Figure 6.17. Design of Giza granite “couch”
From a manufacturing perspective, this piece would be more difficult to manufacture than the cornice. The cornice has a simple contour that is projected along a precise path without interruption. The “couch” has three vertical walls that I call arms and back with a transitional and true 0.4375-inch (11.112-millimeter) tangent “blend” radius between the profile of the seat and the vertical arms and back that is consistent by comparative measure all around. The comparative measure was made from forming wax that was pressed into the radius and then checked in several places along the arm and back (see figure 6.18).
Figure 6.18. Checking the corner radius (Photograph courtesy of Dan Hamilton, 2004)
The seat of the “couch” comprises tangent radii that flow down to the front with no discernible variation, ripple, dips, bumps, or ridges. The quality and precision of the piece are the same as on the cornice near the Valley Temple. The only drift from perfection is a crack that runs perpendicular to the length. The radii are expressed in figure 6.19 as three circles. There are slight variations in this view because of the unevenness of the broken ends. The inset shows the end view without the drafted overlay.
Figure 6.19. Radial components of the “couch”
I inspected the seat by holding the straight edge at several locations along its length and around the contour. There was no variation in the accuracy of the contour along the length of the seat (or the radii’s axes).
We can clearly see the machinist-friendly feature of the couch in the corner of figure 6.20—the radius relief in the corner. This technique is commonly used by designers who wish to have a corner that has strength and also allows for the use of a larger, instead of a weaker, tool in machining. In view A-A in figure 6.17, we see the difference. Using a tool the diameter of D instead of E along with a relief cut into the seat allows straightedge C to fit closer to the arm.
The contoured block on the Giza Plateau is an extraordinary piece. Because of its design, it suggests that it was made so that another component would fit against it—but I have no idea what that other component could be and what it would do. Perhaps it too, like the cornice, was merely another architectural element that had been broken out of its original place and has been lying out in the open on the plateau for millennia.
Figure 6.20. Inspecting the accuracy of the seat
In 2006, while traversing the plateau to the east of the Great Pyramid, I came across an unusual doorway that sparked a connection in my mind to what I had written about in The Giza Power Plant and what I have puzzled over for years. The cornice block on the south side of the Valley Temple had diverted my attention from the block I was taking Stephen Mehler to see, but with this new evidence, a case for a connection between the Valley Temple cornice and the contoured block on the plateau started to emerge.
My focus in this book is the evidence of engineering and engineering symbolism behind ancient Egyptian artifacts. As we have seen, there is symbolism behind their design and use of sacred geometry, such as the Pythagorean triangle, the Golden Ratio, and the Fibonacci spiral. To the ancient Egyptians, doors held a special symbolism. They even went so far as to create false doors in their buildings that had all the architectural elements of a door except a functional opening. When I saw this door, then, I naturally wondered about the purpose or symbolism behind the round-shaped lintel. To include it in the design of a doorway took a great deal of extra effort—and what purpose did it serve? The doorway into the temple at Saqarra has a similar inexplicable design that elicits all manner of speculation. There, the stone is cut to resemble a series of round beams spanning the temple entrance. Throughout the Saqarra temple complex, symbolism has not taken a backseat. The complex is replete with unusual and perplexing architectural details that give us the feeling that while the Egyptians were engineering, they were thinking about the inexplicable mysteries of the universe.
These ancient doors, however, suggest a use for both the cornice and the contoured block on the Giza Plateau. In figure 6.23, we can see that the two complement each other very well. They also provide us with a reason why there are not dozens of granite cornices outside the Valley Temple. Quite simply, the Valley Temple may not have had cornices on top of its walls, but it had one in a position of prominence over an important gateway or doorway. What remains a mystery, however, is this: if the lintel and the cornice were at one time used on the same doorway, how did they arrive at their current locations, several hundred yards or meters apart?
Figure 6.21. Doorway east of the Great Pyramid
Figure 6.22. Doorway to the Temple at Saqarra
Figure 6.23. The mysteries that may lie beyond a door
Now that we have discerned the possible architectural perfection in the doorway, we must travel through it to Upper Egypt, where the cornice is in elevated abundance and glorified by a brilliant execution of design. We must next go to Denderah, where the precision of a Rolls Royce might come to mind. Denderah is a finely crafted jewel in the desert. Though tattered and worn from the ravages of time, the Great Hypostyle Hall’s rough edges recede after a few hours of study, and the consummate intelligence of Egypt’s architects, engineers, and artisans comes to life.
7
The Shadows of Denderah
No man can reveal to you aught but that which already lies half asleep in the dawning of your knowledge.
KAHLIL GIBRAN, THE PROPHET ON TEACHING
Figure 7.1. The Temple of the goddess Hathor at Denderah
The record of precision found at the Temple of Amun Mut Khonsu in Luxor was a surprising discovery, because I did not expect to find the same level of precision that I found in and around the pyramids, which I viewed as being more mechanical than the temples in both geometric appearance and functionality. It was inspiring to learn that the temples in Upper Egypt were crafted using an application of manufacturing exactness that rivaled the pyramids—and that reinforces the importance of the temple in the ancient Egyptian culture.
