With the Basilica Cisterns behind us, Denise and I wandered into the streets to the west of the Hippodrome and the Hagia Sophia. As we headed towards the mosaic museum we observed numerous rug makers, who were handcrafting beautiful rugs in the shop windows for all spectators to see. Incidentally, the streets were barren, which made us stand out even more than we already did. The unoccupied shopkeepers were on to us. They all made sure that our attention was directed towards them and their high quality rugs. We were eventually suckered into one of the shops, taken to the back, and shown five different styles of rugs. We learned how to tell the difference between the real silk and fake Chinese knockoffs. We were encouraged to feel the cotton, then the wool types. Then, we were shown the different patterns, sizes/thread counts, and uses for each of the rugs. The only issue was that no matter how much he showed us, and no matter how much he educated us, the rugs were still astronomically expensive and large. We politely asked for his card (incase we had a change of heart), and continued down the street.
Just to the side of the Blue Mosque is the mosaic museum. It happened to be closed for the day. Rats. No matter though, that basically bought us more time at our next stop on the list: the Saint Savior Church in Chora.
We hopped into a cab with a driver that spoke no English and said, “Kariye Camii”. A couple nods were exchanged and we embarked towards the sixth hill of Constantinople.
Driving down one of the branches of the old Mese, it was hard to focus on the Byzantine places that we were passing because the driving method in these parts of the world demanded everyone’s complete attention – whether you liked it or not.
Driving is actually an amazing phenomenon here. Back home, or 'in the west', where rules are implemented and strictly followed, fatal accidents happen like clockwork. Elsewhere in the world, where we westerners think that the driving style is more eccentric, accidents are actually quite rare. The difference lies in the driver's awareness of their surroundings. The westerner is taught to drive defensively, to think for the safety of him or herself. But let’s be honest, this rarely happens. Everybody else in the world does drive defensively because they are forced to. Most drivers out there in the world are incredibly erratic. Therefore, everyone else in the world is attune to the fact that driving is a very dangerous activity, which ultimately engenders him or her to be able to attentively read/maneuver through all sorts of, if not all, driving situations.
Within a matter of minutes we arrived at the church with no problem.
Now, about this surviving Byzantine gem:
In Colin Wells’ book entitled, "Sailing from Byzantium", he outlines how the disintegrating Byzantine Empire culturally prepared itself over its final centuries to survive beyond its impending physical demise. The illumination of texts, influence in architecture, diffusion of Orthodoxy, and political marriages with neighboring countries (especially with burgeoning Russia) are just some examples of how the Eastern Roman Empire fastened itself within other cultures when the actual empire was physically unraveling into despotates (such as Morea), and a smaller “empire” called Trebizond.
The last dynasty of the Byzantine Empire, The Palaeologian Dynasty, may have overlooked the final days of Constantinople, but their legacy, as well as that of Byzantium in general, has resided practically everywhere since then.
Just to name a few off the top of my head:
• Russia has a double headed eagle on their coat of arms for a reason. Look it up. Moscow, otherwise known as, “The Third Rome”.
• The Renaissance can be traced directly back to Byzantium.
• The Greek Orthodox Church has numerous Palaeologian influences. The most obvious of which is the use of the double headed eagle on its coat of arms.
• The concept of a hospital, as in a place not to die in or be treated for military wounds, is a uniquely Byzantine concoction.
• Architecturally, the Hagia Sophia, as I have discussed in previous entries, reverberates strongly with Islamic mosques.
• In Edward N. Luttwak’s book, "The Grand Strategy of the Byzantine Empire", he talks about the Byzantine method of diplomacy, which closely resonates in many ways with American diplomatic policy.
Saint Savior in Chora was a site that adheres comfortably with the second bullet point I just listed. For some reason, the Church in Chora was spared during the siege of 1453, which makes it a marvel to witness; it is a literal window into the 14th century. Mostly all of the mosaics are somewhat intact and there is no evidence of them being plastered over like those in the Hagia Sophia. Really, the only evidence of Turkish influence is the lone minaret, awkwardly slapped onto a corner outside.
The beginning of Colin Wells’ book starts off with the significance of Chora and its patron, Metochites, who oversaw the renovation of 1315-21AD. He claims that between the artwork being done at the Chora and the Arena Chapel in Padua, Italy (done around the same time), “… art historians have suggested that they share a common humanistic aesthetic… Some have traced this interest back to Byzantium, to the period of innovation in Byzantine art that culminated in the Chora and that helped spark the artistic revolution to follow in the West.” In a sense, Denise and I were looking at the seminal influence that woke the sleeping artistic beast in the West!
An Apostle Holds the Gospel
How cool is that?! I would say, “Pretty darn cool, John”.
On top of that, Metochites is also viewed as a grandfather of the Renaissance in yet another way. After the renovation, he donated his entire personal library to the church for the monks (it was a monastery at the time) to use. He was essentially promoting the humanities because those titles were more than just liturgical works. Wells’ claims that, “The heirs of Metochites were the Byzantine Humanists that formed an alliance with the Western Humanists in Italy, which brought forth the Renaissance.”
There you have it.
