The Angel of Light dances

 Another favorite church is one of Michelangelo's gems, The Church of Saint Mary of the Angels and Martyrs.  This church is built into and onto the old Diocletian Baths (which are also a wonder!) on the site where apparently there appeared, according to legend, a vision of the angel Urial.  A certain Antonio Del Duca, a Sicilian friar with an obsession for angels, had lobbied for this site (along with many others where angels had appeared) to be made into a site of wordship.  

It is so easy to pass by this church and think it is nothing special.  Afterall, the facade is strange and it is literally built of brick and mortar.

But don't pass it by.

When you walk in it is like walking into a hollowed-out mountain.  It's enormous inside.

All this space above your head creates a magical light.  A glow.  A twinkly effervescence of Beauty and Splendor.  And dancing in this light is a wonderful sculpture of the Angel of Light by Ernesto Lamagna.

Looking like a sliver of an electric shock.  Flying about spreading joy and love and beauty.  

L'amor che muove il sole e l'atre stelle.

Roma! Palazzo Massimo and 'damnatio memoriae'

 In Rome for a few days so I am spending my time revisiting places and artworks that have become friends, in a way.  One place I visited 10 years ago when I was here on my FIDA gift from the heavens (see 2016 blog of Glory) was the National Museum of Rome, situated in the old Palazzo Massimo in all of its robust presence:

As the palazzo for the famiglia Massimo, this was quite the comfortable home.  Indeed, it has an internal courtyard filled with fruit trees and gravel paths. Procured by the nation at some point, now it houses all sorts of glorious objects.  On the first floor you will find countless marble busts and statuary.  Halls and rooms of Roman citizens captured for all eternity for us to gawk at.  Their faces... their noses... their fabulous hairdos.  I just love all the faces.  And the bodies are quite fabulous, rendered in marble.  Some nude, some wearing filmy gowns.  

I like to imagine them all alive and shopping at the Conad.

The second floor has mosaics and frescos.  Zillions.  These frescos were rescued from the Villa Transtibertina when it was discovered while digging for something else.  Surprise!

I thought this bust of the Emperor Nero was quite interesting.  If you recall, Nero (37-68 A.D.) was an Emperor known for his extravagance, and love of art and beauty so you have to give him points for that.  But he spent heavily on these.  Sometimes the building projects were highly suspect and a strange way to spend tax dollars.  (Hmmmmm.....)  He ransacked a lovely part of Rome to build a ballroom, decked out with fake Rococo even though Rococo hadn't been invented yet.  He put up a ridiculous and vulgar Ultimate Fighting arena in the colosseum and got his jollies persecuting Christians.

It is said he played his fiddle somewhat badly while Rome burned.  Don't know about that but it was rumored during his time that he actually set fire to part of Rome because he wanted to build something stupid there... like a tower with his name on it.

He was such a jerk but at least he had the decency to kill himself at age 30.

Upon his death, they set about trying to erase him from history.  The old damnatio memoriae routine (damnation from memory).  They removed his statues and busted up his busts:

The parallels are uncanny and give us something to look forward to. 

The Cult of the Greek Virgin

 The cult of the Greek Virgin is closely linked to the story of Pietro degli Onesti.  After having fled to the Middle East, in disagreement with Archbishop Guiberto of Ravenna (who had apparently claimed himself 'antipope'), he is summed by God back to Ravenna for some strange purpose.  The purpose apparently being that he can be caught in a huge storm at sea, because storms are generally used by God when he wants to convert people.  Terrified out of his mind, he vows to God to dedicate his life to the church and especially to the Virgin Mary.  He survives.  And settles down in a little casa near the port of Ravenna.

On April 8, 1100, a sacred marble bas relief was found on the seashore.  It only allowed Pietro degli Onesti to approach it.

A wonder!  A sacred object!

A church is built.  Zillions of pilgrims come.  Hostels are opened.  Fast food stalls abound.  

