6/30 Samos

As we continue our journey through some of the islands around Greece, we come to Samos, which was also part of the Ionian League, as was Ephesus. Understanding of this part of the Mediterranean is understood through the deciphering of the ancient Hittite records, as both Neolithic and Bronze Age settlements have been uncovered here. It experienced the same type of collapse that a lot of the ancient Greek cities experienced in the 12^th century BCE, which resulted in a large migration of the population. Persians would come to conquer this area and use their vast naval force to control much of the Eastern Mediterranean.

One of the major figures in Samos’ history was Polycrates, who was a tyrant that ruled over this area and other parts of the Mediterranean. After acquiring much of his wealth, he would eventually com to build 4 important infrastructure projects:

1. Defense walls that ran from the beach to the mountains, 6 kilometers worth of protection

2. Aqueducts to bring water to the city, as well as a tunnel through a mountain that brought water to the occupied side of the island via a spring

3. A harbor that would enable him to have a strong naval presence

4. The Temple of Hera, another attempt to build the largest temple in antiquity, although not much of it remains. (Excavations have begun, but our visit did not prove very fruitful as most of it was still overgrown with grass, fitting as that may be because Hera was the Goddess of the Earth.)

We were also able to take a look at part of this subterranean aqueduct that was dug into the mountainside at Samos. It was originally built by Eupalino, who was the chief engineer on the project in the 6^th century BCE. The tunnel was considered an unheard of engineering feat, and had to be accomplished rather quickly because it was in an undefended area of the island. The term that’s used to describe this type of tunnel in the ancient world was ‘amphistomon’, amphi = both, stom = mouth. Its orientation, location, and slope had to be all strictly calculated because two teams of diggers began on the opposite side from each other. In addition to the area for the pipes, there were also areas for maintenance and circulation, a very intricate and advanced engineering achievement. Some of the mathematics behind the project included using similar triangles and some of the methods developed by Pythagoras to determine heights well beyond the reach of normal measuring devices. Of course this would not have been possible before Pythagoras’ birth in the 6^th century BCE. Climbing down the tunnel was an interesting experience, as you had to squeeze in through the entrance and stay crouched down throughout its length.

This has to be one of the greatest engineering feats in the world. Consider the length of tunnel they had to bore through (3/4 of a mile), the rudimentary tools they must have had to work with (they certainly didn’t have the large boring machines we use today), and the geometry of both sides coming together at the same point AND with the same slope, allowing the water to flow freely from one side of the island to the other. Yes, one could argue there are much more impressive engineering feats today that come to mind (Hoover Dam, the Chunnel, e.g.) but put into context I can’t see anything that surpasses this one.

6/29 Ephesus, Turkey

Located in a basin between two mountains, Ephesus was a harbor city which had been occupied at least as far back as the 11^th century BCE. It was 1 of 12 colonial cities that was part of the Ionian League, and was loosely based around the cult of Artemis, goddess of fertility (as well as the local fertility deity Cuipele). Like we do today with skyscrapers, each of these cities and others were competing to build the largest structures ever completed, one of which claimed to be – the Temple of Artemis; although nothing of it remains today. What is present now at this location is more of an updated Roman city, with foundations built on the more ancient ones. It was the capital of Asia Minor during their empire. At its height it was one of the largest cities in antiquity, capable of holding 250,000 people. As such, it has one of the largest theaters in antiquity as well. The main street that ran from the state agora to the public agora was known as the Street of Curetis, which cut through the city at a diagonal in opposition to most of the structures which were loosely built along the same N/S axis. On the outskirts of the city is located the Temple of Artemis, access to which was granted by a processional way which had great religious and spiritual importance it the city’s inhabitants.

