SAH Blog

  • Spanish Itineraries, Part 1: Barcelona to Ronda

    By
    Patricia Blessing, 2014 H. Allen Brooks Travelling Fellow
     |
    Oct 29, 2015
    The first part of my travels in Spain led me from Barcelona to Malaga, Granada, Cordoba, Seville, and Ronda. Later in the fellowship year, I will report from Madrid and northern Spain, yet at this stage, Barcelona and Andalusia are the focus. 

    Barcelona, a city I have long wanted to visit, is not related to my research on medieval Islamic architecture, and hence my itinerary began with a destination draws most visitors to Barcelona: the Sagrada Familia. This enormous church, begun by Barcelona architect Antoni Gaudí (1852–1926) in 1883 remained unfinished at its creator’s death and is still a work in progress scheduled to be completed in 2026, although it was consecrated in 2010. In its present stage, the building appears rough and unfinished on the outside, while in the interior appears complete. The central nave with its vault (Figure 1) evokes Gothic architecture and, at the same time, the bone structure of a large animal. The stained glass windows in the side aisles (Figure 2) appear Gothic at first sight while in their details, they again connect to the organic structure of the interior. 

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    Figure 1: Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, vault of central nave (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 2: Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, stained glass windows in aisle 

    On the exterior, the sculpted program evolves in a variety of styles ranging from neo-Gothic to the angular figures created by Josep Maria Subirachs (1927–2014), such as the Veronica (Figure 3) on the so-called Passion Façade, on which the Catalan sculptor work from 1986 until 2009. 

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    Figure 3: Sagrada Familia, Barcelona, Veronica on Passion Façade (P. Blessing)

    Gaudí‘s work is present throughout Barcelona; his most well-known residential building is the Casa Battló, a structure that from far evokes bones, and hence carries the nickname Casas dels Osos (House of Bones). Rather than the Casa Battló itself, however, the contrast between its architecture and that of adjoining Casa Amatller with its neo-Gothic façade, porte cochère, and interior courtyard is striking (Figure 4). Both buildings were completed within years of each other: Gaudí’s Casa Battló in 1906, and Casa Amatller, a work of Josep Puig i Catafalch (1867–1956), in 1900. The tensions inherent in the contrast between the two buildings are part of the larger discussion around Modernista architecture in Barcelona, a topic to be explored in more detail. 

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    Figure 4: Casa Amatller (left) and Casa Battló, Barcelona, details of facades (P. Blessing) 

    Moving from the center of Barcelona to the hilly area of Montjuic, the Museu Nacional de Arte de Catalunya was one of the centerpieces of my stay. Particularly impressive was the large collection of Romanesque wall paintings from churches in the wider region of Barcelona. Examples include the full decoration of the church of Santa Maria de Taull (c. 1123), which are carefully displayed—just as the other paintings in the collection—in a structure replicating the original architecture (Figure 5). 

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    Figure 5: The author in front of the apse from Santa Maria de Taull (A. Yaycioglu)

    The move from Barcelona to Andalusia meant a change at many levels: weather, landscape, food, and architecture. For the remainder of this post, I will focus on the remains of Islamic architecture and their later adaptation into Christian structures in some cases.

    After a long train journey from Barcelona, Malaga was the first stop. Dominating this costal city stands the Alcazaba, a fortification that includes a palace last expanded in the fourteenth century when Malaga was under Nasrid rule. Due to the smaller size, the fortifications are always evident while moving through the palace. In the interior, the palace is in many ways an Alhambra on a smaller scale, with a series of courtyards, gardens, and miradors. Water runs through large parts of the complex (Figures 6 and 7) and is gathered in pools that produce mirror effects (Figure 8). 

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    Figures 6, 7, 8: Water courses in the Alcazaba, Malaga (P. Blessing)

    Decoration consists of stucco (Figure 9) and carved wood, and sequences of intersecting arches in various shapes and sizes, some elaborately decorated, are used to create varied viewpoints (Figures 10 and 11).