It's just overwhelming.

So they decided to build a church large enough to host the pilgrimages.  On the site of the original church, in 1511 is built the current basilica.

 

The left transept is the Chapel of the Greek Virgin.  She is happy to listen to your prayers :)

Galla Placidia in eternal splendor

 Did I mention that Ravenna has 8 UNESCO World Heritage monuments?  Hmmmm....

One of the jewels in the crown is the mausoleum of Galla Placidia.  Born in c. 388, she was the daughter of Emperor Theodosius I and his second wife, Galla.  Placidia took her mother's name as well and her birth brought together two Imperial dynasties, the Valentinian and the Theodosian.  It's all very complicated and reads like a Monty Python skit, but when she is kidnapped and held as hostage by the Visigoth king, Alaric.  Lots of grumbling and throwing things about ensued.  The Visigoths headed to Rome because they discovered the verb "sack" in the dictionary and decided that Rome should indeed be sacked.  Which it was, most famously.  Galla Placidia carried away but remaining quite composed during the whole thing.

On Alaric's death, it is decided that she be forced to marry the new Visigoth king, Athaulf, and things begin to settle down because that makes her the Empress!  She settles into her new role, having babies and demonstrating her intellectual prowess and influence. She ends up being a very fabulous ruler.  At her death, her glorious body is entombed in her mausoleum, which is very close to the marvelous San Vitale.

It's a tiny cabana of love, an orb of splendor, a wee hut of splendor beyond dreams.  What a place to have eternal rest.  You walk into this tiny space.  Once your eyes adjust to the darkness, you look up into the most beautiful azure night sky filled with stars.

There are depictions of saints, the four Evangelists, little animals and landscapes.  There is even a cabinet with the four gospels in it.  Not the best reading for all eternity, but hey ho.

And these sweet little chirpers, having a drinkie-poo.

The only light being that which shines through these amber alabaster windows.

It's truly, truly something remarkable. Truly.

Mosaics and early Christianity

 Ravenna boasts several UNESCO world heritage sites and I am so glad they are protected.  Ravenna has such a remarkable history. Ravenna is in the Emilia-Romagna region of Italy, near the Adriatic coast but actually connected to the sea by a canal.  It became the capital of the Western Roman Empire during the 5th century and from there became an important city for the development of early Christianity.  And this is a story that is not straight-forward.  I have been reading a book about the first 500 years of Christianity, a history of all its forms and approaches.  You can actually see evidence of this in the art of Ravenna's ancient churches.

San Vitale is one of the most extraordinary churches I have ever been in.

Made of brick, it sits there like a fat and jolly octagonal building with all sorts of random sections jutting out here and there.  But when you enter, you know this is a sacred space.  Beautiful painted cupola, alabaster windows, exquisite immersion baptismal fount and mosaics of splendor.  Begun in 526, it was finished in 547 under Bishop Maxentius and in that marked the takeover of Italy by Emperor Justinian.  Here is Justinian in his robes, receiving accolades:

And here is his wife, Theodora, dressed in finery, glib that she has risen through the ranks.  Prostitute to Empress!

And then there is the Commander in Chief, Jesus, in the center of an orb, looking very much like an Emperor himself.

Purple robe, sitting on a throne, Roman sandals, dictating....

The depiction of Jesus in these early mosaics is very telling and when we look at two different baptistries in Ravenna, we get insight into one of the many controversies revolving around the nature of Jesus.  

Once Constantine (in 325 was the Council of Nicaea) proclaimed that Christianity was going to be the 'official' religion of the Roman Empire, he wanted a clear picture of the theological notions and dogmatic beliefs.  The Council of Nicaea plotted it all out and one of the ideas it held to was the idea of the trinity.  That god, the son, and the holy spirit are one essence.  Jesus is God.  He is God made man. That became the bedrock of Roman Catholicism.  And 'orthodox' depictions of Jesus feature that idea.  That he is human, yes.... but God, nonetheless.  Here is the mosaic of Jesus in the Neonian baptistry.

