The intrinsic bond between architectural design, climatic conditions, and socio-cultural norms has historically fostered a sense of continuity in domestic architecture. However, in contemporary times, we find ourselves grappling with a rapid erosion of traditional building practices, an influx of foreign influences, and a barrage of disruptive forces. This transformation has sparked a heated discourse, with both advocates and detractors of the design professions leveling accusations of willful disregard for the past and indifference to the needs of users.

Amidst this debate, informal settlements emerge as compelling case studies, offering a lens through which to explore questions of identity. These settlements, born out of spontaneous and organic evolution, provide a stark contrast to formal urban planning processes. Devoid of regulatory constraints and preconceived design templates imposed from external sources, they offer a canvas upon which the complexities of identity formation are laid bare.

By examining the housing patterns within informal settlements, we gain insight into the intricate interplay between architecture, culture, and human experience. Here, the built environment serves as a tangible manifestation of community values, aspirations, and adaptability. It is within these humble abodes, crafted with ingenuity and resourcefulness, that the essence of identity finds its most authentic expression.

In navigating the challenges posed by rapid urbanization and globalization, architects and urban planners must heed the lessons offered by informal settlements. Rather than imposing top-down solutions, there is a pressing need to engage with local communities, harnessing their knowledge and expertise to co-create sustainable and culturally resonant built environments. Only by embracing the rich diversity of human experience can we hope to foster a built environment that is inclusive, resilient, and reflective of our collective identity.

During the post-colonial era, which commenced in the mid-1950s, Arab nations initiated national planning endeavors. These efforts often entailed the formulation and execution of multi-sectoral plans spanning five-year intervals. However, following the significant oil discoveries of 1973, oil-rich countries embarked on ambitious development initiatives. These initiatives attracted a diverse array of professionals, technicians, skilled workers, and laborers from neighboring nations and beyond, resulting in extensive regional labor movements and economic interdependencies.

The influx of capital into urban real estate from the emergent middle class, eager to invest their newfound wealth, fueled a dramatic surge in land values and construction costs. This exponential rise in property values and building expenses precipitated one of the most severe inflationary periods witnessed in urban real estate history. Between 1975 and 1982, land values skyrocketed by a factor of ten, while construction costs soared fivefold. Meanwhile, local incomes experienced only modest growth, increasing by a factor of two or three.

The prevailing development landscape was characterized by speculative ventures and a lack of regulatory oversight. This laissez-faire approach to development facilitated unchecked speculation and contributed to an environment of unrestrained growth. The repercussions of this speculative fervor reverberated throughout the urban fabric, profoundly impacting the socioeconomic dynamics of the region.

The rapid expansion of urban areas has surpassed the capacity of municipalities to effectively manage growth. Struggling to keep pace, local authorities find themselves in a precarious position, hesitant to impose taxes or release vacant land for development, yet lacking the means to exert meaningful control over peripheral expansion. This vacuum has allowed small-scale entrepreneurs and contractors to capitalize on the burgeoning demand for housing among the burgeoning middle class, thereby shaping the dynamics of the real estate market.

The consequence of this unchecked growth is twofold: the proliferation of informal settlements through leapfrogging and fringe development, and the accelerated densification of existing settlements. Informal settlements, while often viewed unfavorably, have captured the attention of planners, engineers, and architects due to their dynamic nature and relatively sturdy structures. Yet, there remains a pervasive ambivalence regarding the architectural quality of these buildings, a topic deserving of greater scrutiny given their increasing prominence within urban landscapes.

As informal settlements continue to assert their presence spatially and visually, it becomes imperative to delve into the characteristics of this emergent architectural typology. By examining the origins of its design vocabulary and identifying the factors driving its evolution, we can gain valuable insights into the complex interplay between urbanization, socio-economic dynamics, and architectural form. Such an exploration is essential for informing future interventions aimed at addressing the challenges posed by informal settlements and fostering more equitable and sustainable urban development.

In informal settlements, while there may be surface-level resemblances to historical urban fabrics, the underlying patterns diverge significantly. Here, the urban layout is characterized by a dual grid system that blends vehicular and pedestrian circulation within a modified rectilinear framework. This hierarchical grid serves as the fundamental structural framework, organizing the space into cohesive clusters of streets and buildings, each delineating distinct social spaces within the community.

The alignment and accessibility of these spaces are dictated by local conditions and prominent landmarks, such as mosques and souks, which often serve as focal points for vehicular access. Open spaces, once dominated by traditional courtyards, now reflect contemporary notions of private and social domains. They promote community interaction by facilitating movement along streets and adhering to established social norms governing public spaces.

