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Observations from the Road (Or the “While I Was Out of the Country” Edition)

Published by DJB

Dolci Cafe – a taste of Italy in Takoma Park

It turns out that the world continued while I was on sabbatical for six weeks. We returned on Monday afternoon and caught up with chores on Tuesday, while simultaneously trying to keep our Italian buzz alive. Pacci’s Pizzeria here in Silver Spring and Takoma Park’s Dolci Gelati Cafe certainly helped in that regard!

In checking the news here in the states, I also discovered a few things that caught my eye.

Baseball season has begun – When I left the country, spring training was underway. As we returned, our Washington Nationals were jumping off to a 12-4 start and are currently in first place in the National League East. I know, I know: it is early. I also know they have feasted on the Atlanta Braves and Philadelphia Phillies. But a win in April is as good as a win in September, and if they expect to do anything this year, the Nats will need to feast on the teams in their division who aren’t very good. I have tickets for Sunday afternoon’s game, and can’t wait.

On the plane ride home from Rome, I was also able to catch my own personal spring training viewing of the movie Bull Durham. Best Baseball Movie. Ever. I’ve watched it dozens of times, and the story of Crash, Nuke, and Annie never gets old. Yes, I did laugh out loud at the quotes, including one of my favorite lines that Annie uses in describing the talented but clueless Nuke (which has the added advantage of being true): “The world is made for people who aren’t cursed with self awareness.”

And this little piece is among my favorite scenes:

[Larry – the coach – jogs out to the mound to break up a players’ conference] Excuse me, but what the hell’s going on out here?

Crash Davis: Well, Nuke’s scared because his eyelids are jammed and his old man’s here. We need a live… is it a live rooster? [Jose nods]

Crash: We need a live rooster to take the curse off Jose’s glove and nobody seems to know what to get Millie or Jimmy for their wedding present. [to the players]

Crash: Is that about right? [the players nod]

Crash: We’re dealing with a lot of shit.

Larry: Okay, well, uh… candlesticks always make a nice gift, and uh, maybe you could find out where she’s registered and maybe a place-setting or maybe a silverware pattern. Okay, let’s get two! Go get ’em.

Priceless! Play ball!

My home state is in the running for the “What are These Guys Thinking?” award – Tennessee, which has NINE state songs, had a group of legislators pushing to name the Bible as the State book. Jeez. What, were they worried that Mississippi was going to run away with this year’s award? Before the Governor vetoed this bill, Gail Collins wrote a classic column:

Amid all the truly awful things state legislatures do, one of the rare bright spots has been the naming of official symbols. Who was ever made unhappy by the designation of a state rock?

Tennessee, alas, is screwing up the record. The governor is currently trying to decide whether to sign a piece of legislation that would put the Bible on the list of State Things, alongside the salamander (amphibian), milk (beverage), honeybee (agricultural insect), raccoon (wild animal), several variations on the theme of state tree and flower, and nine — nine! — official state songs. The last of which, adopted in 2011, was “Tennessee.”

The next question you’re probably asking is why it took nine tries for Tennessee to get a song named “Tennessee,” and the answer is that it actually has two. You have to admit that’s pretty inclusive. On the other hand, picking the Christian holy book as a state symbol seems simultaneously divisive and unnecessary. Not to mention sort of disrespectful to the Bible, which doesn’t usually get included on the same list as the salamander and the smallmouth bass.

My father’s work on earth is not yet done. He needs to fire off another of his classic letters to the editor to the local newspaper reminding his fellow citizens that Baptists (and they are all some type of Baptist in Tennessee) practically invented the separation of church and state (before they decided in the 1980s that they kind of liked bossing around other people who perhaps had different religious beliefs from them).

The endless Presidential campaign continues – No, the election didn’t magically end while we were gone. They are talking about the same things they were when we left. I could write a lot about the campaign, but I’ll just quote from one of my favorite websites: Margaret and Helen – Best Friends for 60 years and counting.

I saw an interview with a gay, black Republican congressman from Georgia who is supporting Rubio. I think that makes him a unicorn. But anyway… The reporter pointed out that Rubio doesn’t recognize the congressman’s relationship with his same-sex partner. The congressman responded by saying that was ok because neither did his mother. Now if that ain’t the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Well it was, at least until I watched that debate.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Roots music is alive and well, if a bit quirky – I really missed playing guitar when I was in Rome, but I was glad to at least see a couple of articles about roots music while I was there. Upon my return, the New York Times had a nice appreciation for singer/songrwriter John Prine that I recommend. Prine – who turns 70 this year – has an amazing facility for finding just the right words, on topics serious and not-so-serious. Such as “Jesus: The Missing Years.”

It was raining, it was cold, West Bethlehem was no place for a 12-year-old…”

The world is a strange place, and we depend on writers like Prine to help us through.

More to come…

DJB

Life is already too short to waste on speed

Published by DJB

A sabbatical should be a time to reflect on the “why” and “how” of life. In trying to extend that reflection into my re-entry into the world of everyday work, I have continued to read outside my usual scope of interest.

In a book I was reading on the train this morning, Edward Abbey — who has been called the enfant terrible of American environmentalism — was quoted as having had some good things to say about walking.

“Walking takes longer, for example, than any other form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed….Walking makes the world much bigger and therefore more interesting. You have time to observe the details.“

I love the line “Life is already too short to waste on speed.”

On this morning’s walk to work, I passed the flower beds in the University Yard at GW. It was a reminder to take the time to observe the details.

More to come…

DJB

IMAGE: Flower beds at George Washington University’s campus on H Street, NW by DJB

Observations from the road: “Final Rome edition”…for this visit

Published by DJB

As we prepare to leave Rome and head home, I have pulled together a few final observations about things we have seen while in this most fascinating of countries. I’ll begin with the serious, and then move on to – shall we say – less serious thoughts that have popped into my head before returning to a final note of thanksgiving. As always, these Observations From… posts are quick and quirky. You’ve been warned!

