Issues
Bringing Ottoman Architecture into the Mainstream
henry matthews
H
ow many students of architectural history, as
they learn about the great domed churches of
Brunelleschi and Michelangelo, are aware that
during the Renaissance an equally momentous
architectural development took place in the southeast corner of Europe? And how many of the historians
who lecture to them make room for Ottoman
architecture in their courses? To judge by the textbooks
that are sold by the thousands in university bookstores, it is hardly worth the effort. Nevertheless, we
should acknowledge that in the European cities of
Istanbul and Edirne an astonishing architectural
transformation took place. In the fifteenth century
the mosque evolved from a horizontally planned space
concealed behind walls, to a domed structure rising
dramatically into the sky, thus setting the scene for the
career of Mimar Sinan, the greatest Ottoman architect.
Sinan, the chief of architects to the Sultans from 1538
to 1588, experimented boldly with domed structure
and interior space in a vast array of mosques. His
design offers scope for study because of the vigorous
spirit of experimentation in which he worked. Of all
the architects of the Renaissance, he enjoyed the
greatest opportunity to push the boundaries in the
creation of structure, space and light. While no Italian
architect built more than a few domes, Sinan and his
assistants are credited with over 100 domed mosques,
including twenty-five in Istanbul alone. If we analyse a
select group of these, we will see that he not only
developed many alternative schemes, but also continued to pursue goals of structural and spatial clarity.
He reached a peak with the creation of the Selimiye
mosque at Edirne (1569±1575) whose dome, supported on eight slender piers, floats gracefully above
the central space.
The available texts explain why general knowledge
of Ottoman architecture is generally scanty. The two
most influential architectural historians of the
twentieth century left us in the dark. Sir Banister
Fletcher, in his History of Architecture on the Comparative
Method, relegated Islamic architecture, with other
Eastern traditions, to a final chapter entitled `The
Non-Historical Styles.' He called all Muslims Saracens,
thus invoking fearful images of the infidel who
conquered the holy places of Christianity.1 He
contended that if we found the forms of Eastern art
`unpleasing or bizarre,' it was because, unlike European
styles `which have progressed by the successive
solutions to structural problems, resolutely met and
overcome . . . their decorative schemes seem to
1
Revised by Professor Cordingly, the chapter was renamed
`Eastern Architecture' in the eighteenth edition (1961) of Banister
Fletcher, and Saracenic architecture became Islamic.
outweigh all other considerations.' Perhaps we should
remember that Sir Banister belonged to the generation
of Lloyd George who, with unspeakable results, urged
the Greeks to invade Turkey after World War I. Nikolaus
Pevsner in An Outline of European Architecture simply
ignored the Ottomans. And who paused to ask why he
included Constantinople, but not Istanbul, in Europe?
Among other recent historians, H W Janson in his
History of Art, Frederick Hartt in Art: A History of
Painting, Sculpture, Architecture, Richard Tansey and Fred
Kleiner who revised Gardner's Art through the Ages, as
well as Hyman and Trachtenberg, the authors of
Architecture from Prehistory to Postmodernism, all deal with
almost a thousand years of Islamic architecture from
southern Spain to India in one brief chapter in the
medieval sections of their books. They tend to discuss
the few Ottoman mosques they include only as
variations of Hagia Sophia. Neither Janson or Hartt
mentions Sinan. The only mosque they illustrate is the
seventeenth-century mosque of Sultan Ahmet I,
whose architect, Mehmet Aga, they do not name.
Tansey and Kleiner do no better. In a brief introduction to Ottoman architecture, they present Sinan
as a contemporary of Michelangelo and develop a
comparison between the interior of the SuÈleymaniye
mosque in Istanbul and that of Hagia Sophia. They
aptly state that `where the architects of Hagia Sophia
mask not only the aisles, but the four great piers that
support the dome, Sinan, by contrast looks not only
for clarity of space, and emphasises, rather than
conceals, all the structural elements of the building'.
They touch on the evolution from his early mosques to
the Selimiye at Edirne and illustrate the Selimiye with
plan, exterior and interior, clearly establishing that it
is no mere variant of Hagia Sophia.
Spiro Kostof, in his A History of Architecture: Settings
and Rituals, goes much further to shed light on the
Ottoman achievement. He weaves non-western
architecture into the entire book, and introduces
Islamic architecture in several places. In a chapter
entitled `Istanbul and Venice' he offers a compelling
juxtaposition of Italian and Ottoman architecture and
speaks of a Turkish Renaissance. None of the other
authors mentions the kuÈlliye, an essential element in
Ottoman town planning including schools, hospitals,
hospices and kitchens, arranged in a harmonious
manner around the mosque. But Kostof places the
mosque in its urban context and shows the kuÈlliye as a
vital element of urban order. Helped by several plans,
he deals in comparative depth with Sinan's design,
discussing eloquently the architect's spatial and
structural experiments. In a comparison between St
Peter's and the SuÈleymaniye mosque, he writes: `Sinan
does not compose with independently articulated
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Sinan, Selimiye
Mosque, Edirne,
1569±75. Interior of
Dome.
