# The Greek and Eastern Churches/Part 1/Division 2/Chapter 2

CHAPTER II
BYZANTINE ART
The characteristics of Church life at this period are quite as clearly impressed upon its art as upon its literature. By studying the controversial writings of the time we may be able to gain some insight into the intellectual conditions of bishops and other leading theologians; but when we look at the churches, with their paintings and mosaics, many of which are still extant, or come to imagine what they are and were by means of plans, photographs, and descriptions, we are really brought much nearer to the actual lives of the men and women who constituted the mass of Christendom in these days of the Greek Empire. The iconoclastic controversy which broke out early in the eighth century has forced the attention of historians to one phase of this subject, and its importance cannot be weighed or its significance appreciated till we have before our minds' eye a vivid conception of the scenes amid which it moved. But more than that, we need to have some idea of the large place occupied by art in the Eastern Church in order to understand the life and character of the people who composed it. Dean Stanley pointed out that what music ​is in the Western Church, pictures are in the Eastern. They express the colour, the emotion, even the passion of religion.
In considering this subject we will look first at the architecture of the churches, and then consider the pictorial art with which their walls were clothed.
Byzantine architecture is the only style of building that can be correctly denominated Christian architecture. We are accustomed to assign that title to the Gothic order; but neither its area, its age, nor its origin justify us in doing so. Our English cathedrals and the great churches of France are sometimes described as embodiments of the Christian idea, with its far-reaching mystery and its soaring aspiration. Those forests of clustered pillars and long vaulted aisles, like avenues in stone, the fine pointed arches, the "storied windows richly dight," the towers and spires and pinnacles, the quiet side-chapels, the sheltered cloisters—all contrast strongly with the ordered symmetry and clear daylight beauty of the self-contained, perfect Greek temples. Accordingly we have come to take them as expressive of the essential difference between the spirit of Christianity and the spirit of classical paganism. To be more accurate, we should say that this Gothic, as rich in colour when it was first produced as it was elaborate in form, really represents only the mediæval mind and life of north-west Europe. It is Anglo-Saxon and Frankish. We meet with little of it in southern Europe. In Italy the Roman and Romanesque styles persisted till they blossomed into the Renaiscent. We have Gothic architecture in northern Italy, in Tuscany, and to a small extent even in Rome, but only as an exotic, a temporary, alien visitor. Its most glorious product, Giotto's Campanile at Florence, that work of jewellery in architecture, with its straight lines and right angles, and its horizontal summit, has many traces of the persistence of the Romanesque about it. Moreover, it must be admittted that on the whole St. Paolo outside the city of Rome represents more truly the earlier period of the Christian architecture of south Europe and St. Peter's the later.
​Then, if we turn to the measurement of time, the limited range of the Gothic art will be equally apparent. It rose in the twelfth century and it declined in the sixteenth; it did not flourish in full vigour for more than three or four hundred years. Even in the north it was preceded by the Romanesque, especially in the type commonly called Norman, and it was followed by Renaiscent. In England the great Durham nave and many another cathedral and church structure of the twelfth century and earlier bear witness against the unique claim of the pointed arch to represent antiquity, and St. Paul's Cathedral is the plainest proof of its transience. Christianity is nearly two thousand years old; the reign of Gothic architecture lasted less than one-fifth of this time.