Despite the apparent anticipation of vehicular traffic and infrastructure needs within this urban pattern, the lack of planned provisions for utilities and communal amenities exacerbates existing challenges. As densities rapidly escalate, often reaching levels comparable to overcrowded traditional quarters within a decade, the strain on resources becomes increasingly apparent. In some instances, densities have surged from less than 400 persons per hectare to 800 or even 1,000, equivalent to 400 persons per acre, exacerbating congestion and underscoring the urgent need for comprehensive planning and infrastructure development.

[The models]

The design professions have wielded significant influence in shaping the emerging popular architecture, albeit indirectly. Beyond their architectural significance, the design and aesthetics of both private constructions and public housing projects reflect a modern image that garners widespread admiration.

Workers take pride in their ability to work with innovative materials and replicate novel decorations, such as motifs, textures, and colors, rather than solely focusing on the final product's quality. However, this shift has led to a loss of traditional skills as craftsmen adapt to the demands of modern construction techniques.

Innovations in design and decoration, often introduced by wealthier segments of society or from abroad, are embraced and modified to suit the lifestyles of the target clientele. This constant interplay between users/clients and builders/designers fosters a dynamic exchange, resulting in the evolution of the new popular architecture to meet the diverse needs and preferences of its inhabitants.

[The architectural expression] 

Misinterpretations of recognizable traditional building configurations have led many professionals, especially those from Western backgrounds, to mistakenly view contemporary popular architecture as a revitalized iteration of traditional models. However, in reality, the opposite holds true. There exists a palpable aversion to anything deemed old-fashioned, coupled with an irresistible allure towards the new, regardless of its suitability or cost.

Modern popular expectations and lifestyles no longer align with traditional norms. There's a clear preference for urban, functional, and modern aesthetics, rejecting any association with rural elements such as courtyards, mud materials, or barn-like appointments. Despite this rejection, certain functions persist, albeit in unconventional ways; for instance, ovens may be relocated to terraces, goats housed in bedrooms, or poultry penned on balconies or in bathrooms.

While some functionally obsolete elements are discarded without hesitation, others undergo incongruous adaptations to retain their symbolic significance. This complex interplay between modern aspirations and traditional remnants underscores the evolving nature of popular architecture, where pragmatic needs often clash with deeply ingrained cultural symbolism.

 

The Round City of Baghdad, 762–766. Source: Samarra Archaeological Survey.

 

Once in power, after 750, the Abbasids built a series of new capitals – two called al‐Hashimiyya (after their dynastic ancestor), whose sites remain unknown – before Abu Jaʿfar al‐Mansur founded Baghdad in 762–766. Baghdad, formally Madinat al‐Salam (City of Peace), was laid out in a way that developed from the amsar. At the center, on the west bank of the Tigris, was the caliph’s circular city, called Madinat Abi Jaʿfar (known to us as the Round City).

To the south of it lay the market area of al‐Karkh. According to the sources, this only became the market area after the merchants were expelled from the Round City .

 However, as is evident from the name, al‐Karkh, a Syriac word meaning “fortified city” (Karkhe), al‐Karkh must have been a small pre‐Islamic town, outside which the Round City was built. From the four gates of the Round City, the four Grand Avenues extended into the suburbs (rabad, pl. arbad).

The suburbs were divided into four quarters (arba ʿ), and each was governed by an associate of al‐Mansur. There was a further Grand Avenue (shari ʿ aʿzam) on the Tigris. From 769 onwards, the heir of al‐Mansur, al‐Mahdi, came back from Rayy in Iran, and settled on the east bank of the Tigris in al‐Rusafa, in a typical arrangement where the eldest son had his own establishment.

The new element in the plan, apart from the fact that the quarters were no longer divided by tribe, was the Round City, famous for being circular, with the mosque and the caliph’s palace placed in the center.

 No archaeological trace of it has been discovered, but the textual descriptions are quite detailed, in the Kitab al‐Buldan of al‐Yaʿqubi, and the topographical introduction of the Ta ʾrikh Baghdad of al‐Khatib al‐Baghdadi.

The unconfirmed plan was first reconstructed by Herzfeld, and then corrected by Lassner, from the textual sources without much reference to archaeological evidence. Two imitations of the Round City exist: al‐Rafiqa, the Abbasid city at Raqqa in Syria (772), and Qadisiyya (before 796), called al‐Mubarak, near Samarra, north of Baghdad, on both of which see below.

