Spectacle and Worship Byzantine Liturgy in its Urban and Architectural Setting in the Fifth to Seventh Centuries

Britt-Inger Johansson, docent, Lund & Uppsala Universities Britt-Inger.Johansson@arthist.lu.se

This paper ows its existance to a longer essay on Byzantine liturgy and church architecture in Constantinople written by me in connection with a phd-course in Byzantinology in 2002. That essay was published in Swedish at the web site of the Swedish Institute in Istanbul in the autumn the same year. The conference theme gave the opportunity to develop one topic covered further by asking the following questions: What was the relationship between the urban landscape, church architecture and ritual in the pre-iconoclastic period? What role did visual experience play in Byzantine liturgy in its urban and architectural setting at that time? How did visuality relate to spatiality? What meanings may be deduced from it?1 To answer these questions the paper analyses the interaction of the popular processions of the station liturgy and the liturgy of the Eucharist in conjunction with church interiors and the urban landscape of 5th -7th century Constantinople.

Of particular use has been discussions in Baldovin, John Francis, The Urban Character of Christian Worship in Jerusalem, Rome, and Constantinople from the Fourth to the Tenth Centuries, Diss 1982) later published as The Urban Character of Christian Worship: The Origins, Development and Meaning of Stational Liturgy, Orientalia Christiana Analecta (Pont. Institutum Studiorum Orientalium: Roma 1987). Also, Liz James interpretations of the role of visuality in Byzantine sacred art in two essays have been inspirational for the production of this paper: Color and Meaning in Byzantium, Journal of Early Christian Studies 11:2 (2003), pp. 223-233 and Senses and Sensibility in Byzantium, Art History vol. 27, no 4, September 2004, pp. 522-537.
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The present day Great Church of Constantinople, Hagia Sophia, was built in 532-37 during the reign of Emperor Justinian. It replaced a previous church which was burnt down during the Nika Riot but had been inaugurated already in 360 during the reign of Emperor Constantine II as the new cathedral.2 Constantine II was an adherent of the Aryan heresy, and had dispossessed the Nicaean Christians of the churches of the city.3 Thus, Hagia Sophia originally belonged to the Aryans. After two decades, Theodosius I ejected the Aryans in 381 and returned the same churches to the sole disposition of the Nicaean party. The Aryans were thenceforth allowed to celebrate mass only outside the city walls. This brings us to the initiation of the Constantinopolitan stational liturgy which grew out of the conflict between the Aryans and the Orthodox. The following brief account of its development is mainly based on John Francis Baldovins comparative study of the station liturgies in Rome, Jerusalem and Constantinople.4 The newly dispossessed Aryans would assemble in a public square in Constantinople to celebrate a night vigil singing hymns. At dawn they would demonstratively walk in procession to the church they were still allowed to use outside the city walls to celebrate Eucharist. These processions attracted people, and were therefore regarded as a threat to the Nicaean party. In an atmosphere of
2 Mathews, Thomas F., The Early Churches of Constantinople, (Pennsylvania State University Press: University Park/London 1971), p. 12 3 Mainstone, Rowland J., Hagia Sophia: Architecture, Structure and Liturgy of Justinians Great Church (Thames & Hudson: London 1988), p. 131. The Nicaeans were those who adhered to the proclamation of trinitarian faith established by a Council in Nicaea in 4th century, whereas the Aryans diverged from that theological dogma. 4 Aside from Baldovin (1987), pp. 181-204, see also Taft, Robert, The Byzantine Rite: A Short History, American Essays in Liturgy (The Liturgical Press: Collegeville, Minn. 1992), pp. 30-32. Berger, Albrecht has discussed the station liturgy further in its later medieval stage in the essay Imperial and Ecclesiastical Processions in Constantinople, Byzantine Constantinople: Monuments, Topography and Everyday Life (Ed. Nevra Necipoglu), (Brill: Leiden-Boston-Kln 2001), pp.73-88