The third point concerns the question of origin. Fanciful theories about the Gothic symbolism must give place to sober conceptions of a very different kind when we trace the early English and the corresponding Continental styles to their origins. Then it is seen that the pointed arch did not arise from a contemplation of the effect produced by the crossing of round arches in mural decoration—as at Norwich and many other places. Structurally, it came from the desire to improve on the Roman barrel-shaped vault—to strengthen it by raising its centre, so as to adapt it to the sloping roof by bringing the top of the vault nearer to the ridge of the roof, and at the same time to admit of the adjustment of transverse vaulting for transepts, chapels, and windows. The pointed window naturally followed the pointed vault above it. No doubt northern requirements helped the evolution of certain Gothic features. The steep roof would be useful for throwing off snow; the large window would be good for light in a dull and cloudy climate. This would admit of tracery, and when stained glass was introduced it would be desirable for it to become larger still. Then in turn the great windows, by weakening the walls, would concentrate the weight and thrust on what remained so as to necessitate the support ​of buttresses, considered by some to be the essential note of Gothic architecture, its one invariably characteristic feature. Thus we have the system of balance, thrust and counter-thrust, and ultimately the skilful adjustment of points of support and resistance to the total elimination of constructive walls, as at Sainte Chapelle in Paris, at Beauvais, and at Amiens. All this no doubt is a western and northern development taking place within Christendom. Still it is not exclusively religious architecture. We have some of the finest specimens of Gothic in the cloth halls and town halls of Ypres and Bruges, Louvain and Brussels. The pointed arch is an importation from the East, where it was used centuries before it appeared in the West. There, however, it was not Christian in origin or usage, but Saracenic. It is no mere coincidence, therefore, that it was adopted in Western Europe just after the Crusades, which had reopened communication with the East. At the same time this architecture was being directly developed by the Mohammedan invaders of Sicily and by the Moors in Spain.
Now let us turn to Byzantine architecture. This has dominated Eastern Christendom from the sixth century to our own age. For fourteen hundred years it has been the one system followed by the Oriental half of Christendom. From the first it was conterminous with the Byzantine Empire, and therefore it has extended as far as Ravenna in Italy, the capital of the Exarchate, and given us one of its most magnificent products in St. Mark's at Venice. Further, this architecture is not only spread over a much larger area and found to be flourishing for a much longer period than the Gothic; unlike that system, it can claim a purely Christian origin. It was developed on Christian soil and to serve Christian purposes. From the first it was essentially Church architecture. It is the one style of building that has been evolved for the express purpose of meeting the requirements of Christian worship as this is practised in the Greek Church. Gothic, as illustrated ​in our cathedrals, is a northern adaptation of ideas, in themselves independent of the Church, to the requirements of mediæval Catholicism north of the Alps; Byzantine is the one style of architecture that can claim to be ecclesiastical both in its origin and in its intention.
Previous to the development of the Byzantine style, the church building was an adaptation of Roman architecture to Christian uses. At first meetings were held in rooms of houses, in a portico of the Jerusalem Temple, perhaps in hired halls. The worship in the catacombs was organised simply because there the brethren could assemble at the tombs of the martyrs. Justin Martyr declares that the Christians are not dependent on sacred places for their meetings, as they can worship anywhere. Still, as the numbers grew it became necessary to have buildings of sufficient size to hold large congregations. At the same time the Church began to acquire property in buildings. We come across an instance of this during the reign of Alexander Severus (a.d. 230) in Rome, and again under Aurelian at Antioch (a.d. 270–275), when the emperor was appealed to by the orthodox section of the Church to decide their right to take possession of the building at Antioch which Paul of Samosata had retained in defiance of deposition by a council, so long as he had enjoyed the patronage of Queen Zenobia. Aurelian granted it to those "with whom the Christian bishops of Italy and Rome were in correspondence." By this time there must have been many important church buildings. The Diocletian persecution began with the destruction of the great church at Nicodemia, in accordance with an imperial edict for the general demolition of churches. With the time of Constantine we come to the great age of church building, and now much more magnificent structures appear than those of the period before the ​imperial recognition of Christianity. The emperor himself was foremost in promoting the work, especially in his new city of Constantinople, but also at Jerusalem and Bethlehem.
