Saturday, November 30, 2024

Kilistra: Living Ancient History

 Photos by Jack A. Waldron


After exploring ancient Lystra, a site with a lot of promise for future excavation, I headed down the road 14 kilometers to ancient Kilistra.  The two sites are usually confused as one site, with Kilistra being identified as the location of both, but this is a mistake, as far as my research has told me.


Though Kilistra was occupied during Roman times, remains of the ancient city/town from that period are most likely under the more modern buildings of the current village (Gokyurt village), or have been incorporated into newer structures over the millennia.


What does remain of the ancient city are the rock-carved structures, which can be found around the citadel and, further out amongst the distant hills.  Pictured above is the main collection of honed out volcanic rock structures, with the large central building known as Saint Paul's Church, which reaches several stories in height.  


Unfortunately, the gated door of the church was locked, so I couldn't enter.  Saint Paul's church has a single nave, with a narthex, naos, bema and apse, as well as some remains of frescos and other religious ornamentation.


It's believed that the site was occupied during the 3C BC, and that these rock-carved structures began to be developed from this early period.  The expansion of these structures continued over the millennia, and oversaw numerous cultural shifts and changes.


Pictured above and below, what appears to be a remnant building member dating from what could be the Hellenistic, Roman, or Byzantine period.  The lead clamp slots in the top surface of the column can be seen, though it is also possible this may have secured a statue.


I have read that one of the rock-carved structures in or near this location was a tomb dating from the Phrygian period, and that based on the artifacts found, it belonged to a king.  I was not able to find any such marked tomb, but I can imagine that a number of these spaces were originally used as tombs.


Early Christians used existing dwellings, and carved out new spaces in an attempt to protect themselves from persecution.


Amongst these structures can be found workshops of various types, such as ceramic workshops, wineries (including one large example), chapels, living and sleeping spaces with kitchens, storage rooms, gathering rooms, intersession rooms, and so on.


Though this area had been settled since the early Bronze Age, and was further developed during the Hellenistic and Roman periods.


It grew substantially in population with Christians moving from Iconium, nearby Lystra, and other cities as people made their way along the main road connecting Seleucia on the coast with Antiocheia Pisidia to the northwest.


Pictured above, an ancient staircase climbs up the slope to a number of chapels, such as the one visible here at the top of the steps, a close-up of which you can see below.


Amongst this group of buildings is the Cross-Planned Chapel (pictured below).  This is one instance in which I wish I had gotten a photo of the whole of the outside of the structure.  I now have a new camera, but I still need to learn how to take panorama photos.


This is one instance in which I wish I had gotten a photo of the whole of the outside of the structure.  I now have a new camera, but I still need to learn how to take panorama photos.


Notice the Christian cross over the quite ornately sculpted door.  I tried to get a couple different angles of the cross, because the roughness of the stone does not allow for fine detail to stand out.


In the photo below, you can see another interesting feature of middle to late Byzantine architecture, that being the templon, which a wall separating the altar from the nave, or naos.


This chapel is very large, and in my opinion it really looks more like a church, with its narthex, large naos, bema and apse.  Pictured below, the main apse, and the smaller right-side apse.


As a chapel, it may have been intended as a grand prayer space that was simply an appendage to the main Church of Saint Paul.  Pictured below, a close-up of the right-side apse.


Perhaps all of the small chapels within this group were basically prayer spaces for the numerous monks that belonged to the monastery.  It's thought that this chapel was constructed sometime during the 7C-8C CE.


Pictured above and below, the left-side apse.  


As you can see in the photo above, the steel door meant to protect the site has been removed.  Vandalism of a number of antiquities at this site will be addressed further down.


The high barrel vaulted bays lead up to an even higher dome, all of which are supported by columns carved from the soft stone (pictured above).


Upon closer examination of the dome, crosses are clearly visible, and they still retain some of the red pigment with which they were once painted.  Further, the patches of white stucco indicate that this whole ceiling was once covered and painted, and may even have had frescos.