Keats Grave — Grave of Poet John Keats in the Non-Catholic Cemetery in Rome

The Non-Catholic Cemetery is a treasure – Several people told us to make sure we visited the “Non-Catholic Cemetery in Rome” (also known as the Protestant Cemetery), and we are so glad we did. On the day we visited Ostia Antica, we walked across the street from the train station upon our return and spent a good hour roaming through this beautiful space.

Here is a bit of the background, from the cemetery’s website:

The Non-Catholic Cemetery for Foreigners in Testaccio, Rome (to give it its full name) is also widely known as the Protestant Cemetery although it contains the graves of many Orthodox Christians, Jews, Muslims and other non-Christians. It is one of the oldest burial grounds in continuous use in Europe, having started to be used around 1716 (and thus celebrating its 300th anniversary in 2016)….

The Cemetery population is both exceptionally diverse and exceptionally rich in writers, painters, sculptors, historians, archaeologists, diplomats, scientists, architects and poets, many of international eminence….

Pyramid and City Wall as seen from the Non-Catholic Cemetery — Pyramid and Aurelian Wall as seen from the Non-Catholic Cemetery

This is a beautiful urban space, located next to the Pyramid of Cestius (dated between 18 and 12 B.C.) and adjacent to a section of Rome’s ancient Aurelian wall. Cypress trees hover over the site, while the graves themselves are often small garden spaces. The famous are buried here – John Keats and Percy Shelley, most notably – and it is something of a pilgrimage site for artists and writers.

The entire cemetery was lovely, but Candice and I were both mesmerized by the arrestingly beautiful Angel of Grief sculpture by W. W. Story for the tomb of his wife.

Side view of W.W. Story's Angel of Grief — Side view of W.W. Story’s Angel of Grief

Story was the best-known American sculptor in Rome for a 40-year period, and this evocative piece was his last. He designed it for the tomb of his wife, who died early in 1895, and he followed her in death later that year. The lightness of this work, the unspeakable grief that is evident on every part of the angel’s body, and the sadness found in features such as the flowers which have dropped from her hand make this an incredible personal statement as well as a moving work of art.

This is a treasure not to be missed in a city full of treasures.

Beauty – When my colleague Tom Mayes was at the American Academy in Rome last year, he worked on a series of essays about why old places matter. They are all worth a read, but I’ve been struck by one in particular while on my sabbatical – Tom’s essay on beauty. He begins with a simple declarative statement.

“Old places are beautiful.”

But as Tom quickly notes, beauty is not a simple topic. Read the entire essay for his thoughtful take on the subject, but this one sentence captures key elements for me:

As I read and talk to people about beauty, a few words and phrases capture the experiences I’ve had—and that I believe other people also have—at beautiful old places: delight, exhilarating surprise, speechlessness, the language of timeless reality, echo of an ideal, sudden unexpected harmony of the body, mind and world.

Throughout our six weeks, I experienced many of these same feelings and emotions and was reminded again and again of the beauty of this old and historic city.

Bernini in San Francesco — Blessed Ludovia Albertoni by Bernini at San Francesco a Ripa

We have eaten well in Rome – Very well. Perhaps too well. (I’ll know about that last point when I step on the scale at home.)

Spaghetti Verrigni with carbonara sauce and black truffle from Antico Arco

In a city full of good restaurants, we found a few, which I’ll pass along to you in case you are coming to the city.

We found the best pizza at Antico Forno Roscioli, “one of Rome’s best bakeries and among the city’s most historic institutions” according to food blogger Katie Parla. Candice got the recommendation to eat pizza there from Chris, the chef at the American Academy, and we weren’t disappointed.

I wrote earlier about our Easter Day feast at Antico Arco. What I haven’t mentioned is that we’ve returned four times since then, and each meal has been wonderful. They also have a strong wine list. Highly recommended.

Candice and I celebrated our 34th wedding anniversary at Dittirambo, and it was a great place to experience Rome’s passion for food. We also recommend Al Moro, if you want the old-style traditional Italian cooking complete with the atmosphere and waiters to make the experience complete!

We went out in style our last weekend here, taking two more of Katie Parla’s recommendations (get her app “Katie Parla’s Rome” and put it on your iPhone if you are coming to the city). Saturday night we went to Roscioli and we recommend the fried anchovies, among other items on the menu. Then our last dinner (for this trip) will be tonight at Cesare al Casaletto, described as the “best trattoria in Rome!”

Bonus recommendation: If you are in Murano and find yourself hungry, go to Trattoria Busa alla Torre. Outstanding!

Sant' Estachio — A busy day at Sant’ Estachio il Caffe in Rome

And finally, if it isn’t the best caffè shop in Rome, Sant’ Eustacio il Caffè is certainly the most historic and best known. All four of us made it there, at different times, to sample this Rome tradition.

The greatest American import – Every time I walk past a McDonalds or Burger King in Rome, I cringe, and I’ve just heard that Italy now has its first Starbucks – which is really like bringing coals to New Castle. These folks invented all the stuff Starbucks tries to pass off as coffee.

However, there is one American import that surprised me – and it wasn’t always an embarrassment. There is American music everywhere in Italy. The Italian guy playing electric guitar on the bridge over the Tiber is as likely to be playing Chuck Berry riffs as anything else. We were eating in a small neighborhood restaurant in Venice to the sounds of Ray Charles and obscure Motown artists. 95% of the cab drivers listened to American rock and roll. One told us it was how he learned to speak English!

I would have liked to have heard more local music, but “‘C’est la vie’, say the old folks, it goes to show you never can tell.”

Grazie – The wonderfulness of this portion of my sabbatical would not have been possible without the help and support of some very nice people. First and foremost, the National Trust for Historic Preservation (which has a sabbatical policy) and my boss, Stephanie Meeks. Stephanie came to me about a year ago and suggested I think about taking a sabbatical. That set the wheels moving toward an Affiliated Fellowship at The American Academy in Rome. The academy’s wonderful staff could not have been more welcoming and helpful. In addition, this time off would not have been possible without the support of my team at the National Trust. They all said, “We’ll take care of things and will ask WWDJBD? if anything actually comes up.” I have had the freedom to focus on other things away from the day-to-day of work thanks to Barb, Tom, Susan, Katherine, Jim, Tricia and Kelly. Several friends and colleagues who have been to the academy in the past – especially Tom, Rod, Eduardo, and Tabitha – gave invaluable advice for getting around the city and country. Others who we know also came through with great suggestions, and we did as many as we could in six short weeks. Finally, Candice and I so appreciate Andrew’s willingness to hold down the fort at home while we were away. It was very comforting knowing that he was taking care of all the mundane chores.

