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SELMAN OĞUZCAN ÜNAL BETWEEN PRAGMATISM AND IDEOLOGY: SPOLIA AND SPOLIATION PRACTICES IN BYZANTINE AND SELJUK ANKARA BILKENT UNİVERSITY

This thesis delves into the multifaceted phenomenon of spolia - the reuse of architectural elements from earlier structures into new premises - within the context of Ankara, Turkey. This work examines the possible practical and symbolic connotations embedded in the object and how people of the past perceived space, specifically between the ninth and thirteenth centuries. Through an interdisciplinary approach, drawing on art history, archaeology, digital tools and a comparative methodology, this piece examines spolia integrated into the walls and gates of the Ankara Castle and two thirteenth-century Rum Seljuk mosques of Ankara, namely Aslanhane and Alaeddin. The careful selection of these cases stems from a research gap in existing research regarding the centralized focus of spolia use in Western civilizations. Therefore, this work also adopts a diachronic perspective, trying to understand the use of spolia for the civilizations of the so-called East. Considering all these, this work argues that reuse practices were complex
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and harmonized with both practical and symbolic attributes. This statement is called under scrutiny by utilizing literary and material sources.
Keywords: Spolia, Reuse, Spoliation, Fortifications of Ankara, Aslanhane Mosque, Alaeddin Mosque
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ÖZET
PRAGMATIZM ILE İDEOLOJI ARASINDA: BIZANS VE SELÇUKLU ANKARA’SINDA DEVŞIRME MALZEME UYGULAMALARI

Bu tez çalışması Ankara’ daki çok yönlü devşirme material olgusunu – eski yapılardan mimari öğelerin yeni binalarda tekrardan kullanılması- incelemektedir. Bu bağlamda, bu tez, devşirme materyallerin hem pratik hem de sembolik çağrışımları ve özellikle dokuzunca ve on üçüncü yüzyıllar arasında yaşayan insanların mekanı ve objeleri nasıl algıladıklarını anlamaya çalışmaktadır. Disiplinlerarası bir yaklaşımla, sanat tarihi, arkeoloji, dijital araçlar ve karşılaştırmalı bir metodolojiden yararlanan bu çalışma, Ankara Kalesi'nin duvarları ve kapılarıyla ve Ankara'nın on üçüncü yüzyıldan kalma iki Selçuklu camisi olan Aslanhane ve Alaeddin'in duvarlarına ve kapılarına entegre edilmiş devşirme malzemelere odaklanmaktadır. Bu vakaların dikkatli bir şekilde seçilmesi, şu ana kadar yayınlanmış akademik makalelerin çoğunun genellikle Batı uygarlıklarında devşirme malzemenin kullanımına odaklanmasına ilişkin mevcut araştırmalardaki bir
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araştırma boşluğundan kaynaklanmaktadır. Dolayısıyla bu çalışma aynı zamanda artzamanlı bir bakış açısı benimseyerek devşirme malzemenin sözde Doğu uygarlıklarında kullanımını anlamaya çalışmaktadır. Bütün bunlar dikkate alındığında, yeniden kullanım uygulamalarının karmaşık olduğunu ve hem pratik hem de sembolik niteliklerle uyumlu olduğunu ileri sürmektedir. Bu açıklama, yazılı ve materyal kaynaklardan yararlanılarak inceleme altına alınmıştır.
Anahtar kelimeler: Devşirme materyal, yeniden kullanım, Ankara Kalesi, Aslanhane Camii, Alaeddin Camii
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to express my gratitude to the following individuals and organizations who helped me a lot during the writing process of this thesis:
Firstly, I am thankful to my supervisor, Dr. Luca Zavagno, for his endless support, mentoring, and guidance starting from my studies in my bachelor’s. Without him, it would be impossible for me to pursue my passion. It is not possible to show the importance of his presence in my life with any words.
I extend my gratitude to my family for their unconditional love, support and understanding. Their support made this possible.
Also, I want to thank Ivana Jevtic, Barbora Weissova, Max Ritter, and Virginia Sommella, who helped me with their feedback and guidance. Their input enriched my research without a doubt. I would like to thank my friends for being present in every second of my journey.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS
ABSTRACT ........................................................................................................................ i
ÖZET ............................................................................................................................... iii
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS ............................................................................................... v
TABLE OF CONTENTS .................................................................................................. vi
CHAPTER 1: Introduction ................................................................................................. 1
1.1 What is the term spolia? ........................................................................................... 4
1.2 Definition of spolia in the classical sense................................................................. 5
1.3 Spolia with an early modern meaning ...................................................................... 7
1.4 The developments in contemporary scholarship .................................................... 12
CHAPTER 2: Themes and Methodology ........................................................................ 20
2.1 Pragmatic Reuse ..................................................................................................... 21
2.2 Aesthetic Value ...................................................................................................... 27
2.3 Symbolic / Ideologic Reuse .................................................................................... 29
2.3.1 History building ............................................................................................... 30
2.3.2 Memory ............................................................................................................ 32
2.3.3 Religious Triumphalism and Apotropaic Function ......................................... 36
2.3.4 Diachronic Reuse ............................................................................................. 41
2.3.5 Non-Physical Reuse ......................................................................................... 44
2.4 Conclusions: Perspective and Methodology .......................................................... 45
CHAPTER 3: Fortifications of Ancyra (Ankara) ............................................................ 52
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3.1 History of the city ................................................................................................... 52
3.2 Walls and Gates ...................................................................................................... 57
3.2.1 Inscriptions of Michael III ............................................................................... 62
3.2.3 Chi-rho carved into spolium ............................................................................ 65
3.2.3 The city wall next to the southern gate and four herms ................................... 70
3.2.4 Well Parapet ..................................................................................................... 74
3.2.5 Figural Reliefs ................................................................................................. 76
3.2.6 Pieces from Roman Sarcophagus .................................................................... 78
3.3 Remarks and Limitations ........................................................................................ 80
CHAPTER 4: The Two Rum Seljuk Mosques of Ankara in the thirteenth century (the Aslanhane and the Alaeddin) ........................................................................................... 82
4.1 The Rum Seljuk Ankara ......................................................................................... 82
4.2 The Rum Seljuk Mentality Towards Spolia and Spoliation ................................... 84 4.2.1 Preserving and Repairing the Past ................................................................... 87
4.2.2 Spolia as a tool for slow integration ................................................................ 88
4.3 Spolia in the Aslanhane Mosque and Ahi Şerafettin Mausoleum .......................... 90
4.3.1 Spolia Use in the Mosque’s Interior Part ......................................................... 91
4.3.2 Spolia Use in the Mosque’s Exterior Part ........................................................ 93
4.4 Spolia in the Alaeddin Mosque of Ankara ........................................................... 100
4.5 Remarks and Limitations of the Two Mosques .................................................... 102
CHAPTER 5: CONCLUSIONS .................................................................................... 104
BIBLIOGRAPHY .......................................................................................................... 108
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APPENDIX .................................................................................................................... 120
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CHAPTER 1: Introduction
“Spolia are hot” said Dale Kinney in 2006, starting her chapter titled The Concept of Spolia.1 When I first came across her article and saw this sentence, I immediately thought there would not be a better way to start my thesis. This idea is confirmed by Emily Neumeier when she started her review on a book called Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era with the exact same quotation from Kinney.2 Since Kinney wrote that thrilling sentence, more than a decade has passed, and spolia studies have come into fashion even more.3 This is because countless churches, fortifications, monuments and many other buildings from the Mediterranean to the Middle East or even Scandinavia were embellished with reused marble blocks from antiquity called spolia. The availability or presence of copious amounts of spolia for different cases makes spolia studies intriguing. Even in 2021, Bente Kiilerich published a chapter called Spolia in Byzantine Art and Architecture in The Oxford Handbook of Byzantine Art and Architecture. By finding itself a spot in the handbook, this shows how spolia studies started to get more recognition in academia as a separate field.4
In this light, my main goal is to examine the use of spolia and understand how people of the past interacted with objects. I argue that incorporating spolia was a
1 Dale Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” in A Companion to Medieval Art: Romanesque and Gothic in Northern Europe, ed. Conrad Rudolph (Oxford: Blackwell, 2006), 233.
2 Emily Neumeier, “Ivana Jevtić and Suzan Yalman, eds., Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era. Istanbul: Koç University Research
Center for Anatolian Civilizations, 2018,” review of Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, by Ivana Jevtić and Suzan Yalman, Annual Istanbul Studies, 2019.
3 Emily Neumeier, “Spolia Reincarnated.”
4 Bente Kiilerich, “Spolia in Byzantine Art and Architecture,” in The Oxford Handbook of Byzantine Art and Architecture, ed. Ellen G. Schwartz (Oxford Handbooks, 2021), 47-8.
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complex and multifaceted process with no absolutes that might possess various symbolic attributes that are dynamic due to the political, economic and religious changes in a certain period. My thesis, therefore, explores these possible connotations through an interdisciplinary analysis of archeological and literary sources.
In particular, I will focus on the different symbolic, pragmatic and diachronic uses of spolia embedded into the fortifications and two Rum Seljuk-era mosques of Ankara named Aslanhane and Alaeddin. This selection of cases in Ankara is because, to my knowledge, no single work has investigated the possible symbolic and ideological uses of spolia regarding these edifices. In addition to that, and as will be seen, spolia studies often revolved around premises that Western civilizations constructed, like the Romans and Byzantines.5 This focus indeed raises questions regarding whether the field of spolia is European-centric or not. However, this work is going to apply a diachronic approach and contribute to the scholarship that focuses on the spolia use of so-called Eastern civilizations. The diachronic analysis is crucial for investigating the Rum Seljuk buildings in Ankara since it is possible to observe how Rum Seljuks spoliated Roman and Byzantine architectural pieces and integrated them into their edifices by giving them new symbolic, religious and ideological meanings.
In the first chapter of this thesis, I will examine the concept of spolia and the development of the term. This part is going to start from the initial meaning of spolia during Roman times. Then, it will proceed to analyze how the concept has gained a new
5 For instance, Bergmeier argued that Seljuk and Venetian use of spolia were often examined in isolation and the reason could be “possibly because they are often believed to belong to distinct cultural identities.” For more see Armin Bergmeier. “Antiquarian Displays of Spolia and Roman Identity: San Marco, Merbaka, and the Seljuk Caravanserais,” in Spoliation as Translation: Medieval Worlds in the Eastern Mediterranean, ed. Ivana Jevtić and Ingela Nilsson, (Turnhout: Brepols. 2021): 79-96.
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meaning with the sixteenth-century early modern scholars and developed with contemporary scholarship. Indeed, this chapter will help me contextualize and solidify how this thesis will consider spolia as a concept and a term by calling some of the seminal works under scrutiny. In the second chapter, I will further this analysis by crafting three main themes of reuse (Pragmatic Reuse, Aesthetic Value and Symbolic/ Ideologic Reuse) with examples from case studies from already examined scholarly works in the literature review part. At the end of this chapter, I am going to show how a comparative methodology is necessary and useful when it comes to detecting the themes mentioned above regarding reuse.
Based on all the theories and ideas developed around the concept of spolia, in chapter three, I will move forward and start to analyze the possible meanings that some spolia integrated on the walls of Ankara fortifications possess, specifically during the time when the fortifications were restored under Michael III in the ninth century. Then, in chapter four, I will delve into the two thirteenth-century mosques, Aslanhane and Alaeddin, and try to reveal what possible symbolic meanings were integrated into the reused architectural pieces. For this part, I will compare the Rum Seljuk mentality of reuse, based on examples and scholarly works done on the capital city, Konya, with another political entity that threatened the Byzantine empire in the same period, the Venetians. The parallels and differences between the way these two entities use spolia are hopefully going to reveal how and why the Rum Seljuks integrated some spoliated pieces into the two mosques of Ankara. For this chapter, I will use a comparative methodology with the help of numismatic and material evidence. Additionally, this thesis will also use some digital tools to visualize some of the spolia, both in GIS and 3D
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environments (See Appendix). In conclusion, I will state that spolia and the act of spoliation are complex phenomena, and the meaning that each spolium possessed could evolve and change accordingly with the political, religious and economic atmosphere of a certain period.
1.1 What is the term spolia?
When the Latin term was rediscovered in Italian, spoglie, during the sixteenth century, artists and antiquarians like Francesco Albertini, Raphael, Giorgio Vasari, Flavio Biondo, Giovanni Antonio and Gaetano Volpi applied it to reused marble pieces in new edifices.6 Since then, and as will be seen, spolia studies started to grow and develop with the introduction of new methods, ideas and concepts. Despite the growing interest in the field, the concept of spolia remains challenging. There are ongoing disputes revolving around the definition, and the historian’s stance is unclear. Therefore, in this chapter, I discuss concepts and perspectives of key studies with examples to create a framework for the further discussion of the diachronic development of spolia use in Ankara from Byzantines to Seljuks. I believe the traditional dichotomy of symbolic against pragmatic approaches still covers a significant amount of space in the scholarship, making the definition of spolia even more complicated. Considering this, I argue that there are no absolutes in spolia studies, and each perspective should be considered carefully while doing case analysis. This, indeed, allows me to formulate the methodology for this thesis.
6 Inge Uytterhoeven, “Spolia, -iorum, n.: From Spoils of War to Reused Building Materials: The History of a Latin Term,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018), 25.
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1.2 Definition of spolia in the classical sense
Dale Kinney stated that the term spolia is both metaphorical and anachronistic.7 For the ancient Romans spolia (or, in singular, spolium) was not only about the reused ancient artifacts or architectural pieces, as art historians usually refer to.8 Romans used the word spolia to refer to a skin stripped from an animal.9 However, this meaning was rarely used in its literal form. Only in Ovid’s story of Hercules, the hero is wearing a lion skin called spolium leonis.10 The broader use of the word for the Romans was about to define the arms and armor stripped from defeated enemies, in other words, “spoils of war.”11 The verb spoliare often entailed robbing a person and plundering a town.12 Indeed, the latter use of the concept could involve architectural reuse. As Jon M. Frey stated, “the removal of columns from the Temple of Olympian Zeus in Athens following Sulla’s sack of the city is a frequently cited example of this practice.”13 It is significant to note that these spoliated architectural elements were never separated from other plundered materials. “As Pliny the Elder’s account of this event shows, building materials in particular were referred to by the same name regardless of their secondary use.”14
A scrutiny of the literature also reveals that the closest meaning to the modern understanding of the term spolia is the Latin word rediviva, which means revival or
7 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 233.
8 Ibid., 233.
9 Dale Kinney, “Introduction,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 4.
10 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 233.
11 Ibid., 234.
12 Beat Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne: Aesthetics versus Ideology,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 41, (1987): 103.
13 Jon M. Frey, Spolia in Fortifications and the Common Builder in Late Antiquity (Brill, 2016), 10.
14 Ibid., 10.
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rebirth.15 On the other hand, Cicero stated in his speech against G. Verres (the ex-governor of Sicily) that the reused materials were less desirable than the newly built ones.16 At the same time, in the same speech, Cicero also argued that Greek art (spoils) “should be exhibited to the public at large and used for the adornment of civic buildings” but not in a private context.17 Cicero’s perspective towards reuse in these two examples is quite intriguing since it shows both the negative and positive approaches towards the practice of spoliation, and it is crucial to see the possible diversity of attitudes towards the concept for the Romans.
In the end, inspired by Frey’s beautiful delivery, when it comes to answering the question: “What are spolia?” one cannot ignore the stance of Cato the Elder, who strongly objected to the use of looted objects in private mansions or a Barbarius Pompeianus who stated that he used the stones from the mountains instead of ruined monuments against a Cassiodorus who praised the imported reused materials in Ravenna or a Constantine the Rhodian who praised the variety achieved for the decoration of the church with columns from other buildings.18 Greenhalgh argues that one cause of this confusion between the ancient and modern perspectives lies in the terminology itself since spolia in the classical sense refers to armor stripped from defeated enemies;
15 Joseph Alchermes, “Spolia in Roman Cities of the Later Empire: Legislative Rationales and Architectural Reuse,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 48, (1994): 167.
16 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 10.
17 Uytterhoeven, “Spolia, -iorum, n,” 33.
18 For the examples presented see Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 11. See also Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 1987; Helen Saradi-Mendelovici, “Christian Attitudes toward Pagan Monuments in Late Antiquity and Their Legacy in Later Byzantine Centuries,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 44, (1990); Helen Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia in Byzantine Monuments: The Archaeological and Literary Evidence,” International Journal of Classical Tradition 3, no.4 (1997); Bryan Ward-Perkins, “Re-Using the Architectural Legacy of the Past, Entre Ideologie et Pragmatisme,” in The Idea and Ideal of the Town between Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages, ed. Gian Pietro Brogiolo and Bryan Ward-Perkins (Brill, 1999).
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therefore, to avoid any confusion, he prefers to use reuse as a term to define the modernized concept of spolia.19 On the other hand, one should be careful that those like Cicero, who recorded and commented upon numerous examples of reuse, are not the ones who were involved in the construction process. Although they were witnesses to the historical period discussed here, differently from us, the position they found themselves in was similar to ours. They also attempted to understand the possible motivations, ideologies, and ideas when it comes to the act of spoliation. Some saw spoliation as a mistake, like Cato the Elder, or some praised the action. In the end, as Robert Coates-Stephens states, “… that in the ancient world there was just as much ambiguity regarding the question of spolia as there is today amongst art historians and archaeologists.”20 Given that the problem in the definition of the term will be present, it is worthwhile to call some seminal works under scrutiny that influenced the modern scholarship about spolia.
1.3 Spolia with an early modern meaning
For sixteenth-century artists and antiquarians, the reuse of marble was a sign of the Roman economic and artistic decline in the so-called Dark Ages.21 Among them, Giorgio Vasari used the term spolia (spoglie) for the first time to describe architectural pieces used to embellish the Arch of Constantine, a triumphal arch dedicated to
19 Michael Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine, ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 79.
20 Robert Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia in Some Late Antique Texts,” in Theory and Practice in Late Antique Archaeology, ed. Luke Lavan and William Bowden (Brill, 2003), 352.
21 Dale Kinney, “Rape or Restitution of the Past? Interpreting Spolia,” in The Art of Interpreting, ed. Susan Scott (Penn State University Press, 1995), 54.
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Constantine’s victory over Maxentius in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge of 312 AD.22 Vasari’s perspective, however, was quite negative since he considered spoliation as an act of imitation (of the Classical past), dismemberment and practicality, a necessity resulting from a lack of creativity and an attack on the classical past.23 In addition, the main focus for the likes of Vasari was on the reused pieces themselves but not their secondary life in their new context.24 In the A Report to Pope Leo X, it is written about the reused material on the Arch of Constantine that: “The sculptures on the ... arch are very tasteless, without art or good design, though the fragments (spoglie) from the time of Trajan and Antoninus Pius are excellent and of the purest style.”25 Here, it is possible to observe how the meaning of the word spolia had negative connotations, which goes hand in hand with the argument that connects the Roman, or so-called Byzantine, decline with spoliation practices. This perspective formulated the early scholarship on spolia since, as Brian Ward-Perkins puts it, the correlation between the third-century economic crisis and the increasing popularity of spoliation or reuse at that time seemed connected.26
Vasari’s negative perspective of spolia, as reiterated by several other authors like Esch and Deichmann, started to change in the twentieth century with the shift in focus from classical naturalism to a more positive approach towards post-classical art and
22 Giorgio Vasari, The Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects, trans. Gaston du C. de Vere (Modern Library Classics, 2006), 15.
23 Kinney, “Rape or Restitution of the Past?,” 55.
24 Arnold Esch, “On the Reuse of Antiquity,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine, ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 13.
25 “A Report to Pope Leo X on Ancient Rome”, trans. Elizabeth Gilmore Holt, in A Documentary History of Art, ed. Elizabeth Gilmore Holt (NY: Doubleday Anchor, 1957), 294.
26 Bryan Ward-Perkins, From Classical Antiquity to the Middle Ages: Public Building in Northern and Central Italy, AD 300-850 (Oxford University Press, 1984).
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appreciation thanks to Alois Riegl’s 1901 work Die spätrömische Kunst-Industrie.27 Here, it is worthwhile to mention that there is a missing period between Vasari and Riegl regarding the philology of spolia. To my knowledge, it is known what spolia meant for Romans and for the sixteenth century antiquarians, but I could not detect any mention of spolia after the term was coined by the so-called early modern scholars until the twentieth century. Therefore, for future research, a detailed look and exploration of the use of the concept in the missing centuries would fill the missing gap.
Going back to Riegl, the change he brought to art history influenced numerous scholars, and some talked about spolia in their works.28 For instance, Hans Peter L’Orange, in his 1939 essay Die spätantike Bildschmuck des Konstantinbogens, examined the sculptures on Constantine’s arch. L’Orange’s piece was a major development at that time, but he argued that the figural reliefs on the Arch of Constantine were used deliberately, and it was not due to lack of time and expertise.29 In fact, L’Orange argued that if the audience knew about the original subjects, which were Trajan, Hadrian and Marcus Aurelius, they would easily detect the recontextualization done by Constantine and how he connected himself to the glorious past of the Romans. This was the first time spolia started to be examined in their secondary context, and the scholarship saw the ideological interpretation of reuse. Then, in 1940, F. W. Deichmann, in Säule und Ordnung in der frühchristlichen Architektur, followed L’Orange’s methodology of interpreting spolia in
27 Alois Riegl, Die spätrömische Kunst-Industrie (Wien, 1901); For more information regarding Riegl’s impact on the field see Maria Fabricius Hansen, “The Use of Spolia in Early Christian and Medieval Churches: Possibilities of Interpretation” in Perspektiven der Spolienforschung 1: Spoliierung und Transposition, ed. Stefan Altekamp, Carmen Marcks-Jacobs and Peter Seiler (Berlin,Boston: De Gruyter, 2013): 87.
28 See Riegl, Die spätrömische Kunst-Industrie. Hansen, “The Use of Spolia in Early Christian and Medieval Churches,” 87- 8.
29 Hans Peter L’Orange and Arnim von Gerkan, Der spätantike Bildschmuck des Konstantinsbogens: Text- und Tafelband (De Gruyter, 1939), 190.
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their secondary context and he developed a system where one can elucidate a particular spolium by looking at size, color and typology.30
In 1951, Günter Bandmann also discussed spolia on one page of his book called Ikonologie der Architektur. Bandmann stressed that spolia were used as a means of empowering new edifices.31 Few studies discovered spolia in certain premises in the 1950s and 60s. Jean Taralon revealed in 1955 that the golden head of a relic at St. Foi in Conques was added later. Erwin Panofsky, in 1965, Renaissance and Renascences in Western Art, claimed that the disassociation of classical art from its original context made it possible for these pre-Christian works to survive the Middle Ages.32 However, none of these works mainly talked about spolia, yet they explored the practice of reuse, which contributed to the development of spolia studies in the 70s. Even though these seminal works can be considered as the ones that initiated the modern scholarship on spolia, they did not manage to change the traditional sixteenth-century perspective.
In 1969, the Archiv für Kulturgeschichte published a work by a German historian, Arnold Esch, that marked a new beginning for spolia studies. His essay Spolien. Zur Wiederverwendung antiker Baustücke und Skulpturen im mittelalterlichen Italien offered the first comprehensive study on motives of reuse.33 He emphasized how spoliation was a complex phenomenon in the Middle Ages and should be investigated carefully. He also stated that examining spolia is crucial in understanding the perspective
30 Esch, “On the Reuse of Antiquity,” 13. For more see: Friedrich Wilhelm Deichmann, Säule Und Ordnung in Der Frühchristlichen Architektur. 1940.