Al‐Rafiqa is not circular but was described as imitating Baghdad. Qadisiyya is an octagon, geometrically related to a circle. A third example, in this case a palace with a circular enclosure wall, exists at Hiraqla, outside Raqqa in Syria (Toueir 1982).

These copies are useful for confirming the details of Baghdad that has now disappeared – the type of mud‐brick walls, the size of the bricks, most importantly the dimensions. Present thinking of researchers is that the Round City was about 2500–2638 m in diameter, according to the conclusions of Creswell.

The most detailed single description is that of al‐Yaʿqubi from the late ninth century, who states that the Round City was 5000 cubits from one gate to the other, outside the moat. This figure has been presumed by Creswell to be one quarter of the circumference, but the text could also mean half the circumference.

In this latter case, the Round City would have been of similar dimensions to its imitations, for its overall diameter would have been 1655 m, and the largest overall dimension of the Octagon of Qadisiyya, between the corner towers, is 1659 m.

 

 

The concept of the Round City, if new, was based on existing ideas, including partly on the plans of the amsar. Al‐Yaʿqubi tells us that the circular plan had never been seen before (al‐Yaʿqubi 1892: 9).

However, in reality, circular plans are quite frequent in Mesopotamian architecture, and concentric roughly circular city plans are already known from the Bronze Age at Mari and Tell Chuera in Syria.

The closest extant example is that of the early Sasanian circular city of Ardashir‐Khurreh (Firuzabad), southeast of Shiraz in Iran (third century ce), and 1950 m in diameter, with double walls and a radial plan (Huff 1969).

In the Round City of Baghdad, according to al‐Yaʿqubi in the center of the rahba (courtyard) lay the palace of al‐Mansur, whose gate was called Bab al‐Dhahab (Golden Gate), 400 cubits each side, and the mosque, 200 cubits square. In a circle around the rahba were the following buildings:

 The residences of the younger children of al‐Mansur, and his vassals (mawali) who are close to him in his service, the bayt al‐mal (the treasury), the arsenal, the diwan al‐rasa’il (bureau of correspondence), the diwan al‐kharaj (the land tax), the diwan al‐khatam (the seal), the diwan al‐jund (the army), the diwan al‐hawa ʾij (requirements), the diwan of the entourages (ahsham), the public kitchen, and the diwan al‐nafaqat (expenditures).

Then there were four vaulted streets (taqat), which led to the gates of Kufa, Basra, Khurasan, and al‐Sham (Damascus). These were initially occupied by merchants, providing local markets of the type provided in the cantonments at Samarra. There were also 45 radial streets (sikka), which were “known by [the names of] his quwwad and his mawali.” The great prison, al‐Matbaq, was also located in the streets.


The expression mawali normally refers to personal vassals but may here refer to the servants of the palace, probably also including other officials. It is certain that the quwwad were the commanders of the army.

In Samarra, these commanders were quartered with their soldiers, with one exception. The Round City must have been an important military settlement in the time of al‐Mansur. Al‐Harbiyya, the northwestern suburb outside the Round City, was also an important settlement of the army: according to al‐Yaʿqubi (1892: 248) it was settled by Central Asians – “the people of Balkh, Merv, al‐Khuttal, Bukhara, Isbishab, Ishtakhanj, the people of the Kabulshah, the people of Khwarazm.”


It is not certain whether al‐Yaʿqubi is speaking here of his own lifetime in the ninth century. The names appear to speak of later recruitment than the time of al‐ Mansur, such as al‐ʿAbbasiyya of Harun al‐Rashid, or the Iranian and Central Asian forces recruited by al‐Maʾmun. In the case of the quwwad of the Round City, it is clear that he is speaking of the time of al‐Mansur, for he says in two cases that he has forgotten the original name of the street.

One may conclude that the Round City was intended by al‐Mansur to accommodate the palace, the mosque, the administration, the servants of the palace, and an important part of the army. Other units of the army were later settled outside the walls. Al‐Mansur settled in the Round City all the elements of the state which were important to him, if we compare these details with the surviving state budget of the caliph al‐Muʿtadid at the end of the ninth century.

This was the new concept in Baghdad: a royal city in which the majority of the functions of the state were assembled under the eye of the caliph, and separated from the public areas of the city by a fortification.

The public only entered for prayers in the congregational mosque, which according to the earlier tradition, was placed next to the palace. The problem of the security of the caliph is much mentioned in the historical sources – that of letting the general public in for prayers in the mosque – and in the end, it was al‐Mansur who left the Round City and settled in a new palace, al‐Khuld (Eternity), on the banks of the Tigris, in 774.

