Rome, April 29, 2024
Both of us woke up in the middle of the night and had trouble falling asleep again; Sue woke with a start and realized that it was after the time we had agreed to meet the B’s for breakfast.
Once on our feet, we settled in at a cafe around the corner for excellent fresh cornetti and cappuccino. Connie’s Italian charms the locals, and we were soon in deep conversation with our waiter, who admitted to a feeling of loneliness: too many rude customers, too few who interact as if he’s human. There is another side to the staff at tourist locales!
We started the day with a double dose of Caravaggio. First the three St. Matthew panels in San Luigi del Francesi.
The church itself was built between 1518 and 1521 after a design by Giacomo della Porto.
The Carravagios are found in the Contarelli Chapel; they were created in 1599-1600. The cycle begins with the Calling of St. Matthew.
St. Matthew and the Angel
The Martyrdom of St. Matthew
Even on repeated viewing, these remain astonishingly moving; some of the great works in Western art.
Then we dreamed we saw Saint Augustine, alive as you or me…or at least we saw the Basilica of Sant’ Agostino. Dedicated to Augustine himself, it is the motherhouse of the Augustinian order. The church, with its Renaissance facade, was completed in 1483.
The church houses a lot of wonderful art, but two things stand out: Caravaggio’s Madonna de Loreto and a small pillar fresco by Raphael of the prophet Isaiah.
The Caravaggio shows a peasant madonna with dirty feet, a scandal in the day. But she is shown in a ravishing light; no wonder she has two worshippers.
The Raphael is mostly interesting for its obvious leaning on Michelangelo: all muscles and pent up force. Nothing limpid about this prophet.
Two churches were enough for one morning for a certain Croatian, and he headed for the hotel for some R&R. The intrepid three forged ahead, passing first by Richard Meier’s museum housing the reconstructed Roman temple called ara pacis.
The building has been controversial: the Roman right wing resents its replacement of a fascist predecessor of 1938, while others find it an intrusion in one of the oldest quarters of Rome.
Across the street is a long-term project that hopes to do something with the remains of the mausoleum of the Emperor Augustus.
We found a shady table in the Piazza del Popolo while we waited for Vladimir; it wasn’t a scorching hot day, but it was warm, and a cool glass of water was restorative.
Here, far from the more famous sites, the crowds were manageable. The huge space of the Piazza del Popolo (Popolo is usually thought of as “people;” it originally referred to poplar trees growing nearby) felt almost empty. Its current shape dates from 1822, the work of the architect Giuseppe Valadier.
The obelisk at its center was carved during the reign of Rameses II; it was brought to Rome in 10 BC by order of Augustus. Fun fact: there are 13 Egyptian obelisks in Rome. And 5 in Egypt.
The piazza is closed off to the south by the twin Santa Marias: dei Miracoli (1681) on the right and di Montesante (1679) on the left.They were completed by Bernini and Carlo Fontana after designs by Carlo Rainaldi.
Our Caravaggio trifecta was ruined, though: Santa Maria del Popolo was closed for restoration, so no Conversion of Saint Paul or Crucifixion of Saint Peter for us. Here they are for you, though, however virtually.
We then ascended a series steps up the Pincian hill. The top of the hill holds a series of gardens: the gardens of the Villa Borghese to the north and those of the Villa Medici to the south, as well as those of the Pincio itself. They were laid out by Giuseppe Valadier in 1809-1914. A belvedere overlooking the Piazza del Popolo offers expansive views across the river to St. Peters and south to the Renaissance buildings of the Campo Marzio.
The Blue Guide fails to mention the tennis court, so I’m afraid I can’t help you there.
It was a beautiful, sunny day in Rome.
We strolled through the gardens, surrounded by busts of famous Italians (some of them apparently famous only in Italy) and then along the edge of the hill to the Villa Medici and on to Santissima Trinità dei Monti (1585) at the top of the Spanish Steps. Given what we’d seen outside the Pantheon, we weren’t sure we’d be able to force our way down the steps. Perhaps because of the unseasonable heat, though, the crowds were moderate.
The steps themselves were built in the early 18th century, linking the church above with the Piazza di Spagna below. At their foot is the Fontana della Barcaccia (1627-29), attributed to Pietro Bernini, the father of Gian Lorenzo Bernini.
We made our way home through the thicket of luxury boutiques clustered at the foot of the piazza.
After our obligatory siesta, we headed southeast; first stop was the Gesú, the mother church of the Jesuit order.
Your view of the church no doubt depends on. your background. It is the supreme product of the counterreformation, a reaction to the protestant stripping away of ornament and riches. So, for us, it is hideously overdone.
And this is the tomb of old Ignatius himself.
From here it was a brief jaunt to the foot of the Campidoglio, the Capitoline Hill. Vladimir took a break in a park at the foot of the Wedding Cake / Vittorio Emmanuelle Monument while we ascended the Cordonata, Michelangelo’s magnificent stairway leading to the plaza at the top of the hill.
In the picture below, the steep steps on the left lead up to Santa Maria in Aracoeli (altar of the heavens); those on the right to the Piazza di Campidoglio.
At the top of the stairway is a simple balustrade designed by Michelangelo; the statues of the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux, are much restored late Roman works and added later. Behind our own twin heroes is a modern copy of a Roman bronze: Marcus Aurelius on horseback, and behind that the Palazzo Senatorio, the seat of the mayor of Rome. The original medieval building was given a new facade by Michelangelo, including the elegant dual stairway that leads to the entrance.
Behind the palazzo is a viewing platform that looks out over the Roman Forum and the Palatine Hill.
We had wanted to take back streets to the Campo de’ Fiore, but we didn’t make it that far. We found a bar with seating in an exceptionally pretty little piazza, and had our drinks there. Vladimir went straight home, but the three of us made a small detour to the Palazzo della Sapienza, once the University of Rome. Borromini was commissioned to construct a chapel, and the result is Sant’ Ivo della Sapienza, often said to be Borromini’s masterpiece. It is open only three hours per week, but at least we saw the facade and rather remarkable steeple.
I had looked forward to dinner at Matricianella, long one of our favorite restaurants. But the meal, while not bad, was a disappointment. Sue and I shared a fritto misto, which was excellent. But the pastas were ordinary, and the main courses (lamb chops for Sue, grilled sweetbreads for me) were good but not more. The service, which had been getting progressively more negative reviews, was indeed brusque and barely friendly. At least we drank well; A 2017 Contrada P, from one of the best Etna produces, Vini Franchetti.