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parts related to one another with consistent proportionalities. His is a looser approach to design. . . . In
religious terms, the architecture falls somewhere
between the metaphysical theocentricity of Hagia
Sophia and the mathematical clarity of the Renaissance ± somewhere, that is, between awe and reason.'
The most comprehensive study of Ottoman
architecture published in English is A History of
Ottoman Architecture by Geoffrey Goodwin.2 The author
is immensely knowledgeable but, with the exception
of a few short and easily overlooked passages, he does
not deal with his subject in the broader context of
European architecture. He is particularly to be
commended for including a large number of clear
plans. However, readers are likely to be frustrated. The
author writes eloquently, but he often fails to create a
clear hierarchy of information and ideas or a
consistent pattern of organisation. The result is that
historical background, important description and
analysis are frequently bogged down in detail.
Goodwin includes several maps, a glossary and a
chronological table. Since the captions to the
illustrations do not include the dates of the buildings
or the names of the architects, A History of Ottoman
Architecture proves frustrating as a reference book.
For monographs on Sinan in English we are well
served by Turkish authors. Aptullah Kuran, the leading
scholar of Ottoman architecture, has written Sinan, the
Grand Old Master of Ottoman Architecture (1987).3 During
his long years of research, to ensure accuracy, he
personally measured many of the buildings he
analyses. In the lucid text, with the aid of his own
plans and good black and white photographs, Kuran
leads the reader through the evolution of Islamic and
early Ottoman architecture before the time of Sinan
and then embarks on a detailed analysis of Sinan's
principal works. He vividly describes the transition in
the fifteenth century from horizontally planned
mosques to the domed structures that dominate the
skylines of cities: `. . . the Ottoman architect lowered
the screening walls to expose what was behind them.
The interiority gave way to a bold upward display;
hidden spatial relationships and meanings found an
outlet through the modulations of the roof structure.'
Kuran includes insightful comparisons with Byzantine, Gothic and Renaissance architecture. The
glossary and building lists, both chronological and
alphabetical, are valuable.
Two more recent monographs are Sinan: the
architect and his works by Reha GuÈnay (1988)4 and Sinan
and the Selimiye by DogÏan Kuban (1997).5 GuÈnay
modestly makes no claim to interpret the work, but
presents his data with useful comments in a way that
encourages his readers to consider their own
interpretations. The profusely illustrated book is a
model of clarity. He provides a chronological table in
which he juxtaposes the architecture of Sinan's
lifespan with that of Europe and Asia; a map of
Istanbul showing Sinan's buildings and the principal
structures from previous and later eras; a page of
comparative plans all to the same scale; and other
valuable data. In the core of the book he describes
seven kuÈlliyes, nineteen mosques and a fair number of
Medreses, tombs, hamams, bridges, etc. He subdivides the mosques into square based, single domed;
square based, semidomed; hexagonal domed; octagonal domed, and multi-based, multi-domed types.
All are arranged to the same format, with plans as well
as his own superb colour photographs, including
aerial pictures of the kuÈlliyes and inspiring dome
interiors. A chapter on the evolution of interior space
is accompanied by a double page spread with
comparative views looking up into sixteen domes.
DogÏan Kuban, whose central focus is the Selimiye
mosque at Edirne, begins by explaining the context in
which Sinan worked. He undertakes a thorough study
of the evolution of mosques prior to Sinan and under
his authority. His clear, comparative plans show the
spatial metamorphosis in four stages, from the pivotal
È ËcÎserefeli mosque at Edirne (1440) to Sinan's design
U
for the SÎehzade mosque. Having set the scene, Kuban
attempts a more theoretical approach than the other
authors. He aims `to rescue Ottoman and Turkish
history from the clicheÂs of orientalist theories and set
it into a more universal historical perspective.' He
acknowledges that little is known about Sinan's life
and that virtually no records exist to shed light on his
architectural theories. It is not even clear which of the
477 buildings mentioned in Sinan's autobiographical
2
Godfrey Goodwin, A History of Ottoman Architecture, Thames
& Hudson, London, 1971. 511pp 521 mono illustrations,
including 81 plans. isbn 0-500-27429-0. $40.00.