 

 

Image Reference:
https://historyofyesterday.com/ancient-baghdad-the-round-city-6dd64ced2ac7
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Round_city_of_Baghdad#/media/File:Baghdad_150_to_300_AH.png

 Book Reference:

A companion to Islamic art and architecture by Flood, Finbarr Barry Necipoğlu, Gülru.

Get the Book on Amazon: 

 

Stucco mihrab in the Congregational Mosque at Isfahan, 1310

 

 

In the fall of 1253 the Great Khan Mongke, grandson of Chingiz Khan and supreme ruler of the Mongols in China, dispatched his brother Hulagu at the head of an army against the Isma'ilis in northern Iran and the Abbasid caliph in Baghdad.

Hulagu moved speedily across Iran, conquering and devastating whatever areas did not capitulate, and took Baghdad in 1258.

This date marks the official establishment of the Mongol rulers in Persia known as Il-khdns or subordinates to the great khan in China. Hulagu and his immediate successors continued the nomadic practices of the steppe, wintering in the warmer lands of Mesopotamia and summering on the grassy plains of north-western Iran.

 They preferred living in tents, and only a few monuments of secular architecture remain from the second half of the thirteenth century. The Ilkhanids controlled the lands from the Oxus almost to the Mediterranean and from the Caucasus to the Indian Ocean, territory that is now western Afghanistan, Iran, southern Russia, eastern Turkey, and Iraq. 

Earthquakes, invasions, and subsequent occupations have destroyed all but the odd building from their capitals at Maragha, Tabriz, Baghdad, and Sultaniyya; and their urban infrastructure can hardly be gleaned from textual descriptions.

Instead, it is provincial buildings in central and western Iran that have survived to provide an idea of the magnificence of architectural patronage under the Ilkhanids.' The Ilkhanids inherited a repertory of building types, forms, materials, and techniques of construction which had been developed in Iran in the previous period.

The congregational mosque had evolved its classical form of a court with iwans on the four sides and a domed chamber on the qibla, and this plan was standard for other types of religious buildings such as madrasas and khanaqahs and for secular ones such as caravanserais.
Graves were marked by tomb towers or by square or polygonal canopy-like mausoleums. The standard vocabulary of forms included iwans, domes, squinches, and minarets, and these were usually combined in predictable ways.

The standard elevation in a dome chamber, for example, was tripartite; a zone of transition with squinches bridged the gap from a square or polygonal room to the circular base of a dome. The main faqade was usually marked by a pishtdq, the high and formal gateway composed of an arch set within a rectangular frame and functioning like a shallow iwan.

Minarets were often used as framing devices, either at the ends of the faqade or at the sides of an iwan. High-quality baked brick was the preeminent medium of construction, and bricks were often laid in decorative patterns, although stucco revetment was also popular and inserts of terracotta and glazed tiles were used to enliven surfaces.

 In this period the traditional vocabulary would be modified in several ways. Individual buildings were grouped in monumental complexes, often centered around the grave of the patron or a revered figure. The earliest complexes were haphazardly arranged, although a pishtdq and elaborate decoration were used to draw attention to the main fagade.

Proportions were altered as rooms became taller, arches more pointed, and minarets more attenuated. The new taste for verticality is combined with a refined sense of form, seen in monumental portals with soaring double minarets. Baked brick remained the major medium of construction, but new methods were developed for enlivening surfaces.
Color became increasingly important; glazed bricks were added to exteriors, and interiors were decorated with tile revetments and carved and painted plaster. Muqarnas units were no longer structural elements constructed of brick, but decorative ones made of plaster and suspended from vaults or walls. 

 

 

 

ARCHITECTURE UNDER THE ILKHANIDS 

 

 

One of the first actions by the Ilkhanid rulers after conquering Baghdad was to construct an observatory in their summer capital at Maragha in north-western Iran.
Located on a hill five hundred meters north of the town, the building was begun in 1259. Excavations have uncovered sixteen units, including a central tower containing a quadrant (forty- five meters in diameter), a foundry for the manufacture of astronomical instruments, five round towers, and several large buildings.

 The large site and the quality of the materials, which included stone, baked brick, and glazed and luster tiles, show how important astronomy and astrology were to the shamanist Mongols.
Many structures from the early Ilkhanid period were built of degradable materials, for contemporary accounts state that the Ilkhanids used tents of horsehair and felt.

