Risle-i Mi'mriyye: An Early Seventeenth-Century Ottoman Treatise on Architecture by

Ca'fer Efendi; Howard Crane

Review by: Glru Necipolu
Journal of the Society of Architectural Historians, Vol. 49, No. 2 (Jun., 1990), pp. 210-213
Published by: University of California Press on behalf of the Society of Architectural Historians
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All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
210
JSAH, XLIX:2, JUNE
1990 210
JSAH, XLIX:2, JUNE
1990
the
systematic plans
of Le
Muet,
Du Cerceau's
designs
are a
collection of citations and
collages, seeking diversity
and cre-
ating
models that could be recombined in countless
ways.
Bou-
don's
premises
are best
conveyed
in the
plates depicting
the 50
ground plans
of Book
I,
the roof
plans,
and the 38
plans
of
Book III.
Models,
including perspective
views,
are
given
too.
Looking
at the formal
studies,
the road to Durand's Precis
of 1802 seems
direct;
nor are the latter's
goals
of
efficiency
and
economy
unrelated.
Around the turn of the 17th
century,
architectural
theory
was
more
frequently conveyed by image
than
by
word. Albums of
drawings permitted
clients to choose from a host of architectural
components-details
for facades,
portals,
windows, attics,
chim-
neys-usually copied
and
recopied
and circulated
among
dif-
ferent
workshops.
Far from the
systematization
of the Renais-
sance,
which formulated a
beauty
attendant on
rules,
a new
generation operated
between "science and
practice." Filling
the
theoretical void between Delorme and
Chambray
is
Jacques
Gentilhatre's
drawing
album and architectural treatise
(1615-
1625).
L.
Chatelet-Lange
discusses this
practical
manual for
architects and
engineers
which embraces various
types
of mil-
itary
architecture.
Serlio's L'architettura
(1537-1551)
is
quite naturally
at the
fulcrum of Renaissance
architecture,
especially
in terms of its
impact
on France. With the
appearance
of Book
IV,
the il-
lustrations introduced a new classical
language. J. J.
Gloton
reviews
early
manifestations of classicism in French architecture
at
Fontainebleau,
La
Rochelle,
and Toulouse. He notes that
Book
V,
the Libro
estraordinario,
with its rustic
porticos,
had little
impact
until the 17th
century,
when it became allied to the
architecture of Louis
XIII,
as
expounded by
De Brosse and
Francois Mansart.
Shute's The First and
Chief
Groundes
of
Architecture
(1563)
is
the earliest
description
of classical orders in
England, reflecting
the interest of
patrons
at the court of Edward VI. In "The Ideal
House and
Healthy
Life;
the
Origins
of Architectural
Theory
in
England,"
M. Howard identifies the
precedent
for such a
house in a medical
tract,
Andrew Boorde's
Compendyous Regy-
ment,
or
Dyetary of
Health
(1542).
Both works are here
interpreted
as consonant with new
professional attitudes,
as well as a view
of architecture that
emphasizes
a
healthy prospect
rather than
aesthetic
delight, namely,
the
"health-giving
house."
Only
in the last third of the 16th
century
did Renaissance
architectural treatises
acquire
an audience in
England. Among
the more valuable
readings
of Vitruvius that have come down
to us is that of
Inigo Jones. J.
Newman discusses
Jones's
An-
notations in the context of his
working library, noting
those
books with the most
glosses-Palladio's Quattro libri,
Barbaro's
Vitruvius,
Scamozzi's
L'idea,
and Serlio's Books III and IV.
Regarding proportions
and the
orders,
Jones
saw a
disparity
between the
antique
remains and the Vitruvian text but also
noted "that Vitruvius allowed variations based on decorum."
Newman
points
out
that,
as a scenic
designer, Jones appreciated
Vitruvian
passages
on
optical
illusions and
objected
to "Sca-
mozzi's
stating
as a rule what should be left to the discretion
of the
architect,
or to what
Jones
himself called 'his
sharpness
of wit'"
(p. 438).
Three
papers
deal with the further dissemination of archi-
tectural treatises in the Low Countries and in Eastern
Europe.
J.
Offerhaus seeks to determine the function of Coecke's treatise
the
systematic plans
of Le
Muet,
Du Cerceau's
designs
are a
collection of citations and
collages, seeking diversity
and cre-
ating
models that could be recombined in countless
ways.
Bou-
don's
premises
are best
conveyed
in the
plates depicting
the 50
ground plans
of Book
I,
the roof
plans,
and the 38
plans
of
Book III.
Models,
including perspective
views,
are
given
too.
Looking
at the formal
studies,
the road to Durand's Precis
of 1802 seems
direct;
nor are the latter's
goals
of
efficiency
and
economy
unrelated.
Around the turn of the 17th
century,
architectural
theory
was
more
frequently conveyed by image
than
by
word. Albums of
drawings permitted
clients to choose from a host of architectural
components-details
for facades,
portals,
windows, attics,
chim-
neys-usually copied
and
recopied
and circulated
among
dif-
ferent
workshops.
Far from the
systematization
of the Renais-
sance,
which formulated a
beauty
attendant on
rules,
a new
generation operated
between "science and
practice." Filling
the
theoretical void between Delorme and
Chambray
is
Jacques
Gentilhatre's
drawing
album and architectural treatise
(1615-
1625).
L.
Chatelet-Lange
discusses this
practical
manual for
architects and
engineers
which embraces various
types
of mil-
itary
architecture.
