Week 7: Ottoman Art

During my spring break trip to Turkey, I was exposed to artwork in Istanbul that was unlike many of the collections I’ve seen while in London. Often, when we visit art museums in London, there is an emphasis on classic, European Renaissance artwork. In other words, because I’m living in a major European center of culture and history, it makes sense that so much of the artwork here reflects that. I have a great affinity for these classic pieces, but I sometimes feel they can become monotonous, especially in large collections. It was both unusual and refreshing then, to discover a new style of art in the museums and mosques of Turkey. Below are two samples of what I consider to be European art: a portrait of Henry VIII at the Tate Britain museum, and the ceiling of the Banqueting House by Rubens, both in London. Artwork such as these were nowhere to be found in Turkey.

           What I found instead of these pieces in Turkey was brightly colored patterned tiles throughout the city at holy cites. There were fewer portraits, with an emphasis instead on creating harmonious sacred environments inside mosques. As the capital of Turkey and a bridge between Europe and Asia, Istanbul serves as both a religious and cultural epicenter for the country. The result of this status is myriad mosques sprinkled across the city that serve as places of worship, museums, and tourist attractions. The mosques are unique pieces of art on both the outside and the inside. The stone structures are covered on the outside with gilded Koran scripture, and are always recognizable from their domes and steeples. Two of the most notable mosques are the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sophia, both of which have striking exterior features and are pictures below. The mosques stood out because of their structural differences from their European counterparts: Christian churches. On the interior of the mosques, their differences became even more pronounced. Inside, every mosque was unique, but each with the same incredible intricate, rich designs on the walls, with the most ornate patterns on the ceilings. Rather than the gilded, stained glass interior of many European Churches, which are heavy with idolic statues, the interior emphasis of the mosques seemed to be on color, design, and harmony. Below are some of my favorite interior designs of mosques in Sultanahmet, Istanbul. 

The exterior of a Christian church in Istanbul, in contrast to the mosques below:

           Seeing so many examples of Ottoman artwork made me critically recall the experiences in art museums I've had while in London. In the second week of our program, we visited the Victoria & Albert Museum as a class, where I was interested in the Ottoman exhibit. At that time, the Ottoman tilework and fabric examples were intriguing to me because of their place of origin, rather than because of their beauty. After my trip to Turkey, I revisited this exhibit at the V&A last week, wondering if I would interpret them differently than I did the first time. My response to the tile work was not as it had been the first time I visited the V&A, and was not the same as my response in Turkey. This time, I connected to the tilework because of my own personal experience in their place of origin, and I was nostalgic for their original environment. For some reason, it was hard for me to get past the fact that I was observing these patterns through glass inside a museum in England, and that completely changed my experience. Ultimately, I’ve learned that the environment in which I’m exposed to artwork has a great impact on how I respond to it. In the case of the Ottoman tiles especially, I am able to appreciate them more when they are “in their element.” In other words, to see beautifully intricate, rich colors on the interior domes of mosques in Turkey is incredibly impressive; on the other hand, to see them behind glass in a museum in London is not doing them full justice. While their beauty is still the same at face value, they do not have the same aura of spirituality, which does so much to enrich the experience of their audience. Below are some examples of the Ottoman artwork inside the V&A museum, which are lacking personality in comparison with the tilework in Turkey, above.