Well, it certainly has been a wonderful two weeks in beautiful Roma. We did so much and saw so many things; I think I'm going to need a real vacation after this due to exhaustion. But it was so completely worth it. I found myself beginning to establish a routine in Italy; I began to imagine myself living there. Wake up, get ready, stroll across the street for a cornetto and a cappuccino per portare via ... oh yes, I could definitely get used to this lifestyle.
I think this course has been an eye-opening experience overall, both on campus and off. I had never taken any sort of classics course before, so this definitely opened my eyes to the whole wealth of knowledge that could be available to me about the ancient world. While the on-campus section of the course may not have exactly been my cup of tea, I was definitely able to take away some knowledge from it that allowed my Rome experience to be even richer than it would have been. I've traveled to Rome a handful of times before but was never able to see it through the lens through which I saw it this time. The last time I went to Rome, if I had gotten to visit the necropolis under the Vatican I would probably have thought of it as some creepy, musky tomb and would be wondering when the tour would be over within the first 15 minutes. Because of Reading Rome, I found the tour of the necropolis to be one of the most enthralling things I got to do in Rome. Knowing about the different layers of the Basilica and then actually getting to experience them in person was so mind-blowing. I thought, this is one of the moments that everyone told me I would have in Rome; when I realize that all of the work I did on campus was totally worth it.
I think another one of my favorite places we visited in Rome was the Basilica of Santa Sabina and the Aventine Hill. In the 4th century Basilica I experienced another one of those spiritual moments I talked about in my previous posts; where I felt like if I were going to kneel down and pray anywhere, it would be right there in that church. The fact that I was standing in a place that was built in the 4th century and that much of the original materials actually remained was so amazing. It's one thing to read about a place that was built so long ago, but to actually stand there in the basilica and feel the history in the room... it's one of those things that you simply have to experience yourself in order to understand the feeling of it. The visit to the Basilica was then followed by an absolutely perfect afternoon at the park on the Aventine. Our time there could have lasted twenty minutes or an hour and a half, honestly I was so lost in time at that park I can't even tell you how long we were there. It was a truly beautiful day.
I will certainly miss the European lifestyle when I get home. Everything is much slower here and people seem to really know how to enjoy life. This is why I knew I needed to come back here after I came home from studying abroad. Adjusting back to life at Skidmore was actually really rough, and I never expected that to happen. I love Skidmore and consider it to be home, sometimes more so than my actual home. But after establishing a home in Alcalá de Henares, Spain, pueblo de mi corazón, it was even hard to come back to Skidmore. There is just something about the European lifestyle, something that I can't quite put my finger on, or perhaps it's a combination of factors, that makes me never want to leave. I could absolutely lose myself in those two weeks we spent in Roma and never come back. I already miss my daily trips to the gelateria, the meals we spent together as a group and all the laughs we had... mamma mia, I even miss our touristy flock completely clogging the entrance of the metro and angering all the Italians. I will be nostalgic for the bus rides, the cool voice on the metro saying "uscita al lato destro," the nice man with the ponytail and kind smile that works at Vero, joking around with my favorite St. John's security man... I really feel as though I had begun to establish my little routine in Rome and then, in a flash, it was over - just as I knew it would be. However, I do have complete faith that one day I will return to Rome, and when I do I will have to visit all of the familiar sites. Well, maybe not all of them; I don't think any future visit to Rome could ever be as much of a whirlwind as ours was, but I will certainly get another good sweep of the city in there. A più tardi, Roma!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Thursday, June 9, 2011
To say that I didn't know what to expect to see in the Palazzo Barberini would be an understatement. The day we visited the Palazzo I found myself being swept in with the group and, like a benign sheep, I allowed myself to be corralled to the museum even though I didn't know what it was. I only knew it was required. I think at some point during the walk I said to someone "what is the Palazzo Barberini?" to which I did not receive a clear response, so I resigned to let the adventure happen and kept myself open to surprises.
Just like many of my other excursions on this trip, the Palazzo Barberini turned out to be a very pleasant surprise indeed. As I walked through the first floor of the museum, I noticed that a lot of paintings seemed to have a lot of gold in them and the characters' faces had a certain look to them, a look which seemed very familiar to me. The word "Byzantine" popped into my head - yes, I think these paintings are very Byzantine. I looked around for some evidence to confirm my suspicions and see an informational placard on the wall. I scanned it for the word "Byzantine" and lo and behold, there it was! Apparently I did pick something up from the countless tours of museums I've experienced in my life - and I thought I wasn't really listening! But in all seriousness, it was truly a great moment when I made that connection. I felt very proud of myself and very learned.
