The Cambridge History of India, Vol. IV: The Mughul Period v4.c23.s4.158

v4.c23.s4.158

In addition, however, to its artistic merit, the scientific thought and technical skill expended in the construction of this monument is remarkable. Particularly is this noticeable in the subtle overhang of the great dome, which shows that the builders were conversant with the principles of tension, stress and strain, so that this problem presented no difficulties. The contrast in the character of the large dome with the cupolas over the kiosks denotes that two different traditions here meet in the same building. The main dome by its shape is plainly of Timurid extraction, its remote ancestor being the Dome of the Rock at Jerusalem; on the other hand the cupolas with their wide eaves are of indigenous origin, being derived from the overlapping rings of masonry which formed the vaulted ceiling of the Hindu temple. For the centering of the dome timber scaffolding supplemented by brick was employed, as noted by Tavernier.¹ Although details are lacking, light is thrown on this aspect of the work from an interesting source, for some of the miniature paintings of the time depict in a lively manner the various methods then in use, including that of centering² (Figs. 24, 25). The design of the minarets was suggested by those over the entrance to Akbar's tomb at Sikandra, although there is a notable difference in their surface treatment. In the minarets of the Tāj the face joints are countersunk, forming a kind of rustication not seen in any other part of the structure, and so by a subtle contrast in texture aiding in their detachment from the main building. In this manner by a combination of the finest art and the most expert construction the Mughul craftsmen have produced in the Tāj Mahall a monument which has most nearly reached the utmost height of perfection. Added to this the building owes not a little of its sensuous charm to the extraneous effects of the atmosphere, and the variations in the light on its marble surfaces. The marble when first won from the uninspiring mounds of Makrāna is itself of a superb texture—white with a delicate grey grain. In the course of centuries, mellowed by the sun, and sand-blasted by the red dust of the surrounding country driven into it by the monsoon rains, it has acquired a patina, almost imperceptible but sufficient to affect its colour values. The result is that the building assumes at different times a variety of tints, from a cold grey at dawn, shimmering white at noon, and suffused with a tender blush rose in the afterglow, with a wide range of half-tones in between.