Dolmabahce and Bazaars Revisited

I was originally planning on skipping Dolmabahce Palace.  Being a life-long ancient history and archaeology buff, I was more interested in seeing sites related to Constantinople and the early Ottoman Empire.  However, I later learned the palace was home to Ataturk as well as the last Ottoman Sultans. I have a paper to write about Ataturk and his political legacy, dubbed Kemalism, when I return to Boston and decided that a visited to Dolmabahce might be useful for research purposes.

I first mentioned Dolmabace Palace in my Bosphorus Walk Part I post.  The palace is located directly on the Bosphorus waterfront, north of the Golden Horn and the old city.  It was built in the mid-19th century and was home to the last 6 Ottoman Sultans.

The landmark clock tower next to the front gate of the palace.

Unlike Topkapi Palace, groups of visitors are led through the palace by a guide and there is no photography allowed inside.  The numerous fragile and extremely valuable pieces of furniture, art and  fixtures makes tighter supervision necessary.

The palace interior was decorated in a European neo-classical, rocco and baroque styles and therefore bears little resemblance to the home of the previous sultans at Topkapi.  However, there are numerous and sometimes subtle touches that distinguish the palace as a uniquely Turkish residence.  There are small, freestanding ceramic fireplaces or round metal charcoal heaters in every room, Arabic calligraphy adorns the walls, the bathrooms are designed as private hamams (Turkish baths) and, most noticeably, the palace is divided into the public salons and the private harem.

Some highlights of the public, official sections of the palace include:
The diplomatic reception room where representatives of foreign governments were greeted by snarling bear-skin rugs
The sultan's personal hamam, which features carved alabaster walls, silver fixtures, star shaped skylights and a stunning view of the Bosphorus.
The massive ceremonial hall featuring one of the world's largest crystal chandeliers.  On one side the hall now stands a 7 foot high reprint of Ataturk's first speech as president of the Republic of Turkey, a speech he gave in this hall.  His body also lay in state in the hall after his death.

Ataturk spent summers living in the palace and used two rooms in the harem section of the palace as his private bedroom and study.  During his final illness he stayed in Dolmabahce and died his room there on November 10, 1938.  All the clocks in the palace used to be stopped at his time of death, 905 am.  Though this no longer seems to be true for clocks throughout the rest of the palace, there is still a clock at his bedside set to this time.  Ataturk's death bed is covered in a satin Turkish flag and his rooms in the palace prominently display photographs and artwork related to him.  The contents of his rooms visibly marked them off from the rest of the palace.  I was expecting to see some signs of particular reverence from the Turks in my tour group as we passed through Ataturk's rooms.  However, I did not witnesses any marked reaction from the Turks I was with.  This could perhaps be explained by the fact that the Turks I saw were obviously of the consciously Islamic, as opposed to secular, lifestyle.

The last two days I have spent a good deal of time last-minute souvenir shopping.  This has meant return trips to both the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar.

The Grand Bazaar is massive and ancient mall, full of tiny winding corridors, dead ends
and open air courtyards.  It's oldest parts date to 1461 and many merchants' families have been selling their wares in the bazaar since Ottoman times.  Between 250,000 and 500,000 people visit the bazaar everyday.  However, as this New York Times article points out, there has been no coordinated effort to update and renovate the aging structure.  Apparently, no master floor plan for the bazaar even exists.  Continued structural neglect paired with jerry-rigged utilities could spell disaster for Istanbul's historic heart of commerce.  Let's just hope the worst case scenario doesn't come to pass.

Today I also visited the open air shops that fill in the space outside the "L" shaped Spice Bazaar.



 For a rogue dove, many of the shops in this space are provide an all-you-can-eat buffet.

Despite Istanbul's status as one of the world's largest urban areas, the shops around the Spice Bazaar specialize not only in plants, seeds and gardening supplies but also small livestock and pets.

One can find multiple breeds of chicken as well as ducks and geese.  Stores also sold kittens and puppies (despite the multitude of sokak kedis and kopeks), hamsters, rabbits and some other, more unusual animals.

What I originally thought to be more Turkish Turkeys turned out to be a pair of peacocks.

The most bizaar and slightly frightening creatures for sale were leeches.  They seemed to be marketed as a medical cure-all of sorts.  When I rounded a corner, I found that there were multiple leech vendors in the bazaar.

And one had somehow managed to dump a bucket of his wares all over the ground.  The leeches were making their escape inch-by-inch and the shop owner was chasing them down with tweasers and a net.  Needless to say, I didn't stick around long after taking this picture.

Performances

Yesterday afternoon Peter returned to Boston.  I apologize for the lack of posting during his time here but, as he pointed out, much of the past week was spent revisting the major tourist sites of Istanbul.  It was fun to play tour guide and get a second look at the Hagia Sophia, Topkapi Palace and Archaeology Museum.