31 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 242.
32 Ibid., 243. Hansen, “The Use of Spolia in Early Christian and Medieval Churches,” 87.
33 Arnold Esch, Spolien: zur Wiederverwendung antiker Baustücke und Skulpturen im mittelalterlichen Italien (Böhlau Verlag, 1969). See also Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 240.
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of late antique individuals toward their past. Esch’s piece corresponded with the trend at that time called postmodernism in art since the essential characteristics of spolia also consist of the tropes that postmodernists tackle, like historicism, memory, appropriation, and authorship.
Another seminal work came into the picture by Friedrich Wilhelm Deichmann in 1975. His monograph Die Spolienn in der spatantiken Architektur stated that the recycling of artifacts is visible in all ancient civilizations like Egypt and Persia.34 In addition, by analyzing the early Christian basilicas, he revealed that the incorporation of spolia became a popular architectural trend between the fourth and eighth centuries, starting from Constantine's reign as a Roman emperor.35 He also pointed out that the pragmatic use of reused materials enabled Romans to discover a new aesthetic principle. This argument challenged the traditional perspective of spolia, particularly the assumption that the purpose of post-classical art was to imitate the Classical past.36 With Deichmann, indeed, the use of spolia freed itself from being a proof of economic and aesthetic decline.
These two works and names have changed the direction that spolia studies used to have from the sixteenth century onwards. Their works did not frame around the concept of decline, while the traditional approach considered spoliation as a mistake and focused on the original places of each spolium. With the secondary context becoming more popular, these pioneers separated spolia from its original meaning and introduced
34 Friedrich Wilhelm Deichmann, Die Spolienn in der spatantiken Architektur, (Verlag der Bayerischen Akademie der Wissenschaften ,1975), 91. See also Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 240.
35 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 240.
36 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 14.
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the modern concept. Since then, spolia studies continued to develop with the introduction of new interpretations and analyses. However, to my knowledge, it is impossible to detect any single work that did not mention these two seminal pieces.
1.4 The developments in contemporary scholarship
Following the footsteps of Esch and Deichmann, in 1982, Richard Brilliant separated spolia into spolia in se (spoliation as a material fact) and spolia in re (conceptual spoliation).37 These two concepts became well-established in scientific research and made the perspective towards spoliation and spolia to acknowledge the secondary life or architectural pieces and concepts.38
Beat Brenk, in 1987, by directly using Esch’s scintillating essay, introduced a new concept to the field and called it spolia as art politics.39 This was when the concept of spolia started emancipating itself from the attributed dismissive meaning. This strengthened the argument that spoliation was not a necessity born out of the economic crisis but was an architectural movement.40 Michael Greenhalgh’s 1989 book The survival of Roman Antiquities in the Middle Ages became the most influential piece at the time because it was accessible in English.41 His overview of spolia in Italy and England revolved around the concept of survival.42 He did not primarily focus on the
37 Richard Brilliant, “I piedistalli del giardino di Boboli: spolia in se, spolia in re,” Prospettiva 31 (1982): 2-17.
38 Dale Kinney, “Ancient Gems in the Middle Ages: Riches and Ready-mades,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine, ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 112.
39 Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 104.
40 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 244.
41 Ibid., 244.
42 Michael Greenhalgh, The Survival of Roman Antiquities in the Middle Ages (Duckworth,1989), 57.
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symbolic connotations that spolia might possess, but indeed, Greenhalgh managed to stress the fact that symbolism is a valid point.
Lucilla de Lachenal gave a historical overview of reuse with examples from Italy. De Lachenal’s 1995 work, Uso e Reimpiego dell’ antico dal III al XIV secolo is considered the first modern monograph of spolia.43 Dale Kinney, in his 1997 article “Spolia. Damnatio” and “Renovatio Memoriae” argued that for the fourth-century Roman viewer, the reuse of marble pieces in the Arch of Constantine was not unprecedented nor unusual.44 Therefore, it is possible to argue that with these new essays like Kinney’s work, spolia studies started to question the traditional sixteenth-century perspective and initiated a unique perspective of examining spolia in its secondary context.
In 2003, Robert Coates-Stephens investigated primary literature on reuse. His work Attitudes to Spolia in Some Late Antique Texts explored different motivations behind the practice of reuse written by ancient authors, and he stated that some of these motifs could not have been shown with new materials.45 Paolo Liverani, in 2005, worked on Brilliant’s classification of spolia in Reading Spolia in Late Antiquity and Contemporary Perceptions and introduced concepts called metaphorical spolia, spolia I and spolia II.46 For Liverani, spolia I referred to the classical definition of spolia derived from Latin that suggested the pieces taken from defeated enemies as a symbol of victory
43 Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 244-5.
44 Dale Kinney, “‘Spolia. Damnatio’ and ‘Renovatio Memoriae,’” Memoirs of the American Academy in Rome 42, (1997): 140.
45 Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia,” 341.
46 Paolo Liverani, “Reading Spolia in Late Antiquity and Contemporary Perception,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine, ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 45.
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or, in other words, spoils of war. Spolia II, on the other hand, referred to the Renaissance use of the term that defines spolia as fragments reused not in the original but in secondary contexts. For the metaphorical spolia, he stated that these were the cases similar to what Brilliant categorized as spolia in re, which are images, concepts, motifs and icons that have been taken up and integrated in a later period by others without their literal or material sense.47 However, Greenhalgh, in 2009, emphasized that the knowledge of the Late Antique and Early Middle Ages is fragmented, and without having primary sources about the spolia use, it is nearly impossible to pin down each spolium to a symbolic context. Thus, Greenhalgh disagreed on making a connection with memory studies and spolia for each case.48
Esch, too, in his 2011 article called On the Reuse of Antiquity: The Perspectives of the Archaeologist and of the Historian, did not deny the practical side of spoliation. Esch pointed out that one should be careful while making a statement about whether a particular spolium has symbolic connotations or not. The reason behind such an assessment is similar to what Greenhalgh presented, where he stressed the significance of finding literary sources that talk about the use of spolia. As can be observed, the dismissive sixteenth-century meaning towards spolia use changed after Esch, Greenhalgh, and scholars stopped considering spolia as an attack on the Classical past.
47 Paolo Liverani, “Reading Spolia in Late Antiquity and Contemporary Perception,” 46. See also Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia,” 245; Kinney, “Introduction,” 5.
48 Michael Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins,” 77.
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Umberto Eco’s 1999 work Riflessioni sulle tecniche di citazione showed how this negative connotation was abandoned.49 In fact, Dale Kiinney said Eco’s metaphor of a jacket was a great example that explained this change. In its primary use, a jacket becomes worn, but then it does not die, or the function ends. The jacket can be used in different forms by reversing, mending and patching. In addition, it is possible to change the shape and function of the jacket and reuse it as a shirt. Finally, when the jacket loses its function as a cloth, Eco says it is possible to dismember its parts and use them as patches for other clothes.50 At first sight, this example seemed like a metaphor for recycling rather than reuse, but patching the parts of the jacket to new clothes might have different meanings other than practicality. It all depends on the reuser’s intention and aim, as Anthony Cutler’s book Image Making in Byzantium proposed. 51 The problem here is about the ways of detecting symbolic connotations because, as mentioned above, Greenhalgh was strict about the inability to evaluate each spolia by utilizing the symbolic perspective. This eventually creates an obstacle for researchers to detect and prove the true intentions behind the implementation of spolia. However, Esch and Greenhalgh also argued that a perusal of literary sources and inscriptions can be a concrete method to observe the ideological, mnemonic, and nostalgic connotations of a particular spolium in the first major conference volume of spolia studies of 2011 that shed light on many concepts and theories called Reuse Value.52
49 Kinney, “Introduction,” 3. For Eco’s metaphor see: Umberto Eco, “Riflessioni sulle tecniche di citazione,” in Ideologie e pratiche del reimpiego nell'alto Medioevo ed. Medoevo (Centro italiano di studi sull'alto Medioevo, 1999): 461-84.
50 Kinney, “Introduction,” 3.
51 Anthony Cutler, Image Making in Byzantium, Sasanian Persia and the Early Muslim World: Images and Cultures (Routledge, 2019).
52 Brilliant and Kinney, Reuse Value.
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In 1997, Helen Saradi published a work under the title The Use of Ancient Spolia in Byzantine Monuments: The Archaeological and Literary Evidence, where she argued: “In Byzantium, incorporation of spolia in new architectural compositions was often a means to convey a specific political message, such as the appropriation of the Roman past and the legitimacy of the new empire, or to create new aesthetic values, radically different from those of the orderly discipline to the Classical art.”53 Then, she examined Byzantine churches in northern Greece and Italy. She utilized both literary sources and archaeological evidence in her assessment. However, the most striking part of this essay was the methodology she implemented. Saradi did not only examine each case individually but compared them with one another. By doing that, she managed to detect symbolic connotations of spolia about churches lacking literary sources. As she put it, “The factor of convenience, however, should not be overly valued, since it has now been shown that construction of new buildings with heterogeneous material was more complex than it is generally believed.” meaning that incorporation of spolia in churches was not merely about practicality but, as accounts of Saints showed, it was an architectural trend to present Christian domination over paganism visually.54
On the other hand, Kinney in 1997 and Oehrl in 2012 showed that the incorporation of spolia into new buildings was not only a Late Antique phenomenon. Their studies demonstrated not only earlier examples but later examples of re-use in both Byzantine, Viking, and Islamic architecture. The comparative approach they brought to the table influenced some scholars to turn and reformulate their stance towards spolia.
53 Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 397.
54 Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 399.
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Indeed, this new methodology made scholars shift from examining one particular building to trying to understand the reasons behind such architectural applications across the Mediterranean and beyond. As a result, this change has inevitably led to questions concerning spolia. Who reused them? How did they select a particular spolium? What was the purpose of embedding spolia on fortifications, public buildings, churches, or mosques? What can we tell about society by analyzing their use of spolia?
These questions formulated the core of Jon M. Frey’s coruscating 2016 book Spolia in Fortifications and the Common Builder in Late Antiquity, where he introduced the roles of agencies into the picture. By adopting the agency approach of anthropology and archaeology, he made an effort to investigate the decision-making process of constructions in the Late Antique. He acknowledged that individuals were and still are shaped by cultural knowledge, which varies due to space and time. He compared four different case studies and noted the architectural differences in each premise, which allowed him to present that the wide-ranging discussions of the pragmatic, ideological, symbolic and aesthetic perspectives for the use of spolia are inseparable and visible in each and every case.55 According to Frey, the ambiguity of what spolia tell us is because certain agencies were involved in the construction process, including the emperor, local authorities and the common builder.56 Therefore, the imperial goal to build a specific monument, church, or fortification could not end up as planned in some ways due to the common builders' and local authorities' individual decisions. For instance, sometimes, the common builder should be practical in completing one façade of a church and should
55 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 88.
56 Ibid., 88-9.
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rely on available spolia at the closest distance. In this case, the builders would not be able to use a specific spolium that would give the viewer the ideological message as intended by the imperial authority.57
In light of this discovery, spolia studies started to face a change in terms of implementing different theories and methodologies from other fields. I believe the traditional dichotomy of pragmatism and symbolism is no longer valid for spolia studies. As can also be observed from the works of Uytterhoeven, Bakirtzis, Foss, Brilliant and Veikou, they all analyzed different edifices, from churches to fortifications, and they all agreed upon the existence of both practical and symbolic use of spolia in their introduction. After briefly talking about these two perspectives, they used comparative approaches and integrated new fields like space and memory studies to extract new information about Byzantine and Roman society through spolia.
Veikou’s Space in Texts and Space as Text: A New Approach to Byzantine Spatial Notions, in this sense, brought a whole new approach to the future of both Byzantine and spolia studies. She stated that space, unlike time, had not received the same level of focus in history. However, with the beginning of the 2000s, this has gradually changed thanks to the new movement called the Spatial Turn developed in Humanities and Social Sciences.58 The ultimate goal behind this perspective is to understand what happened to societies by observing the changes in the meaning and experience of space. Therefore, spolia can function “as the catalyst of a resilient urban
57 Ibid., 113.
58 Myrto Veikou, “Space in Texts and Space as Text: A New Approach to Byzantine,” Scandinavian Journal of Byzantine and Modern Greek Studies 2, (January 2016): 143.
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identity.”59 This thought can lead scholars to evaluate spolia as something that is often embedded in fortifications, churches, public edifices, and mosques to convey a message to the urban population.
In the end, modern scholarship on spolia has developed significantly after the term was coined or, better to say, rediscovered by Renaissance artists and antiquarians. Although the term became more and more intriguing for scholars and in the last five decades, scholars expanded the area that spolia covers, these developments in the scholarship made the subject of spolia a difficult concept to define and apply to case studies. On the other hand, while exploring the practice of spoliation, researchers employ approaches provided by art history, architecture, archaeology, psychology, history, and lately digital humanities.60 Indeed, the next chapter is going to present general themes that covered most of the works that focused on spolia and reuse. With that, it is going to be easier to observe how spolia can function symbolically, aesthetically and practically.
59 Luca Zavagno, The Byzantine City from Heraclius to the Fourth Crusade, 610–1204, Urban Life after Antiquity (Palgrave Pivot Cham, 2021), 42.
60 Ivana Jevtić, “Introduction,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. Ivana Jevtić and Suzan Yalman (Istanbul: ANAMED, 2018), 9.
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CHAPTER 2: Themes and Methodology
Spolia studies have developed rapidly since Esch and Deichmann, but the themes and ideas they brought are still valid and effective. This impact is visible in Dale Kinney and Richard Brilliant’s edited volume Reuse Value since Arnold Esch is also one of the authors of an article called On the Reuse of Antiquity: The Perspectives of the Archaeologist and of the Historian. Moreover, this volume can be regarded as the work that “crystalized the methodological approaches and the theoretical issues around the practice of reuse, applicable in the studies of both the ancient and the modern worlds.”61 As can be seen from this quote from Ivana Jevtić’s introduction to the second seminal edited volume of spolia studies, Spolia Reincarnated, both works acknowledged the general themes Esch and Deichmann proposed. Building on the ideas discussed in Chapter I, this chapter approaches spolia considering the aforementioned two volumes and organizes this work around five major themes (Pragmatic, Aesthetic, Symbolic/ Ideologic, Diachronic, and Non-Physical). For each of these sections, I present examples of different types of spolia use, and I show how these concepts have an influence on my key studies focusing on the fortifications of Ankara and the two thirteenth-century mosques of Alaeddin and Arslanhane. I will argue that bringing various examples from different political entities seems like a solution to detect which spolia are genuinely unique for Ankara and which are similar to the general architectural trends of the post-Constantine period. At the end of this analysis, I present the methodology of this work, which also uses digital tools as a way of understanding the interaction between the material and space.
61 Ivana Jevtić, “Introduction,”10.
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2.1 Pragmatic Reuse
The pragmatic approach to investigating spoliated materials suggests that it is economically easier to reuse existing architectural elements than to extract, produce and transport new materials. Albeit the consensus is in favor of more complex explanations of spolia use and the pragmatic approach is not the only reason why spoliation occurred, scholars who examined the topic have argued that basic utility and economy were crucial for spoliation.62 The economy was undoubtedly a factor, and some authors, including the sixteenth-century artists, saw reuse as the sole explanation of the practice.63 For instance, as Deichmann proposed, the economic weakness of Late Antiquity caused builders and patrons to utilize architectural pieces from ruined buildings instead of quarrying new materials.64 Often, this type of reuse requires using building materials from a close distance within a few kilometers, like for the fortifications of Ankara, where most reused materials were brought from neighboring edifices.65 This can also be seen in the great majority of medieval structures built before the turn of the second millennium, like the houses in the nineteenth-century Gallipoli, where “stones from the temple at nearby Lampsaki are simply rolled down the hill.”66 Even today, the locals who live close to the ruins of St. Michael’s church in Germia, a major pilgrimage site
62 For more see: Esch, Spolien; Deichmann, Die Spolien; Robert Ross Holloway, Constantine and Rome (Yale University Press, 2004); Amy Papalexandrou, “Memory Tattered and Torn,” in Archaeologies of Memory, ed. Susan E. Alcock and Ruth M. van Dyke (Blackwell, 2003), 57; Michael Greenhalgh, Marble Past, Monumental Present (Brill, 2009).
63 Papalexandrou, “Memory Tattered and Torn,” 57.
64 Deichmann, Die Spolien; Bilge Ar, “Spolia Usage in Anatolian Rulers: A comparison of ideas for Byzantines, Anatolian Seljuqs and Ottomans,” A|Z ITU Journal of the Faculty of Architecture 12, no.2 (2015): 5.
65 Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins,” 83; Ufuk Serin, “Bizans Ankara’sı Ve Kaybolan Bir Kültür Mirası: “St.Clement” Kilisesi,” METU Journal of the Faculty of Architecture 31, no. 2.
66 Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins,” 83. Antoine- Laurent Castellan, Lettres sur la Morée, vol. 1 (Nepveu, 1820), 216.
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dated to the Early Byzantine period onwards, located not far from Eskişehir, used stones from the church for building their houses.67
Another perspective can be implemented to strengthen the utilitarian perspective in light of what Robert Coates-Stephens questioned –if spolia use was about giving certain ideological or symbolic messages, then why couldn’t the same connotation be achieved via utilizing new materials?68 Coates-Stephens showed the Great Altar of Pergamum as an example to present how, similar to the Arch of Constantine, the same triumphalist messages were conveyed through newly cut marble and statues.69 It has been suggested that the Altar was erected between 166 and 156 BC, commemorating specifically the victories of Eumenes II and of the Pergamenes against the Galatians, Seleucids and Macedonians. Basically, the most famous frieze of the Altar depicts a Gigantomachy (the battle fought between the Olympian Gods and Giants), which is assumed to give an ideological message to the audience regarding the triumph of the Greeks against the enemy, similar to the Athenian triumph over the Persians.70 Similar to the Arch of Constantine, the Altar of Pergamon gave the triumphal message to the defeated on the surface, and therefore, it stresses the point that the same ideological messages can be reached by using new materials. So, this example, at first sight, proves the pragmatist approach since using spolia and new materials can give the same message
67 Deniz Sarı, “Frigya’nın Doğusunda, Antik Germia ve Civarında Yer Alan Tunç ve Demir Çağı Yerleşimlerinden Toplanan Çanak Çömleğin Genel Bir Değerlendirilmesi,” The Journal of Academic Social Science (2017): 488-508; Philipp Niewöhner, “Germia 2010. The Byzantine Pilgrimage Site and Its History,” T.C. Kültür ve Turizm BakanlığıKültür Varlıkları ve Müzeler Genel Müdürlüğü 153. no.3 (2010): 103.
68 Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia,” 343.
69 Ibid., 343.
70 Richard Whitaker, “Art and Ideology: the case of the Pergamon Gigantomachy,” Acta Classica XLVII (2005): 165.
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to the audience. Moreover, the use of spolia can boil down to a phenomenon of necessity that was born out of economic struggles.
At first sight, it seems that there is no difference between utilizing spoliated architectural materials and newly quarried building supplies. However, there are some examples Coates-Stephens brought to the table that can bring a new angle to tackle this problem. In 540 AD, the Sasanian King, Khosrow I, sacked Antioch during the Byzantine-Sasanian wars. According to the writings of Jacob of Edessa, after taking control of the city, Khosrow I moved the city’s population to a new city that he built. The city is called Wēh Antīōk Ḵosrow/Rūmagān/Ar. Rūmīya and Beh-az-Andīw-e Khosrow, interestingly, the latter means “better than Antioch of Khosrow.”71 The was in the vicinity of Ctesiphon, a city that was the capital of the Sasanian Empire from 225 to 637 AD.72 The building of this city, however, is quite intriguing since, as Procopius said, this new city was embellished with a bath and a hippodrome which showed similarities with Byzantine cities.73 In the account of John of Ephesus, it is said that each and every marble was stripped from Antioch and Khosrow I took them “since they also were building in their country a city like this one, and they named it Antioch too”74 In addition to these texts Coates-Stephens investigated later Arabic sources like al-Tabarı. According to this account, Khosrow I gave an order that “a plan should be made for him of the city of Antioch exactly to scale, with the number of its houses, streets, and
71 E.W. Brooks, “The Chronological Canon of James of Edessa,” Zeitschrift Der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 52, no.2 (1898): 300.
72 Oliver Nicholson, The Oxford Dictionary of Late Antiquity (Oxford University Press, 2018).
73 Procopius, History of the Wars, Volume I Books 1-2 (Persian War), trans. H.B. Dewig (Harvard University Press,), 341.
74 Dionysius, Pseudo-Dionysşus of Tel-Mahre Chronicle Part II, trans. Witold Witakowski (Liverpool University Press, 1996): 64
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everything contained in it, and orders that a [new city] should be built for him exactly like Antioch but situated at the side of al-Mada’in [=Ctesiphon].”75 However, one should be alert that Procopius’s writings were pro-Sasanian and influenced al-Tabari’s writings in the 10th century. Therefore, the reliability of the information is debatable.76 On the other hand, the truth should not be a concern since historians of the time, like Procopius, John of Ephesus and al-Tabarı, talked about the construction of the city, and they mentioned marbles taken from Antioch.
Another interesting fact is that the city’s unofficial or rather folk name was al-Rumiyyah, which means the city of the Romans.77 According to Coates-Stephens, this name indicates a possible connection between Khosrow I’s spoliation of Antioch for his new city and the Persian king’s motivation for initiating such a building program, as the use of spolia might indicate an action to show triumph over the defeated enemy and possession of the Roman heritage.78 As a matter of fact, I discuss symbolic connotations that spolia might possess in the following pages, but it is significant to point out that Khosrow I would not be able to give such a political/ideological message by only using new materials.
Following Khosrow I’s use of spolia as a counterpoint to the discussion about new against old building materials, it is crucial to go back and have a look at the discussion regarding using architectural materials from ruins at closer distances since it is relatively harder to explain. Firstly, there are examples where capitals and column
75 Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia,” 345; Al-Tabari, The History of Al-Tabari: The Sasanids, the Byzantines, the Lakmids and Yemen Vol 5, trans. Clifford Edmund Bosworth (SUNY Press, 1999): 158.
76 Erich Kettenhofen, “Deportations,” Encyclopædia Iranica, VII/3: 297-312.
77 Al-Tabari, The History of Al-Tabari, 158.
78 Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia,” 347.
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shafts were used at greater distances from their initial location, though it is difficult to prove how far these materials were transported from one place to another.79 Some patrons did not want to use any spolia that were available in nearby places but brought spolia from Rome or Roman capitals. In fact, some architectural pieces in Cordoba, built during the first century of the Umayyad Emirate, were from Seville or Merida.80 However, this effort of bringing secondary materials from outside of the city can be a pragmatic solution since, as Antonio Pena pointed out, the scarcity of reusable materials in Cordoba might have caused such a decision by the architects of the emir, or it is because that the urban expansion of Cordoba during the caliphal period led this result.81 Daniel König, on the other hand, argued that based on literary texts like Mūsā al-Rāzı̄’s Ta’rıj muluk al-Andalus (History of the Kings of al-Andalus), the “Roman and Visigothic past had become part of a regional collective memory that was specifically Andalusi.”82 S. Calvo Capilla also backed König and stated that bringing Roman spolia from distant lands was not only pragmatic but by doing that, the aim was to legitimize the Umayyad power and presence in Cordoba.83 Although I will dig deeper into the symbolic use of spolia in the following parts, it is crucial to keep in mind that sometimes both pragmatic and symbolic perspectives can help to understand and observe the reasons behind spolia use.