I was very much intrigued by the Library of Celsus, which was built in the 2^nd century AD and reconstructed in the 1960’s, for its mannerist tendencies. We typically think of Mannerism to be connected to the High Renaissance in Florence and with Michelangelo, but this term refers to a specific movement rather than the concept of mannerism, like the difference between Modernism and modernism. The mannerist trend in this structure is one of using elements in a different way than you would expect, and to also play tricks with your sense of expected rhythm and structure that you typically expect. The façade of the building is reminiscent somewhat of the Olympic Theater by Palladio we saw in Vicenza, although it has a little more depth to its structural members. The rhythm of the columns is fairly regular across its façade, but what gets me about the structure is the upper level. The architects used the often-seen rounded/triangular pattern of pediments spanning the columns, yet left each column on either end exposed. It’s a little jarring to see at first, because what you’re expecting to see is the entablatures on the lower level replicated at the upper level, balancing out the façade. It’s interesting to see these derivations of classical architectural elements, yet every time we come upon a new structure we are tasked with categorizing it. Why is this? It’s not the architect’s intention to build in a certain style; it’s the work of historians that put all of the buildings we see into classes. Is it only necessary for purposes of describing buildings to future generations, or is there some larger societal benefit to putting them into groups? One possible advantage would be so that the client can accurately describe the type of building he/she wants. Another possibility might be for the benefit to pedagogy: as students of architecture being to study different periods in time, they can get a better understanding of the history of this field if they can relate one building to another through similar characteristics. I seem to have a tendency in this journal to ask a lot of rhetorical questions, but I find it helpful for me to ask them simply to get my thoughts out there. I don’t expect answers to them from the reader, but I feel it helps to start a debate on these large sweeping narratives that we are tasked to digest.

6/28 Priene, Turkey

This city pre-dates Pergamon and is one of the earliest examples of rigid town planning, almost similar to the system that the Romans developed. It is one of the most important cities to study in terms of the history of urbanism and city planning because of its grid pattern, developed by Hippodamus of Miletus. Only a purely logical mind could have conceived of and constructed a plan to this degree of precision and rigidity. Its basic form consists of a strict pattern of criss-crossing perpendicular streets built on the landscape. What’s especially interesting about the landscape is that it has quite a slope to it, yet the grid is simply laid right over that with terraces compensating for any height differentials.

Why a grid?

Priene was a colonial city with an estimated population around 5000 established by the Greeks around 350 BCE. The logic behind the grid is that it was a quick way to lay out a city instead of slowly letting it grow naturally on its own, for it was designed all at once. Compare this to some Medieval cities which, when allowed to grow organically, take on a more dendritic street pattern. All major streets are aligned on the East/West axis, with the North/South streets being the secondary ones. Like Manhattan, its morphology consists of equally-sized city blocks, sometimes taking up more than 1 depending on the building type to be placed there, such as a market. Priene also features some of the same building types as the other Greek cities we’ve visited so far, such as the theater, agora, stoas, bouleterion, Temple of Athena, residential quarters, gymnasium, and stadium.

One of the highlights of today had to be the theater presentation. It was quite a neat experience to put on part of an ancient Greek play within a Greek theater. It gave me a heightened sense for the life of a typical Priene citizen. Clearly, the theater was integral to this civilization. Built into the hillside to again take advantage of the topography (as I saw in Pergamon) the Greek theater is a bit different from the Roman one in that its shape resembles more of a horseshoe than a semi-circle. As in other Greek theaters it was again dedicated to Dionysius, and each year there were 2 festivals held in his honor – one in March that would ask him for a good harvest for the Spring and one in December that would send him off for the winter.

The Temple of Zeus that we visited also caught my eye. Here was one of the most important and largest Ionic temples built in antiquity. While most of it is still on site in ruins, the reason it is widely regarded is for its exact mathematical proportions. I bet the designer of the temple had fun with this one, because, as in other Greek temples, the part to whole relationships were of immense importance to the success of the building. The embates was the standard module of a Greek temple. This part would establish a whole set of rules for any temple, and could be scaled accordingly to the site’s need. It is a 6x11 temple that has been exactly tuned, like a guitar, to represent the rhythm and harmony the Greeks sought within nature and in their designs. I often try to make a connection between architecture and music, because I think that the more cross-disciplinary our minds work, the better off we’ll be. The rhythm of a colonnade could be said to coincide with a steady drum beat; the idiosyncratic nature of a Frank Gehry structure is as pleasing to the eye as a Miles Davis record is pleasing to the ear. There are connections between these two disciplines and others, although sometimes they are hard to pick out if you can’t wrap your head around thinking about architecture as music.

