Transcendence and interiority in architecture : a study of Hagia Sofia, 532-537

The late historian Robin Evans, takes up the debate symbolised between Wblfflin, proposing that meaning is directly accessible through the form of a building, and Wittkower, arguing that meaning lies behind the form of architecture, in other texts and ideas. The focus of their argument is the centralised church of the Renaissance, which holds a special place in the history of architecture for all three historians. Evans' argument makes detours into the histories of theology, geometry and mathematics attempting to find how architecture participates with these fields. He concludes that architecture, in its singular artistic physicality "suspends our disbelief in the ideal", offering a world that does not reflect culture, in all its fullness, but rather supplements culture's incompleteness. Architecture, like art is able to resolve that which in society and in other fields remains a contradiction, giving a picture (albeit fictional) of a harmonious and unified order. Does architecture aspire towards transcendence, if so, what is transcendental value in architecture? In this essay I want to turn to Hagia Sofia (Istanbul, 532-537), a church that marks the beginning of a Christian empire relocated to the East of Rome, in Constantinople, built one thousand years before the Renaissance churches; and a building that symbolises the shift towards a domed centralised form, away from a basilica form. Hagia Sofia is an architecture, observed and described in an almost devotional manner, as though addressing the architecture of the church is equivalent to a pious person addressing the church itself, and more significantly, addressing the Divine figure of God, through the architecture of the church. What role does Hagia Sofia play in the kind of artistic mastery that Evans is proposing?

Hagia Sofia (532–537AD) : a study of centrality, interiority and transcendence in architecture

The study by Robin Evans of the centralised churches of the Renaissance explores the idea of centrality, and argues that architecture does not simply invest in one geometric centre. Evans’s analysis makes detours into the histories of theology, geometry and mathematics attempting to find how architecture participates with these fields. In a footnote, he suggests that architecture in its singular artistic physicality ‘suspends our disbelief in the ideal’, offering a world that does not reflect culture, in all its fullness, but rather supplements culture’s incompleteness. This idea reiterates psychoanalytic theories of Freud and Kristeva that qualify the notion of transcendence with the psychoanalytic concept of transference. Architecture, like art, is able to resolve that which in society and in other fields remains a contradiction, giving a picture (albeit fictional) of a harmonious and unified order and wholeness. In this essay, I turn to Hagia Sofia (532–537AD) in present-day Istanbul, a church that marks the beginning of a Christian empire relocated to Constantinople, East of Rome, and built one thousand years before the Renaissance churches discussed by Evans. Hagia Sofia is a building that symbolises the shift towards a domed centralised form, away from a basilica form, and a building that develops an innovative interior. Hagia Sofia is usually observed and described in a devotional manner, as though addressing the architecture of the church is equivalent to a pious person addressing the church itself, and more significantly, addressing the Divine figure of God, through the architecture of the church. Its influence on Islamic mosque design has been noted. What rôle does Hagia Sofia play in the kind of artistic mastery that Evans is proposing, and what other dimensions of centrality and transcendence in architecture are offered by a study of Hagia Sofia?