79 Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins,” 86.
80 Susana Calvo Capilla, “Spolia and Classical Revivals in Legitimacy Discourses: From Cordoba to the Mamluk Mosques of Cairo,” in Artistic and Cultural Dialogues in the Late Medieval Mediterranean, ed. Maria Marcos Cobaleda (Palgrave Macmillan, 2021): 59.
81 Antonio Peña, Estudio de La Decoración Arquitectónica Romana y Análisis Del Reaprovechamiento de Material En La Mezquita Aljama de Córdoba (2010); Mattia Guidetti. In the Shadow of the Church: The Building of Mosques in Early Medieval Syria (Leiden, The Netherlands: Brill, 2016); Greenhalgh, Marble Past, Monumental Present.
82 Daniel G. König, Arabic-Islamic Views of the Latin West. Tracing the Emergence of Medieval Europe (Oxford, 2015): 165.
83 Capilla, “Spolia and Classical Revivals,” 60.
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For the early Byzantine period things were similar to the case of Cordoba, meaning that the Christianization of the empire created relatively big changes across the urban landscape. Temples and some public municipality buildings were abandoned, and spolia became more available as a ready building material and from that point onwards, spolia use in buildings set off as a trend.84 Despite the Codex Theodosianus and Codex Justinianus banning architectural spoliation due to its negative effects on the urban landscape, the imperial legislation can be considered as a concrete proof of how spoliation was becoming a trend, necessitating the issuance of legislation to avoid such a practice.85 In addition, Roman legislation opens the way for researchers to argue that the reason behind this practice is because of economic instability.86
The connection between economic instability and spoliation is undeniable, and convenience is one of the main reasons why spoliation occurred from the early Byzantine period to the Umayyads. Yet it is not the sole motive behind this practice since, as it can be observed through the examples of Khusraw I, Constantine the Great and Cordoba, things get more complicated when the political agenda of patrons who were in charge of the construction process comes into the picture.
84Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 397.
85 Codex Theodosianus. Ed. Theore Mommsen and Paul Martin Meyer. Theodosiani libri XVI cum constitutionibus Sirmondianis et leges Novellae ad Theodosianum pertinentes. (Berlin: Weidemann, 1905). For more information on the Codex of Theodosianus and the regulations regarding spoliation see, Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 397. Also see, Saradi-Mendelovici, “Christian Attitudes,” 50. For the English translation of the Codex Theodosianus, see: The Theodosian Code and Novels and the Sirmodian Constitutions, trans. Clyde Pharr (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1952).See Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 397.
86 Ibid., 397; Pierre Maraval, Grégoire de Nysse. Lettres. Introduction, texte critique, traduction, notes et index (Paris: Les Editions du Cerf, 1990): 296.
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2.2 Aesthetic Value
Three of the most examined examples that shows how the economic difficulties were not the only explanation when it comes to the use of spolia are the building programs in Constantinople and Rome during the fourth century AD. Starting with Constantine the Great, an immense construction program took place and spolia were first used on extensive levels.87 Examples that were built during his reign were the Arch of Constantine, The Basilica of St. Peter and the Lateran Basilica. Given the fact that these premises were constructed during the reign of Constantine, presumably it is fair to assume that if there was an extreme financial scarcity, Constantine would not have been able to initiate his building program.88
In addition to that, the aesthetic qualities of marble, the beauty of statues and colored stones were also highly appreciated in Byzantium. The Byzantines were able to interpret marbles from different aesthetic viewings, which Bente Kiilerich named as focal (specific) and global (dispersed).89 In particular, Kiilerich examined the marble in Hagia Sophia by using both written sources and art historical evidence, meaning that she went from analyzing the ekphrasis of Paul the Silentiary and Procopius’s De Aedificis to modern psychological studies that shed light on ancient viewers’ perception of space. Indeed, research showed that Byzantine people used to find symmetrical patterns more
87 Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 103.
88 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 16; Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 104; Hugo Brandenburg, “The Use of Older Elements in the Architecture of Fourth-and Fifth-Century Rome: A Contribution to the Evaluation of Spolia,” in Reuse Value: Spolia and Appropriation in Art and Architecture from Constantine to Sherrie Levine, ed. Richard Brilliant and Dale Kinney (Routledge, 2011), 57.
89 Bente Kiilerich, “The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble in Byzantium: From Global Impression to Focal Attention,” Art Medievale IV, no.2 (2012): 24.
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appealing than asymmetrical ones.90 Also, psychobiological studies suggested that for focal viewing, the viewer scans the space to get a general impression.91 During this process, eyes do not stay fixed for a long time. Then, eyes start to single out specific parts of the space and create more focal attention.92 This behavior caught Killerich’s attention while he was examining the works of Procopius and Paul the Silentiary, and she stated that the medieval viewer was also aware of such distinction. For instance, she stated while talking about Hagia Sophia that “in focal viewing the spectator’s attention is directed to the emperor’s realm: the expensive marbles procured from all three continents, the excellent craftsmanship and the artistic quality.”93 For the global viewing “the church is seen as an expression of incomprehensible heavenly splendor.”94
In fact, spoliation and new aesthetic values, different from the classical past, developed simultaneously. Originally derived from Latin the term Varietas was an aesthetic concept of the Late Antiquity and the Middle Ages especially when it comes to churches in Rome, Italy and the Balkans.95 These churches and basilicas were supposedly built according to an ancient canon that “had required colonnades with identical shafts and capitals.”96 However, these Christian buildings were often constructed with differently colored shafts and mixed capitals but only similar shafts and
90 Jacobsen, T et al., “Brain Correlates of Aesthetic Judgement of Beauty,” Neurolmage 29, no.1 (2006): 277.
91 Kiilerich, “The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble,” 25.
92 Harold L. Kundel, “Visual Perception and Image Display Terminals,” Radiologic clinics of North America 24, no.1 (1986): 69-78; Kiilerich, “The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble,” 22.
93 Kiilerich, “The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble,” 24.
94 Ibid., 24.
95 Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 105.
96 Philipp Niewöhner, “Varietas, Spolia, and the End of Antiquity in East and West,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. Ivana Jevtić and Suzan Yalman (Istanbul: ANAMED, 2018), 237.
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capitals were usually placed symmetrically and faced towards each other.97 Scholars like John Onians suggested that these variations in shape, size, color and use of numerous capital types were related to an effort to visually divide space and give it a lively look for the Christian churches.98 On the other hand, one might wonder whether the same variety of architectural pieces and aesthetic value could be achieved with new materials. A counterpoint would be the interesting fact that some of the spolia in premises were recarved during the construction process like in the case of San Marco at Venice.99 As a result, aesthetic appreciation and the ability to view aesthetic value was something that the Byzantines were capable of. Therefore, when it comes to reused marble stones and statues, it is plausible to argue that spoliation was not a form of abrupt use of secondhand materials in new buildings.100
2.3 Symbolic / Ideologic Reuse
Spoliation was often entailed in the transfer of possession and seen as a reflection of triumph over the enemy. It does make sense given the fact that, as discussed above, the meaning of the concept was the spoils of war. Nevertheless, in light of developments in recent scholarship, it is now clear that the incorporation of spolia was a more complex and multifaceted process with no absolutes. Displaying the architectural pieces and artifacts of defeated enemies was, indeed, a very archaic exercise but it remains
97 Niewöhner, “Varietas, Spolia, and the End of Antiquity,” 238.
98 John Onians, Bearers of Meaning: The Classical Orders in Antiquity, the Middle Ages, and the Renaissance (Princeton University Press, 1990); Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne”; Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 396.
99 Niewöhner, “Varietas, Spolia, and the End of Antiquity,” 256; Bergmeier, “The Production of Ex Novo Spolia and the Creation of History in Thirteenth-Century Venice.”
100 Maria Fabricius Hansen, The Eloquence of Appropriation: Prolegomena to an Understanding of Spolia in Early Christian Rome (L’Erma di Bretschneider, 2003): 18.
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challenging to detect whether these materials were taken as a war booty or another ideological reason.
2.3.1 History building
To give an example, Venice developed a complex relationship with Rome and Constantinople during the thirteenth century. The urban upgrade of Venice after the Fourth Crusade in 1204 became a turning point for the city since Venice started to overlay its city with Byzantine spoils. Spolia brought from Constantinople and other parts of the empire have been interpreted by scholars as materials that present triumphalism.101 This perspective has been deconstructed by Fabio Barry with his argument stating that the urban landscape of Venice after 1204 started to imitate Constantinople (imitatio Constantinopoleos).102
As Cardinal Bessarion emphasized St. Mark’s Basilica and Piazza San Marco, the center of Venice, became an urban replica of Hagia Sophia and its surroundings and made Venice quasi alterum Bysantium (almost another Byzantium).103 Otto Demus famously argued that the Venetians aimed to promote their city-state as the successor of Rome and Byzantium by integrating spoils into the premises that they built. However, even Demus thought, to some extent, that the spolia brought from distant lands were related to the triumphal ideology. In fact, he categorized the spolia on the southern wall
101 Otto Demus and Ferdinando Forlati, The Church of San Marco in Venice (Dumbarton Oaks, 1960): 113.
102 Fabio Barry, “Disecta Membra: Ranieri Zeno, the Imitation of Constantinople, the Spolia Style, and Justice at San Marco,” in San Marco, Byzantium, and the Myths of Venice, ed. Henry Maguire and Robert S. Nelson (Washington DC: Dumbarton Oaks, 2010): 10.
103 Debra Pincus, “Venice and the Two Romes: Byzantium and Rome as a Double Heritage in Venetian Culture Politics,” Artibus et Historiae 13, no. 26 (1992): 106; Labowsky, Bessarion’s Library and the Biblioteca Marciana.
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of St. Mark as a “trophy wall”.104 However, a closer scrutiny of spolia on the façade of St. Mark revealed that the spolia were actually crafted as ex-novo spolia meaning that these spoils were locally carved and the Venetian artists of the thirteenth century made them look like the Late Antique examples.105 On the trophy wall, an unusual multitude of drilled holes and floral images that go beyond the frame are some examples that show how stylistically different the spolia on the wall are compared to the Late Antique ones. Another example is the Morosini Sarcophagus, dedicated to the Doge of Venice Michele Morosini (1308-1382), in the northern narthex of St. Mark which is substantially a product of the thirteenth century. Some of the elements, like monumental censers, carved into the stone show no parallels with the late antique examples.106 Indeed, there are some late antique examples like those on the imperial mosaic of Justinian in San Vitale however, censers became a popular artistic element, especially during the Medieval Period.107 Nevertheless, the presence of censers should not be a concern while trying to date a particular spolium. Instead, the usage should be the concern since, for the Morosini Sarcophagus, censers were embedded as image dividers of figures on the lower segment.108 Unlike the late antique examples in Ravenna, censers did not have a strong representation. By the same token, the upper register of the spolium depicts apostles surrounding Christ, with the lower part showing a female figure surrounded by some other figures. Bergmeier said that the late antique examples are different in terms of composition, where Christ is usually presented on the upper part,
104 Demus and Forlati, The Church of San Marco in Venice, 113.
105 Armin F. Bergmeier, “The Production of Ex Novo Spolia and the Creation of History in Thirteenth-Century Venice,” Mitteilungen Des Kunsthistorischen Institutes in Florenz 62, no. 2/3 (2020): 154.
106 Bergmeier, “Ex Novo Spolia”, 133.
107 Debra Pincus, “Venice and the Two Romes,” 32.
108 Bergmeier, “Ex Novo Spolia”, 134.
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and a row of apostles are flanking the Virgin.109 Therefore, this stylistic divergence might argue for a later date. It is plausible for someone to categorize these types of spolia in St. Mark as triumphalist since the style is highly like those produced in Late Antiquity. As a material, divorced from a specific milieu, the ex-novo spolia on the façades of St. Mark may not represent triumphalist ideology but may offer much more genuine access to the phenomenon of history building and inheritance.
2.3.2 Memory
Another symbolic connotation regarding spolia use can be to keep the past and memory alive instead of crafting a new historical narrative. To give an example, the Fourth Crusade in 1204 pushed Byzantines to leave the administration of Constantinople and retreat to neighboring places. The fragmentation of the empire into numerous centers affected the political structures in the Mediterranean. These emerging polities (the Empires of Nicaea, Trebizond, and the Despotate of Epirus) claimed themselves as the rightful political and religious heirs of “the Romans”.110 This can be observed in the fortifications of one of the new political centers, Nicaea, which later became the capital of the Nicaean Empire.111
As Livia Bevilacqua demonstrated in her work about the spolia on the fortifications of Nicaea, that the first emperor of Nicaea Theodore I Laskaris appointed himself as the heir to the throne in Constantinople.112 By examining the encomium in
109 Ibid., 133.
110 George Ostrogorski, History of the Byzantine State (Rutgers University Press, 1986), 423.
111 Clive Foss and Jacob Tulchin, Nicaea: A Byzantine Capital and Its Praises (Holy Cross Orthodox Press, 2005), 159; Livia Bevilacqua, “Displaying the Past in Byzantium. Figural Spolia on the City Gates of Nicaea (13th c.),” Actual Problems of Theory and History of Art 175, (2013): 145.
112 Richard Krautheimer, Early Christian and Byzantine Architecture (The Yale University Press Pelican History of Art, 1992), 291.
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praise of the Great City of Nicaea and the deeds of his grandfather and father Theodore I Laskaris and John III Doukas Vatatzes, Theodore II Doukas Laskaris, the emperor of Nicaea from 1254 to 1258, gave interesting insights about the mentality of the people living in the empire and the political atmosphere of the period.113 In the praise Laskaris said “you have saved the empire by being its refuge when Constantinople was taken, and by resisting all enemy assaults.”114 The way he talked about Nicaea as the successor of the Byzantine heritage, in a nostalgic way, may give a glimpse into the mentality of the Laskaris dynasty and their political ideology. Close to the end of the praise, Laskaris narrated a complex metaphor to show how the Latin conquest was an illness and cannot be regarded as the continuation of Rome. According to this metaphor, Laskaris likened Nicaea to a heart that draws and pumps blood, reviving the body, like Constantinople used to do.115
Clive Foss stated that this metaphor gives more information in light of Byzantine medical doctrine about the innate heart, which was a consensus for society at the time.116 The doctrine proclaims that the heart creates the body’s warmth, and without a heart, there would be no warmth or life.117 This portrayal of Nicaea as the new heart of the body shows how Laskaris aimed to justify his dynasty as the continuation of the throne. In addition to this, the continuous effort of making a connection between the idea of longing for the lost capital and self-legitimization efforts is worthy to investigate since using memory as a political tool can be observed via the text and its reflection is visible
113 Foss and Tulchin, Nicaea, 160
114 Ibid., 160.
115 Ibid., 161.
116 Ibid., 162.
117 Ibid., 162.
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in the outer rings of walls and four main gates of Nicaea through spolia, an issue I will soon return on.118 It is known that, as Laskaris also mentioned, the outer city walls were built under the reign of John III Doukas Vatatzes, Laskaris’s father.119
Constantinople (Istanbul gate) opens to the north, and the road leads to Constantinople. It has a triple passageway which was built in different periods. The inner part has a Roman triumphal arch from Late Antiquity. The second layer was decorated with two masks retrieved from the Roman theatre. The outer part, built by the Laskaris dynasty, has four ancient sculptures in total. The one on the left-hand side of the gate is a marble block with three standing woman carvings. Bevilacqua stated that this carving was perhaps part of a large frieze or a triumphal monument, and it is difficult to identify those female figures since the surface is worn out.120 This marble is capped with a carving with human faces on it that was a lid of a sarcophagus. Apparently, the other sculpture on the right side of the gate was again retrieved from a different grave. Underneath, there is a marble block with knight carvings on it. Presumably, the spolia is dated back to the third century and removed from a triumphal arch built during the Tetrarchy period.121
The Lefke gate, the one that faces east, and the road that leads to central Anatolia, specifically Ankara and Konya, consists of a triple passageway similar to the Istanbul gate. The outer wall has “two twin altars, or perhaps statue bases, have been placed symmetrically next to the two jambs, and two reliefs have been incorporated in
118 Halil İnalcık, İznik throughout History (Türkiye İş Bankası Kültür Yayınları, 2003), 255.
119 Foss and Tulchin, Nicaea, 160.
120 Bevilacqua, “Displaying the Past in Byzantium,” 179.
121 Ibid., 180.
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the corner between the curtain and the tower on the right. They depict a display of trophies and a triumphal scene respectively.”122 On the other hand, for the Lake Gate that looks to the west, it is indeed challenging to talk about any spolia since this part of the fortification has been destroyed. For the so-called Yenişehir Gate, to the south, it is difficult to find any decoration like the Lefke and Constantinople gates. However, the absence of data for this passageway should not be misleading since the gate was as important as the other ones. It led to the southbound highway to Ionia, an ancient region on the western coast of Anatolia. Interestingly, this gate was not embellished with extensive use of spolia and there was not such detailed decoration.
Here, Bevilacqua pointed out that the lack of spolia on the Ionia gate might be due to the position of the gate itself. For instance, both Istanbul and Lefke gates were looking at the bordering states or in other words the political entities that took the Byzantine lands like The Latin Empire of Constantinople and the Seljuk Sultanate of Konya. So, decorating these gates extensively with spolia from Roman times might indicate that the new Byzantine emperor aimed to create a nostalgic space for the people. With an emphasis on the lost capital, he wanted to show his rule as the continuation of the Roman or Byzantine Empire. Therefore, one cannot see a richly decorated outer gate for the one that faces Ionia since the territory was under Byzantine control during that period.123 Indeed, it is not certain that the Nicaean administration aimed to give such a message via architectural material, but by merging the textual evidence and detecting the
122 Livia Bevilacqua, “Spolia on City Gates in the Thirteenth Century: Byzantium and Italy,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era ed. Ivana Jevtić and Suzan Yalman (Istanbul: ANAMED, 2018), 180.
123 Ibid., 181.
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sense of longing and efforts of self-legitimization, one might assume such a conclusion.124
In view of the gates of Nicaea, it is probable to assert that spolia served as a tool not only to give triumphal messages. Although some scenes on spolia gave such a triumphal message, the textual interpretation showed that the relationship between spolia and space suggests that the Nicaean administration might have utilized spolia on the gates to emphasize or strengthen the sense of longing for lost territories or to show themselves as the rightful heir to the Byzantine throne.
2.3.3 Religious Triumphalism and Apotropaic Function
Differently, in numerous other cases, spoliation was considered to symbolize the victory of Christianity over the defeated Paganism. Brandenburg argued that the display of pagan statues in Constantinople had a political intention behind it. The primary purpose, or the one on the surface, was to show Christian victory over paganism.125 In this respect, the two Medusa heads in Cistern Basilica at Constantinople are a good sample to tackle. A famous character in Greek mythology, statues of Medusa were utilized to protect buildings. However, in the case of Cistern Basilica, heads were displayed upside down and placed below columns. This use can be interpreted as an act of ridiculing the pagan religion done by the emperor Justinian I.126 This mindset can also be visible in some fifth-century literary works like the Life of St. Porphyry of Gaza written by Mark
124 Bevilacqua, “Spolia on City Gates,” 181.
125 Brandenburg, “The Use of Older Elements,” 63.
126 Giorgio Verdiani, “From the Archaeological Reality to the Digital Reconstruction: An Architectural Drawing Challenge,” Designarecon (2017): 4.6. See also Ingela Nilsson, “The Art of Transforming Things in Byzantium,” in Spoliation as Translation: Medieval Worlds in the Eastern Mediterranean, ed. Ivana Jevtić and Ingela Nilsson, (Turnhout: Brepols. 2021): 25.
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the Deacon. According to the story, the saint ordered the yard of the newly built church in Marneion in Gaza to be paved with marble retrieved from a pagan temple. By doing that, the saint aimed to make people step on pagan symbols while entering the church.127
Using spolia from pagan times as flooring and steps is not a specific practice for the Byzantines. There are many pagan stones facing upwards on the floors of twelfth-century Churches in Gotland, Sweden. Incorporating spolia on the floor of the presbytery might indicate that the intention was again to mock the pagan belief and show Christian dominance.128 For the thirteenth-century churches of Gotland, on the other hand, it is possible to observe that the spolia started to be incorporated into choirs and towers. For instance, in the thirteenth-century church of Bro Kyrka, one can observe fifth-century picture stones incorporated into the walls. Interestingly, one stone was placed in a horizontal position next to the entrance. The stone is at eye level which might refer to the fact that the intention was to make it visible. However, the question remains regarding the horizontal placement of the stone. Like the Medusa example in Cistern Basilica, this choice of implementing a pagan stone into a church in a horizontal shape is because of showing how Christianity overcame paganism.
These negative implications connected to the pagan past is not the only way of using spolia as a tool to show religious ideology. There were also examples where pagan monuments were incorporated into Christian culture. In the fourth-century work called Praeparatip evangelica the author Eusebius argued that ancient philosophers paved the
127 Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia,” 401; Raymond Van Dam, “From Paganism to Christianity at Late Antique Gaza.” Viator 16, (1985): 1-20.
128 Sigmund Oehrl, “Pagan Stones in Christian Churches. Medieval Views on the Past (the Example of Gotland Sweden),” Questiones Medii Aevi Novae 2019, (2020): 77.
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way for the Christian faith in their works and the theological problems in paganism helped Christianity to thrive. Eusebius also stated that ancient cultures can be Christianized. Saradi argued that making allegorical interpretations makes it possible to integrate pagan symbols and materials into a Christian context. In addition to that, ancient statues were regarded as objects that were inhabited by demons and evil spirits, therefore, they had to be cleansed or purified by the Christians.129 This method, indeed, was a positive way of incorporating pagan symbols into Christianity, unlike mocking or domination exercises.
Again, from Sweden, in the late twelfth-century church called Akeback, a pagan picture stone was incorporated into the nave wall and rotated to the side like the one in Bro Kyrka. Again, the horizontal placement might indicate the fall of paganism. According to Oehl at Alskog kyrka ,69 Gothem kyrka III,70 Levide kyrka 2 and 3,71 and Roma kyrka 2.72 “the pagan picture cycles on the Gotlandic picture stones used for bases of baptismal fonts might also have been selected with this intention in mind and conspicuously forced into the service of baptism, in order to illustrate the victory of the Christian faith over the demons, i.e. the pagan gods.”130 Basically, making a correlation between the Christian practice of baptism and pagan icons gives insights into the mentality of Christian Vikings in Gotland. They did not only use spolia from the pagan period for mocking or showing dominance, but they, in fact, purified them.