one-upmanship the patriarch John Chrysostom initiated similar nightly Nicaean processions around 400. Carrying torches, the Nicaeans would walk in popular procession, stopping at certain intervals, so-called stations in churches or squares, to pray and sing along the route in an attempt to shout down the Aryans. To make their own processions more visually spectacular than their competitors, the patriarch persuaded the Empress Eudoxia to donate expensive silver crucifixes and candle holders to be carried at the head of the processions. By joining either the Aryan or the Nicaean procession the individual signaled both doctrinal belonging and collective identity. A tad anachronistically, one might say that this popular liturgy of the streets became a multimedia show and a forceful visual argument in an ongoing public debate and a weapon in the power struggle between the two religious factions.5 In time, the Aryans were forbidden to hold vigils, but the Nicaean processions continued. One reason was that they increased the air of festivity of the Christian religious services so that they could compete with secular spectacles like circus games and horse races at the Hippodrome. The development of material and ritualistic splendour of the station liturgies thus functioned as a means of advertising Christianity to the part of the populace not yet converted. The station liturgy eventually received a new purpose as it became the expression of a unified orthodox Constantinople.6 An understanding of the experiential meaning of this development may be founded on the following definition of religion and ritual by the scholar Robert Taft SJ:
A religion is // a shared perspective, a common outlook on reality. As such it depends on the groups collective remembrance of things past, of events that have been transformed in the collective memory of the community into key symbolic episodes determinative of the communitys being and selfunderstanding //. For it is through the interpretation of the past that a community relates to the present and copes with the future. In the process of ritual representation, past constitutive events are made present in ritual time, in

5 6

Baldovin (1987), p. 185 and 210. Baldovin (1987), p. 210-211.

order to communicate their force to new generations of the social group, providing thus a community of identity through history. 7

The structure of the Constantinopolitan station liturgy was founded on key events of different kinds, merging the religious with the secular. Not only religious feastdays were celebrated with popular processions. In moments of city crises a station liturgy might be formed so that the populace could call on divine protection, this occurred for instance during an earthquake in the 5th century. If divine aid had been dispensed, then that day would be proclaimed a public holiday and a commemorative station liturgy would be established for all time.

Eventually, these processions became more formalised and elaborate, and were reserved for certain feast days rather than being a weekly occurrence as they originally seems to have been. Hymns and antiphons were created for different procession days, and formal prayers were included, eventually even lessons. By the by, the station liturgy became an important defining element in the liturgical development in Constantinople and an important factor in the production and reproduction of civic and religious identity for its citizenry. The station liturgy contributed to a visual sacralisation of the whole city, where the Emperor resided as the Vicar of Christ. Streets, squares and market places became extensions of the
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Taft, Robert, The Liturgy of the Hours in the Christian East: Origins, Meaning, Place in the Life of the Church, (Liturgical Press: Collegeville Minn. 1986), p. 236.

churches during processions and the churches became nodes of collective manifestations of shared identity in the urban fabric.8 They were both physical points of departure, as well as goals for the processions, which created a dynamic flow through the arteries of the city fuelled by the movement of human bodies. Likewise, the liturgy of the Eucharist was also influenced by them as Baldovin has shown. The liturgies of the civic and religious public spheres enmeshed nation, city and religion in a tightly wound web of shared meaning and identity peculiar for Constantinople.9 The founding of the city, the overcoming of natural disasters and foreign invasions were included and commemorated in public rituals10 side by side with saints days and other religious feast days related to scriptural events; thus incorporating them all not only in a historical but also an eschatological perspective while grounding them in the actual city. The processions reminded the citizenry of Constantinople of divine grace in troubled times and offered the hope of eternal glory to the faithful.
Hagia Eirene, longitudinal section.

This brings us into the 6th century and the prosperous, long reign of Justinian who initiated a large number of ecclesiastical building efforts, including rebuilding Hagia Sophia as previously mentioned.11 As Baldovin concludes: Many of the churches that figure significantly in the citys stational liturgy receive their final form at this time.12 Architectonically, this period is characterised by experiments with new shapes,
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Aside from the main thoroughfares, cardo & decumanus, and some market places, the exact streetplanlayout of Constantinople is still under debate, cfp Berger, Albrect, Streets and Public Spaces in Constantinople, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, vol. 54, 2000, pp. 161-172 and Dark, K.R., Houses, Streets and shops in Byzantine Constantinople from the fifth to the twelfth centuries, Journal of Medieval History, Vol. 30, No 2, 2004, pp. 83-107. 9 Baldovin (1987), p. 197, see also p. 211. 10 Baldovin (1987), p. 169, 186-188, 190 and 197.. 11 Procopius, Buildings (The Loeb Classical Library: Harvard/London 1961), pp. 10-79. 12 Baldovin (1968), p. 178.