As I continued to walk through the first floor of the museum I noticed that most of the paintings were religious. Almost every single one of them was of some sort of religious scene or figure, and each figure seemed to have the same indifferently pious look on their face. While I have noted before that I do love gold, I realized in the Palazzo Barberini that Byzantine art is not really my cup of tea. It just didn't seem to draw me in quite as much as some of the other art we had seen.
Upon completely all the rooms on the first floor, I was totally ready to leave the museum and get a sandwich. This plan seemed perfect in my mind until someone informed me that there was an entire second floor of the museum. How I didn't realize that the museum had another level, I have no idea. I'm still not sure why it didn't dawn on me that most museums have more than one floor, but I'm glad I realized at some point. The second floor proved to be much more fulfilling than the first. I only wished I hadn't tired myself out spending so much time on what I believed to be the only floor.
I had a moment on the second floor where I was looking at a Caravaggio painting and was suddenly struck with an overwhelming sense of historical presence in the room. All of a sudden I became very conscious of the fact that Caravaggio himself had painted the art that was right in front of me. Caravaggio made every brush stroke on the painting that I am now standing four feet away from. It was one of those mind-blowing existential moments when time seems to be put in a different perspective. I think the museum visit was worth it even if just for that one exciting moment.
Just like many of my other excursions on this trip, the Palazzo Barberini turned out to be a very pleasant surprise indeed. As I walked through the first floor of the museum, I noticed that a lot of paintings seemed to have a lot of gold in them and the characters' faces had a certain look to them, a look which seemed very familiar to me. The word "Byzantine" popped into my head - yes, I think these paintings are very Byzantine. I looked around for some evidence to confirm my suspicions and see an informational placard on the wall. I scanned it for the word "Byzantine" and lo and behold, there it was! Apparently I did pick something up from the countless tours of museums I've experienced in my life - and I thought I wasn't really listening! But in all seriousness, it was truly a great moment when I made that connection. I felt very proud of myself and very learned.
As I continued to walk through the first floor of the museum I noticed that most of the paintings were religious. Almost every single one of them was of some sort of religious scene or figure, and each figure seemed to have the same indifferently pious look on their face. While I have noted before that I do love gold, I realized in the Palazzo Barberini that Byzantine art is not really my cup of tea. It just didn't seem to draw me in quite as much as some of the other art we had seen.
Upon completely all the rooms on the first floor, I was totally ready to leave the museum and get a sandwich. This plan seemed perfect in my mind until someone informed me that there was an entire second floor of the museum. How I didn't realize that the museum had another level, I have no idea. I'm still not sure why it didn't dawn on me that most museums have more than one floor, but I'm glad I realized at some point. The second floor proved to be much more fulfilling than the first. I only wished I hadn't tired myself out spending so much time on what I believed to be the only floor.
I had a moment on the second floor where I was looking at a Caravaggio painting and was suddenly struck with an overwhelming sense of historical presence in the room. All of a sudden I became very conscious of the fact that Caravaggio himself had painted the art that was right in front of me. Caravaggio made every brush stroke on the painting that I am now standing four feet away from. It was one of those mind-blowing existential moments when time seems to be put in a different perspective. I think the museum visit was worth it even if just for that one exciting moment.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
La Basilica di Santa Maria in Aracoeli
After my wondrous visit to the Chiesa del Gesù, Gia asked me if I would also like to go visit the Basilica di Santa Maria in Aracoeli. I think on any other day during the trip I probably would have said no and headed home to relax for a bit instead, but after falling completely in love with the Chiesa del Gesù, I thought why not? Another church? Bring it on.