Cathedrals, churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples are functional structures. Though built as a tribute to a culture’s god or gods, most places of worship are constructed to reflect the highest ideals and skills that humans have reached at that time. Some may argue that in today’s world, those ideals have declined, if we judge by the architecture and building materials that are used in modern buildings and compare them to those used for the monolithic and grand architecture of our ancestors. The temple in ancient Egypt was a functional construction that was probably more a part of the ancient Egyptians’ life than the pyramids. It was a place for the public to interact with its gods, to experience the energies of the holy of holies, and to become rejuvenated within a structure that people knew had an important message for them on many levels. They interacted with the temple both consciously and subconsciously. Perhaps not knowing all of its mysteries, but gaining insights into a reality that was cosmic in proportion, their minds and consciousness were expanded to embrace their surroundings, as the temple embraced them.
From Luxor, Judd and I traveled to the temples of Abydos and Denderah. Because we were not a part of a tour group, we hired a taxi and became part of a convoy that left Luxor at 8:00 a.m. sharp. It was an interesting transaction. We were approached by a man near the Sheraton Hotel who gave us a card that had a nice-looking photo of a Mercedes on the front with his photograph and phone number. I asked him how much he would charge to travel to Denderah. He then showed me his car, which was a Peugot station wagon in good condition. Not a Mercedes, I thought, but okay. We hired him for the trip. He picked us up in the morning in a beat-up older Peugeot and promptly drove to his brother’s house, got him out of bed, and turned the responsibility of driving over to him. His brother, Hamde, not quite as polished and smooth as Ahmed, rushed out of his house, pulling his galabeya over his head, and drove like a madman to connect with the convoy.
In this land known for its enigma and wonder, a helter-skelter taxi ride at the ta
il end of a convoy of tourist buses dispels all romantic notions of the past. Twenty-first-century Egypt flies by with all the clatter and confusion of the modern world. We were heading sixty kilometers north of Luxor to the provincial city of Qena. Though security is one reason tourists are convoyed with armed policemen to these ancient temples, a more pressing concern is to move large masses of people efficiently, in accordance with a very tightly controlled schedule.
Though we visitors may sit back and feel special about the extraordinary measures that are taken to ensure that we have a fast, comfortable, and safe passage along these stretches of road, during our journey, it soon became quite clear why side roads are closed and armed guards are posted at the intersections. The taxi in which we were traveling had to stop for gas, and during the refueling period, the entire convoy passed and the side roads had opened up, spilling all manner of chaos into our path. Fortunately, a Nissan police vehicle held back for us and shepherded us through the bedlam with its siren and honking horn and with a driver whose sharp words showed no respect for man or beast. Without doubt, a journey that usually takes one to one and a half hours would have been increased exponentially under these chaotic conditions if we didn’t have someone clearing our way.
Our destination was one of the most enigmatic sites in all of Egypt: the Temple of Hathor at Denderah. In ancient times it was known as the Castle of the Sistrum. It was so named after the sistrums (ancient Egyptian percussion instruments or hand-held rattles) carved intricately in relief on the walls and, more strikingly, those atop the faces of Hathor that form the capitals of the columns, which soar to a height of 50 feet (15.24 meters) in the Great Hypostyle Hall. The temple is also known as Per Hathor (Per being an ancient Egyptian word to describe “house of”), the House of Hathor, or the Domain of Hathor. Throughout Egypt’s dynasties, it was said to have been a place of pilgrimage and worship, but after the ruin of the pharaonic way, Denderah was abandoned and left to the encroachment of windblown sand that piled high outside the temple and inside the Great Hypostyle Hall. For more than a thousand years—until the middle of the nineteenth century—Hathor’s temple remained inundated by the desert.
Figure 7.2. The Great Hypostyle Hall at Denderah
Like other temples of the Nile, the Temple of Hathor has a long history and has been modified or rebuilt a number of times. Some of its architecture dates to the Ptolemaic and Roman period during the first century BCE. On a rear external wall relief are depicted Cleopatra and her son Ptolemy XV, Philopator Philometor Caesar, who was fathered by Julius Caesar. The Romans constructed a birth house next to the entrance, and the Coptic Christians erected a church.
During the New Kingdom (1550–1070 BCE) Thutmose III, Amenhotep III, and Ramses II and III are believed to have added to the structure. There is also an older birth house and an eleventh-dynasty chapel dedicated to King Nebhepetre Mentuhotep II, but there is reason to suspect that its original foundation dates back to a remote period of time. Inscriptions on the present structure refer to the work of earlier builders. The oldest construction activities occurred in the time of the Old Kingdom (2650–2134), during the reign of Pepi I (2321–2287) and Khufu (2589–2566).
