| Soli, in North Cyprus, is not far from Guzelyurt. Soli is an ancient town where you can see the ruins of the marketplace from Greek days, a Roman-era theater, and a Byzantine basilica. Step back in time to learn about Soli in the days not long after Constantine the Great made the Christian religion legal. Constantine also moved the capital of the Roman Empire from Rome to Constantinople (modern Istanbul). Meet Georgio. He will explain to you how he made his mosaics during the last half of the 4th century. And you will also see the impact of Constantine’s changes on his life and times.
I am Georgio, who made many of the mosaics at your feet. You are in Soli in the north of Cyprus, the town where the Christian St. Mark was baptized by the Apostle Paul. You see, I know my Christian history, though I myself continue to worship Isis, and our own Cypriot goddess, Aphrodite. Isis promises eternal life to her initiates and Aphrodite was born here. It would be horribly rude to forget her now.
Yes, Constantine made it legal to be Christian, back in 313. I am sure you know the tale. He saw a vision before the Battle of the Milvian Bridge in the year before. Milvian Bridge was the most important battle of his career, and he was greatly outnumbered. His men wore the Christian Cross into battle and triumphed. So Constantine owed Christ a favor and stopped the persecution of his followers.
On Cyprus, we know that we owe to Constantine our new prosperity. He founded New Rome, which we call Constantinople and insured work for the building guilds for the next hundred years or so. If the barbarians don’t come down on us, or the Persians conquer us. Having been owned by every passing Empire for the past thousand years, we in Cyprus are a little cynical.
Constantinople will endure another thousand years and more, you say. Well, well, I am truly surprised. But let me show you this church. It is patterned after the Roman basilica. Once they were legal, Christians came out of hiding and needed a place of public worship. They did not want to copy our temples, so they just use the normal plan for any place of public business, the basilica. The large courtyard with its columns is where the not-yet-baptized stand during the ceremonies.
I am told the three gates and three sections inside represent the Trinity, though the idea of three gods in one is strange, even to me, and I worship cow-headed Isis. The people stand between the columns in the long part, the nave. The rounded section at the end is the apse. You must imagine the building filled with worshippers in their best and brightest clothing. First come the incense bearers, who perfume the church with clouds of sweet smoke. Then the Bishop enters in gorgeous robes, embroidered with gold by Christ-loving women. He is followed by candle-bearers and chanters. It is quite a spectacle, even to me.
It has not been an easy road for the Christians, and I, for one, do not begrudge them their pomp. The Emperors like Christianity, since it makes the Emperor the chief servant of their God. What the Emperor says is what God wants, so all must obey without question. The old-time Romans had us worship the Emperor himself, but of course nobody really believed he was a god. So now the Emperor is not divine, but rules on behalf of God, and that is something everyone can believe.
Theodosius is Emperor now, and has been building in Ravenna, his new Italian capital. The old city of Rome is dying, so they say. The aristocracy of the Romans all through Europe has changed. Once they proudly undertook great public works on behalf of their cities. Now, they live in the country, where they manage their vast estates. The farmers are given land to work for a meager share of the crop. They make everything they need right there on the estate. When the Emperor’s tax collectors come, they are sent away empty handed. Yet they expected to rule the whole world because they had senatorial rank, and custom gave them all the power and privilege the Imperial administration had to offer. Fortunately we had less of that Roman aristocracy here in Cyprus.
In the New Rome, Constantine and his successors could ignore the old aristocracy and elevate men to high status because of their talents. Education and ability have become the best keys to advancement, that and being Christian. Constantine also stabilized the currency. So we have peace and prosperity and I have few complaints beyond the aching in my knees.
But Constantine bound us all to our guilds. My sons, now, must become mosaic artists just as I followed my father. Auxebius has a genuine feel for the art, and I think he can become great. But Markos, Markos hasn’t an artistic bone in his body. I don’t want him relegated to simple geometric no-brain mosaic work, so I am sending him to school. If he can read and write, he can enter the Imperial service and forge his own place in the world.
Their names? Why do my sons have such emphatically Christian names? I had their mother become Christian and raise the boys in that faith when Emperor Justin, called the Apostate, died young and failed to revive paganism. Any fool could see how the wind blew. Isis and Aphrodite have been good to me, but perhaps the Bishop is right and they are grown too old to help mankind any longer.
Enough sad talk! Let me show you how I make pictures with stones. See these squares? They are cut no bigger than my smallest fingernail, all as close as can be to the same size. I use marble and porphyry and many other stones of various colors. I also use tiles made from cereamic, but I do not like them as well as stone. The latest craze is to use pieces of glass. My son, Auxebius, uses them a great deal. I like the glass tiles just for emphasis. But the various powders the glassmakers use give brilliant color, don’t they?
I work in one small section at a time, following the drawing. The squares, we call them tesserae whether they are made of stone, ceramic, or glass, are set directly into this lime cement. Once the picture is complete, I will use more cement to fill all the spaces between the tiles. Once completed, my picture will last for many, many years under the tread of thousands of feet.
Is the picture a goose or a swan? No, I am not offended. Of course I can draw a more graceful swan or a more domestic-looking goose. But I did not intend to do that. You see, it is rumored that Theodosius wants to close the last remaining pagan temples. We Cypriots will have no where to honor Aphrodite, who was born here. Some of us older folk have clubbed together to donate this mosaic.
I told the Bishop it was a goose, a symbol of fidelity in marriage. He approved my sketch. But he is not a well-educated man, nor is he a native of Cyprus. Otherwise he might have seen the goose is very like a swan. The swan, you see, is a symbol of Aphrodite. The dolphins call to mind her birth from the sea. And the fruits remind us how she has kept our island fertile and our people fed all these years.
When the time comes that we can no longer worship our goddess, we will stand near this mosaic and bow with the utmost reverence. Even Emperors and Bishops cannot read hearts.
Copyright 2006 SeaTerra
For a non copyrighted version of this article which can be
reprinted please go to The Mosaics in the Basilica of Soli
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