Location: Didyma, Turkey

The only reason we went to Didyma on this day was to go to the Temple of Apollo, and I would have to say I’m glad we did. Some temples have claimed to be the largest in this or that location, but the temple here is by far one of the largest I have seen. One of the reasons for this is the style it was built in: dipteral. This means that there were two rows of columns that went around the entire perimeter of the structure. These columns are assuredly the largest in antiquity (that we have come across at least). The square bases had to be at least 20’ long, and if you were to come across a smaller temple that was in ruins where the highest drum was at most 5’ off the ground, the drums here are 15’ off the ground IN RUIN! It’s quite an impressive structure, made even more so by the tunnels on either side of the main cella that lead down to the oracle room. As modern visitors to the ruins here at Didyma, we were allowed to enter the oracle room. This is quite strange because no one but the high priests were able to visit this room in antiquity. To think about the millions of travelers to here in antiquity when this temple was functioning that had to respect the spiritual nature of the building and not enter the oracle room, yet we were allowed in with no resistance. What does this tell you about the sacredness of these spaces? Were they that sacred at all that now anyone can visit them? Or has the world of archaeology overtaken the world of polytheism in that modern travelers want to see all parts of a building, regardless of ancient tradition? Is ancient tradition dead, and if so what did it mean if it’s not around today? These are rhetorical questions, some of them trivial and meaningless, but it brings us to the presentation of the day on religion.

The tradition of building temples evolved from the Mycenaeans, who originally just left holy spots on top of mountains for the gods to receive their offerings, most likey because these were the high spots closest to the gods. The temple began to resemble the houses of the Greeks, because that’s where they thought the gods lived. Of course the temple and any statue inside were but a placeholder for the gods, but they actually thought the gods would be pleased and therefore inhabit these structures, thereby protecting the city. As Greek religion lacked a specific dogma or scripture, it was more or less up to the people to govern themselves and receive ‘signs’ from the gods of their approval or displeasure with their activities on Earth. As a result, polytheism wasn’t quite the same in all parts of the ancient world, as Christianity isn’t the same in all parts of the world today. Each god had a specific role or characteristic, and they were seen more as a personification of abstract ideas, but at the same time had human qualities as well.

6/27 Pergamon, Turkey

I made it to Asia! (well, technically Asia Minor but I don’t care). Turkey definitely has a different feel than Greece. For one, I can almost sound out the words here instead of completely giving up when I tried to do the same for Greece. Turkey also seems poorer off economically than Greece, at least aesthetically. I realize Greece is going through some turbulent times in their history, but Turkey still hasn’t the development I was expecting. Nonetheless, the first city that we visited today was the ancient acropolis of Pergamon. It was established around the 3^rd century BCE, about the time of Alexander the Great. Up until the 1^st century BCE, there were a series of very wealthy kingdoms that existed in this part of the world, and they did in fact co-exist peacefully with the Roman Empire. They eventually did bequeath their kingdom to the Romans to avoid a major conflict and potential destruction of their culture. Because of this gesture, the Romans continued to build and add to the city, which exhibits a mix of Roman and Hellenistic styles today. The interesting thing to me about this site was that the culture respected the mainland Greeks as well, and attempted to model themselves after the Acropolis in Athens, which is manifested here through a series of structures similar to that which is found across the Aegean Sea. It had the advantage of being built on a steeply sloping site, which gave it layers of terraces, a military outlook, and easily defensible structures. Eventually, though during Roman times the town grew so large that it began to inhabit and spread across the plain below the acropolis. Its urban fabric does an adequate job of following the topographic lines of the site, as opposed to Priene, which we are seeing in a few days that, regardless of changes in elevation, features a strict grid pattern.

There is an aspect to this particular trip to Turkey that I have not experienced yet. I am astonished at how far reaching the Greek and Roman cultures were. The system of logistics that these cultures had set up some two thousand years ago is mind boggling. To be able to quarry stone, move materials over thousands of miles (by boat or land), and construct these beautiful works of architecture seems almost incomprehensible. Structures like the Temple of Athena, which was built out of andesite and faces an open plain to the west, are only a slight part of this vast network. As with many of the Greek temples, it attempts to relate itself to the horizon by having unobstructed views to the landscape. Its entry sequence also imitates the Acropolis in Athens somewhat as the way you first encounter the Temple is from an angle, not straight on as in typical Greek fashion. This non-orthogonal appropriation of space was a hallmark of Greek design: it allows you to develop a relationship with the building first, instead of being forced on a straight axis right into the temple. A number of stoas were also built around the temple, each 2 stories high, terminating at the appropriate distance from the temple so as to give unobstructed views of the surrounding area, and were interconnected to the library on site as well. After the Library of Alexander, which has not been excavated, this is the earliest library of which we have ruins as it was built in the 3^rd century BCE.