3
Aptullah Kuran, Sinan, the Grand Old Master of Ottoman
Architecture, Institute of Turkish Studies, Washington DC. http://
turkishstudies.org/ 164 mono photographs and 81 plans. isbn 0941469-00-x. $35.00.
4
Reha GuÈnay, Sinan: the architect and his works, Yapi-EnduÈstri
Merkesi Yayinlari, Istanbul, fax: 90 212 248 48 14. 263 colour
photographs and 50 plans. isbn 975-7438-67-7. $25.00.
5
DogÏan Kuban, Sinan and the Selimiye, The Economic and
Social History Foundation, Istanbul, 1997, fax: 90 212 227 37 32.
isbn 975-7306-30-4. 110 colour/34 mono photographs and 70
plans and sections. $35.00.
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manuscript he designed himself. Sinan's origin as a
Greek, born in central Anatolia, and his recruitment,
in about 1512, to the Janissary Corps in which he served
as a master carpenter, makes a fascinating and often
embellished story. His rise from the status of slave to
chief architect seems extraordinary. Kuban writes of
Sinan's personality as `a symbol around which a
mythos was built' and attempts, through an
understanding of his works, to penetrate the mythos
and to reconstruct Sinan and his philosophy. He states
that `Sinan created his works within the framework of
a world view inextricably bound with the Empire, the
Sultan and Islam', but he also speculates on Sinan's
knowledge of Italian architecture. In the penultimate
chapter, `Confrontations: Where does Sinan Stand?'
he discusses Sinan's place within Islamic traditions in
comparison with Italian architects. In his conclusion
he dismisses the idea that Ottoman architecture
represented a Byzantine Renaissance; rather the
Selimiye `transcends Medieval archaism.' He
characterises the Selimiye as `the most striking
example in the field of architecture of the influence
of classical humanism in Turkish culture or, perhaps,
of a humanism peculiar to Turkish culture itself.'
The three handsomely produced monographs differ
in their aims and scope, but they provide sufficient
information and analyses to allow Ottoman architecture
a worthwhile place in the architectural history
curriculum. I suggest that all three should be in every
university library, but for undergraduates I particular
recommend GuÈnay. There is, however, the frustrating
problem that none of them is listed in Books in Print.
Kuran's volume is available from the Institute of
Turkish Studies in Washington. The other two, though
they have good English editions, are published by
organisations without distributors in England or the
USA. Information on how to obtain them is posted at
my website <http://www.arch.wsu. edu/slides/
ottoman.htm> which will be regularly updated. I hope
that readers will persevere in tracking them down.
Meanwhile we can await the publication of a
monograph on Sinan by GuÈlruÈ NecipogÏlu, whose
excellent study of Topkapi palace, Architecture Ceremonial
and Power, was published by MIT Press in 1994. I would
like to think that in future history courses some of the
issues of Renaissance architecture will be considered in
an inclusive manner. Would it not be reasonable, for
example, to bring Sinan's mosques into the debate on
church facades? It is certainly worth noting that while
Alberti and Palladio wrestled intellectually with superimposed temple fronts, Sinan expressed the structure
and created a human scale entrance. What would Pugin
have said if he had set his sights further east?
Henry Matthews is Professor of Architectural History at Washington State
University, Pullman, Washington, USA
ASSOCIATION OF ART HISTORIANS CONFERENCE
OXFORD 2001
MAKING CONNECTIONS
29 March±1 April 2001
Oxford Brookes University
Next year's annual conference of the Association of Art Historians will be held in the renowned
University city of Oxford. There will be receptions at the Ashmolean Museum, the University
Museum and Christ Church Picture Gallery, an opportunity to stay in Merton College (the
oldest college of the University of Oxford), and a conference dinner at Keble College. Visits will
offer, amongst other options, a tour of Oxford's college buildings, a chance to go behind the
scenes at several museums including the Museum of the History of Science, and a private view
of medieval manuscripts in the Bodleian library. The academic sessions, which will take place
at Oxford's newer university, Oxford Brookes, include the following:
•
ART, SCIENCE AND VISUAL STUDIES
•
MAKING RENAISSANCE CONNECTIONS: CENTRES, PERIPHERIES AND CULTURAL
EXCHANGE
•
WRITING HISTORIES WITH CLASSICAL ART
•
FRAMING THE FETISH
•
VISUAL CONNECTIONS: THE OBJECT AND ITS IMAGES
For further details contact:
Andrew Falconer, AAH Conference
70 Cowcross Street, London EC1M 6EJ
Tel: 020 7490 3211. Fax: 020 7490 3277
Email: [email protected]
Or look at the AAH website: www.aah.org.uk
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