2 The great outdoors
Liturgical encounters with the early
medieval Armenian church
Christina Maranci
Introduction
Then Solomon said: the Lord said he would reside in a dark cloud. I have built for you a
dwelling place, a seat of stability for you to reside in forever.
1 Kings 8:121
My Lord . . ., send to this church the grace of your holy spirit, and, in the manner of the
temple of Solomon, adorn and ornament it with a spiritual cloud of your glory, as thick
darkness.
The Prayer of Prince Ĵuanšēr, bk. 2, chap. 252
In his study of early medieval Armenian church inscriptions, Timothy Greenwood
noted Solomonic themes in a seventh-century account of a contemporary church
consecration by the prince Ĵuanšēr, a text contained in book 2 of Movsēs Dasxuranc‘i’s
tenth-century History of the Caucasian Albanians (Patmut’iwn Ałuanic’). At the moment
of the consecration, Ĵuanšēr prays to the Lord to fill his church with the Holy Spirit
in the form of a dark cloud, in the way that God entered the Temple of Solomon. The
use of the Prayer of Solomon for a consecration ritual is, of course, most appropriate,
and indeed, as Greenwood observes, 1 Kings 8 is read as a lection in most Eastern
Christian liturgical rites for the dedication of a church (including the Armenian).3
The
shared themes of the ecclesiastical rite and historical text, remarked on in passing by
Greenwood, form the point of departure for the present study. Considering three midseventh-century
Armenian churches, I examine relief sculpture, epigraphy, and
architectural settings in relation to early Armenian ritual, with particular attention to
the hagiopolite, or Jerusalemic, meanings produced through a liturgical encounter with
the Armenian church facade.
In so doing, there are several challenges that I face. The inherent difference between
an abstract representation of organized movement and a specific physical setting hamper
any straightforward application of texts to monument. Nor can we be sure that the
rites, as preserved in the texts, existed at the time that the churches were constructed.
Yet in my view it is a graver error to cast these texts aside because they cannot be
grafted perfectly onto the architectural evidence. As early, if not contemporary,
documentation for the experience of the church building, they allow us precious insight
into the symbolic meanings of the church, as evoked through prayer, hymns, and
movement.4
Early medieval Armenian church 33
That Jerusalem in particular should be evoked through the liturgy is not at all
surprising. Scholars have filled many volumes dealing with the Armenian experience
of the Holy City, whether as a real or an imagined place.5
Jerusalem was home to a
community of Armenians from at least the fifth century, and the sixth and seventh
centuries saw increased Armenian pilgrimage to and settlement in the region, as
attested by written sources, epigraphy, and archaeological evidence. The seventhcentury
Geography attributed to Anania Širakac‘i referred to Jerusalem at “the center
of all,” like many medieval geographies, and to Armenia as the “northern region.”6
Seventh-century Armenian sources chronicle events in the city and their reception at
home; they also include extraordinarily detailed descriptions of the holy places and
relics and an abiding concern for the monuments, their destruction at the hands of the
Persians, and their subsequent renewal. The central role of Jerusalem in the Armenian
liturgy is demonstrated by the Armenian Lectionary, a precious fifth-century text
preserving in detail the rites celebrated in the Holy City. The subject of much scholarly
attention, this text offered to congregations in early medieval Armenia an imaginative
topography of Jerusalem in which they could commemorate and enact Christ’s Passion.7
For these reasons, scholars have long understood the built culture of early medieval
Armenia in terms of Jerusalem. Armen Kazaryan has drawn parallels between images
of the tomb aedicula of Christ, with its peaked roof and twisted columns, and the
design of the drum that crowned the Cathedral of Vałaršapat.8
The same scholar drew
a persuasive comparison between the aedicula and the liturgical furniture at the church
of Zuart‘noc‘, as we will discuss below. The most thoroughgoing hagiopolite interpretation
of Armenian architecture is La Jérusalem nouvelle et les premiers sanctuaires
chrétiens de l’Arménie, in which Nazénie Garibian de Vartavan suggests that the layout
of the churches in the holy cities of Vałaršapat and Mtskheta in Georgia is based on
the topography of the principal holy sites in Jerusalem.9
The liturgical dimension of this discussion has received little attention. Yet in light
of the nature of Armenian architecture and early medieval ritual directives, the
opportunities for its examination are rich. The prominent exterior position of relief
sculpture and epigraphy on Armenian monuments invites us to reflect on the possible
role of the exterior facades, as well as the church interior, in shaping the experience
of the early medieval churchgoer. As we will see, this encounter was inherently multisensory
and kinetic, requiring seeing and reading, singing, climbing, carrying, and
smelling (the anointed walls), and as such offers an important tool for interpreting the
many engraved and sculpted church exteriors of the Armenian architectural tradition.
In undertaking this task, I make use of the scholarship on the rite of the Armenian
church consecration and the Hymns (or šarakans) of the Holy Cross, as well as the
aforementioned fifth-century Armenian Lectionary.
Mastara
Mastara (also known as Mazdara) is one of more than seventy seventh-century churches
preserved from the regions of historic Armenia, today divided among the Republic of
Armenia, the Republic of Arc‘ax (Mountainous Łarabał), eastern Turkey, Azerbaijan,
and northern Iran (Figure 2.1).10
Located in the Aragacotn Province of the Armenian
Republic, Mastara is dated by its epigraphy to between about 640 and 650. As is
typical of Armenian and Georgian architecture, it is constructed of rubble masonry,
consisting of a thick core of mortar and fieldstone faced by squared, well-joined slabs
of tuff. The exterior is strongly geometric, dominated by the tall central mass, and
elevated on a stylobate. The plan is centralized, with a large dome set into the corners
of a square bay, from which four conches project (Figure 2.2).11
The dome is set on
squinches, and the interior is defined by the rhythm of apsidal curvatures, squinches,
and smaller squinches above.
Four inscriptions on the exterior of the church attest to the historical circumstances
of its construction. On the western section of the southern elevation, a fragmentary
text reads, “Of the month Arac‘ [day 14] at the consecration of this holy church and
to the memory of bishop . . . [illegible words of uncertain number].”12
Another is
located on the southern facade, on the central (southern) facet of the projecting apse,
above and on the arched frame of the window over the entrance: “In the years of Lord
T‘edoros bishop of Gnunik‘ this holy house was built to expiate the unworthy Grigoras.