Serlio's L'architettura
(1537-1551)
is
quite naturally
at the
fulcrum of Renaissance
architecture,
especially
in terms of its
impact
on France. With the
appearance
of Book
IV,
the il-
lustrations introduced a new classical
language. J. J.
Gloton
reviews
early
manifestations of classicism in French architecture
at
Fontainebleau,
La
Rochelle,
and Toulouse. He notes that
Book
V,
the Libro
estraordinario,
with its rustic
porticos,
had little
impact
until the 17th
century,
when it became allied to the
architecture of Louis
XIII,
as
expounded by
De Brosse and
Francois Mansart.
Shute's The First and
Chief
Groundes
of
Architecture
(1563)
is
the earliest
description
of classical orders in
England, reflecting
the interest of
patrons
at the court of Edward VI. In "The Ideal
House and
Healthy
Life;
the
Origins
of Architectural
Theory
in
England,"
M. Howard identifies the
precedent
for such a
house in a medical
tract,
Andrew Boorde's
Compendyous Regy-
ment,
or
Dyetary of
Health
(1542).
Both works are here
interpreted
as consonant with new
professional attitudes,
as well as a view
of architecture that
emphasizes
a
healthy prospect
rather than
aesthetic
delight, namely,
the
"health-giving
house."
Only
in the last third of the 16th
century
did Renaissance
architectural treatises
acquire
an audience in
England. Among
the more valuable
readings
of Vitruvius that have come down
to us is that of
Inigo Jones. J.
Newman discusses
Jones's
An-
notations in the context of his
working library, noting
those
books with the most
glosses-Palladio's Quattro libri,
Barbaro's
Vitruvius,
Scamozzi's
L'idea,
and Serlio's Books III and IV.
Regarding proportions
and the
orders,
Jones
saw a
disparity
between the
antique
remains and the Vitruvian text but also
noted "that Vitruvius allowed variations based on decorum."
Newman
points
out
that,
as a scenic
designer, Jones appreciated
Vitruvian
passages
on
optical
illusions and
objected
to "Sca-
mozzi's
stating
as a rule what should be left to the discretion
of the
architect,
or to what
Jones
himself called 'his
sharpness
of wit'"
(p. 438).
Three
papers
deal with the further dissemination of archi-
tectural treatises in the Low Countries and in Eastern
Europe.
J.
Offerhaus seeks to determine the function of Coecke's treatise
and stresses his role as a
popularizer
rather than as innovator.
Coecke's
publications
influenced Hans Vredeman de
Vries, but
there is evidence that Italian architecture was
already
known in
Antwerp
before the
appearance
of his treatise, c. 1540. M. Van
de Winckel reviews the work of Vredeman de Vries, whose
garden
illustrations and treatises on
perspective
and architecture
(1577)
circulated
widely.
No architectural treatises were
pro-
duced in central
Europe,
but those of Vitruvius, Serlio, and
Palladio
gained
wide
popularity.
T.
Jakimowicz and
J.
Kowal-
czyk
examine the role of such maecenas as
King
Corvin,
Sig-
ismond I
(who
combined a certain eclectism with the local
vernacular),
and Polish chancellor
Jan Zamoyski (who
founded
the ideal
city
of Zamosc in 1579, built
by
Bernardo Morando
of
Padua).
Admittedly,
treatises on fortifications are of another and more
practical genre, actually grouped
with the science of mechanics
and the
special
technical
vocabulary
that is
indigenous
to the
military
art. C. Wilkinson writes about the
ambiguous position
of fortifications and the
relationship
between mechanics and
architecture,
encompassing
the classical
separation
of the me-
chanical and the liberal arts. Treatises of French
military
ar-
chitecture around the turn of the 17th
century
are
analyzed by
Y. Bruand. He focuses on
military engineer
Antoine de Ville's
Lesfortifications (1628),
which are
depicted
within fantastic land-
scapes,
almost reminiscent of Callot. Certain
goals
of these tracts
are similar to architectural treatises in
general:
the need to
sys-
tematize
data, the
aspiration
to mathematical order, and the
introduction of ideal forms. The aims of the
military engineers
are
always
tied to know-how and
application,
and never to
intelligent speculation.
J. Bury
adds a coda to the Actes with a
bibliography
on "Ren-
aissance Architectural Treatises and Architectural
Books,"
spe-
cifically
civil and
military publications
before 1640. His cate-
gories
include treatises on the
orders, illustrated works on ancient
and
contemporary
Renaissance
architecture,
architectural de-
signs
for
buildings
and their
ornamentation,
and treatises on
fortification. We
may
follow the fortunes of a treatise
by
the
listing
of different
printings,
translations,
critical
editions, and
facsimiles.
Unfortunately,
the
long gestation period
for the birth of this
volume has taken its
toll,
and some of the most
stimulating
papers presented
at the conference are not
reproduced
here.
Moreover, like the treatises
themselves,
the
papers
are addressed
to the initiated.
Still,
within such
limitations,
this book remains
a fundamental source for future studies on the Renaissance trea-
tise.
NAOMI MILLER
Boston
University
CACFER
EFENDI, Risdle-i
Micmdriyye:
An
Early
Seventeenth-
Century
Ottoman Treatise on
Architecture,
facsimile with trans-
lation and notes
by
Howard Crane
(Studies
in Islamic Art and
Architecture,
1),
Leiden and New York: E.
J. Brill, 1987, 126
pp.,
with facsimile of text fols. lr-87v in b. & w.
photos.
$60.00.
