Monday, August 20, 2018

Rome & environs (Part 3: the end): Viterbo, Cosa, Renaissance gardens and Etruscan tombs

       

            The next day we rented a car at the main train station and headed north to Viterbo, our base for exploring the region just north of Rome.  Getting out of Rome was a nightmare.  We had neglected to buy a detailed city map and Hertz had nothing to tell us except “Take the Via Salaria!”  The city itself has no signage.  After several circlings and backtrackings and some shouting at each other, we eventually found ourselves on the road to Viterbo.

        Viterbo is a smallish city, sprawling over hilly terrain.  

It’s known to Italian tourists 

but not much to foreigners, despite a large medieval center with narrow streets and buildings of dark stone (probably rather gloomy in the winter) and some very good restaurants.  

On the edges of the old town, familiar 19th century architecture lines the squares. 


After a late lunch of tasty panini (sandwiches), we drove 15 km to the hilltop town of Bomarzo to see the Park of the Monsters, aka the Sacred Grove.  In a remote valley below the town, Pier Francisco Orsini, a local noble, created this garden in the mid 16th century. On hillsides and terraces, amidst trees, bushes, and grass, colossal statues were carved out of bedrock.  

Some are monsters.  

Some refer to classical mythology.  

Some are logic-defying, like the tilted house. 

And some structures, like the imitation temple at the top, evoke classical architecture, which was of great interest in the Renaissance.  

The garden is privately owned – imagine, owing a garden like this! – but well organized for visitors.


        A few days later we visited another Renaissance garden, but of a very different sort.  At the Villa Lante, at Bagnaia just outside Viterbo, the gardens with wonderful water features are symmetrically laid out on a hillside, in a series of terraces.  

Each level has its own peculiarities: grottos with waterfalls, water spewing out of the mouths of grotesques, large sculpture groups, fountains of various sorts, and different planting designs.  

Calculating the water flow was surely a big challenge for the hydraulics engineer, Tomasso Ghinucci from Siena, but he rose to the task perfectly. 


        Our main purpose in visiting this region, however, was archaeological.  One goal was to see Cosa, the other to have a look at some Etruscan tombs. 

Cosa is a major example of a city during the Roman Republic, a period poorly known in Rome itself because of later imperial, Renaissance, and modern construction.   

The site is located on hills above the Mediterranean coast, a lovely setting.  
Cosa: city walls and gate
At the very top, high up with a fabulous view, is the arx (Latin: the citadel), a small walled area enclosing the city’s principal temples. The forum lies at a lower level.  

The current excavations (under the direction of Andrea De Giorgi, of Florida State University) are exploring a bath complex, in and around olive trees still very much part of the privately owned landscape. 


        For much of the first millennium BC this entire region – Viterbo, Bomarzo, Cosa – was Etruscan territory.  The Etruscans were an Italic people dominating the center of the peninsula, from Rome north to Florence and even beyond, until the expanding Roman state eventually conquered them and absorbed their culture. 

Etruscans loved elaborate tombs – second only to the Egyptians in the Mediterranean basin.  Their many surviving tombs have been explored ... and pillaged ... for several centuries.  We were keen to see some examples.

        Southwest of Viterbo are two major Etruscan cemeteries: Tarquinia and Cerveteri (ancient Caere).  Tarquinia is an attractive town on a hill, with the sea visible not far away, with nicely kept-up buildings painted in ochres and pinks. 

One section of the vast ancient necropolis has been prepared for visitors, just outside of the modern city.  We visited 22 tombs, cut into the bedrock, and decorated with wall paintings.  
Tarquinia: necropolis. Modern structures atop ancient tombs

Most of these tombs consist of rock-cut steps that lead down to a single tomb chamber, not particularly big.  