Yesterday evening I went to an Istanbul Music Festival performance at the Hagia Eirene church.  You may remember this church from the previous post on Topkapi Palace.  I had originally planned to attend a performance with Peter but the concerts that overlapped with his time here "priced out the riff-raff", as he put it.  The program I heard was performed by the Geneva Chamber Orchestra, conducted by and featuring on piano David Greilsammer. The concert included pieces by Mozart, Maurice Ravel and Jean-Philippe  Rameau.

The building itself dates from the 6th century but is at least the third church to be constructed on this site.  It is nearly stripped bare of decoration both inside and out.  The most ornate piece of art is the black on gold mosaic cross decorating the half-dome over the apse.  This stark simplicity was a product of the iconoclastic period in the Orthodox Church.  Between 726 and 843 AD all existing icons were destroyed and only certain symbols were permitted as ornaments in places of worship.

Today I spent the day hanging around Istiklal Blvd. before I went to see another, very different, kind of performance: a Sufi Mevlevi Sema, better known as the Whirling Dervishes.

I stumbled across this awesome shop called By Retro.  Located in the expansive basement of an ancient apartment building off Istiklal, this shop has all the charm of treasure hunting in your great-aunt's basement without the cat-pee smell that usually goes along with it. Winding corridors are lit with chandeliers and lined with double rows of vintage skirts, dresses, blouses and jackets.  Nooks and crannies hide kitschy paintings, posters, bags and over the top costumes.  A great place to check out when you get tired of the cloying monotony of the chain stores and souvenir shops on Istiklal.

I walked up Istiklal to Taksim Square and was greeted by yet another of Istanbul's frequent public rallies.  This event was an informal parade organized for Gay Pride Week.  Revelers carried rainbow flags as well as signs in both Turkish and Armenian.  There was a small army of policemen in a nearby corner of the square, heavily armed and bored.  The numerous onlookers craned their necks in curiosity and I saw no hostility even from the most obviously pious members of the crowd.

I had mixed feelings about attending the Mevlevi Sema.  As part of one of my undergraduate religion classes, we had watched and analyzed this type of ceremony.  I remembered the hypnotizing beauty of the soft music and twirling worshipers.  However, the commercialization, and in following desacralization, of the ceremony bothered me quite a bit.  This was amplified by the fact that the Mevlevi's traditional headquarters, referred to quite erroneously in English as a monastery, is currently undergoing extensive "renovation". Therefore the Semas have been moved to a some what shabby nearby theater, completing the transformation of the Sema from communion with God to pure performance.

Sufi brotherhoods, and in following their ceremonies, were banned by Ataturk in 1924.  However, Sufi brotherhoods went underground and many men continued to join their ranks, including politicians.  Starting in 1954, the government granted the Mevlevi order permission to perform their ceremonies solely for tourist audiences.  This use of the Mevlevi Sema for commercial purposes has only grown since then. You can find images of the "Whirling Dervishes" on postcards, t shirts, tiles and just about anything else marketed to tourists.  Watching the ceremony in the half empty theater, amongst an obnoxious cascade of camera flashes, was a strange experience. Throughout the ceremony, I wondered:  What did the "dervishes" think of their objectification?  What did the audience know about the ceremony they were watching?  Could the Sema even be considered sacred anymore?  Perhaps the relationship between religion, tourism, the state could turn into a research topic for me in the future.

To learn about the structure, meaning and purpose of a Sema click here.

Guest Post by Peter

Claire has asked me to write up my reactions to my week in Istanbul.  When I revealed my first reactions, that this place is hot and crowded, she asked me to try harder.  After I acclimated myself to the heat (sort of) and shed that American expectation of personal space that simply doesn’t exist here, I was able to reflect a little more deeply upon my time here.

To someone who has only traveled in Western Europe, I found Istanbul to be a little disorienting.  Parts of the city certainly look and feel like a nondescript central European neighborhood,  but just as you become comfortable with this familiarity the city throws you a curveball; whether it be the call to prayer echoing through the streets or a merchants accosting you in a strange language.   Scanning the faces of the throngs of people on the streets does not clarify the issue.  I learned quickly that almost anyone, no matter how Caucasian they look, can be ethnically Turkish.  There are even a few Turks that have hair redder than the average Irishmen.  This place is truly a mix of Europe and Asia and one must become used to both the familiar and the exotic.

However, I enjoyed my time here.  The people were friendly for the most part and understanding of my 10 word Turkish vocabulary.  The food was excellent, though a little monotonous.  I saw no foreign food beyond a few US fast food chains.  One thing that is exactly the same between this city and any other historic European one is the ever present reminder of the past.  That was the main draw for me and the city delivered.  The city is rich in Roman, Byzantine, and Ottoman art and architecture to the point that the archeology museum’s collection spills out into the gardens that surround it.  Claire has documented much of what I have visited in previous posts.  I’m simply going to include contribute a few photos from my time here.

