DAY ONE IN ROME
Despite my best efforts, travelling across so many time
zones has defeated me entirely. As a consequence, I’m going to post both of my
sight-seeing days in Rome as one blog since it all seems like one big adventure
in my head anyways but I will apologize in advance for the length of this post since I saw a lot in my two days with historical significance and interesting stories behind them.
I suppose I should start with my arrival at the bed and
breakfast and the beginning of my three-day whirlwind. Zen house (my temporary home) is a cute
little apartment tucked into the southeast corner of Rome proper. Because it
took me so long to get here on the first day, I started into the city around
dinner time, dedicated to defeating jet lag even though I had about 2 hours of
sleep on the plane and had essentially been moving for two whole days straight.
Arriving in Rome and determined to not spend my first night
in my room, I set out in search of the Campo de’fiori, a pretty famous
marketplace I read about in my guidebook. Despite about 30 minutes of closely
peering at a map and checking street signs however, it managed to elude me.
Instead, I unexpectedly wandered into the Piazza Navona. The
Piazza Navona is a city square built at the site which was previously (and I
mean previously) the Stadium
Domintan, built in the first century AD to watch the “games” or physical
competitions popular in ancient Rome (not the same as the Olympics). Because of
the way the space was used it was known as the ‘circus agonalis’ or the
competition arena. It is believed that over time the name changed from “in
avone” to “navone”.
As language evolves, speech becomes lazier, a natural effect
of human nature on linguistic progression. When the final sound of one word
sounds the same or similar to the beginning of another, the two sounds will
blend together audibly (called morphology). As this phenomenon is recorded and repeated,
it eventually becomes a conventional word itself or at least a strangely
compounded word called an elision.
Actually ‘itself ‘is a good example. The word is actually two: it’s (as in
belonging to it)+self, however the
two ‘s’s are hard to differentiate when you hear them and hard to distinguish
when pronouncing them as well. Consequently, they were blended together though neither
lost their initial meanings and their combination doesn’t mean anything new.
Often, as in the case of Navona, given enough time, words have the potential to
completely evolve over time and leave their initial meanings entirely behind or
at least hard to distinguish.
But, back to the less academic merit of the square, the
Piazza Navona features a rather spectacular fountain with some nearly-nude men
in the process of completing that task decorating the base. The square now
serves Rome as the home to hundreds of street artists. Spanning the entire area
of the Piazza were a variety of performers, artists, and the ever-present
peddlers trying to sell their wares to the streams of tourists attracted to the
famous piazza. Altogether it was an
infinitely charming panorama and the perfect place for my first dinner in Rome.
I settled into an open air patio restaurant that looked out over the piazza and
was treated to ciabatta bread with an olive oil and balsamic dressing and then
a piece of traditional Italian lasagna and some rossé vino (rose colored wine).
The dinner was spent watching people in
the square shop and perform and poring over my maps. I decided not to let some
sightseeing pass me by simply because it was early evening and many sites were
closed. Many of the monuments of Rome are fountains, public structures, and
monuments which do not have “hours” and are lit up beautifully at night. As
such, I charted my newly requisitioned map with references to my roman
guidebook to decide on what I wanted to and could feasibly see. Then I
practiced my Italian, asking for the check, and continued to walk down the
streets towards another close, renowned monument, The Pantheon.
While The Pantheon is now a Catholic Church, Pantheon
actually means temple to all Gods and was constructed By Marcus Agrippa
(probably-we’re like 80% sure) around 27 BC. This is due to the inscription on
the temple, which reads:
Exact Inscription:
“M AGRIPPA L F COS
TERTIUM FECIT”
The fully written-out Latin (because it’s a pain to chisel
all of that in):
“M[arcus} Agrippa
L[usii] f[ilius] co[n]s[sul] tertium fecit”
and the Translation:
"Marcus Agrippa,
son of Lucius, made this building when consul for the third time."
However, Agrippa’s Pantheon is not the one you see today,
having been damaged by fire in AD 80. It was restored by Domitan but burned
down again in Trajan’s reign (110 AD). The temple we see today was built by
Hadrian and features some significant architectural changes from the original.
Although there is great debate about Agrippa’s original form, Hadrian certainly
changed the orientation from south to north and made one building where there
once were two.