Christ God, be compassionate to Grigoras sinner and to me Kep’[. . .] and [–]”13
On
the western elevation, on its southern part, a text reads:
I thank God who permitted me Grēgoras Siwni and beloved nephew Grigor to
build a house of glory and through this made me . . . [illegible words] bishop of
Apahunik‘. This is a refuge [apawēn] for Mazdara, a place of prayer for the faithful,
a place of expiation for sinners, and a memorial for me and for mine. And you
who pray, remember us. . . .14
34 Christina Maranci
Figure 2.1 Church of Mastara, Republic of Armenia, ca. 630, view of the exterior from the west.
Photograph: Wikimedia Commons.
Putting together this information, historians have surmised that the church was
constructed during the episcopate of T‘eodoros Gnuni (c. 645) by the monk Grigoras
Siwni and his nephew, for the expiation of their sins and as a refuge for Mazdara. We
are also provided with a date of Arac‘ 14 (November 30) for the date of consecration.15
On the west facade, a fourth inscription has been given particular visual emphasis
(Figure 2.3). It appears within a blind arcade over the west window. The text is
arranged around and below a sculpted cross on a pedestal. Although the cross is badly
weathered, we can see clearly its stepped podium, the flared ends of its arms, and what
seem to be tendrils or wings extending from its base. The inscription reads as follows:
( ) ( )
( )
( )
(Through God’s augment of Grigoras the monk this cathedral was built as a refuge
for Mazdara. The bride crowned with the cross-signed crown has as bridegroom
Christ and as bridal companions the apostles, prophets and martyrs. Keep Mazdara
prosperous and save Grigoras)
As Greenwood pointed out, the reference to the “bridegroom of Christ” is from John
3:29.16
The same imagery, with greater emphasis, also occurs in two Armenian ritual
contexts: the rite of consecration and, much more robustly, the sequence of hymns
devoted to the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.
Early medieval Armenian church 35
Figure 2.2 Church of Mastara, plan.
Photograph: Wikimedia Commons.
36 Christina Maranci
Figure 2.3 Church of Mastara, west facade inscription.
Photograph: Wikimedia Commons.
Figure 2.4 Church of Mastara, schematic drawing of west facade inscription with sculpted cross.
Drawing by author.
A 1998 study of the Armenian church dedication service by Michael Daniel Findikyan
invites us to meditate on the liturgical imagery of the engraved portal and its potential
ritual context. Findikyan collated three early textual accounts of this rite: a maštoc‘, or
ritual, probably of the late ninth century, and two allegorical commentaries on the consecration
rite, both dating to the first half of the eighth century, one by Yovhannēs Ōjnec‘i
and the other attributed to Step‘anos Siwnec‘i.17
All three of the texts prescribe the withdrawal
from the church building and the performance of exterior services equipped with a
cross. First, the altar table is carried out of the church, as the congregation gathers around
it singing psalms, after which the altar table is reinstalled within the church and elevated
to the bema. The next exterior unit is the “Naming of the Church” and the blessing of
the exterior walls. At this point, the clergy and congregation depart the monument, and
the bishop declares in whose name it has been erected, making a circuit around the
church. The allegorical commentary attributed to Step‘anos Siwnec‘i further mentions
“tracing the Lord with the cross” on the exterior and anointing the four sides of the
building. This exterior moment is felicitous in light of the exterior epigraphy of Mastara.
We can find in these texts nuptial imagery. During the Introit, when the congregation
and clergy approach the door of the church carrying the altar, the bishop traces the
sign of the cross over the door and then opens it. Ōjnec‘i, observes the appropriateness
of this action: “for by the cross Christ opened the entrance to paradise and to the
heavenly bridal chamber [erknayin aṙagasan].” This interpretation of the Introit of the
church consecration thus offers a fitting liturgical moment for the Mastara portal,
which not only contains the nuptial and cross imagery but also is located over the
western door of the church: on the threshold, therefore, of “the heavenly bridal chamber.”
Another text warrants attention in this regard. Findikyan does not include it in his
reconstruction of the rite, because presumably it did not occur in any of the three early
medieval texts he used, but it is one of two hymns appended to the rite as recorded
by Frederick Cornwallis Conybeare. Conybeare tells us that the text is drawn from
three manuscripts of the Ganjaran, or Book of Canticles: the first, in BM Or. 2609,
entitled “A Canticle of the Shołakat’ [lit. effusion of light] of the Consecration of the
Holy Church”; the second, in BM Or. 2608, where the text is called the “Canon of
the Holy Ark and Ecumenical Church”; and finally in the third, Vienna Mekhitarists
MS 133, where it is titled “A Canticle of the Holy Church.” The index of this final
manuscript, Conybeare comments, “ascribes this canticle to one Mkrtitch, who perhaps
in the thirteenth century compiled it out of earlier material.”18
While we cannot be at
all sure that this hymn in its preserved form dates from the early Middle Ages, nor
that it was sung at the dedication rite, it is rife with bridal imagery:
Daughter of Ancient Sion, receiver of the message, to thee the Bridegroom Christ
hath condescended, bringing thee an unfading wreath, by will of Father and of
Spirit crowned. Lo, the Bride gorgeously arrayed in her glory goes forth to meet
the Lord the King who is come out to meet (her). Into the Holy pavilion invited,
The Bridegroom Christ, the Sovereign, is arrived. The children of the Church
encircle him and utter songs of praise . . .19
The crowned bride, we are then told in the following passage, is accompanied by the
twelve apostles, the holy prophets, the holy pontiffs, and the blood of the holy martyrs—
an ensemble of figures that brings to mind the Mastara inscription, with its crowned
bride and her companions, the “apostles, prophets, and martyrs.”20
Early medieval Armenian church 37
38 Christina Maranci
We find the greatest liturgical parallels with the inscription, however, in the many
hymns sung during the Feasts of the Cross as observed already by Patrick Donabédian
in a footnote to his discussion of the church of Mastara in a study of 2008.21
These
hymns, studied in depth by Athanase Renoux, have much more recently formed the
focus of publications by Findikyan, and I provide here a selection of pertinent passages
from his English translations.