This chapel/church is of a quincunx design (a cross design with five divided areas), which is typical for a middle to late period Byzantine church.  Interestingly, behind the dislodged steel door is a deep hole that certainly served some purpose.


Leaving the Cross-Planned Chapel, I continued to follow the staircase up through numerous nooks and crannies that I'm sure once provided a space for some purposeful endeavors.


After twisting and turning through the rock-carved structures (pictured below), the path reaches a peak at a mini-plateau, that I'm sure was once a place of many ancient structures, though build of stone blocks, as opposed to being carved out of the stone. 


Unfortunately, I didn't turn my camera toward the citadel (reverse of the shot below), because there is simply a flat barren landscape with only the footholds of ancient structures.  Some locals use this protected plateau as a repository for their farm equipment.


I find these ancient rock-cut rooms interesting, and I understand the need for shelter, cooking spaces, sleeping quarters, storage areas, but I often question as to why these particular ancients couldn't worship the natural cathedral/s that Mother Nature provided them/us, without hollowing out (literally and figuratively) what it means to be alive by imposing some random structure and narrative upon so many of us humans?


I headed back to my bike and the main road to investigate some very interesting small structures with pediments that dotted the side of slope that leads to the village of Gokyurt.  To my surprise, these elegantly built mini-temples turned out to be cisterns (pictured below).


I really expected block build structures to be ancient burial tombs, as I had never seen cisterns with this style of entrance.  Continuing the discussion of worshiping Mother Nature and all she has to give, I couldn't think of a better way to give Thanks, than to build a temple over this life giving nectar.


That said, the ancient Hittites and Greeks are renown for building dedicatory structures and reliefs near sources of water, such as at Eflatun Pinar, Ivriz, and Fraktin.


Once inside the entrance, rock-cut stairs lead down to the fresh cold spring water.  There is a steel gate on the entrance, but I guess the locals may be using this spring as a convenient source of drinking water when working in the fields.


There is no doubt in my mind that this abundance of spring water is one the main reasons this site was chosen as a settlement, as well as a stopover along the King's Road (though I have questions as to the naming of this thoroughfare).


The hillside is dotted with these unusual elongated stone outcrops (pictured below), that almost resemble the structured cistern buildings, but they are just outcrops as far as can tell.  Perhaps excavation will tell us a deeper story?


Pictured below is another temple cistern entrance, and this one has some unique elaborately sculpted relief within its pediment.


Here at the top center of the pediment we can see what appears to be wreath with some garland draping from its crest.  


I suppose it is possible that these mini-temple cistern structures were built at a later period from the confiscated blocks of other structures, but why would Ottomans build them in the style of Ancient Greek or Roman temples?


Again, fresh spring water abounds, though this pool was littered with garbage.  That said, it's nothing compared to the plastic floating around Karpaz Marina in North Cyprus, what a shame all this plastic in our seas, and for the first time I am seeing micro-plastic bits blanketing large portions of the surface of the marina.


Descending the slope and moving further along the main road toward the village, we come to an ancient road that is ascending the slope, and that goes by the name of the Phrygian Road (pictured below).


Now this is a fascinating artifact; first, because appears to be an original and authentic ancient work, second, if it in fact was constructed by the Phrygians, then that would add some wonderful history to the sight, and third, the rock-cut caves that this road leads to (see further down), may offer some interesting background as to why the Phrygians were here.


If this road was built by the Phrygians, it would mark the furthest southern reach out of central Anatolia  of any Phrygian occupation that I am aware of.


If on the other hand, this road was not built by the Phrygians, then perhaps it is simply the direction to which this road points that may be the reason for its naming, as it clearly points northeast toward central Anatolia, the center of ancient Phrygia.


The Phrygian road was most likely the main thoroughfare used to reach the citadel during ancient times.  As it ascends the slope in the direction of the lower and upper peaks of the acropolis it passes numerous buildings along its route (pictured below), and eventually meets up with a more elevated modern parallel road that also leads up the slope.


