Istanbul (June, 2022): still in a class by itself (Part 2: Hagia Sophia + the Sülemaniye)

            The next morning, Sunday, we walked up the hill to join the tour group in the Hippodrome, the site of the huge medieval stadium dedicated to chariot races, the favorite spectator sport of the time. The hillside area below the Sultanahmet Mosque, once home to the Great Palace of the Byzantine emperors, has now developed as a touristic center with modest homes converted into boutique hotels, tourist restaurants and shops, and travel agencies. 

            But traditions continue, like itinerant sellers of simit (bread rings with sesame seeds).

            The hippodrome area has been repaved since I was last here.  It now looks like a generic plaza anywhere, except of course for the extraordinary monuments that still survive from the spina (the central line) of the race track.

            The granite obelisk from Egypt (15th c. BC) and its limestone base, carved with images of the emperor Theodosius I at the hippodrome races (392 AD), are awesome.  

            The Serpent Column from Delphi (479 BC) is being restored.  The upper part of one of the serpent heads is on display in the renovated galleries upstairs in the Archaeology Museum.  Why don’t they move the column indoors, too?  It surely deserves better protection. 

            After our extended visit here, we went over to the Hagia Sophia.  This venerable building, a church for 900 years, a mosque for 500 years, a museum for 85 years (1935-2020), is now serving once again as a mosque.

            No need to buy entrance tickets, since entry to mosques is free.  The security check was desultory.  When we arrived, midday prayers were about to start.  

The şadırvan, a fountain for ritual ablutions before prayers.  

The building was crowded with both worshippers and tourists.  

Guards made sure tourists did not infringe on the worshippers in the front part of the main room. 

            The big difference now is the vast turquoise-colored carpet that covers the floor of the nave, everywhere apart from the cut-out that exposes the square of opus Alexandrinum, circles of granite and other colored stones, perhaps a place where the Byzantine emperor’s throne was placed.  Light fixtures, big circles with lamps, hang low.  But the dome is now completely visible, free from the scaffolding used for conservation in recent decades.

            What about the figural art from Christian times?  The apse mosaic of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus is partially covered with white drapes. 

Mosaics in other spaces are exposed: the seated Jesus and the prostrate emperor Leo VI in the inner narthex above the main door into the nave, and Constantine and Justinian above the entrance into the inner narthex. 

Leo VI (left) and the seated Jesus 

            The gallery is completely closed to visitors, unfortunately.  From the middle of the nave I looked up and could see that the two major imperial panels (Constantine IX and Zoe; John II Comnenus and Irene) are uncovered. 

            After the prayers were over, we were able to walk around even in the front sections of the nave and side aisles.  It was a surprise, though, to see an older man – an imam? – teaching younger men, all seated on the carpet.  I felt I was in a bygone century.

            It was curious to see this building, which I have visited countless times, in its new incarnation as a mosque.  But that’s how it is now.  With the gallery closed, it will be more difficult for teachers and guides to explain the architecture and the art works.  What I don’t know is what the new arrangements are for conservation.  After all, the Hagia Sophia is almost 1,500 years old.  Attention to its well-being is constantly needed. 

            Our last stop of the day was another mosque, the Sülemaniye, the mosque of Suleiman the Magnificent (1550s), the work of Sinan, the leading Ottoman architect of the time.  This grand, noble building sits serenely amidst beautiful gardens.  Worshippers and visitors come and go, of course, but tourist hype is absent, there are no jostling crowds. 

            But first, before the visit, we needed lunch, even though it was by now 4:00 pm.  Across the street is Erzincanlı Ali Baba, a restaurant famous for its kuru fasulye (white beans in tomato sauce), served with rice pilaf and, perhaps, yogurt or ayran (a slightly salty plain yogurt drink).  

All 30+ of us were promptly and impeccably served by a team of attentive waiters.

            Once inside the mosque, a conservator explained the recent restoration of the decorative paintings in the upper reaches.  

