Lessons Learned, Discoveries Made, and Our Adventures Along the Way

In this final post we offer our reflections on the work and experiences we had in Cappadocia. We are extremely grateful to Dr. Jones for allowing us to participate in her field research. This is a summer none of us will forget.

Stephanie
Hard as it is, I love what I do, and working in Cappadocia confirmed that the perks of working in art history are vast. My major field of study is Modern art, so I jumped at this unique opportunity to get out of the archive and into the field. The past weeks in Cappadocia became a kind of art history methodological boot camp, primarily of iconography and style, and I was able to really hone my eye (and my calves) as we inspected every minutia of these many churches. Working directly with art objects has secured my knowledge that art history is about honoring the work that you study, and that this field begins and ends with the object.

Brad
This was my third season in Cappadocia and by far the most valuable. My first two seasons correspond to my first two years of graduate school. I was naive and a newbie to art history, Byzantine studies, and fieldwork. I just assumed research in Cappadocia---side-by-side with my Professor in locked rock-cut churches-- was a given rather than an exceptional experience. I made those first two seasons about me and asked Meryamana what she could do for me. This season was entirely different. We did not set foot in Meryamana but she was ever-present. Each rock-cut church spoke to us in a variety of ways, most notably through iconography and style. With each conversation we learned more and more about Meryamana and Byzantine Cappadocia. This summer I learned about our responsibilities as art historians. We are stewards of the monuments. Our job is to listen to what they have to say and find ways to articulate the meanings that have been silenced for nearly a millennium. I felt like the work we did this summer helped us to hear, if only a whisper, what Meryamana has to say.

Sarah
I have acquired a variety of skills during our time in Cappadocia, including how to differentiate between tuff and ignimbrite and how to distinguish the styles of Armenian workshops from those of Constantinople. I have learned that the foundation of these skills lies in the ability to see relationships forming around you. My time in Cappadocia made me realize that the rock-cut churches continue to be intertwined with the local culture. In order to reach the churches we had to pass through modern tourist traps, trek through farms and herds of livestock, and have photo-ops with the Turkish national military. My realization that these churches are approached from a variety of perspectives – i.e. an example of cultural heritage versus a pre-fabricated pigeon coop – encouraged me to see the monuments with fresh eyes. Only then could I begin to see important possible relationships, such as the connection between the brushwork of single decorative motif and the rendering of the Theotokos’s veil by a single hand.

Chris
Our days in the field introduced me to the practicalities of conducting research in Cappadocia. Rock-cut churches are rarely on the map and asking for directions often leads to further confusion, so perseverance is absolutely required. Inside the churches I was first overwhelmed by the sheer amount of imagery that survives; with time I was able to discern smaller variations from church to church. In the evenings, tracing motifs not only resulted in the first drawings of mine that I could consider fridge-worthy, but also trained my eyes to look for the nuances of brushstrokes and technique. Knowing how to search, knowing what to look for, and knowing how to look are all tools I am very thankful I can bring back with me from Cappadocia.

Now we present to you a photomontage full of adventure and bloopers. Thank you for following us this summer.

Turkish Dining

In order to prepare ourselves for our treks through the valleys, our meals always included a layer of the nutritious mineral known as volcanic tuff. Tuff is also useful as a skin salve, nose protectant, and hair styling product.

We had to protect our daily rations from the encroaching local wildlife.

Aside from all the tuff that we ingested we also sampled the exotic local cuisine. Airplane 'cuisine'.

Entries and Exits

Getting into rock-cut churches often proved to be a challenge, and required cooperation among the group. (Lynn would like to point out--on the left pic-- that she was waiting for the guides to get their act together so that she could get down, and on with her day.)

X doesn’t always mark the spot in Cappadocia, but the landscape offers clues.

Road hazards and never-ending stairs became a part of life. Here at Ihlara it's 361 steps down--and 361 back up.

Thankfully, aside from exhaustion and a few scraped knuckles, our injuries were limited to the infamous “church neck” and “tracing neck.”

Wizard Staffs and Wild Dogs

As we hiked through the Cappadocian valleys, we often had to arm ourselves as rumors of wild dogs circulated. Grrrrrrr.

Dr. Jones protected us with her bare hands against the reptiles lurking in the grass and under stones. (Lynn would like it to be noted that she waved tortoises in the general direction of these herpetological threats, and that it seemed to work.)

The local tour guides proved to be fountains of wisdom, retelling the narrative of Iconoclasm through depictions of pre-Iconoclastic chickens and Satanic grasshoppers.