You can see he has a beard, a grown body, a nimbus, the holy spirit and... blurry genitals.

But Arian Christianity held a different view.  Largely the work and influence of Bishop Arius from Alexandria, Arian Christianity rejected the notion of the trinity.  This sect of Christianity believed that Jesus was the son of God, and therefore beneath God, secondary to God.  His humanity was complete, as it had to be to demonstrate the impact of the sacrifice of his life for the salvation of humanity.  In Ravenna during this time, different approaches to Christianity were still allowed.  So you can visit churches and this one baptistry that are of the Arian sect.  Here is their version of the baptism of Christ by John the Baptist.

Jesus is young, nubile and naked.  His genitals are clearly shown to indicate his full humanity.

I think this is all so fascinating.  

Visitando il maestro, il capo

 Dante Alighieri, exiled from his beloved Florence, made his way to Ravenna, which is a rather long way away.  Shunned because of his affiliation with the White Guelphs, a political party that desired to have more freedom from Rome's influence on the political and economic trends in Florence.  Pope Boniface was not going to take any lip from him, as he was known as an intellectual force to contend with, so he had Dante (along with the powerful Gherardini family) exiled from Florence.  No more unsalted bread for you!  (Florence was known for its unsalted bread.  A practice that come about because the city refused to pay hiked up salt taxes)

So here in Ravenna, he begins his Comedia.  His desire is to tell his story, a story of a midlife crisis of faith, that is the story of so many.  Calling upon medieval theological ideas, he begins the story of his losing his way, finding himself in a dark wood, standing before the gates of hell.  "Abandon hope all ye who enter here".... and it begins.

At first, he writes in Latin, because Latin is the accepted language of the arts, literature, and all other important things.  But then he has a realization.  He wants this work to have a wider audience.  So he decides to write it in Latin vernacular, the vulgate language, the common tongue, the Tuscan dialect, to be precise.  And this, my darlings, is the beginning of standard Italian. 

He never goes back home.  Rather, he dies in Ravenna in 1321 and is buried here.  His tomb has gone through many manifestations.  The one you visit today, which does indeed contain his bones, was built in 1780.

During the bombing of WWII, his bones were removed and buried nearby in a park.  They still mark that area with a plaque and a mound of ivy.

Every day at 2pm, a reader stands here and reads from the Divine Comedy.  If you want to be a reader, you can apply to do it online.  

Love moves the sun and the stars. 

The road to Ravenna....

Jean de la Fontaine wrote, "There is no path of flowers leading to glory."  And anyone who has ever taken the train from Bologna Centrale to Ravenna knows this all too well.

Saturday, I left my lovely Renaissance city by taxi at 9.  He took me to the station at Chiusi Chianciano where I delighted in walking up and down the platform because it was flat!  Flat, darlings.  What bliss to walk on a flat surface.  The train came at 12 and dropped me at Bologna at 2:45.  Craziness began around 7 minutes before the train was to arrive and they changed the platform number.  O dio.  About 75 people rushing to switch platforms.  Insanity.  Crammed into the train with it seemed hundreds of sweaty bastards from hell. 

Here's some quick insight.  The train to Ravenna is on the same track as the train to Rimini, a coastal resort town known for its parties, mayhem and general bad behavior.  In the 70s, it was the heroin capital of Italy.  Now it's just full of partially nude and intoxicated youth. 

So I found myself, in my quest for glory and beauty, yearning to feast my eyes and soul on the 5th-6th century marvels of Ravenna, sharing the train with a bunch of hooligans, misfits, wretches, stoned hippies, and a gaggle of rather dopey looking American girls who really shouldn't be doing this. Standing room only.  Sweating like donkeys.  Absolute wretchedness.

