[The Fortress of Granada Called The Alhambra]: After lunch, we went up again to the Alhambra, on a very high mountain. Ascending a good stretch, we entered into a place that was the prison for Christian captives. At times, there were seven thousand captives between that place and the houses of the Saracens in the city. But in the time of the siege so many died of hunger, that very few remained when Granada was taken; only 1500 remained alive, who were presented to the king when he entered victorious into Granada.
Having entered into the fortress through many iron gates, with many soldiers and officials' rooms, we arrived finally at the superb and sumptuous palace of the governor, whose name is Iñigo López, of the house of Mendoza of Castile, Count of Tendilla and Governor of Granada…who gave us a fine welcome. We saw there uncounted palaces, paved with the whitest marble, gorgeous gardens, adorned with lemon and myrtle trees with benches and lounges of marble at the sides; also four rooms filled with arms, lances, crossbows, swords, armor and arrows, sumptuous bedrooms and chambers; in every room, many basins of very white marble; in the center of one of the palaces a great basin of marble that rests over thirteen [sic ]sculpted lions, also of the whitest marble, with water gushing from each mouth as in a canal. All of this is so superb, magnificent and exquisitely constructed, of so many diverse materials, that you would believe yourself in a paradise.
There was in the bath a beautiful marble basin, where the wives and concubines bathed nude. The king, from a screened place above—and which we saw— contemplated them, and to the one who most pleased him, he threw an apple as a sign that he would sleep with her that night.
All the palaces and rooms, in the upper part, have such superb inlaid ceilings and ceiling tiles made with gold, lapis lazuli, marble and cypress, of such varying styles, that one can't write about them or describe them. We went up to the top of two very high towers and contemplated the situation of the city, but one can scarcely see half of it. I don't think there is a bigger city in all Europe nor in Africa.
There are many Saracens building in the city. There are also many of them who are reconstructing the fortress and royal sites that were left in ruins, since the King of Granada, after realizing that he could resist the most Christian King of Spain, allowed many buildings to be destroyed…when we were there, we saw many Saracens adorning and restoring the paintings and other things with their characteristic delicacy.
Within the Alhambra there is a superb and noble mosque—that is now dedicated to the Blessed Virgin Mary and is the seat of an archbishop. A monastery has also been founded of the Minor Brothers of the Order of Saint Francis. The king has, beyond the walls of the Alhambra, at the top of a mountain, a truly royal and very famous garden, with fountains, a pool, and little brooks, so exquisitely constructed by the Saracens, that there is none better.
What Münzer saw:
Münzer may not have been the very first non-Spaniard to visit the Alhambra after Fernando and Isabella appropriated it, but was the first to report on it (and his account has been used by archaeologists and art historians involved in its reconstruction). He would have been able to see everything accessible, thanks to his contact with the Count of Tendilla, the man whom the Catholic monarchs entrusted with its administration (Münzer and his companions relied on letters of introduction from the governor of Almería, a practice they had been taking advantage of throughout their trip—you get the current person with connections to recommend you on to the next stop—a late medieval version of Tripadvisor.com, making appointments to get into places in advance, and flashing your business card).
The Alhambra, according to our traveler, was not a pristine royal city, though it was dazzling as it stood. Although he attributes damage to the palaces to the siege by the Christians, it had been falling into disrepair under the last few turbulent and often short-lived Nasrid regimes. The Catholic Kings, as our chronicler remarked, were not only having local craftspeople restoring damages to the palaces, but also adapting them to their needs. There were many more palaces then than there are now; as a matter of fact, the Palace of Yusuf III, where Münzer was received by the Count, is now reduced to gardens and a few walls. Visitors today see only two: the Palacios de Comares and Leones.
In the fortress-city, the Catholic Kings had already founded a Franciscan monastery and changed the main mosque to a church, as well as rigging a bell on the foremost tower of the Alcazaba, the fortified military section of the site, where Münzer took in the view.
