Verticality, Part VII: Heavens on Earth
Humanity’s first major attempts to recreate heaven on earth
This chapter is part of a series that compose the main verticality narrative. The full series is located here.
In the previous chapter, we explored ancient civilizations and how they utilized verticality in their architecture. In each of these civilizations, building a structure that connected the surface to the sky was seen as the pinnacle of human achievement. This was done to appease or satisfy some type of god or gods, and untold amounts of time and effort were spent on the road to achieving it. Throughout time, however, the needs of our gods would begin to see competition from the needs of humanity, or our own Ego. This conflict between God and Ego, discussed previously in the Global Threads chapter, would come to define many of our struggles with verticality throughout history.
We’ll now focus in on the thread of Western civilization, beginning with the Ancient Greeks and Romans, where the first signs of a tension between God and Ego began to manifest in the built environment.
Ancient Greeks (circa 600BC-100AD)
The Ancient Greeks were the first civilization where we see the needs of God begin to compete with the needs of Ego through the built environment. The Ancient Greeks were polytheistic, meaning they worshipped multiple gods, and believed the peak of Mount Olympus, the tallest mountain in Greece, was where their gods resided. As a result of this belief, the Ancient Greeks would place their most important buildings at the highest places in the landscape, in order to be closer to God. This is an evolution of the need for defense, but the Ancient Greeks approached it differently than previous civilizations.
An 1846 painting by Leo von Klenze titled Akropolis, showing the Athenian Acropolis perched atop a hill in the center of the city. The Greeks were using verticality to establish hierarchy in their capital. Image source.
In a typical Ancient Greek town, only the most important buildings (temples) would be placed on high ground, called an acropolis. The surrounding city or town was built on lower ground, creating a distinct vertical hierarchy. For the Ancient Greeks, only God could be closest to the sky, while humanity existed down below. The acropolis served as a religious citadel and was usually anchored by a temple. The most famous example of this vertical hierarchy is at the Acropolis of Athens, which is anchored by the most famous of all the Greek temples, the Parthenon. Other examples of temples built on high places include the Temple of Poseidon at Sounion, the Temple of Aphaia at Aegina, the Temple of Apollo Epicurius at Bassae, the Temple of Athena at Assos, the Temple of Athena Polias at Pergamon, the Temple of Zeus at Cyrene, and Temple D at Akragas. In addition to being placed on high ground, the design of each temple would further reinforce the Greeks’ need for verticality.
The Ancient Greeks built their temples to be the house of a particular god. Inside each temple, a cult statue of said god resided. This statue is a key aspect of temple design for the Ancient Greeks; by building houses for their gods on the surface of the earth, they were attempting to recreate heaven on earth. Furthermore, nearly all Greek temples were oriented to the east, toward the rising sun. This orientation created a direct connection between the world of the surface and the world of the sky.
The Lighthouse of Alexandria, built by the Greeks to convey the power and wealth of the Greek people. The building also embodies the metaphors of the human body and the mountain, and is a precursor to modern skyscrapers. Illustration by Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach from 1721.
Nearly all major works of architecture in Ancient Greece were religious in nature, but significant secular buildings would begin to appear as well. One notable example was the Lighthouse of Alexandria. Most likely built in the third century BC, the structure had three tiers, and was believed to be 100 meters (330 feet) tall.[1] This structure is significant for two reasons. First, it embodies both metaphors discussed in the previous chapter: the bipedal human body and the mountain. The building is a singular example of verticality, standing upright and tall, tying it closely to the singular nature of the bipedal human body. In addition, its tiers, or setbacks, result in diminishing floor area as one ascends the structure, much like a mountain. At its summit, the Greeks placed a statue of Zeus, which can be seen as a metaphor for the summit of Mount Olympus, where the Greeks believed Zeus to live. The second significant aspect was its function. It’s true that the building served as a lighthouse, but this was ancillary to its true function: to display the power and wealth of the Greek people. Think of it as architectural chest-puffing. The scale and height of the lighthouse would no doubt instill a sense of awe in any visitor who approached the Alexandria harbor, as if to say, look at how rich and powerful we are if we can build something this tall!
Etching from 1880 by Sidney Barclay showing a possible location and posture for the Colossus of Rhodes.