In 609 AD, the Byzantine (E. Roman) Emperor gave the
building to Pope Boniface IV who converted it into the Christian church it is
today, dedicated to Sancta Maria as Martyres. The building's consecration as a
church saved it from the abandonment, destruction, and the worst of the
spoliation that befell the majority of ancient Rome's buildings during the
early medieval period (Mussolini was fascinated by Ancient Roman artifacts and anxious to establish a connection between his italy and the ancient empire, consequently destroying obnoxious amounts of medieval structure to get at the spoils buried beneath).
It was awe-inspiring, but what was really wonderful was the
way it snuck-up on me. Rome is sort of delightful in the way it reveals its
wonders to you. In the United States, the road to a monument is open and well
signed but in Rome, it has been swallowed by the city around it. There is no
hint you are near until you round a corner and it is suddenly before you. And, similar to an Easter egg hunt, half of
the enjoyment of a monument is finding it at all. The first night I spent more
than half of my time poring over my map of the city, trying to find a tiny
little street and then figure out how to get where I wanted to go.
After the Pantheon, I was only a few streets away from the Trevi
fountain which, again, was far more difficult to locate through the winding
streets than the little map implied. But, once close, all I had to do was
follow the crowd and the ever-swelling sound of excited people. Unlike some of
the other Roman monuments, the Trevi Fountain deserves all the hype that it
gets. I got there at twilight so I got
to see it in the daylight and all lit up at night. I have to say that the
fountain in the evening was one of the most spectacular sights in Rome. Period.
The Trevi Fountain was the result of a design contest held
by Clement XII (1730-40) between 18th century sculptors and
architects inspired by the work of a Florentine sculptor named Gian Lorenzo Bernini
who designed many of Rome’s most renowned fountains including the fountain in
Piazza Navona (Fountain of the rivers).
In 1732, Niccolo Salvi’s design won and Giuseppe Pannini completed the project
in 1762 and was revolutionary in the realization of Bernini’s ambitious desire
to combine the facade of the building behind into the sculpture itself.
Strategically lit, the fountain takes on an ethereal quality untouched by the
throngs of tourists filling the square so thickly you have to shove through to
see it at all. The effort however, was more than worth it.
From there I went in search of the Spanish steps. Without
realizing it, I embarked on a quest of epic proportions. Rome is not built on a
grid, or on any sort of system, really, and is decorated by literally thousands of tiny streets, driveways,
and piazzas. Additionally, like any truly historical city, names are repeated
throughout the city and roads cannot be counted upon to remain named the same
thing 20 yards away. As you can imagine, this makes navigating the streets of Rome
in the glow of a Roman evening difficult if not impossible. I did eventually find it, because it was also
my metro stop back home but the search was a little desperate by the end, and
ultimately a bit of a let-down. The stairs were beautiful but full of tourists
and difficult to see, and after the Trevi, it lacked the grandeur to capture my
imagination.
After a few minutes looking around, I hopped on the metro
back to re dei Rome and my B&B and wandered back through the dark streets
where I was less than delighted to learn that my attempt at defeating jet leg
had not worked, even a little. I spent about four hours tossing and turning in
my bed in that miserable half-sleep where you feel entirely conscious but
looking back, realize that your train of thought was not entirely logical. I
spent those four hours sincerely convinced I was still lost in the winding
streets of Rome. Finally, near 6 in the morning, Italian time, when the pink
just started to creep into the sky, I finally fell asleep.
DAY TWO IN ROME
Because it took me so long to get to sleep the night before,
(Morning, really) and considering I had only had two hours of sleep in the past
48, I overslept the alarm I had set for myself. I had been a little unreasonable,
I admit, but had allocated my second, and only full day to seeing the Vatican.
I had planned to be up around 8 to be at the Vatican by 9/9:30 but instead, I
woke up around noon.
I hastily showered and got dressed before catching the next
subway to the Vatican. Wandering trough the streets toward the city walls, I
came across a wonderful looking pizzeria and hopped inside for something easy
to eat as I kept walking. It was blood sausage, mushroom, and artichoke. It was
wonderful. To go, Italians will heat up a piece of pizza for you so its warm
and crunchy and fresh and then fold it in half like a sandwich and wrap it up
for portable convenience (Brilliant!!)
Finally I arrived at St Peter’s Basilica, fronted by the
Piazza San Pietro. Designed by our man
Bernini in the 1650s, it was intended to mimic the human embrace. The colonnade is the gateway to the largest church in the world and in the center stands an
Egyptian obelisk that once stood in the center of Nero’s circus where Saint
Peter was murdered in AD 64.