The
Risale-i
Micmdriyee,
an
early 17th-century
Ottoman trea-
tise on architecture
by
Cacfer
Efendi,
has for a
long
time attracted
the interest of scholars because it is one of the
very
few written
and stresses his role as a
popularizer
rather than as innovator.
Coecke's
publications
influenced Hans Vredeman de
Vries, but
there is evidence that Italian architecture was
already
known in
Antwerp
before the
appearance
of his treatise, c. 1540. M. Van
de Winckel reviews the work of Vredeman de Vries, whose
garden
illustrations and treatises on
perspective
and architecture
(1577)
circulated
widely.
No architectural treatises were
pro-
duced in central
Europe,
but those of Vitruvius, Serlio, and
Palladio
gained
wide
popularity.
T.
Jakimowicz and
J.
Kowal-
czyk
examine the role of such maecenas as
King
Corvin,
Sig-
ismond I
(who
combined a certain eclectism with the local
vernacular),
and Polish chancellor
Jan Zamoyski (who
founded
the ideal
city
of Zamosc in 1579, built
by
Bernardo Morando
of
Padua).
Admittedly,
treatises on fortifications are of another and more
practical genre, actually grouped
with the science of mechanics
and the
special
technical
vocabulary
that is
indigenous
to the
military
art. C. Wilkinson writes about the
ambiguous position
of fortifications and the
relationship
between mechanics and
architecture,
encompassing
the classical
separation
of the me-
chanical and the liberal arts. Treatises of French
military
ar-
chitecture around the turn of the 17th
century
are
analyzed by
Y. Bruand. He focuses on
military engineer
Antoine de Ville's
Lesfortifications (1628),
which are
depicted
within fantastic land-
scapes,
almost reminiscent of Callot. Certain
goals
of these tracts
are similar to architectural treatises in
general:
the need to
sys-
tematize
data, the
aspiration
to mathematical order, and the
introduction of ideal forms. The aims of the
military engineers
are
always
tied to know-how and
application,
and never to
intelligent speculation.
J. Bury
adds a coda to the Actes with a
bibliography
on "Ren-
aissance Architectural Treatises and Architectural
Books,"
spe-
cifically
civil and
military publications
before 1640. His cate-
gories
include treatises on the
orders, illustrated works on ancient
and
contemporary
Renaissance
architecture,
architectural de-
signs
for
buildings
and their
ornamentation,
and treatises on
fortification. We
may
follow the fortunes of a treatise
by
the
listing
of different
printings,
translations,
critical
editions, and
facsimiles.
Unfortunately,
the
long gestation period
for the birth of this
volume has taken its
toll,
and some of the most
stimulating
papers presented
at the conference are not
reproduced
here.
Moreover, like the treatises
themselves,
the
papers
are addressed
to the initiated.
Still,
within such
limitations,
this book remains
a fundamental source for future studies on the Renaissance trea-
tise.
NAOMI MILLER
Boston
University
CACFER
EFENDI, Risdle-i
Micmdriyye:
An
Early
Seventeenth-
Century
Ottoman Treatise on
Architecture,
facsimile with trans-
lation and notes
by
Howard Crane
(Studies
in Islamic Art and
Architecture,
1),
Leiden and New York: E.
J. Brill, 1987, 126
pp.,
with facsimile of text fols. lr-87v in b. & w.
photos.
$60.00.
The
Risale-i
Micmdriyee,
an
early 17th-century
Ottoman trea-
tise on architecture
by
Cacfer
Efendi,
has for a
long
time attracted
the interest of scholars because it is one of the
very
few written
This content downloaded from 203.135.190.8 on Mon, 22 Sep 2014 05:43:59 AM
All use subject to JSTOR Terms and Conditions
BOOK REVIEWS 211
sources we have for Islamic architecture. The Risale has been
cited and
partially published by
various
scholars,
but Howard
Crane's new
English
translation,
provided
with valuable notes
and a facsimile of the
original
text, makes the
complete
text
widely
accessible for the first time. This is a welcome contri-
bution not
only
to the
specialized
field of Islamic
architecture,
but also to that of architectural
history
in
general. Coupled
with
another
newly published 18th-century
treatise
by
Ahmed Efendi
on architecture
(Pia Hochhut, ed.,
Die Moschee
Niruosmaniye
in
Istanbul.
Beitrdge
zur
Baugeschichte
nach osmanischen
Quellen,
Ber-
lin,
1986),
Crane's
publication signals
a
growing
interest in the
study, through primary
sources,
of Islamic architectural
practice.
Crane's introduction starts with a
systematic survey
of
pre-
vious literature on the
Risale
and relates the text to the
genre
of Islamic literature known as tezkire
(biographical memoir),
more
specifically
to the late
16th-century eulogistic biographies
of the Ottoman chief
imperial
architect
Sinan,
which he dictated
to the
painter-poet
Mustafa Saci,
a
relationship
made
explicit by
Cacfer Efendi himself: ". . . Before
this, menakib-ndmes
[books
of
deeds]
were written and
composed
about some of the chief
architects. As
menakib-names
were written down for
them,
it is
necessary
for us to write ... a
menakib-ndme on our
generous
Aga" (p. 6).
As Crane
notes,
the Risale is not
simply
an architect's
biog-
raphy.
Of its 15
chapters,
the first four trace the career of Mehmed
Aga
from the ranks of a
Janissary
recruit,
through
a
military
career
involving
the
inspection
of fortresses and
fighting
bandits,
to chief
imperial
architect.