forms and spaces. In particular, the Emperor encouraged technically advanced, centrally planned churches with bold cupola constructions without entirely abandoning the shape of the basilica which provided interior processional space. This reliance on proven models in combination with daring technical innovations led to hybrid forms as witnessed by Hagia Sophia and Hagia Eirene, both still standing. The building program seems to represent a desire to monumentalise and embellish Constantinople as the second Rome, after the fall of the first. Further, it served as visual reminder of the position of Orthodox Christianity as preferred imperial state religion after the dogmatic struggles of previous centuries. In true Roman spirit, Justinian positioned himself as a great ruler and a worthy successor of Augustus and Constantine. In fact, he even emulated King Solomon himself in a visually compelling manner through the impressive buildings being erected all over the city. The churches in themselves reminded the citizens of the Emperors munificence and became signs of imperial power13 connecting it with the divine, offering spiritual protection as many of them encircled the city.14 Judging by contemporary accounts and the evidence of architecture, an important aspect of new church structures appears to have been a desire to open up and maximise the flow of light, best exemplified by Hagia Sophia. 15 When standing in the middle of this huge church, the flooding light in
Webb, Ruth, The aesthetics of Sacred Space: Narrative, Metaphor, and Motion in Ekphraseis of Church Buildings, Dumbarton Oaks Papers vol. 53, 1999, p. 66. 14 Baldovin (1987), p. 180. 15 Procopios discusses the light in Hagia Sophia in his description of the church in Buildings. Later, Paolos Silentiaros dwells both on the effects of daylight as well as of the abundance of artificial lighting in the evening in Hagia Sophia in the translations of Mango, Cyril, The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312-1453: Sources and Documents, Medieval Academy Reprints for Teaching 16, (University of Toronto Press: Toronto 1986), pp. 80-90.
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conjunction with the placement and design of the central load bearing pillars offers the spectator the illusion of dissolving walls and ceilings. 16 Since the latter was covered by gold ground mosaic the scintillating and reflecting character must have contributed to further that impression to the contemporary eye.17 Liz James has noted concerning icons that light was a means of expressing virtue and holiness both in physical art and in writing.18 Such a conviction seems to have saturated also Hagia Sophia; evident through the glittering mosaics and numerous windows of the interior, and the extensive grounds surrounding the exterior which according to Paolos Silentiarios was surrounded by open courts with the main objective that it may appear to be bathed all round by the bright light of day.19 Light is of course necessary for improved visibility as well. Not surprisingly, light, truth and viewing was strongly connected in the Byzantine mind, a topic we will return to later. Apart from light, accessibility was another prominent feature of the churches of Constantinople, eventhough a certain degree of seclusion was signalled through the intervening porticoes, porches, fore-courts and narthexes. A succession of ritual transition spaces was thus created where the participant was offered the chance to prepare him/herself before encountering the most holy. These spaces provide checkpoints on a gradual journey from a secular to a sacred environment which was percieved as a symbolic image of heaven. The procession of the station liturgy
Other well-lit churches are the still extant Hagia Eirene and the destroyed Church of the Holy Apostles which plenty of windows, 16 Although the first dome collapsed due to an earthquake two decades after its completion was slightly shallower it was still equipped with windows according to Procopius, letting in light in much the same way. See Taylor, Rabun, A Literary and Structural Analysis of the First Dome on Justinians Hagia Sophia, Constantinople, The Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, vol. 55, no 1, March 1996, pp. 66-78. 17 As described by Procopius 18 James (2003), p. 227. 19 Quoted from Mango (1986), p. 85

