In the first of two parts, writer Glenn Maffia takes a closer at the archaeological site of Aphrodisias.
It delighted me immensely to recently read that the Aphrodisias Archaeology Workshop shall resume after the Covid enforced hiatus of two years.
Learning to care
This initiative, set in motion in 2018, fulfils an important educational and social criterion which hopefully realises a vast improvement on the appreciation of historical artefacts; their context, their unadulterated quality and beauty, and the constant state of flux which encapsulates civilisations.
I am particularly encouraged that priority admittance to this workshop will be given to children, as open minds absorb so much more than those carrying too much-preconceived baggage, a condition that is anathema to learning.
I wish the project every success, and that it may lead to a greater appreciation rather than the all too familiar exploitation.
A brief history of exploration
As always, before visiting an archaeological site for the first time I prefer to delve into a little research to familiarise myself with the place. And, most certainly, Aphrodisias has a fascinating story of serendipitous good fortune interwoven into its fabric of being a world-renowned ancient site.
Though the site was known and expeditions sent there these merely scratched the surface, if that. Western research teams and the occasional casual traveller began to seek out the ancient city.
During 1812 those intrepid ‘gentlemen of identifying and recording antiquities’, the Dilettanti Society of London, despatched a team consisting of architects and illustrators. Their sterling work produced the first design plan of the city.
The indomitable traveller Charles Texier ventured to the city in 1835 and published his findings in his work ‘Description de l’Asie Mineure’ (Description of Asia Minor).
While, not wishing to be left behind, the director of Istanbul’s Royal Museum (Muze-i Humayun), Osman Hamdi Bey, ventured to Aphrodisias with the intention of beginning an archaeological excavation, though this aspiration never came to fruition.
Nonetheless, the site was on the archaeological map and the first excavation work was not long in coming. Between 1904 and 1905 the French railroad engineer, amateur archaeologist, and collector Paul Gaudin began the first dig within the city.
A second dig was undertaken by Andre Boulanger in 1913, but this excavation was curtailed by the outbreak of World War I. A third excavation of Aphrodisias was started by the Italian Giulio Jacopi in 1937, though this was also left incomplete due to the outbreak of World War II.
Thus, Aphrodisias lay forlornly undisturbed, neglected if not entirely forgotten, gathering a covering of grasses and weeds and the added accumulation of dust and dirt which built up over and suffocated the ruins. And there it lay, with its only companion the small village of Geyre (a Turkic corruption of ‘Caria’).
Rebirth of a vision
In 1958, the Turkish magazine ‘Hayat’ detailed the photojournalist Ara Güler to cover the opening of the Kemer Dam in Aydin province. This is where serendipity arrives in full force, for upon Güler’s return his taxi driver became lost. They decided to find somewhere to stay overnight before continuing their journey the following morning.
They stopped in a remote village (Geyre) and inquired at a local coffeehouse about a place to stay. Güler couldn’t help but notice that the men were playing cards upon a Roman column capital fashioning as a ‘table’.
Comprehending that this capital could have hardly have arrived by chance, it dawned upon him that the village was built upon an antique structure or structures.
Güler arose early the following morning and persuaded some children to show him around the village, whereupon, they showed him around sites which they had been using as a playground. Güler photographed the remains of the Temple of Aphrodite, a stadium and many sarcophagi.
Upon his return to Istanbul, Güler sent the photos of his rediscovery to the American ‘Architectural Review’, whereupon he received a request from ‘Horizon’ magazine asking for colour photos and an article to go alongside the photo essay.
Güler put forward the name of a New York University professor Kenan T. Erim to pen the text; the professor accepted the invitation and proceeded to devote his life to excavating Aphrodisias.
Having American money behind him, Professor Erim could request the village of Geyre, which had recently been damaged by an earthquake, be moved 2 kilometres away (oh, I wish that would have been done here in Didyma!).
There is a rather touching comment from Professor Erim quoted in the Aphrodisias Guide Book, “When I took the road from Nazilli in July 1959, I couldn’t have imagined how important a journey this was going to be.
“Before getting as far as Geyre on a very rough road out of Karacusu, I saw the pillars of the Temple of Aphrodite. The village had completely swallowed up Aphrodisias, but it was nonetheless unable to conceal its wonders.
“Before evening, I returned to Nazilli. In my room in the only hotel in the district, I remember writing ‘This will be a whole new era in my life’’’. And, I believe, ours.