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    Figure 9: Detail of stucco decoration, Alcazaba, Malaga (P. Blessing)

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    Figures 10 and 11: Details of arches, Alcazaba, Malaga (P. Blessing)

    In Granada, the Alhambra (Figure 12) is an even more prominent focus both due to its location and size, and its prominence. Most striking while visiting are the differences in scale between the overall complex—fortifications, palaces, gardens all included—and the core of the structure, the so-called Nasrid palaces. In the latter, built in the early to mid-fourteenth century by a succession of Granada’s rulers, do we find the famous sections such as the Court of Myrtles (Figure 13), the Court of Lions (Figure 14), and the Hall of the Abencerrajes (Figure 15): structures that have nurtured fantasies of nostalgia since the nineteenth century, when the Alhambra once more came into public view after centuries of neglect. 

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    Figure 12: Alhambra, Granada, view (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 13: Alhambra, Granada, reflection of the Comares Tower in the pool of the Court of Myrtles (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 14: Alhambra, Granada, detail of fountain (copy or original), Court of Lions (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 15: Alhambra, Granada, Hall of the Abencerrajes, interior view of muqarnas dome (P. Blessing)

    Within the Nasrid palaces, the effect is one of a structure at once intimate and geared to impress; nothing is left to chance, and the smallest element in the architectural decoration in stucco, wood, and tile is employed within the overall program. In the Comares Hall the stucco decoration, combining inscriptions with geometric and vegetal decoration, seemingly hangs from the walls in the guise of fabric (Figure 16). The inscriptions in the monument—Qur’an passages, Nasrid mottoes, but also verses describing the beauty of the palaces, at times making it speak—abound; the full texts are available in José Miguel Puerta Vílchez’s book Reading the Alhambra. In details of the varied techniques used to decorate different sections of the building, visual effects intersect in a complex combination of motifs and material properties (Figures 17 and 18). In addition, mirror images of buildings on water are a consistent feature across the complex, in the Courtyard of Myrtles, but also the Partal Palace (Figure 19).

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    Figure 16: Alhambra, Granada, Comares Hall, interior view (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 17: Alhambra, Granada, detail of tile dado in the Courtyard of Myrtles (P.Blessing) 

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    Figure 18: Alhambra, Granada, detail of stucco on the Comares Façade (P.Blessing) 

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    Figure 19: Alhambra, Granada, Partal (P. Blessing) 

    The historical center of Granada, at the foot of the Alhambra, offers a different view on the monument, but also the city. A souvenir industry focusing on the Islamic heritage of Andalusia has emerged: copies of stuccoes in the Alhambra are for sale, but also objects—ranging from crafts to kitsch—that would be equally at home in the tourist markets of Morocco, Tunisia, and Turkey. Some restaurants offer halal meat dishes, catering to Muslim tourists, and part of a halal tourism industry that has picked up in the region in recent years.1 Not many Islamic monuments remain; among them, the fourteenth-century Madraza (Figure 20) is remarkable for its original painted decoration, carefully restored between 2007 and 2011. Contemporary to the Alhambra, this monument reflects what the stucco of the Nasrid palaces, which have lost most of their polychromy, would have looked like. Only the small mosque of this madrasa remains behind a Baroque façade. 

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    Figure 20: Madraza, Granada, detail of painted muqarnas (P. Blessing) 

    In Cordoba, the main monument is of course the Great Mosque, founded in 784 by the Umayyad ruler of al-Andalus and expanded several times in the ninth and tenth century. After the Christian reconquest of Cordoba in 1236, the building became the city’s cathedral, a function it retains until today. In the sixteenth century, a large late Gothic cathedral was built into the center of the prayer hall, effectively destroying the unity of the columns. While standing within the mosque, it is still possible to find viewpoints that obscure the insertions, and provide the impression that a tenth-century visitor might have had (Figure 21). 

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    Figure 21: Great Mosque, Cordoba, interior view (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 22: Great Mosque, Cordoba, maqsura, view of dome in front of central mihrab (P. Blessing)

    The maqsura of the mosque, with the mihrab covered in gold mosaic remain intact (Figure 22). Even seen from the point in the prayer hall where the entrance would have been in 965, after the maqsura commissioned by Umayyad caliph al-Hakam II was completed (Figure 22). Nowadays, the interior of the mosque remains dark, yet this may in part be the effect of the transformation into a church, when the arcades opening into the courtyard were closed (Figure 23). Seen from across the Guadalquivir, the major river connecting Cordoba to Seville, where a major trade port was located in the Middle Ages, the cathedral appears above the original roof (Figure 24).