I found no church or chapel amongst this group of buildings, and though this may be categorized as a monastery, not having read about any findings from these structures, I really can't say whether that's the case or not.


If my memory serves me, I read that there had been archeological work at this site from the late 90s to the early 2000s, and I could see that all of the structures had had some sort of work done to allow access and or protect the inner structures from harm.


I climbed the steel staircase in front of the first dwelling to find that the protective steel door was broken, and so I entered the space freely.  I found interesting carved-out rooms, some that looked like they were meant for sleeping, others for gathering, and others for cooking with fire pits, and so on.  I also found some archeological bins with tools in them, which I thought was strange, because they should be locked up.


Entering the neighboring dwelling, more of the same, unsecured, work tools and construction materials scattered about, and so on.  I could feel something was not right.


I then moved on to a large room with a very elaborately restored wooden facade and roof.  Like the other rooms, the protective steel gate was open, but I had know idea of the shocking scene I was about to encounter.


I wish I could say that there was an information signpost at this sight to explain how the archeologists arrived at their decision to choose this design of a wooden facade for this ancient structure, but unfortunately there was nothing.


I suppose they needed to protect the sight from the natural elements, and so in the end they had to build something, and if they utilized existing rafter holes in the stone, I guess some design could have been built based on such evidence of a previous structure.


However, what was shocking is that after taking such precautions to protect these antiquities, based on the vandalism I photographed, it was apparent that the site had been neglected by the archeological team, the local government, the military police (Jandarma), who I flagged down to show what had occurred, and the Konya Archeological Museum.


Basically, the Jandarma showed little interest in the destruction, which is strange, because I have had run-ins with Jandarma near other ancient sights, and in those instances they were heavy handed, controlling and aggressive, to the point where they put an end to my photographing an area and forcibly made me leave, even though there wasn't really anything to shoot.  It was just their jurisdiction, and they wielded the power.  But not here at Kilistra, they didn't care.


There are several connecting rooms to this large space, all of which had protective steel doors, and all of which had been broken through.


I almost feel like this was revenge destruction by the locals, as certainly these spaces would have been used by them for generations, and then suddenly a bunch of archeologists come in, forbid access, and lock everything up with steel doors.


Going through the doorway pictured above, which also had a broken steel door and lock, another room opens up with similar living quarters as discussed previously.  One interesting difference was the ladder, which can be seen in the photo below.  This ladder lead up into second story spaces within the rock.


Pictured below, a shot of the distant rock formations across the valley from inside the large wooden roofed structure.  These spaces are very comfortable during the periods of extreme summer heat, and with doors, it would have been warm in winter.


Now, I moved on to a neighboring structure that again, had steel doors with broken locks.  However, this particular room would really bring to home the devastation that vandals can do.


The front portion of this rock-cut dwelling was quite interesting, because it has a front door with an arched window next to it, and inside these features is a space that resembles a front porch.


The front door of this space has an awning made of wood, and as you can see, the archeologists have used the pre-existing slots in the stone to support their new construction.


The opened entrance door to this room is of solid steel construction, and as you can see in the photo above, the red lock has been forced open, and I suspect the culprits were treasure hunters.  I will explain why I think this is the case further down.


The space is quite large, has some connecting spaces, and some very interesting qualities, such as the sitting or lounging bed pictured below.  Imagine this flat bed covered with layers of rug, that would completely hide the access hole that takes you under the bed.  This hidden place could have been used as a hiding space, a storage space for valuables, and may even lead to other rooms in there was a need to escape.


As I explored the rooms more closely, I could see that the space pictured below was a repository for most of the archeological finds from ancient Kilistra.  I also saw that the antiquities stored here had been severely vandalized.


Many of the blue storage trays in the left of these photos had been dumped and scattered around the floor of the space.  


I guess that the vandals were in search of ancient treasure, such as coins, sculptures, weapons, and so on, but perhaps were disappointed to find pottery shards, and human remains.


