Gardens made of sugar, fireworks, and living tableaus were on my mind the day we toured Edirne. This is because our reading assignment included “Ceremonies, Festivals, and the Decorative Arts” from Subjects of the Sultan: Culture and Daily Life in the Ottoman Empire by Suraiya Faroqhi.
Public festivities were ordered by the court on occasions
such as the circumcision of a prince, the marriage of a princess, or the
departure of troops on a military campaign. Gardens constructed out of sugar
and enormous feasts of similarly costly foodstuffs displayed the wealth ad
generosity of the rulers. Parades of living tableaus that displayed the work
and products of various guilds reified the prestige of craft and trade. In all
these festivities the social order and its hierarchies were affirmed.
Popular festivals occurred on the birthday of the Prophet,
on ceremonial visits to saints’ mausoleums and dervish convents, and on the
occasion of a circumcision. Rules about alcohol consumption could be relaxed
for men at some of these festivals. From time to time the rulers might
determine that a particular festivity was “heretical.” Some festivals, which
allowed women to be present, attracted disapproval. At times, a ruler might suppress the festival
of one religious group in order to build support with another religious group.
The court festivals offered one way for a ruler to affirm his power; the
popular festivals offered another.
As we toured the city I enjoyed imagining the parades and
decorations in the various spaces.
We saw three mosques, each exhibiting a different expression
of architectural aesthetics: The Old Mosque (Eski Camii), The Mosque of Three
Minarets (Uc Serefili Camii), and The
Selimye Mosque.
Eski Camii was built in the 15th century,
completed under the rule of Sultan Mehmet I. The sensibility and skills of
craftsmen from Syria is evident in its use of Syrian style Mamluk
characteristics, particularly the alternating bands of red and white (“ablak”).
Its large indoor calligraphic decorations suggest a literate populace. The nine
domes create a graceful, interconnected space that contrasts with the more
compartmentalized spaces of The Grand Mosque (Ulu Camii) in Bursa. It has a
narrow front porch.
The Uc Serefili Camii has a signature profile against the
skyline of pencil minarets ringed with three balconies. This mosque, like Eski
Camii, shows the Mamluk style of ablak. A large central dome dominates the
interior with four more domes on the sides.
Now we come to the incomparable, astounding Selimye Mosque
built by Sinan at the age of 80 and completed in 1575. He considered it his
masterpiece. The enormous central dome was built just a meter and a half
shorter than that of Hagia Sofya, in deference to the central authority and
prestige of Istanbul as the capital of the empire. The interior pillars are
pushed back to the side to emphasize the central space and the importane of the
central dome. Spare decorations at the eye level draw the eyes up to the magnificent
central dome, reminding the worshipers with the upward movement of the eyes of
God’s power and greatness.
Icicle niches are outlined rather than carved, as they are
so high that the carving would not show off their detail sufficiently.
Sinan shines here both as master engineer and master
architect. Later in the evening our bus actually went over an arched bridge
that he built, and which still supports trucks and tour buses like ours.
The Selimye Mosque is one of the world’s great buildings. This is a good place to share an observation
of Victor Hugo quoted by Suraiya Faroqhi (“Architects, Pious Foundations &
Architectural Aesthetics” from Subjects
of the Sultan) to the effect that history can be seen in two grand stages:
the Middle Ages, in which exists great architecture but no printed books and
the modern era, in which printed books seem to replace great architecture as
the predominating mode of public discourse. Hugo was thinking of Europe, but
Faroqhi sees this principal as relevant to the Ottoman era as well. The number
of mosques alone attests to their enormous importance. The grandeur, expense,
and aesthetic, religious, and social energy that was invested in these
buildings and their associated pious foundations likewise show the mosque’s role
as the central institution of the Ottoman world.
If Victor Hugo were alive today he might replace “printed
books” with “media and the internet” as the most important mode of public
discourse, as we see here in this photograph of a side street in Edirne:
Our tour of the renovated Sulimanye Complex (imaret, or pious foundation) was fascinating. Also built by Sinan, it is an example of charitable institutions as legitimizers of the founding rulers and contributing aristocrats.
Pious foundations could include an income-producing business
such as a bazaar, a caravanserai, a farm, a hospital, a school for children or
adults, guest houses, a library, a hamam, or a soup kitchen. Either men or women could establish a
foundation, which could serve both the purpose of enacting the Koranic
injunction to charity and the strategy of preserving wealth through tax and
inheritance advantages. These foundations were engines of learning, community-building, and social service.
The Sulimanye Mosque complex includes a hospital, several
medressas (schools), and a library. The hospital is the largest component of
the complex, with displays showing the treatment of patients,
surgery, aromatherapy, music therapy, and herbal therapy. A dais provided the
space for a group of musicians to play, and various musical modes were
designated for particular illnesses, both mental and physical. The sound of the
fountain echoing under a dome provided further aural healing. The Ottoman traveller
Evliye Celebi writes: “this carefully and painstakingly constructed hospital is
home to many rich and poor, young and elderly, who suffer from various
illnesses.” The hospital humane treatment of mentally ill people is remarkable
at a time when in the rest of the world shame and persecution were the more
common fates of these unfortunates.