We’ve had a wonderful six weeks. Thanks for reading. Ciao!

More to come…

DJB

Image: My home away from home – the Chiaraviglio Apartments at the American Academy in Rome photo by CCB.

Three churches (part two)

Published by DJB

Over the past two weeks, we have visited three distinctive churches that each took our breath away in different ways. The first is rarely seen. The second is seen by almost every tourist in Rome. And the last is one of those masterworks of architecture that really must be seen to be fully appreciated

So to follow-up on our earlier post of looking at churches in sets of threes, here comes Three Churches (Part Two). Let’s begin with San Lorenzo in Miranda, the church that is rarely seen.

Each Friday we were at the American Academy, I took part in the “Fellows Walk.” The last of those – for us – took place a week ago Friday and it was titled “The Presence of Absence: The Medieval Roman Forum.” I’ll turn to the AAR’s description of the walk to fill you in on the focus:

Rome brims with a seemingly endless number of sites that loom large in the popular imagination. But how does the imagined city compare to our actual, sensory experience of Rome? This final series of Walks will lead us through a selection of sites — forum, church, neighborhood, villa and garden — designed to provoke a set of distinct, physical experiences. Charting places of sensory input across time, these Walks will encourage us to become aware of the presence of absence, visual perspective, mathematical order, scale, materials, topography, labor, fragrance, temperature, color and much more beyond.

Today’s visit will focus on how we experience Medieval Rome through both the traces — and voids — of this stratum of the city’s history. We’ll concentrate on a series of sites in the Roman Forum, which witnessed some of the early transformation of Rome’s ancient, pagan monuments into places of Christian worship. We’ll begin our discussion on Via dei Fori Imperiali, a Fascist-era road that cut through the Forum and obliterated much of Medieval Rome in the process. From here, we’ll visit three churches that emerged between the 6th and 9th centuries: Ss. Cosimo e Damiano, S. Lorenzo in Mirandola, and S. Francesca Romana. These locations represent the varying degrees to which we can experience the history of Medieval Rome in sites that were once the center of Roman society and culture yet today are rarely open to the public and thus remain a mystery to contemporary residents and visitors alike.

Many people know San Lorenzo as “the church in the temple” in the middle of the Roman Forum. Others know it as “the church where the entrance door hangs in mid-air on the second floor.” Those two things are connected.

This is a 17th century Baroque church, but it was originally the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina, built around 141 CE. Over time through the Middle Ages, as the Forum filled in with silt and occupation debris, the floor of the church – and thus the entrance door from the Forum side – was raised to its present location. When archaeological excavations began in the 19th century, there was some pressure to demolish the church to leave only the Roman temple remains. That did not happen, however, and the current church provides one of the most interesting – and seldom seen – views of the Forum.

Forum View from San Lorenzo — Forum view from San Lorenzo

Entrance to San Lorenzo — The “entrance door” to the Forum from San Lorenzo

The conversation on the walk focused on how the Medieval Forum was lost — intentionally — to the archaeology of the 19th century (with its focus on Imperial Rome) as well as the 20th century fascists changes to the city (which also had a focus on returning Rome to its Imperial glory). Absence is often a very important part of the historical record, as we see here.

Yesterday, Candice and I visited a church that — unlike San Lorenzo — is on every tourist’s “Top 10” list of places to see. That would be the Basilica of Santa Maria del Popolo.

Raphael Mosaics in Chigi Chapel at Santa Maria — Raphael mosaics in the Chigi Chapel of Santa Maria del Popolo

Santa Maria del Popolo is an art museum and a church. Raphael? Check. Caravaggio? Check. Bernini? Check. And that’s only the beginning.

Caravaggio’s “Conversion on the Road to Damascus”

Bernini's Daniel and the Lion — Bernini’s “Daniel and the Lion”

Santa Maria del Popolo — located on the beautiful Piazza del Popolo — is a well-loved church by people of all faiths and no faith. As found in the church’s brochure,

I have always considered Santa Maria del Popolo (Our Lady of the People) as an example, a perfect example of the specific nature of Italian cultural patrimony….

Well said.

San Carlo exterior — Exterior of San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane

Finally, I want to return to a church mentioned in an earlier post – San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane (Saint Charles at the Four Fountains). This design – a masterpiece of architect Francesco Borramini – is both “extraordinary and complex.” Working with a very difficult site and needing to include a number of elements to complete the architectural program, Borramini came up with a design that works and thrills at the same time.

It is the dome, with its exquisite geometric pattern, that caps this wonderful space and brings it all together.

There is more I could show, but my pictures do not do this building justice. So I am going to end this visit to Italian churches with a segment on San Carlo from Daniel Solomon’s Bedside Essays for Lovers (of Cities) – a favorite text.

Borromini was eclipsed for much of his career by the flashier and more charismatic Gian Lorenzo Bernini, and his oeuvre are mostly second-tier commissions – smallish buildings on undistinguished city sites. His greatness is built on surmounting the contradictory demands of these commissions – simultaneous city fabric and monument. Second-tier commissions produced some of the most complex and subtle works of the Western canon…

Never have the ordinary and the extraordinary been reconciled with more sublime elegance than at San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane. Its interior is nothing less than a three-dimensional cosmological map depicting in its intricate geometries and its filtration of light the relationship of heaven and earth. But the sanctuary of San Carlo sits on an unremarkable street corner on the consistent street frontage of via Quirinale, leading to the magnificence of Palazzo Quirinale and Piazza Quirinale a couple of blocks up the street. Mediating between the glories of the interior and the important but subservient role of the exterior is a subtly undulating wall, true to the demands of both inside and out. In this most complex of mediations, Borromini leaves the enduring lesson of how to be both a humble city builder and an architect of thundering power.