An important lesson learned: always befriend the people with guns, even if they are a little too friendly.

As tempting as it was, we proceeded on foot and were thus deprived of a “nice experience.” We somehow managed, and saved ourselves twenty Turkish Lira a piece.

Questions, Answers and a Few More Questions

I've been thinking about how this, my last post, can do justice to the work we've all done this summer. I can tally up the things that we did: compared style and iconographic variables in fresco programs, hand-traced motifs and letters, paid close attention to brushstrokes, color variations and idiosyncratic spellings and letter forms. What this list doesn't reveal is the wholly unexpected outcome.

We set out to find Anastasia represented in rock-cut churches other than Mereyamana. We found a few such representations but quickly realized that they were dead-ends. The places where we expected to find nothing were where we found what we weren't looking for--evidence of the presence of a branch of an imperial family in Cappadocia half a decade later than has previously been documented, and evidence for a workshop--or variations within the same workshop--painting in five rock-cut churches located in three Cappadocian valleys.

Stephanie, Brad, Sarah and Chris spent long days in the field photographing nearly everthing and taking copious notes. They spent longer evenings--and finally two days at base camp--transcribing, labelling, comparing everything, working in teams to sum up their findings. Each bit of work contributed to the whole. By taking care of the details they allowed me the luxury of looking, and I am thankful for their diligence, dedication and grit. It will take me some time to get down to writing, as there is now so much more to research, check and double-check. It is both daunting and very, very exciting.


I initially sought to answer one question. I did, I think, find the answer, but also found many more questions. Some can be answered now, some have possible answers and some will require much more work to solve. It is quite likely that some of our observations will untangle previously tangled aspects of context, patronage and workshops in Cappdocian rock-cut churches. I can guarantee that many of our observations will raise new questions and create new tangles. I am beginning to see a pattern--or patterns, and with each question answered I will hopefully come closer to understanding the meaning of decorative programs in a distinct group of rock-cut churches. I am getting closer to hearing their original 'voices'; pinning down their raisons d'etre. For me, nothing is more rewarding. And frankly, nothing is quite as exhilarating.

My heartfelt thanks go once again to my intrepid team, who weathered my moods (generally either Mother Goose or General Sherman), my driving (and my involuntary deployment of 'colorful phrases' at moments of stress--who knew that French-manufactured cars have reverse in the upper left rather than the lower right, and that you need to pull up on a ring to get the thing into gear?) and my tendency to walk in the wrong direction with great authority.

And thank all of you who followed our blog! I hope it conveyed the joy of what we do. I certainly can't imagine doing anything else.

I leave the last words to the students--I've heard there is a blooper-reel. As our Turkish friends say: Gule Gule!

The Search for St. Simeon and Discoveries in Soğanlı

Wednesday, Chris, Sarah and I (this is Stephanie writing under Sarah’s account due to technical difficulties) took a free day while Brad and Dr. Jones returned to Ihlara Vadisi. We geared up after breakfast and went to the Zelve Valley (just east of Göreme) with the hopes of finding the rock-cut church of St. Simeon. A fresco of John Prodromos, a significant figure within Meryemana, had been identified as located in the apse of St. Simeon’s Hermitage along with Christ enthroned and the Theotokos.



The Zelve Open Air Museum is much smaller than the Göreme and Ihlara, and while the hollowed out bodies of many churches still exist there, very little paintings survive. We had a great time working our way around the semicircular valley, crawling through tunnels, and made acquaintances with the valley dog who led us through some of the more confusing trails.








After not being able to locate anything resembling the rock-cut church of St. Simeon, Chris studied our numerous maps and was able to locate a possible match a kilometer down the road in Paşabağı. Paşabağı is a smaller outcropping of fairy-chimneys and rock-cut churches. We were immediately directed to one of the rock-cut edifices containing frescoes by an itinerate carpet salesman, but we were once again stymied, as this also didn’t match our plans. Another rock-cut church bearing frescoes is located in the center of this valley, but it was locked. Yet, from what we could tell by pulling ourselves up to its gated door, it appeared as though it was indeed our St. Simeon church. We probably confused the local farmers who were tilling their fields around us as Chris shimmied and stretched his arms as far as they could reach into the gated door to photograph the inside as Sarah buttressed him from below. Feeling satisfied by our morning-long search, we trekked on to Göreme for a late lunch of gözleme, a kind of Turkish quesadilla.