Canon for the Dedication of the Holy Cross
4. At the newly-marvelous Dedication in Jerusalem [
] your cross was shown to us in radiant majesty, O Lord, God of our
fathers. . . . A queen stands on the right, the holy Church, crowned in gold braids,
in the sign of your cross [ ], O God of our fathers. . . .22
5. Bless the Lord and exalt him forever.
For the holy Church is betrothed to Christ. The heavenly bridegroom has crowned
her with the cross; to the left and to the right it takes wing, making heirs of
nations.23
19. Faithful people, let us always sing a triumphant and new blessing in the highest
to Christ the king. Who came to illuminate his chosen, holy church. And he crowned
her with his holy cross. Let us sing his glory. Today we too celebrate the Dedication
[of] the Holy Cross. And to the Saviour we offer glory and honor forever.24
39. The Heavenly Bridegroom has come near you. Granting your salvation, he
has crowned you with his wondrous glory.25
41. Rejoice O Holy Church, for Christ the king of heaven today has crowned you
with his cross, and he has adorned your fortress with his wondrous glory. . . .
With the choirs of the heavenly hosts, we celebrate today and lift up unceasing
glorification. Be glad, immaculate Bride, in your inscrutable mystery.26
As in John 3:29, the texts above refer to the bride (hars) and the bridegroom (p‘esa);
the hymns, unlike the biblical text, indicate that the Church is the bride. In no fewer
than four of the verses, the bride is crowned with, or with the sign of, the cross. In
the hymns this is rendered as “nšxanaw xač‘i psakeal”; in the Mastara inscription, as
“xač’anšxan t’agaw psakeal.”
At Mastara, the bas-relief cross dominates the center of the composition both visually
and thematically (Figure 2.4). The text is positioned in lines on either side of the form,
requiring the viewer to pass over the cross in order to make sense of the names
“Grigoras” and “Mazdara.” In the latter case, the Z ( ) is engraved into the base of
the stepped podium, constituting a kind of decorative form.
By its position at the base of the cross and its circular shape, this letter might have
also reminded the spectator of the “place of the skull,” or, literally, Golgotha. As
mentioned, the cross above it is of the Latin type, with flared arms, a form widely
known from early Byzantine and Armenian metalwork and sculpture. Because of its
base, it further resembles what is variously called a stepped, graded, or Calvary cross,
the last term making clear reference to the mound on Golgotha where the shrine of
the Crucixion is located. In seventh-century Byzantine art, this stepped-cross type is
used on the solidi of the Byzantine emperor Heraclius in reference to his victorious
restoration of the True Cross to Jerusalem in 630—an event to which we will return
in a later section. In other ways, the Mastara cross resembles Armenian stone crosses
of the same era, such as those from T‘alin and Duin, from the base of which project
a pair of tendrils or wings. A hymnographic reading of the Mastara cross, I would
argue, invites the latter interpretation: recall the imagery of the bridegroom crowning
the bride with a cross that “to the left and to the right . . . takes wing [ew yaǰ ew
yaheak t‘ṙowc‘eal].” The coordination of the cross and text certainly support, in my
view, Donabédian’s passing observation on the source of the Mastara inscription.
These correspondences allow us to imagine the inscription and, more broadly, the
church’s west and south walls as settings appropriate to the hymns sung on the Dedication
of the Cross.
It is relevant, then, to consider Findikyan’s further arguments regarding the date
and origins of these hymns. While they are often dated by tradition to early eighthcentury
Armenia, Findikyan suggests that their content, arrangement, and vocabulary
indicate a much earlier date and, in a related point, their associations with the Dedication
of the Holy Places of Jerusalem (the Encaenia).27
That is, in Findikyan’s view, they
were originally sung to commemorate the Encaenia and then later became associated
with the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross.28
The evidence he brings forward is compelling;
the hymns make mention, as we have seen, of the “newly-marvelous Dedication
in Jerusalem” and are rife with ecclesiological and architectural imagery.29
Further, the
dates of the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross coincide precisely with those of
the Encaenia (seven days beginning September 13). Findikyan finally observes that the
term “cross” that occurs in the hymns could have referred to the shrine of Golgotha
—and not the cross itself as a relic—as it was used in the account of the fourthcentury
pilgrim Egeria, in the fifth-century Armenian Lectionary and in the tenth century
Georgian Book of Hymns (Iadgari). 30
We cannot know, of course, how much of this putative hagio-dedicatory meaning
would have resonated in seventh-century Armenia nor, more particularly, at the church
of Mastara. But it is tantalizing to think that these early festal hymns were sung on
the day and subsequent anniversaries of the consecration of Mastara, and that they
evoked the dedication of the holy places in Jerusalem. For the consecration of a church,
such imagery would be both entirely appropriate and historically compelling, to judge
from Ĵuanšēr’s evocation of Solomon’s Temple with which we began. What seems
certain is that consideration of the early ritual sources opens up new ways to interpret
Armenian church walls, and that the thematic parallels drawn above, interesting in
their own right, also point toward a powerful experience of the church, not only in
visual but also in aural terms.
Zuart‘noc‘
The church of Zuart‘noc‘ was constructed as part of the residence of Nersēs III, patriarch
of Armenia between about 641 and 661 (Figure 2.5). This structure collapsed in an
earthquake in the early eleventh century but is well documented by contemporary
sources and preserved archaeological remains. Built to commemorate a heavenly vision
of Gregory, the patron saint of Armenia, the structure is closely tied to the country’s
sacred landscape. Yet, as many have pointed out, it also shows familiarity with the
cultural traditions of Byzantine Constantinople, Syria and Mesopotamia, and the Holy
Land. The program of epigraphy includes not only Armenian but also Greek, signaling,
Early medieval Armenian church 39
many believe, the close relations Nersēs held with the Byzantine Empire. Most interesting
in the present context is the unique plan of the church (Figure 2.6). The inner shell
consists of a series of columnar exedrae (the earliest established example in the Southern
Caucasus) joined by large, W-shaped piers, which once supported the dome. This
tetraconchal shell was enveloped by a quasi-circular perimeter wall. The entire structure
was elevated on a tall pedestal of seven steps, broad enough to accommodate a walkway
around the exterior walls of the church.