They
contain substantial sections on
the science of
geometry
as the common basis for the crafts of
music,
mother-of-pearl inlaying,
and
architecture,
in which the
Aga
received his
training
while he was a member of the
corps
of
royal gardeners
in the
Topkapi
Palace. These
biographical
chapters,
which also
enumerate,
through
various
episodes,
the
architect's
praiseworthy
deeds and
virtues,
are
comparable
to
Sinan's
biographies composed by
Saci,
or to Manetti's
Life of
Brunelleschi,
all of which stress the architect's successful
struggle
in a slanderous environment full of
rivalry (pp.
37-38,
41).
Chapters
five and six deal with Mehmed
Aga's major
architec-
tural
works,
including
his
repairs
of the sacred sanctuaries in
Mecca and
Medina,
and his construction of the
mosque
of Sultan
Ahmed I in
Istanbul,
which had reached dome level when the
manuscript
was
completed
in 1614-1615.
Chapters
seven
through
10 discuss various units of measurement and the science
of
geometry
as used
by
architects in land
surveying. Chapters
11
through
14
compile
a
trilingual (Arabic, Persian,
and Turk-
ish) glossary
of terms for
architecture,
the
building
trades,
and
music,
informed
by
the author's
approximately 20-year-long
association with the
Aga
as a client. The last
chapter, containing
a
benediction,
implies
that the finished
manuscript
was
presented
by
the author to his
patron,
Mehmed
Aga, just
as the latter had
once
presented mother-of-pearl
inlaid
objects
to the sultan to
advance his career: "This
[book]
was betrothed to His Excel-
lency
the
Aga
.... It is
completely
filled with
pearls
like moth-
er-of-pearl./
Where is there another such chest of rare
pearls?"
(pp. 108-109).
Crane's introduction
(pp. 1-15)
summarizes the information
found in the treatise and
provides
the basic facts about the career
of Mehmed
Aga
in the context of the Ottoman
system
of the
Corps
of
Imperial Architects,
a sort of
ministry
of
public
works
reflecting
the bureaucratic centralization of the construction
industry by
the state. Crane concludes his brief introduction
by
drawing
attention to the
importance
of the Risale as a source
for the
history
of Ottoman architecture, "not
only
for the hu-
man context but also for the
technological
environment which
produced
the
great
monuments of the Ottoman classical
age"
(p. 15).
The
subsequent
sections of the book contain a translation
of the text
(pp. 17-109),
an
appendix
on the units and
equivalen-
cies of
weights
and measures,
bibliography,
an index of technical
terms, a
general index, and the facsimile.
A critical evaluation of the book has to take into consideration
problems posed by translating
the difficult text, which is
ap-
pended
with a
trilingual glossary
of terms with no direct
equiv-
alents in
English. Having
undertaken this heroic task, Crane
runs into inevitable
problems.
Alternative translations can be
proposed
for some
parts
of his text. For
example,
the reference
to the architect as a "man with an oeuvre" is translated
by
Crane
as "master craftsman"
(p. 59), implying
an unintended artisanal
status. A
couplet
in a
poem
that
compares
the
mosque
of Sultan
Ahmed to a rose
garden
is translated as: "None
[but
the
Aga]
can
give
such
splendor
to the flowers of the
rose-garden./
He
who seized the
pen
drew the border as
though
a
compass
were
in hand"
(p. 75);
context
suggests, however,
that reference is
made not to the
Aga,
but to
Cacfer, the author who
composed
with his
pen,
like a skillful
architect, the
poem describing
the
garden-like mosque.
A few more
examples
are sufficient to
give
an idea of the nuances of
meaning
between translated text and
original: (1)
"It describes who the
patron
saints of architects are
and how His
Excellency
the
Aga
with the
blessings
of noble
shaikhs learned the arts of
mother-of-pearl inlaying
and archi-
tecture"
(fol. lr),
translated
by
Crane as: "It describes who the
master architects were and from whom His
Excellency
the
Aga,
with the
blessing
of his noble
shaikh,
learned the arts of ar-
chitecture and the
working
of
mother-of-pearl" (p. 17); (2)
"How is it that such an edifice was
artfully
made
/
Without
drawings [plans]
without
geometry
and without a
[three-di-
mensional]
model?"
(fol. 3v),
translated
by
Crane as: "What is
this? Who made such an edifice
/
Without
drawings
and with-
out mathematics and without
analogy?" (p. 20).
Despite
its
problems,
Crane's translation remains on the whole
loyal
to the
original
text and
captures
its archaic flavor. While
those who can read Ottoman-Turkish can consult the
original
text
published
in
facsimile,
the translation makes available to
English
readers an
important
source that raises
many interesting
questions.
Crane limits the
scope
of his
descriptive
introduction
to those
questions concerning
the career of the architect Mehmed
Aga
in the Ottoman
context, without
analyzing
the text's fur-
ther
implications
from the
point
of view of architectural
theory.
Since the text is not
merely
a collection of
facts, however,
but a
complex ideological
construct with various
subtexts,
it
needs to be
analyzed critically.
What
general
inferences can be
drawn from the Risale about the
principles
and
meanings
of
architecture in Ottoman
society?
Does it throw
light
on the
aesthetic
values,
symbolic associations,
and theories of architec-
tural
design
that once informed the construction and
perception
of Ottoman
buildings?