Yesterday, we joined Brad and Dr. Jones as we expanded our search of rock-cut churches in Soğanlı, southeast of Avanos. The drive was harrowing, but Dr. Jones maneuvered the road hazards (children, cows, tractors, French tourists) like a professional. Here, the topography changed again as we ventured over one of the many plateaus into a green valley populated by many herds of sheep and cows that grazed on the vertical reaches of the mountain sides. Tourism was less developed here, but we were still greeted by friendly locals who served us tea (çay) and more delicious gözleme.



Here we visited a few rock-cut churches situated around a mountainside. The carving of these churches was very impressive, and one even had an exterior dome. The final rock-cut church that we visited was St. Barbara. An Eleousa donned a central lunette in the narthex, and the sanctuary was filled with familial iconography. Dr. Jones explained that the iconographic system suggests that this was a commemorative monument for a child.



The apse includes an enormous enthroned Christ surrounded by the symbols of the four evangelists. Below, two tetramorphs (seraphim surrounded by the evangelical symbols whose wings are dotted with eye motifs) flank the throne.





For me, St. Barbara’s contained some of the most beautiful frescoes I’ve yet seen here in Cappadocia. We also made friends with some Jandarm, the Turkish military—look forward to the upcoming blooper reel for photos!

Rinceaux, Elevations, and a Roman Candle. Oh my!

Our research in the field has been extremely productive since we arrived – so much so that we needed to compile and compare the raw data. Today we stayed in Avanos, at the Kirkit Pension, and worked through many of the findings gathered in the field. Once the guests cleared from breakfast, we set up camp at tables in the courtyard and in the cave, a rock-carved dining area in the basement of the pension. Dr. Jones worked outside analyzing orthography, iconographic programs, architectural forms, and stylistic similarities and differences. Sarah and Chris used the darkened cave to examine the many motifs that were photographed in this and the previous two seasons. They enlarged the images on their computers, taped a sheet of tracing paper to the screens, and recreated five different motifs shared by a number of churches. They produced over thirty drawings of rinceaux, crosses, and borders. These two-dimensional schematizations allowed Sarah and Chris to analyze similar motifs from different churches to determine whether or not the paintings were the product of the same workshop.

Stephanie used the measurements gathered from the previous two seasons and our reconstruction of the south apse over the bathroom door to create an elevation drawing. Photographing the south apse of Meryamana is impossible because there is no space in the sanctuary and the backlighting washes out all images. Photographs also complicate the distinctions in rock that is original, abraded, and missing. Stephanie’s drawing resolves these issues with an elevation that is accurate and legible. I borrowed her visual problem-solving skills to complete my work on the south, west, and east wall elevations. I also traced inscriptions in the same manner as Sarah and Chris to compare the letterforms of four churches.

At the end of the day we celebrated Sarah’s graduation with a cake custom-made by the chef at Kirkit. Its deliciousness was matched by the dramatic fashion in which it was brought to Sarah. The dining cave was filled with approximately twenty-five guests and four musicians. After dinner and between songs, the servers cut the lights and paraded the scrumptious pastry topped with three birthday candles and a roman candle. After everyone shared the treat, we ended the night with dancing. We welcomed the break after a long day of work.

Ihlara Vadisi

The ridges, valleys, and conical peaks of Cappadocia were formed by volcanic eruptions in the Tertiary Period. We have been examining the eastern regions of Cappadocia for the past three days, though today we journeyed west toward Erciyes Dağı. Ilhara Vadisi, or valley, is located here, beneath the mountain range that is the remnant of the once massive volcano. The Ihlara Valley is a gorge of volcanic rock approximately ten miles long, with over twenty rock-cut churches hollowed out of its high walls. The hike to the bottom of the vally was steep and moving through the landscape took time and careful stepping so that we were only able to explore a handful of churches. Here we continued our detailed investigations of motifs and painting styles, tracing workshops through the region.





The Ihlara rock-cut churches differ from those of Göreme, as the former are carved in the ignimbrite (lava) rather than the soft tuff (volcanic ash) of Göreme. The ignimbrite allows for more detailed and regular carving, and thus many of the churches in Ihlara are double churches.



Most of the rock-cut churches of Ihlara also differ from those of Göreme in their color palette. The Ihlara frescoes boast ochres, brick reds, oranges, and dark greens, as seen in the Yılanlı Kilise, or Snake Church. Yılanlı is thus named for its depictions of serpents torturing the damned on its western wall, and the workshop is identifiable as Armenian or Syriac. Dr. Jones showed us that this is evident not only in the style of the painting, but also in iconographical details like the split tunics of the male saints that adorn the church’s upper registers.