The sole surviving example of Ilkhanid palatial architecture is the summer palace begun by Abaqa ca. 1275 and continued by his son Arghun a decade later . The site, now known as Takht-i Sulayman, stands south-east of Lake Urmiya in Azerbayjan on the foundations of the Sasanian sanctuary of Shiz.

 A huge courtyard (125 by 150 meters), oriented north-south, encompassed an artificial lake and was surrounded by porticoes with four iwans. Behind the north iwan was a domed room, which occupied the site of the Sasanian fire temple and probably served as Abaqa’s audience hall.
Behind the west iwan was a transverse hall flanked by two octagonal kiosks; it had served as the throne-room of Khusraw and became the living quarters of the Ilkhanid sovereign.
Plaster fragments on the ground indicate that the southern octagonal kiosk was covered with a muqarnas vault, composed of many individual plaster units.

 The excavations also uncovered a stucco plaque fifty centimeters on a side; the incised drawing on it represents one-quarter of the dome and was evidendy used to guide the workmen in assembling the pre-cast units.

This unique document is one of the earliest pieces of evidence for the use of architectural plans in the Islamic world and confirms the historical sources, which state that plans were sent from the capital to the provinces.

" The walls of the northern octagonal kiosk were revetted with a superb dado. The lower two meters were covered with star- and cross-shaped tiles overglazed in a technique known as Idjvardma, from the Persian word for lapis lazuli.
This dado was surmounted by a frieze of square tiles, thirty-five centimeters on a side, depicting simurghs and dragons among other heroic subjects. The wall was crowned with a wide band of painted plaster. The quality and abundance of the architectural decoration, particularly the marble capitals, the luster and Idjvardma tiles, and the muqarnas dome, show that the Mongol sultans lavishly decorated their own homes.

Both the placement, considered by the Ilkhanids to be the site where the Sasanian emperors had been crowned, and the decoration, luster tiles with verses and scenes illustrating the themes of the Shdhndma, the Persian national epic composed by the poet Firdawsi ca. 1010 at the court of Mahmud of Ghazna, were deliberately chosen to affirm Mongol connections to pre-Islamic Iranian kingship.

Ghazan Khan’s accession in 1295 marked a change in both Ilkhanid society and architectural patronage. He severed links with the Great Khan in China, thereby accelerating acceptance of the culture of the sedentary Persians over that of the nomadic Mongols. He converted to Islam, taking the Muslim name of Mahmud.

He and his prime minister Rashid al-Din (d. 1318) also inaugurated a vast program of reforms which revitalized the economy and provided an economic basis for significant amounts of new construction, particularly religious buildings.
He ordered caravanserais built along the major trade routes and bath houses in every city; the revenues from these buildings could support the mosques he also ordered.
The effects of Ghazan’s reforms continued through the reigns of his two successors, his brother Uljaytu (r. 1304-16) and his nephew Abu Sa'id (r. 1317-35), and the major works of Ilkhanid religious architecture thus date from the period 1295-1335.

 Ghazan’s single greatest project was his tomb complex in a western suburb of Tabriz. Earlier Ilkhanid rulers had followed Mongol burial practice and concealed gravesites, but Ghazan adopted the traditions of Islamic Iran and ordered a charitable foundation to surround his “lofty” tomb.

The complex included a hospice, hospital, library, obser¬ vatory, academy of philosophy, fountain, pavilion, and two madrasas for students of Hanafi and Shafi'i law. Only fragments of brick and tile remain, but texts describe the mausoleum as a twelve-sided structure containing a semi subterranean crypt, a chamber for the cenotaph, and a crowning dome. 

 

 

 

Rashid al-Din followed royal precedent and ordered his own funerary complex in an eastern suburb of Tabriz. It too has disappeared, but the surviving endowment deed allows a reconstruction of the buildings and enumeration of the personnel and services provided.

Four structures were enclosed within a sturdy wall behind a monumental portal: a hospice, khanaqah, hospital, and tomb with winter and summer mosques. The deed also specified that copies of the Koran, collections of prophetic traditions, and Arabic and Persian copies of Rashid al-Din’s own works were to be commissioned annually by the supervisor of the endowment and distributed throughout the realm. The fragments glazed in light and dark blue and similar to those found at Ghazan’s tomb complex litter the site. 

 

The imperial scale of Ilkhanid architecture can best be seen in the magnificent tomb of Uljaytu at Sultaniyya. Arghun had chosen the site, some one hundred and twenty kilometers north-west of Qazvin on the road to Tabriz, as his summer residence, and Uljaytu transformed it into the capital of the empire, hence its name “Imperial.”