To answer these
questions
one must first determine the
scope
and
potential
limits of the source at hand. Its
author, Cacfer
Efendi,
the son of an ascetic
shaikh,
"in order to
study
the
religious
sciences" had come to Istanbul where he became a
client of the architect Mehmed
Aga:
"For more than
twenty
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212 JSAH, XLIX:2,
JUNE
1990
years
the
Aga
has
always
been thus
generous
and benevolent to
us ....
Every
time we
go
to his
house,
great quantities
of food
appealing
to the senses
appear" (pp. 42-43).
When Cacfer's
intention to
compose
a
biography
of the
Aga
became
public,
a
"numerous
group
from the
community
of shaikhs and
upright
persons
and from the
assembly
of
poor religious
students" flocked
to his door to describe how the
generous
architect had
given
them
gifts,
and to
pressure
the author to include their stories
in the book so that each would
buy
a
copy (p. 44). Clearly,
then,
neither Cacfer's
acquaintances
nor the
potential
readers of
his book were
practitioners
or
patrons
of architecture. The au-
thor,
who had withdrawn into a hermit's cell before he
began
to
compose
the
treatise,
occasionally
visited the construction
site of the Sultan Ahmed
mosque
to see if
something
worth
including
in his book of deeds had come to
light.
On one of
these visits he read the fortune of Mehmed
Aga (who
was
dejected by
the
heavy
burden of
multiple building projects
scat-
tered in
many places)
from a
"holy
book"
containing
the
Proph-
et's traditions that he was
carrying,
after which the architect
rewarded Cacfer with
money
and a ram
(pp. 68-69).
In the
light
of these circumstances, Crane's
hypothesis
that
Cacfer
may
have been one of Mehmed
Aga's
assistants in the
Corps
of
Imperial
Architects is
highly unlikely (p. 6).
In a
poem
commemorating
the foundation
ceremony
of the Sultan Ahmed
mosque,
which
poem
he
composed upon seeing
the
complicated
plans
and
drawings
of the
architect,
Cacfer himself disclaims
any specialized knowledge
of architecture: "Because it is not
possible
to relate how vast a
building
this noble
mosque
is,
how
solidly
its foundations and structure were
made,
we have not
described these. In
truth,
one who wishes to understand these
matters should first become
greatly
skilled and well versed in
the science of
geometry.
After
that,
it is
necessary
to
study
and
ponder
it for
many days
and months and
years
and for much
time in order to
comprehend
in what manner and in what
ways
its various
designs
and
interlocking
decorations were
put
to-
gether" (pp. 65-68). Cacfer,
who does not seem
distinguished
in architectural
literacy,
exhibits an obsession with
philology,
reflected in his
etymological
exercises with Arabic
roots,
and
his
compilation
of a
glossary
of terms in
Arabic,
provided
with
Persian and Turkish
equivalents.
His
knowledge
of Arabic
points
to a madrasa
training
in the
religious sciences,
suggesting
that
he
might
have been a
secretary
in the architect's service: "when
certain
subjects concerning
the science of
geometry
were
being
discussed this humble servant took down
everything" (pp.
22-
23).
Caafer's
religious training
also manifests itself in the relative
absence of technical information on architecture in the
Risale,
which instead focuses on the virtuous deeds of the architect and
on the divine
origins
of architecture. Like Sinan's
biography,
with which Cacfer was no doubt
acquainted,
the Risale
begins
with a
description
of the creation of the universe
by God,
the
divine architect
(pp. 19-20), implying
an
analogy
with the
human architect's creation of the Sultan Ahmed
mosque,
de-
scribed as a microcosmic
representation
of the universe
(pp.
65-
75).
Unlike Sinan's
biography by
a
painter-poet, however, which
traces the
origin
of architecture to man's hatred of caves and to
the
progress
of
civilization,
that of Mehmed
Aga
aims to raise
the status of architecture
by
reference to Islamic
tradition,
a
concern
reflecting
the
growing emphasis
on
religious orthodoxy
in the
reign
of Ahmed I as a result of
military
conflict with the
Safavid Shah Abbas
(referred
to as the "heretic shah" on
pp.
67,
75).
Cacfer seeks to
provide
a
religious legitimation
of ar-
chitecture, whose
origin
he traces to the
heavenly prototype
of
the Kacba in Mecca, and whose
patron
saints Seth
(the
son of
Adam),
Abraham, and Noah were all
"pure prophets" (pp.
28-
29).
Sinan's
biography
recommends that the architect
(usually
a
convert from
Christianity)
has to be
pious,
but Cacfer's treatise
almost
exaggerates
the
religiosity
of Mehmed
Aga,
whose der-
vish-like
modesty
never allowed him to boast: "In his
right
hand he held a
rosary
and in his left hand a
measuring
stick ...
on the one hand so
scrupulous
with his devotions and on the
other at his
perseverance
and his efforts with the craftsmen"
(p.
68).
The
Aga
had chosen to be trained in the
complementary
arts of
mother-of-pearl inlaying
and architecture when a
shaykh
advised him to abandon the
study
of
music, the art of
gypsies:
"My son, it is
necessary
for
you
to renounce that art. If that art
were a
good
art, it would be
practiced by righteous
and virtuous
persons" (p. 28).
The same
shaykh
blessed his
subsequent
ar-
chitectural studies as orthodox: "Son, this art and work were
seen fit and
worthy
for
you
because for the most
part
it is the
work of architects to build noble
Friday mosques,
and fine small
mosques
... and all sorts of charitable and
pious buildings" (p.
32).