The place in which Denise and I were now standing in can be viewed at the match head that ignited the spark. We may not be able to see the library of Metochites or the monastic compound that produced those Byzantine Humanists, but the mosaic artwork that is embedded into those cold walls is certainly the same artwork that had embedded itself deep into the foundation of the Renaissance.
An Incredible Gold Mosaic
We spent a long time trying to capture pictures throughout the entire church. No use of flash, of course. By the time we were satiated from the brilliant mosaic mastery, the sun was beginning to recede over the megopolis. It was late in the day and we still had one more Byzantine ghost to witness up close: the Theodosian Walls.
No more than a five minute walk up from Chora, the Theodosian Walls stood before us as they have since Theodosius II constructed them at the beginning of the 5th century; Opus Mixtum and all. Seeing how we were extremely exhausted by now, we were determined to make this a short hike. Using the map of the walls that I had in my memory (see previous journal entry “Byzantium; Day 1.3, Towers and Cisterns”, for an explanation about the use of maps), I thought that we would follow them northbound until they stopped at the Golden Horn. Once there we would take a cab back to Taksim and pass out from exhaustion at the Hotel Not Worth Mentioning.
Segment of Theodosian Walls
Naturally, one would think that there would be a path of some sort that would lead along the walls. Well, there was one, but it did not last for very long. It stopped at just about the same point where the hills became more severe and the houses started to be built into the actual walls. This was fine, until we could not see the walls any longer. The streets were so meandrous and the buildings so lofty, that this ‘fun exploration’ was about to become a mad dash to find an exit for the sake of our survival. It was a race against the sun, and we were definitely in a neighborhood that was watching every move we made. Staying as close as we could determine to the walls, we found them exposed again further up being used as a back boundary to a park. They opened up to a nicely preserved face of a building, once known as the Blachernae. This palace was built sometime in the 6th century and used as a imperial residence under the Palaeologian dynasty (1261-1453AD). Now resting as a empty shell attached to the walls, this find was a hugely significant landmark to happen upon. It was used as a summer palace for most emperors, but it gained notoriety both during the end of the Fourth Crusade and the at final siege of 1453AD when it was the first spot along the walls to be breached. It is hard to imagine now, but it was reported that the palace was once to be of such beauty that foreign visitors could find no words to describe it. Apparently Constantinople was brimming with buildings of immense beauty.
Blachernae
Blachernae is also believed to be the location of the horrid Anemas Dungeon. This was where emperors such as John V have mutilated potential threats to the throne (his own son and grandson) and also where Andronikos the Terrible (1181-85AD) was tortured before he was, “…put upon an a mangy camel among taunting crowds to the Hippodrome, where he was strung upside down between two columns and slaughtered.”
At the time I did not know that we had stumbled upon Blachernae. I knew it was obviously something, so I took some pictures (enough to be able to do some research on it later), and we continued northward towards the Golden Horn.
Having no idea how long it would take, I could sense that we needed to get back as soon as possible. The mangled layout of streets was becoming a nuisance. As we winded down the sixth hill we caught up to… tourists? There was a couple that had just been hiking around the neighborhood all afternoon. They too were lost. They also had no idea that they were near the Theodosian Walls… nor did they know anything about the Theodosian Walls. I was appalled. Though challenging, I kept my thoughts and comments to myself. Determining that it would be better to stick together we walked down to the Golden Horn as a group.
They were from New York and were staying through Friday. That’s all I remember about them.
Arriving on Ayvansaray Caddesi, we grabbed the first cab we saw roll our way. The guy was really nice. Half way back to Taksim I notice why. He cleverly used his taxi fare meter as a timer, not as a fare gauge. So by now on the drive we were subject to any price he demanded. After we practically paid triple what the ride was actually worth, we hiked up the small hill to Hotel Not Worth Mentioning.
We did it. The plan was complete. Denise could return to the States having had a thorough introduction to the Byzantine Constantinople.
It had been an extremely long day/night-before, but it was not over. It was the last night that the five of us were going to be together so we decided to go out for dinner. All of us were experiencing varying degrees of delirium by this point so we settled for anything we could find on Istiklal Caddesi. We ended up at a place that specialized in cuisine from Antioch. It was typical Eastern Mediterranean: kabob, humus, salad of sorts, etc. The owner was very creepy and kept "charming" up the girls I was with by calling them angels, etc. Eventually he wanted to know my name because I was so lucky to be with so many girls. I shook his hand and said, “Ralph. Pleasure to meet you”.
That became my alias throughout the rest of my stay in Istanbul. I’m sure he did not tell me his real name either. At any rate, as good as the food was, we were severely swindled on the pricing of the meal. It cost around five-times more than it should have.
As we walked back the group splintered apart. Some wanted to shop at some scarf place along the way back while the rest of us kept walking to the hotel. Denise went to get some water so she fell behind as well. I continued to my room, laid down on the bed, blasted the air conditioning and fell asleep.
9pm.
Phone rings. I fumble to the phone in pitch black darkness. I received a phone call from the States that night. Raoul Hotchandani and Anand Manohara called to say hi. Perfect. What a good note to end the day.
Good night.
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