The apotropaic use of spolia is not only visible for churches. The same function can also be seen in fortifications. There are examples, like the walls of Thessaloniki,
129 Saradi-Mendelovici, “Christian Attitudes,” 56.
130 Oehrl, “Pagan Stones in Christian Churches,” 82.
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Amorium, Nicaea and Ankara, which visually present the city’s history through embedded material and building phases. As a result of decisions and actions of numerous patrons and individuals, like builders, buildings like fortifications are significant when it comes to detecting the collective identity at a specific or a longer period.131 Yet, fortifications were often highlighted because of their defensive purposes and practicality, with no focus on the possibility of these premises interacting with the population on numerous social, political and religious levels.132 This identity on many levels can be seen from coinage, praises and literary texts where fortifications were often depicted as a symbol of the urban identity.133
The walls of Thessaloniki, for instance, were erected as a result of continuous building phases from the foundation of the city in the fourth century BC until the beginning of the twentieth century AD, with the building phases in the fourth and fifth centuries AD were the most vital ones as this period set the boundaries of the city.134 On the one hand, the extensive use of spolia for the walls of Thessaloniki shows the availability of materials for spoliation and their visibility even from a distance, showing how the spolia wanted to be seen.135 Similar to the fortified gates of Nicaea, the two
131 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 36.
132 James Crow, “Fortifications and urbanism in late antiquity: Thessaloniki and other easter cities: Recent Research in Late-Antique Urbanism,” Historische Bibliographie Online (2001): 90; Ine Jacobs, “Gates in Late Antiquity in the Eastern Mediterranean,” BABESCH- Bulletin Antieke Beschaving 84, no.0 (2009): 197-213; Timothy E. Gregory, “Procopius on Greece,” An Tard 8, (2001): 109; Nikolas Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades: The Walls of Thessaloniki,” Monument and Environment 9, (2005): 15.
133 For more see: Jacobs, “Gates in Late Antiquity in the Eastern Mediterranean”; Nikolas Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades”; Bakirtzis, “The Practice, Perception and Experience of Byzantine Fortification,” in The Byzantine World, ed. Paul Stephenson (Routledge, 2010), 352-71.
134 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 16.
135 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 17.
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main gates of the walls were opening up to the main roadways from the west.136 These gates were embellished with spolia relatively more than the other parts, and therefore, it is possible to argue that spoliated materials were meant to be seen, and the builders, most probably, visually used these pieces to give certain messages to the audience at the time.
The sculptural pieces from pagan times, like animal figures and statues, were integrated into different parts of the fortifications. Bakirtzis interpreted that these remains of the pagan art had an apotropaic role. Henry Maguire tackled this phenomenon and pointed out, for the thirteenth-century Byzantine church called the Little Metropolis, that these pagan symbols were believed to hold a potentially evil power and, therefore, apotropaic powers of the cross used by the Byzantines to neutralize the negative impacts.137 Bakirtzis stated that crosses on the walls of Thessaloniki might have the same function based on his analysis of John Kaminiates’ narration of the siege of the city by the Saracens in 904.138 According to the source, the cross became a weapon of defense and a tool that motivated the people against enemy attacks.139 As a result, what can be seen from these examples is that the meaning embedded into a certain spolium can change due to the way it is utilized. A spolium from the pagan period can signify the victory of Christianity, or the pagan figures can be integrated not only into the walls but into the belief system as well.
136 J. A. S. Evans, “The Walls of Thessalonica,” Byzantion 47, (1977).
137 Henry Maguire, Rhetoric, Nature and Magic in Byzantine Art (Ashgate, 1998): 169.
138 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 21.
139 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 22.
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Based on the different symbolic connotations presented, it is to some extent evident that materials were embedded into various buildings, and the audience associated them with spolia’s first or second uses. It is crucial to reiterate that this interpretation is possible thanks to a careful analysis of various literary sources and art historical analysis of architectural pieces.140 Some, like the gates of Nicaea, seemed to have the intention to show imperial propaganda by making a connection with the past. This propaganda was also visible on the Arch of Constantine.141 In a similar vein, reused objects may have been utilized because the intention was to implement new meaning to the material and build a new historical narrative, like the urban decoration of Venice. Furthermore, spolia use for some Christian religion complexes showed that the aim of reusing materials from the Pagan past might be symbolic to refer to victory or an act of appropriation. The utilitarian perspective suggested that the original function and meaning of reused members were disregarded because they were placed upside down and mislocated. However, as we have seen, these icons of the past religion served the Christian present and showed apotropaic function.142
2.3.4 Diachronic Reuse
Ferdinand de Saussure, a well-known linguist of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, wrote on the distinction between synchronic and diachronic features of semiotics. He argued that depending on the person's or historical period’s perspective, people tend to use different meanings for the same words, and it affects people's way of
140 Liverani, “Reading Spolia in Late Antiquity,”33.
141 Jas Elsner, “From the Culture of Spolia to the Cult of Relics: The Arch of Constantine and the Genesis of Late Antique Forms,” Papers of the British School at Rome 68, (2000): 151.
142 Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition of Ruins,” 86.
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thinking and mindset.143 Consequently, Saussure’s work inspired Juri Lotman, a famous Russian-Estonian semiotician, to craft a model of cultural theory that particularly focused on static and dynamic characteristics of a culture where he stated that each of a culture’s own and foreign cultural languages and literature affects the society by changing the collective memory and reevaluating the culture’s historical past.144 So, if words can diachronically change due to local and foreign interactions, one can wonder whether it can be the same case for spolia.
Given the fact that one of the themes in the volume called Spolia Reincarnated is called biographies of monuments and it “illustrates the recent trend to approach buildings diachronically and consider all stages in their lives,” it is plausible to argue that spolia can evolve, like words, diachronically.145 As Paul Magdalino, in the Epilogue of the same volume, concluded “the culture of spolia is not only a historical phenomenon” but “an intellectual construct that only exists through verbal articulation.”146 Meaning that spolia is a cultural construct that is articulated. This articulation is tricky, to some extent, since the ones who added value to reused objects are not limited to the ones like patrons who decided to use spolia in new constructs, the builders who built the premises and the people who saw the erected building.147 People who commented, examined and wrote about spolia and spoliation are also added to the
143 Ferdinand de Saussure, Course in General Linguistics, trans. Wade Baskin, Perry Meisel and Haun Saussy (Columbia University Press, 2011).
144 Marek Tamm, “Introduction: Cultural History Goes Global,” Cultural History 9, no. 2 (2020): 138. Also see: Juri Lotman, Culture and Explosion (De Gruyter, 1992).
145 Ivana Jevtić, “Introduction,” 6.
146 Paul Magdalino, “Epilogue: A Meditation on the Culture of Spolia,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018): 342.
147 Magdalino, “Epilogue: A Meditation on the Culture of Spolia,” 342.
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articulation of the concept. This makes spolia use a dynamic entity that challenges the collective memory of the people and reevaluates the past.
For instance, Nicholas Melvani investigated the edifices that were restored during the Palaiologan Renaissance, a period that coincided with the last dynasty of the empire from 1261 AD when Constantinople was recaptured by Michael VIII Palaiologos to 1453 AD, the fall of the city. Robin Cormack argued that this restoration period was not merely to recover the city from the damage done under the Latin occupation, but also it was a building process of revival of the empire.148 Melvani’s work also proved this perspective. By examining reused architectural pieces on buildings, Melvani pointed out that the presence of materials from different periods, like Early, Middle and Late Byzantine, made each building a living entity.149 Interestingly, Melvani also stated that the patrons at the time were well aware of the chronology of each architectural piece, and the embellishment of these materials into churches and other edifices was deliberate.150 It is significant to be careful here that this does not mean that the use of spolia was purely symbolic. For instance, there were instances where spolia were reused internally, or they were gathered from places in close proximity. However, with relatively limited architectural materials during the Palaiologan Renaissance, patrons managed to reflect the city’s history in the renovated buildings through spolia.
This type of reuse is not only observable for the edifices in Constantinople. The walls of Thessaloniki and Ankara. When the walls of Thessaloniki are brought under
148 Robin Cormack, Byzantine Art (Oxford History of Art, 2018): 201.
149 Nicholas Melvani, “Late, Middle, and Early Byzantine Sculpture in Palaiologan Constantinople,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018): 160
150 Melvani, “Late, Middle, and Early Byzantine Sculpture,” 160.
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scrutiny, it is possible to detect building phases from different periods. This rich pattern reflects the visual culture of the city and shows the history through material.151 The same diachronic function of spolia can be visible for the fortifications of Ankara, where one can see different building phases. In addition to that, it is also possible to see the whole history of Ankara spoliated and reused on the fortifications. Indeed, this intriguing side is going to be examined in more detail in the following chapter. The diachronic use of internal and external spolia even continued during the Seljuk and the Ottoman periods. Most of the churches were converted into mosques, and spolia were often reemployed. This conversion both gave a new meaning to spolia and provided another life for the Byzantine legacy.
2.3.5 Non-Physical Reuse
Richard Brilliant’s widely accepted distinction between spolia in se and spolia in re made scholars reconsider the concept of spolia. Specifically, spolia in re invited researchers to consider non-physical or virtual objects.152 This distinction also showed how spolia “shifted from the realms of ideology and practicality to those of memory, history and creative conceptualization.”153 For instance, Ünver Rüstem explored how eighteenth-century Ottoman Baroque architecture used Byzantine citations, and Suna Çağaptay investigated the migration of the double-headed eagle from Byzantines to Seljuks adding a new layer to Brilliant’s spolia in re. According to Çağaptay, the reproduction or quotation of the double-headed eagle, as an idea, became a political and
151 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 15.
152 Akiko M. Sumi, “Poetry and Architecture: A Double Imitation in Siniyyah of Ahmad Shawqi,” Journal of Arabic Literature 39, no.1 (2008): 92
153 Armando Rabaça, “Spolia and the Open Work,” Footprint 16, no.2 (2023): 42.
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cultural statement.154 Although this symbol was appropriated by Seljuks, Artuqids, Byzantine Trebizond and later Ottomans, the core message of the symbol remained, to some extent, the same, which was about conveying earthly and heavenly authority. The meaning gets more complex because the image is also appropriated by the aforementioned civilizations with different uses, such as warding off evil, establishing connections with communities inside and outside the empires and “pursuing transcendence with the knowledge of morality.”155
Similarly, the same visual appropriation can be observed with the Lion of Venice, an ancient bronze sculpture of a winged lion located in the Piazza San Marco, which came to be the symbol of the city and of its patron saint, Mark the Evangelist.156 This spolium both works as a spolia in se and in re, the meaning of the sculpture has changed in time and gained new meanings. This reuse is crucial in terms of understanding the possibility of changing the original meaning of the spoliated objects in some cases, both in physical and conceptual ways.
2.4 Conclusions: Perspective and Methodology
To my knowledge, discussions of the pragmatic, symbolic and aesthetic functions of spolia have formulated the central themes of nearly most of the scholarly works. It has also been observed that concepts like space, memory and conceptual motives started to gain more attention. It seems that Eco’s metaphor of the jacket was a great example that explained the trajectory in which spolia studies have found itself. Indeed, the jacket can
154 Suna Çağaptay, “On the Wings of the Double-Headed Eagle: Spolia in Re and Appropriation in Medieval Anatolia,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018): 311.
155 Çağaptay, “On the Wings of the Double-Headed Eagle,” 338.
156 Henry Maguire and Robert S. Nelson, San Marco, Byzantium, and the Myths of Venice, 79.
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be reused in different ways after it gets worn out; for example, one can patch it, reverse it, or mend it. On the other hand, each item of clothing becomes a personal item for the wearer at the end. This personal connection with clothes is tricky since some can carry various social signs according to their texture, color and style. Therefore, they can be a way of expressing identity, ethnicity, belief and social class.157
Here, it is probably worthwhile to reiterate some of the cautions associated with this perspective. Although people personalize clothing items by adding extra levels of both physical and emotional elements, the clothes also affect the user. As Virginia Woolf puts it, “Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than merely to keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us.”158 Clothes also carry memories of people. They can pass from one generation to another, and sometimes, the function might change from being used as a garment in its primary function to a more ornamental object. In addition to that, because of their different stylistic features, clothes can also interact with the space differently. A suit jacket can be worn for special events, and a pair of jeans with personalized patches on them can be categorized as a streetwear item.
Like the clothing and people, spolia use regarded here as a sort of covering jacket for buildings with their pre-attributed symbolic values like the Roman heritage or, for the case of the Arch of Constantine, the predecessors, are always taken into consideration by modern scholars. In the end, whether it is a wearable product that lost its primary function or an architectural component that gained new meanings, the way
157 Nihan Akdemir, “Visible Expression of Social Identity: The Clothing and Fashion,” Gaziantep University Journal of Social Sciences 17, no.4 (2018): 1390.
158 Virginia Wolf, Orlando: A Biography.
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we approach these objects is from an angle that covers the history embedded into the material. As can be observed from the spolia used in Venice, the Byzantine materials brought from Byzantine lands faced a complete change in meaning to the extent that the history infused with the objects was disregarded. This Venetian neglect is visible in nearly most of the narratives, like the foundation myth of the city and the unique longevity of the Venetian civilization.159 The modern perspective offers a different approach to Venetian historiography where the consensus gathers around the fact that even though Venetian historians ignored the Byzantine influence on the city’s history, there is a need to conduct research on that area to be able to test the accuracy of the Venetian authors even though the official Venetian historians did not perceive their own history that way.160
Connecting this distinction between the modern scholarly perception to the ancient, spolia studies are not different when it comes to facing the same complexity. As Dale Kinney warned, researchers should be careful while making an analysis of spolia because the ancient and modern perspectives are different.161 It is true that, as mentioned above, the perception of space in terms of focal and global views are similar, but it is significant to be aware of the fact that ancients might not share the same attentiveness towards studying spolia, especially in longue durée.162
159 James S. Grubb, “When Myths Lose Power: Four Decades of Venetian Historiography,” The Journal of Modern History 58, no.1 (1986): 43.
160 Barry, “Disecta Membra,” 12; Grubb, “When Myths Lose Power.”
161 Kinney, “Rape or Restitution of the Past?”; Kinney, “‘Spolia. Damnatio’ and ‘Renovatio Memoriae’”; Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia”; Kinney, “Roman Architectural Spolia.”
162 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 18.
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So, the question remains: How historians and archaeologists are going to prove the practical, aesthetic and symbolic connotations of a particular spolium? As mentioned above, Esch and Greenhalgh stated that historical texts and textual analogies may help the researcher detect these themes connected to spolia. This idea requires a careful investigation to not jump to conclusions without finding a concrete ground, but whether in se or in re, spolia is a cultural construct that was present in the minds of the different agencies such as the re-use and the despoiler at the time. Nowadays, as Magdalino puts it, “the intellectual commentator” is the new agent who started to construct meaningful results via examining spolia.163 This evaluation gets support from a perusal of literary sources, but “in the final analysis, identifying modes of reuse, and thus determining the spoliation level of a reused object, is a matter of intuitive, expert guesswork moderated by common sense.”164
I argue that this common sense can be constructed on solid ground with the help of utilizing a comparative approach. So far, the examples presented throughout this work hinted at how comparative methodology can function. Basically, examples of spolia used for various political entities between the fourth and thirteenth centuries showed that there are common themes and aspects for each and every case. In fact, the authors that were mentioned above constantly utilized comparisons between case studies. For instance, Bevilacqua analyzed the city gates of Nicaea side by side with the early thirteenth-century gates at Capua, built by the Holy Roman Emperor Frederick II.165 Bakirtzis mentioned the similarity of brickwork between the fortifications of Ankara and
163 Magdalino, “Epilogue: A Meditation on the Culture of Spolia,” 344.
164 Magdalino, “Epilogue: A Meditation on the Culture of Spolia,” 344.
165 Bevilacqua, “Spolia on City Gates,” 184.
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Thessaloniki.166 In their works, Esch, Greenhalgh and Kinney all mentioned different examples and examined all these cases at the same time, comparatively.167 Therefore, this work proposes that a comparative approach can be a useful way to explore the emblematic values when literary sources lack information for the case of Ankara. In addition, examples can demonstrate which spolia are unique in use and which ones may be a part of local and periodical building trends. This way, it is important to go beyond identifying spolia’s original use to a more in-depth examination of its current placement and look, which, in turn, will reveal the series of decisions and choices in their first and subsequent phases of use diachronically. Here, the diachronic approach will be also helpful in terms of moving away from the aforementioned Europe-centric focus of spolia studies meaning that the analysis of Rum Seljuk mentality of spoliation will help this work to explore the so-called eastern spolia use.
Also, this work will utilize digital tools to contextualize the spatial relations of the gates of Ankara, Aslanhane, and Alaeddin Mosques more effectively. Firstly, this work is going to use a photogrammetric method to make 3D models of spolia on the walls of these three edifices. These 3D models will allow researchers to examine the selected spolium in detail in terms of seeing the exact measurements and appreciating the aesthetics of the models better. Also, for conservation, these digital models will be helpful if there is a need for restoration.
Secondly, a georeferenced interactive map is going to be prepared, and two layers of filters will be applied to the spolia map: “Practically Reused Artifacts” will
166 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 17.
167 Esch, “On the Reuse of Antiquity”; Greenhalgh, “Marble Past, Monumental Present”; Kinney, “The Concept of Spolia.”
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refer to the archaeological artifacts that were implemented to the buildings to strengthen the structure or brought from nearby, demolished, Byzantine and Roman edifices. “Symbolically Reused Artifacts” will refer to spolia that have been reused with ideological, apotropaic, and triumphalist functions. The map is going to be in a GIS environment and will be available online. “Practically Reused Artifacts” (in red) are going to be displayed with the following associated data: name, number of items, typology, material, description, photographs and provenance. “Symbolically Reused Artifacts” (in blue) are going to be displayed with the following associated data: name, number of items, typology, material, description, photographs and provenance. Also, it will be possible to find more information about the mosques and gates, which are going to be highlighted in purple (See Appendix, Figure 1). 3D models and a GIS map are going to help this research to detect how individuals of the past directly experienced and perceived the space they lived in. Focusing both on practical and symbolic attributes allows me to acknowledge both types of reuses and go beyond the traditional debate between utility and ideology.
To detect the different ideological motivations behind the spolia use for Ankara, this work is going to take the various Seljuk and Byzantine fortifications, mosques, and churches under scrutiny. Specifically, the thirteenth-century Rum Seljuk premises of Konya and the Byzantine fortifications and churches in Nicaea, Constantinople and Thessaloniki will be investigated more deeply. While examining these cases, I will follow the warnings of Kinney and Greenhalgh regarding not infusing a symbolic context to each spolium and try to use literary sources to find a ground, and when textual evidence is lacking, I use a comparative method to detect symbolic and practical values.
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Lastly, regarding the category of analysis, this work followed the majority of the sources that investigated spolia. It is observed that most studies limited their studies and examples by presenting a specific place, a certain time, a monument and a type of artifact.168 As Frey pointed out, “all things used in a way that is religiously meaningful” is not a specific focus area; it is also too subjective and not defined well.169 Therefore, I follow the structure of many works I mentioned above, which is to limit the examples of reuse and focus on a specific case study regarding place, time, type of building and artifact.
168 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 21.
169 Ibid., 21.
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CHAPTER 3: Fortifications of Ancyra (Ankara)
So far, I have outlined several perspectives of spolia use, primarily focusing on the themes and concepts. These different aspects, however, are not contradictory to each other. They can be visible at the same time and revealing them requires a careful analysis. Therefore, this chapter focuses on a specific case study, which is Ankara's fortifications and city gates of Ankara. It analyses the spoliated objects' possible symbolic and utilitarian connotations with an introduction to the castle's history. I will start with a quick overview of the historical trajectories of Byzantine Ankara, as the background will be necessary, and continue with an analysis of selected spolia on the fortifications.
3.1 History of the city
An instrumental city for the Republic, Ankara, historically known as Angora and Ancyra, is often considered, by the locals, a city with less history than Istanbul and other tourism hotspots. However, as people call it today, the gray city was the home of countless civilizations, like Hattians, Greeks, Hittites, Phyrgians, Galatians, Lydians, Persians, Romans, Byzantines, Seljuks and Ottomans.170 Today, the hill hosts the ruins of Ankara Castle, at the foot of which lay the Temple of Augustus and Rome, Roman baths, the ruins of St.Clement’s church and numerous Rum Seljuk and Ottoman-era houses and premises. It is located on a rocky hill approximately 150 meters above the Ankara River, a tributary stream of the Sakarya river. 171
170 Afif Erzen, İlkçağda Ankara (Türk Tarih Kurumu Yayınları, 2000); Semavi Eyı̇ce, “Bizans Döneminde Ankara,” Anadolu Araştırmaları 14, (2011): 243-64.
171 Clive Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” Dumbatrton Oaks Papers 31, (1977); Stephen Mitchell et al., Roman Ancyra (Yapı Kredi Yayınları, 2017).
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According to the second-century AD writings of Pausanias, the city was a Phyrigian settlement “which Midas, son of Gordius, had founded in former time. And the anchor, which Midas found, was even as late as my time in the sanctuary of Zeus as well a spring called Spring of Midas, water from which they say Midas mixed with wine to capture Silenus”.172 However, finding archaeological evidence regarding the Classical and Hellenistic periods is challenging.173
Ankara was a significant religious, political and economic hub in Roman Asia Minor. This importance is due to the city’s crucial location at the crossroads from Europe to the East, passing through Thrace, Bithynia, and Galatia and reaching Syria.174 The settlement was one of the stops on the Pilgrim’s Road, a road serving pilgrims and armies connecting Constantinople with Nicomedia, Nicaea and Cilician Gates.175 There were also other roads connecting Ankara with “with Dorylaeum and the Propontis, with Gangra and Paphlagonia, and, to the east, with Amasea and the Pontus, Sebastea and the northern part of the frontier, and Cappadocian Caesarea and the Euphrates.”176 In the end, all these routes had commercial and military significance, and Ankara was a supply base on the way to the Eastern frontier.177 Ufuk Serin stressed that many premises, including the city walls, were built by an unnamed benefactor in the third century,
172 Pausanias, Descriptio of Greece, Volume I: Books 1-2 (Attica and Corinth), trans. W.H.S. Jones and H.A. Ormerod (Loeb Classical Library, 1918), 23.
173 Mitchell et al., Roman Ancyra.
174 Ufuk Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara: Topography and Architecture,” in Marmoribus Vestita. Miscellanea in onore di Federico Guidobaldi, ed. Olof Brandt and Philippe Pergola ( Vatican City: Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana, 2011), 1257.
175 Luca Zavagno, “Ancyra and the Anatolian Urbanism in Transition from Late Antiquity to the Early Middle Ages (ca. 550-ca. 800 A.D.),” Bizantinistica 22 (2021): 100; Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1258.
176 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 29.
177 David Magie, Roman Rule in Asia Minor (Princeton University Press, 1950).
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though Ankara was fortified during the Hellenistic period around 275 BC.178 In addition to that, two of the most famous saints of Ankara, St. Clement and St. Plato, lived during the eras of Diocletian, Galerius and the Basil of Ancyra in the third and fourth centuries.179
In the fourth century, Ankara became the seat of the bishop of Galatia, and three church councils were held here in the fourth century.180 The one held in 314 was Orthodox, the second one, in 358, was Semi-Arian, and the one in 375 was Arian.181 In addition to that, Ankara was “originally chosen as the seat of the First Ecumenical Council (held instead at Nicaea in 325).”182 On the other hand, the city was still ruled by a “wealthy pagan aristocracy,” and Christian rulers were the minority.183 The pagan dominance over the city’s administrative branches changed in the fifth century. According to the writings of the bishops of Helenopolis and Aspona, Palladius, and Nilus Ancyranus, Christianity “was already established” during that period.184 According to Ufuk Serin, the construction of religious buildings, including churches, monasteries, and convents, can be considered concrete material proofs of this change that came with
178 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 62; Emin Bosch, Quellen zur Geschichte der Stadt Ankara im Altertum (Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1967); Mitchell et al., Roman Ancyra.