While many scholars have drawn attention to the aisled tetraconchal shape of
Zuart‘noc‘ and its relations to the Syrian and Mesopotamian monuments of the same
type, the circular plan of the monument finds its most obvious prototype in the martyria
of the Holy Land, above all, the Anastasis Rotunda. Completed by 336 to shelter the
traditional site of Christ’s burial and resurrection, this structure formed the focal point
of Christian Jerusalem and, indeed, of medieval Christendom more generally. The
formal resemblances of the Anastasis Rotunda and Zuart‘noc‘ have already elicited
commentary from scholars either in passing or in more depth.31
In the mid-twentieth
century, Step‘an Mnac‘akanyan was the first to connect the two monuments; the
relationship was recognized also by L. Durnovo, who in a 1952 essay speculated about
the possibility of Jerusalemic imagery in the applied arcades of early medieval Armenian
architecture (and also in the design of canon tables in manuscripts).32
Recently, Dora
Piguet-Panayotova, Zaruhi Hakobyan, Nazénie Garibian de Vartavan, and Armen
Kazaryan have produced more comprehensive examinations of the problem. PiguetPanayotova
has suggested that the Anastasis Rotunda provided the “fundamental
elements” of Zuart‘noc‘. Accepting the reconstruction of Zuart‘noc‘ by T‘oros
T‘oramanyan, she argued that both monuments shared the form of superimposed
40 Christina Maranci
Figure 2.5 Church of Zuart‘noc‘, Republic of Armenia, ca. 641–ca. 661, aerial view.
Photograph courtesy of Hrair Hawk Khatcherian.
cylinders, the first enclosing the ambulatory, and the second enclosing a gallery level.33
She also drew a correlation between the Ionic basket capitals at the rotunda and on
the Temple Mount with those of Zuart‘noc‘. More recently, Kazaryan proposed a
reconstruction of the liturgical space of Zuart‘noc‘ based on existing archaeological
materials at the church. He envisioned a partitioned enclosure under the domed space
of the church and surrounding the cylindrical cavity at its center.34
From the measurements
of this crypt, Kazaryan surmised that a cylindrical stone object at the site,
previously thought to be an ambo, was originally positioned over the cylindrical pit
in the center of the church. This construction, in his view, was designed to mark the
relics of Saint Gregory, and, judging from its form, was inspired by the Holy Sepulchre.
The exterior sculpture of Zuart‘noc‘ has also been linked to the image of Jerusalem
(Figure 2.7). The arcades of the first tier are composed of double colonnettes crowned
with capitals from which spring molded arched frames adorned with a rinceau of
grape bunches and leaves. Above the rinceau, a large sculpted field displays moregrapevines,
bunches of fruit, and trees with straight branches from which pomegranates
hang. A horizontal stringcourse limits this zone, above which appear oculi framed by
diverse ornamented moldings. The first tier of the building is crowned, finally, with
a cornice that includes a running band of strapwork.
Early medieval Armenian church 41
Figure 2.6 Church of Zuart‘noc‘, plan.
T‘oros T‘oramanyan, in Josef Strzygowski, Die Baukunst der Armenier und Europa (Vienna: Anton Schroll,
1918), 113, fig. 112.
Donabédian associates the decoration of the exterior arcade of Zuart‘noc‘ with the
Temple of Solomon.35
He has put forward the descriptions of the temple in 1 Kings
7 and 2 Chronicles 4:12–13 as possible inspiration for the vegetal and interlace imagery
of Armenian churches.36
The Zuart‘noc‘ arcade certainly provides an extraordinarily
dense and copious array of associations with the temple, particularly as detailed in the
book of Kings:37
And he made two covering lattices for the capital and also two covering lattices
for the second capital, and hanging work.
And bronze pomegranates in a grating, a hanging work, row upon row. And in
that way he made the second capital.
And on the tops of the columns, there was lily work, four cubits long, near the
arcade.38
Although the specific spatial relations of the building elements in this passage cannot
be made to conform to the exterior of Zuart‘noc‘, we should nevertheless recognize
the coincidence of three motifs: the latticework, the pomegranate, and the lily form of
the arcade capitals.39
If much ink has been spilled on the hagiopolite associations of the exterior facade
of Zuart‘noc‘, the degree to which certain ritual contexts would have activated these
meanings has received little attention. As with the facade at Mastara, I propose a
scenario in which this perimeter wall formed part of the physical setting for the
42 Christina Maranci
Figure 2.7 Church of Zuart‘noc‘, fragments of the first tier laid out on the ground.
Photograph by author.
performance of hymns sung during the rite of the church consecration. We have already
mentioned the procession of entry into the church with the altar. This procession is
accompanied by Psalms 119–21: Psalm 119, “In my distress I cry to the Lord”; Psalm
120, “I lifted up my eyes to the hills, from whence my help comes”; and Psalm 121,
“I was glad when they said to me, ‘Let us go to the house of the Lord!’ Our feet have
been standing within your gates, O Jerusalem!”40
Findikyan points out that Yovhannēs
Ōjnec‘i refers to these three psalms as “gradual psalms [sałmosk‘ astijanac‘]”and
suggests that this may reflect the general belief that they were sung by pilgrims climbing
Mount Zion to the Temple of Solomon.41
The concept of ascent, he continues, is
illustrated in the “crescendo from abject despair, through acknowledgement of God as
protector to rejoicing for having arrived at Jerusalem.”42
One can imagine how effective
such a psalmody would be while climbing the steep podium of Zuart‘noc‘: the themes
of the psalms, the built landscape, and the accompanying physical movement would
have worked together to re-create the experience of pilgrimage to the Holy Land.
The bas-relief human figures within the spandrels of Zuart‘noc‘ may also be understood
within this context (Figure 2.8). Eleven are preserved, all holding tools of various sorts.
Forming an unusual (although not unprecedented) iconographic subject for the era and
region, they have been variously interpreted as holy persons or (mystifyingly) as patrons.
Some have proposed that they represent Saint Gregory and the pagan king Trdat building
Early medieval Armenian church 43
Figure 2.8 Church of Zuart‘noc‘, fragment of figural bas-reliefs.
Photograph by author.
44 Christina Maranci
the first Christian shrines in Armenia—a passage that forms part of the fifth-century
conversion story. Their costume, their lack of halos, the specific tools they hold, and
the fact that they are shown actually in the process of working on the spandrels,
encourages, in my view, a direct interpretation as a team of builders and workers.