The other structure that caught my eye and relates to this idea of the logistical network is the Temple of Trajan, which is a Roman structure, built of the typical regal Corinthian order. There are a couple of amazing features of this structure. It catches my eye again because it is of the same order we see 3000 miles away from Rome, but more so because of the style in which it was built. Hadrian, who constructed it, could have built the platform the temple stands on out of concrete; they had the technology. Keep in mind this structure was built in the 2^nd century AD. Yet, it was built in a style reminiscent of a 6^th century BCE structure! It was probably Hadrian’s extreme respect for the Greek culture which allowed him the patience to build a structure that probably took longer to construct than it would have it were to be built using the more advanced technology of the day. Instead he decides to be true to their culture and build it like they would have nearly 800 years earlier, a stunning achievement in cross-culture awareness.

But wait! There’s more!

In order to construct this temple, a platform had to be built in order to get it to be at the appropriate height. So to show off their technological prowess, the Romans built a series of barrel vaults that comprised an entire network underneath the temple. This work of civil engineering definitely exhibits the Roman building style: rounded arches that are stretched out along the length of the temple, and a duality of function: to support the temple above and to create space below that could have been used as a storage facility or some other use.

You could also expect to find a theater at Pergamon. This one in particular was the steepest in antiquity and could hold up to 10,000 people. What was interesting about this structure was that it was both enlarged during the Roman times and did not have any scenery, allowing full unobstructed views of the landscape. This might have been a result of the desire to maintain that all-important relationship with nature, as previously described, or it might have been a function of the types of performances held here. Either way, it is quite an impressive structure that also features a small Temple of Dionysius at the bottom. This was placed here so that as you were approaching the theater from the road below, you could see the temple and its relation to the overall complex, just as Dionysius has a relation to the world of theater, entertainment, and debauchery.

One building type that I haven’t yet discussed that we came across is the gymnasium. It is built on three different levels for use by three different age groups and wasn’t designed exclusively for exercise. Rather, both intellectual and physical activities would take place here, as the Greeks found it important to exercise both mind and body simultaneously to keep both parts working in harmony.

Dedicated to the God of Healing, Asclepius, the Asclepion was primarily an early form of a hospital dedicated to keeping the population of Pergamon in good health. Of course the concept of healing had to have a deity to go along with it, and we can still see remnants of Asclepius today, as his symbol was the snake wrapping around a staff. The whole area of Pergamon was really a functioning early metropolis. None of the aspects of daily life were taken for granted and each had its place and specific function. We can look back today and call them somewhat ‘primitive’ because all of their structures were built primarily out of stone, a Neolithic-looking building material that gives each building here more of a crude feel than it deserves. This was a thriving city: even the hospitals had theater spaces for music and performances, stoas for commercial use, and a sacred spring in which to take baths. At the same time, though, the way they treated their patients was based off of knowledge that is definitely primitive when looked at through a modern medicine lens. Hippocrates looked at the body in such theoretical terms that he thought the body’s 4 temperaments were responsible for balancing out the human body and for you to remain in good health. So we have a dynamic here of a well-cultivated intelligent, democratic society that still relied on superstition and bad science most of the time. But we should give them a break; it was our earliest attempts at civilization and I think they got it mostly right.

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I’m sitting on a bus somewhere outside of Pergamon, Turkey. Having just visited the main Acropolis and Asclepieion (hospital) of the area, I’m staggered at the scope and scale of the ancient world and their ability to logistically organize vast parts of the globe and unify them into a cohesive whole. The distance between Rome and the west coast of Turkey is equivalent to a plane ride from New York to Los Angeles. Yet, we see the same building typologies here that we see in the ‘mother land’ of Rome. The Temple of Trajan, for instance, (also dedicated to Zeus) is a prime example and is also a fascinating building for another reason which I will mention later on. It was built during the reign of Hadrian, somewhere in the 2^nd century AD and similar to a temple of Zeus that we saw in Athens. The order is Corinthian, the formal expression basically the same as any temple you would see in Rome, yet it is some 2500 miles away. I can’t even begin to describe how difficult and therefore purposeful a journey for the emperor Hadrian must have been around this time. If he did in fact come here to Turkey and either approve of this building type or be involved in some other capacity, one would have to think that he was involved in traveling to other parts of the Roman Empire which were under his control at the time of his reign. Spain, England, North Africa, parts of the Middle East, Germany, France were all at one time under the umbrella of that city in central Italy. The vastness of this Empire is what astonishes me sometimes. Without modern transportation, infrastructure, or communication, you wonder sometimes how it was able to grow this large. I suspect that they had more time to think about and deploy the logistics, rather than spend their time on facebook or google.