Today, the tomb chamber is closed with a glass-paneled door.  You can’t go inside – a protection against humidity of human breath – so you push a button, illuminating the chamber, and you get a good view of the wall paintings.  Included in the selection were some well-known tombs, such as the Tomb of Hunting and Fishing (late 6th c. BC) and the Tomb of the Leopards (ca. 470 BC).  
Tomb of the Leopards 
Photo: Pinterest (No copyright infringement is intended) 

Fortunately, there weren’t many tourists around, so we never had to wait to have a look.

        After lunch in the city, at a delightful restaurant underneath large yellow parasols, we crossed the street and visited the Archaeological Museum housed in a 15th century palace. 
Attic red-figure kylix (drinking cup), painted by Oltos (510-500 BC). Found in an Etruscan tomb. Tarquinia Archaeological Museum


        In contrast, at Cerveteri, our last stop before returning to Rome, the Etruscans did not feature tombs with wall paintings.  

Instead, they carved multi-chambered tomb complexes cut out of the bedrock, with a cluster of tombs sometimes covered with a tumulus, a circular mound of earth surrounded by a low wall. 


        Like the cemetery at Tarquinia, Cerveteri is well organized for tourists, with visitable tombs well indicated with informative signs in Italian and English.  We entered about 15 tombs, located at different places along the many rock-cut streets in this city of the dead.  

The most famous of the tombs, the Tomb of the Reliefs, is unusual.  It is later than most – 4th c. BC, whereas the others are 7th-6th centuries BC – and it is a hypogeum, carved below ground without a tumulus on top. Because its relief sculptures retain traces of the original paint, this tomb we had to view through a glass door, whereas we could step into the other tombs, which had no fragile paintings to protect.  The glass panel was a bit opaque – moisture trapped in between the panes – so I must admit I wished I could have gone inside to inspect the details.  Someday, perhaps, with special permission?

        The return to Rome and the car rental office, which we were dreading, turned out to be easy.  We entered the city from the west along the Via Aurelia, the ancient Roman road still followed today.  No signage, of course, but luck was with us.  Heading ever east, toward the Vatican City, then across the Tiber to the Piazza del Popolo, then into the Villa Borghese gardens and down toward the Piazza della Repubblica, with one-way streets all one-way in the right direction, we found ourselves at the main train station without having made a single wrong turn.  


        We still had a late afternoon free.  Our hotel owner’s father recommended that we visit the Crypta Balbi.  This turned out to be fascinating.  This museum is built on the site of a porticoed courtyard, an annex of the theater built in 13 BC by Lucius Cornelius Balbo, a wealthy Roman.  It documents the building history of this neighborhood, from ancient Roman times through the Middle Ages all the way to the present.  Detailed maps, drawings, and photographs together with architectural fragments and objects from these many centuries show in precise and exciting fashion the complexity of urban change in this great city. 



Saturday, August 11, 2018

Rome & environs (Part 2): ancient Ostia



The next day we set out for Ostia Antica, ancient Ostia.  Although I had studied Ostia in classes and written about it in my book, Ancient Cities, this was my first visit and I was very much looking forward to it. 

Located at the mouth of the Tiber, Ostia was Rome’s port, thriving in particular in the 2nd century AD, when the emperor Trajan expanded the nearby harbor facilities, but falling in decline from the 3rd century on.  Since it wasn’t much built over in the Middle Ages and later, archaeologists have had good access to the ruins.  

Much was cleared in the 19th and early 20th centuries, in the grand manner of yesteryear: big sections of buildings emptied of earth by many workmen, without much attention paid to the niceties of stratigraphy.  In addition, much consolidation and restoration has been done, although details of when and how are rarely made clear.  

        To get to Ostia we had to take a train – a 30-minute walk from our hotel.  We followed the Tiber on a wide tree-lined sidewalk, enjoying the view of the river 

and taking a look at the “Ponte Rotto” (the “Broken Bridge,” a fragment of the Pons Aemilius, the oldest stone bridge in Rome, built in the 2nd century BC).  

