The Alhambra

 

                The province of Andalusa was described by the Arabs as Paradise. Their love for it was so great that they piously invented a few hadiths. For example, in this particular hadith, the Holy Prophet says “After my death a peninsula will be conquered in the West; its name is Andalusia. Who ever lives there will live in a state of blessedness; whoever dies there will die a martyr...”. Such was the effect of the beauty of this Southern most province of Spain on the invading Arabs in the early part of this melleniam.             

                In the rugged landscape of this province, with rolling hills and vineyards, lies the towns of Granada. In the afternoon the town looks completely deserted. Shops are closed and there is hardly any traffic. This the Spanish tradition of Siesta, or taking an afternoon nap. The old city has narrow streets and small houses who’s main door open right into the street. Behind the main door lies the verandah or courtyard, with a picturesque fountain bounded by plants and greenery of various sorts. A splendid example of functional architecture clearly influenced by the Arabs.

                I could not help but remember my own city Lahore. The similarities with Granada were numerous. Firstly the heat. Then the tradition of the afternoon nap. Thirdly the Old City in Lahore, or what it might have been in its hay days, had an uncanny resemblance the  narrow streets and courtyards of Granada. Lastly, both cities have a an Alhambra, although the one in Lahore was named after the one in Spain.

                The Alhambra was built chiefly between 1238 and 1358 in the reign of the Arab king Al Ahmar and his successors. After the expulsion of the Arabs in 1492, parts were destroyed, only to be rebuilt by Charles V, in 1516, in the modern style of that period.  The result being that the Alhambra has a intriguing mixture of both Christian and Muslim architecture. It is this hybridization that makes Alhambra the masterpiece that it is.

                Sitting high a top a plateau over looking the city, it is enclosed by a strongly fortified wall made of red bricks, from which the name Alhambra , meaning the “the red” in Arabic, has been derived. A twenty minute drive brings one to the gates of the Alhambra from the city. Inside, one is greeted by a giant elm forest, the gentle pattering of little streams of water and the intoxicating smell of roses and oranges. It is hard to believe that one is still in the dry and arid Spanish country side.                                       

                The other wise quick moving hoard of tourists, now walking in a slow daze, make their way through the forest towards the main attraction; the Moorish part of the Alhambra, which included a castle, a palace and a residential area for subordinates.       

                My first thoughts upon entering the palace were, “ Muslims did this?”. No, I’m not unfamiliar with history and the hights that Muslims reached in the early days of their religion. But reading history in books is one thing, to see with ones own eyes is another. And I have seen many a great mosque but never a (Muslim) palace of this magnificence. I suppose it has to do with the fact that simplicity is a basic tenant of Islam and building a opulent palace would be hard to justify. Yet the Moorish Sultans must have realized that you can have magnificence without opulence. Grandeur without a show of wealth.

                Hence I describe the palace as simply glorious. And gloriously simple. There is no gold, no towering pillars or ceilings, no massive halls or courts or throne. The scale is small; and beauty in the detail. Water plays an integral part. It cools, not just the atmosphere, but the eyes. In most palaces, that I happen to have visited seem a monument to materiality and wealth.  Or I am burdened by a feeling of insignificance, or complexity. But here there is peace.                    

                Let me flesh out this thesis , by a few chosen examples. Take for example, the Court of the Myrtles, so called because of the myrtle’s that grow in it. This is a rectangular area in the center of which is a large pond set in the marble pavement.  Flowers and a hedge of deep green border this pond. On the two further ends is a gallery, supported by a marble clonade. Sounds deceptively uninteresting. But look carefully and the real picture surfaces. The intricate pattern carved into the walls and the arches. The stalactite like structures on the ceilings that diffract and play with the light. Or the goldfish swimming happily in the pond and you see that simplicity is beauty.

                And now for the apex in Moorish architecture. A single area, no larger than 110 feet by 65 feet, most of which is in fact nothing more that open air. This is the Court of the Lions. Nothing more (at first glance) than a simple gallery running all along the perimeter of the court, support by thin marble columns. In the center of the pavilion is the Fountain of Lions, a magnificent alabaster basin, supported by the figures of 12 lions of white marble. Yet, this “simple” place had a strange effect on its visitors. Never, in so confined an area (visitors were not allowed to leave the gallery), with so many people ( yes, the place was crawling with tourists ), have I seen people in the grips of a  trance such as this space cast. Shoulders sagged and faces mellowed. Steps lingered endlessly in one spot. Expensive cameras dangled  carelessly low to the ground. Eyes pondered incessantly. Some glanced inward, at the blue and yellow tiles on the walls, profiled in an enamel of blue and gold. Or at the etched calligraphy of the verses of the Quran. Others stared longingly out into the open where stood the proud lions, emblems of  strength and courage.

                Having spent the better part of the day admiring the palace and castle, tired from the heat, it was time to head back into the city. Looking at the guide books, there was one portion that still remained to be seen. This was the Generalife ( the Moorish Jennat al Arif ) or Garden of the Builder. It was described as being comparable to the “splendid Shalimar Gardens” ( which also happens to be in Lahore ). Deciding to make the last effort, I walked towards the gardens. Here I was to be rewarded handsomely for my labour. Lush green beyond belief, housed in little courts not very much unlike those of the palace, were undoubtedly the best gardens that I have ever seen. A long row of fountains ran down the middle squirting sparkling little arches of water through the air. I was filled by such joy that I and placed my warm face in front of one of these jets of water, the result being that I was completely soaked ( but enjoyed every bit of it). Feeling a few degrees cooler, smiling, I looked around to see people staring at me as thought I was deranged. Oh well, I thought to myself, I might have taken this similitude too seriously. In Lahore we jump into the canal and don’t think twice about it!