Another fascinating aspect of the Temple of Zeus in Pergamon is the style in which it was built. At the time of its construction, Hadrian’s Villa had already been in existence and the Romans knew quite a lot about concrete and the ability to deploy it in any number of ways. Domes and other various shell-like spatial arrangements had been experimented on in Hadrian’s Villa and were at the fingertips of the emperor. Yet, in a nod to the Greeks and with a great respect for their culture after they had bequeathed their city to the Romans, Hadrian constructed the temple in the style essentially of the Parthenon: by stacking stones on top of one another. You say, so what? The Parthenon was constructed around 440 BCE. The Temple of Zeus was constructed in the 2^nd century AD, 600 years AFTER the Parthenon. To put an equivalent perspective on this time gap, it would be like if we constructed churches today like they did in the 1400’s. what if we built one of those large Gothic churches with its flying buttresses, hand-made stained glass windows, and ridiculously tall naves. It just wouldn’t be done today; it would be unheard of. This building style says again to me how much respect the Romans had for classical Greek culture. Now the construction method was not EXACTLY the same. The Parthenon was built out of solid marble. The Temple of Zeus in Pergamon was built of local stone with a marble revetment. At least, the base was constructed this way; the columns are still solid carved marble and in a different order (style).

I am also starting to formulate a question in my head about the world in general. Do I prefer natural beauty or man-made beauty? When I look at all of the beautiful places that we have visited over the last 6 weeks, I have seen mountain ranges, hillsides, valleys, sunsets, beaches, and rivers. Yet I have also seen townscapes built into the land; incredible spatial volumes; meticulous building methods that boggle the mind as to how detailed they are; exquisite paintings, frescoes, and statues from any number of masters of their craft from ancient to Renaissance times; and more ancient ruins than I can count on my two hands. I have seen a little from Column A and a little from Column B mixed together (as in the case of both the sunset over Florence and the Athens surrounding townscape. As an architect I have been trained to recognize those elements which are beautifully man-made. Yet, as a citizen of the world, I am startled to see the natural beauty that remains in the world. At this very moment we are passing a mountain range with its vast rolling hills, trees dotting the tops, and the very last flickers of sun touching the tops of the mountains. I wish sometimes I could capture the beauty of these scenes in pictures, but I feel that they do not do the scene justice sometimes. It remains to be seen how camera technology will develop, but there is something to be said about moving past a beautiful scene and seeing it constantly change before your eyes as opposed to seeing it still on a computer screen or framed picture. To be able to move around these enormous formations of nature and perceive the foreground moving at a much higher speed than the seemingly glacial background is a part of our experience as human beings that have to be among the most awe-inspiring.

On the other hand, entering into a space such as St. Peter’s Church in Rome with its golden inscriptions, sculpture and painting decorated walls, and complete vertical expansion of the typical basilica form inspires one to revel in the capabilities of the human mind to create such structures. Now of course beauty here is so entangled with the subjective experience that the two can never be separated. What is beautiful and heavenly to one may be just an ugly, over-decorated, ecclesiastical nightmare to another. I, for one, much rather prefer those churches whose geometrical experiments are beyond what I can comprehend rather than staring at walls covered in mosaics and paintings; but that’s just me. Nevertheless, the overall debate remains; what is more beautiful: nature or man-made structures. Could it be a little bit of both? Can’t I have both? Can nature create something ugly? If it exists, it was meant to look like that and can’t control whether it is beautiful or not. We, on the other hand, as rational, logical and emotional beings can control the output of our designs. Since the beginning of civilization we have produced a lot of reprehensibly ugly buildings and a good number of ones that are regarded by the general population to be ‘beautiful’. Which do I prefer? I’ve only just started this discussion with myself. Which do you prefer?