THE MACHINE IN THE CEREMONIAL CENTRE 

Chac Mool Conference, An Odyssey of Space, Calgary, November 14-18, 2001 

Sacred Places and Viewscapes Session

 

Stan Loten

sloten@sympatico.ca

 

 note (March, 2003): Images with plain blue backgrounds are the ones shown as slides at Calgary. Images with graded backgrounds have been further developed since then.

The North Acropolis at the Maya site of Tikal, Guatemala, is the kind of setting often characterised as a sacred place.  It is a major element in the monumental centre of Tikal, a city possibly known as Yax Mutal in ancient times (Martin and Grube 2000: 30).  I refer to it as a “machine” because, in our culture at least, machines are made for concrete and material purposes.  They are expected to produce.  They are not made as works of art to symbolize or to express things like wealth and power, although they probably work that way too.   But that is not why they are constructed.

My proposition is that monumental architectural installations such as the North Acropolis, used for ritual performances involving sacrificial ceremonies, were built with the kind of practical expectations fulfilled by machines.  The North Acropolis might have been expected to produce, or at least to assist in the production of, things such as timely rain, good crops, good health and relief from illness, healthy babies, long life, success in trade and battle, and generally whatever benefits the forces of nature might grant as long as they could be kept happy.  Presumably, the rituals, caches, offerings, and burials, in and on the acropolis were meant to gain these ends, via ceremonial activities and the architectural character of the place.

If this is a valid assumption, architectural form might be expected to have been affected by these intentions.   To investigate this possibility, I have taken the excavation data produced by the University of Pennsylvania Tikal Project (Coe 1990), which exists in the form of  plans, sections, elevations and diagrams, and constructed a series of three dimensional computer models so that the visual effect of the architecture can be appreciated (note 1).  The models were made using a programme called FormZ.  They are first set up as wire frames (figure 1), and then rendered (figure 2).  The character of the rendering is intended to show how the structures looked when they were freshly built and their plaster finish was shiny and reflective.  Surviving plasters, where protected, were distinctly smooth as though rubbed and burnished and I imagine that when newly finished the surfaces were somewhat glossy.

Figure 1

Figure 2

Although the acropolis evolved and functioned from at least 600 BC into the ninth century AD the architectural development presented here covers only the period from the late 2nd century BC to the early 5th century AD.  During this time, from Late Preclassic through the first part of the Early Classic, the architectural development, as I hope will be evident from the series of models, is a very consistent one.  That is, initial forms were retained through major changes.  At no time was the entire fabric of an earlier acropolis completely concealed beneath later additions.  Certainly, as will be evident, very marked changes were regularly introduced by new construction but in a context of renewing the previous fabric, which more or less inadvertently got larger and larger.  Then, at the end of the series described here, in the 5th century AD, the pattern of development changed abruptly.   The “arrival of strangers” (Stuart 1999) may have precipitated this change.  Indeed, the pattern of architectural development described here may actually provide support for the epigraphic evidence.

Figure 2 shows the earliest recovered acropolis, dating to the late 2nd century BC.  It rested partly on bedrock and partly on debris of earlier totally razed structures. It’s somewhat residential appearance seems inconsistent with the size and complexity of the lower substructure platforms.  The thatch roof shown is conjectural. Monumentality was modest but maybe intentional and may indicate a ceremonial function, although monumentality as such certainly would not rule out residence as primary function.  On the other hand, residential form could be appropriate for ceremonial functioning.  It has been suggested that ceremonial structures were places where the gods came to receive their offerings (Bassie-Sweet 1996: 18).  For this purpose, a house form might serve well.  Features that appear non-residential include expansiveness of the substructure platforms, their complex mix of very low and somewhat higher units, doubled lower stairs, tripled mid-level stairs, and the twin frontal units that might be small platforms or altars. 

continue to Part 2