Like most Iranian cities, it had an outer wall and an inner citadel. The outer ramparts measured thirty thousand paces around; the inner citadel was protected by a moat, sixteen round towers, and a single gate in a machicolated wall broad enough for four horsemen to ride abreast.

These features are visible in the earliest representation of the site, contained in Matrakci Nasuh’s account, made in i537~8, of the Ottoman sultan Suleyman’s campaigns in Iraq and Iran.

The largest monument within the citadel was the sultan’s tomb complex, which included a mosque, madrasa, hospice, hospital, guesthouse, and other buildings.

’ Uljaytu’s tomb is the only part of the complex at Sultaniyya to survive. It is an enormous octagon, some thirty- eight meters in diameter, which is oriented almost cardinally. The north wall projects to meet the lateral walls, thereby creating triangular compartments which house stairs to the upper stories. To the south, a rectangular hall measuring fifteen by twenty meters is attached to the central conversion to Shi ism and to a spurious tale of his desire to transfer the bodies of 'Ali and Husayn, the two most revered Shi'ite martyrs, from Iraq.

Inscriptions provide three fixed poles for the history of the building. The exterior decoration was complete in 1310; the interior decoration in brick and tile was finished in 1313, when the building was dedicated with much celebration, including the issuing of commemorative copper coins.

The redecoration in painted plaster was ordered within the next three years, before the sultan’s death in December 1316. These dates cannot be correlated with any shift in piety or taste, and the redecoration was probably ordered to commemorate the brief period when Ulja|tu was recognized as protector of the Holy Cities of Arabia.

 Not only did Ilkhanid sultans and viziers erect charitable foundations around their own tombs, but the same patrons also commemorated the graves of Sufi shaykhs with monumental tomb complexes. Some were built around the graves of renowned historical figures. In northern Iran, the grave of Bayazid Bastami (d. 874 or 877), one of the most celebrated mystics in Islam, was a focus for much Ilkhanid work, including superb decoration in cut and painted plaster and a large, flanged tomb tower dedicated to Uljaytu’s infant octagonal space, which measures twenty-five meters in diameter and is surmounted by a fifty-meter high dome ringed by eight minarets.

The interior of the octagonal hall has eight arched openings with balconies. Above them, on the exterior, a ring of galleries overlooks the surrounding plain and provides a visual transition from the flat walls (which probably abutted subsidiary structures on several sides) to the ethereal blue-glazed dome.

The subtle design of interpenetrating volumes is complemented by the sophisticated gallery vaults . The two dozen vaults display a wide variety of carved and plaster motifs, painted in red, yellow, green, and white. Many of the strapwork panels closely resemble contemporary manuscript illumination, suggesting that Ilkhanid designers provided patterns used on different scales in architecture and manuscripts.

The lofty interior, one of the largest uninterrupted spaces of medieval times, comes as an awesome surprise after the stately ex terior. The spatial elegance and grandeur attest to the abilities of the designer(s), who were able to realize the sultan’s desire for monumentality with sophistication and grace.

 

 Other shrines honored contemporary mystics. At Natanz in central Iran, the grave of 'Abd al-Samad (d. 1299), the leading Suhrawardi shaykh of the day, developed into a major shrine complex in the decade following his death.

The vizier Zayn al-Din Mastari (put to death in 1312 with his associate Karim al-Din Shugani) refurbished the town’s congregational mosque and built a tomb, minaret, and hospice adjacent to it. The builders attempted to unify these disparate structures behind a single slightly curved fagade.

Decorated in glazed tile, stucco, and terracotta and flickering in the shadow of an immense plane tree, it has often been compared to an illustration from a contemporary Persian manuscript.

The irregular depth of the iwans in the mosque, the uneven floor levels, and the haphazard organization of the interior show that the builders were constrained both by the topography of the site and by the structures already built on it.
The tomb is a chamber approximately six meters square erected on the site of 'Abd al-Samad’s residence across a lane from the mosque. As at Bastam, the shape is traditional, but the interior is decorated with the finest fittings Zayn al-Din could procure.

The walls were once revetted with a 1.3 5-meter dado of luster tiles, now dispersed in museums throughout the world, and often recognizable by a frieze of paired birds whose heads were later defaced by some zealous iconoclast.
 Large, specially ordered luster tiles also decorated the mihrab and the cenotaph, but the glory of the room is still a spectacular twelve-tier muqarnas vault.
Eight screened windows admit a subdued light which plays across the faceted surfaces to reveal the sculptural richness of the vault and illuminates the superbly designed and carved stucco inscription band that encircles the base of the dome.