Writing
in the 1630s, the Ottoman traveler
Evliya
?(elebi
confirms the
long-standing rivalry
between musicians and ar-
chitects who
disputed
in front of Sultan Murad IV
(1623-1640)
their relative rank in
guild processions.
The chief architect ar-
gued
that architects should
precede
the musicians since
they
built
holy mosques, palaces,
mausolea, and fortresses for the
armies of Islam. The chief of musicians answered: "We are most
necessary
to the
Emperor's magnificence, splendor
and
majesty,
because wherever he
goes
we
accompany
him with drums and
pipes,
and
inspire
with
courage
the Islamic
troops by
the noise
of kettledrums .... The architect's
guilds
are all
composed
of
Armenian, Greek, and Albanese infidels. Do
not,
my gracious
Lord,
grant
them the
precedency
over the musicians."'
By
such
pleading
the musicians
won,
as the
practitioners
of a more or-
thodox
profession,
a
victory
that was
perhaps
foreshadowed
by
Cacfer's efforts to
provide religious legitimacy
for architecture.
The architect's relative loss of status
by
the second half of the
17th
century was,
in
fact,
paralleled by
a
general
shift of Ot-
toman cultural
creativity
from the
sphere
of architecture to the
flourishing
field of
music,
a
noteworthy
transformation that
turned the Sultan Ahmed
mosque
into the last
great imperial
mosque
ever built.
The
relationship
between music and architecture is a curious
leitmotif in the Risale that Crane
might
have
explored
in his
introductory essay.
The musical
qualities
of
harmony,
"that
which is
agreeable
in
nature," and of
dissonance,
"that which
is offensive in nature"
(p. 26),
found their
parallel
in architec-
ture, as a music
expert
noted while
observing
the
mosque
of
Sultan Ahmed
(p. 68):
"Now we have seen the science of music
in its
entirety
in the
building
of this noble
mosque."
This state-
1. E.
(elebi, Narrative
of
Travels in
Europe, Asia,
and
Africa,
in the
Seventeenth
Century,
trans.
J.
von
Hammer-Purgstall,
2
vols., London,
1834, I, 225. Idem, Seydhatname,
10
vols., Istanbul, 1896, I, 620-621.
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BOOK REVIEWS 213 BOOK REVIEWS 213
ment has
important implications
for the use of musical har-
monies as a basis for architectural
proportions,
but Cacfer is
apparently incapable
of
presenting
a coherent discussion of such
a
theory, just
as he is unable to formulate
forcefully
the
implied
idea of
geometry
as the common basis for the arts. The
kinship
of music and
architecture,
noted as
early
as the 10th
century by
the Islamic
philosopher
al-Farabi,
and the
all-pervasiveness
of
geometric systems
in Islamic art and architecture endow Cacfer's
rather nebulous statements with a
wide-reaching significance.
His
poems describing
the
mosque
of Sultan Ahmed
again testify
to his
inability
to evaluate architecture
formally,
even if
they
do
provide
clues about
contemporary
aesthetic values and
sym-
bolic associations.
After a
reading
of Cacfer's treatise,
the
question
of what sort
of
theory
of architectural
design guided
Ottoman architects still
remains
open.
This seems to be
largely
the result of Cacfer's
own
limitations,
coupled
with the
mentality
of a
society
that
did not
generally regard
architecture as a
prestigious
intellectual
activity.
Architecture in the Ottoman world neither retained its
medieval craft status nor attained the Renaissance status of a
high
intellectual
pursuit worthy
of the
ruling
elite's
attention;
it somehow remained
suspended
between those two
poles.
It
would be
hasty
to conclude from the
Risale,
a treatise written
neither to
present comprehensive principles
of architecture nor
to instruct the architect or the educated
patron,
that Ottoman
architects were unable to
develop
coherent
principles
of
design.
The Islamic world did not
possess
an
equivalent
of Vitruvius's
treatise as a model for learned architectural
discourse; instead,
information on architecture often
appeared indirectly
in tradi-
tional
literary genres
like
poetry
and
biography,
or in technical
manuals of
geometry
and mathematics. The
reader, therefore,
should not be
disappointed
if the Risale-i
Micmdriyye
is not
truly
a "treatise" on architecture in the Western sense of the term.
GULRU NECIPOGLU
Harvard
University
JI CHENG,
The
Craft of Gardens,
translated
by
Alison
Hardie,
New
Haven,
Conn.: Yale
University Press, 1988,
144
pp.,
50
b. & w.
photos,
40 color
pls.,
1
map.
$35.00.
Yuan Ye
(The Craft of Gardens), completed by Ji
Cheng
in
1634,
is the earliest
major
Chinese treatise on
garden design.
The author was a
professional painter
turned
landscape designer.
In
detailing
the creation of a
garden,
the text discusses the ideas
that should be
inspired by garden scenery
and offers
practical
(not technical)
advice
concerning
the fabrication of
garden
buildings, pebbled walkways,
and rockeries meant to imitate
natural mountains.
Ji frequently
alludes to ancient literature and
Daoist
thought
as he describes
gardens,
but for all his how-to-
do-it
counsel,
his
approach
is laissez-faire
since,
according
to
him,
there are "no fixed rules for
designing gardens" (p. 119).
The
only
universal is that a
garden
must stir
"deep
emotions"
in its visitors
(p. 106).
Ji's
treatise
provides
a
glimpse
into the lives of the
upper
echelon
during
the
Ming dynasty (1368-1644).