179 See, Aude Busine, “Basil and Basilissa at Ancyra: Local Legends, Hagiography, and Cult,” Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 59, no. 2 (2019).
180 Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1259.
181 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 36; Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1259.
182 Zavagno, “Ancyra and the Anatolian Urbanism in Transition,” 102.
183 Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1261.
184 Ibid., 1261.
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the fifth century.185 Unfortunately, archaeological findings are limited regarding the exact location of these religious premises.186
Although the pre-seventh century period gives a tantalizing glimpse into the city's rich history, like today’s expression of calling it the gray city, Byzantine Ankara was often cast in a negative light during the so-called Byzantine Dark Ages. This obstructive understanding was often mentioned as the so-called discontinuitist perspective that argued the existence of a total collapse of urban life from Late Antiquity until the early tenth century.187 According to Clive Foss, urban life in Ankara was discontinued and abandoned during the seventh century, especially after several sacks by the Persians and then by the Arabs.188 Although this abandonment did not usually mean that everybody living in the city flew away, the urban fabric of Ankara and many other Byzantine towns changed in such a way that the Classic polis were transformed into medieval kastron.189 Numismatic evidence also supports the idea of decline, where coin finds decreased drastically at the beginning of the seventh century. For instance, Luca Zavagno stated that this drop in coins resulted from the Persian sack of the city, which caused urban life to be “maintained only in the intra-moenia area.”190
On the other hand, recent studies have shown that urban settlements of Anatolia like Euchaita, Ephesus, and Ankara did not simply shrink inside the walls or
185 Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1261.
186 Ufuk Serin, “Ankara and the Temple of Rome and Augustus in the Late Antique, Byzantine and Turkish Periods,” Progetto Ancyra. Il Tempio Di Augusto e Roma Ad Ankara, ed. Paula Botteri (Trieste: EUT, 2018), 335-77. Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara.”
187 Alexander Kazhdan and Anthony Cutler, “Continuity and Discontinuity in Byzantine History,” Byzantion 52, (1982): 429 – 478.
188 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 70.
189 Zavagno, “Ancyra and the Anatolian Urbanism in Transition,” 104.
190 Ibid., 104.
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discontinue. The opposing idea of continuity proposed an alternative interpretation, starting with a fact about Ankara becoming the capital of the Opsikion in the late seventh century and, later, the Boukellarian theme in the eighth century.191 As Zavagno stated and compared Ankara with Ephesos, Euchaita and Amorium, things are more complex and sometimes material findings like coins can cause researchers to make audacious conclusions about whether a city thrived or declined.192 The coin findings show no decline for Amorium between the sixth and ninth centuries, meaning that this information can be considered as a counterargument against the discontinuity approach. However, as Cecile Morrison stressed, coin findings alone can not indicate settlement activity.193 Indeed, other material findings like ceramics, glassware and metalwork products can also be helpful when it comes to detecting urban activity. In fact, for the seventh century Amorium, this has been the case with an addition of rebuilding phases in the city’s upper fortifications.194
In light of this, it is possible to observe the continuation of civic life by investigating the building phases of the fortifications for Ankara.195 Arnold Walter Lawrence considered the eighteen closely spaced pentagonal towers, which appear to rise on a rocky hill with a rectangular inner circuit and a curvilinear outer circuit of the Ankara castle, to be a product of an enormous investment.196 The inner circle underwent
191 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 70.
192 Zavagno, “Ancyra and the Anatolian Urbanism in Transition,” 109.
193 Cecile Morrisson, “Coins,” in The Archaeology of Byzantine Anatolia: From the End of Late Antiquity until the Coming of the Turks, ed. Philipp Niewöhner (Oxford Academic, 2017), 76.
194 Christopher Lightfoot and Mücahide Lightfoot, Amorium, a Byzantine City in Anatolia (Homer Yayınları, 2007).
195 Clive Foss and David Winfield, Byzantine Fortifications (University of South Africa, 1986), 135.
196See A. W. Lawrence, “A Skeletal History of Byzantine Fortification,” The Annual of the British School at Athens 78, (1983).
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reconstruction in the seventh century, while the outer section was rebuilt in the ninth century due to numerous Arab attacks.197 The Baths of Caracalla were also in use until the eighth century, and St. Clement’s church was rebuilt in the early ninth century.198 These erected buildings in the aftermath of the destructive Arab raid and takeover of 838 hints at the continuation of the city and urban life. As a result, it is possible to see when and for what reason the fortifications of Ankara went under reconstruction or improved in the seventh and ninth centuries. With that in mind, to assess both the pragmatic and symbolic use of spolia for the case of Ankara, it is worthwhile to investigate the fortification itself in light of the themes and concepts that I have discussed in the previous chapter.
3.2 Walls and Gates
The Byzantine fortification of Ankara has two wall circuits. The inner circuit called İç Kale is located on the top of the citadel hill with “nineteen closely spaced prow-shaped towers along the west, eight on the south side, including a massive courtyard gateway between two projecting towers, and a large circular bastion at the south-east corner, and a further fifteen prow-shaped towers on the east side.”199 As Bevilacqua states: “When seen from a distance, the new citadel of Byzantine Ankara would thus appear impregnable, thanks to its string of pentagonal towers, projecting from the walls in
197 Lawrence, “A Skeletal History of Byzantine Fortification,” 207; Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 1272; Zavagno, “Ancyra and the Anatolian Urbanism,” 11.
198 For more information, see Urs Peschlow, Ankara: Roma ve Bizans Dönemi Arkeolji Mirası, trans. Deniz Saban (Ankara: Koç Üniversitesi Yayınları, 2023).
199 Stephen Mitchell and David French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara (Ancyra): Vol. II Late Roman, Byzantine and Other Texts (Verlag C.H. Beck, 2019), 79.
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resemblance of ship’s prows.”200 Between those octagonal towers, it is difficult to spot the main gate since it is “hidden behind a barbican with an elbow-shaped entrance system” called Kale Kapı (C Kapı) embellished with spolia possibly taken from buildings in close proximity.201 There are also postern gates in the inner circuit of the fortification. One called Gençkapı is facing the western part of the edifice. There are three more postern gates on the eastern side and one more in the northern side of the inner circuit.202 Since these posterns were not the main entrance to the citadel, there were fewer reused materials compared to the main entrance to the inner circuit.
The outer fortifications, Dış Kale, has four to five rectangular towers and on the north-western side is where the main gate called Hisar Kapı is located, and Dışkapı is located on the western side of the outer lines of walls. It is also possible to detect spoliated materials, particularly massive blocks, on these gates of the fortification. However, none were embellished with spolia as extensive as the Kale Kapı (C Kapı). European travelers have observed the castle or citadel since the sixteenth century, and most of the careful archaeological analyses were conducted by scholars like Guillaume de Jerphanion (1925- 1927), Marcel Restle (1966), Clive Foss (1977), Sinan Sülüner (2005) and Urs Peschlow (2015). The consensus about the date of the inner castle suggested that this part was erected during the reign of Constans II (641- 648 AD) as a precaution against the Arab threat. The İç Kale was constructed after 654 AD. On the other hand, Foss, Restle and Belke argued that the outer fortifications should be erected
200 Livia Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance: Classical Antiquities Reused and Displayed in Byzantine Cities,” in Actual Problems of Theory and History of Art: Collection of articles, ed. V. Svetlana. (St. Petersburg, 2015): 203.
201 Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 203.
202 Peschlow, Ankara, 133.
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around the ninth century. Meanwhile, al Mu’tasim suggested that the upper defenses were rebuilt by Michael III in 859 AD.203
Mitchell stressed that these arguments are not all convincing since literary, epigraphic and archaeological evidence can misdirect the actual date of the construction. For instance, Gregoire’s analysis suggested that the citadel was entirely built by Michael III, based on the inscriptions.204 However, archeological and other subsequent works showed that the erection of the fortifications was of an earlier date. Therefore, it is rather challenging to talk about when spolia were integrated into the walls, given the fact that there are different views and approaches. However, some inscriptions, in fact, reveal when the fortification or some parts of it went under construction or reconstruction. With this in mind, it will be possible to state that it is unknown which particular spolium Micheal III, in the ninth century while he was restoring the fortifications, incorporated to the walls of Ankara, but indeed he kept the already existing spolia intact. This aspect can be interesting when it comes to understanding the possible symbolic aspect of spoliated materials embedded into walls since, whether they were from an earlier date or not, the message and powers spolia had might have evolved and changed due to the particular period’s economic, militaristic, social and political atmosphere. In other words, a sixth-century perception towards spoliated building material could be different from the ninth-century. Indeed, it is challenging to detect these differences but based on literary evidence like inscriptions, it is possible to assume and understand the perceptions towards spolia in different periods for the same case.
203 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 82.
204 Henri Gregoire, “Michel III et Basile le Macedonien dans les Inscriptions D’Ancyre,” Byzantion 5, no.1 (1929): 340-43.
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In addition to that, the use of spolia for the gates of fortifications is not a unique case for Ankara since other Byzantine fortifications like Ephesus, Sardis, Nicaea and many others. The reason behind this is presumably related to the factor of visibility, or it can also be about giving a marble look to the walls close to the entrance. For instance, the southern wall of the Byzantine fortification of Sardis is embellished only with spoliated marble. According to Nikos D. Kontogiannis, this use of spolia, for the case of Sardis, is intentional to make the façade to look like it is made of marble.205
One of the reasons for this decision to use marble spolia on the city walls is because of the material's value. For instance, in the sixth-century writings of Cassiodorus called the Variae epitolae, it is stressed that the reuse of ancient marble by the Ostrogoth king Theoderic was to bring back the glory of Antiquity into the present.206 It is possible to evaluate this practice from two perspectives. First, the decoration of fortifications can have a political dimension.207 For the example of Theoderic, it is also stated that the Ostrogothic king did not only utilize and bring any marble to his buildings in Ravenna, but he notably ordered them from Rome.208 In addition to that, Theoderic imported new-made materials from Constantinople. Coates-Stephens commented on these decisions of Theoderic as an effort to auto-legitimize his political presence in the region. It is difficult to argue whether Theoderic used spoliated marble from Rome and new-made materials from Constantinople to send a political
205Nikos D. Kontogiannis, Byzantine Fortifications: protecting the Roman empire in the east (Barnsley: Pen and Sword Military, 2022), 103.
206 Coates-Stephens, “Attitudes to Spolia,” 354; See Cassiodorus, The Letters of Cassiodorus Being a Condensed Translation of the Variae Epitolae of Magnus Aurelius Cassiodorus Senator, trans. Thomas Hodgkin (Oxford University Press, 1886).
207 For more see Frey, Spolia in Fortificaitons.
208 Brenk, “Spolia from Constantine to Charlemagne,” 107.
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message or just appreciated the aesthetic value of the material. However, as Coates-Stephens agreed, there is a striking similarity between Theoderic’s use of spolia and Khusraw’s way of spoliation at new Antioch.
On the other side of the coin, some fortresses were rebuilt or restored in the exact location. The Red Tower of Alanya and the fortifications of Anemurium were constructed or strengthened by the Seljuk Sultan Alaeddin Keykubat I in the thirteenth century using building materials from the ruins at a close distance.209 Michael Greenhalgh used the term “strength-through-beauty” for these two examples where generally column-shafts were used to fortify and strengthen the walls.210 Even for churches like the Little Metropolis, some big spoliated blocks might have been integrated into the lower parts of the building to strengthen the structure.211 Therefore, as Greenhalgh warned, one should be careful while attributing symbolic and practical connotations to city gates and walls. Getting inspiration from different cases of Khusraw’s Antioch, the Little Metropolis, Theoderic’s Ravenna and Keykubat’s edifices; presumably both convenient practicalities and ideological use of spolia can be visible for the same building. In light of these considerations, it is plausible to call the inscription of Micheal III under scrutiny and then move forward with other spoliated architectural elements to detect possible symbolic, aesthetic and pragmatic uses.
209 Teresa Tömöry, “Mediaeval Sgraffiato Ware from Anemurium in Cilicia,” Belletin 161, (1974): 33.
210 Greenhalgh, “Marble Past, Monumental Present,” 223.
211 Bente Kiilerich, “Making Sense of the Spolia in the Little Metropolis in Athens,” Arts Medievale 4, (2005): 99.
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3.2.1 Inscriptions of Michael III
There are three verse texts that were placed on the top of the wall near the south gate of the inner circuit, the main entrance (See Appendix, Figure 2 and 3). These inscriptions were placed in a spot where the main entrance is located, which looks quite intriguing. By just looking above the entrance, a visitor or city citizen can see Micheal III’s inscription. In a similar vein, the location can also imply that this side of the fortification was the most important and visited one at the time. A closer survey around the citadel proves that point since the southern, where the main gate is located, and the western side of the inner circuit had the “most significant pieces of spolia” compared to the other parts of the enceinte.212
Mitchell categorized and named them as: “building inscription of Michael III and the spatharocanditatus Basil” “verses celebrating the rescue of Ankara and its restoration by Micheal III,” and “verse inscription commemorating the refoundation of Ankara by Micheal III”. Mitchell also gave them numbers from 324 to 326, respectively.213 Peschlow examined the position of these three inscriptions based on the analysis by Hamilton and Perrot.214 According to the investigation, inscription numbers 324 and 325 are not visible today; meanwhile, 326 is still there, but thanks to Perrot's observations, it is known what was on the vanished two pieces.215 They were placed laminated together,
212 Serin, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara: Topography and Architecture,” 1273.
213 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 82–87.
214 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 82–83; Perrot, Guillaume, and Delbet, Exploration Archéologique de La Galatie et de La Bithynie, d’une Partie de La Mysie, de La Phrygie, de La Cappadoce et Du Pont / Exécutée En 1861 et Publiée... Par Georges Perrot,... Edmond Guillaume,... et Jules Delbet,...; “Researches in Asia Minor, Pontus, and Armenia.”
215 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 83; Perrot, Guillaume, and Delbet, <i>Exploration Archéologique de La Galatie et de La Bithynie, d’une Partie de La Mysie, de La Phrygie, de La Cappadoce et Du Pont / Exécutée En 1861 et Publiée... Par Georges Perrot,... Edmond Guillaume,... et Jules Delbet,...</i>
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with 324 being on top and 326 being on the bottom, into the curtain wall next to the main gate of the city.216
The verse, in Greek, carved on the inscription 324 says that “For the glory of our Christ-loving king, Michael, supported by labour of the spatharocandidatus Basilios. On 18 June, in the year 6367.”217 The inscription dates to 859 AD, incorporated into the wall right after the Arab invasion of the city in 838. Mitchell interpreted this line by emphasizing the word δόξα, which means glory. Here, the word glory is attributed to the achievement of the emperor himself, who retook Ankara from the hand of the Arabs.218 Also, Mitchell stated that it is significant to note the reference to the labor of the building of the new fortifications. In fact, “The verbs ὑπουργέω, συνυπουργέω and the cognate nouns ὑπούργησις, ὑπουργία appropriately denoted the work of officials or of the labor force itself, who were carrying out a project under the instruction of a higher authority.”219 Since Michael III is the one who initiated a massive restoration program in Asia Minor, including the fortifications of Ankara and Nicaea, this reference concerning the heavy labor work makes sense.220
The verse number 325 is translated like this: “Collapsed in sorrow and brought to your knees, stained with blood of old by the hands of the Persians, rise up now, rid of your troubles; throw off your shapeless mourning garb and receive the adornment of a
216 Peschlow, Ankara, 167-8.
217 The translation is: † εἰς δόξαν τοῦ φιλοχ. βασιλ. ἡμ. Μιχαὴλ ΗϹΚ ὑπουργήσαντ. Βασιλίο σπαθ. καν. μ. Ἰον. ιη´ ϟ ἔτ̣. ϟ ςτξζ´. For more about the interpretation and translation of this verse see: Georges Perrot, Edmond Guillaume, and Jules Delbet, Exploration Archéologique de La Galatie et de La Bithynie, d’une Partie de La Mysie, de La Phrygie, de La Cappadoce et Du Pont (Paris, 1872); Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 83.
218 Mitchell et al., Roman Ancyra, 82–83.
219 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 83.
220 Georgios Pallı̇s, “The Second Life of Inscriptions in Late Antique and Byzantine Asia Minor: Some Remarks on the Reuse of the Inscribed Material,” Gephyra 18, (2019): 61.
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bride’s radiance, reinforced by the stones on which God has trodden. For thus the power of God brings favour. Give your hand to him who calls eagerly, so that the ruler Michael, great King, victorious and bearing wreaths, may lift you up with his mighty hand in glory to the heights, when you have fallen into the abyss of dangers, building anew and making safe your settlement, fortunate Ancyra, all-gleaming city, you the glory of the whole country of the Galatians.”221 Here, it is evident that Ankara was shown as a woman saved from misery and revived from its ashes thanks to God,’s protection.
The last verse, number 326, translated as “Having looked upon the greatest glory of God, and holding your gaze and hands raised up, with raised hands give praise to the accomplisher of everything, who gives strength and great might to the architect of piety and founder of the city, the faithful lord Michael, the benefactor. You who enter the gate and the city cry out all the glorious divine words: “Hail, city of the Lord, the new Sion, engraved upon the tablets which God has written.” 222 Similar to the previous verse, the impact of God’s protection and will is underlined with the fortification. These verses praised Micheal, and the engraved tablets, interestingly, were also mentioned here, infused with the divine power of God.
221 [Π]έν[θει] φθαρεῖσα κ(αὶ) κλιθεῖσα πρὸς γόν[υ | χ]ερσὶν Περσικαῖς μιαιφόνο<ι>ς ἐκπάλαι | νῦν ἐξεγείρου τῶν κακῶν ἀνειμένη, | ἀπαμφιάζου πενθικὴν ἀμορφίαν, | δέχου στολισμὸν νυνφικ[ῆς ἀγλαΐας] | θεοστίβοις λίθαξιν ἐστηριγμένη· | θ(εο)ῦ [γ]ὰρ οὕτως εὐνοεῖτα[ι] τὸ κράτος· δίδου δὲ χέραν τῷ καλοῦντι προθυμῶς | ἵνα πρὸς ὕψος ἐμφανῶς ἀναστήσῃ | σε τὴν πεσοῦσαν ἐν βαρά[θρ]ῳ κινδύνων | [χειρὶ] κραταιᾷ Μιχαὴλ ὁ δεσπότης, | [μέγ]ας βασιλεὺς ν[ικητ]ὴς στεφηφόρος, | τὴν σὴν [ν]εουργῶν ἀσφαλῆ κατοικίαν, | Ἄγκυρα τερπνή, παμφαεστάτη πόλις, | πάσῃς Γαλατῶν πατρίδος [σὺ] λαπρότης. Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 89.
222 Δόξαν μεγίστην τοῦ Θεοῦ δεδορκότες ἔχοντες ὄμμα καὶ χέρας ἐπηρμένας ἄραντες εὐλογεῖτε τὸν παντεργάτην, τὸν ἰσχὺν ἐνδύοντα καὶ κράτος μέγα τῷ εὐσεβουργῷ κ̣(αὶ) πολιστῇ δεσπότῃ ἄνακτι πιστῷ Μιχαὴλ εὐεργέτῃ· οἱ εἰσίοντες τὴν πύλην καὶ τὴν πόλιν 8 λαλεῖτε πάντα θεῖα δεδοξασμένα· πόλις Κυρίου χαῖρε, Σιὼν ἡ νέα, θεογράφοις πίναξιν ἐγγεγραμένη. Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 89.
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In addition to these verses, two more inscriptions of Michael III, number 327 and 328, were placed in the south-west tower of the citadel. These inscriptions talk about Michael III and Basil respectively. This tower contained “two very similar blocks each displaying a Latin cross within an aedicula, with acclamatory texts which summoned divine protection for the emperor Michael (327) and his spatharocandidatus Basil (328). These were placed directly above the artillery loopholes in these towers.”223 Mitchell stated that the carving of crosses near the artillery holes might have represent an apotropaic use and the two inscriptions are, therefore, can be related to this use. He also added that these two inscriptions are related to the previously mentioned verses of 324, 325 and 326.224
3.2.3 Chi-rho carved into spolium
The emperor’s treatment of Ankara as a city that was revived gives insights into how the Arab attacks influenced the political mindset of the people in the Byzantine Empire. Based on these political struggles and inscriptions, one might assume that the extensive use of spolia on Ankara's city gates and walls has a symbolic connotation directed toward the Arabs. “The same lines also talk about how the city walls were trodden by God, meaning that miraculous stones and relics were carved into the walls.”225 One of these holy symbols was the icon of Christ. Using religious icons on gates can be regarded as “the catalyst of a resilient urban identity and conveyor of apotropaic message of protection which developed and completed in the presence of a supernatural
223 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 87. The translation of 327 goes like this: “Many be the years of Michael, great king” with the original text being “Μιχαὴλ μεγάλου βασηλέως πολλὰ τὰ ἔτη”. The translation for 328: “: Lord, help your slave, Basil, the spatharocandidatus!” and the original text is “† Κ(ύρι)ε βοήθη το͂σο͂δούλο Βασηλήο σπαθαροκανδιδάτο †”.
224 Ibid., 90.
225 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 31.
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protector.”226 So, the icon implementation practice on fortifications is a reaction to military challenges and sieges that the Byzantines encountered. It is plausible to assume that the spolia on the city gates of Ancyra might have an ideological meaning. However, as mentioned above, besides the inscriptions, it is not easy to know which spolium was implemented by Michael III, but indeed, he preserved them. Therefore, maybe the preservation was for practicality, but at least, it is possible to argue that even the already incorporated spolia might have gained new meanings with the Arab siege.
In this light, spolia on the walls of the inner rampart next to main gate of the inner circuit are intriguing in terms of detecting the possible apotropaic use of spolia (See Appendix, Figure 2). Nearly most of the parts of these walls were covered with marble spolia, and some of these spoliated blocks and statues might reveal the possible symbolic and practical connotations embedded into the fortifications. Starting with a spoliated inscription that is carved on a rectangular block. This inscription, due to its location and size, is quite visible to someone who enters the main gate. In fact, when the Italian architect Giulio Mongeri visited Ankara for the first time in 1897, he sketched the Akkale, a part of the castle added by the Seljuk Sultan Kaykaus II in 1249. Interestingly, independent from Akkale, he documented the inscription on the previously mentioned rectangular block located next to the sketch. This indeed might indicate how this inscription on a spoliated block is conspicuous for travelers and visitors of the castle, even for someone who is not an expert in Latin inscriptions like Mongeri since he made a mistake and wrote the inscription on the paper as “AXIUSLEGPROPR
226 Zavagno, The Byzantine City from Heraclius to the Fourth Crusade, 610–1204, 42.
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EFTIALIS” where the correct version is “AXIUSLEGPROPR FETIALIS.”227 Georges Perrot argued that this inscription is abbreviated, and the correct reading of it is AXIUS LEG(ATUS) PROPR(AETORE) FETIALIS.228 Based on this examination, Perrot also stated that the inscription is dedicated by someone called Axius, and he stated that this individual might be the proconsul of Cyprus, Lucius Axius Naso, in the first century AD. The title fetialis refers to a type of priest in ancient Rome with some administrative powers.229 The inscribed block is dated to the first half of the first century AD. According to Serin, based on the epigraphic characteristics of the block itself, the spoliated piece was also associated with the temple of Augustus.230
Bosch and Mithell stated that this particular spolium could be part of an architrave.231 On the other hand, French suggested that it was originally a dedicatory panel.232 Apart from that, this spolium was placed on the wall upside down, and a chi-rho was carved on the block upright. Indeed, it is challenging to know when this official Byzantine imperial insignia was implemented into the spolium. The only thing that can be said is the fact that since chi-rho is looking upright when the block is in a reversed position, it is possible to argue that the carving occurred during or after the construction of the wall. As discussed above, this modification might indicate that the purpose was to champion Christian dominance over paganism. The upside-down form of the spolium
227 Sedat Bornovalı, “An Italian Architect’s First Visit to Ankara: Giulio Mongeri – 1897,” Journal of Ankara Studies 4, no.2 (December 2016): 141.