If you are in Rome, get thee to this church!

More to come…
DJB

Contemporary Art in Historic Rome (Continued)

Published by DJB

Fig Tree from the exhibit “Laudato si – To the Roots of Life”

I believe it was those sage philosophers Rodgers and Hammerstein* who said, “When the Lord closes a door, somewhere He opens a window.” That describes our Friday in Rome.

After seeing the stunning Santa Maria del Popolo in the morning (more on that later), we had planned to take in the Bernini statue The Ecstasy of St. Theresa at Santa Maria della Vittoria and then walk down the street to see Francesco Borromini’s fantastic San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane. Both were closed. Thankfully, I’ve seen San Carlo (and will try to get Candice there tomorrow). But we were disappointed, and the gelato we had after our picnic lunch only partially brought my spirits back.

However, as has been our practice, when we walk by a church or open historic building that we haven’t seen before, we’ll ask each other, “Do you want to go in?” More times than not, we’ll say “yes” and head in to find some new hidden gem.

We were walking back towards Trastevere when we passed Chiesa di Sant’ Ignazio (the Church of St. Ignatius). The two of us almost walked past it, but we decided to turn back and go inside to see why there was a pretty good crowd of visitors in the doorway.

We are so glad that we did!

As I wrote a little over a week ago, Rome is not only a place for incredible historic works of art, but the city continues to inspire contemporary artists. We stumbled in on a beautiful exhibit of copper, blowtorched and forged by fire, into a series of trees by the artist Settimo Tamanini.

Central Nave with Frescoes in the vaulted ceiling and tree from the “To the Roots of Life” exhibit

When one enters Sant’ Ignazio, the eye is immediately drawn to the Andrea Pezzo frescoes in the vaulted ceiling. But today, that view includes shimmering copper trees, “blowtorched and forged by fire” from the exhibit To the Roots of Life.

This exhibit ties in with Pope Francis’ encyclical Laudato sì on the need to safeguard creation. Eight of the artist’s creations – almond, apple, fig, pomegranate, olive, and chestnut trees along with a burning bush and grape vine – are placed throughout the church, along with short engravings that bring forth commentary and scripture. This moving work softens the architectural space with all its marble and brass. As the exhibition’s curator notes, “…the sculptures of the trees…complete the visual pathway from the frescoes of the vault to the garden, embracing everything and providing an illusory perspective of matter unified and transfigured.”

“To the Roots of Life” in the Sacristy of Sant’ Ignazio

This exhibition is part of the call of an earlier pope to bring contemporary art to the life of today’s church. But these works – as is true with any good art – can be seen from a myriad of perspectives, with or without religious overtones. You can take this work on several levels.

I’ll end with an excerpt from the words of Settimo Tamanini in the exhibit catalog:

…Art, as a way towards Beauty, represents a great challenge and responsibility for contemporary artists: that of offering, through its universal language, a visible image of the fertile and silent activity of invisible Wisdom.

I have drawn inspiration from the tree, already present in the first pages of the Bible and in deep harmony with the Universe.

This is how the “Trees of Great Mothers” fruit trees from Palestine, have been born, powerful sculptures in pure copper wrought through blown flames and fire.

The Garden of Eden which is in us all.

So that, entrusting ourselves to our true Master, we can breathe joy and hope to be given to others.

More to come…

DJB

*(Note for careful readers: I actually realize that this quote is from The Sound of Music book by Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, but if I had said “Lindsay and Crouse, no one would know what I meant.)

A trip Into antiquity

Published by DJB

Earlier this week Candice and I found time to visit two sites that have taken us at least as far back as the 4th century BCE and up through the 7th century CE. Both were fascinating while serving as good platforms for thinking about historic preservation past and future.

On Tuesday, we walked through our neighborhood to get to the Basilica of San Pancrazio, where we had attended Palm Sunday services three weeks ago. We heard a presentation the night before from one of the fellows at the academy on labor practices in the catacombs, and it stirred us to visit the catacombs under the basilica.

Catacombs of San Pancrazio — View of the tombs in the catacombs below the Basilica of San Pancrazio

San Pancrazio’s catacombs are one of the few in Rome that have been consistently visited through the ages. The fact that they were not lost over the centuries has been attributed to the fact that pilgrims from the cult of St. Pancras consistently visited the site throughout the Middle Ages.

(Pancras) came to Rome together with his uncle Dionysus after his parents’ death and was decapitated in 304 after refusing to sacrifice to the gods. His body was abandoned on the Via Aurelia and was picked up by a Christian matrona, Ottavilla, who buried him in the closest graveyard, that she probably owned. (Wikipedia)

Jenny – whose talk inspired us to visit this set of catacombs – mentioned that this particular site was small but had many of the features found in larger tombs. For a simple definition, catacombs are “human-made subterranean passageways for religious practice. Any chamber used as a burial place is a catacomb, although the word is most commonly associated with the Roman Empire.” Built by “fossors,” the catacombs predate the Christian era. The early Roman custom was cremation, with the ashes placed in a columbarium (of which there are early examples), but Christians tended to favor inhumation, due to the belief in the bodily resurrection at the Second Coming of Christ.

Catacomb detail — Detail from a chamber in the catacombs of San Pancrazio

We met up with the volunteer guide inside the basilica. He spoke very little English and we spoke no Italian. However, he was so pleased to be showing the catacombs to visitors and we were so excited to have the opportunity, that we worked through the language barriers and had a very informative tour. Lesson #1 for historic sites: have a knowledgeable and enthusiastic guide and you can overcome communication barriers. The catacombs are entered by a door in the basilica floor, located between the nave and a side aisle. Very steep stairs took us down underneath the basilica to the remarkable remains of this early Roman burial site.