What’s There Now: (June 3, 2011)
Münzer certainly saw the two extant palaces—he mentions the luxurious bath of the Comares Palace, where the King chose his bed partners from his harem, and the famous Lion Fountain, with its twelve, (not thirteen) stylized marble beasts. He would have seen much more in the way of precious adornments, wooden screens and doors, fine pottery, Nasrid textiles—a few of these are still in the Archeological museum. The gorgeous inlaid wooden ceilings and the complex domes adorned with muqqarnas that look like a forest of icicles have been carefully restored and cleaned. And the fabulous gardens, big and small on many levels and with carefully planned balcony views of some from various palace rooms are still visible. Something of the spirit of this independent, opulent, highly fortified royal city still exists.
What Münzer Would Never Have Seen:
Aside from the tourists who swarm the site, Münzer would have been spared Charles V’s massive circle-within square palace built as a 16th-century symbol of the triumph of Renaissance Christianity that dominates the space between the military zone and the delicate palaces, as well as the small but equally monolithic church dedicated to the Virgin near it that replaced the old mosque. The former Franciscan convent is now a luxury Parador, where visitors can sample a reconstructed Nasrid menu.
But above all, visits to the Nasrid palaces are now highly structured: a permanent blockbuster exhibition, tickets must be purchased in advance, metered with a prescribed start time, and a visitor’s time and access within the splendid buildings are limited. A gaggle of cameras click, groups ooh and ahhh and march ever onwards.
At the time of this visit, the lion fountain is dismantled; it’s being restored and the water system of its fountain improved. For this reason, access to the Lion Palace is cut back, and its gorgeous courtyard is off limits, covered with scaffolding.
The Art Historian Speaks:
I’ll admit I’m prejudiced: Charles’s Palace is a bull in the Nasrid china shop, its heavy rusticated façade and bare circular courtyard is such an eyesore (and the church of the Virgin is not really a good fit either). But Charles probably loved his palace. It was then in the latest style (even though it was never finished during his lifetime).
Like every historical site, what we see now is very different from a living, breathing Nasrid royal city. Beautiful as they are, these palaces were not built to last (successive kings built new ones, and though gorgeous, the building materials were inexpensive and their decorations ephemeral). Napoleon’s troops really trashed the place, and when Washington Irving visited in the 19th century, the surviving palaces were in a state of picturesque ruin. I first visited the Alhambra in 1965, forty years after Architectural historian Torras Balbas supervised the first restoration campaign. At that time of year (December) there weren’t many visitors, and you could linger anywhere for a long as you liked. In 1973, the International Congress of the History of Art was held in Granada and attendees had the Alhambra, for a few magical hours, all to themselves. Andrés Segovia gave a guitar concert in the lion court, and there was an evening cocktail reception with various bands tucked into corners of the Generalife Gardens just for us. Maybe that captured some of the spirit of the glory days—but maybe not.
There are not many photos in this particular blog entry. So many terrific guidebooks and photographs are out there, both in print and on the web, that I’ll leave you to graze them yourselves.
The Art Historian Speaks:
I’ll admit I’m prejudiced: Charles’s Palace is a bull in the Nasrid china shop, its heavy rusticated façade and bare circular courtyard is such an eyesore (and the church of the Virgin is not really a good fit either). But Charles probably loved his palace. It was then in the latest style (even though it was never finished during his lifetime).
Like every historical site, what we see now is very different from a living, breathing Nasrid royal city. Beautiful as they are, these palaces were not built to last (successive kings built new ones, and though gorgeous, the building materials were inexpensive and their decorations ephemeral). Napoleon’s troops really trashed the place, and when Washington Irving visited in the 19th century, the surviving palaces were in a state of picturesque ruin. I first visited the Alhambra in 1965, forty years after Architectural historian Torras Balbas supervised the first restoration campaign. At that time of year (December) there weren’t many visitors, and you could linger anywhere for a long as you liked. In 1973, the International Congress of the History of Art was held in Granada and attendees had the Alhambra, for a few magical hours, all to themselves. Andrés Segovia gave a guitar concert in the lion court, and there was an evening cocktail reception with various bands tucked into corners of the Generalife Gardens just for us. Maybe that captured some of the spirit of the glory days—but maybe not.
There are not many photos in this particular blog entry. So many terrific guidebooks and photographs are out there, both in print and on the web, that I’ll leave you to graze them yourselves.
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