Topkapi Palace

Hagia Sophia 

Archeology Museum

The Remaining Aquaduct

The Golden Horn

Catch- up Day

Today Peter is arriving for a week-long visit here.  Therefore, I'm taking it easy today, catching up on sleeping, cleaning and blogging in anticipation of his arrival.

On Thursday, I visited the Museum of Turkish and Islamic Arts.  This museum's collection consists exclusively of artifacts from Islamic empires, with a heavy focus on those that were founded by Turks.

The museum occupies the palatial former home of the most important of Suleyman the Magnificent's grand viziers, Ibrahim Pasa.

Detail of a mosque door from Konya, Turkey.

The museum houses a vast collection of rugs and flat-woven kilims.  They line the walls of the former great hall of the palace in an explosion of colors and patterns.

Yesterday, I visited the neighborhood of Fener, a knot of streets hard against the northern end of the old city walls.  This area was dominated for centuries by Greek and Jewish communities and contains numerous, but now rarely used, Orthodox Churches.

The church of St. Stephen of the Bulgars is unique in a number of ways.  Unlike most other churches built in Ottoman Istanbul, its grounds are open to the surrounding streets.  It was built in 1871 to serve a community of Bulgarian Christians who had broken with the Greek Orthodox Church. 

However, the feature that makes this church truly unusual is that it is made entirely of cast iron.  Made in Vienna, it was shipped in pieces and assembled at its current location near the shore of the Golden Horn.

Unlike the previous churches I have visited, I was allowed to take pictures inside St. Stephen's.

A short distance from St. Stephen's is the complex of the Greek Orthodox Patriarch. The head of the Greek Orthodox Church has been based at its current home since the 17th century.  Though the Greek community is largely gone from Istanbul, the church's Patriarch still remains, a silent testimony to Istanbul's origins as a Greek city.

The front door of the complex has been welded shut.  At the beginning of the Greek War of Independence, Patriarch Gregory V encouraged his people to revolt against the Ottoman Empire.  As a result, he was hanged for treason from the front door of the Patriarchy.  From that time, the door has been permanently shut in his memory.

The complex's church, St. George, dates from 1720 and is a glittering spectacle of gold, silver, colorful icons and inlaid wood.  The Patriarch's throne in the second photo is thought to date back to Byzantine times.

The neighborhood of Fener itself feels like it has been frozen in time.  Bunches of children roam the streets, women lean out of second floor windows, conversing with neighbors, tiny shops specialize in providing one type of goods to the neighborhood.  Many of the homes appear to date from Ottoman times and are a hodge-podge of color, style and decor.

Unfortunately, many similar buildings are in absolute ruins.  There is some evidence that certain buildings, especially stone ones, are being renovated and re-purposed.  However, neglect seems to be norm.  I can only speculate that since this area receives few tourists (except for the ones bused in to the Greek Patriarchy) its upkeep is of little concern to the government.

Since Peter is going to be here, we may have some guest posts from him and his impressions of Istanbul in the up coming days.

Until then, I leave you with a sokak kedi on a motorcycle.

Yildiz Palace Park

Today I escaped the heat of the city and took a stroll through the grounds of yet another former Ottoman palace.  Yildiz (Star) Palace was built on what was formerly the garden of the Ciragan Palace (the palace that is now a hotel).  Built during the late 19th and early 20th centuries, the grounds contain not only housing for the Sultan and his family, but also guest housing, a porcelain factory and two prisons.

This lovely, pink building, called the Cadir Pavilion, was once housed political prisoners.  Both Cadir and Malta, the other former prison, now house restaurants.

The wooded grounds are now filled with benches, picnic tables and playgrounds.  Less crowded than Gulhane park, it still seems to be quite a popular spot for families, school groups and couples.  This former Imperial abode has been thoroughly democratized, but there is still the air of royalty about the place.  Even the sokak kedis act a little more imperial.

When animals (and Ataturks) attack

Yesterday I visited Sirkeci Station, the former terminal of the fabled Orient Express and the small but spectacular Mosaics Museum.

Officially opened in 1890 it retains its beautiful architectural details but still seems a sad shell of its former self.  The Orient Express died a slow death during the Cold War and officially went out of service in 1977.  The station is currently flanked by a gas station and parking lot, a stark reminder of how drastically transportation has changed since the station's opening. 

This frightening, soviet-style Ataturk monument now sits in the center of the station, sharply contrasting with its Victorian-Orientalist surroundings.

The Great Palace Mosaic Museum was build directly over a part of the Great Palace of the Byzantine Emperors.  The section of the palace included in the museum was excavated in the 1930s, uncovering a vast, partially intact mosaic floor dating to around the 5th century AD.  It is thought that this mosaic decorated the colanade leading from the royal apartments to the emperor's private box next to the Hippodrome.  The floor has been cleaned, stabilized and returned to it's original location. 

The floor contains numerous small scenes, many of which involve hunting or animals, both real and mythic, devouring other animals.

The walls also display mosaics discovered in other parts of the palace.  As you can see, animals and violence was a well-loved theme.