Arriving in Ravenna, I pulled out my phone for Google maps and began the 7-minute

walk to my hotel.  Only to be stopped at one street because THE GIRO D'ITALIA WAS COMING THROUGH!!!!!! Oh my god.  Quelle fabulousness!  It was the women's race, but nonetheless, so thrilling to watch all the support cars go by, followed by the peloton.

Then, to my hotel.  Knackered.  Wretched.  I even had to eat a few things out of the mini bar or I was sure I would die.  But here are my room and the breakfast room. 

Ho imparato molto

 My time at Il Sasso comes to a close this week.  I have learned so much and gained confidence that surprises me.  My ability with the language has soared this time and I find myself able to say things without thinking them through first.  It's glorious.

And I have worked with a wonderful teacher, Teresa.  A retired language teacher who taught Italian at universities in France for a good part of her career.  But she is a Montepulciano native and thus has made her way back to her hometown.  What have I learned from her?:

• Confidence
• Humor
• Congiuntivo trapassato and other nightmarish verb tenses
• Lovely idiosyncrasies of Italian culture
• Book recommendations

But by far the most important thing..... that wearing a black bra under a white shirt is BACK, BITCHES!!!

YES!!!

The Language of the Angels

 The protagonist of Thomas Mann's novel, Confessions of Felix Krull, stated, "I am truly in love with this beautiful language, the most beautiful in the world.  .... For me, there is no doubt that the angels in heaven speak Italian.  It is impossible to imagine that these beautiful beings would use a language less musical."

The reference to angels speaking Italian is an indirect reference to a line from The Divine Comedy, in which Dante states, "la lingua degli angeli mostrasi si piacente a chi la ode." -Paradiso XXV (trans.  The language of the angels appears pleasing to those who hear it.)  It is useful, malleable, musical, seductive, harmonious, all qualities that angels like very much. 

Throughout history it has been noted by great poets, thinkers, scholars .... and emperors, that Italian is the superior language.  I think this is best summed up by Emperor Carlo V d'Asburgo (1500-1538) when he stated, "I speak in Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men, and German to my horse."

Oh, Europeans and their sexy multi-lingual ways. 

My journey with Italian definitely started in a 'dark wood,' not unlike Dante's entry into Hell.

I was in that 'dark wood' for quite a while.  Only recently have I entered into the Glory of the Light!  8 years, so far, and still going.  But it is so satisfying to feel fluency coming on.  To speak without translating first, to learn slang expressions, to communicate and be appreciated.  Bello, bello.
 

A great mind

 And, of course, I'm not referring to myself.  But as one wanders the streets of this medieval and later Renaissance city, one is constantly reminded of its importance during the Renaissance.  That the Medici took control of the administration of the city and established one of its banks here might be enough.  True, the Medici presence continues in the design of the communale, the Medici coat of arms (or rather, balls) affixed to the main well, the beauty of various loggia and the evidence of wealth and influence that only a fine family (albeit nouveau riche) can bring a city.  

As you walk on the Via Poliziano, you will pass this building:

This was the birthplace and home of Angelo Poliziano, also known as Angelo Ambrogini.  Born in 1454 and educated in the Classics and Humanism, both very influential during the Renaissance, he rose to notable status as a translator of classic Greek works and a brilliant scholar of philosophy.  It was his knowledge of the humanist principles from the works of Leon Battista Alberti that brought him into the Medici circle.  Lorenzo de'Medici ("the Magnificent") was also mesmerized by this new philosophy that put human endeavor and potential at the forefront of education and social importance.  

Poliziano was hired as a tutor for Lorenzo's children.  And they became rather extraordinary.  One of them, Giovanni, eventually became Pope Leo X.  Here is a section from a fresco that shows Poliziano with Giuliano, Lorenzo's son who eventually is featured in a few of Botticelli's works:

Notice the fabulous Tuscan nose.  Just divine!