228 Georges Perrot, De Galatia Provincia Romana (1867), 91.
229 Francis Edward J. Valpy, An Etymological Dictionary of the Latin Language (1828), 324.
230 Serin “Ankara and the Temple of Rome and Augustus in the Late Antique,” 356; Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 86–87; Robert C. Knapp, “L. Axius Naso and ‘pro Legato,” Phoenix 35. No.2 (Summer, 1981): 137; See also Bosch, Quellen zur Geschichte der Stadt Ankara im Altertum; Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara.
231 Bosch, Quellen zur Geschichte der Stadt Ankara im Altertum, 50; Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara.
232 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 87.
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compared to the head of Medusa in Cistern Basilica is similar. In addition to this, French argued that this piece may have been a part of a monumental altar associated with the temple of Augustus.233 In light of this intriguing hypothesis, if that is the case, then it is possible to assume that people who spoliated this object were aware of its original location. As an old part of a pagan temple or monumental altar, it makes sense why the Byzantines carved a cross on the spolia. Again, the first explanation for this could be about showing Christian victory or as mentioned, the aim was to purify the pagan stone and Christianize it.
Later on, this apotropaic use of spolia might have gained another spatial meaning with the Arab sieges if the chris-mon was placed before the ninth century. John Kaminiates, in his work about the siege of Thessaloniki in 904, talks about how the cross on the walls became a weapon to comfort the defenders.234 Based on this, the chi-rho on spolia might be perceived by the citizens and soldiers as a tool of comfort during and after the Arab siege. In a similar vein, as mentioned in Micheal’s inscription, the chi-rho might have gained the same symbolic meaning as the icon of Christ in 859.
In Nicaea, the main purpose of using spolia from Roman times was to remind the citizens about their glorious past. It is because the gates of Nicaea, particularly the outer walls, were built as a reaction to losing the capital. Thus, the sense of longing and memory merged together in the case of Nicaea, and this is visible through the spolia use for that specific case. For Ankara, it is not sure to say that spolia worked as a mnemonic
233 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 87; Serin, “Ankara and the Temple of Rome and Augustus in the Late Antique,” 356.
234 Bakirtzis, “The Visual Language of Fortification Facades,” 21; For more information, see John Kaminiates, John Kaminiates - The Capture of Thessaloniki, trans. David Frendo and Athanasios Fotiou (Brill, 2000).
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device for the citizens. However, Micheal III’s inscription might reveal the possible perspectives that the emperor himself intended to transmit to the citizens of Ankara. In the inscriptions, Ankara is defined as a woman who was brought down on her knees because of the Arab raids, but in the end, thanks to Micheal III, the city returned to its old glorious days. So, the changing political atmosphere starting from the seventh century with Arab raids evolved the narrative about Christian dominance over Paganism into the acceptance or even appreciation of the Pagan or Roman past. By exalting the past, the main goal for Micheal III might be to motivate the citizens against the threat from the east. The use of spolia from considerably important and well-known premises like an altar associated with the Temple of Augustus and Rome can support this argument since the city’s past wanted to be presented on the walls.
From a different viewpoint, it should be noted that the use of architectural pieces from surrounding edifices of the castle could also be because of solely practical reasons. This aspect is certainly valid and evident. Although utility played a huge role in the case of Ankara, it is also evident that while incorporating these spoliated pieces into the southern wall, the Byzantines did not cover the sides where inscriptions were carved. Therefore, presumably, the Byzantines did try to achieve both aesthetic and symbolic connotations with the limited materials that they had. The following example on the same part of the fortification of Ankara is going to support this argument even more regarding how careful the Byzantines were when it comes to aesthetic value and symbolic use of spolia.
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3.2.3 The city wall next to the southern gate and four herms
David French’s survey of the walls brought another statement regarding the spolia use.235 There are four little herms that were laid on their side, whose heads were either removed during the construction process or got broken in time.236 (See Appendix, Figure 6). French and Guillaume de Jerphanion defined these subjects as the representation of Priapus, a fertility god of animals and vegetables.237 This argument is challenged by Livia Bevilacqua and Urs Peschlow, who stated that these figures might have been misinterpreted.238 According to her, each herm represents a man holding a lion’s head with their left hand and a lion’s skin with the right.239 In addition to that, Bevilacqua and Peschlow argued that these herms were a representation of Heracles (Hercules) with the Nemean Lion, a monster killed by Heracles himself. Interestingly, her work compares two herm-like statues of Heracles on the fifth century building in Ephesus called the Gate of Heracles, “a selection of the Twelve Labours of Heracles” on the Golden Gate and lastly, the images of Heracles on the triumphal archway of the Theodosian Forum.240
Bevilacqua argued that because the arch of the Forum Tauri is triumphal, it conveyed the same ideological or symbolic messages as in the gates of cities like Ankara, Ephesus and Constantinople. The herms of Heracles in Ankara, therefore, could be embedded in the walls by Heraclius, the Byzantine Emperor from 610 to 641, even though the general consensus affiliated the southern wall of Ankara with Constans II,
235 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 87.
236 Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 205.
237 Mitchell and French, The Greek and Latin Inscriptions of Ankara, 89.
238 Urs Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen Hinterlassenschaften aus römischer und byzantinischer Zeit (Textband +Tafelband) (Phoibos Verlag, 2015), 167; Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 205.
239 Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 205.
240 Ibid., 205-6. Peschlow Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 167.
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who ruled the empire between 641 and 668.241 However, Archibald Dunn suggested Ankara’s inner castle is similar to the sixth-century fortifications in the Balkans, like the one in Salona.242 Bevilacqua connected this hypothesis to the reign of Heraclius since, until Heraclius’s reign, the Balkans were still a part of the empire and “mythological elements have been connected in many ways to the artistic production of the time of Heraclius”. Considering all these statements, it is possible to state that these figural spolia were incorporated into the walls by Heraclius to remind the glorious antiquity. Again, by solely examining spolia, it is hard to be precise about dating a particular wall or fortification. Like the previously mentioned example regarding the inscription of Axius, that spolium also might have been integrated in the seventh century. Indeed, detecting the original intention of the spolia use reveals a lot about the symbolic value of a particular piece, but it is significant to note that these symbolic connotations might have evolved into something new with changing political, religious and ideological atmospheres.
From a broader perspective, Liz James argued that such use of statues for defensive edifices was, on the surface, a result of necessity.243 Verily, when there is limited time to refortify the defense systems, it makes sense for the patrons and builders to utilize all the materials they found available around the fortifications. However, it is visible that while rebuilding the southern wall of Ankara, spolia were arranged
241 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 32.
242 Bevilacqua, “Family Ineritance,” 206-7. See also Archibald Dunn, “Heraclius ‘Reconstruction of Cities’ and Their Sixth-Century Balkan Antecedents,” Acta XIII Congressus Internationalis Archaeologiae Christianae, II. Studi di Antichità Cristiana pubblicati a cura del Pontificio Istituto di Archeologia Cristiana 54, (1998): 795–806.
243 Liz James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard: Pagan Statues in Christian Constantinople,” Gesta 35, no.1 (1996): 16.
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symmetrically, making someone wonder whether the use of spolia was purely practical or not. Clive Foss stated that during the fifth century, crosses were put on the walls of the temple of Augustus and Rome in Ankara. He also elucidated that the Byzantines perceived these pagan stones as materials that retained magical powers, and the primary goal of inserting crosses on these stones was to ward off evil.244
Interestingly, Foss’s interpretation of the temples and churches is correct, but when it comes to defensive systems, James asked, “If these stones are so danger-laden, why are they used in city defenses? Surely the very stones of the walls will turn against the defenders and welcome the infidel attack? This does not seem sensible to use dangerous and malevolent objects.”245 As mentioned above, this question can be answered in multiple ways. First, it could be to show the Christian dominance over Paganism and putting these four statues on their side could be a way of mocking the belief attributed to them during the pagan times. Nevertheless, this explanation still does not explain why the Byzantines integrated them on the outside part of the inner circuit facing the visitors or potentially the enemy.
The more viable explanation is about the integration of these pagan icons into Christianity. It is stated that the Byzantines not only saw these pagan statues as evil entities but also believed they could harness these objects' magical power.246 Constantine the Great did the same thing when he embellished Constantinople with pagan and
244 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 65.
245 James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard,” 16.
246 Ibid., 16; Timothy E. Gregory, “The Survival of Paganism in Christian Greece: A Critical Essay,” The American Journal of Philology 107, no.2 (Summer 1986): 229-42.
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classical statues.247 Carving and inscribing crosses, therefore, for the seventh-century fortifications, might have functioned in a way for the Byzantine community to transfer the powers of the objects into Christian use. James conducted a survey among more than 150 statues mentioned and described in the Parastaseis syntomoi chronikai, an eighth-century Byzantine text that talks about the topography and monuments of Constantinople. James mentioned that only six or seven statues were considered “actively harmful.”248
On the other side of the coin, some statues from pagan times were seen as magical objects that were actually useful in favor of the Byzantines. For instance, in the ninth century, the patriarch John the Grammarian stopped a barbarian attack with a three-headed statue located in the Hippodrome. According to the ritual conducted by the patriarch, three men struck the heads of the statue. Two of the heads fell, with the last being damaged. As a result of this spell, two of the three barbarian chiefs died, and the third one got heavily injured.249 The research on Byzantine magic and rituals showed that the demon was not seen as an entity that only held evil power but could be controlled and channeled to gain more wisdom.250
These examples and ideas can open the way for an interpretation of the four statues on the walls of Ankara castle, where these statues were deliberately put on the entrance according to the Byzantine perception of demonic powers. Based on this
247 See James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard”; Cyril Mango, “Antique Statuary and the Byzantine Beholder,” Dumbarton Oaks Papers 17 (1963): 53-75.
248 James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard,” 17.
249 James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard,” 17; See also Immanuel Bekker, Theophanes continuatus ; Ioannes Cameniata ; Symeon Magister ; Georgius Monachus (Wien,1838).
250 James, “Pray Not to Fall into Temptation and Be on Your Guard,” 17.
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aesthetic consideration, it is possible to argue that even with limited building materials around the city in the ninth century, Byzantines did not only insert spolia into the walls for practical reasons. Although it is impossible to overlook how practical it was to utilize these materials to renew the fortifications, it seems that symbolic, aesthetic and utilitarian connotations can be observed in this example.
Another important factor regarding this side of the wall is the building technique and where those spolia were placed. It is possible to observe that large spoliated marble blocks were all used in the lower segments of the wall, while the upper parts were embellished with bricks. This construction style is also visible for nearly all the façades of the inner circuit. Things are a bit different for the city wall near the southern gate compared to the other façades of the fortification, where the spoliated marble blocks reach a higher altitude. This phenomenon can be explained with both the pragmatic and symbolic perspectives. For the latter one, as has already been discussed, the extensive use of spolia could be due to the location of this wall, which is just next to one of the main entrances.251 Pragmatically, though, since the gates are the weaker points of the fortifications, utilizing large heavy blocks from antiquity makes sense to strengthen the edifice.
3.2.4 Well Parapet
This is not the only explanation regarding the specifics of these four herms and their arrangement for this side of the fortification. One can notice carefully arranged spoliated blocks placed in a straight line on the upper part of these four statues (See Appendix,
251 Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 204.
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Figure 5). This careful craftsmanship and use of spolia shows how the builders and maybe the patrons of the rebuilding process wanted to achieve a symmetrical harmony. In addition, the central altar standing right above the middle of the four statues has floral decoration, particularly a garland, in the center, a motif that none of the other altars have. The location of this particular altar shows how the builders carefully placed each and every spolium on the walls of Ankara.
Peschlow stated that these blocks were retained from a pool parapet since there are drainage holes in some of these pieces.252 Moreover, he argued that the arrangement of these nine blocks on the left and right sides of the altar were not arranged in their original way during the reuse process. In fact, it is possible to observe Greek letters scratched on the surface of five blocks in grazing light. At first sight, the placement of these letters looks unsystematic, but according to Peschlow, they mark the original sequence of these blocks.253 This confirms the fact that these blocks were dismantled and the blocks were reassembled during the construction process. Interestingly, the builders or the patrons did not pay much attention to the original sequence of these blocks during the spoliation process. However, indeed, they utilized them in the same section, side by side and aimed to create an aesthetic view by integrating both the altar and the four herms.
The location of these herms and blocks is also intriguing, as it will be seen in the following chapter in the example of Rum Seljuk Konya, where there is a panel of Roman-era sarcophagi on the right of the entrance to the tomb tower that faces the
252 Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 167.
253 Ibid., 167.
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Alaeddin Mosque. With a careful look at the location of the sarcophagus, it is possible to notice that the location of the funerary stone indicates the sultan’s tomb inside the tower.254 In a similar vein, the aforementioned curtain wall with spolia analyzed, so far, may give a tantalizing hint regarding the location of the church just adjacent to the walls. Specifically located on the northeastern side of the curtain wall, the spoliated items used in the church and standing free in the garden area raise inquiries regarding the existence of a church in the same location. In addition to that, Evliya Çelebi, an Ottoman explorer of the 17th century, stated that “in the location of this mosque, there used to be a church.”255 This argument makes sense since there is a tendency for Byzantine churches to be close, in proximity, to the fortifications like the Church of St. Tryphon in Nicaea, The Chora Church in Constantinople and The Church of Hagia Aikaterini in Thessaloniki. Indeed, such an argument needs extensive research; however, it is intriguing to see the correlation between churches and fortifications.
3.2.5 Figural Reliefs
Sitting above the blocks retrieved from a well parapet, one can notice three cubic-shaped blocks divided by rectangular marble blocks (See Appendix, Figure 4). Today, these three blocks are seriously damaged, and it is hard to notice any carving feature on them. However, an older archive photo taken by Sebah and Joaillier shows a glimpse of the block on the right side.256 In light of this photo, one can observe that the rectangular block was broken on the upper left side and that the stone piece was actually a figural
254 For more see: Scott Redford, “The Alaeddin Mosque in Konya Reconsidered,” Artibus Asiae 51, no. 1/2 (1991): 54-74.
255 Nusret Çam and Ayşe Ersay Yüksel, “Ankara Muhyiddin Mesud (Alaeddin) Camii’nin İlk Şekli Ve Türk Mimarisindeki Yeri,” Vakıflar Dergisi 38 (2012): 15.
256 These photos were probably taken before 1933 and they were published in Mamboury’s Guide Touristique d’Ankara. Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 168. Photo code “Abb. 385”.
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relief. In the scene depicted on the block, four figures were carved, and in the middle, it is possible to observe a winged female figure. There are male figures on each side of the winged figure, and the ones on the right seem like they are having a fight. Even a sword is visible in the hands of one male figure on the right. According to Peschlow, the figure on the left presumably had an opponent as well, but that part of the relief was no longer extant even in the photograph. Interestingly, it can be seen that the female figure was putting her hands on the heads of the victorious fighters. Peschlow and Bevilacqua interpreted this gesture as a scene of triumph and that the winged figure could be the goddess of victory, Nike or Victoria.257
Indeed, the winged figure could represent anything, but the reason why for categorizing this image as a representation of Nike is not a coincidence since the use of the goddess of victory on fortifications can be visible in other Byzantine and Roman buildings, walls and gates. At Rome, Victory used to commemorate Augustus for his triumph in the Battle of Actium. In Ephesus, the marble relief of Nike decorated the monumental arch called the Gate of Heracles.258 The Golden Gate of Constantinople, which is a monumental triumphal gate at the southern side of the Theodosian walls, was also decorated with bronze statues of Nike. It seems like both elites and emperors utilized this image on buildings to symbolize their triumph over their enemies, and this raises questions regarding the image of the fortifications of Ankara.259 Given the fact that it is not known when and by whom this relief was reused on the southern curtain wall of Ankara, the relief could be perceived at the time of Michael III as a sign of victory
257 Bevilacqua, “Family Inheritance,” 204; Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 168.
258 Ketty Iannantuono, “A Christian Emperor between Pagan Gods,” Journal of Applied History (Brill, 2021): 33-6.
259 Iannantuono, “A Christian Emperor between Pagan Gods,” 9.
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against the Arabs. Although there are no literary sources that prove such an argument, it is clear that the use of Nike to commemorate victory in other premises can provoke this idea.
3.2.6 Pieces from Roman Sarcophagus
Roman funerary pieces were often used as spolia within their new Christian context as early as the third century.260 This use is often attributed and investigated from the perspective of pragmatism, where economic motivations play a crucial role when it comes to reused pieces of sarcophagi.261 On the other hand, Salvatore Settis, in his work called Continuity, distanza, conoscenza: tre usi dell'antico, wondered how Roman sarcophagi were interpreted by the Christians who spoliated the tombs and integrated them into their own burials or premises. According to him, the meaning of the images has changed over time, and the images became the representatives of antiquity.262 Therefore, the use of funerary elements in fortifications, churches, and public and private buildings might have a symbolic or ideological meaning. In fact, when it comes to connecting the newly built building with the past, spoliating funerary elements as a decoration can be concrete proof of this argument.
Moving forward, the tower between the southern curtain wall and the main gate of Ankara in the inner citadel might reveal how mythological symbols were utilized as the representative tools of the past and aesthetic furnishments. There are, in total, three
260 Cristina Murer, “From the Tombs into the City: Grave Robbing and the Reuse of Funerary Spolia in Late Antique Italy,” Acta ad archaeologiam et artium historiam pertinentia 30, no.16 (2019): 124.
261 Greenhalgh, “Spolia: A Definition in Ruins.”; Murer, “From the Tombs into the City,” 124.
262 Salvatore Settis, “Continuità, Distanza, Conoscenza Tre usi dell'antico,” in Memoria dell'antico nell'arte italiana. 3. Dalla tradizione all'archeologia, ed. Salvatore Settis (Torino 1986), 409; Kinney, “Ancient Gems in the Middle Ages,” 113.
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pieces integrated on the upper side of the tower where the inscription of Axius is located (See Appendix, Figure 7). According to Peschlow, these three pieces are from the same garland sarcophagus, given the fact that one can notice the parts of garlands as a decoration that once connected all these figures back in the day (Abb. 221).263 For the first one (Abb. 218), located on the E side of the tower, there are two figures (See Appendix, Figure 10). The one on the left seems like a boy standing and holding a bow with wings and fruit garlands over his shoulder. This boy could be a representation of Eros, the winged god of love, which is usually represented with flowers, an arrow and a bow.264 On the right side, there is a mask, of a female with an open mouth. Peschlow, by not being sure, stated that this female mask has a mouth diadem.265
The second image (Abb. 219), located on the SE side of the tower, has a fruit garland on the bottom right side and a similar mask to the previously mentioned piece on top (See Appendix, Figure 9). The last one (Abb. 220), is located on the SW side of the tower, and there is a bull’s head with the same garland decoration on the left side (See Appendix, Figure 8).266 Peschlow stated that the combination of garlands without grapes and the appearance of a bull’s head might indicate that this sarcophagus has a Dokimeion origin from Asia Minor. So, these pieces were indeed brought from a close distance to the fortifications during the construction process.267 This proves the point where, spoliated funerary materials for Ankara had economic reasons but at the same time one should not deny the careful selection of decorative figures. The mythological,
263 Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 124.
264 Avi Kapach, “Primordial God: Eros,” Mythopedia, last modified March 10, 2023, https://mythopedia.com/topics/eros; Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen, 125.
265 Ibid., 125.
266 Ibid., 125.
267 Ibid., 126.
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animal and female figures were selected and integrated on the upper side of the wall next to the window part of the fortification. In terms of their location, furnishing the upper part of the tower right next to the main entrance shows how the patrons wanted these figures to be seen both aesthetically and possibly ideologically. Since the use of funerary elements in premises might indicate an effort to create a connection with the past or to show Christian dominance over paganism, this could be the case for these three pieces as well.268
3.3 Remarks and Limitations
Spolia embedded in the fortifications of Ankara further reveals the possible interaction that the citizens, patrons and emperors had. This reciprocity developed accordingly with the state ideology, which changed due to the political circumstances the Byzantines faced from the third century until the ninth. These developments, like the Persian and Arab raids, could have changed the perspective of the patrons and the empire, and this also could have affected how the citizens of Ankara perceived spolia on the walls, especially the areas like the main gate where the social interaction occurs the most.
This development in perspective is visible via the chi-rho embedded on the block that was turned upside down, where the early interpretation is based on the examples from spolia used in various other places from Gotland to Thessaloniki. The initial use of this spolium, therefore, could be to champion Christian dominance. However, later, thanks to the inscriptions of Michael III, the occurring armed conflicts might have changed the meaning of the cross into a tool that holds apotropaic function. Again, the
268 For more see: Saradi, “The Use of Ancient Spolia.”
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implementation of herms might have faced the same evolution given the fact that their heads were probably removed during the initial construction phase, and they were placed on their sides. This change also can be applied to the masks and mythological figures of a Roman sarcophagus. Similar to the case of Nicaea, things get complex and multifaceted with Michael III when we consider spolia on the fortifications of Ankara as pieces of antiquity and, therefore, a tool of self-legitimization. This means that, in the ninth century, the spatial experience of spolia on the walls could reflect the ownership of Roman heritage, a reminder to the citizens that they are the inhabitants of the city, not the Arabs.
Even though the symbolic function of spolia might have evolved from a sign of religious triumph to an indicator of legacy and heritage for the Ankara castle, it does not necessarily mean that spolia only functioned symbolically in this case. As a matter of fact, it is crucial to be cautious since most of these spoliated objects were brought from premises that were once located in or near Ankara. Therefore, practicality was a priority during each building phase of the fortifications. A closer scrutiny, on the other hand, reveals how some spolium was carefully placed into the walls. This shows and proves how the builders or patrons were concerned about aesthetic value and not only about practicality.
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CHAPTER 4: The Two Rum Seljuk Mosques of Ankara in the thirteenth century (the Aslanhane and the Alaeddin)
This final chapter is going to include another layer into the diachronic use of spolia by investigating two Rum Seljuk mosques called Alaeddin and Aslanhane. This is going to help to see how the perception of spolia evolved after the Byzantines lost control of the city and to what extent their legacy found itself a place in the Rum Seljuk ideology, state mentality and premises. To investigate whether the Rum Seljuks utilized spolia and adapted the Byzantine heritage into their own political agenda, this part of the thesis initiates the analysis starting from the history of the Rum Seljuk conquest of the Byzantine cities in the thirteenth century. Then, an analysis of these two cases of mosques with a comparison in terms of differences and similarities with the Venetian use of spolia will hope to shed light on the political mindset of Rum Seljuks as both entities threatened the Byzantine existence in the post-1204 political environment. As will also be seen, spolia on Rum Seljuk’s Aslanhane and Alaeddin Mosques in Ankara were embedded to claim the Byzantine heritage and continuity in the thirteenth century.