But whether or not we wish to assign to them specific and stable identities, one
ought also to consider how the performance of the consecration rite could have inflected
their interpretation by the medieval churchgoer. Directly after the singing of Psalms
119–21, another Psalm, 117, is sung three times, after clergy and congregation have
processed toward the church and arrived at its doors. The psalm is first recited outside
the door, and then is repeated until verse 19: “Open to us the gate of mercy.” This
verse is repeated three times, the sign of the cross is made over the door, and the
bishop intones verse 20: “This is the door of the Lord and only the righteous shall
enter.” Then, finally, Psalm 117 is repeated and the bishop and clergy enter. Verse 22
is of particular relevance to the Zuart‘noc‘ imagery: “the stone which the builders
rejected has become the cornerstone of the church.”
Recognizing the general appropriateness of this psalm, with its imagery of entrance
and its mention of builders, Findikyan has called it an “ideal accompaniment to the
procession into the newly-built church.” For Zuart‘noc‘ in particular, the sung themes
of lifting up the eyes, arriving at the gates of Jerusalem, and builders and stones would
have accorded well with the visual program of the church. Unlike the larger, strongly
projecting vegetal forms of the facade, the builders are carved in shallow relief, and
indeed are most clearly apprehended from close to the wall surface. This suits the
liturgical prescription to sing verse 22 just at the entrance to the church, following the
gradual psalms describing the approach to Jerusalem. In this way, the eyes and ears
of the early medieval participant were filled with the evocation of the Holy City just
as their bodies, after a procession to any one of the five entrances of Zuart‘noc‘—
whether undertaken by circumambulation around the building on its paved walkway
or by climbing the steep steps of the podium—had undergone physical work akin to
that of pilgrimage.43
Finally, it is noteworthy that Psalm 117 itself was sung by pilgrims in Jerusalem,
as described by the fifth-century Armenian Lectionary. At the end of his discussion
of Psalm 117 in the consecration rite, Findikyan mentions that it is prescribed with
varying refrains in three contexts: during a procession from the house of Caiaphas to
Golgotha during the vigil of Holy Friday, during the Paschal vigil preceding the lections,
and, most relevant to the present argument, during a procession from the Mount of
Olives to the Anastasis (Surb Hariwt‘iwn—Holy Resurrection) on Palm Sunday.
In this last processional, the Lectionary makes clear the action of the participants as
“descending” and “psalm-singing [sałmoselov].”44
How much of this was known to
the churchgoer in early medieval Armenia cannot be ascertained. Yet it is possible
to argue that when sung in the approach to Zuart‘noc‘, Psalm 117 formed part of a
coherent and multidimensional hagiopolite experience, generated not just by the round
shape of the church, its sculpted walls, or the thematic content of the psalm but also
by the association of the psalm with pilgrims processing to the Anastasis Rotunda.
The church of Mren and the liturgical image
The seventh-century church of Mren is located in what is now eastern Turkey in a
military zone next to the closed Armenian border (Figure 2.9).45
Mren is well known
to historians of Byzantium and Armenia: dating to about 638, its epigraphy asserts interactions
between the emperor Heraclius and the Armenian nobility and to the imperial goal
of consolidating the eastern frontier against Persian attack.46
Mren is additionally famous
for its sculpted reliefs, one of which deserves special mention. On the north facade is
a portal with a lintel (at present, unsupported and unsecured on its left side) bearing
images of a horse, a tree, three human figures, and a central cross (Figure 2.10).
While each of the forms on the lintel is fairly easy to discern, deciphering the meaning
of their combination has sustained decades of debate. Many of the earliest theories
associated the lintel with a princely scene, making particular reference to the presence
of the horse.47
In 1966, Minas Sargsyan suggested that it depicts a church foundation,
enacted by the cleric and nobles named and portrayed on the west portal.48
In 1971
and more fully in 1997, Nicole Thierry detailed a series of problems with Sargsyan’s
argument and proposed instead that the scene represents the return of the True Cross
to Jerusalem by Heraclius in 630.49
Signaling the invocation of the “triumphant
[bareyałt’oł] King Heraclius” on the west portal inscription, Thierry identifies the
emperor as the left-hand figure on the lintel, honoring a cross intended to symbolize
the relic. The larger censing figure at right represents, in her view, Modestos, bishop
of Jerusalem, who received the relic from Heraclius. This interpretation has attracted
the support of many Armenologists and Byzantinists, and I have recently adduced
more evidence for this argument in the form of two early medieval Latin accounts of
Early medieval Armenian church 45
Figure 2.9 Church of Mren, Kars Province, Republic of Turkey, 638, view from the southwest.
Photograph by author.
the Return of the Cross, which offer a textual explanation for the unusual representation
of Heraclius without crown or diadem and dismounted.50
Yet this identification does not account fully for the lintel at Mren or, more specifically,
the strong ritual character of the scene.51
The large incense burner, at the backswing
of its movement, is a type well known from contemporary Byzantine examples in
bronze. The composition focuses our gaze on the central cross, which is addressed by
all the figures. With decorative branches at the corners of each arm, the cross, like
that of Mastara, bears the morphology of late antique and early medieval examples
from Byzantium and Armenia, known both from metalwork and from pictorial
representation.52
These features led Nicole Thierry to regard the scene at Mren as an
“imaginative and reduced” image of the return of the Cross by Heraclius, one that
fused the historical event with ritual meaning.53
Again, the dedication rite is of particular value in understanding the church facades,
and especially the procession of reentry accompanied by Psalms 119–21.54
For a
worshipper approaching the north portal at Mren, the imagery of the psalmody would
have been particularly germane. Singing the first-person lines, “I lifted up my eyes to
the hills, from whence my help comes,” the participants’ gaze would have traveled
from the altar stone, removed from the church interior, to the portal, where it would
be met by the central cross, supplicants, and the magnificent sculpted tree on its mound.
As the words were sung, the visitor’s eyes would, truly, be “lifted” to the scene on
the portal. While we cannot be sure that this rite was performed at Mren, it is nevertheless
instructive that at an early date in the formation of the Armenian liturgy, a procession
into the church was understood in terms of entry into Jerusalem.
46 Christina Maranci
Figure 2.10 Church of Mren, north facade portal lintel.