The model for this church architecture was not the pagan temple, which was manifestly unsuitable for the purposes of public worship. The temple was the home of a god, not a place of assembly. Here priests sacrificed, and worshippers prayed, made vows, brought votive offerings. There were special festivals, and some temples were the scenes of the celebration of mysteries. None of these functions required the large assembly hall needed by a Christian congregation. Accordingly, although in a few cases, as with the Pantheon at Rome, a pagan temple came to be consecrated as a Christian Church, the Christians did not take the temple as the model for their place of worship. They found this in the basilica, or Hall of Justice, the Roman law court. In consequence the large churches have come to be called "basilicas." Eusebius gives us the earliest description of such a church in his account of the new building at Tyre, at the dedication of which an Arian council was summoned. It stood in a great open space enclosed by a wall, and was approached through a magnificent portico, which led into a quadrangular atrium, surrounded with interior porticoes, and having a fountain in the centre for washing the hands and feet, as we see now at Mohammedan mosques; beyond the atrium was the basilica proper, a building roofed with cedar wood and having side aisles and galleries. There were chairs for the bishop and his clergy round about the altar at the end of the church, fenced off from the rest of the nave with lattice work. The Apostolical Constitutions knows of no such separation between the clergy and the laity, showing that this significant barrier must have been quite a recent innovation, for our present redaction of that work cannot be earlier than the fourth century. Yet we read in ​it the following directions for the arrangement of a church:—
"And first, let the building be long, with its head to the east, with its vestries on both sides at the east end; and so it will be like a ship. In the middle let the bishop's chair be placed, and on each side of him let the presbytery sit down; and let the deacons stand near at band, in close and small girt garments, for they are like the mariners and managers of the ship: with regard to these, let the laity sit on the other side, with all quietness and good order. And let the women sit by themselves, they also keeping silence. In the middle let the reader stand upon some high place."
This may be taken as the method followed down to the fourth century. The separation of the clergy from the laity by a screen tended to assimilate the Eucharist still more to the pagan mysteries, and to make it a sacrifice offered by the priest rather than a meal, participation in which by the people is its principal function. Although the Western Church adopted the full sacrificial idea it did not screen off the clergy as that was done in the Eastern Churches; it was content with a slight railing, leaving the officiating minister full in view. Here we have one of the most striking differences between Eastern and Western Churches.
From the time of Constantine to the age of Justinian the Roman style of basilica prevailed. In the sixth century the new order which we know as Byzantine appears, and the rise of it synchronises with the great impulse to church building that was given by the latter emperor. This development may be attributed in part to the influence of Persian architecture on the Greek branch of the empire. But although the stimulus came from the Eastern neighbour, the system itself was a legitimate development of the preceding Roman style. That was not ​an original style, nor was it true to any central idea. It was mainly a combination of the Roman arch with the Greek column and architrave. But the combination was really superfluous, for structurally the arch dispensed with the architrave. Accordingly the columns and architraves were relegated to the surface of the walls for decorative purposes. They were mere survivals, and Byzantine architecture dispensed with them altogether as superfluities, being content to have plainer exteriors, while the whole attention of the decorator was devoted to the elaborate adornment of the interior with gold, mosaic, and mural painting.
The Romans invented the dome and left the most magnificent specimen of that daring structure in the Pantheon; but they did not develop this original idea, seeing that they could only apply it to round buildings. Since they required length in their basilica they made use of the arch for its roof, simply prolonging this in the form of a barrel. Now the primary characteristic of Byzantine architecture is its development of the method of roofing with domes. The most perfect specimen of this work is the great church of St. Sophia at Constantinople, which it was the pride of Justinian to have built. Two earlier churches had been burnt—Constantine's church in a.d. 404, at the time of Chrysostom, and its successor in a.d. 532. Strictly speaking, Justinian's St. Sophia—still standing and now used as a mosque—is not typical Byzantine architecture. It is quite unique. Nothing of the kind had preceded it; it was never successfully imitated. Its famous architect, Anthemius, has the proud distinction of having produced a work without peer or parallel in all the ages of building. "St. Sophia," says M. Bayet, "has the double advantage of marking the advent of a new style and reaching at the same time such proportions as have never been surpassed in the East." The most essential trait of this invention and its crowning ​glory is the adaptation of the dome, which hitherto had only appeared on round buildings, to a rectangular building by means of a series of lesser domes filling up the angle spaces and mounting one above another, till the great central dome soars over all, and the whole cluster looked at from beneath has the effect of cavernous vaults in a vastness of lofty space. The Byzantine architecture which followed also adapted the dome to rectilineal lines, sometimes by having the building beneath it octagonal, or by means of other devices, but never with any approach to the glory of St. Sophia.