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    Figure 23: Great Mosque, Cordoba, former entrances to prayer hall (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 24: Great Mosque, Cordoba, view from Torre de la Qalahorra (P. Blessing) 

    The question of transforming mosques into cathedrals is also pertinent in Seville. Here, the Great Mosque, an Almohad foundation begun in 1172, was transformed into a cathedral in 1248 and used largely unchanged until the early fifteenth century. At that point, the prayer hall was torn down and replaced by a Gothic cathedral (Figure 25). Nevertheless, several elements of the mosque remain: the minaret (Figure 26), known as Giralda, built in 1184, stands complete with only few additions and the walls of the courtyard remain largely intact (Figures 27 and 28). The Almohad architecture visible here will be a central topic in my November post from Morocco. 

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    Figure 25: Cathedral, Seville, detail of vault (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 26: Giralda, Seville, as seen from mosque courtyard (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 27: View of mosque courtyard from Giralda (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 28: View across mosque courtyard (P. Blessing)

    I leave the reader with an interior view of a less well-known monument, a fourteenth-century hamam in Ronda, a small mountain town between Seville and Malaga. It was one of the surprises that Andalusia had to offer on a trip on which I embarked well prepared for some sites, but as it turned out, not all. 

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    Figure 29: Hamam, Ronda, interior view of main room (P. Blessing)

    Suggested Readings:

    Grabar, Oleg. The Alhambra (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1978).

    Irwin, Robert. The Alhambra (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 2004).

    Khoury, Nuha. “The meaning of the Great Mosque of Cordoba in the tenth century,” Muqarnas 13 (1996): 80–98.

    Puerta Vílchez, José Miguel. Reading the Alhambra: A Visual Guide to the Alhambra through Its Inscriptions (Granada: Patronato de la Alhambra y Generalife, 2011).

    Ruggles, D. Fairchild. Gardens, Landscape, and Vision in the Palaces of Islamic Spain (University Park, PA: Pennsylvania State University Press, 2000).


    1. I thank Dr. Attiya Ahmad, assistant professor of anthropology at The George Washington University for pointing me to the growing importance of this topic. 

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  • Beyond Faculty Careers

    By
    Collen Flaherty
     |
    Oct 23, 2015

    This article excerpt from
    Inside Higher Ed is published here with permission.

    Critics have long complained about doctoral education in the humanities, saying that it takes too long and no longer reflects the realities of graduates’ employment prospects. In other words, graduate humanities programs are still largely training students to become professors at major research universities, when the vast majority won’t, given the weak tenure-track job market.

    And in recent years criticism has yielded possible fixes from various colleges, universities and academic groups: reduce time to degree, fund graduate students year-round, increase training on how to teach well, reduce subject matter coverage requirements -- the list goes on. Now the National Endowment for the Humanities is tossing its hat in the ring, offering major grants to programs that better prepare students for nonfaculty careers.

    “We know that the traditional career track in the humanities, in term of numbers of available positions, is diminished -- that scenario has changed quite dramatically over time,” William D. Adams, NEH chairman, said in an interview. “So we’re reacting to that in trying to assist institutions in providing a wider aperture for their students to think about careers beyond [academe].”

    The NEH’s Next Generation Humanities Ph.D. grants program, announced today, seeks to bring together faculty members, graduate students, administrators and other key players in doctoral education to identify ways to transform doctoral-level humanities preparation. Like the NEH’s other challenge-oriented grants, funds must be matched by the applicant institution.

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  • “Other” Romanesques and Gothics: Medieval Architecture in Croatia, Bari, and Venice

    By
    Patricia Blessing, 2014 H. Allen Brooks Travelling Fellow
     |
    Sep 28, 2015
    Over the course of the past three months, I have had many occasions to think about established narratives of medieval architecture, and how they can be challenged once we move away from well known sites in Germany, France, England, and northern Italy. In this post, I will use sites in several cities in Croatia—Zadar, Split, and Dubrovnik, in Bari in southern Italy and in Venice to illustrate this point. 

    For centuries, Venice was the capital of a sea empire centered on the lagoon in northeastern Italy, but spreading far into the eastern Mediterranean. The coast of Dalmatia, today part of Croatia, was long under Venetian influence, as the large lion of St. Mark, the emblem of Venice, on the city gate of Zadar amply demonstrates (Figure 1).