Photograph by author.
The northern position of the portal also holds special significance in this context.
Of the lateral sides of the church in early medieval Armenian architecture, the south,
rather than the north, facade was typically preferred for access and epigraphy.55
By
contrast, at Mren, moving south through the north portal oriented the spectator not
only toward the sacred space of the church but also, at least symbolically, toward
Jerusalem.56
This axis of approach could have evoked the arrivals of Christ and, later,
Heraclius to the holy city. Such a procession would also have followed the southward
progress of the Heraclian campaigns of 627 to 628, which descended via the Axurean
river valley, quite near Mren, into Persian territory: an operation whose success led
ultimately to the surrender of the holy relics to the Byzantines.57
The north portal may
thus have recalled, at once, memories of recent military campaigns, of the imperial
adventus, and of the sacred narratives of the Holy Land. The city gate, although absent
in the bas-relief, may be interpreted as the architectural threshold. While the medieval
church portal has long been viewed as a topos for the gates to the holy city, the north
portal at Mren, particularly when read together with the Armenian liturgy of dedication,
presents an early and forceful expression of this concept.
Conclusion
I have sought to understand Armenian architectural facades through liturgical rite.
At Mastara, the sculpted cross and surrounding inscription were presented in relation
to the liturgy of church dedication, with its bridal themes, and also in relation to the
hymns of the cross, themselves recently connected to the archetypal Christian dedication
service: the Jerusalem Encaenia. At Zuart‘noc‘, a monument already associated strongly
by scholars with the Temple of Solomon and the Rotunda of Jerusalem, the Introit of
the dedication rite would have compounded themes of the pilgrimage to and within
the holy city. The participant approached the church while singing of the arrival at the
gates of Jerusalem (Pss. 119–21), and at the doors of the church, he or she would sing
of the “builders” in Psalm 117. In this context, the ritual directives would have attuned
the participant to an experience of Jerusalem through the combined effects of processing,
singing, and seeing. At Mren, a sculpted lintel on the north portal may also be interpreted
in view of the triple psalmody of the Introit. In the case of this church, associated with
the emperor Heraclius and the return of the True Cross, such a procession may be
considered to contain a powerful timeliness, simultaneously recalling to the worshipper
multiple periods in the history of Jerusalem, from the time of Christ to the contemporary
moment.
Of course, these are not the only ways to understand the imagery of the churches.
Indeed, the exercise undertaken here raises the question about what visual interpretation
means and entails. A liturgical act takes place through time, which opens the possibility
for a temporary or temporarily heightened meaning of an image. For example, the
builders found on the arcade of Zuart‘noc‘ might have been intended to represent
Gregory and Trdat, or perhaps the actual building team who worked at the church.
But when forming the backdrop for the rite of entry into the church, they would have
echoed and, one may argue, been imbued with the architectural imagery of Psalm 117,
inviting us to consider the process in the language of the psalms, and their performance
in procession inflected, if for a few moments, the visual imagery of the church. When
we remember that the verses were sung at the walls of the church and prescribed with
modulations in volume, we can imagine a powerful moment of transformation, much
Early medieval Armenian church 47
like the liturgy of consecration as a whole, when the building yard became a holy
place. Surely it is in just such a moment that archetypal holy places would be evoked
in the mind, as they were for Prince Ĵuanšēr.
It is also worth underscoring the distinctive nature of the exterior ritual acts undertaken
for the Armenian church consecration and, at the same time, the distinctiveness of the
early medieval Armenian and Georgian exteriors. Regarding the former, Findikyan
notes that the exterior canons are not derived from Byzantine liturgy, which contains
no equivalent exterior movement. In his examination of the exterior wraparound
inscriptions on Armenian churches, Greenwood was also unable to find parallels in
early Byzantine or Umayyad architecture. I have also underlined the strong “exteriority”
of Armenian monuments, produced not only through exterior relief sculpture and
inscriptions but also through high podia, porticoes, exterior niches, paved walkways
and plazas, and nearby stela monuments.58
Could it be that these features reflect the
desire to generate an exterior landscape akin to Jerusalem, or a place to perform
processional rites such as those prescribed in the Armenian Lectionary of Jerusalem?
One is struck by how many times pilgrims are described in this text as approaching,
climbing, descending, and gathering and/or singing “before [aṙajin]” the church. These
are tantalizing questions without ready answers. What is certain, however, is that the
preserved liturgical texts are among the most powerful, if largely neglected tools for
interpreting Armenian church exteriors.59
Notes
1 1 Kings 8:12 (Zohrab ed.), my translation.
2 Patmut’iwn Ałuanic’ Ašxarhi, ed. Nikolai Emin (Moscow: Lazarean Institute, 1860), 149, trans.
C. J. F. Dowsett as “The Prayer of Prince Ĵuanšēr,” bk. 2, chap. 25 of, History of the Caucasian
Albanians, by Movsēs Dasxuranc‘i (London: Oxford University Press, 1961), 121.
3 Timothy Greenwood, “A Corpus of Early Medieval Armenian Inscriptions,” Dumbarton Oaks
Papers 58 (2004): 27–91 at 56n138.
4 Consideration of the multisensory experience of the Byzantine church interior has emerged in
recent decades. See Bissera V. Pentcheva, “Hagia Sophia and the Multisensory Experience,”
Gesta 50, no. 2 (2011): 93–114.
5 See, generally, the scholarship of Michael E. Stone, Abraham Terian, and Robert W. Thomson.
The last author has produced an essay with useful bibliography on the topic: “Jerusalem and
Armenia,” in Papers of the Ninth International Conference on Patristic Studies, Oxford, 1983,
ed. E. A. Livingstone (Kalamazoo, MI: Cistercian Publications, 1985), 77–91.
6 The Geography of Ananias of Širak: Ašxarhacoyc, the Long and the Short Recensions, trans.
and comm. Robert H. Hewsen (Wiesbaden: Dr. Ludwig Reichert, 1992), 46.
7 See, above all, Athanase Renoux, Le Codex Arménien Jérusalem 121, Patrologia Orientalis,
vol. 35, fasc. 1 and vol. 36, fasc. 2 (Turnhout: Brepols, 1969–71).