This class held
that semi-reclusion in a
garden
was a
lofty ideal,
especially
when
patterned
after the
poet
Tao
Qian (365-427),
whom so
many
ment has
important implications
for the use of musical har-
monies as a basis for architectural
proportions,
but Cacfer is
apparently incapable
of
presenting
a coherent discussion of such
a
theory, just
as he is unable to formulate
forcefully
the
implied
idea of
geometry
as the common basis for the arts. The
kinship
of music and
architecture,
noted as
early
as the 10th
century by
the Islamic
philosopher
al-Farabi,
and the
all-pervasiveness
of
geometric systems
in Islamic art and architecture endow Cacfer's
rather nebulous statements with a
wide-reaching significance.
His
poems describing
the
mosque
of Sultan Ahmed
again testify
to his
inability
to evaluate architecture
formally,
even if
they
do
provide
clues about
contemporary
aesthetic values and
sym-
bolic associations.
After a
reading
of Cacfer's treatise,
the
question
of what sort
of
theory
of architectural
design guided
Ottoman architects still
remains
open.
This seems to be
largely
the result of Cacfer's
own
limitations,
coupled
with the
mentality
of a
society
that
did not
generally regard
architecture as a
prestigious
intellectual
activity.
Architecture in the Ottoman world neither retained its
medieval craft status nor attained the Renaissance status of a
high
intellectual
pursuit worthy
of the
ruling
elite's
attention;
it somehow remained
suspended
between those two
poles.
It
would be
hasty
to conclude from the
Risale,
a treatise written
neither to
present comprehensive principles
of architecture nor
to instruct the architect or the educated
patron,
that Ottoman
architects were unable to
develop
coherent
principles
of
design.
The Islamic world did not
possess
an
equivalent
of Vitruvius's
treatise as a model for learned architectural
discourse; instead,
information on architecture often
appeared indirectly
in tradi-
tional
literary genres
like
poetry
and
biography,
or in technical
manuals of
geometry
and mathematics. The
reader, therefore,
should not be
disappointed
if the Risale-i
Micmdriyye
is not
truly
a "treatise" on architecture in the Western sense of the term.
GULRU NECIPOGLU
Harvard
University
JI CHENG,
The
Craft of Gardens,
translated
by
Alison
Hardie,
New
Haven,
Conn.: Yale
University Press, 1988,
144
pp.,
50
b. & w.
photos,
40 color
pls.,
1
map.
$35.00.
Yuan Ye
(The Craft of Gardens), completed by Ji
Cheng
in
1634,
is the earliest
major
Chinese treatise on
garden design.
The author was a
professional painter
turned
landscape designer.
In
detailing
the creation of a
garden,
the text discusses the ideas
that should be
inspired by garden scenery
and offers
practical
(not technical)
advice
concerning
the fabrication of
garden
buildings, pebbled walkways,
and rockeries meant to imitate
natural mountains.
Ji frequently
alludes to ancient literature and
Daoist
thought
as he describes
gardens,
but for all his how-to-
do-it
counsel,
his
approach
is laissez-faire
since,
according
to
him,
there are "no fixed rules for
designing gardens" (p. 119).
The
only
universal is that a
garden
must stir
"deep
emotions"
in its visitors
(p. 106).
Ji's
treatise
provides
a
glimpse
into the lives of the
upper
echelon
during
the
Ming dynasty (1368-1644).
This class held
that semi-reclusion in a
garden
was a
lofty ideal,
especially
when
patterned
after the
poet
Tao
Qian (365-427),
whom so
many
took as a model. Tao was famous for
resigning
a secure
gov-
ernment
post
and
returning
home to his
garden
in order to
maintain his moral
integrity. Although
Yuan Ye discusses the
ideals that were the basis for a scholar-official's
garden,
the
treatise was in all
probability
meant more for the use of a
wealthy
merchant class. Scholars would have found
Ji repetitive,
since
the literati
painting
and
poetry
of the
preceding
centuries had
intimated all that
Ji spelled
out. A nascent
money economy
spawned during
the
Ming
created a new class of rich that was
eager
to
adopt
the cultured
patina
of the literati and their ex-
acting expectations
of what a
garden
should be.
Yuan Ye documents the aesthetics of the
garden
tradition
during Ming
China, when it reached an
acme,
but in
particular
the treatise records the
17th-century
fashion.
Although
West-
erners often think of Chinese
garden design
as
static, Ji
showed
that
garden design,
like
any
art, is
subject
to
change
and
period
styles.
In a discussion of window
shapes,
for
example,
he men-
tions that in "the old
days
windows in the
shape
of a ... water-
caltrop
flower were considered most artistic"
(p. 76),
but con-
temporary
taste called for the
shape
of willow leaves.
Alison Hardie's translation is the first
unabridged English
version of Yuan
Ye,
and it reads
well,
at times even
poetically;
often Hardie maintains the cadence of the
original, performing
linguistic
acrobatics in order to
followJi
Cheng's style
of
parallel
prose.
Hardie
wisely
based her translation on the excellent 1978
annotated Chinese version
by
Chen
Zhi,
Yang Chaobo,
and
Chen
Congzhou.
Where Hardie
occasionally
differs from
them,
however, I find her
unconvincing.
Some
passages
in the
original
are difficult to
interpret, especially
the
poetic
sections that Chen
Congzhou
has
pointed
out were
ghost
written
by
a down-at-
the-heels literatus to
help
Ji,
who lacked a classical education.
