last day in istanbul (5) : bigcity tiles

kariye church : mosiacs

in the kariye museum the first impression is of ghostly whiteblue, plaster under dark turquoise frescos and mortar under sparkley gold mosaics all done with tiles the size of peas.

signs repeatedly warn you not to take pictures using camera flashes because the dyes in the frescos are sensitive to intense light, but close and bright spotlights shine on each one. security guards patrol with batons and handcuffs on their belts.







the nave (main hall) is a square configuration done in proportions of four, with sixteen windows in the arch overhead, four cut-in panels of coloured marble in each wall, square and rectangle panels in the floor, and two mosaics that frame the space. it is all done in cool marble, grey and white with coloured ornamental panels framed in pink marble scrollwork.




tile mosaics would have once covered the entire inside of the church, though they are mostly crumbled away now.


impossibly gold tiles.


very neat. got me thinking about letting things fall from use into disuse and what it must have been like to stand in this church when it was new, and things i have no use for now. more to follow.

tile patterns

loving my inner photographer (2) : patterns in tile at ephesus

tile patterns in the sidewalks leading up to the terraced houses of ephesus.



and look!

just the facts, ma'am (3a) : the building with mosaics

the most impressive building in the ruins of olympos is forgotten, now, dug out and restored only in 1992 and known simply as the "building with mosaics." the building with mosaics is deep in the forest. you get to it by walking down a long stone walkway.

who can trace the canyoned paths
cattle have carved into time,
wandering from meadowlands to feasts?
layer upon layer upon layer
of autumn leaves are swept away --
something forgets us perfectly.

it used to be a two-storey building with a courtyard. now it is rubble. the tile mosaics all lie smashed and broken on the ground. the domes and arches that held up the second level are broken too.

the mosaics are done with very small square tiles, fitted into swirling or angular geometric patterns, gummed onto big slabs of stone. they are caked with a thousand years of dust and dirt, and grown over with grasses.









very neat.

that is what i tell myself. truth is i walked right over something important, didn't even notice. i would have missed it if i had not read the informational plaque on the building's other side. it said: the floors of the building with mosaics once were decorated with motifs of vines, as well as birds. i had not seen any birds in the tiles. so i went back and looked more closely and there they were.

living is easy with eyes closed -- a theme of my time here at sundance.

the stone walkway carries you out beyond the building with mosaics, taking you past a creek where reeds grow tall and where frogs sing as the sun goes down, back to the main site.

just the facts, ma'am (2): demre

day 2: demre, or kale.

when i got back from demre, birthplace of saint nicolas the miracle-worker, mehmet said to me, "now you are a pilgrim."

i surprised myself by answering top of my head, "dude: we are all pilgrims."

the church of saint nicholas at demre dates back to the 4th century BC. it has been wrecked, ruined, ransacked, and rebuilt. it is small and architecturally mismatched. my guidebook said it was a plain disappointment compared the the magnificent mosques of turkey.

but i did not think so at all. it was understated.

it was about faith. the church is a dim, cold little building, now mostly dug out from underground. the floor tiles are crooked. there are chunks missing from the walls, and columns that go to nowhere. it gives the impression of greyness, not colour, and stone, not precious metals. but it made me say wow: in particular the serenity of the faded colours, paint directly on grey stone and crumbling plaster.

i said to myself: unless this place was severely more impressive in the past, you must have had to have faith to come and worship here. it was humble.

faith is strange. faith can be used to keep the bottom on the bottom while the top stay on top. but you can also think of faith as being just one part of a triad -- faith, doubt and determination.

they keep the saint's earthly remains in this church. is that faith? everything in nature indicates that when you die you become food for the worms and the millipedes, and the trees that grow over you and the birds that live in them. here was this dusty grey box filled with sand and bones, with a stinking ashtray next to it.

some of the stone walls were painted, the colours faded now. to see the sad faces of the saints: is _that faith? islam does not allow icons.

there was an inscription in Russian: oh measure of faith and image of humility, oh teacher of abstinence, reveal to thy flock that which is the truth of all things. is _that faith? there is a saying here that to enjoy sweets, not to abstain from them, is a true sign of faith. meanwhile the sculptor was unfamiliar with the russian alphabet, the carving rife with spelling mistakes and malformed letters.

the walls were made with long thin red bricks and mortar spread between. there was almost more mortar than brick. the plaster was falling away although every now and then you'd see the scratched-in outline of what looked like a greek cross, and that hinted that once maybe the whole wall was painted. but mostly the decorations were simple.



outside in the courtyard, stone carvings, broken, collected, piled up:




and this carved stone in greek:



most interesting to me were the tile mosaics in the floors:



and this unexpected pigmented motif:


all told: morbid, dusty, dim, cold. in that way it was just like churches today, just more ancient. and i don't know why anyone would risk persecution to go there and believe. except, i suppose, faith -- and that itself was impressive. the sarcophagus was not. i am not sure i'd ever want to venerate some relic, although, that said, these days i'm finding it hard to leave some things behind.