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    Figure 1: City gate, Zadar, Croatia (P. Blessing)

    In the interior of the city, however, much of the architecture appears Romanesque, even though the dates do not fit standard definitions. Examples are the ninth-century Church of St. Donatus (Figures 2 and 3) and the Cathedral of St. Anastasia (Figure 4), built in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. I write “appears Romanesque” because that style of medieval art, as many other categories, responds to specific formal and chronological definitions that are not quite met in a region that generally is not part of the canon of medieval art as taught in survey course. Much of this essay is inspired by a seminar on “The Other Romanesque” that Slobodan Ćurčić and Nino Zchomelidse taught at Princeton when I was a graduate student there. The regions covered in the seminar included part of the Balkans, southern Italy, Spain, and Armenia under the premise of how, through study of architecture and sculpture in these regions, we can reach a new, more flexible understanding of the Romanesque. Roman heritage and its later adaptations play a central role. 

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    Figure 2: Church of St. Donatus, Zadar, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 3: Church of St. Donatus. The bell tower belongs to the Cathedral of St. Anastasia. (P. Blessing) 

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    Figure 4: Detail of portal decoration, Cathedral of St. Anastasia, Zadar, Croatia (P. Blessing)

    Further south along the coast, in Split, Roman heritage is strongly present: effectively, the entire old town consists of what remains of the palace of Roman emperor Diocletian (R 284–304). The beginning of construction is disputed; architectural historian Josip Belamarić suggests that the palace was begun in autumn–winter 298, after Diocletian’s campaign to quell a rebellion in Egypt ended. This contrasts with the generally accepted date of 293 for the beginning of construction, once Diocletian has established the Tetrarchy. According to Belamarić and Frane Bullić, the later date would suggest that Diocletian commissioned the palace once reorganization of the empire was complete, and not while is was still in progress. The reconstruction of the complex (Figure 5) shows elements of the complex including Diocletian’s mausoleum, a temple to Jupiter, and strong fortifications, while a photograph of the central section of the complex (Figure 6) shows the peristyle, the mausoleum—now the cathedral of Split, amidst the masses of tourists who visit the city.

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    Figure 5: reconstruction of Diocletian’s palace as shown on site (in the well-preserved substructures). 

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    Figure 6: Cathedral of Split—Diocletian’s mausoleum, view from back (P. Blessing)

    A large number of spolia from Egypt (Figures 7 and 8) were used in the mausoleum, the temple, and peristyle, including twelve sphinxes and numerous columns made of various types of marble. The presence of these elements, according to Belamarić, supports the argument that the successful completion of Diocletian’s campaign was the moment when the palace was founded. In addition to the variations in suggested dates, some controversy persists over the function of the site—often it is called a palace or villa. The contemporary aqueduct providing water to the site, however, is large enough to suggest that there was more than just a palace involved. It has been suggested that industrial production of wool fabrics, an activity that would have required large quantities of water, was involved.1 

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    Figure 7: Sphinx on peristyle, Cathedral—Diocletian’s mausoleum, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 8: Detail of columns around Cathedral—Diocletian’s mausoleum, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 9: Mausoleum of Diocletian, cross-section, reconstruction of original layout, as shown in Split Town Museum 

    Just as fascinating as the issues involved in the construction of the Diocletian’s urban complex is its medieval appropriation. The mausoleum was turned into the city’s cathedral, and very few traces of its funerary function remain—a cross-section (Figure 9) shows the crypt and some changes that were made during its transformation into a church. Parts of the late antique sculpted interior decoration remains (Figure 10) and new sculptural elements were added to its entrance and façade (Figures 11 and 12). Here, issues of periodization once more emerge: sculptures, such as the lions that one might be tempted to classify as Romanesque, date to the thirteenth century, when the campanile was added. Other sculptures shown in the Split Town Museum further open the question of how style and periodization should be approached in order to create a more inclusive view of late antique and medieval art. 

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    Figure 10: detail of dome, Cathedral—Diocletian’s mausoleum, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)
     
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    Figures 11 and 12: Lions flanking entrance to Cathedral—Diocletian’s mausoleum, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 13: detail of portal, Temple of Jupiter, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 14: detail of vault, Temple of Jupiter, Split, Croatia (P. Blessing)

    The nearby Temple of Jupiter (Figures 13 and 14) became a baptistery, and retains much of its original sculpture. Even though I have now taken a path through Split that focused on its late antique and medieval monuments, the city is very much alive—not a museum town, but a place where old structures are inhabited and a lively market takes place close to the cathedral. The Museum of Fine Arts provides a detailed overview of art produced in the region from the thirteenth to the twentieth century, along with the work of contemporary Croatian artists. 