The ups and downs of student life

 I have noticed doing research on tourism in Montepulciano that the photos of the city are often of the main piazza, which features the Medici coat of arms, the town well, the palazzo communale:

What is impossible to photograph is the elevation of the city, how it perches regally, looking out over the Val d'Orcia and the Val di Chiana.  A steep, steep, medieval hilltop city, it will have you burning calories  and going anaerobic all day.  Up, down, up, down. Regardless, it draws me back almost every summer.  The school is just marvelous, with wonderful teachers who are enthusiastic, patient and kind.

And the friends I make.... many Europeans wanting to add to their language count.  Most seem to speak about 3 or 4.  So many different lives I get to learn about.  Kindness.  From asking me to join them for a coffee or even lunch.  I have made friends, as always.  And thanks to WhatsApp, I still keep in touch with people I met years ago. 

I went to Porto di Bacco with Alix, a retired nurse from Philadelphia.  I had roast duck with potatoes and oranges, and a large serving of sauteed spinach (my favorite contorno).  A glass of Rosso, a helping of panacotta, a caffe.  Two hours of conversation.   Home to do schoolwork, read, daydream.  What is this magical life of mine?

Abbey of Sant'Antimo ~ going medieval

 Thursday's afternoon excursion was three-fold: a visit to a medieval abbey, a degustazione of Brunello, and a quick walking tour of Montalcino.

The Abbey of Sant'Antima is very extraordinary.  It is one of the most interesting medieval monastic sites as it was founded by Charlemagne (Emperor of the Carolingian Empire in the 8th and 9th centuries who was largely responsible for uniting central and western Europe to tidy things up religiously and politically after the fall of the Western Roman Empire.  But more than anything, he is remembered for his tidying up practices in the scriptoriums, introducing the infamous CAROLINGIAN MINISCULE!!  Please press geek alarm.)  The abbey became a stop on the Via Francigena, the pilgrimage route from Canterbury to Rome.  

As you can see, it is Romanesque Splendor!  A central nave, thick walls, Roman arches, few windows.  Glorious medieval beasts and creatures carved in the columns, smacking their lips as they look down on the monks during vespers.  It is all so easy to imagine!  It is constructed of travertine and marble.  Such a wonderful duet of stone.  The marble is greenish in hue and has developed a sheen.  

Molto bello!

Our art history group is made up of a Finnish woman, Ava,  (a tiny little creature who has a penchant for Latin), a French woman, Annetta, (lives in Strasbourg, is retired, teaches refugees French, very simpatica), and Mickey (a retired American professor whose family comes from Puglia), and ME (a student of the world, traveler, ever curious, day dreaming, chocolate loving, aspiring Italian speaker). 

Pienza ~ The perfect Renaissance city

 Perched on a hilltop is the rather small town of Pienza.  It is about a 20-minute drive from Montepulciano, so today my art history class did an excursion to this lovely place:

Known also as the "city of light" largely because of its city planning.  It dates back to the 9th century but it was in the early 14th century that a large part of the town came under the control of the Piccolomini family.  In 1405, Aeneus Silvio Piccolomini because Pope Pius II.  A humanist, Pope Pius II had some great notions about city planning and urban life.  One humanist principle at work in his redesign of the old Pienza was the belief that environment has a direct effect on people's ability to thrive.  Thus, his idea of the "perfect city" was born.  Bring on the grid, the open spaces, the human-scale buildings and piazzas.  And the grid of the city must be such that plenty of light can come in.  And there must be plenty of wells and an abundance of food:

This is the cathedral which is rather staid and Romanesque on the outside, and a bit of wild Gothic on the inside. 

Looking out over the Val d'Orcia, which is a Unesco world heritage site, one ponders all things magnificent.  AND, one enters a bar and has a lovely panino with cheese and olives.

Pienza has its own blue ribbon as well.  This year they celebrate the 30th anniversary of the town being a Unesco world heritage site. 

Salute!