Many of the pottery shards were meticulously ordered in little labeled zip-lock bags (pictured below), and whether there were more valuable antiquities missing, I just don't know.


More shocking was this human scull (pictured below).  Obviously, it had been smashed on the ground and broken into many fragments by the vandals.  I showed all of this to the Jandarma, but they showed no signs of concern what so ever.


Pictured below, a close-up of the broken scull.  It seems to me that the locals had to be aware of this violation of these antiquities, but there was no effort to re-secure the site, or contact archeological authorities in Konya.


So, when I arrived in Konya I spent a few hours tracking down the archeological department in charge of this site, showed them the photos, and made a report.  They seemed to be very interested and shocked.  We then drank some tea, and I went on my way, not knowing if any action was to be taken.


As I headed into the village, I came across a small municipal building with an overgrown garden with some interesting antiquities lining the driveway (pictured above).  Not surprising, the gate to the entrance of this office was broken (pictured below).


The ends of the protective wall had column capitals as decorative features, while the wall itself had certainly been quarried from some ancient structures (pictured above and below).


On display along the entrance is what appears to be a large stele with a relief of a sword wielding soldier (pictured below), offers some confusing aspects to this ancient site of Kilistra.  While the Hittites (and Phrygians?) must have been aware of the life giving fresh water springs at this location, I do not think any Hittite dedications to these springs have been found.


For some reason, this relief looks pre-hellenistic to me, and it is possible that it could be Persian or Assyrian, but might even be Neo-Hittite or Hittite.  No matter in what period it was sculpted, and while it has some unique beauty, it is quite crude in its quality.  Is it possible that this was a dedicatory warning to those who travelled the 'King's Road' of who was in charge of the fresh water springs, and the encampment?


Pictured below, this is an inscription in Greek, but I can't say what period it comes from.  I suspect that it was inscribed by Greek writing monks from the late-Roman or Byzantine period.  I suppose it could be from the Hellenistic period, but my expertise in dating such inscriptions is severely lacking.


Pictured below, a Roman or late-Roman period relief fragment of a bull and hanging wreath, possibly from a sacrificial altar, or perhaps part of an entablature from a tomb or other small building.


Moving on, I went to explore the western side of the village, and here there are signs of building during ancient times, but unfortunately I didn't have time to climb down the rock face, where I suspect more caves can be found.


Pictured below, a rock-carved watch tower that would have been an important guard post looking west.


Somewhere down in this valley is an ancient bridge, that I believe was built during the Roman period, but I was not aware of the bridge when I road through the area.  That said, I only seen photos of the bridge on the internet, and have as of this writing still not been able to locate it on a map.


Looking back east toward the acropolis (pictured above and below), the upper photo shows the north of the citadel, while the bottom photo shows the south of the citadel.  I meant to photoshop these two pictures together, but time is of the essence.


During the Byzantine period, Kilistra repeatedly came under Persian and Arab attacks from the east, until it fell under Seljuk Turk rule during the 11C CE.   Struggles for control of greater Ikonium (Konya) saw Karamanoglu Alaeddin Ali Bay and the Ottoman sultan Murat I sign a treaty of peaceful existence until the reign of Bayezid I.


Under Sultan Bayezid I, most of Anatolia was concurred, and after several attempts to take Constantinople, and his defeat and capture at the Battle of Ankara in 1402, and death in captivity in 1403, the Ottoman Interregnum or civil war began.


Finally, in 1466 the Karamanid lands and Kilistra were annexed to the Ottomans by Fatih Sultan Mehmed.


Walking around Gokyurt village, which occupies the ancient citadel of Kilistra, the history of the place is continuously reaching out to the observer.


Whether it's the massive stone blocks that have been quarried from the ancient structures that now form the current buildings, or the Ottoman area dwellings that have stood in place for a century and longer, here one steps back in time.


*All photos and content property of Jack A. Waldron (photos may not be used without written permission)

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