By stripping away layers of paint and by consulting old records, the original designs could be recovered, and then redone.

            Outside, we lingered in the courtyard to admire the tiled panels and the colonnaded space.

            Soon it was time to leave.  Those of us returning by train to Ankara were taken by  minibus to the train station at Söğütlüçeşme ("Fountain with willows"), on the Asian side.  This leg of the trip took only 20 minutes, thanks to light Sunday late afternoon traffic and to the tunnel under the Bosporus – a miracle of engineering, especially for those of us who remember the city long ago, before the first bridge was built across the Bosporus.  Who in 1969, when I first visited Istanbul, would ever have imagined that this would be possible? 

           

Istanbul (June, 2022): still in a class by itself (Part 1)

            Two weeks ago Friday I left Ankara for the first time since February, 2020.  I can’t recall any time in my life when I stayed in one place for so long.  We went to Istanbul, for a weekend tour organized by an old friend of ours.  The places to be visited were familiar – the Archaeology Museum, Hagia Sophia, the Hippodrome, the Sülemaniye, for example – but the thought of taking a trip, any trip, even to a city where we had lived was exciting, but tinged with a bit of anxiety.

            We took the high-speed train, leaving Ankara at 1:00 pm.  Arriving just before 6:00 pm at what can hardly be called a train station (especially for those of us who remember the glorious Haydar Paşa station), we uploaded money onto our Istanbul Cards (leftovers from a trip in 2019) and boarded the Marmaray metro line for the passage under the Bosporus.  At the Sirkeci train station, we changed to the tramway heading up to Sultanahmet, to avoid having to climb the hill.  And then we walked downhill to our hotel, near the seashore.  People, people, people . . . everywhere, in the metro and on the streets, people of all sorts.

            We had dinner on the rooftop terrace of the hotel, with a great view of the sea in one direction and, in the other, uphill, of the Sultanahmet Mosque (the Blue Mosque).  A Pakistani wedding dinner party was occupying half the terrace.  The bride and groom were enclosed in a flower-lined bower.  Oddly, there was no music or dancing, which would be staples at a Turkish wedding, but photos were clearly of major importance, with one group of well-to-do guests after the other posing near the married couple. 

            The next morning we set out on foot for the Archaeology Museum: uphill, and through the check point of the first, outer gate of the Topkapı Palace. 

            The Museum is grand and has great collections.  

The façade has been cleaned of soot and grime in recent years and looks great. 

            Outdoors, in the garden, I am fascinated by a big head of Medusa. 

            Marie-Henriette is contemplating giant porphyry sarcophagi that once contained the remains of Byzantine royalty. 

            Inside, the Greek and Roman sculpture galleries have been renovated since my last visit: a major upgrade.  I enjoyed the huge statue of the Roman emperor Hadrian, from Crete,

            not to mention an over-the-top statue of Tyche (Fortuna) from Düzce. 

A sort of ancient Roman Carmen Miranda . . . 

            But the late antique sculpture from Aphrodisias includes some masterpieces.

            From the Museum we walked to the Rüstem Paşa Mosque, passing by the Grand Post Office (1905-1909), also nicely cleaned of grime and soot

            with an intriguing fixer-upper of the same vintage, across the street.

            The Rüstem Paşa Mosque (1561), tucked away in a market district, is famous for its tiles, inside and out.  

Inside, the front area is reserved for men who wish to pray (praying women have their own place, fenced off, at the back).  

Tourists, like us, must stay in the rear.  

One man came in with his little boy, who happily ate his simit while his dad prayed.  

Elsewhere, a man was taking a nap, snoring away. 

After visiting the mosque, we walked to the Golden Horn and boarded a boat, for a two-hour Bosporus cruise.  

The weather turned cloudy and blustery.  The boat had a supply of blankets, which I and many others took advantage of.  Nonetheless, a trip on the Bosporus is always a pleasure. 

            [blog post to be continued]