 Traces of an equally fine inscription band in the north iwan of the mosque are signed by Haydar, the master carver who executed the finest sculptural achievement of the age, the mihrab added to Isfahan’s congregational mosque in 1310.

 

Natanz, Shrine of'Abd al-Samad, 1299-1312

 

Natanz, Shrine of'Abd al-Samad, plan

Over six meters high and three broad, the Isfahan mihrab exhibits the typical arrangement of concentric niches within rectangular frames. It is distinguished from other examples, such as that at the small shrine known as Pir-i Bakran at Linjan outside Isfahan, by the crispness of its carving.

Each area of the composition is worked in a distinct pattern; each pattern is worked simultaneously on several levels. The outer rectangular frame, for example, has a ground of double arabesque scrolls sprouting carved and stippled palmettes which supports an elegant inscription in Thuluth script.

The inscriptions include praise on the twelve imams revered by the Shi'ites and traditions of 'Ali, the Prophet’s successor,’ and the choice of texts suggests that the mihrab was commissioned to commemorate Uljaytu’s conversion to Shi'ism at the end of 1309.

Haydar, who signed the work beside the foundation inscription in the tympanum, was one of the most famous calligraphers of the day. He was one of the six pupils of Yaqut al-Musta'simi, the “cynosure of calligraphers”, and was himself the teacher of such calligraphers as 'Abdallah Sayrafi and such viziers as Taj al-Din 'Alishah and Rashid al- Din’s son, Ghiyath al-Din Muhammad.

Taj al-Din was a wily nouveau-riche cloth merchant who rose meteorically to the head of the vizierate, arranging Rashid al-Din’s downfall in the process. He curried favor by presenting the sultan with such gifts as an elaborate jeweled barge to float along the Tigris and underwriting such projects as a cloth bazaar for Sultaniyya. The vizier’s ambition is evident in the new congregational mosque he ordered in Tabriz ca. 1315. A large forecourt with a central pool one hundred and fifty cubits square preceded an elephantine brick iwan .

The vault, which subsequently collapsed, originally spanned thirty meters and sprang from walls ten meters thick and twenty-five meters high. I

n its own day it was lauded as larger than the iwan at Ctesiphon, the Sasanian palace outside of Baghdad considered to be one of the wonders of the world, and visitors marveled at its rich revetment in marble and tile, although only the baked brick walls remain.

 

 

Luster-painted frieze tile with paired birds from the Shrine of'Abd al-Samad at Natanz, 1308. H 36 cm. London, Victoria and Albert Museum

 

 Other Ilkhanid mosques had two iwans. That at Ashtarjan, thirty-three kilometers south-west of Isfahan, was ordered in 1315 by an accountant in the Ilkhanid administration for his home town. The indifferent construction is covered with showy stucco and tile revetments.

The most common mosque plan, however, continued to have four iwans and a dome as developed in Iran several centuries earlier. It can best be seen in the now restored congregational mosque at Varamin, forty-two kilometers south of Tehran.

The mosque, ordered in 1322 during the reign of Uljaytu’s son and successor Abu Sa'id, is a freestanding rectangle sixty-six by forty-three meters. Lateral entrances lead to iwans on the court, but the major entrance is from the north .

Its elaborate portal, probably once flanked by minarets, pre¬ figures the faqade of the sanctuary iwan which leads from the court to the dome chamber. The dome chamber, just over ten meters in diameter, also presents the classic elevation developed in the Saljuq period. A square chamber supports an octagonal zone of four squinches alternating with four blind arches.

This in turn supports a sixteen-sided zone on which rests the dome. The building is disinguished from its Saljuq prototypes by its attenuated proportions, its small court, and its extensive but routine use of tile mosaic.

 

Book Reference:
The art and architecture of Islam 1250-1800 by Blair, Sheila

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The settlement of the Arabian Peninsula goes back to the dawn of history. Its geographical location connected the peninsula to India and Asia from the second century bce with the discovery of the monsoon winds.

 Africa was close by; to the north lay the Mediterranean world and Mesopotamia.
From the earliest times, the Arabian Peninsula played a decisive intermediary role in the transfer of goods.
The domestication of the one‐humped camel in the eleventh century bce enabled travelers to cross almost waterless terrain.
Incense and myrrh were the most expensive and sought‐after products that the ancient world needed for its temples. The requisite bushes and trees grew in Hadramaut, Dhofar, Soqotra, and Somalia.
Spices including cinnamon, aloes, and cassia were also trade items.

