Hagia Sophia and the Byzantine Aesthetic Experience

Nadine Schibille

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2016
• ISBN:
  9781317124146
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Art
• Subtopic: History of Medieval Art

Paramount in the shaping of early Byzantine identity was the construction of the church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople (532-537 CE). This book examines the edifice from the perspective of aesthetics to define the concept of beauty and the meaning of art in early Byzantium. Byzantine aesthetic thought is re-evaluated against late antique Neoplatonism and the writings of Pseudo-Dionysius that offer fundamental paradigms for the late antique attitude towards art and beauty. These metaphysical concepts of aesthetics are ultimately grounded in experiences of sensation and perception, and reflect the ways in which the world and reality were perceived and grasped, signifying the cultural identity of early Byzantium. There are different types of aesthetic data, those present in the aesthetic object and those found in aesthetic responses to the object. This study looks at the aesthetic data embodied in the sixth-century architectural structure and interior decoration of Hagia Sophia as well as in literary responses (ekphrasis) to the building. The purpose of the Byzantine ekphrasis was to convey by verbal means the same effects that the artefact itself would have caused. A literary analysis of these rhetorical descriptions recaptures the Byzantine perception and expectations, and at the same time reveals the cognitive processes triggered by the Great Church. The central aesthetic feature that emerges from sixth-century ekphraseis of Hagia Sophia is that of light. Light is described as the decisive element in the experience of the sacred space and light is simultaneously associated with the notion of wisdom. It is argued that the concepts of light and wisdom are interwoven programmatic elements that underlie the unique architecture and non-figurative decoration of Hagia Sophia. A similar concern for the phenomenon of light and its epistemological dimension is reflected in other contemporary monuments, testifying to the pervasiveness of these aesthetic values in early Byzantium.

1

Viewing Hagia Sophia through Sixth-Century Eyes

Famed for its ‘marvellous beauty’, the architectural structure and interior decoration of Hagia Sophia was not only innovative in its own time, but would prove paradigmatic for the architecture of later periods, while epitomising Byzantine identity.¹ Reaching for the sky, the edifice towers above the sixth-century city of Constantinople, combining sound proportion with faultless harmony.² The first impression of the building’s interior is one suffused with light as:

it abounds exceedingly in sunlight and in the reflection of the sun’s rays from the marble. Indeed one might say that its interior is not illuminated from without by the sun, but that the radiance comes into being within it, such an abundance of light bathes this shrine.³

The east end recedes into the semi-circle of an apse, topped by two successive semi-domes, seemingly floating in mid-air and flanked by retreating exedras. The same arrangement can be found at the west end of the building. In the centre, four massive piers rise to a great height and support four arches on either side of the naos square, upon which rests a central dome. ‘Yet it seems not to rest upon solid masonry, but to cover the space with its golden dome suspended from Heaven’.⁴ It is a ‘bewildering sight’, and one does not know where to look first. Light reflects from the gold-covered ceilings, and the colonnaded aisles and galleries are simply beyond description. The polychromy of the church’s interior is reminiscent of a meadow in full bloom. It is a marvel (thauma) of purple, green and crimson glows and white flashes, merging technical skill with divine providence.⁵

It is in these terms that the sixth-century court historian Procopius of Caesarea described the church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople as part of his treatise De Aedificiis (On Buildings), the purpose of which was to celebrate and to preserve for posterity the architectural achievements of the emperor Justinian.⁶ De Aedificiis is one of three historical works by Procopius, written in the tradition of classicising history and imperial panegyrics.⁷ The work varies from elaborate descriptions of single buildings, fortifications and water supplies to mere cataloguing, and combines numerous literary genres, including panegyric, imperial biography, geography and ekphrasis.⁸ Book I of the De Aedificiis opens with a detailed rhetorical description of the church of Hagia Sophia in Constantinople. Probably written around the middle of the 550s, Procopius’ account of the Great Church is the only surviving historical source for the original Justinianic edifice before the collapse of its first dome in 558 CE.⁹ While the text records some technical issues that arose during the construction process, it conveys above all a sixth-century response to the building. As outlined above, Procopius’ narrative does not follow an obvious systematic sequence and does not always remain strictly factual. Instead, Procopius comments repeatedly on the subjectively felt experience, emphasising the marvel that skilfully combines the sacred with technological excellence and that escapes human comprehension. As such, Procopius’ account corresponds to the ancient definition of an ekphrasis that goes beyond a simple technical description by commenting on the building’s effects and visual impressions experienced by the orator and his audience.¹⁰