After much pondering, photographing, and note-taking, we refeuled on peanut butter sandwiches for the hike back up the gorge and the long drive back to Avanos. Back at our home base we are compiling notes, tracing motifs, and drawing up elevations as we prepare for the rest of the week. Check back in for our next update!

Stick Shifts, Rope Ladders, and Volcanoes

The volcanic eruptions of the nearby Hasan Dağı and Erciyes Dağı created Cappadocia’s layered strata of hard limestone and soft ash tuff. Rain run-off and the eventual cleaving of the soft rock erodes these layers and shapes the undulating forms of the region’s landscape. Flat plateaus exist alongside steep cliffs and deep valleys covered in budding apple trees, delicate wildflowers, and trickeling streams.



Despite the beauty that Cappadocia offers, these steep cliffs and deep valleys make for an interesting drive into the outlying countryside. Today we traveled by rental car in order to reach two rock-cut churches that sit high above a valley known as Zemi Deresi. The small Fiat made a valient effort to chug its way up the dusty dirt roads pocked with potholes until we had to abandon the conveniences of modern travel and continue our way up the ridge on foot.

We first met the challenges of Karabalut Kilise, whose only entrance is located about twenty feet off the ground and faces an ominous drop into the valley below. With the help of local guides, a very strong climbing rope, and a healthy dose of courage and luck, our team successfully climbed the rock face to enter the church. Though hard to reach – and honestly a little frightening to climb – Karabalut’s intriguing interior fresco program rewarded our efforts.



After our triumphal exit from Karabalut, we headed toward the nearby church known as Sarniç. The small Byzantine church was adapted in the 1950s to serve as a local water cistern. Water damage has removed the bottom ten to fifteen feet of the church’s interior frescoes and has left only the upper registers of the decorative program. The damp moss that covers the floor provided a nice cushion to our tired feet as we observed and documented the figures and decorative motifs of the church.

We ended our day in the field where we began it; among the natural beauty and oddity of Cappadocia’s landscape. As we hiked the Zemi Deresi we came across stubborn tortioses, apple blossoms, and waves of tuff and limestone. On our return hike uphill to the tiny Fiat, we were also given a clear view of the impressive snow-peaked apex of the Hasan Dağı in the distance.

The work continues as we decipher our findings and observations. We have many plans to draw, comparisons to make, and figures to identify as our hunt for Anastasia continues. Stay tuned for tomorrow’s adventures; we head toward Ihlara in the Peristrema valley to visit as many as twelve more churches. Come check-in with us tomorrow for news of our findings!

Michael and the Bathroom Door

Once in a while everything comes together through a happy circumstance of asking the right question in the right place, noting a particular image and having the knowledge to put it all together. I had such an "aha!" moment at a rock-cut-church in the valley--a possible solution to a problem of iconography for the south-east apse of Meryamana. We cut short our field day and re-grouped in my room to gather measurements taken over the previous two seasons. One difficulty is that 98% of the apse in question no longer exists, having long ago fallen into the ravine. A small fresco fragment clings to the remaining curve, confirming that the apse originally contained a depiction of the Archangel Michael. A greater problem, and one that has vexed me for two years, was the identification of the saint depcited with him. Beneath the Archangel's bit of halo, naming inscription and bit of wing is a small portion of a second halo. A scene in a second rock-cut-church offered a possible identity for the second figure--but would he fit into the space?

Stephanie, Brad, Sarah and Chris estimated size from images taken two years ago, traced images off of the computer, adjusted the scale and set about constructing the missing apse. We have limited space, so the best place to recreate the apse was around my bathroom door. Using string darkened with a black Sharpie, tracing paper and the set of measurements they created a mock two-dimensional apse, setting the figures in their relative places. The room is constructed of blocks of tufa and tape will not stick to the walls. Necessity is the mother of invention: we chewed a lot of gum, wadded it up, embedded the string in the gum, pressed the gum onto the wall and voila! An apse.

And yes, the figures fit, allowing me to extend my interpretation of the southern section of Meryamana. The pieces clicked into place and I cannot yet think of any contraindications.

Unfortunately we do not have pictures of Stephanie being 'mother'--holding out her open hand for our well-chewed gum--or of Chris having to take his back and keep chewing, just in case we needed a bit more. They kept their squeamishness (mostly) hidden, focusing on the task at hand. I've left the 'apse' up--to the puzzlement of the cleaning ladies--and ponder it daily.