Fosso marker — A marker found in the catacombs of San Pancrazio – which our guide identified as the sign of the fossor who dug the graves

We were able to call up information from the site’s Wikipedia page, and that material – along with Jenny’s talk the night before – helped us fill in the tour and ask intelligent questions of our guide. In this part of the catacombs, we visited:

the cubicle of Botrys, from the name of the decedent buried in it: the peculiarity of this grave is that, on his headstone, Botrys declares himself as a christianós, an unusual expression in the Christian graveyards;
the cubicle of Saint Felix, dating back to the end of the 3rd and the beginning of the 4th century, decorated with a linear red style and elements referring to the sea (ships and fishes);
the cubicle of Saint Sophia, housing a white-plastered arcosolium with four graves, that are believed to be the martyr Sophia and her three daughters’. (Wikipedia)

Following our tour, the guide asked if we wanted to see the crypt where the patron saint was buried (his remains having been moved there in the 7th century for easier access for the pilgrims). We quickly agreed, and he led us into a tunnel in the apse that led to the crypt, which is under the altar, followed by a visit to the sacristy which included a wall of ancient inscriptions and markers.

Candice and I found this entire experience to be delightful. Befitting the setting, we were reverential yet inquisitive. Our guide could not have been more welcoming, wanting to ensure that we understood what we were seeing. He also encouraged photographs, so that we could capture this place for future memories. While not one of the major catacomb tours in Rome, it certainly captured and held our interest for the 90 minutes we spent at the basilica.

Excavations at Ostia Antica — View of the excavations at Ostia Antica

Amore e Psiche from the Ostia Antica archaeological museum

Yesterday, we took the Roma-Lido train (think Washington Metro with better service and more graffiti) for the 20-minute ride to the archaeological excavations of the ancient town of Ostia Antica. This was the harbor city for ancient Rome, located originally at the mouth of the River Tiber. (Due to silting, it is now three miles from the sea.)

We spent over three hours on-site and could have spent more if we’d had the time. As you’ll see in the photographs, this is an extensive excavation that uncovered a complex and highly-developed city dating back to at least the 4th century BCE.

Rather than write a great deal about its history, I’ll direct you to the link above, which also takes you to other sites, for more detailed information. Ostia is known for its mosaics, amphitheater, baths, and wide range of building types. The tour begins – appropriately given our visit the day before – in the necropolis just outside the city walls.

Mosaic work in the Baths of Neptune — Work on the mosaic floor of the gymnasium in the Baths of Neptune

Panoramic View of the Theatre at Ostia Antica

Niche for household gods — Niche for holding a statue of the household god in a series of merchants’ stores and houses

View of excavations in the center of Ostia Antica

Capitolium and Sacellum of the Lares Augusti

Panoramic view of the Forum from the Capitolium

Mosaic of Fishmongers — Mosaic detail in the Tabernae of the Fishmongers

I have about fifty more photographs I could post, but I hope you have the sense that this is a wonderful step into antiquity. I was also impressed with how the interpretation of the site addresses issues of the changing nature of archaeological and preservation practice. On several signs, the destructive actions of earlier generations are addressed respectfully yet directly, understanding that professional standards and practices change over time as better tools and deeper interpretation come into play. In particular, the treatment of mosaic panels in the gymnasium – which had always been exposed to the elements – are given detailed explanation. The common practices of the 1970s contributed to the deterioration, and so the preservationists and archaeologists who began a new conservation project in 2004 had to factor in this aspect of the site’s history. It was refreshing to see this openness in interpretation.

Ongoing preservation work at Ostia Antica

Candice and I also commented on the fact that except for two or three school groups, we had much of the site to ourselves. In talking with fellows and experts at the academy, I have heard how preservation and conservation funds are drying up in Italy. I do not know the particulars here, and while we saw evidence of ongoing work at Ostia Antica, it seemed as if the site was working to get by with less support – which includes marketing (a key aspect of historic site preservation).

I’m thankful that a colleague sent me a link to “Top Ten Day Trips from Rome” and Ostia Antica topped the list. We would agree. This is a site that is evocative, mysterious, and educational – calling us to reflect both backwards and forwards at the same time.

We need more places like this.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Excavated street and buildings at Ostia Antica

Venice!

Published by DJB

Just a typical view in Venice

I absolutely loved Venice.

That’s not how I expected to feel following our first trip to the city. For quite some time I’ve been hearing from people connected to all parts of my life (personal, professional, seasoned travelers, first-time visitors), and they inevitably mention the number of tourists, the limited number of “things to see” in the city, the cruise-ship impacts, the obvious effects of climate change, and the food. (If I had a Euro for every time someone said, “You can’t get a bad meal in Rome and you can’t get a good meal in Venice,” I would have enough for at least one good meal in either city!)

Our experience was very different.

For one of the places on earth that can truly be described as unique, I went to Venice with relatively low expectations. We arrived a week-ago Friday after a three-hour and forty-five-minute trip on the high-speed train. What a luxury! Candice and I stepped out of the terminal and were only a five minute walk from our hotel. Thanks to some savvy internet work by Candice, we found a small boutique hotel that was “near” the heart of the city, but a short way off the beaten path. We actually smiled when we passed a barber shop a half block away. Real neighborhoods have barber shops!

Along the Grand Canal

Andrew wasn’t arriving via plane until later Friday evening, so Candice and I decided to wander the streets (and canals) and leave the bucket list items such as San Marco until Saturday. We spent a little bit of time walking the tourists-themed streets and looking at the Grand Canal, but we quickly found our way into the neighborhoods that don’t have all the shops and street vendors.

Canals, bridges, pedestrian-only streets, and boats – your transportation system in Venice

In our walking, we surveyed several neighborhood restaurants, and finally ended up in one for dinner where the English was limited but the tapas and wine were plentiful. Good meal in Venice #1.

We started early the next morning – now with Andrew in tow (or truth be told, in the lead) – and we headed down to the Piazza San Marco, to see this world-famous piazza and to visit the Basilica di San Marco and the Palazzo Ducale.

Panoramic View of Piazza San Marco

I can say this is a place that lives up to its hype. We spent the better part of our day in the Piazza, and even with thousands of tourists flooding the area, it never seemed crowded.