Another example of architectural chest-puffing by the Ancient Greeks was the Colossus of Rhodes. Built in the third century BC, the Colossus was a 33 meter (108 feet) bronze statue of the Greek god Helios, built on the Greek island Rhodes. It was constructed to celebrate the Rhodian’s victory over Demetrius I, who had laid siege to the city of Rhodes from 305-304 BC. The Colossus of Rhodes was the tallest statue in the ancient world, and the intent behind the structure was much the same as the Lighthouse of Alexandria. The Rhodians were displaying their power and wealth to anyone who looked upon the statue. Another notable detail about the statue is embedded in the three surviving accounts of the statue, from Strabo, Pliny the Elder, and Philo of Byzantium. Each account is very unique in its description, but all three specifically mention the statue’s height of 70 cubits. For these writers, the verticality of the statue was one of it’s defining feature.[2]
Through their town planning and building design, the Ancient Greeks set the stage for our further struggles with verticality throughout history: the struggle between God and Ego. Ancient Greek temples were the former, and the Lighthouse of Alexandria was the latter.
Ancient Romans (circa 750BC-475AD)
The Ancient Romans would continue the trends of verticality that the Ancient Greeks wrestled with. The tension between God and Ego would continue, and secular buildings would gain prominence throughout Roman towns and cities. Religious buildings would still remain the most ambitious of their construction projects, however. One of their most famous buildings of all, the Pantheon, provides us with a few crucial insights into their struggles with verticality.
A section of the Roman Pantheon, drawn in 1790 by Giovanni Battista Piranesi. The building was built as a house of the gods and represents an attempt to recreate the heavens on earth.
The Pantheon was built as a Roman temple, and much like Ancient Greek temples, it was built as a house of the gods. Of interest here are two aspects of the building. First, its site within Rome; it was built at ground level and not up on a hill. The Ancient Romans were continuing the tradition of their predecessors by building a house for their gods, but they didn’t place it on high ground. The second aspect is its interior; its cavernous, domed space was designed to draw the eye upward towards the central oculus, or skylight. The oculus was open and uncovered, resulting in an interior space with a direct connection to the sky. As a result, the space is of the surface but looks directly up to the heavens. These two breaks with tradition represent a shift in the human relationship with verticality. Instead of moving closer to the heavens, the Ancient Romans were trying to bring the heavens down to the earth. Examples of other Roman domes with oculi include the Temple of Mercury at Baiae, the Tomb of Caecilia Metella in Rome, and Nero’s Domus Aurea, also in Rome.
Elsewhere in Ancient Roman towns and cities, secular buildings and structures began to gain prominence. Much like the aforementioned Lighthouse of Alexandria, the Ancient Romans built monumental lighthouses as well. The most notable example was the Tower of Hercules, which still stands today in the Spanish town of Coruña. The differences between these two structures embody the larger shifts in the verticality narrative. The Tower of Hercules no longer incorporates setbacks into its design, and doesn’t feature a statue of a god at its summit. It is a singular expression of height, and more of a pure tower that doesn’t reflect religious values. These aspects shift away from the mountain metaphor and much closer to the metaphor of the human body. Thus, the nascent shift from God to Ego that the Romans were wrestling with was manifesting in their built constructions.
Left: a 1792 drawing of the Tower of Hercules by Joseph Cornide. Right: a 1921 drawing of Trajan’s Column by Banister Fletcher.
Another notable structure that the Ancient Romans developed was the triumphal column. These structures were built to commemorate an emperor or event, and are direct descendents of Ancient Egyptian obelisks. Unlike the obelisks, however, these structures weren’t religious in nature; they were built to honor an emperor or ruler. At the summit of each column was a statue for the individual being celebrated. Much like a menhir, triumphal columns are pure expressions of height that serve to raise the statue up to a higher plane, above the rest of us. Examples of Roman triumphal columns are scattered all over Europe and the Mediterranean, with the most famous examples being Trajan’s Column and the Column of Marcus Aurelius, both in Rome.