offered an immaterial spiritual road leading to the interior of a church, as an accompaniment to the physical one offered by the streets as the celebration of Eucharist was liturgically initiated in the city. The decorative elements of the inner architecture strongly resemble outdoor architecture which makes the vast space appear like a covered square. The large number of doors in Hagia Sophia, originally offering access to the city and its streets, further strengthens this impression.20 Taken in conjunction with the well-lit interior, the practice of station liturgy and the very shape of the porticoed urban thoroughfares, it would seem that the churches and their nearest vicinity were not conceived of as closed enclaves but as integrated extensions of public processional space. I would propose that they were designed to spatially interact with colonnaded civic public spaces and the porticoed streets acting as intermediaries, the latter pulling together individual buildings and uniting them as Marlia Mundell Mango has observed.21 Thus, urban space was not created by separate selfcontained units but rather woven together by interdependent physical components stimulated by the processions of the station liturgy which in its turn appealed visually. Since no liturgical handbooks have been preserved from earlier than the 10th century, scholars have reconstructed various parts of the Liturgy of the Eucharist as well as station liturgy by triangulating different textual sources as chronicles, homilies, mystagogic commentaries, a later typikon and so forth. 22 The
This was by all means not only the case with Hagia Sophia, but also other churches according to Mathews (1971). This means they were well-integrated in the urban environment. Cfp Baldovin (1987), p. 178: It certainly was equipped for all kinds of movement with entrances on every side as well as exterior stairwells and interior staircases. 21 Mango, Marlia Mundell, The Porticoed Street at Constantinople, (Ed. Nevra Necipoglu), Byzantine Constantinople: Monuments, Topography and Everyday Life (Brill: Leiden-Boston-Kln 2001), p 30. The street porticoes were all colonnaded at this time, for a description see pp. 40-46. The various colonnaded public squares are described on pp. 33-40. According to Mango, Marlia Mundell, The Commercial Map of Constantinople, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, vol. 54 (2000), p. 196, Constantinople boasted fifty-two porticoes already in the 5th century according to the Notitia Urbis Constantinopolitanae in 425. 22 See Baldovin (1982), pp. 414-450 or Baldovin (1987) p. 181-204; Taft (1992), pp. 28-38; Taft, Robert, Some Notes on the Bema in the East and West Syrian Traditions, Liturgy in Byzantium and Beyond,(Variorum: Aldershot 1995), pp. 45-75, Wybrew; Hugh, The Orthodox Liturgy: The Development of the Eucharistic Liturgy in the Byzantine Rite (London: 1996), p. 67-103, Mathews (1971), pp. 105-177, Mainstone (1988), p. 219-287 and Ousterhout, Robert, The Holy Space: Architecture and Liturgy, Heaven on Earth: Art and the Church in Byzantium, Ed. Linda Safran, (The Pennsylvania University Press: University Park Pa 1998), pp. 81-87.
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reconstruction efforts have been directed towards the spectacular Constantinopolitan cathedral liturgy which was entwined with the public life of court and citizenry, and has been assumed to have influenced other liturgies. A 10th century copy23 of the 9th century Menologion of Basileios II is illustrated with pictures showing some of the various stages of the liturgy in keeping with textual sources and architectural remains. Justinians contemporary chronicler Procopios made a thorough description of Hagia Sophia in Buildings, as did Paolos Silentiaros and several others. From their ekphraseis may be gleaned additional information both on the physical appearance of the church as well as their experience of it.24 In order to make this discussion less abstract, and more tangible, I will now continue with an ekphrasis of my own with an extrapolated account of the presumed interaction between station liturgy, urban landscape, mass liturgy and the interior of Hagia Sophia as it may have appeared during the period discussed.
The main streets would have looked like the porticoed cardo of ancient Gerasa seen here.