    Moving further down the coast to Dubvronik, the setting changes: the architecture of the old town (Figure 15), as it stands today, mostly dates to the fourteenth to eighteenth centuries, and the center is largely home to restaurants and hotels, crowded in summer but deserted in winter. Visiting, several sites were striking, particularly the thirteenth-century Franciscan Monastery (Figure 16), home to one of the world’s oldest working pharmacies, and the Dominican Monastery (Figure 17). In the latter, the fifteenth-century Gothic cloister is a refuge from a hot day, even though for the art historian it once more offers a point of reflection as to the nature of medieval art in this area. Paintings, reliquaries, and jewelry produced in the city from the thirteenth to the nineteenth centuries are also on view in the monastery. 

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    Figure 15: town center, Dubrovnik (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 16: cloister, Franciscan Monastery, Dubrovnik, Croatia (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 17: cloister, Dominican Monastery, Dubrovnik, Croatia (P. Blessing)

    The most striking element of the city, however, is its location that permitted the construction of walls all around on a site exposed to the sea on three sides and with a tall mountain behind. In part, this topography allowed the city state of Ragusa, as it was known then, to maintain a great degree of independence in the face of both Ottoman and Venetian interest in the area. The harbor is important even today with ferries leading to several countries—I chose the one to Bari in southern Italy, mostly as a way to get reasonably close to Rome and Venice. 

    It turned out, however, that Bari itself had a lot more to offer than expected. Its Norman monuments built in the eleventh and twelfth centuries were thoroughly inspiring, particularly after a visit to the medieval buildings in Croatia described above. Having arrived tired and exhausted one evening, the old town with its tiny streets felt like a maze (Figure 18) but a walk around soon yielded new discoveries to be further explored. The monumental façade of the cathedral (Figure 19), built between the late twelfth and late thirteenth century, was intriguing enough, but the interior offered further surprises. 

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    Figure 18: Bari by night (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 19: Cathedral, Bari, Italy (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 20: dome, Cathedral, Bari, Italy (P. Blessing)

    The dome over the crossing, seen from below (Figure 20) summarizes the point that connections across the Mediterranean, between Norman southern Italy and Sicily, and Fatimid Egypt were central in the twelfth century. The construction technique, with deeply recessed squinches forming the transition from dome to circle at the base of the dome, is the same that appears in many Fatimid buildings in Egypt, including the al-Azhar Mosque in Cairo, founded in 970. Thus, in southern Italy, a very different Mediterranean appears on the horizon: not the Adriatic world of Venice and Dalmatia, but rather the connecting sea between Europe and North Africa. I will have occasion to return to this topic as I will travel to southern Spain, Morocco, and Sicily. 

    On the façade of the Bari cathedral, multiple animals, sculpted in stone, watch over the square in front (Figure 21). Animals—cows and elephants, among others, also appear on the twelfth-century Basilica of S. Nicola, dedicated to Bari’s patron saint, St. Nicholas of Myra. Here, they are centered on portals and windows (Figures 22 and 23) 

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    Figure 21: figures around central rose window on portal façade, Cathedral, Bari, Italy (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 22: Cow figure on main portal, Basilica of S. Nicola, Bari, Italy (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 23: Elephant figures on window in rear façade, Basilica of S. Nicola, Bari, Italy (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 24: Elephant sculpture carrying the obelisk on in front of S. Maria sopra Minerva, Rome (P. Blessing)

    A very different elephant—carved in the seventeenth century in the workshop of Gian Lorenzo Bernini to carry an obelisk from Pharaonic Egypt—stands near the Pantheon in Rome (Figure 24). But fear not, reader: I will not embark on a discussion of sculpted elephants now that this inroads is completed. As everyone who has visited the city knows, Rome has almost too many sites to see, and certainly too many to write about in a single blog post. (I will use some further impressions from Rome in December, when I plan to write about collections of Islamic art in Europe and their display.)