The definition of ekphrasis in antiquity is a complex one. In its most basic form, ekphrasis is a rhetorical technique that attempts to represent a material object or event through the medium of language and to verbalise what is originally non-verbal.¹¹ Ekphrasis is about visualisation and a direct expression of the ways of viewing rather than the technicalities of the perceived object or event.¹² An ekphrasis echoes the viewer’s experience and perception, thereby creating an interpretative framework for the viewing process. The audience is invited to view the object (e.g. Hagia Sophia) through the mediation of the ekphrasis that points out ‘the most notable features’.¹³ In so doing, an ekphrasis pays attention to those properties to which aesthetic value was assigned by a Byzantine beholder. These objects of aesthetic experience, however, need not necessarily be material or visible. Rather, the ekphrasis promotes intelligent viewing by instructing the reader or listener how to look and what to see. Through an ekphrasis the audience can potentially gain access to the intelligible meaning (higher truths) that underlies the material reality of the ekphrasis and the artefact.¹⁴ This chapter explores how the two extant ekphraseis of Hagia Sophia transformed the objects of sense perception (aisthesis) into potential objects of intellection (noesis),¹⁵ and how Procopius and Paul the Silentiary transcended the material reality (materiality) of the building of Hagia Sophia into a monument of wisdom (sophia).

Visualising Hagia Sophia through the Agency of Light

As a rhetorical device, an ekphrasis could be employed in a variety of contexts, and the two sixth-century ekphrastic accounts of Hagia Sophia, one by Procopius and the other by Paul the Silentiary, indeed differ in purpose and structure. Both authors wrote in a classicising style with a ‘flowery language’ and abundant use of archaisms and metaphors reminiscent of Homeric vocabulary.¹⁶ The difference between the two is that Procopius set out to preserve the memory of the emperor Justinian’s accomplishments for generations to come in the classical tradition of historiography,¹⁷ while Paul the Silentiary wrote an ekphrastic poem to be recited for a specific occasion, namely the celebrations of the church’s re-consecration in 562/563 CE.¹⁸ In other words, the two ekphraseis differ significantly in terms of the historical backdrop against which they were composed as well as in terms of the relationship between the audience and the described object. Procopius focused on the early and glorious years of Justinian’s reign and the construction of the emperor’s architectural masterpiece. Paul the Silentiary’s poem, on the other hand, followed the collapse of the main dome of Hagia Sophia, at a time when Justinian’s long and eventful (and not always successful) reign was drawing near its close.¹⁹ In the case of Procopius’ De Aedificiis, it is a classicising historical work aimed at a readership/audience that was not necessarily present on site and that may in fact not have had personal knowledge of the monument at all. Procopius’ main task was therefore to convincingly create a vision of the edifice in the minds of his audience, a problem of which he himself was acutely aware when he exclaims that ‘the church has become a spectacle of marvellous beauty, overwhelming to those who see it, but to those who know it by hearsay altogether incredible’.²⁰ Paul’s poem, in contrast, was recited in close proximity to the church (at least in the first instance) and in front of an audience who were familiar with the building and who had the subject matter (Hagia Sophia) literally before their eyes.²¹ Given the ancient definition of ekphrasis as ‘a descriptive speech which vividly (enargos) brings the subject shown before the eyes’,²² Paul’s ekphrasis ran the risk of being superfluous, because the very thing he was meant to ‘bring before the eyes’ of his audience was precisely there, in front of his audience.²³ Hence, Paul was faced with a different problem to that of Procopius. Paul himself concedes that trying to rival the beauty and greatness of Hagia Sophia in words was an impossible task, but that it was nonetheless worth trying, as sight and words would complement each other.²⁴ Even though the author’s claim of inadequacy to capture the monument in words has to be considered as a rhetorical topos, Paul’s comment also implies that an ekphrasis can supplem...