With its five domes, the basilica is one of the most amazing structures — sacred or secular — I’ve ever encountered. To hear it described as one of the greatest buildings in Europe hardly does it justice. The basilica blends eastern and western influences — as befits the major trading port between Europe and the Orient — and the splendor comes from the Republic’s overseas empire. (Once again, there is little or no interpretation of the empire’s impacts on those countries who contributed — unwillingly — to this magnificent building.)

Facade of the Basilica di San Marco

Detail of the main entrance of the Basilica di San Marco

View of the nave of the Basilica di San Marco as seen from the balcony leading to the loggia

The multiple domes of the Basilica di San Marco

Detail from the apse at the Basilica di San Marco

Detail from the apse at the Basilica di San Marco, showing a portion of one of the opposing set of choir lofts

As we toured the basilica, Candice and I received a musical history lesson on the Venetian School of Music from Andrew. Due to the acoustics of this incredible space as well as the split setup of choir lofts, composer Adrian Willaert began writing music for cor spezzati (or split choir) in the early 1500s. As Andrew notes, “While polyphony and canons (so both high and vernacular forms) had multiple parts for a long time, this structure of writing for two distinct and complete choirs was new.” Wikipedia picks up the description from here:

Aware of the sound delay caused by the distance between opposing choir lofts, composers began to take advantage of that as a useful special effect. Since it was difficult to get widely separated choirs to sing the same music simultaneously (especially before modern techniques of conducting were developed), composers such as Adrian Willaert, the maestro di cappella of St. Mark’s in the 1540s, solved the problem by writing antiphonal music antiphonal where opposing choirs would sing successive, often contrasting phrases of the music; the stereo effect proved to be popular, and soon other composers were imitating the idea, and not only in St. Mark’s but in other large cathedrals in Italy.

Andrew’s interests are wide-ranging, so the three of us also talked a great deal about the architecture of the basilica. There is a small museum on a balcony at the rear of the church (leading out to the loggia), and we were delighted to find detailed models showing how the building was built and how it was restored. Well worth the 5 euro (and that’s not counting the view of the plaza once you step outside).

Andrew gives a “two thumbs up” to the magnificent cutaway model of the basilica

DJB on the loggia of the basilica, overlooking the Piazza San Marco

After wandering away from the tourist area to find lunch (which really did fit the prevailing description of food in Venice), we came back for round two: the Palazzo Ducale. The Eyewitness Travel guide has a pretty good summary of what we were about to see.

The Palazzo (Doge’s Palace) was the official resident of each Venetian rule (doge) and was founded in the 9th century. The present palace owes its external appearance to the building work of the 14th and early 15th centuries. To create their airy Gothic masterpiece, the Venetians broke with tradition by perching the bulk of the palace (built in pink Veronese marble) on top of an apparent fretwork of loggias and arcades (built from white Istrian stone).

The Palazzo Ducale on the left and the Libreria Sansoviniana (national library of St. Mark) on the right

The courtyard of the Palazzo Ducale – with its views of the basilica in the background and the Giants’ Staircase as a main feature – provide the first glimpse of what is to come.

Courtyard of the Palazzo Ducale with the Giants’ Staircase

Courtyard view at the Palazzo Ducale

The Palazzo is a succession of richly decorated chambers and halls, each more glorious than the one you just left. It helps to understand that this building served as the seat of Venetian government, and so was where courts were held. The artwork and architectural detailing is extensive and you’ll just have to be satisfied with a few photos I’ve chosen from the dozens in my files.

Ceiling detail in the Palazzo Ducale

Chamber in the Palazzo Ducale

Ceiling in a stair hall of the Palazzo Ducale

Ceiling in a stairway in the Palazzo Ducale

As we left the Palazzo, we wandered off the beaten track and into neighborhoods in various parts of the city. This introduced us to more of the places and piazzos that represent the day-to-day Venice. We also came upon a neighborhood bar, where we had a wonderful dinner surrounded by tables filled with locals. (Good meal #2.)

Venice View (photo credit: Andrew Brown)

Sunday morning we were up again bright and early to catch a boat to the nearby islands of Burano and Murano.

With Candice in Burano

Burano – known for its colorful houses and lace – was first up and we were there as most shops were just opening, before the influx of tourists. We took in the time to wander the streets, explore the local church as parishioners were entering for mass, and relax over a caffè and pastry. It provided us with a great start to our final day in Venice.

Burano canal

Via Baldassare Galuppi in Burano as we headed back to catch the water taxi

Mid-morning we caught the water taxi to Murano, the larger island nearer to Venice that is known for its “Murano glass.” I wasn’t expecting much here, but the island is full of interesting views, well appointed shops (when you skip the ones designed for the crowds), and a Michelin-guide restaurant on the main piazza where we had good meal #3 of the trip!

A canal view in Murano

Basilica dei Santi Maria e Donato

Enjoying lunch with Andrew and Candice in Murano

With the satisfaction that we had experienced a wonderful taste of Venice, we boarded our train and headed back to Rome after this lovely introduction to an amazing — and amazingly fragile — place.

More to come…

DJB

The pleasures of Villa Farnesina

Published by DJB

If yesterday’s post – full of gruesome scenes of martyrdom from Santo Stefano Rotondo – turned your stomach, we found the antidote today in the pleasures of Villa Farnesina.

Front facade of Villa Farnesina — The facade of Villa Farnesina

Commissioned in 1508 by the wealthy Sienese banker Agostino Chigi and designed by Baldassarre Peruzzi, this suburban villa is at the foot of the hill from the American Academy in Trastevere. We joined our friend Jeff Cody there for a guided tour and concert of Renaissance music on a beautiful Sunday spring day in Rome.

Detail of Cupid and Psyche — Detail of the Frescoes in the Loggia of Cupid and Psyche

The Wikipedia entry gives a good description of the difference between this suburban villa and an urban palazzo (or palace).

Renaissance palaces typically faced onto a street and were decorated versions of defensive castles: rectangular blocks with rusticated ground floors and enclosing a courtyard. This villa, intended to be an airy summer pavilion, presented a side towards the street and was given a U shaped plan with a five bay loggia between the arms. In the original arrangement, the main entrance was through the north facing loggia which was open. Today, visitors enter on the south side and the loggia is glazed.