To our left was the Aventine Hill, one of Rome’s classic seven hills.  High above us, atop a large complex, a flag with the Maltese cross was flying, the insignia of the Sovereign Order of Malta, a venerable member of the many Catholic religious establishments in this city. 
Magistral Villa / Villa del Priorato di Malta [belongs to the Sovereign Order of Malta)(Photo credit: By Lalupa - Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2929050)

        At the south end of the Aventine we left the river and turned inland on the Via Marmorata.  We passed in front of a Post Office built in 1935, a striking example of the architecture of the Mussolini period – very different from the Renaissance and Baroque architecture that marks the city center. 
Palazzo delle Poste Roma Ostiense. Architect: Adalberto Libera. 1935


        Soon after we reached the large square with our station.  Also here are the Porta San Paolo, an impressive gate into the late 3rd century AD city walls (the Aurelian walls, so-called after the emperor Aurelius, who had them built) 
Porta San Paolo (Saint Paul Gate) 

and a pyramid, the tomb of Gaius Cestius, a wealthy Roman who decided an imitation of an Egyptian tomb would be just the thing (12 BC).   

Beyond the pyramid lies the Protestant Cemetery, something unusual in this Catholic city.  Buried here are such notables as the poets Keats and Shelley.

        Our train was heading to the beach, the Lido of Ostia, and many passengers were dressed with beach in mind.  After a 30-minute ride, we got off and walked to the site.  

It’s vast, and now attractively filled with umbrella pines, the signature tree of Rome, as well as the extensive remains of buildings, almost all of orange-red baked bricks.  

It’s also on the flight path to Rome’s biggest airport, Fiumicino, located just across the Tiber on the site of the ancient imperial harbors, so above us, airplanes were heading in with frequent regularity.

        We had lunch at the on-site restaurant, visited the small museum (filled with Roman sculpture but nothing about the history and architecture of the city), and walked around the site, a visit that took several hours.  

There weren’t masses of tourists, even if we were never alone for long, and it wasn’t too hot.


In some buildings, no doubt restored, you could climb up to an upper story and get a good view.  

Elsewhere, we wandered inside buildings with many rooms and courts, all this giving a good sense of the complexity of Roman architecture and city life.  


A highlight: the Portico of the Corporations (Piazzale delle Corporazioni) located behind the small theater.  

The portico framed a large garden with a small temple.  Behind the portico lay the offices of companies involved in maritime shipping.  In front of many of these offices was a floor mosaic, black and white, with images and inscriptions indicating the company’s specialty.  

An elephant, a sign of traders from Sabratha (in today’s Libya), is a favorite, 

but there are other mosaics of equal interest. 


Another highlight: the House of Cupid (Amor) and Psyche, a late (4th century AD) house, clearly belonging to wealthy people, finely decorated with beautiful marble.  

It is located at the far end of the site, but worth the effort to find. 


After we left the ruins, I went into the ticket office / bookstore and bought a good guidebook to the site.  I wish I had had it with me as we walked around.  The explanatory panels are difficult to follow, and the maps posted do not indicate clearly where you are. 

We took the train back to Rome, then walked back to the hotel, stopping on the way in the ancient Forum Boarium (cattle market), just in from the Tiber, to admire the two well-preserved temples, one round (Temple of Hercules Victor), 

the other rectangular (Temple of Portunus).  

No one else was inspecting them, but across the street we noticed a long line.  What were these people waiting for?  To take their turn to enter the portico of the Church of Santa Maria in Cosmedin, to see “La Bocca della Verità” (“The mouth of truth”), an ancient sculpture, round in shape, of a bearded man with his mouth open.  


According to the legend, if you put your hand inside and swear falsely, the mouth will close and cut off the hand.  Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck were here in “Roman Holiday” (1953) – a long time ago, but how can we forget them? 


After the temples, one additional stop: ice cream!