As I hope you assumed from the name of the basilica where
the Pope himself holds mass, Saint Peter is pretty important to the development
of Roman Catholicism and the power they once, and still do, hold.
Saint Peter (we all know him as Simon Peter of the 12
apostles). According to Catholic belief, Peter was the first Bishop of Rome and
chief pastor of the entire Catholic Church—the Vicar of Christ upon Earth. Although
Peter never bore the title of "Pope", or "Vicar of Christ",
the Catholic Church believes him to be the first Pope. Therefore, they consider
every pope to be Peter's successor and the rightful superior of all other
bishops. The Catholic Church's recognition of Peter as head of its church on
Earth (with Christ being its heavenly head) is based on its interpretation of
two passages from the Canonical Gospels of the New Testament; as well as Sacred
Tradition. The first passage is John 21:15-17 which is: "Feed my lambs,
feed my lambs, feed my sheep" which is seen by Catholics as Christ
promising the spiritual supremacy to Peter.
The second passage is Matthew 16:17-20:
I tell you that you are Peter, and
on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hell will not overcome
it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven; whatever you bind on
earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed
in heaven".
Coupled with the
belief (by some) that the basilica is St. Peter’s resting place, Rome claimed
power over those even of their own rank within the church, because of the
superior position of their Basillica and saint in the religious heirarchy. This convenient interpretation led the
bishops of Rome to attempt to assert
their supremacy over the patriarchs of the great Christian centers of the East
when there began to be divisions in theological doctrine between the East and
West leading to the eventual East-West Schism of the Catholic Church into Roman
Catholic and Greek/Eastern Orthodox, which kind-of happened in 1054 (though it
was centuries-long and only began in 1054).
In the early 4th century, the Emperor Constantine I (who also dramatically converted to Christianity-Battle of Milvan bridge) honored Peter with a large basilica.
Because the precise location of Peter's burial was so firmly fixed in the
belief of the Christians of Rome, the church to house the basilica had to be
erected on a site that was not convenient to construction. The slope of the
Vatican Hill had to be excavated, even though the church could much more easily
have been built on level ground only slightly to the south. There were also
moral and legal issues, such as demolishing an ancient necropolis to make room
for the building. The focal point of the Basilica is the altar located over
what is said to be the point of Peter's burial.
When I arrived, St. Peter’s had a line about half a mile
long (not exaggeration), approximately 8 people wide, on average. The line
extended down the entire left side of the piazza’s colonnade and into the
square itself some two or three hundred yards. Settling in to wait, I pulled
out my book and started reading as I stood in line. It took me little over an
hour and a half to reach the head of a line, where people were being scanned
and walking trough metal detectors before entering the church. It was worth the
wait.
Everything in Saint Perter’s is made of of marble, bronze,
or gold, and what appear to be altar paintings are actually mosaics with miniscule
tesserae (the technical term for the tiny, square mosaic tiles). One of the
most spectacular and moving pieces in the basilica is Michelangelo’s (of
course), Pieta, made in 1499 and
boneachingly beautiful while expressing so much sorrow.
There is no way to truly express how overwhelming and
incomprehensibly vast and intricate the interior of Saint Peter’s really is,
but I can say this; upon entering, I was overwhelmed with tears. Im not
terribly religious and I’m certainly not catholic but there is something so
spectacular about Saint Peters. It is in the exquisite splendor of the art itself, and the awe of the talent and
work that went into it but it is also the very real, and simple beauty of human
faith and its ability to inspire such great masterpieces.
Alas, after about an hour or a little more of wandering and
staring and taking photos, I wandered outside and to the Vatican Museums to see
the Sistine Chapel, Lacoon, and a
couple other bucket list masterpieces hidden within only to discover I had
completely missed what was to be the absolute peak of my trip through Rome.
Incredibly disappointed, I decided I still didn’t want to
miss out on the rest of the day, since it was just after four. So, instead of the Vatican Museums and the
foundational art of Europe, I checked out some of the foundational
architecture.