The interiors are a delightful display of classical myths and astrological scenes (showing the position of the stars at the time of Chigi’s birth). This was clearly a party house, and artists, poets, cardinals, princes, and the pope himself were entertained here “in magnificent style.”

So – away with yesterday’s beheadings and attacks by wild dogs – and bring on the nymphs and cherubs for fun and frolic!

Triumph of Galatea by Raphael in the main hall

Detail from the Loggia of Cupid and Psyche

Ceiling of the Loggia of Cupid and Psyche

Hall of Perspectives — This scene from the Salone delle Prospettive shows the Torre delle Milizie as it looked in the 1500s

We had a delightful day, and recommend the villa for those who need an occasional break from the saints.

More to come…

DJB

Image: Ceiling detail at Villa Farnesina

Three churches (part one)

Published by DJB

On Andrew’s last full day with us in Rome, he joined Candice and me in visiting three very different churches with widely varying histories, architecture, and art work. It was a great introduction and send-off for Andrew, as we hoped to whet his appetite for future visits to the city.

It turns out that we’ve had two tours, each consisting of visits to three different churches, this week. So I’ve titled this post “Three churches (part one)” and I’ll get to the other three in a later post.

The first we saw with Andrew is one of the city’s best-known historic sites and regularly shows up on “must see” lists. The second was recommended by friends at the academy as a “lovely and troubling space” rolled into one. And the third was found entirely by accident (which is the way we often find hidden gems).

The 12th-century Basilica of San Clemente al Laterano is a minor basilica that consists of three separate buildings located one on top of the other and dating back to ancient Rome. The extensive archaeological excavations of both the 4th-century basilica and the buildings of the first century provide visitors with an intriguing history lesson in how the city of Rome developed. We were fascinated and lingered for a long time in the current church as well as the excavated areas. (The basilica’s policy against photographs limits what I can include, but check out the website for more images. I did take the few photos you see here after watching a priest stand next to the “no photographs” sign and click away repeatedly with his camera!)

San Clemente exterior — Exterior of the Basilica di San Clemente

Apse Mosaics — 12th-century mosaics in the apse of the Basilica di San Clemente

The current basilica – among the most richly ornamented in Rome – contains what has been called a “high point of 12th-century Roman mosaics” as well as a schola cantorum that incorporates marble from the 4th-century basilica when it was abandoned. The basilica has been cared for by Irish Dominicans since 1667, and it was an Irish priest — Fr. Joseph Mullooly, O.P. — who uncovered the 4th-century basilica and eventually the first-century building in 1857.

Colleagues had encouraged us to descend to the bottom (against the flow of the tour), and take in the first century structure first, and then rise up to the 4th-century building. We’re glad we did.

The earliest building sits over a spring and has a section that was modified in the second century to facilitate its use as a Mithraeum by members of the cult of Mithras. There is a second building, separated by a narrow alley, and a long series of small, connected rooms making up this fascinating level. As one climbs a narrow set of stairs the remains of a 4th-century basilica unfold, including tile floors, sculpture fragments, and frescos from subsequent centuries. This large space was abandoned at the beginning of the 12th century, filled in with rubble to the top of the pillars, and thus provided the new foundation for the current church. This is a marvelous way to spend a couple of hours in Rome, gathering a deeper appreciation for the many layers of history found throughout (and underneath) the city.

We then walked the few blocks to see Santo Stefano Rotondo, the unofficial Hungarian church in Rome. With its circular plan (the first in Rome, although the exterior is in the form of a crucifix), this church dates from the 5th century. It is a simple yet majestic space, with a beautiful chapel on one side near the entrance. (There were originally four such chapels, but three were removed in a later restoration.) While we were there, a group of German tourists under the direction of a priest began to sing, and the acoustics — especially in the center section — were wonderful in supporting the singers and their sound.

Then there’s the art work.

If you ever thought it was easy to be a saint, you haven’t been to Santo Stefano Rotondo. Oh my! The walls of the church are decorated with 34 frescoes of martyrdom, commissioned by Gregory XIII in the 16th century. Each painting has an inscription explaining the scene and giving the name of the emperor who ordered the execution, as well as a quotation from the Bible.

In a word, they are gruesome.

Martyrdom fresco — Fresco – one of 34 – depicting a scene of martyrdom

Here’s how the website Revealed Rome puts it:

Spiraling around the circular walls, the paintings depict 34 different martyrs — each being killed in gruesome ways. (Molten lead poured down the throat? Check. Breasts cut off? Check. Boiled alive? Check!) Commissioned by Pope Gregory XIII near the end of the 16th century, the paintings are naturalistic in their graphic displays, making anyone who looks closely enough wince. The peaceful expressions on most of the martyrs’ faces go somewhat toward mitigating the”ouch ouch OUCH” effect… although in all honesty, I find that eerie calm a bit more disturbing than convincing.

And if you don’t believe her, the blogger goes on to quote Charles Dickens:

…such a panorama of horror and butchery no man could imagine in his sleep, though he were to eat a whole pig raw, for supper. Grey-bearded men being boiled, fried, grilled, crimped, singed, eaten by wild beasts, worried by dogs, buried alive, torn asunder by horses, chopped up small with hatchets: women having their breasts torn with iron pinchers, their tongues cut out, their ears screwed off, their jaws broken, their bodies stretched upon the rack, or skinned upon the stake, or crackled up and melted in the fire: these are among the mildest subjects.

So take it only if you have a strong stomach!

Finally, we were looking for a more pleasant (read “green”) short cut on our way home when we walked into what looked like a park and wandered down a small road. Halfway down the hill we stumbled upon the Basilica Santi Giovanni e Paolo – one of the ancient basilicas of Rome and located on the Celian Hill, one of the city’s famous seven hills.