         


Monday, July 23, 2018

A day's walk in Rome + Turkish elections



                Elections were held here in Turkey on June 24. That afternoon, we flew to Rome, our first trip there since 2002 (with a group from our Archaeology department).   I learned the election results that evening, as soon as we had checked into our hotel.  A triumph for President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, a big disappointment for the opposition.  [More on the results at the end of this posting.]

        We went out for dinner in Trastevere, the district on the other side of the Tiber River.  

The streets were filled with young people, mostly foreign, having a good time.  Some restaurants, clearly trendy, had big lines.  We found a table in an untrendy restaurant and had a tasty dinner of pasta and salad.


        The next morning, after an Italian coffee with milk and a croissant, we set out for a big walk in the historic center.  First target: the Ara Pacis (Altar of Peace).  En route, we crossed a little square with a fountain; admired the ruined temples of the 3rd-2nd c. BC at Largo Argentina


bought maps and a guide book in la Feltrinelli,  a large bookstore; and visited the church of il Gesù (1584), the first major Jesuit church and a pioneer of the Baroque style of architecture.  

Ignatius of Loyola, founder of the Jesuits, is buried here in an ornate and rather forbidding tomb.  The painting of the nave ceiling, “Triumph of the Sacred Name of Jesus” by Gaulli (1670s), is colorful, brilliant, complex, and astoundingly theatrical.  If only we had more time and a pair of binoculars!

        Th next stop after heading north through narrow streets: the Pantheon. Before entering the Pantheon, I was curious to see a church across the street: Santa Maria sopra Minerva, built on the ruins of a temple of Isis or Minerva.  This turned out to be a large church in the Gothic style.  Gothic is highly unusual in Rome, a city in the doldrums during the later Middle Ages, the heyday of Gothic architecture elsewhere.  The church has a few Byzantine touches, too, also unexpected.  The result is a curious mix.  Lots of interesting details, though.  One side chapel has paintings by Filippo Lippi, and a statue by Michelangeo of Jesus carrying a cross.  I read later that Fra Angelico is buried here, not to mention St. Catherine of Siena.   Another time.


        In the square in front of this church is a delightful monument, the sculpture of an elephant with a small Egyptian obelisk planted on its back (by Bernini and his student, Ferrata, 1667).

        Then across to the Pantheon, which we entered together with hordes of tourists.  

Entrance is free, since it is a church (and has been so since the 7th c.), even if owned and administered by the Italian state.  This building of 113-125 is breathtaking, truly glorious – and larger than I had remembered.   We wandered around, enjoying the sensation of the space created by the round plan, the grand dome, and the opening (oculus) at the top. 


        More picturesque narrow streets ... and eventually in front of us, the very modern Museum of the Ara Pacis, designed by Richard Meier, opened in 2006 (after our 2002 trip to Rome). 

This gives a light and airy home to the reconstructed Altar of Peace (Ara Pacis), commissioned by the emperor Augustus in 13-9 BC.  We went in at lunchtime.  Only a few others were there, amazingly, considering that the Ara Pacis with its relief sculptures  is one of the iconic works of ancient Roman art.  We admired the monument at leisure, taking many photos, and then went downstairs to see an exhibition of large-format color photographs of the Aurelian walls (270-275 AD) by the Italian photographer, Andrea Jemolo.  
Ara Pacis

        Outside, a rainstorm.  I had come prepared with an umbrella, having checked the weather forecast, although when we set out that morning rain hardly seemed possible.  We went to a nearby bar for a simple lunch of sandwiches (panini – ham and cheese), sparkling water and beer, and espresso, and then headed off for our next destination, Bernini’s sculpture of the Ecstasy of St. Teresa, in the church of Santa Maria della Vittoria.