While this structural triumph of genius is the chief peculiarity of St. Sophia, another feature of Justinian's basilica, being more easily imitated, has become a marked characteristic of Byzantine architecture. This is its wealth of decorative splendour. In the decoration of St. Sophia the richest materials—gold, silver, ivory, precious stones—were used with incredible prodigality. The great dome was constructed with white tiles from Rhodes, one-fifth the weight of ordinary tiles. Soon after it had been completed it was thrown down by an earthquake. It was rebuilt more strongly, and it has stood through nearly fourteen centuries till our own time. The ambo placed near the centre, made of most beautiful marbles and surmounted with a dome and cross of gold, consumed one year's Egyptian revenue. The choir was separated from the nave by a solid silver screen. The altar was of gold set with jewels beneath a gold dome and cross sustained by four silver columns. The interior surfaces of domes and walls were completely covered with immense mosaics, consisting of majestic figures, on a ground in some places of gold, in others of a deep blue colour; some of these however were later than the time of Justinian. At night, when the whole building was lit up with the scattered radiance of 6,000 candelabras, the effect must have been superb. Justinian appears to have been more proud of his basilica at Constantinople than of the conquests of his great general Belisarius, ​which gave him back for a time the best part of the lost western half of the empire, or the codification of Roman law with which his name has become most familiarly associated in later history. Truth will not allow us to think that this work was executed solely for the glory of God. Very significant of the spirit in which all its splendour was produced is Justinian's famous explanation in comtemplation of it: "I have beaten thee, Solomon."
While in its peculiar glory of construction St. Sophia was never followed by subsequent builders, there is a church at Salonica that appears to be an imitation of it, and from the period of Justinian the Latin basilica form declines and we have churches with domes, plain exterior walls, and rich interior decoration of gold 'surfaces, mosaics, frescoes, and elaborate capitals—the best known of which is St. Mark's at Venice. Earlier Byzantine work is illustrated in the West at Ravenna and in Sicily. It is the prevalent style of Greek church architecture.
Manuscripts now began to imitate the architectural decorative style. The Laurentian monastery at Florence contains a Syriac MS. executed as early as a.d. 586, with beautiful Byzantine decorations on nearly every page.
At the same time sculpture declined. There were statues of emperors and bas-reliefs of religious scenes in the earlier period, but sculpture was rarely if ever used in the East for statues of Christ, the Virgin, or saints. This is a point in which the Eastern Church differs from the Western, where statuary is a marked feature of church decoration and comes into close connection with worship. There are no statues in Eastern churches. The iconoclastic dispute to which our attention will next be directed, though commonly described as concerned with "image worship," refers to pictures, the only kind of images worshipped in the Greek part of Christendom. There never was any Church decree to forbid the use of solid images. It appears to have been by a sort of tacit ​understanding and mutual consent that they were ruled out. At first the horror of pagan idolatry was sufficient to preclude Christian idolatry. Subsequently, no doubt, the fierce Mohammedan war on idols would keep the Eastern Christians from following the example of their Western brethren for very shame. When the image worshippers were opposed by the Iconoclasts on the ground of idolatry, they could better defend their pictures than they could have defended statues which would have been very like the pagan idols. Sculpture was now only used for bas-reliefs on ambos and for other architectural decorative purposes. At Ravenna the human figure is neglected, and we have lambs, doves, peacocks, vases of water, monograms, crosses. A seventh century work at Venice represents the apostles as twelve lambs.