4.1 The Rum Seljuk Ankara
In the aftermath of the battle of Manzikert in 1074 AD, as Foss described it, “the Turks overran Anatolia with astonishing rapidity.”269 For Ankara, things were rather unknown regarding how and exactly when Rum Seljuks captured the city. Foss stated that the last mention of the city, while it was in the hands of the Byzantines, was in the account of Alexius Comnenus and his brother in 1073 AD.270 When the crusader army arrived in
269 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 82.
270 Ibid., 83.
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Ankara on the 23rd of June, 1101 AD, they found the city controlled by the Turks. Then, they restored the city and moved towards Paphlagonia. Apparently, this is the only information we get about the city at that period, and a few years after this particular event, Seljuks took the city once again.271
Moving forward to a timeline between the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, this specific period was when Rum Seljuks initiated a massive construction program in Anatolia.272 They extensively reused Classical, Roman, and Byzantine architectural elements in newly built mosques and fortifications. The urban landscape of Anatolia has changed, thanks to this building program, after the Rum Seljuk capital was established in the early twelfth century at the site of the old Byzantine city of Iconium or, as it is called today, Konya.273 This change, however, was different than the Byzantine city transition from polis to kastra and the urban development experienced by Venice in the late twelfth and beginning of thirteenth century. The reason behind this distinction for the urban centers of Rum Seljuks is because the Anatolian cities like Ankara, Sinop, Antalya, Konya and Amorium were already fortified by the Byzantines when Rum Seljuks took control of these places. In other words, when Rum Seljuks came on to the scene, they basically inherited already fortified cities embellished with spolia.274
271 Foss, “Late Antique and Byzantine Ankara,” 83.
272 Scott Redford, “The Sarcophagus as Spolium: Examples from Thirteenth Century Konya,”in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018), 195.
273 Semavi Eyı̇ce, “Konya’nın Alaeddin Tepesinde Selçuklu Öncesine Ait Bir Eser: Eflatun Mescidi,” Sanat Tarihi Yıllığı, no. 4 (February 10, 1971): 272.
274 Suzan Yalman, “Repairing the Antique: Legibility and Reading Seljuk Spolia in Konya,” in Spolia Reincarnated: Afterlives of Objects, Materials, and Spaces in Anatolia from Antiquity to the Ottoman Era, ed. I. Jevtić and S. Yalman (Istanbul: Anamed, 2018), 197.
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As mentioned, and extensively examined in the previous chapters, the incorporation of spolia in the walls of cities and churches during the Byzantine period was a multi-layered exercise that had complex practical and symbolic attributes. It is observed that spolia could function as a mnemonic device that connected cities and their people with the past. Also, spolia could have an apotropaic function, which gives another angle to detect the interaction between the object and the people. From time to time, the message conveyed through spolia was to embrace the glorious past, and from time to time, it was about showing triumph in both religious and political sense.275 Although the latter two symbolic functions are extremely different when it comes to the message given via an object, it is observed that these two concepts could be experienced by the citizens of any city like Nicaea or Ankara in different periods. This means that, although the spoliated object remained the same and its location stayed intact, the change in political, economic and religious conditions could have affected the perspective towards these objects.
4.2 The Rum Seljuk Mentality Towards Spolia and Spoliation
In this light, it should not come as a surprise if I argue that for Rum Seljuks, the possible symbolic connotations worked differently compared to the Venetian use of spolia. For the buildings that Rum Seljuks erected, though, the use of spolia was not much different from the Byzantine traditions.276 According to Richard Piran McClary, there were two main uses of spolia use “in the frontier architecture of the Rum Seljuks” that are
275 Frey, Spolia in Fortifications, 88.
276 Yalman, “Repairing the Antique,” 209.
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symbolic and practical.277 Similar to the Byzantine use of spolia, marble capitals and columns were embellished in the interior and exterior of the mosques, like for the Ulu Camii of Akşehir, near Konya. Richard Piran McClary stated that in the case of Ulu Camii of Akşehir, the crosses on capitals were chipped away by the Seljuks and integrated into the interior part of the mosque.278 He also stated that for this case specifically, it is hard to talk about the symbolic function of spolia since most of the reused architectural elements were integrated into the mosque because they were cost-beneficial. As Richard pointed out, the exterior part of the buildings could be seen by people of all beliefs, but the interior was only for the members of the umma.279 Therefore, the builders might have spoliated the object from a closer distance during the construction process and chipped away the cross.
However, even the deliberate attempt to remove crosses from the capitals might reveal a symbolic use of spolia for the Rum Seljuks. Removing crosses from the reused materials could have a symbolic use related to the religious ideology and identity of the Rum Seljuk state. In order words, if the community of the mosque and the people, including the patrons, were used to be aware of the presence of a cross that has been chipped away, then it would be possible to state that the spolium in Ulu Camii conveyed a message of religious triumph to the audience. Interestingly, there is an exception for this practice of chipping away crosses for the thirteenth-century Kileci Mescidi in Akşehir, where similar capitals feature a cross “facing outwards.”280 Yet, there are no
277 Richard P. McClary, “The Re-Use of Byzantine Spolia in Rūm Saljūq Architecture,” bfo-Journal 1 (2015): 14.
278 Ibid., 15.
279 Ibid., 15.
280 Ibid., 16.
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sources written about why the builders decided to keep the crosses on the capitals for this specific building.281 In the end, the reuse of capitals in mosques and the modification of crosses could both incorporate the pragmatic and symbolic aspects.
The presence of multiple perspectives in one case is not only limited to capitals for the Rum Seljuks. In fact, in the courtyard of the Alaeddin Mosque in the capital city of Rum Seljuks, Konya, there is a tomb tower that was assumed to be the planned tomb of the Seljuk Sultan Kaykaus I, who reigned between 1210 and 1219.282 The building was constructed between the mid-twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and the mosque was part of a citadel complex that contained the Rum Seljuk palace.283 On the base of this tower, it is possible to notice a reused marble block that looks like a piece used to strengthen the base of the building.284 This, on the surface, practical use is not only visible for the Rum Seljuks but also in the previously mentioned church called Little Metropolis of Athens, where the massive ancient blocks reused to reinforce the weaker points of the religious edifice.285
However, apart from this practical explanation, on the side of the tomb tower that faces the Alaeddin Mosque, there is an arch-shaped entrance opening to the crypt. Intriguingly, this part is the only one where Rum Seljuks carefully placed spolia. The spoliated piece is a panel of a Roman sarcophagi. It is arguable that Rum Seljuks utilized this specific spolium to send a message, but it appears that the piece was positioned to designate the sultan’s grave within the tower. In reference to this particular spolium,
281 McClary, “The Re-Use of Byzantine Spolia in Rūm Saljūq Architecture,” 16.
282 Redford, “The Sarcophagus as Spolium: Examples from Thirteenth Century Konya,” 195-9.
283 Ibid., 195-9.
284 Yalman, ““Repairing the Antique,” 199.
285 Kiilerich, “Making Sense of the Spolia in the Little Metropolis in Athens,” 96.
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Redford claims that; “Seeing a reused piece of funerary art of one culture at the base of the monument of another culture might lead one to posit the positioning as an indicator of triumph or replacement. Here, quite the opposite, I cannot help but see a connection with the pre-Islamic past of Anatolia.”286 4.2.1 Preserving and Repairing the Past The decorative program initiated by the Rum Seljuk Sultan Kayqubad I, who reigned from 1220 to 1237, gave another insight into how Rum Seljuks approached spolia. This decorative program covered many edifices in the Rum Seljuk territory, including the walls and gates of the capital city, Konya.287 Although the walls were demolished in the early twentieth century, it is possible to see the walls thanks to the visual evidence from Leon de Laborde’s nineteenth-century work called Voyage de l’Asie Mieure.288 In addition to that, the travel accounts from the nineteenth century, like Kinneir and Leake, stated that spolia on the walls of Konya were intriguing when it comes to the Rum Seljuk stance and perspective towards the Roman and Byzantine past.289 These travelers particularly stressed two spolia: an alto rilievo, a sculptural relief, and a headless statue.290 Both of these spolia were embedded into the northern gate of Konya. The
286 Redford, “The Sarcophagus as Spolium: Examples from Thirteenth Century Konya,” 200.
287 Ibid., 200.
288 See Leon de Laborde, Voyage de l’Asie Mineure (Didot, 1838). See also Suzan Yalman, “A Recent Discovery of Fragments from the Walls of Seljuk Konya and Their Afterlives,” in Spoliation as Translation: Medieval Worlds in the Eastern Mediterranean, ed. Ivana Jevtić and Ingela Nilsson, (Turnhout: Brepols. 2021): 158.
289 For the accounts of these travelers also see: Sir John Macdonald Kinneir, Journey Through Asia Minor, Armenia, and Koordistan in the Years 1813 and 1814: With Remarks on the Marches of Alexander and Retreat of the Ten Thousand (J. Murray, 1818); William Martin Leake, Journal of a Tour in Asia Minor: With Comparative Remarks on the Ancient and Modern Geography of That Country (J. Murray, 1824).
290 Yalman, “Repairing the Antique,” 221; Kinneir, Journey Through Asia Minor, Armenia, and Koordistan in the Years 1813 and 1814; Leake, Journal of a Tour in Asia Minor.
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statue allegedly could be the representation of Plato, Hercules or a Roman emperor.291 As Kinner pointed out and Redford found this argument valid for the Rum Seljuk way of treating spolia, the Rum Seljuks absurdly and poorly fixed the broken arms and legs of both the statue and remaining figures.292 This treatment may show how the aim was to preserve and even renovate the spolia.293 Therefore, it is possible to state that Rum Seljuks did not conduct themselves towards spolia as pieces that symbolized triumph but tried to conserve what spolia represented, which was the Roman or Ancient Greek heritage of the city.
4.2.2 Spolia as a tool for slow integration
As a part of Kaykubad I’s decorative program, Scott Redford suggested that Rum Seljuks also not only preserved the history of the city through repairing spolia but actually wanted to integrate Konya’s mythical and ancient past into the Islamic context.294 To give an example, one inscription that Kaykubad I placed on the city walls was about a Byzantine general’s son called Ioannes Maurozomes Komnenos. According to the story mentioned in Selçukname, a Seljuk chronicle written by numerous authors, Komnenos’s daughter married Kaykubad’s father, who was a high-ranking military officer for the Rum Seljuks.295 It is reasonable to interpret the addition of this kind of inscription to represent an attempt on the part of Rum Seljuks to establish themselves as the Byzantines’ regional successors. It is evident that Rum Seljuks did not only
291 Redford, “The Sarcophagus as Spolium: Examples from Thirteenth Century Konya,” 201.
292 Yalman, “Repairing the Antique,” 225; Scott Redford, “Sinop in the Summer of 1215: The Beginning of Anatolian Seljuk Architecture,” Ancient Civilizations from Scythia to Siberia 16 (2010): 4.
293 Yalman, ““Repairing the Antique,” 223.
294 Redford, “The Sarcophagus as Spolium: Examples from Thirteenth Century Konya,” 207.
295 Nāṣir al-Dīn Ḥusayn ibn Muḥammad Ibn Bībī, El Evamirü’l-ala’iye fi’l-umuri’l-ala’iye: Selçuk name, Volume 1 (T.C. Kültür Bakanlığı, 1996), 15.
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incorporate these ancient sculptures on newly built and restored buildings to show triumph over the fallen enemy or to appreciate the quality of the marble objects aesthetically. Nevertheless, the travel accounts and inscriptions reveal a more complicated and multifaceted use of spolia for the Rum Seljuks. It may be viable to assume that there were clear efforts on Rum Seljuk to self-legitimize their presence in the region as the inheritors of the Byzantines.
In another instance, in Isparta, a city in Turkey located in the Roman province of Pisidia, there is a thirteenth-century madrasa called the Ertokuş Madrasa.296 There is a tomb that is attached to the madrasa, and it is possible to see reused pieces. According to Richard P. McClary, these spolia “performed in their original church context, namely to separate the divine from the profane.”297 Basically, four templon panels with zoomorphic decorations were utilized to separate the mosque from the madrasa.298 The author argued that this use of spolia is similar to the Christian use of icons in a church, and the use is deliberate since this architectural synthesis could be a reflection of “the slow process of cultural integration.”299 McClary also investigated the aforementioned tomb tower of Kaykaus I and connected the use of the Roman sarcophagus as an indicator of this smooth transition as well.300 This process of utilizing so-called familiar icons, to Christians, and decorations in the exterior and interior parts of mosques and tombs could indicate a clear effort to integrate the Roman and Byzantine past of the city into a Rum Seljuk context, both on religious and political levels.
296 McClary, “The Re-Use of Byzantine Spolia in Rūm Saljūq Architecture,” 19
297 Ibid., 19.
298 Ibid., 19.
299 Ibid., 19.
300 Ibid., 20.
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So far, it is possible to mention two hypotheses or ideas regarding the mentality behind how Rum Seljuks approached existing spolia and their own way of spoliation. First, it could be about an effort to inherit the Byzantine legacy. Second, the explanation could be about providing a familiar space for the citizens of the conquered lands by utilizing material culture and architectural designs familiar to the people of the cities. These political and religious goals can be observed when the Seljuk rulers started to call themselves the Sultan of Rum, which means the leader of the Romans. Keeping these concepts in mind, it will be intriguing to test whether the spolia on the walls of Aslanhane and Alaeddin Mosques were infused with the same connotations or not.
4.3 Spolia in the Aslanhane Mosque and Ahi Şerafettin Mausoleum
Located in a neighborhood just outside of the walls of Ankara, the Ahi Şerafettin Mosque, also known as Aslanhane or Arslanhane mosque, was believed to be built in the thirteenth century.301 The exact date of construction remains unknown, Ahmet Akşit and Ali Osman Uysal suggested that, according to the epitaph on the pulpit, the mosque was constructed in the first half of the thirteenth century and reconstructed in 1290.302 This mosque is not a stand-alone edifice because there is a mausoleum and a zawiya, an institution that serves as a school and a monastery, close by. The mausoleum is not directly connected to the mosque, but it is located just across a small street, which was probably constructed later on. In fact, Ernest Mamboury, in his description of the place
301 For more about the mosque, see Patricia Blessing, Rebuilding Anatolia After the Mongol Conquest: Islamic Architecture in the Lands of Rum, 1240-1330 (Taylor & Francis Group, 2020).
302 Ali Osman Uysal, “Ankara Arslanhane Camii Üzerine Bazı Tespitler,” VII. Milli Selçuklu Kültür ve Medeniyetleri Semineri: II. Ortaçağ ve Türk Dönemi Kazı-Araştırmaları Sempozyumu Bildirileri) (1998): 207; Ahmet Akşı̇t, “Arslanhane Camii’nin İnşa Tarihine Dair Notlar,” Selçuk Üniversitesi Selçuklu Araştırmaları Dergisi, no. 9 (December 21, 2018): 174; Semavi Eyice, “Ahi Şerafeddin Camii,” TDV İslâm Ansiklopedisi 1, 532, accessed November 20, 2023, https://islamansiklopedisi.org.tr/ahi-serafeddin-camii.
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in the 1930s, talked about the presence of a cemetery connecting these two structures.303 Therefore, as Patricia Blessing categorized, the name Aslanhane is not only about the mosque, but it actually represents a complex meaning that it had various institutions and buildings having different functions. The walls of the mausoleum of Akhi Sharaf al-Din (Ahi Şerafettin) and the zawiya building were embellished with spolia. The reason why the name of the mosque is called Aslanhane, the house of a lion, is because of the lion statues free-standing across the garden of the complex and specifically the lion statue that was integrated into the wall of the zawiya facing the mosque.304
4.3.1 Spolia Use in the Mosque’s Interior Part
The thirteenth-century mosque is a “large rectangular, hypostyle structure.”305 In the interior part, there are wooden columns, and each structure supports a Roman and Byzantine stone capital. At first sight, the reuse of capitals might look like a practical decision rather than a symbolic one since they looked once again like they were used as supporting elements between the wooden columns and the wooden ceiling. Semavi Eyice, in his contribution to the Encyclopedia of Islam published by Türkiye Diyanet Vakfı, particularly noted that the ceiling was crafted with great care, although the capitals were all spoliated.306 In addition to that, this particular mosque’s mihrab is considered to be one of the most beautiful Seljuk mihrabs in Anatolia, with a rare use of stucco and glazed tile combination.307 Bakırer supported Eyice’s statement and added
303 Ernest Mamboury, Ankara: Guide Touristique (January, 1933); Ernest Mamboury, Ankara: Gezi Rehberi, trans. M.Emin Özcan et al. (ANKAMER 2014).
304 Eyice “Ahi Şerafeddin Camii,” 532.
305 Blessing, Rebuilding Anatolia After the Mongol Conquest, 194.
306 Eyice “Ahi Şerafeddin Camii,” 532.
307 Ibid., 532.
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that this mihrab has one of the most original tile mosaics.308 According to Öney, it is the first example where tile and stucco techniques were used together for the first time.309
The dating of this mihrab is problematic because the inscriptions pointed to the date of 1290 AD and refer to the craftsman of this particular piece, Muhammad Abi Bakr.310 In addition, the inscriptions also talk about two brothers who allegedly were patrons of the Akhi community. According to Blessing and Öney, the important thing to stress here is that, most probably, the date on the inscription refers to the construction or the renovation of the mosque.311 Therefore, it is rather difficult to detect the exact time this mihrab was added to the premise. However, also the detail used in the mihrab part may tell a lot about why Rum Seljuks utilized spoliated architectural elements in the mosque.312 At first sight, and as Eyice questioned, the presence of Roman and Byzantine capitals in the interior looks confusing if the spoliation happened just for practical reasons.313 Indeed, the practicality was a driving force since most of these pieces were probably brought from ruined buildings nearby. The intriguing part is that Rum Seljuks had craftsmen skilled enough to create such mesmerizing pieces like the mihrab, and they definitely had time to produce and put them in the mosque. Therefore, it is safe to argue that these capitals were implemented deliberately and carefully into the mosque. Based on these analyses and perspectives, one might wonder the reason behind utilizing
308 Ömür Bakırer, Anadolu Mihrapları (13 & 14.yüzyıllarda) (Türk Tarih Kurumu Basımevi, 1976).
309 Gönül Öney, Türk Çini Sanatı (Yapı ve Kredi Bankası, 1976).
310 Hacı Abdullah Erdoğan and Ebru Erdogan, “The Analysis of The Ornaments of Arslanhane Mosque Mihrab by Shape Grammar Methodology,” Kent Akademisi 15, (August 5, 2022): 93
311 Gönül Öney, Ankara’da Türk devri dini ve sosyal yapıları: The Turkish period buildings in Ankara (Ankara Üniversitesi Basımevi, 1971); McClary, “The Re-Use of Byzantine Spolia in Rūm Saljūq Architecture,” 196.
312 Erdoğan and Erdogan, “The Analysis of The Ornaments of Arslanhane Mosque Mihrab by Shape Grammar Methodology,”): 94
313 Eyice “Ahi Şerafeddin Camii,” 532.
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these capitals in the interior part. Based on the investigation done regarding the Rum Seljuk mentality of spolia use, the presence of capitals could have to do with giving the inhabitants of the conquered territories a familiar environment. Also, the reason could be about integrating the Byzantine heritage into the Rum Seljuk political agenda of self-legitimization.
4.3.2 Spolia Use in the Mosque’s Exterior Part
On the exterior part of the mosque, spolia were used on the minaret, coffin rest and northern, western, and eastern façades. The southern side is the only façade without any noticeable use of spolia since that part is the only one without an entrance to the mosque. It is, therefore, reasonable to argue that the Rum Seljuks intended for all spoliated items to be seen by the visitors and the reason for recycling these pieces of the past extended beyond mere utility (See Appendix, Figure 11). In terms of location, while entering the mosque, the stone entrance and the minaret are the first things someone can notice since all of these parts of the mosque are at the main entrance. Therefore, their decoration and style are significant since they highlight the way to enter the mosque. The minaret is adjacent to the marble gate, specifically on the northern side, and was constructed on a square base.314 Especially on the base level, it is possible to see extensive use of spolia mixed with stones. Two impost blocks were used on both the left and right-hand sides of the base. The reuse of large impost blocks on the bottom parts of the minaret reminds the reuse of marble blocks in the Alaeddin Mosque of Konya or Little Metropolis of Athens,
314 Erdoğan and Erdogan, “The Analysis of The Ornaments of Arslanhane Mosque Mihrab by Shape Grammar Methodology,” 94.
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where the aim was to reinforce the building (See Appendix, Figure 14 and 15).315 However, from a different point of view, Rum Seljuks also added railing plates in the upper section of the base, and they were integrated right in the center. On the top part of the base, before the brick minaret column starts, one can notice the use of architraves and capitals again integrated symmetrically into the minaret part of the mosque. The symmetrical arrangement of these spoliated pieces is hard not to notice, and it is clear, given the fact that Rum Seljuks gave so much consideration and time to the mihrab of the premise, that there was an aesthetic concern regarding the use of spolia.
The coffin rest or musalla taşı is a high stone placed on a rectangular table used for placing corpses during prayers. The location of the coffin rest is just next to the main entrance and in front of the minaret. This piece was merely formed with spoliated pieces (See Appendix, Figure 12 and 13). On the bottom side, two capitals were reused, holding the stone where the coffin rests. These two capitals were different in terms of their style, with one being Corinthian and the other one is a fluted capital, a capital style which was found in central Anatolia. The stone on top is also a spoliated piece, making all parts of the musalla stone a piece made solely crafted from spoliated objects. Again, the pragmatic use of this piece should not be overlooked, but this piece is engaging someone’s attention because of its location. Basically, Rum Seljuks chose to utilize spoliated pieces from Ankara’s ruined buildings and decided to implement the spoliated elements into the most visible part of the Aslanhane mosque. Regarding both the coffin
315 Redford, “The Alaeddin Mosque in Konya Reconsidered”; See also Kiilerich, “Making Sense of the Spolia in the Little Metropolis in Athens.”
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rest and the minaret, it is hard to talk about any ideological connotation except the two aforementioned concepts, but indeed, aesthetics and visibility played a huge role.
Interestingly, similar capitals were also utilized in the walls of Ankara Castle.316 Allegedly, according to Ufuk Serin, the use of many fluted capitals with different shapes in both the castle and Aslanhane mosque was not a coincidence.317 Serin argued that these capitals could be brought by numerous premises around Ankara,.318 However, since these architectural pieces are concentrated on the southern and western sides of the castle opening up to a hilly area, the most practical and logical solution for the reuse of building materials was that these heavy blocks could be brought from the closest places. Therefore, at least some of these spoliated pieces, but not all of them, could belong to a Christian cult place that existed before in the area where the Saint Clement’s church is located which is near the fortification of Ankara down the hill (See Appendix, Figure 23).319 This argument indeed needs more attention since it could reveal a possibility of Rum Seljuk's mentality of continuity by integrating architectural pieces from a church whose saint was crucial for the history of Byzantine Ankara. On the other hand, it is known that the fluted capitals were specific for central Anatolia including the Church of St. Clement.320
As mentioned before, the name Aslanhane means “the house of a lion,” and this name comes from the lion statues integrated into the wall of the mausoleum that
316 Ufuk Serin, “Bizans Ankara’sı Ve Kaybolan Bir Kültür Mirası: ‘St. Clement’ Kilisesi,” 79.
317 Ibid., 79.
318 Serin, “Bizans Ankara’sı Ve Kaybolan Bir Kültür Mirası: ‘St. Clement’ Kilisesi,” 79.
319 More about St.Clement’s church see: Peschlow, Ankara: Die bauarchäologischen; Urs Peschlow, “Ancyra,” in The Archaeology of Byzantine Anatolia: From the End of Late Antiquity until the Coming of the Turks, ed. Philipp Niewohner (Oxford University Press, 2017); Serin, “Bizans Ankara’sı Ve Kaybolan Bir Kültür Mirası,” 79–80.