First up? What else but the Coliseum? The flavian
Amphitheatre (AD 72-80) was pretty imposing, in the elegance of the design, and
in sheer bulk, and in the recollection of it’s former function as a theatre of
slaughter. At the height of the Roman Empire, games were held almost every
other day, seating 65,000 romans who were able to be seated in a matter of
minutes thanks to the efficient design of 80 numbered vomitora (entrance/exit passageways). Truthfully however, the Coliseum really only took me about twenty minutes. I chose not to go inside
because it was expensive and not all that spectacular from what I heard. The
outside is not as well preserved as it could be which is also unfortunate, but
it was still interesting to see.
Just beyond however, was another, much more gratifying
monument: the Arch of Constantine. Decorated largely in the sculpture looted
from the monuments of earlier emperors, the arch was dedicated in AD 315 to commemorate
a moment that became one of my favorite stories from late antiquity, the Battle
of the Milvian Bridge in 312 where Constantine I defeated his co-emperor
Maxentius after having a vision of the Christian Cross. The superstitious
Constantine ended centuries of roman persecution of the Christians with the
Edict of Milan in 313 AD. Right now you’re thinking, what’s so funny? Well, you
need a little background info.
As the Roman Empire began to grow and expand, conquering
neighbors on all sides, wars began to spring up on opposite borders and the
Empire was quickly becoming too broad to cross. This complicates things
when Roman soldiers expect their emperor to be their general in battle since
wars were ranging simultaneously on opposing fronts and you can’t be in two
places at once, or can you?
Sensing the empire's weakness as it was stretched over a
greater and greater area, Diocletian appointed general Maximian as
co-emperor—firstly as Caesar (junior emperor) in 285, followed by his promotion
to Augustus in 286. Diocletian took care of matters in the Eastern regions of
the Empire while Maximian similarly took charge of the Western regions. In 293,
feeling more focus was needed on both civic and military problems, Diocletian,
with Maximian's consent, expanded the imperial college by appointing two
Caesars (one responsible to each Augustus)—Galerius and Constantius Chlorus.
This governmental system was known as the Tetrarchy. Predictably, when
Diocletian stepped down from the throne, the inherent rivalries of the system
led to struggles between his successors for control of the empire, in its
entirety.
However, a particular feud was responsible for much of the
bloodletting of the civil war. Constantine was the son of the western emperor
Constantius but the tetrarchic ideology does not provide specifically for
hereditary succession, instead passing the title on to a selected worthy
candidate who was then trained as Caesar to the particular Augustus. When Constantius passed, however, his troops
proclaimed Constantine as Augustus. In
Rome, however, the favorite for the position was a general Maxentius, who
seized what he saw as his rightful title. Since the ruler of the Eastern
Province, and the senior Augustus recognized Constantine as Augustus, however,
Maxentius was seen as a usurper.
The Eastern Augustus sent men into Rome to take it form
Maxentius but failed on numerous occasions until, in 312, Constantine faced
Maxentius himself. Constantine was wiley where Maxentius was clever however,
and stated that he had been given a dream from the heavens promising him
victory if his soldiers bore the Chi-Rho (the two first letters of Christ in
Greek, superimposed on one another to form a symbol for Christ) on their
shields. While that might have been an exaggeration, it brought many Christians
(who were a reasonably large minority of the population and had been openly
persecuted in Rome for centuries) to his side, undermining Maxintius’s position
and winning the battle where they met- the Milvian Bridge-quite easily, with Maxentius dying in the process.
The battle gave Constantine undisputed control of the western
half of the Roman Empire and the arch erected in his name fancifully depicts
these events. Constantine’s victory gave him total control of the Western Roman
Empire paving the way for Christianity to become the dominant religion for the
Roman Empire and ultimately for Europe. The following year, 313, Constantine
and Licinius issued the Edict of Milan, which made Christianity a formally
recognized and tolerated religion in the Roman Empire.
It is important, at this point, to note that in Rome,
everything is on top of everything else. It is not just another urban center,
either where things are close together to allow for population density but
actually, the ancient sites are even built very close together. There is a
reason for this. Monarchs build
monuments to communicate with the common population. It can be to communicate
wealth and power, military prestige, or even beneficence (i.e. the desire to
provide entertainment like the Coliseum). As such, a new ruler has to compete
with the monuments of his predecessors because he is compared to them and so he
wants his monument to be superior and demonstrates his own competence as an
emperor by building a superior monument right next to the old one.