In addition to the major constructions discussed here, Roman cities were also beginning to grapple with the needs of density. As the population of the city grew, more people needed to be housed on the same amount of land, which necessitated higher levels of density through upward growth. As a response, the Romans developed the insulae, or dense, multi-story housing blocks in order to cope with their larger populations.[3] Insulae are the first major example of two timeless concepts in the verticality narrative. First, the need to build up instead of out, requiring buildings to grow taller in order to achieve higher levels of density. Second, the added height of the insulae caused safety problems for the Romans, leading to multiple emperors establishing height limits on them.[4] As we’ll see in the following chapters, the concepts of building up instead of out and regulating building heights are common throughout history, and we’re still wrestling with each today.
Between the Pantheon, the Tower of Hercules, triumphal columns, and the insulae, we can get a sense of how the Ancient Romans were grappling with verticality and the tension between God and Ego. These concepts would continue to evolve throughout time, but the emergence of a major religious force would become central to the struggle and would grow to define entire civilizations.
Book of Genesis (circa 500-400BC)
The Book of Genesis is a document that would have profound effects on the history of humanity. The proliferation of belief systems that have roots in this text would forever change the human world, the most notable of which being Christianity. It is also full of references to verticality and the human struggle to escape the surface of the earth. As with most religious belief systems, the Book of Genesis outlines a clear idea of the natural vertical hierarchy of the surface, the sky and the Underground, with the concepts of Heaven and Hell central to the narrative. According to the text, humanity exists on the surface of earth with Heaven up above and Hell down below. An individual’s actions during their life would determine whether he or she would ascend to Heaven or descend to Hell after death. This duality is central to the book’s narrative, and many stories therein deal directly with it.
One example is Jacob’s Ladder. As the story goes, the character of Jacob dreams of a ladder that connects the earth to Heaven, with angels of God ascending and descending it.[5] There are many interpretations of the meaning behind the ladder, but at its core it represents the connection between the surface and the sky, and the process of ascending it represents a human transcending the surface to a higher cosmic level.[6] The ladder is a linking mechanism, much like the tree or the mountain, and religious belief systems commonly use it as a symbol of this. Other examples include Ra’s ladder in Ancient Egyptian mythology and Mohammed’s ascent to Heaven in the Quran, called Mi’raj, which translates literally to ‘ladder’.[7]
An artist’s interpretation of The Tower of Babel, painted by Lucas van Valckenborch in 1594. The story of its construction is an example of our innate need for verticality. Image source.
Another example of verticality in the Book of Genesis is the parable of the Tower of Babel. As the story goes, a united humanity attempts to build a tower so tall that it would reach Heaven in order to ‘make a name for ourselves’. When God sees this, he ‘confounds their language’ so that ‘they may not understand one another’s speech’.[8] God then scatters humanity across the globe. This parable perfectly illustrates humanity’s innate need to escape the surface of the earth. The Tower of Babel symbolizes the tension between God and Ego, with human pride a central concept to the narrative.[9] Another related example can be found in the Greek myth of Icarus, who flew too close to the sun after receiving the gift of flight.
The Book of Genesis and the subsequent rise of Christianity, along with the foundations of the Ancient Greek and Ancient Roman civilizations would provide the initial thrust for the rise of Western culture. These concepts and belief systems would take over architectural history and the history of verticality, which will be explored in the next chapter. The battle between God and Ego would continue to rage, with the pendulum shifting away from God and towards Ego.
Keep reading: Verticality, Part VIII: God versus Ego.
[1]: Clayton, Peter A.. "The Pharos at Alexandria." In Clayton, Peter A., and Martin J. Price. The Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. London: Routledge, 1988. 147.
[2]: Ibid, 124-137.
[3]: Vitruvius. The Ten Books on Architecture. Translated by Morris Hicky Morgan. Mineola: Dover Publications, 1980. II, 8, 17.
[4]: Peet, Gerard. "The Origin of the Skyscraper." CTBUH Journal 2011, no. 1 (2011): 18-23.
[5]: Book of Genesis 28:10–17
[6]: Chevalier, Jean, and Alain Gheerbrant. The Penguin Dictionary of Symbols. Translated by John Buchanan-Brown. New York, NY: Penguin Books, 1996. 583.
[7]: Chevalier, 583.
[8]: Genesis 11:1–9
[9]: Chevalier, 1022.