8 Armen Kazaryan, “The Chancel and Liturgical Space in the Church of Zuart‘noc‘” [in Russian],
in Ikonostas: Proiskhozhdenie, Razvitie, Simvolika, ed. Alexei M. Lidov (Moscow: ProgressTraditsiia,
2000), 85–117, at 99.
9 Nazénie Garibian de Vartavan, La Jérusalem nouvelle et les premiers sanctuaires chrétiens de
l’Arménie (Erevan: Isis Pharia, 2009).
10 Any effort toward a precise count is, of course, fraught; various numbers can be derived, depending
on the size of the territory considered, the ways in which the monuments are dated, the decision
to include monuments known only from literary sources, and the states of renovation. My number
is based in part on the catalog of Patrick Donabédian, focusing on the Armenian monuments,
who suggests that between 630 and 690, “leur nombre pourrait s’élever à une soixantaine pour
ces six décennies. . . .” (L’âge d’or de l’architecture arménienne [Marseilles: Parenthèsis, 2008],
275). When we add to this number monuments attributed to the sixth century, the number grows
to more than seventy.
48 Christina Maranci
11 A type also known from the churches of Artik, Voskepar, and Har˙ič.
12 Greenwood, “A Corpus of Early Medieval Armenian Inscriptions,” 86, inscription 10.4, fig. 10.4.
13 Greenwood, “A Corpus,” 84, inscription 10.1.
14 Greenwood, “A Corpus,” 84–85, inscription 10.2, fig. 10.2.
15 Greenwood, “A Corpus,” 86.
16 Indeed, Greenwood (“A Corpus,” 39) sees this as a reference to John, to whom the church is
dedicated, “the apostle, prophet, and martyr, who is ‘the companion of the bridegroom,’ Christ
himself.” But this is contested by Patrick Donabédian (L’âge d’or de l’architecture arménienne,
156n222) who places apostle/prophet/martyr in the plural and thereby makes them the companions
at the wedding. (In classical Armenian, the -s ending can indicate either a declined or a plural
noun.)
17 Michael Daniel Findikyan, “The Armenian Liturgy of Dedicating a Church: A Textual and
Comparative Analysis of Three Early Sources,” Orientalia Christiana Periodica 64, no. 1 (1998):
75–121.
18 Frederick Cornwallis Conybeare, ed. and trans., and Rev. A. J. Maclean, trans., Rituale Armenorum:
Being the Administration of the Sacraments and the Breviary Rites of the Armenian Church
Together with the Greek Rites of Baptism and Epiphany (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1905) 19.
19 Conybeare and Maclean, Rituale Armenorum, 20 (emphasis mine).
20 Conybeare and Maclean, Rituale Armenorum, 21.
21 “Dans les hymnes liturgiques liées aux célébrations de la croix, est plusieurs fois mentionée
l’Eglise, épouse du Christ, couronnée par lui de la croix.” Donabédian, L’âge d’or de l’architecture
arménienne, 156n.222.
22 Michael Daniel Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Church and the Cross,” St. Nersess
Theological Review 11 (2006): 63–105, at 74–75. “
[ ] — .
. . : [ ]
. . ” (emphasis mine,
ellipses indicate my omission of words). Note that the English translation by Findikyan differs
slightly from the Armenian above; he uses Jaynk’ał Šarakan [Hymns arranged by tone] (Jerusalem:
St. James, 1914). I could not consult this at the time of writing; instead, I used a hymnal printed
in 1833 in Ēǰmiacin, now in the Matendaran Institute of Ancient Manuscripts, Erevan (there the
hymn appears on 387). See http://greenstone.flib.sci.am/gsdl/cgi-bin/library.cgi?e=d-01000-00--
-off-0armbook-armenian%2chajgirqn%2chaygirq%2carmbook%2cNo%5fDate%5fBooks-01-1---
-0-10-0---0---0direct-10---4-------0-1l--11-hu-50---20-help---00-3-1-00-0-0-11-1-0gbk-00-0-0-11-1
0-0utfZz-8-00&a=d&c=armbook&cl=CL5.35&d=HASHcee1ecf25e3766698aa98.
23 “ . .
” (emphasis mine).
24 Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Church and the Cross,” 79–80.
25 Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Church and the Cross,” 88.
26 Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Church and the Cross,” 89.
27 Michael Daniel Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Holy Cross and the Jerusalem Encaenia,”
Revue des études arméniennes 32 (2010): 25–58.
28 For example, the patriarch Sophronius of Jerusalem (560–638) does not know why the Anastasis
is celebrated first (as in the first day) and the cross second, since Christ first was crucified and
then died. See Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Holy Cross,” 29.
29 Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Holy Cross,” 28. Findikyan notes that the hymns of days
three, four, and five do not pertain to the cross so much as the church as a concept and as a
structure, and some explicitly concern the consecration of buildings, such as the church of Holy
Ēǰmiacin in Vałaršapat.
30 Findikyan, “Armenian Hymns of the Holy Cross,” 34. It is relevant to our argument that Findikyan,
and Athanase Renoux before him, noted the stational character of these hymns. See Findikyan,
“Armenian Hymns of the Holy Cross,” 48–50; and Renoux, Le Codex Arménien Jerusalem 121.
31 Dora Piguet-Panayotova, “Recherches sur les tétraconques à déambulatoire et leur décor en
Transcaucasie au VIIe siècle,” Oriens Christianus, 73 (1989): 166–212; Armen Kazaryan, “The
Chancel and Liturgical Space in the Church of Zuart‘noc‘,” 85–104; Garibian de Vartavan, La
Jérusalem nouvelle; and Annegret Plontke-Lüning, Früchristliche Architektur in Kaukasien
(Vienna: Verlag der Österreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2007).
Early medieval Armenian church 49
32 Step‘an Mnac‘akanyan, Zuart‘noc’ə ev nuynatip hušarjannerə (Erevan: Haykakan SSH
Gitut’yunneri Akademiayi Hratarakč’ut’yun, 1971), 147; and Lydia Durnovo, “Stennaja Živopis’
v Aruc,” Lraber hasarakakan gitut’yunneri, no. 1 (1952): 49–66.
33 Piguet-Panayotova, “Recherches sur les tetraconques,” 176.
34 Kazaryan, “The Chancel and Liturgical Space in the Church of Zuart‘noc‘.”
35 Patrick Donabédian, “Les thèmes bibliques dans la sculpture arménienne préarabe,” Revue des
études arméniennes, n.s., 22 (1990–91): 253–314, at 281.