320 Stephen Mitchell et al., “Church Building and Wine Making East of Ankara,” 201.
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connects to the zawiya building facing the mosque (See Appendix, Figure 16 and 17).321 This mosque was built in the early thirteenth century or, more precisely, after the period when the Latins took Constantinople in 1204.322 Interestingly, the two spoliated lion statues in the Aslanhane complex are intriguing since, as political entities who threatened Byzantine existence in the post-1204 period, the Venetians and Rum Seljuks both appropriated the lion as a symbol from the Byzantines.323
In Venice, one of the most important representations of the lion of Saint Mark (the main patron saint of the city since 828) was installed on the column in front of Palazzo Ducale (the Doge’s Palace). The symbol is affiliated with St. Mark, one of the four Evangelists since each of the four is represented with a symbol. The angel is for Matthew, the eagle is for John, the ox is for Luke, and finally, the lion is for Mark.324 Although the origin of the lion, as a symbol, is unknown, the depictions of lions are spread across numerous civilizations like Hittites, Assyrians, Persians, Romans and Byzantines.325 However, as examined before in this work, Venetians did manage to
321 Erdoğan and Erdogan, “The Analysis of The Ornaments of Arslanhane Mosque Mihrab by Shape Grammar Methodology,” 93.
322 For more about the Venetian takeover of Constantinople in 1204, see: Otto Demus and Ferdinando Forlati, The Church of San Marco in Venice: History, Architecture, Sculpture, 356; Debra Pincus, “Venice and the Two Romes,”; Benjamin Paul, The Tombs of the Doges of Venice: From the Beginning of the Serenissima to 1907 (Viella, 2016), 102.
323 For a similar comparison of spolia use in San Marco and Selkjuk Caravanserais, see Bergmeier, “Antiquarian Displays of Spolia and Roman Identity: San Marco, Merbaka, and the Seljuk Caravanserais,” 76–96.
324 Alexander Saminsky, “The Evangelists and Their Symbols in the Drawings in the Greek Manuscript in Harvard: Houghton Library, Typ 215,” Patterns. Models. Drawings. Art Readings. Thematic Peer-Reviewed Annual in Art Studies, Volumes I-II. 2019.I. Old Art (2020): 226.
325 Betül Sağıt Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm,” Antalya Second International Congress on The History of Money and Numismatics in The Mediterranean World 5-8 January 2017 (2018): 538.
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integrate and appropriate the lion symbol into their own historical narrative and tie new meanings into it, like the correlation between their city and St. Mark.326
For the Rum Seljuks, the lion figure was a significant artistic element as well. It symbolized protection, the sun and leadership.327 This image does not only appear with the spoliated lion statues, like the ones in Aslanhane, but also the material evidence shows the occurrence of the lion in various forms, like in coinage and seals.328 In fact, the lion imagery found itself a place in the Rum Seljuk coinage during the reign of Kaykhusraw II between 1237 and 1246. The silver dirham that was minted in Konya has an image of a lion on the right and a sun on the left (KE-2741).329 At first sight, as mentioned before, the lion often symbolized the sun for the Rum Seljuks, and that is why it is plausible to see these two images implemented on a coin together.
However, in light of what Terrance M.P Duggan stated in which Rum Seljuks selected to use lions in order to express their connection to the Abbasid Caliphate in the thirteenth century.330 Considering the lion was the official insignia of Abbasid Calips, and it had found a position on the Caliph’s banner, Rum Seljuks utilized this image and incorporated it into their identity with the goal of gaining political and religious acknowledgment of the Caliphate.331 The dirhams of Kaykubad III, who ruled from
326 See Pincus, “Venice and the Two Romes.”
327 Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm,” 538.
328 Ibid., 536–37.
329 See Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm.”
330 Terrance M. P. Duggan, “A 13th Century Profile Portrait Seal Depicting the Face of the Rum Seljuk Sultan Alaed-Din Keykubat I (1220-37) from Antalya Province-Precedents and Possible Influence,” ADALYA, (2007): 312.
331 Clifford Edmund Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World 1000-1217,” in The Cambridge history of Iran.V. The Saljuk and Mongol periods, ed. John Andrew Boyle (Cambridge, 1968): 79; Duggan, “A 13th Century Profile Portrait Seal Depicting the Face of the Rum Seljuk Sultan Alaed-Din Keykubat I.”
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1298 to 1302, similarly featured the sun and the lion (UR-2817).332 Furthermore, the bottom part of his coins displays the name of the Abbasid Caliph al-Muntanşir billah.333 This specific example can potentially be seen as evidence for Duggan’s claim since Rum Seljuks purposefully linked the Abbasid Caliph with the lion and the sun.334
On the other hand, this effort of legitimization with the caliph gets more complicated. On June 26, 1243, a battle occurred between the Rum Seljuks and the Mongol Empire at Kösedağ, which is called the Battle of Kösedağ. The fight ended with a decisive victory on behalf of the Mongols.335 This marked the beginning of an era where the presence of the Mongols and then their successor, Ilkhanate Mongols, influenced Anatolia.336 Indeed, the Mongol threat affected not only Anatolia but the Middle East and the Abbasid caliphate as well since Bagdad was also captured and destroyed in 1258, forcing the caliphate to relocate itself to Cairo.337
After Rum Seljuks lost the Battle of Kösedağ, the local rulers of the city added inscriptions from around the fourteenth century, like the one over the southern gate of Ankara castle. Due to the financial crisis that the Ilkhans faced, they wanted to impose rules about tax collection.338 To do that, Ilkhans added inscriptions on some of the already existing premises of Ankara, like the Ankara castle.339 Although the Ilkhans
332 Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm,” 541.
333 Bosworth, “The Political and Dynastic History of the Iranian World 1000-1217”, 82.
334 Duggan, “A 13th Century Profile Portrait Seal Depicting the Face of the Rum Seljuk Sultan Alaed-Din Keykubat I,” 317.
335 Sara Nur Yıldız, Mongol Rule in Thirteenth-Century Seljuk Anatolia: The Politics of Conquest and History Writing, 1243-1282 (Brill, 2009).
336 Yıldız, Mongol Rule in Thirteenth-Century Seljuk Anatolia: The Politics of Conquest and History Writing, 1243-1282.
337 For more, see Justin Marozzi, Baghdad: City of Peace, City of Blood (Penguin UK, 2014).
338 Blessing, Rebuilding Anatolia After the Mongol Conquest, 179.
339 Ibid., 179.
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wanted to control Anatolia mainly for fiscal purposes, their influence on the region was not impactful.340 Therefore, from the second half of the thirteenth century onwards, local patrons became more powerful in cities such as Ankara.341 These patrons were often related to Akhi and Sufi groups.342 In fact, as stated above, two Akhi patrons constructed or funded the Aslanhane Mosque. This local power, after the second half of the thirteenth century with the Ilkhanid presence in the city, could have affected the perspective towards the lion spolium.
Indeed, the numismatic evidence is useful regarding the change in perspective with the Ilkhanid rule. It is already mentioned that the coin of Kaykubad III consists of the name of the Abbasid caliph al-Mustanşir billah, who was the caliph between 1226 and 1242. Interestingly, the coin was minted around 1300/1301, approximately sixty years after the caliph died.343 This occurrence is confusing at first sight because the Ilkhans were decisive when it came to appointing a sultan to the Rum Seljuk throne until 1318. In fact, “the name of al-Muntanşir was removed, and the shahada was placed instead on the obverse” in a coin of Kaykubad III minted in Bafa in the year 1301/1302 (UE-2817).344 Removing the name of the Abbasid caliph could be due to a political problem that occurred between the Ilkhanid realm and the Rum Seljuks since the caliphate in Baghdad was taken by the Ilkhanids, and the caliph was technically their enemy in the region.345
340 Ibid., 183.
341 Blessing, Rebuilding Anatolia After the Mongol Conquest, 179 – 183.
342 Ibid., 192–193.
343 Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm,” 541.
344 Ibid., 541.
345 Marozzi, Baghdad.
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The dirhams of Kaykubad III (UE-2829) that were minted in 1300/1301 AD and with a “lion figure and an arabesque on their back” give more information regarding the political atmosphere of the period. According to Teoman, this date was known as “the blessed year, the year of wealth” and the main goal of these coins was to celebrate the new year with a wish for the end of occupation and exploitation.346 Therefore, it is possible to assume that the name of the Abbasid caliph, the lion and the sun, might have worked both as a symbol of recognition, legitimization and a way of so-called resistance towards the Ilkhanids. In this light, the implementation of the lion statue into the Aslanhane mosque could have the same connotations as was observed with the Rum Seljuk coinage. However, one must be careful since proving such a symbolic and ideological function for the lion spolia of the Aslanhane mosque since the written sources regarding these pieces are lacking information.
4.4 Spolia in the Alaeddin Mosque of Ankara
The Alaeddin Mosque of Ankara was built by Muhyiddin Mesud, the son of Kılıç Arslan II, during his time as the administrator of Ankara in 1197.347 Allegedly, the mosque was constructed at the same time as the place, and there used to be a connection between these two buildings.348 It is argued that the mosque has been mistakenly named Alaeddin, as in Alaeddin Kaykubad, who reigned the Rum Seljuks from 1220 to 1237.349 It was believed that Alaeddin Kaykubad was the one who built this mosque, but he just
346 Teoman, “Figural Coins of the Seljūqs of Rūm,” 541.
347 Çam and Yüksel, “Ankara Muhyiddin Mesud (Alaeddin) Camii’nin İlk Şekli Ve Türk Mimarisindeki Yeri,” 9.
348 Ibid., 9.
349 Ibid., 9.
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restored the edifice.350 This makes the building the oldest known mosque in Ankara.351 Although the oldest, the mosque lost its initial structure and design due to numerous restorations that have happened since the late twelfth century.352 As a matter of fact, the remains of a mihrab on the eastern side of the mosque may indicate that there was an older mosque on the spot. According to Nusret Çam and Ayşe Ersay, the old and new mosques were active and served together until the Ottoman period, and both mosques were built during the Rum Seljuk period, with the old one dating back to the mid-twelfth century.353
The mihrab of the old mosque was integrated into the southern wall of Ankara, near the main gate. Çam and Ersay stated that from the capitals and columns reused in the Alaeddin mosque, there might be a Roman temple that was converted into a church during the Byzantine period.354 Without denying the validity of this assessment, it is also possible that the Byzantines might have already constructed a church inside the citadel, close to the main entrance and adjacent to the wall, by utilizing spolia, probably taken from a Roman premise.355 One possible point that could have been made regarding this argument is that Doric capitals were utilized as spolium in the new mosque. In addition to that, in the garden of the Alaeddin mosque, there are free-standing fluted capitals similar to the ones seen in the Aslanhane mosque (See Appendix, Figure 20, 21 and 22). Remembering what Ufuk Serin, Stephen Mitchell, Philipp Niewöhner, Ali Vardar and
350 Ibid., 9.
351 Ayşe Yüksel, “Ankara Cami ve Mescitlerinde Ankara Üslubu,” Tarih ve Gelecek Dergisi 2, no. 1 (2016): 160.
352 Çam and Ersay Yüksel, “Ankara Muhyiddin Mesud (Alaeddin) Camii’nin İlk Şekli Ve Türk Mimarisindeki Yeri,” 10.
353 Ibid., 9
354 Ibid., 15.
355 Ibid., 15.
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Levent Egemen Vardar stated regarding the use of similar impost blocks and capitals on the walls of Ankara Castle, the Aslanhane mosque and the periphery of central Anatolia, the presence of the same capitals in the garden of the Alaeddin mosque is indeed intriguing and requires further attention.356
4.5 Remarks and Limitations of the Two Mosques
This chapter aimed to understand the Rum Seljuk mentality of spolia use, starting with an analysis of the buildings in Rum Seljuk's capital, Konya. This investigation showed two main themes behind the Rum Seljuk spoliation in addition to the practical aspect, which was visible in nearly every case. The first theme was about preserving the past and inheritance by repairing already existing spoliated pieces on fortifications. The second was about how Rum Seljuks utilized some spoliated pieces in the buildings that they constructed as a tool to slowly integrate the people into their own religion and culture or even political agenda. These particular forms of reuse were also observed in the Aslanhane mosque. However, the case of Aslanhane mosque showed another possible point of view regarding the Rum Seljuk mentality of spoliation, which can be categorized as both mnemonic and non-physical reuse. Similar to the transformation of the double-headed eagle and its adaptation from Byzantines to the Seljuk realm, the devices of the lion and the sun also worked as non-physical spoliated materials.
Based on the numismatic evidence and spolia integrated on the walls of the Aslanhane complex, it is also possible to state that the Rum Seljuks modified and altered images in accordance with their current political agendas, rather than merely using marble objects to show themselves as the continuation of the Byzantines. This led to the
356 Serin, “Bizans Ankara’sı Ve Kaybolan Bir Kültür Mirası,” 79–80.
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transformation of a Roman or Byzantine image into a portrait of the Abbasid caliph. The two lion spolia in Aslanhane are noteworthy because of how strikingly similar they are to the lion spolium of St. Mark in Venice at first sight. The Venetian use of spolia, for instance, was not to highlight triumph over the defeated enemy; rather, by redesigning the spolia, they attempted to incorporate these pieces into their historical narrative. However, they re-carved spolia as they were made in the fifth century, and this can be associated with a policy to amalgamate the Roman and Byzantine past into their history. Opposed to Venetians, Rum Seljuks tried to fix the damaged portions of some spolium at Konya instead of re-carving them. They also referred to themselves as the Sultanate of Rum.
In addition to that, the spoliated lion sculpture on the façade of Aslanhane mosque added another layer to the Seljuk way of using spolia. At first glance, the Venetian way of altering the symbolic meaning of the Mediterranean lion and using it as a representation of Mark the Evangelist in a church dedicated to Mark looked similar to the possible Rum Seljuk way of implementing the lion spolium in a religious complex and relating it with the caliph. On closer inspection, the numismatic evidence reveals another possible use for the lion where the image of the lion on the coinage of the period might have worked as a symbol to resist the Ilkhanid rule and pressure over the Rum Seljuks. This argument, indeed, requires further attention and research, but it is interesting that non-physical spoliation could work not only as tools for inheritance or history building but for protest and resistance as well.
This work also called the Alaeddin mosque of Ankara under scrutiny. Based on a comparison with the Aslanhane mosque and general architectural trends of spoliation for
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the Rum Seljuks in Ankara, this paper also brought some arguments to the table regarding the presence of a church that might have been constructed with spoliated materials during the Byzantine period. Indeed, literary texts and archaeological evidence regarding this particular case still need to be included. Still, to open the way for further research about the premise, this work decided to mention and analyze this mosque by bringing some statements into the picture.
For some of the architectural pieces in the Aslanhane and Alaeddin mosques, this work made 3D models using photogrammetry. As observed for the figural relief that was implemented on the curtain wall of Ankara, the one that used to have the image of Nike/ Victory, photographing and creating 3D models of these pieces are crucial since most of these objects are just free-standing in the garden of the Alaeddin mosque, losing their design features. As seen, examining Nike's figural relief was only possible thanks to some photographs taken in the 20th century. Therefore, this work intended to document some of the selected spolium for further research to be more accurate. The 3D modeling of spolia in these edifices can be improved with the help of advanced technological gadgets like a drone with high photography capabilities to model spolia at higher altitudes for both the castle and mosques. Such a project needs approval and funding from related government bodies since these technological gadgets are expensive.
CHAPTER 5: CONCLUSIONS
In the conclusion part of his article, Arnold Esch stressed that “the research on spolia becomes interesting and rewarding only when one goes beyond it.”357 The reason behind his statement lies in the fact that the availability of ancient materials does not provide
357 Esch, “On the Reuse of Antiquity,” 27.
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much ground to explore, meaning that the only explanation we can come up with is limited within the borders of the pragmatic approach. Indeed, the pragmatic side of the coin is valid, and as it is observed, most ancient pieces have been reused in different edifices of Ankara because of the availability of the materials. However, the pragmatic approach alone does not shed light on the whole picture of spolia use. For instance, it does not explain why places like Venice, where there were nearly no ancient buildings, had an immense amount of spolia embedded on the premises constructed there. The distance matters, especially while talking about the possible symbolic connotations infused into a particular spolium like the ones in St. Mark.
On the other hand, this thesis aimed to show how some spolia that were brought from close proximity could have worked the same as the ones that traveled a long distance. As the argument of the thesis was to present how spolia use was a complex phenomenon that was highly influenced by the period’s political, economic and religious atmosphere, the case studies presented throughout this work, like the fortifications of Ankara and the two mosques, Aslanhane and Alaeddin showed how the Byzantines and Rum Seljuks also utilized spolia from closer distances and gave a symbolic message to the audience.
To achieve such conclusions, I have utilized different types of literary and material sources from various periods. I presented these sources from a comparative perspective, and it was useful when the literary sources were lacking. Each chapter regarding the spolia on selected premises of Ankara first presented how spolia concentrated in the mosques and fortifications. This step of the investigation of spolia fits the idea that Kiilerich named as a global aesthetic viewing. Then, specific spolia
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were called under scrutiny, which can also be defined as the focal viewing of spolia.358 As a result, this work followed a structure that each human does naturally, which is to observe the general picture first and then to focus on specific details.
On top of that, I also have benefited from digital tools. Indeed, using these different methods and perspectives of research allowed me to take one step further from just analyzing a specific spolium in a building and looking for its original place. The map created in the GIS environment helped to find out how some similar architectural pieces were both used as spolia in the Alaeddin and Aslanhane mosques, probably brought from some premises of Ankara. In addition, the diachronic approach provided an interesting angle to observe and prove how different political entities in different periods, especially in the ninth and thirteenth centuries, infused different meanings to spolia due to their political struggles.
The 3D models, on the other hand, turned out to be useful for visualizing spolia and detecting similarities and differences between the material itself and the purpose of reuse. These 3D models also opened a path for future research. Since throughout this thesis, only some selected pieces in Aslanhane and Alaeddin mosques were converted into 3D models, the range and selection of the spolia can be extended. For instance, a highly detailed documentation of building materials, both the ones used as spolia and the ones stayed intact, of the fortifications of Ankara, St. Clement’s church, the Temple of Augustus and Rome and the two mosques of Aslanhane and Alaeddin can be helpful to
358 For more about the global and focal aesthetic viewing see: Kiilerich, “The Aesthetic Viewing of Marble.”
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both detect the original places of some spolia and to conserve the materials of the past for preserving the cultural heritage of the city.
The new techniques and perspectives allowed me to reconsider and examine some of the spolia related to Ankara’s rich history. My research also tried to contribute to the histories of Byzantium and Rum Seljuks and, while doing that, provided some provocative and interesting ideas that can be challenged for future research. The interdisciplinary and comparative approaches that I crafted throughout this work presented how the use of spolia can reveal certain mentalities of the people who lived in the past and how the complexity of the material can be infused with concepts like politics and religion.
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APPENDIX
This part of the thesis is financially supported by Koç University Suna & İnan Kıraç Research Center for Mediterranean Civizilizations. Thanks to the support for this work, it became possible for me to utilize digital tools and create 3D models of some selected spolia integrated into the walls of two Rum Seljuk mosques of Ankara, Aslanhane and Alaeddin. In addition to that, I created an interactive map in the scope of the project which helped me to geo locate the selected spolium both in the aforementioned mosques and the fortification of Ankara. This project indeed elevated the way I examined spolia throughout my thesis and helped me to visualize and contribute to the conservation of the heritage of Ankara.
The map is created in GIS environment utilizing uMap, an online mapping system that is built on OpenStreetMap. Both uMap and OpenStreetMap are open data. The location of each spolium and building were detected by utilizing a GPS software called Mergin Maps. This app helps researchers to geo spatialize data by georeferencing photos and transcribing GPS coordinates.
This map consists of two layers. The first one “Symbolically Reused Artifacts”, marked with a blue dot on the map, refers to spolia integrated to give a symbolic message to the audience. “Practically Reused Artifacts” marked with a red dot, refers to spolia used for utility. These two layers were displayed with the following associated data: name, number of items, typology, description, and photographs and provenance. Also, it is possible to find information about the mosques and gates highlighted in purple.
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The 3D figures were created with photogrammetry. Selected spolia were photographed with a professional camera and phone. Then, taken photos were uploaded to a program called Agisoft Metashape, a software designed for processing digital images and generating 3D models. These images help to conserve the heritage of Ankara and give an opportunity to analyze and compare the models in digital environment. In light of these, the following pages will demonstrate the screenshots from the interactive map and 3D models crafted for this thesis work. It is possible to see the map via visiting the webpage https://umap.openstreetmap.fr/en/map/spolia-on-the-walls-of-ankara-castle-aslanhane-and_970215#17/39.93527/32.86481.
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Figure 1: Map of selected spolia and premises of Ankara.
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Figure 2: Main Gate of the inner circuit (C Kapı, Parmak Kapı).
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Figure 3: Inscriptions of Michael III (324,325,326).
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Figure 4: Figural Reliefs on the walls of Ankara castle.
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Figure 5: Well Parapet inserted as spolia on the walls of Ankara.
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Figure 6: Four Herms used as spolia on the walls of Ankara Castle.
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Figure 7: Chi-rho carved into spolium on the walls of Ankara Castle.
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Figure 8: Spoliated piece of a garland sarcophagus (Bull Figure) in Ankara Castle.
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Figure 9: Spoliated piece of a garland sarcophagus (female masked figure) in Ankara Castle.
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Figure 10: Spoliated piece of a garland sarcophagus (Eros and a female mask) in Ankara Castle.
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Figure 11: Aslanhane Mosque in Ankara
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Figure 12: Musalla stone (coffin rest) made of spolia in Aslanhane Mosque of Ankara.
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Figure 13: 3D Model of the Coffin Rest of the Aslanhane Mosque of Ankara.
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Figure 14: Spolia on the minaret of the Aslanhane mosque.
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Figure 15: 3D model of impost block integrated into the minaret of Aslanhane mosque.
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Figure 16: Lion statue in the Aslanhane Complex
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Figure 17: 3D model of the lion spolium located in the Aslanhane Complex
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Figure 18: Capitals at the Mausoleum of Aslanhane (Ahi Şerafettin)
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Figure 19: Capital located in the Aslanhane complex.
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Figure 20: Sultan Alaeddin Mosque of Ankara.
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Figure 21: Spolia in the Garden of Alaeddin Mosque
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Figure 22: 3D models of spolia found in the garden of Alaeddin Mosque of Ankara.
Fluted Capital
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Fluted Capital no.2
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Marble piece with an inscription on it.
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Figure 23: St. Clement’s Church, located in Ankara.