All these additions, however, pale in comparison to the breathtaking magnificence of the temple itself. It is difficult to describe, because it was specifically designed to convey, through profound experience, incredibly important information. The eighteenth-century writer Amelia Edwards, with elevated prose, attempts to match its superlative attributes:
The immense girth of the columns, the huge screens which connect them, the ponderous cornice jutting overhead, confuse the imagination, and in the absence of given measurements appear, perhaps, even more enormous than they are. Looking up to the architrave, we see a kind of Egyptian Panathenaic procession of carven priests and warriors, some with standards and some with musical instruments. The winged globe, depicted upon a gigantic scale in the curve of the cornice, seems to hover above the central doorway. Hieroglyphs, emblems, strange forms of kings and gods, cover every foot of wall space, frieze and pillar. Nor does this wealth of surface-sculpture tend in any way to diminish the general effect of size. It would seem, on the contrary, as if complex decoration were in this instance the natural complement to simplicity of form. Every group, every inscription, appears to be necessary and in its place; an essential part of the building it helps to adorn.1
In 1898, Sir William Flinders Petrie excavated a section of the cemetery behind the temple enclosure for the Egypt Exploration Fund and discovered burials dating from the fourth dynasty onward, including burial tombs, called mastabas, from the sixth to the eleventh dynasties. Petrie first traveled to Egypt in 1880 and returned in 1883. In the early 1890s, Petrie became interested in predynastic times and how Egypt formed its civilization, and he returned a third time in 1893. He believed that people of Punt were the progenitors of Egyptian civilization and began excavations in Coptos. Although he did not find any evidence to support his theory, he did find a large cemetery where the deceased were not mummified and were buried in the fetal position. Petrie also discovered cemeteries like this, first in Abydos and then in Denderah, the ancient capital of the sixth Nome.
On the ceiling in the Great Hypostyle Hall, ancient blue paint, with its muted brilliance, competes for attention beneath the black, sooty residue of ancient fires. The ceiling is divided into seven sections, and finely carved reliefs occupy the architraves depicting the astrological signs of the zodiac encircled by the slender form of Nut, the goddess of the heavens. In the western architrave, along with Nut, is the god Geb, representing the earth, and the six northern signs of the Egyptian zodiac. Beneath Nut’s gentle protective canopy are Aries, the Ram (Amun); Taurus, the Bull (Apis); Gemini, the Twins (two sprouting plants); Cancer, the Crab (Anubis); Leo, the Lion (Osiris); and Virgo, the Virgin (Isis). The seventh and most eastern architrave shows Nut and the remaining six signs of the zodiac: Libra, the Scales; Scorpio, the Scorpion (Sit-Typhon); Sagittarius, the Archer; Capricorn, the Goat (Mendes); Aquarius, the Water Carrier; and Pisces, the Fishes (Nephthys).
The second and sixth architraves exhibit the twelve hours of the night, and at each end a winged figure represents the wind. The third shows the sun during the twelve hours of the day as well as the moon, represented by the sacred eye. The fourth and central architrave is elaborated with winged disks and vultures (see figure 7.3). The fifth presents the twelve hours of the day, depicted as boats bearing sun disks, and the figures of the gods to whom each hour was sacred.2
Each interior wall is covered with similar reliefs that speak of tremendous skill and talent. Even obscure parts of the temple, such as the stairwells, are covered with marvelous decorations swelled with three-dimensional pride that leave us admiring their design and execution. The entire composition is highly ornate without appearing ostentatious. For an art lover, it could easily distract attention from the heart of its architecture—the engineering marvel that is the colonnade in the Great Hypostyle Hall. Twenty-four massive columns soar to the symbolic heavens, and each supports a capital composed of four heads of the goddess Hathor. A detailed examination of several of these capitals reveals knowledge similar to what we have examined at Luxor. Yet there is more—an accomplishment of engineering that makes even the superlative outpourings of admiration by Amelia Edwards seem inadequate.
February 2006 photographs of the temple walls and columns, after detailed analysis, prompted my return in April of that of same year with better camera equipment: better lenses, a right-angle viewer, and a quality tripod. I had become fascinated by the symmetrical precision of the statues at Memphis, Luxor, and Karnak—but what we see at Denderah are not necessarily statues. Though they could be considered so, they actually indicate the fusion of art and technology into a wondrous expression of engineering and confounding mystery.
Figure 7.3 . The winged disks and vultures
Visitors to the Temple of Denderah today are greeted with a highly eroded and damaged wo
rk of art that was originally crafted and assembled with all the precision and craftsmanship we might expect from a modern manufacturer who is blessed with advanced tools for cutting, measuring, and assembly. Our senses are overcome with superlative art and architecture, but the engineering that allows Denderah to exist has key characteristics that are seldom discussed and that have not risen to the level of notice enjoyed by the pyramids in the north.
Though superlative reliefs on the walls and ceiling receive most of the attention, throughout the temple there are outstanding examples of the builders’ engineering prowess. The walls, ceiling, and columns are put together with such exactness that we can only sit back in awe of such an incredible accomplishment. Though not immediately apparent to the tourist who is rushed through the temple on a tight schedule, the meticulous care with which the elements of the temple are crafted is truly astounding. The principal elements of classical architecture that we see in the Temple of Denderah have been copied all over the world. They can be found in every major public building in nearly every country on the planet.
Lost Technologies of Ancient Egypt: Advanced Engineering in the Temples of the Pharaohs Page 16