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    Figure 25: exterior, Ara Pacis Museum, by Richard Meyer, Rome, Italy (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 26: interior and view of the Ara Pacis, Ara Pacis Museum, by Richard Meyer, Rome, Italy (P. Blessing)

    Now, however, I would like to share an image of a contemporary building, the Museum of the Ara Pacis, designed by architect Richard Meier. The building, completed in 2006, holds the Ara Pacis of Roman emperor Augustus (R 19 BCE—14 CE), a monumental altar covered in sculpted reliefs, dedicated in 9 BCE (Figures 25 and 26). This foray into museum architecture brings me to my next site, Venice, where the Biennale is still in progress. Located in the two main sites in the Arsenale and the Giardini, along with multiple exhibits spread over the city, the Biennale is nothing short of overwhelming, and I spent hours and hours wandering through the displays of contemporary art. Considering that architecture is the main theme of my blog, however, I have decided to select two works that I found particularly relevant. The first is “Plan for Greater Baghdad” by Jordanian artist Ala Younis, a project about which she spoke at length in the context of its appearance at the Biennale. Because of copyright issues, I will point viewers to the photographs included in the artist’s account of her work. Suffice to say that one of the themes, Le Corbusier’s trip to Baghdad in 1957 after he had been commissioned a design for a stadium complex, provides a link to H. Allen Brooks’ work on the Swiss architect’s early years. 

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    Figure 27: View of S. Marco from Arsenale, one of the sites of the Biennale (P. Blessing)

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    Figure 28: Sta Maria della Misericordia, Venice, Italy (P. Blessing) 

    Also part of the Biennale is—or rather, was—a project by artist Christoph Büchel to transform the deconsecrated church of Sta Maria della Misericordia (Figure 28) into a temporary mosque (as the Icelandic pavilion). Very soon, the mosque was shut down—officially on the grounds that permits were insufficient, and visitors’ safety not ensured due to overcrowding. I was not able to see the interior before it closed, and hence can only show the exterior of the church; no sign points to it as a site connected to the Biennale. The closure of the site, and the complete rejection of its presence—as small as this may seem within the large context of the Biennale—is perhaps symptomatic as Europe struggles with its identity, in the face of the increasing numbers of refugees arriving from Syria and elsewhere. 

    Arriving at the center of the city, in Piazza S. Marco (Figure 29), I once more do not have photographs of some of my favorites: the interior of the Basilica of S. Marco, and especially its treasury, where photography, alas, it not allowed. At the same time, such restrictions are sometimes useful as it pushes me to observe and remember without having the camera’s lens between the object and me. Within the treasury, many Byzantine objects are the trace of Venetian involvement in the Fourth Crusade and the plundering of Constantinople in 1204. On the face of the basilica, the four famous bronze horses and the porphyry sculpture (Figure 30) of the tetrarchs, the four rulers at the head of the Roman emperor under the system instituted by Diocletian, are testimony to the same event. I will take leave of the reader here; my next blog will focus on the Islamic architecture of al-Andalus, in southern Spain. 

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    Figure 29: Piazza San Marco, column with lion of St. Mark (P. Blessing) 

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    Figure 30: Tetrarchi, Basilica of S. Marco, Venice (P. Blessing) 


    Suggested readings: 


    Belamarić, Josip. “The date of foundation and original function of Diocletian’s Palace in Split,” Hortus Artium Medievalium 9 (2003): 173-186

    Brown, Patricia Fortini. Venice & Antiquity: The Venetian Sense of the Past (New Haven, 1996).

    Cambi, N., J. Belamarić, and T. Marasović (eds.) Dioklecijan, tetrarhija i Dioklecijanova palaca o 1700. obljetnici postojanja - Diocletian, Tetrarchy and Diocletian’s Palace on the 1700th Anniversary of Its Existence, proceedings of the International Conference held in Split from September 18th to 22nd 2005 (Split, 2009). 

    Ćurčić, Slobodan. Architecture in the Balkans from Diocletian to Süleyman the Magnificent (New Haven, 2010).

    Et ils s’emerveillèrent: L’art medieval en Croatie, Catalogue de l'exposition présentée au Musée de Cluny, Musée national du Moyen Age, du 10 octobre 2012 au 7 janvier 2013 (Paris, 2012). 

    Harris, Robin. Dubrovnik: A History (London, 2003).

    The Treasury of San Marco, Venice: Exhibition at the Metropolitan Museum of Art ( Milan: Olivetti, 1984), available online at: http://www.metmuseum.org/research/metpublications/The_Treasury_of_San_Marco_Venice#about_the_title, accessed 19 September 2015. 



    1. Belamarić, 176-81.

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