by Caroline Stern
Oluşturulma Tarihi: Şubat 28, 2009 00:00
ISTANBUL - Caught between the triumphant charging of distant war horses and the protracted battle being waged on Constantinople's last crumbling wall, visitors to the tiny 1453 Panorama Museum can hardly be blamed for feeling slightly out of place.
Originally planned to open on the anniversary of the conquest last year, the 1453 Panorama Museum in Istanbul’s Zeytinburnu district opened last month to high praises from Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan.
As the newest museum in the city, 1453 Panorama marks one of the pivotal moments in Istanbul’s rich history. The Ottoman conquest of the city in 1453 comes alive in a small new window into a long-gone world. Within the tiny astronomical dome senses are tickled with surprisingly overwhelming feelings as multiple scenes come alive at once. One can smell smoke and see burnt ground, and hear rattling cannonballs fly from ashen machines poised mid-use in front of one’s new enemy. Outside it pours rain, but inside it is still the eternal dusk of May 29, 1453.
Istanbul conquest
The day marked the end of the two-month siege waged by the incoming Ottoman armies against the Byzantine Empire, which had held the city Ğ first Byzantium and then Constantinople Ğ for more than a millennium. At the end of the 15th century the city's population was divided after Emperor Constantine XI’s attempt to gain favor with the pope had resulted in reuniting the divergent Eastern Orthodox and Catholic churches under one flag. The decision seems to have caused great internal rivalry and a sudden preference for foreign Muslim Ottoman command rather than a seemingly treacherous ruler of their own faith. Despite several unsuccessful Ottoman attempts to attack the city via ships through the Golden Horn, it was the eastern gates that proved to be the advancing army's biggest obstacle. When Fatih Sultan Mehmet, the Conqueror’s, army finally managed to enter the city through an unlocked door, the end of the siege became apparent, and Constantinople became Istanbul.
The crumbling walls inside the museum look much as they do outside in Topkapı Park, if a little less colored and devoid of the uncontrolled fires of a war waged by bows, arrows and cannon fire. Some of the men are shown proud, war-like and beautifully clothed, while others are depicted dragging away bodies or encouraging military marches.
Men charge toward the audience on horseback and scramble with wooden staircases up the wall from where others are thrown violently down by catapults and cannonballs. Battle music rings faintly in the early summer breeze. The images along the walls seem eerily similar to one another but the exhibit is thankfully devoid of any stand alone, life-size figures that would make it unbearably kitsch. The destroyed walls fall away to reveal broken church bells dotting the rest of the extensive, and seemingly undisturbed, Constantinople.
Still an attraction
The museum opened as a spectacle worthy of none less than the prime minister and his entourage last month. But the crowds have not died down Ğ high school students are bussed en masse to ogle at the scenes of war and conquest and tourists amble through the exhibits. The exhibit’s inauguration celebrates Istanbul's reign as the European Capital of Culture in 2010, a title the city is trying hard to live up to through many events and celebrations across the city. None, however, seem quite as vicariously inviting as this.
The museum was a 2.1 million Turkish Liras investment and took three years to complete. The entrance fee is 5 liras. It is discounted to 3 liras for students and the fee is 10 euros for tourists.