So we set off to visit Santa Maria in Aracoeli. Little did I know it was actually as close as Gia claimed it was; we only walked a few blocks before we found ourselves at the Campidoglio. I think if I had paid attention earlier in the week I may have known that Santa Maria in Aracoeli is the church on top of all of those stairs at the Campidoglio, but nonetheless it was a fun surprise. Again, on any other day I may not have made it, but due to the rush we had gotten from the Chiesa del Gesù, the 100-something stairs we were about to climb didn´t seem like too much of a problem. We heard the Rocky song playing in our heads as we fought our way up the mountain - perche sempre troppe scale in questo paese? When we reached the top, we paused to recover our breath for a bit, made sure everybody´s shoulders were covered, and then entered the church.
I always find it amazing what strikes me when I first walk into a church. I know the Pope wouldn´t be too happy about this comment, but when I walked in I was instantly reminded of the Great Hall from Harry Potter (because Harry Potter is usually where my mind goes first). The church was filled with numerous crystal chandeliers that gave it a, for lack of a better word, magical look. But the most exciting thing that called my attention was a choir that was rehearsing at the back of the church. There´s something about the acoustics in churches that makes everything sound that much more beautiful, and this choir seriously made the moment for me. I once again felt incredibly spiritual being in the church; this time I actually brought myself to light a candle and say a prayer. I can´t even remember the last time I did that. I thought of my mother and how happy it would make her that I was doing it, so I decided I would light the candle in her honor.
I continued to walk around the church for a while, looking at all the beautiful artwork and enjoying the full, sweet sounds of the choir. Gia found me and let me know that there was another room I needed to see. She brought me into the room containing the statue of the infant that people from all over the world write letters to, saying prayers and asking the infant for help. I cautiously entered the room and saw the shrine with the baby surrounded by baskets filled with letters. All of a sudden I was overcome with emotion. Without turning around and revealing my emotional state, I heard Gia exit and continued to stare in awe at the shrine. I don´t know what exactly got me, but there was something about all of those letters that was hopeful and yet devastating at the same time. I was completely overwhelmed by the moment, feeling as though the story of each and every person that had written one of those letters was present in the room. All of their individual hopes and sorrows filled the space so densely that I felt as though I had to fight my way through all of them in order to get out.
Between the two most beautiful churches in all of Rome, it was certainly an unforgettable day. I never expected the day to turn out to be so spiritual and emotional, and I loved every second of it.
So we set off to visit Santa Maria in Aracoeli. Little did I know it was actually as close as Gia claimed it was; we only walked a few blocks before we found ourselves at the Campidoglio. I think if I had paid attention earlier in the week I may have known that Santa Maria in Aracoeli is the church on top of all of those stairs at the Campidoglio, but nonetheless it was a fun surprise. Again, on any other day I may not have made it, but due to the rush we had gotten from the Chiesa del Gesù, the 100-something stairs we were about to climb didn´t seem like too much of a problem. We heard the Rocky song playing in our heads as we fought our way up the mountain - perche sempre troppe scale in questo paese? When we reached the top, we paused to recover our breath for a bit, made sure everybody´s shoulders were covered, and then entered the church.
I always find it amazing what strikes me when I first walk into a church. I know the Pope wouldn´t be too happy about this comment, but when I walked in I was instantly reminded of the Great Hall from Harry Potter (because Harry Potter is usually where my mind goes first). The church was filled with numerous crystal chandeliers that gave it a, for lack of a better word, magical look. But the most exciting thing that called my attention was a choir that was rehearsing at the back of the church. There´s something about the acoustics in churches that makes everything sound that much more beautiful, and this choir seriously made the moment for me. I once again felt incredibly spiritual being in the church; this time I actually brought myself to light a candle and say a prayer. I can´t even remember the last time I did that. I thought of my mother and how happy it would make her that I was doing it, so I decided I would light the candle in her honor.
I continued to walk around the church for a while, looking at all the beautiful artwork and enjoying the full, sweet sounds of the choir. Gia found me and let me know that there was another room I needed to see. She brought me into the room containing the statue of the infant that people from all over the world write letters to, saying prayers and asking the infant for help. I cautiously entered the room and saw the shrine with the baby surrounded by baskets filled with letters. All of a sudden I was overcome with emotion. Without turning around and revealing my emotional state, I heard Gia exit and continued to stare in awe at the shrine. I don´t know what exactly got me, but there was something about all of those letters that was hopeful and yet devastating at the same time. I was completely overwhelmed by the moment, feeling as though the story of each and every person that had written one of those letters was present in the room. All of their individual hopes and sorrows filled the space so densely that I felt as though I had to fight my way through all of them in order to get out.