In antiquity the Arabian Peninsula was part of the cultures of the Near East. This cultural landscape can be divided into three zones.

1. The east coast, with the Arabian Gulf, lay under the influence of Mesopotamian culture, and later Parthian and Sasanian rule.
2. The northwest turned to the Levant and the Mediterranean.
3. Yemen in the southwest developed an independent culture, which also influenced the central regions of the peninsula.

 

Figure 2.1 Al‐ʿUla, statue, probably of a king of the dynasty of Lihyan

The heyday of the Arabian high cultures was the first millennium bce. Taymaʾ in the northwest lay on the main route that led from southern Arabia to Syria, Egypt, and Mesopotamia.
The city was already tied into long‐distance trade in the second millennium bce, and had rich water resources and agriculture.
Al‐khurayba (Dedan), likewise located on the incense route in the well‐watered Wadi al‐Qura, was the capital city of the Lihyan from the sixth to the first century bce.
The temple in the center of the settlement had a rectangular ground plan of 16 × 13.2 m and a terrace at the north side. The roof rested on four rectangular stone pillars. The oversized statues of the kings of Lihyan were set up inside and outside the temple as votive offerings.

 The city cultures in the northeast also flourished most in the pre‐Christian centuries, although Thaj, which some identify with the rich city of Gerrha, had two periods of occupation and continued into the fourth century ce. This large city, with its stone wall, lay astride the east–west trade routes but was provided with precious art objects and artifacts with a Hellenistic character. ʿAin Jawan, the largest ruin of this period in Saudi Arabia, has scarcely been investigated.

In the southwest of Arabia, in Yemen, high cultures arose in Marib, in the Jauf, and in Hadramaut, which qualify as genuinely creative. The center of the dominant Sabaean kingdom, whose culture
radiated as far as Ethiopia, was Marib, site of a famous dam. Already in the early seventh century bce
the great Mukarrib of Sabaʾ, Karibʾil Watar, succeeded in creating a united kingdom extending from Najran in the north to the Gulf of Aden in the south and as far as Hadramaut to the east.

Thus emerged, both culturally and politically, the first large kingdom in South Arabia. Yet
other kingdoms arose in southwestern Arabia, such as Qataban with Timnaʾ as the capital, Hadramaut with its capital Shabwa, Ausan with the city of Miswar, and the kingdom of the Minaeans with the
city of Maʿin.

In spite of various “dialects” of Old South Arabian, the oasis cities formed a cultural unit, especially since they all used the “Sabaean” script in both hieratic and cursive forms, the latter in wood, from the seventh century bce.

Marib, like Shabwa and Timna, lay on the incense route, which led to Maʿin and Najran in the north.
Sophisticated water management fostered intensive agriculture over the millennia.
The famous dam of Marib (sixth century bce, last repairs fifth and sixth centuries ce) was preceded by constructions in the Wadi Dhana, which like the city can be dated to the second millennium bce.

Oases to both north and south, with a surface area of 14 900 hectares, were cultivated with floodwater.


The art of the Sabaeans in its classical period was characterized by its extreme abstraction, as can be seen in the temple buildings preceded by a portico. The distinctive ibex friezes that decorated the temple are of amazing precision and beauty, as are the pillars with their capitals. An earlier temple in the interior of the city, whose portico had eight supports, was “restored” in the eleventh century
ce as the mosque of Solomon.

Various types of temple, some of which probably influenced later mosque architecture, can be distinguished.

In the Sabaean region most of the temples are courtyard complexes, which in the classical period had an inner courtyard surrounded by porticoes. Enclosed hypostyle temples can be found in the Jauf. Temples with a rectangular plan, whose interior space was divided into two rows with three or four supports, are also found in the Jauf (e.g., at Maʿin) and above all in Hadramaut.

They have a bent entrance in Hadramaut, with steps at the side.

Shabwa, the Royal Palace (third century ce).

In addition to the evidence from temple architecture, it is clear that a new house type was introduced in the Sabaean period, which corresponded to the classical Yemeni tower house.
The new architecture is notable for its stone foundation courses with a superstructure of wood and clay.
Portrait heads of marble and alabaster, which were set into grave stelai, or block‐like figures, sitting or standing, show technical skill and an interest in sculptural forms.

Statues of stone or bronze were produced as votive gifts for the deity.

Shabwa the Royal Palace Cont.

Book Reference:
A Companion to Islamic Art and Architecture (Blackwell Companions to Art History Book 12)

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