Imagine yourself a citizen of Constantinople on an important feast day as the rededication of Hagia Sophia.25 Before the break of dawn you leave your home to depart to the starting point of the procession which may be one of the churches or the forum. Your neighbours are hurrying alongside you. More and more people gather in the streets and the atmosphere is redolent with excitement; a rumour is spreading that the emperor himself will present. Some people are chatting; others have taken out their prayer beads to
Biblioteca Apostolica Vaticana, gr. 1613. Translations may be found in Mango (1986) of a selection of descriptions by Procopius (pp. 72-78), Evagrios (pp. 79-80), and Paulos Silentiarios (pp. 80-96). 25 Baldovin (1987), p. 188.
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begin their spiritual preparation. You reach the meeting point and then wait while the people assemble. Finally, the patriarch arrives and then the emperor. The patriarch offers a prayer, an antiphonal psalm is sung and everyone joins in the response. The two dignitaries initiate the procession followed by clergy carrying the crucifix, the gospel book and swinging sensers spreading wafts of aromatic incense. People fall in behind them. The procession moves down one of the porticoed streets to the next large open area, where the crowd stops. Once more, hymns and antiphonal psalms are sung; litanies to the saints are offered. The procession continues. The mesmerising sound of antiphonal psalms and prayers serve to heighten the sensibilities of the participants. Socially, the station liturgy allows people to mingle irrespective of their civic standing apart from the dignitaries that lead the procession. Eventually, the goal is reached, the Great Church itself where more proper social ordering will take place. The emperor enters the church in company with the patriarch followed by the clergy. After an entrance rite in the narthex, the emperor takes his place near the chancel in a cordoned off area, the metatorion, while the lay people disperse across the church to their assigned places. In politics, as well as theology, the cosmological idea of a universal holy order, called taxis in Greek, also structured society hierarchically. Taxis was upheld and made visible inside the church by people gathering into groups according to social standing where they remained in spatial zones reserved for them: emperor and patriarch, clergy and laity, men and women, baptised and non-baptised, most likely prosperous and poor, maybe even married and unmarried. The members of the congregation had a place reflecting his/her social rank which microcosmically corresponded with the macrcosmos of taxis. Deviation would have been threatened cosmic order itself. This social ordering by taxis may be seen as an example of seductive power mediation leading to the participants surrendering their self-will for the presumed greater good of Constantinople and

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themselves.26 The stone floor of Hagia Sophia has strips in divergent colours. They have been interpreted as interior markers of stations, where the clerical procession would have halted periodically on its way in for further singing and praying. They may also have signified the social structuring of the congregation, delimiting separate zones as perhaps hinted at by a passage in the medieval Narratio de S. Sophia s.27 While the laity found their respective places in the church, the patriarch and the clergy continued the procession. A walkway physically defined by a marble barrier, the so called solea, reached from the chancel to the pulpit and a little way beyond. It split and made a detour on each side of the pulpit which was aligned west to east; the ambo, that is the reading pulpit, was likewise made of marble with steps leading up one side and down the other. This means the ambo was structured as a walkway; in the previously mentioned Menologion one illustration shows a procession crossing a similar ambo in the way suggested here. The ambo of Hagia Sophia was in fact large enough to allow boy choristers standing undetected underneath; as people entered they would be welcomed by an angelic hymn which would seem to come out of nowhere.
Plan of Hagia Sophia with layout of solea, ambo, bema, altar and synthronon reconstructed

Perhaps the patriarch, the carrier of the crucifix, the carrier of the gospel and other dignitaries went by way of the ambo as in the Menologion,
Dovey, Kim, Framing places: Mediating Power in Built Form, (Routledge: London 2001), p. 20 This source quoted in Mango (1993), p. 101 claim that penitents were ordered by Justinian to stand on these stone strips. This sounds extraordinary, but could be a slight misunderstanding of their actual function as suggested here.
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while the lesser clergy followed the solea to join those worthy of passing over the ambo further on. The procession continued into the sanctuary which was slightly raised on a platform, the so-called bema, which projected into the nave and was surrounded by a barrier, the templon. At this time no iconostasis prevented the people from viewing the action in the sanctuary since the icons were placed on top of the architrave of the templonbarrier. The gospel was enthroned on the altar and the clergy took up their seats on the stepped silver-clad synthronon in the apse, with the patriarch on the seventh topmost step in the middle. The readers would procession back to the pulpit down the solea. The gospel carrier would presumably raise the gospel book high in the air while standing at the top before reading the text, as is customary to this day. Homilies were rare, but were delivered by the bishop from his throne in the apse. After intercessions, the catecumens and penitents would leave the church. The liturgy of the Eucharist was inaugurated by another procession. Deacons would leave the chancel to fetch the bread and wine and carry them in procession in a similar fashion as before over the ambo, along the solea, down to the chancel. Unlike the orthodox church of today, the Eucharistic ritual would be carried out mostly in full view. The communion would take place along the barriers of the chancel, perhaps also along the solea considering the large number of communicants. After the final blessing, people would leave the church. There is no doubt that visibility, or visuality, is a key word to characterise the spectacular liturgy of the 6-7th centuries. Witnessing was a profound part of the experience of celebrating Holy Mass in Constantinople, from the more loosely organised popular station liturgy in the streets, to the highly structured and stratified liturgy inside the church. The design of space, furnishing, decoration and liturgy was intended to support and emphasise a high level of visibility. The liturgy became a strong sensuous and emotional experience, built up step by step from the streets to the church.