Hardie,
curiously,
did not consult the
earlier,
partial
translation
of Yuan Ye
by
Osvald
Siren,
which in a few
passages surpasses
her work
(The
Gardens
of
China,
New
York,
1949). However,
Hardie corrects a number of Siren's
misinterpretations,
and in
general
her text is reliable.
The most
glaring
error is the translation of the title as The
Craft of
Gardens. The Chinese
literally
means
"garden"
and "to
smelt or fuse
metal";
therefore
Forging
a Garden would have
been
appropriate.
Ji
Cheng
uses the verb
ye
to
suggest
the in-
nermost secret of Chinese
garden design-the
harmonious fu-
sion of
disparate
elements of
water, rocks,
plants,
and architec-
ture into an indivisible whole like smelted ore. Ye also means
"fascinating
and seductive
beauty,"
and the character is some-
times substituted for the word for "wild," which has the same
pronounciation.
These
secondary meanings
no doubt also struck
Ji
and his audience as
appropriate
connotations for a
garden.
Hardie's "craft" is not
very
close to the
original meaning
and
it
inappropriately suggests
that Chinese
gardens
are not
high
art but handicraft.
Although
Ji
proclaims
the need for a master
craftsman
(which
he was
himself)
as a consultant when
building
a
garden,
he makes it clear that
garden design equals painting
and
poetry.
Literati
garden owners,
according
to
Ji,
designed
nine-tenths of their
properties by
themselves
(p. 39),
and since
they
were trained in
poetry
and dabbled in
painting,
similar
attitudes and aesthetic theories came to
apply
to all three arts.
The
Craft of
Gardens includes an informative foreword
by
Maggie Keswick,
who summarizes the
major
features of Chinese
gardens
and
places
Yuan Ye in a historical framework.
However,
the
essay
suffers from
oversimplification
and from errors in the
took as a model. Tao was famous for
resigning
a secure
gov-
ernment
post
and
returning
home to his
garden
in order to
maintain his moral
integrity. Although
Yuan Ye discusses the
ideals that were the basis for a scholar-official's
garden,
the
treatise was in all
probability
meant more for the use of a
wealthy
merchant class. Scholars would have found
Ji repetitive,
since
the literati
painting
and
poetry
of the
preceding
centuries had
intimated all that
Ji spelled
out. A nascent
money economy
spawned during
the
Ming
created a new class of rich that was
eager
to
adopt
the cultured
patina
of the literati and their ex-
acting expectations
of what a
garden
should be.
Yuan Ye documents the aesthetics of the
garden
tradition
during Ming
China, when it reached an
acme,
but in
particular
the treatise records the
17th-century
fashion.
Although
West-
erners often think of Chinese
garden design
as
static, Ji
showed
that
garden design,
like
any
art, is
subject
to
change
and
period
styles.
In a discussion of window
shapes,
for
example,
he men-
tions that in "the old
days
windows in the
shape
of a ... water-
caltrop
flower were considered most artistic"
(p. 76),
but con-
temporary
taste called for the
shape
of willow leaves.
Alison Hardie's translation is the first
unabridged English
version of Yuan
Ye,
and it reads
well,
at times even
poetically;
often Hardie maintains the cadence of the
original, performing
linguistic
acrobatics in order to
followJi
Cheng's style
of
parallel
prose.
Hardie
wisely
based her translation on the excellent 1978
annotated Chinese version
by
Chen
Zhi,
Yang Chaobo,
and
Chen
Congzhou.
Where Hardie
occasionally
differs from
them,
however, I find her
unconvincing.
Some
passages
in the
original
are difficult to
interpret, especially
the
poetic
sections that Chen
Congzhou
has
pointed
out were
ghost
written
by
a down-at-
the-heels literatus to
help
Ji,
who lacked a classical education.
Hardie,
curiously,
did not consult the
earlier,
partial
translation
of Yuan Ye
by
Osvald
Siren,
which in a few
passages surpasses
her work
(The
Gardens
of
China,
New
York,
1949). However,
Hardie corrects a number of Siren's
misinterpretations,
and in
general
her text is reliable.
The most
glaring
error is the translation of the title as The
Craft of
Gardens. The Chinese
literally
means
"garden"
and "to
smelt or fuse
metal";
therefore
Forging
a Garden would have
been
appropriate.
Ji
Cheng
uses the verb
ye
to
suggest
the in-
nermost secret of Chinese
garden design-the
harmonious fu-
sion of
disparate
elements of
water, rocks,
plants,
and architec-
ture into an indivisible whole like smelted ore. Ye also means
"fascinating
and seductive
beauty,"
and the character is some-
times substituted for the word for "wild," which has the same
pronounciation.
These
secondary meanings
no doubt also struck
Ji
and his audience as
appropriate
connotations for a
garden.
Hardie's "craft" is not
very
close to the
original meaning
and
it
inappropriately suggests
that Chinese
gardens
are not
high
art but handicraft.
Although
Ji
proclaims
the need for a master
craftsman
(which
he was
himself)
as a consultant when
building
a
garden,
he makes it clear that
garden design equals painting
and
poetry.
Literati
garden owners,
according
to
Ji,
designed
nine-tenths of their
properties by
themselves
(p. 39),
and since
they
were trained in
poetry
and dabbled in
painting,
similar
attitudes and aesthetic theories came to
apply
to all three arts.
The
Craft of
Gardens includes an informative foreword
by
Maggie Keswick,
who summarizes the
major
features of Chinese
gardens
and
places
Yuan Ye in a historical framework.
However,
the
essay
suffers from
oversimplification
and from errors in the
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