A long time ago in the Greek myths, two deities had a contest to win the patronage of present day Athens. Athena, goddess of wisdom, strategy, and chariots, gave the Greeks the olive. Poseidon offered a salt-water spring. Not surprisingly, the ancient Athenians favoured Athena’s gift and named their city for her. The Parthenon, perched on a flat mountain with many natural springs, was a dedication to Athena.
The Acropolis was built to inspire awe. In it’s heyday, the rocky plateau was home to the gods. Brilliant marble pillars, ornately carved reliefs, and kores (maidenly statues bearing offerings) adorned each temple. The site has survived fire, pillaging, gunpowder, and overeager archaeologists for 2492 years. Wide marble steps line the path up to the acropolis and have been given a glassy polishing by tens of thousands of feet over thousands of years. Even with the crowds, I found it easy to imagine the ancient Athenians carrying offerings, sitting in the amphitheater, and retreating to the plateau during a siege.
Falling back on my Bio 11 vocabulary, there are form-function relationships in architecture dedicated to the Gods. The Mayan pyramids are towering structures that dominate the landscape—much like the Acropolis. However, the Mayan temples are steep sided structures that are perilous to ascend. The stairs are so narrow, and the slope so great, that “to climb” is a better verb than “to walk”. In Greece, the road to the Acropolis is wide, the slope gradual, and is easy to walk. The difference between the two architectural styles is based on their function. In the Mexico, the pyramids are only for the priests, the human sacrifices, and the Gods. The Greek temples were a place where the community gathered. The amphitheater is below the Parthenon—one of the biggest sacred sites in Greece.
The modern city of Athens radiates out from the Acropolis in a haphazard manner. From the air, the city appears like an amoeba, spreading its pseudopods around the hills, encroaching on every empty space. Even though the hills are covered with a smoggy haze, Athens doesn’t feel like a dirty city. The city does feel old, tired, and very stretched—like Bilbo Baggins. Looking out at the endless sea of buildings, I can forget that I am in the city where the gods battled, and where Aristotle and Plato philosophized. But then I realize that I am in the city that developed democracy… and I feel the connection across time.
2 comments:
When my sister and I were in Athens, we of course visited the Acropolis and then came down the back way, which is a long steep stairway. We passed some U.S. tourists climing up that way, one woman panting and saying "This is even worse than Delphi." We thought this was hilarious, and it became our byword for the rest of the trip.
I was recently told that Mexican pyramids are actually located in plazas where people congregated... Which is why ballcourts are always located in plazas near the pyramids, along with tzompantlis (skull racks) to impress the masses. So not very different from the Greeks after all.
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