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The usage of the different furnishings contributed to promote the visual experience. The synthronon was designed for visibility, the congregation saw the patriarch and clergy, and vice versa. At the same time the synthronon and the barriered sanctuary on its bema emphasised a hierarchical difference between its occupants and everyone else. It made ecclesiastical leadership apparent, emphasising the teaching authority of the patriarch, but also differentiating the clergy by how far they were removed from the patriarch. Power relationship within that distinguished group, as well as between them and the congregation, and within the congregation was made clear in a pedagogical way. By being placed high the bishop was raised above the crowd and able to practice symbolic disciplinary control through his position of surveillance.28 The dignity of the altar was visually enhanced by the ciborium which originally must have had a practical function preventing dust and particles from falling down. A similar practical but later ossified function was filled by the nowadays purely ceremonial fans in the Armenian mass. According to Procopios the altar was originally made of gold, later covered by gold sheathing, and as in the mosaic the brightness of this metal and that of other features in the interior sheathed in silver were of mystical divine significance and signs of transcendent truth.29 The sanctuary barrier had both a practical and a symbolical function by physically separating and setting aside a specific area as more holy than the rest, being accessible only to clerical elite. The development of this barrier makes this double function clear. In its earliest form it was very low and built by waist high stone panels, ensuring that the Eucharist could be celebrated without the clergy being crushed by participants flocking round the altar. Later on, higher columns and an architrave were added to the barrier, and images began to be placed on top of it. Further on, curtains were introduced; controlling visibility, and finally the

Dovey (2001), p.19. See James (2003), p. 227 who stresses the importance of the media of Byzantine art conveying light, brightness, and glitter.
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iconostasis came to prohibit visibility, when that was not considered an important element of liturgy any more. Similarly, the solea seems to have had a mundane function to begin with, creating a walkway for the clergy as an extension of the chancel barrier. But the solea also became an important ritual device in that it maintained the clerical procession, when the popular procession broke up, physically and visually separating the clergy from the laity. Even the ambo became a ritual instrument and not only an acoustic device to improve the quality of readings. Certain objects were exalted symbolically by being displayed from the top of the ambo, as for instance the gospel. The later public enthronement on the altar of the gospel clarified that it not only represented the Written Word of God, but the Living Word of God, that is Christ. Thus, it was not just a book that had been held aloft by the bearer on the ambo, but the Saviour himself. As a sign of divine presence the gospel further legitimised the teaching of the patriarch on the synthronon. This created a circular reenforcement of symbolical implications. The liturgy of the hours, the station liturgies and the liturgy of Eucharist in Constantinople was entwined with each other and embedded in everyday life. On the one hand, they gave a sacramental dimension to the everyday existence of ordinary citizens, connecting earth and heaven. On the other hand, the liturgy had a distinctly urban character and was joined with the secular ritual of the imperial court and therefore also served as a mediator of political power.30 Every citizen, from the poor spending the nights in porticoes to the emperor, could take part in this public ritual. At the same time the ritual would uphold and reafirm the civic and ecclesiastical ranking of every individual by their active participation. The act of viewing worked as weve seen on many levels; it not only served to connect the participant with the divine in a mystical fashion, but also to reenforce ecclesial and civic power as well as social order. It was The ruling orders non-stop discourse

30

Baldovin (1987), p. 211.