Between the two most beautiful churches in all of Rome, it was certainly an unforgettable day. I never expected the day to turn out to be so spiritual and emotional, and I loved every second of it.
Un momento spirituale nellla Chiesa del Gesù
In recent years, moments when I have a truly spiritual experience in a religious sense are extremely rare. After growing up in an extremely Catholic household and having a certain falling out with the Catholic church, I now basically ignore religion constantly and haven´t said a formal prayer in years. But when I entered the Chiesa del Gesù, the place´s beauty struck me so strongly that I actually wanted to get down on my knees and pray, and that is not something that ever happens to me.
I set out for the church late in the afternoon after another long day, Gia once again serving as my motivation. To be quite honest, I thought of seeing the church as a chore that I knew I simply had to get done and didn´t really have much interest in going. But when I entered the church, I felt infinitely glad that I hadn´t decided to nap instead. First of all, the church was extremely gold, and to put it simply, I love gold. The view of the entire church when you first walk in is absolutely incredible; its detail is incomparable to any other church I had seen thus far in Rome.
Upon starting my exploration, I had a fun coincidental moment almost immediately. I was standing facing one direction, admiring a small interpretation of the Pietì, and when I turned around to continue walking I had to pause because for a split second I thought I was looking into a mirror. The moment passed, I realized that there was, of course, no mirror, and I then commenced thinking about how I had never before seen a mirror in a church in my entire life. I contemplated whether there was some rule about mirrors in churches; maybe they aren´t allowed because they encourage narcissism or something. It made sense to me. After that train of thought ended, I continued on to see more of the church. Passing through the center, right by the entrance, I stumbled upon none other than - you guessed it - a full length mirror. I had literally just been thinking about how I had never seen a mirror in a church in my life, and then one appears right in front of my eyes. How I missed it when I first walked into the church, I have no idea, but there it was: a large mirror right in the middle of the church, postitioned at such an angle so that I could use it to look at the intricate ceiling without straining my neck. Which allows me to move on to...
The ceiling. This ceiling was the most incredible thing I have ever seen. I was so completely awestruck by all of its different layers. It was painted in beautiful colors with ethereal scenes, and in addition to the paintings there were actual statues of angels and other celestial characters hanging from the ceiling. The paintings seemed to be spilling out of their contained spaces and mingling with the statues amidst all of the ornate gold. The combination of the different materials struck me as absolutely mind-blowing. I was grateful there was a mirror there because if I had stayed with my eyes glued directly to the ceiling for as long as I wanted to, I would have had to pay a visit to an Italian chiropractor.
After I was finally able to tear myself away from the ceiling mirror, I continued on through the church to gaze at a giant silver statue which I later found out was of Saint Ignatius. This was possibly the most ornate statue I had ever seen. It looked like it was made completely out of silver and gold, which was extremely impressive considering its size. As I was staring it at it, all of a sudden the lights that had been illuminating it shut off. I had seen this happen in churches before, so I thought nothing of it, but then something a little less expected happened: a giant painting slowly began to rise up from the bottom of the statue and cover it up. I put some euro coins in the slot so that the painting would begin to move back down the other way and I could gaze longer at the giant silvery statue, but nothing happened. I felt like I was in some sort of spy movie where a secret passage could be revealed at any moment. Once the painting was securely in place hiding the statue, I realized that anyone who walked into the church now would have no idea that such a beautiful surprise was hidden behind the ordinary painting. I wanted to run around telling people but decided that would probably be an odd thing to do, so I resolved to let the statue´s existence be my little secret.
My visit to the Chiesa del Gesù was a wonderful surprise. I enjoyed it infinitely more than I ever could have imagined I would and was so glad I decided to go. It really opened my eyes to the fact that I could actually go to a church on my own and thoroughly enjoy it. I honestly think from now on I may make a habit of wandering into more churches just for fun.
I set out for the church late in the afternoon after another long day, Gia once again serving as my motivation. To be quite honest, I thought of seeing the church as a chore that I knew I simply had to get done and didn´t really have much interest in going. But when I entered the church, I felt infinitely glad that I hadn´t decided to nap instead. First of all, the church was extremely gold, and to put it simply, I love gold. The view of the entire church when you first walk in is absolutely incredible; its detail is incomparable to any other church I had seen thus far in Rome.