        Our walk took us toward the Spanish Steps, like the Pantheon another touristic magnet.   But the Piazza di Spagna was empty.   Bedraggled tourists pressed themselves against buildings in an effort to protect themselves from the rain.   A little army of south Asians (Indians? Sri Lankans?) was out selling umbrellas and light-weight ponchos but had few takers.   I wondered why.    Faith that rainfall in late June  wouldn’t, couldn’t  last long?

        The road began to climb; we were heading up to the Quirinal, one of Rome’s seven hills.  I was keen to see Bernini’s sculpture of The Ecstasy of St. Teresa of Avila (1652), which I teach in my survey course of European art and architectural history.  From descriptions and photographs,  I knew St. Teresa and the angel were not alone;  Cornaro family donors were included in the group.  I couldn’t tell, though, if they were sculpted or painted, nor did I have any sense of the overall arrangement.

        Santa Maria della Vittoria, the church that is home for this art work, is not worth writing home about.  The Cornaro Chapel, however, is something else.  

Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Cornaro Chapel 

(photo from internet, Khan Academy.org)

Located in the left (west) transept, the chapel is not deep at all, but shallow – which surprised me.  Teresa and the angel are placed on a cloud, below an array of gilded rods indicating a sunburst.   In late afternoon, a window just above on the west side of lets in sunlight,  intensifying the brilliant yellow of the rods.  Since it was a rainy afternoon, we couldn’t experience this effect.  The donors are sculpted, it turns out, and placed as if seated in theater boxes, high up on either side of the chapel, watching the spectacle of Teresa in her intense spiritual moment.  Behind the donors, an illusion of three-dimensional architecture extends the sensation of space.  A lot of colored marble is used in the chapel. The overall effect is quite astonishing. 

Far left: Santa Maria della Vittoria 



        We walked back to the hotel first along the crest of the Quirinal Hill, with a brief visit into the church of San Bernardo alle Terme (1598; a smaller-scale imitation of the Pantheon, inserted into a corner of the immense Baths of Diocletian); paid hommage to Borromini’s church of San Carlo alle Quattro Fontane, open only in the mornings; a look into a park, with a surprising modern statue; 

enjoyed the vast Piazza del Quirinale, 

the square in front of the presidential palace, from which one has an expansive view over the city toward the west.  

Castor (or Pollux?) + horse, details from the statue group in the 

Piazza del Quirinale 


Heading downhill, we stopped for tea and some delicious almond cookies, just in time to avoid another downpour; and continued back to the hotel, via the Piazza Venezia and, not far beyond, the Largo Argentina and the little square with the delightful fountain.  


        Not bad for a day’s walk!



-------------------

More on the Turkish election results ... Some statistics that interested me:

        Recep Tayyip Erdoğan scored 52.6% nationally; his closest contender, Muharrem İnce, 30.6%.  Ankara province voted 51.5% for Erdoğan.  My district (ilçe), Çankaya, Ankara’s largest with 600,000 voters, went 64.4% for İnce, 23.6% for Erdoğan, but all other districts put Erdoğan first. 

        Aegean Turkey and Thrace favored İnce; the southeast preferred Selahattin Demirtaş, who was running his campaign from prison.  Virtually everywhere else, Erdoğan won.  Among Turks voting outside Turkey, Erdoğan won with 59.4%, İnce with 25.8%.  There are striking differences by country, though.  In western Europe, Erdoğan is very popular; elsewhere, not so much.  To take one example, in Germany, Erdoğan scored 64.8%, İnce 21.9%.  Turkish voters in Austria, Belgium, France, and the Netherlands  favored the president in similarly high numbers.  In contrast, Turks in the US (far fewer than in western Europe) voted 69.3% for İnce, 17.3% for Erdoğan.  This reflects social differences among the Turkish populations abroad – as indeed do the differences within Turkey itself. 

        The national participation rate was 86.2%.  People take voting very, very seriously.  In the US, so proud of its democracy, voter turnout in the 2016 presidential election was somewhere in the range of 55-60%.  Admirable for Turkey, pretty pathetic for America.