The religious veneration given to pictures never corresponds to their artistic merits. Some of the ugliest paintings have received the highest honours owing to their antiquity, their legendary origin, or the miraculous powers with which they have been credited. In the church of St. Sylvester at Rome there is the portrait of Christ said to have been sent to Abgarus of Edessa, given to the church of St. Sophia at Constantinople, and thence transferred to its present resting-place. Among the relics at the Vatican is the portrait, according to the legend, impressed on the handkerchief which St. Veronica lent to the Saviour on His way to the Cross. These two most precious of all pictures regarded from the standpoint of the adoring worshipper, do not come into the region of Christian art. They belong to the fantastic category of relics. The earliest Christian art of which we have remains in the catacombs is entirely after the model of contemporary Greek and Roman painting. Its subjects are chiefly Biblical or allegorical Daniel in the Lion's Den, the Good Shepherd, etc; and its spirit is cheerful. During the days of persecution the Christians did not take pleasure in the contemplation of torture; nor did they then represent the ascetic type of face. Pictures of the Crucifixion come later, and so do representations of fasting ​saints and suffering martyrs. The serene, youthful appearance of Jesus, sometimes symbolised by Orpheus, or modelled on the type of Apollo, gives place in the Byzantine period to the exalted Christ, the King on His throne, glorious, majestic, awful to approach. The walls of Byzantine churches were decorated in fresco or mosaic with illustrations of Old and New Testament history. The purpose of this was educational, in order that, as St. Nilus said, "Those who could not read the Scriptures could learn from the pictures the good actions of those who have served God faithfully." For the same reason scenes of martyrdom, which the early Christians had avoided, were now rendered with brutal realism. Originally the object in view was as innocent as our modern illustrated Bibles, school-room pictures, and mission-hall lantern exhibitions. Then first the picture of Christ was worshipped, then pictures of the Virgin and of saints came in for similar adoration,
Although the iconoclastic dispute led to an immense destruction of pictures, it does not seem probable that many valuable works of art, were lost to the world in this way. But the victory of the image worshippers gave a great impulse to the arts of painting and mosaic work which was followed by a veritable renaissance in the Greek Church. Here, then, we come upon one of the points at which it is incumbent upon us to free our minds from) the narrowness of Western prepossessions if we would understand the very different course of Church history in the East. We are accustomed to regard the period between the short, brilliant epoch of Charles the Great and Alcuin on the Continent and King Alfred and Bede in England on the one hand, and the great revival under St. Bernard, with the subsequent rise of scholasticism and Gothic architecture on the other, as containing emphatically "the dark ages." No doubt the lamp of learning was kept alive by the monks even during this gloomy period; but the flame did little more than shed a mild radiance through the dim cloisters. Any MS. decoration of this period is Byzantine ​in character. Western art was dead. But at this very time art was reviving in the East and attaining to a life and a freedom which it had never reached before. It might have advanced still further, had not the Crusades, which promised deliverance for the holy sites of the East from the desecration of the infidel, brought ruin and misery to the Greek Christians.
* ↑ e.g. Bond, Gothic Architecture.
* ↑ e.g. Acts xix. 9—but this was for public discussion, not for Church worship.
* ↑ Martyrdom of Justin and Others, 2.
* ↑ Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. vii. 27–30.
* ↑ Ibid. viii. 2.
* ↑ πρόπυλον.
* ↑ αἴθριον.
* ↑ βασίλειος οἶκος.
* ↑ θρόνοι.
* ↑ Eusebius, Hist. Eccl. x. 4.
* ↑ ναός = nave.
* ↑ Apost. Const. ii. 57.
* ↑ Fergusson regards Byzantine architecture as a combination of Roman and Sasanian. See Handbook of Architecture, p. 945.
* ↑ L'Art Byzantine, p. 41. Cf. L. M. Phillips, "Santa Sophia" in Contemporary Review, No. 493, pp. 55-76.
* ↑ Νενίκηκα σε Σολομών.