Keeping that in mind, next to both the coliseum and
Constantine’s arch is the Roman Forum, the center of ancient Roman life. It was
in the forum that processions and elections were housed, where speeches were
made and criminal trials were held, and it is where the commerce of Rome
radiated from. The site is impressive, especially in conjunction with the ruins
of the Palatine (the oldest part of Rome and where Romulus-the founder-
supposedly began the city) and Capitoline Hills (the citadel of the earliest
Romans), is a vast and intimidating site. Although I have read a lot about it
and walked the entirety of the site, I can honestly say that the complexity is
beyond what I understand and was interesting in more of a tourist's way for me,
than as a historian and archeologist. The history of the forum is so varied and
extensive that, as a subject outside of my specific field, confounds me even as
I am impressed at the magnitude and ancestry of what I am seeing. As a
consequence, I unfortunately have very little to share with you.
Leaving the forum (as it closed around 7), I decided
to wander the streets of Rome until I came across some place wonderful I wanted
to stop and eat. Just outside of the
gates is the Piazza Venezia, named after the city of Venice and serving as the
former embassy of the Republic of Venice to the city of Rome. It also marks the central hub of Rome with an
enormous roundabout intersection between the Via dei Fori Imperiali (the road
beside the Coliseum and the Forum) and the Via Corsa which features the Trevi
Fountain, Pantheon, and Spanish steps along it’s stretch.
Since the prior day had been spent with my nose glued to my
map, I decided I would just wander the streets this time around. One of the first things I came across was
another piece of Art I learned about in class, which kind of captured me:
Trajan’s Column. It is less than imposing in person but I think a lot of it is situational.
Trajan’s Column is almost one hundred feet tall and is a triumphal column
commemorating The Emperor Trajan’s victory in the Dacian Wars. Trajan’s Column separates itself from other
monuments in it’s decoration: a continuous narrative band spirals upwards from
the base, all the way to the top. The scenes unfold continuously to tell the
story of Trajan’s two most spectacular victories in the war. The band,
technically referred to as a frieze, is 3 feet tall at the base and expands to
four feet near the top to enable easier readability. Today it stands in a
square surrounded by modern buildings but when it was built, Trajan’s column
was designed to be read. On either side of the column, Trajan’s original forum
included libraries-one latin and one greek with open second stories, lifting the
observer up to more easily read the narrative of the column clearly.
Directly across from the forum is a building with a
classical façade over the front. Inside, it was simply a mall but featuring a
true espresso bar. Since I had been going all day and had yet to buy some
famous Italian espresso, I figured it was time for some coffee. I ordered a
cappuccino for 1,30 € (so cheap!!). It was wonderful and flavorful and beautiful. As I sat
and reveled in espresso, made the way God intended, I also enjoyed a brief
glimpse through an art and architecture of Rome I picked-up at the Vatican and
which you can thank for some of the information I have on these sites and
monuments.
After coffee I wandered again until I came across a mozzarella bar
tucked into a small corner of a back road. I knew it was good when not a single
tourissmo was in sight but locals sat lounging on the patio in droves. I
ordered something I couldn’t pronounce on the gamble that one of the words in
the title was a derivation of the word pesto. I was correct. It turned out to
be an excellent dish made with potatoes, green beans, and handmade trofie, a
thin, twisted pasta all tossed in a pesto sauce. It was to die for even though,
in all honesty, it might have resembled a bowl of green worms.
Sitting under the awning and groaning over my food with locals
shooting me looks of approval and amusement, I realized something. Despite some
of the setbacks of Rome, I was truly enjoying Italy and having figured out what
any Italian knows inherently, Rome is charming when you just let go of your
plans and let it take you where it wants to take you. Enjoy being a traveler,
appreciating what you see rather than seeking out the sights and planning your
way around the city. The Italians made it confusing on purpose, they want us
Americans to slow down and really give their city a chance.
Eating my trofie helped me to realize that, and the city
nodded its approval when I came, randomly, across the gelato place listed in my
guidebook but which had proved elusive the previous day. With such a sign, and
a temptation like gelato, who could say no? I grabbed two flavors that looked like they
might be berry-based: one ended up being strawberry and the other was a sour
cherry local to Italy; both were delicious.
After that, it was back to the coliseum, enjoying the same
sights illuminated in the darkness, then down to the Metro and to the Bed and
Breakfast. I packed up my bags for the morning, set my alarm, and then Skyped with Stuart until I fell asleep.
