordingly, some writers reserve this chapter until the end of their book, treating it as an independent interlude.

That method, on the other hand, has the disadvantage of not giving the subject its proper place in the sequence of history; and since an important motive of the present volume is to represent the growth of architecture as the product of changing conditions of civilisation, it seems more in accordance with this aim to let the conditions govern the order in which the architectural phases are presented. So, in the inevitable choice between two evils of arrangement we will select that which, from our point of view, seems to be the least.

For it is true that Muhammedan or Saracenic civilisation represents but an interlude in the progress of Christian civilisation. What, however, would have been the outcome, if Charles Martel, in 732, had not crushed the advance of the Muhammedans into France? They might have fastened upon the latter as they had upon Spain, the north of Africa, Egypt, Syria. From France they might have descended upon Italy, and gradually drawn tighter the circle of their conquest until the Western as well as the Eastern Empire was entirely in their grasp. It needs but a little effort of imagination to realise that on the issue of the battle of Poictiers hung the fortunes of Europe; the survival of European civilisation and possibly the continuance of Christianity.

In fact, what was trembling in the balance was the extension of a new and vigorous power over a social order that, except in the Frankish kingdom, had grown more and more disintegrated and feeble. For in the decline of Rome even her conquerors had been involved; the various other Gothic nations in adapting the decay of her system had been corrupted by it. The only unifying and uplifting force that glimmered amid the general prostration was that of the Church, which might have been engulfed in Islamism if the Franks had not prevailed at Poictiers.

For in the present day we associate Islamism with the unprogressive nations, whereas in the eighth century it was the symbol of progressiveness. Its spiritual ideal was, at least, as high as that of Christianity; while its intellectual and material ideals were superior to those of Europe.

Shall we speak of Saracenic civilisation or Saracenic architecture as some do, or follow the example of others who substitute the term Muhammedan? The former word was probably derived from the Latin Saraceni, which was employed by the Romans to designate the Bedouins who roamed a part of the Syro-Arabian desert, and committed depredations on the frontier of the Empire. In the Middle Ages Saracen came to be used as a general term for Moslems, especially those who had penetrated into Spain. This latter use is too narrow, while the general use conveys no meaning.

Muhammedan, on the other hand, implies a follower of Muhammed or Mahomet, and it was the oneness of faith that first united the Arab tribesmen and in time gave a uniformity of ideal to their spread of conquest from the Pillars of Hercules to Northern India. While the character of the civilisation varied throughout this vast empire, being coloured by local and racial characteristics that reacted on the styles of architecture, it was everywhere impregnated with one belief. There is no god but Allah and Muhammed is his prophet.

Muhammed was born about 570 in Mecca, in the Arabian peninsula; a place hitherto of little importance, which had a cube-shaped sanctuary, the Kaaba, enshrining a Black Stone. It was the token or fetish of some god of nature; for some kind of nature worship, including the worship of the Sun, Moon, and Earth seems to have been the traditional religion of Arabia. Meanwhile, Judaism had penetrated into the country and Christianity had followed. Each figured in Muhammed’s imagination as a world religion. Both professed one God. One had its prophets; the other, its Messiah, and both its book of inspired revelation.

Accordingly, when the vision of Muhammed embraced the idea of founding at once a new nation and a new religion, he borrowed from both Judaism and Christianity and proclaimed himself the new prophet or Messiah of the one God and made known the New Revelation, which was embodied in the Koran. The faith of Islam, as preached by Muhammed and practised by him and his followers, was essentially one of proselytising by force. “The sword,” he taught, “is the key of Heaven and Hell. A drop of blood shed in the cause of God, a night spent in arms, avails more than two months of fasting and prayer. Whoso falls in battle his sins are forgiven. At the Day of Judgment his wounds shall be resplendent with vermilion and odoriferous as musk, and the loss of limbs shall be supplied by angels’ wings.”

Muhammed’s self-imposed task of subjugating and uniting Arabia for the Arabians was begun after his flight from Mecca to Medina, the celebrated Hejira (Arab hijra) which occurred on the Jewish Day of Atonement, Sept. 30, A.D. 622. The further work of conquering the countries on which the Arab tribes had been dependent, Syria, Abyssinia, Persia, was continued by his followers.

Of great importance in the history of architecture was the conquest of Persia (632-651), for here the Muhammedan influence developed a style that was distinguished by fine structural as well as aesthetic qualities and generally developed a beautiful revival of the various arts of decorative design. And it was Persian Muhammedan that strongly influenced the architecture of India, where Muhammedan conquest was established about A.D. 1000.

Meanwhile, the Arabic Muhammedans had founded a dynasty under the Ommayads with its capital in Damascus and a later one under the Abassids, whose most celebrated caliph was Haroun-el-Raschid of Bagdad, made famous by the “Thousand and One Nights.” Conquest was extended westward, gradually comprising Egypt, the north of Africa, Sicily, and Spain.

In 1453 the Crescent displaced the Cross in Constantinople.

Yet, notwithstanding the divisions of the Muhammedans and the immense distances separating them, a unity not only religious but also intellectual was maintained. The Muhammedans learned rapidly from the peoples they conquered and established for the diffusion of learning a sort of university system of travelling scholarships. Aided by Arabic as the universal language of learning, students journeyed from teacher to teacher, from the Atlantic to Samarcand, gathering hundreds of certificates. The education was designed to turn out theologians and lawyers; but theology included studies in metaphysics and logic, and the canon law required a knowledge of arithmetic, mensuration, and practical astronomy.

Technical education was maintained by gilds who perpetuated the “mysteries” of the craft through a system of apprenticeships. And it is to be noted that there was no distinction made between so-called