Italian idioms

 In Montepulciano for a month of living and learning.  What is better?  What magnificent star was I born under?  What bliss is this for a mere mortal such as I?

Montepulciano is a hilltop city with ancient roots.  Scholars can date the use of this hill as habitation as far back as the 4th century, BC with the Etruscans.  In fact, there are museums quite full of Etruscan marvels in nearby Pienza and Chiusi.  E veramente bella:

I love it.  To feel so connected to the past.  To know that the Medici took a fancy to this city and set up operations here.  And you can see that influence daily if you walk through the Piazza Grande and take a look at the municipal building.  Look familiar?  It should.  It is almost an exact replica in a smaller rendering, of the Palazzo Vecchio in Florence.

And as always, a long walk down the hill to San Biagio.  This little gem of a church.  So exquisite.  Renaissance perfection.  Restrained.  This is sprezzatura at its finest. (sprezzatura means amazing without even trying).  It is what we all want to be:

I went to mass this morning and I must make an observation.  I think Pope Leo has sent out a memo to all the priests in Italy to include a message of pace (peace) in their homilies.  The priest in Rome certainly went on about it and this very feisty priest in Montepulciano was bringing it home.  He wants us to represent peace in our daily lives and interactions.  Embody it.  Be glorious in our peace-loving modus operandum.  So I will certainly give it a try.  It's easier here than in a place like Florence where one has to witness uncoordinated American tourists who can't twirl spaghetti onto a fork.  Good lord.

So this message for peace is obviously meant as an indirect response to the big D.  Now there are many words that begin with D.   I can think of one right off the bat.

This makes me think of the gloriousness of Italian idioms!!!

What is better than le frase idiomatiche?!!!!  Niente!!

An idiomatic phrase is something that cannot be fully understood literally. 

Examples in English are: "piece of cake" or "under the weather"

Here are some of my favorite Italian idioms:

Trump e una capra.  Literally: Trump is a goat.  Meaning:  Trump is stupid.

Lui a un prosciutto sulle occhi.  Literally: He has ham on his eyes.  Meaning:  He is so stupid, he cannot see what is in front of him.  

Lui e un carogna infame.  Literally: He is dirty carrion.  This one is interesting because carogna is like road kill (carrion) that is so disgusting that even the vultures won't eat it.  But how this is used is like saying, he is a dirty bastard.  

The endless uses of Italian!!!  Don't let anyone ever tell you that having another language is pointless.

Rothko ~ always controversial?

 Okay.  I have seen my share of Rothko works in various museums. I can appreciate them at an emotional level, I guess.  And really, even Rothko stated that that is the essence of what art is and does.  As he communicated to curator Katharine Kuh, who worked at the Art Institute of Chicago, he felt that "paintings should speak directly to the viewers, without the filter of critical interpretation.  'Silence,' he implied, is the most honest form of engagement with art, an idea that mirrors the meditative stillness [of many of his works]." (from a placard at the Strozzi)

Now.... the Palazzo Strozzi, THAT is my kind of place.  I love this palazzo.  It's enormous, looming over the street, almost menacing.  Very 'plunked' from the heavens; so perfectly Renaissance in its design.  And with a light and airy inner courtyard:

The Strozzi were a very wealthy banking family.  And when their palazzo was built, it was truly one impressive palace.  

When the Pitti family wanted to build their family palazzo, they informed the architect that they wanted Palazzo Strozzi to fit in its interior courtyard.  I think that is known as a 'sick burn'.

So the dimensions were noted, and the architect proceeded to design Palazzo Pitti around them.

The Pitti is..... colossal.  And way too much.  Which was why they agreed to sell it to Cosimo I de'Medici, when his wife, Eleanora of Toledo, got tired of the small rooms in Palazzo Vecchio.

Back to Rothko... which I really don't like.  Maybe I'm a schmuck..... I don't really get the impact.

His work is even at San Marco, "in conversation" with Giotto's work in some of the monk's cells:

What can I say?