36 Donabédian (“Les thèmes bibliques dans la sculpture arménienne préarabe,” 281–82) has also
suggested that the basket capitals in the church interior may be related to the “bowl-shaped
network capitals” mentioned in the construction of the Temple of Solomon.
37 Donabédian (“Les thèmes bibliques dans la sculpture arménienne préarabe”, 282) cites the tomb
of Ałudi as presenting a juxtaposition of basketwork capital, pomegranate, and flower forms. I
would venture that the example of Zuart‘noc‘ evokes the Temple of Solomon even more powerfully
because of the multiplication of these themes around the perimeter of the church facade. But
both sites certainly attest to the power of Solomonic imagery in the construction of early medieval
Armenian monuments.
38 1 Kings 7:17–19, Titus Text Collection, Vetus Testamentum armeniace, from the so-called Zohrab
Bible, http://titus.uni-frankfurt.de/texte/etcs/arm/zohrab/armat/armat.htm (my translation).: “
,
. 18: ‘ ,
, 19: ‘ ( ) ( )
, ‘ .”
39 Donabédian, “Les thèmes bibliques,” 280–83.
40 Findikyan, “The Armenian Liturgy of Dedicating a Church,” 91–93.
41 Findikyan, “The Armenian Liturgy of Dedicating a Church,” 90.
42 Findikyan, “The Armenian Liturgy of Dedicating a Church,” 90.
43 On circumambulation as one of the guiding principles in structuring ekphrasis of a church building,
see Ruth Webb’s essay in this volume, “Spirituality, Embodiment, and Agency in Ekphraseis of
Church Buildings.”
44 Renoux, Le Codex Arménien Jérusalem 121, 258–59.
45 See Donabédian, L’âge d’or de l’architecture arménienne, 108–10; Jean-Michel Thierry and
Nicole Thierry, “La cathédrale de Mren et sa décoration,” Cahiers archéologiques 21 (1971):
43–77; and most recently, Samvel Karapetyan, “Mrenə ev Nra Hušarjannerə” [Mren and its
monuments], Vardsk’/Duty of Soul 7 (2012): 31–63.
46 See The Armenian History attributed to Sebeos, trans. Robert Thomson, with historical commentary
by James Howard-Johnston and assistance by Timothy Greenwood, 2 vols. (Liverpool: Liverpool
University Press, 1999).
47 See for example Josef Strzygowski, Die Baukunst der Armenier und Europa (Vienna: Anton
Schroll, 1918), 427–28.
48 Minas Sargsyan, “Mreni Tačarə Himnaderneri Patkerak‘andaknerə” [The images of founders on
the church of Mren], Patma-Banasirakan Handes 35, no. 4 (1966): 241–50.
49 See Jean-Michel Thierry and Nicole Thierry, “La cathédrale de Mren,”; and by Nicole Thierry,
“Héraclius et la vraie croix en Arménie,” in From Byzantium to Iran: Armenian Studies in
Honour of Nina G. Garsoïan, ed. Jean-Pierre Mahé and Robert W. Thomson (Atlanta, GA:
Scholars Press, 1997), 165–86.
50 Christina Maranci, “The Humble Heraclius: Revisiting the North Portal at Mren,” Revue des
études arméniennes 31 (2009): 359–72. See also Stephan Borgehammar, “Heraclius Learns
Humility: Two Early Latin Accounts Composed for the Celebration of Exaltatio Crucis,”
Millennium: Jahrbuch zu Kultur und Geschichte des ersten Jahrtausends n. Chr. 6 (2009): 161–63.
51 Unlike, for example, the eleventh-century Sacramentary of Mont-Saint-Michel, in which the story
is told in two registers of continuous narrative, the lintel presents a composition centered on the
cross (Pierpont Morgan Library, New York, MS 641, fol. 155v).
52 See Susan A. Boyd and Marlia Mundell Mango, Eds., Ecclesiastical Silver Plate in Sixth-Century
Byzantium: Papers of the Symposium Held May 16–18, 1986, at the Walters Art Gallery, Baltimore,
and Dumbarton Oaks, Washington, DC (Washington, DC: Dumbarton Oaks, 1993). For Armenian
crosses, see Jannic Durand, Ioanna Rapti, and Dorota Giovannoni, Eds., Armenia Sacra: Mémoire
chrétienne des Arméniens (IVe–XVIIIe siècles) (Paris: Musée de Louvre, 2007).
50 Christina Maranci
53 Nicole Thierry, “Héraclius et la vraie croix en Arménie,” 169. One might add that the proposed
liturgical interpretation of the return of the Cross may be seen as in keeping with contemporary
Heraclian ideology. See John Haldon, “The Reign of Heraclius: A Context for Change?” in The
Reign of Heraclius: Crisis and Confrontation, ed. Gerrit J. Reinink and Bernard H. Stolte (Louvain:
Peeters, 2002), 14–15.
54 Findikyan, “The Armenian Liturgy of Dedicating a Church,” 91–93.
55 See Greenwood, “A Corpus of Early Medieval Armenian Inscriptions,” 36.
56 Given the off-axis orientation of Mren, however, direct southward travel would actually bring
one to the Persian Gulf.
57 See Robert H. Hewsen, Armenia: A Historical Atlas (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press,
2001), 90.
58 Christina Maranci, “Performance and Church Exterior in Early Medieval Armenia,” in Visualizing
Medieval Performance: Perspectives, Histories, Contexts, ed. Elina Gertsman (London: Ashgate,
2008), 17–32.
59 The exterior sculpture of Armenia and Georgia is physically fragile. At Zuart‘noc‘, in the Armenian
Republic, fragments of the facade now lie on the ground, exposed to weather, lichen, and damp.
At the church of Djvari in Mtskheta, Georgia, the wall reliefs are weathering faster than they
can be protected. The case of Mren is the most urgent, because the isolation of this church, and
its unstabilized condition, mean that the north facade, and its portal, may soon go the way of
the collapsed south facade. Tied to the fate of the monuments they adorn and exposed to the
elements, the carved bas-reliefs discussed above require not only the attention of the scholar but
also the care of the preservationist, and one hopes they will receive both.
Early medieval Armenian church 51