The beautiful tile floor, crystal chandeliers, frescoes, and woodwork made us gasp. The church was built in 398 and is named for two martyred Roman soldiers – John and Paul. While it was open, the church did not have any facilities for a tour when we arrived, and it was being set up for an evening concert. We could see into a couple of the chapels – which were magnificent – and we later learned that the site contains the best conserved Roman era residential building complexes still standing today. However, it was getting late, and we were tired from all the walking.

The church was lit only by natural light when we arrived, so to see the full splendor, view the images of the church found on the web (especially for weddings) to see it in all its glory. I suspect you’ll be as amazed as we were on our visit.

Good things come in threes, and that was definitely true with these three Roman churches. Wonderful stories, fascinating (and gruesome) art work, and layered history you can see and understand. It made for a very nice afternoon in the city.

More to come…

DJB

Image: At prayer in Santo Stefano Rotondo

Contemporary art in historic Rome

Published by DJB

One of the delights of spending time in the American Academy is having the chance to get to know artists – young, older, new to their craft, and famous – and to see their work through open studios, concerts, readings, and performances.

Remembrance Masks — Detail of a work in progress from an open studio at the American Academy

Rome, simply, continues to inspire. And isn’t that what preservationists mean when we say that we need old places because they provide continuity, serve as part of our memory, enrich our individual and civic identity, and inspire creativity?

Candice and I have been privileged to get to know several of these creative and talented individuals who came to Rome to seek inspiration and to inspire others. The first people we met at the Academy four weeks ago were the talented graphic designer Michael Bierut and his wife Dorothy. Michael and I quickly reconnected, realizing that we had worked together on two projects through the years for the National Trust. It was a treat to attend Michael’s lecture at MAXXI, where he spoke about his work based on his recent book How to use graphic design to sell things, explain things, make things look better, make people laugh, make people cry, and (every once in a while) change the world.

Any time we end up at a table with Michael and Dorothy, we know we’ll learn something, laugh a great deal, and come away enriched.

Open studios are great opportunities to see works in progress and to hear first-hand from the artists about their works. Our first open studio here in Rome was for the theatrical set designer Heidi Ettinger, who showed the remembrance masks she had created while at the Academy. Heidi and her husband Jonathan are a wonderful couple who joined us at the Easter Vigil at St. Paul’s Within the Walls. Since then we have enjoyed meals and open studios with new friends Chris and Alice Smith Duncan, Joan Richmond and her husband – architect and preservationist Ken Richmond – and others.

Kara Walker, the incredibly talented artist “best known for exploring the raw intersection of race, gender, and sexuality through her iconic, silhouetted figures,” shared her work from seven weeks at the Academy in an open studio held last week. We were deeply moved by this work and by a catalog from a 2015 London show Go to Hell or Atlanta, Whichever Comes First which she and her partner shared with us. The four of us had a brief conversation around the inspiration that can come to artists from the power of place, with both the good memories and difficult stories they may embody.

The dinner table, set for “I Love You as Food Loves Salt”

Contemporary art can also be performance art, and we had one such experience with food while at the Academy. Chef Chris Behr of the AAR’s Rome Sustainable Food Project joined together with two fellows from the French Academy in Rome to create an evening dinner entitled “I love you as food loves salt.” Based upon a Romanian folk tale involving a king, the youngest daughter he drove away when she told him that she loved him as much as salt, and the way she later won his apology after he learned that “the salt in food is more important than anything else.” It was a mysterious and magical evening of food (flavored with salt!), wine, and good company.

At the Academy we have heard new works by contemporary composers. We have seen traditional watercolors and abstract paper work. We have shared dinners, stories, discussions, and laughter with talented poets such as Bruce Smith, Jules Gibbs, and Neal Hall. And outside the walls, we were delighted to be able to see the work of a newly arrived resident fellow – South African William Kentridge – in his work in progress, Triumphs and Laments: A Project for the City of Rome…

…a large-scale, 550 meter-long frieze, erased from the biological patina on the travertine embankment walls that line Rome’s urban waterfront. More than eighty figures, up to 10 meters high, will form a silhouetted procession on Piazza Tevere, between Ponte Sisto and Ponte Mazzini. Triumphs and Laments will show a non-chronological history of Rome, looking at the laments which inevitably accompany any triumph.

Over dinner, William told us of the difficulties of gaining approval for the work, because some official did not approve of “contemporary art in a historic city.” As regular readers know, I feel this is a short-sided approach. To paraphrase Tony Hiss from a different but related context, cities should embrace old and new to gain a sense of the continuity that shakes us “out of the daydream that the present moment is disconnected from all the lives that preceded us and all the life around us.”

The premier is set for April 21st – after we leave – but Candice, Andrew, and I have all walked along the banks of the Tiber to marvel at this new work. Here’s a very small sampling.

A section of Kentridge’s work “Triumphs and Laments”

Kentridge's Triumphs and Laments — From William Kentridge’s Triumphs and Laments

The black “paint” in the figures is actually the years of grime on the river walls, which was left as the area around the stencils were power-washed away. William estimated that the entire piece will last 5-7 years, at which time the grime will have returned. One of the clear aims of this project is to help reactivate the Tiber River as a public space in the city of Rome. We loved our time along the river and found it a different type of urban space, yet very much of Rome in its essence.

Finally, one finds urban art throughout the city from a wide variety of residents. One small example was this piece that Andrew and I stumbled on Monday as we were out “getting lost” in the central core of the city. Andrew has a well-reasoned opinion about what the artist was trying to convey as a political statement, but I just thought it was clever. We may both be right.

Writer and critic Robert Hughes has said that one of the vital things “that make a great city great is not mere raw size, but the amount of care, detail, observation, and love precipitated in its contents…” He was talking, in large measure, about the historic city. But I believe that historic cities should strive to be the continuous city – where “new buildings, new institutions, and new technologies don’t rip apart the old and wreck it….(instead) they accommodate, they act with respect, and they add vibrant new chapters to history without eradicating it.”

Clearly historic Rome is loved and continues to inspire.

More to come…

DJB

MORE TO COME…

Encounters, discoveries, and observations from the slow lane of life.

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Three churches (part one)

Contemporary art in historic Rome