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about itself. 31 The spectacle of byzantine worship was no doubt a materialized worldview in the Debordian sense, working as a means of unification 32 on the surface while working towards social separation according to the perceived universal order (taxis).33 Mobility characterised the joined liturgies, which were dramatic, extrovert and inclusive in character unlike later on, when the station liturgy became ever more limited in scope34 and the liturgy of the Eucharist was hidden behind the iconostasis, promoting introversion and exclusivity. The early liturgies in Constantinople developed interactively with the urban fabric and with distinct buildings within it. The combined liturgies came thus to influence strongly the architecural conception and experience of Hagia Sophia and other churches, not as separate, and closed off environments in the urban fabric, but in effect as dynamic, interconnected parts of it. Visuality and spatiality interacted in equal measures in the sacralisation of the city. The carrying idea of the Justinian time seems to have been to both see, that is witness, and also being seen, by taking part in a grand spectacle, where one would be both participant and spectator at the same time.35 Sight held a position of honor among the senses in Byzantium: it was through sight that truth was apprehended. //Sight was the most reliable and efficacious of the senses, the one priviliged by God.36 The windows, the scintillating mosaics, the oil lamps and chandeliers lit at night, and the reflecting metal sheathing in the interior served to increase light levels, and thereby visibilty, while emphazising the metaphyscal meaning of the church as the House of God. This emphasis on visuality in liturgy, church architecture, art and furnishing was influenced by theological ideas where the basic assumption was that visual representation was clearer and more distinct than oral
Debord, Guy, The Society of Spectacle, transl. Ken Knabb (Rebel Press: London, no publishing year stated), p.12, paragraph 23. Debords definitions of spectacle is strongly connected to modernity and capitalism, which limits its usefulness as a theoretical tool in this analysis beyond was is commented on above. 32 Debord, p. 7, paragraph 3. 33 Debord, Guy, p. 10, paragraph 14 and p. 16-17, paragraph 29. 34 Baldovin (1987), p. 212-214 who ascribes the diminishing importance to the 7th-10th centuries, see also Berger (2001), p. 83. 35 Baldovin (1987), p. 211: The liturgy in the city was the liturgy of the city. 36 James (2003), p. 228.
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communication.37 Thus, the validity of the oral parts of the liturgy was confirmed and enhanced by visually appealing rituals of legitimation.38 The opening question of this paper whether visual experience was a significant component in Byzantine liturgy in its urban and architectural setting may be answered in the affirmative. Visuality sits at the centre of the byzantine spectacle of worship in conjunction with a specific spatial and social practice. Viewing and being viewed was instrumental for the creation of unity, collective meaning and social order through combined civic and religious ritual. Illustrations
1. Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, exterior, photo by the author, 2002. (p. 1) 2. Byzantine Constantinople, city layout reconstruction, Wikimedia Commons, DeliDumrul (p. 4) 3. Hagia Eirene, longitudinal section, Wikimedia Commons, Alexander van Millingen, Byzantine Churches in Constantinople, 1912 (p. 5) 4. Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, cupola interior, photo by the author, 2002 (p. 6) 5. Hagia Sophia, Istanbul, interior, photo by the author, 2002 (p. 7) 6. Gerasa (present-day Jerash), Jordania, street portico, photo by the author, 2005 (p. 9) 7. Hagia Sophia, groundplan, scanned by the author from Cyril Mango, The Art of the Byzantine Empire 312-1453: Sources and Documents, 1993 (p. 11)

References
Baldovin, John Francis SJ, The Urban Character of Christian Worship in Jerusalem, Rome, and Constantinople from the Fourth to the Tenth Centuries, Diss 1982 Baldovin, John Francis SJ, The Urban Character of Christian Worship: The Origins Development and Meaning of Stational Liturgy, Orientalia Christiana Analecta (Pont. Institutum Studiorum Orientalium: Roma 1987) Berger, Albrecht Imperial and Ecclesiastical Processions in Constantinople, (Ed. Nevra Necipoglu), Byzantine Constantinople: Monuments, Topography and Everyday Life (Brill: Leiden-Boston-Kln 2001) Berger, Albrect, Streets and Public Spaces in Constantinople, Dumbarton Oaks Papers, vol. 54, 2000, pp. 161-172

37 38

Ibid. Dovey (2001), p.12

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