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.