Upon starting my exploration, I had a fun coincidental moment almost immediately. I was standing facing one direction, admiring a small interpretation of the Pietì, and when I turned around to continue walking I had to pause because for a split second I thought I was looking into a mirror. The moment passed, I realized that there was, of course, no mirror, and I then commenced thinking about how I had never before seen a mirror in a church in my entire life. I contemplated whether there was some rule about mirrors in churches; maybe they aren´t allowed because they encourage narcissism or something. It made sense to me. After that train of thought ended, I continued on to see more of the church. Passing through the center, right by the entrance, I stumbled upon none other than - you guessed it - a full length mirror. I had literally just been thinking about how I had never seen a mirror in a church in my life, and then one appears right in front of my eyes. How I missed it when I first walked into the church, I have no idea, but there it was: a large mirror right in the middle of the church, postitioned at such an angle so that I could use it to look at the intricate ceiling without straining my neck. Which allows me to move on to...
The ceiling. This ceiling was the most incredible thing I have ever seen. I was so completely awestruck by all of its different layers. It was painted in beautiful colors with ethereal scenes, and in addition to the paintings there were actual statues of angels and other celestial characters hanging from the ceiling. The paintings seemed to be spilling out of their contained spaces and mingling with the statues amidst all of the ornate gold. The combination of the different materials struck me as absolutely mind-blowing. I was grateful there was a mirror there because if I had stayed with my eyes glued directly to the ceiling for as long as I wanted to, I would have had to pay a visit to an Italian chiropractor.
After I was finally able to tear myself away from the ceiling mirror, I continued on through the church to gaze at a giant silver statue which I later found out was of Saint Ignatius. This was possibly the most ornate statue I had ever seen. It looked like it was made completely out of silver and gold, which was extremely impressive considering its size. As I was staring it at it, all of a sudden the lights that had been illuminating it shut off. I had seen this happen in churches before, so I thought nothing of it, but then something a little less expected happened: a giant painting slowly began to rise up from the bottom of the statue and cover it up. I put some euro coins in the slot so that the painting would begin to move back down the other way and I could gaze longer at the giant silvery statue, but nothing happened. I felt like I was in some sort of spy movie where a secret passage could be revealed at any moment. Once the painting was securely in place hiding the statue, I realized that anyone who walked into the church now would have no idea that such a beautiful surprise was hidden behind the ordinary painting. I wanted to run around telling people but decided that would probably be an odd thing to do, so I resolved to let the statue´s existence be my little secret.
My visit to the Chiesa del Gesù was a wonderful surprise. I enjoyed it infinitely more than I ever could have imagined I would and was so glad I decided to go. It really opened my eyes to the fact that I could actually go to a church on my own and thoroughly enjoy it. I honestly think from now on I may make a habit of wandering into more churches just for fun.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Il Campo de' Fiori: Piena di vita
The Campo de' Fiori has become one of our familiar hot spots here in Rome. Somehow we've found ourselves hanging around the Campo on multiple occasions during this trip. It definitely seems to be becoming one of those places that we will be especially nostalgic for when we leave; after a handful of visits we have begun to develop a true sense of ownership of the place.
The first time we experienced the Campo de' Fiori was during the daytime when the entire square was filled with an open-air market. Vendors set up their kiosks and sell all sorts of Italian products such as olive oil, pasta, and lots of different spices. The market is bustling with people browsing the kiosks and vendors shouting in broken English ¨Hello! Very good price!¨ The first time I went to the market I had the most delicious cup of assorted fruits which I bought from a particulary friendly vendor. I'm not usually a person who craves fruit or eats very much of it at all, but this fruit cup was the most refreshing and wonderful thing I could have dreamed of in that moment. I would classify it as something to write home about. After a long morning filled with walking in the heat, the Campo de´ Fiori was a perfect respite; I had a lovely time strolling through the market and browsing through the various colorful food items while enjoying a cold refreshing cup of frutta.
My second visit to the Campo de' Fiori was at night, when the place completely transforms. It was hard to believe we were even in the same place as we were during the day. It was a Sunday night, so I wasn't expecting to see very many people out and about, but to my surprise the Camp was bustling with life. The piazza appeared much bigger with all the kiosks cleared out and the area seemed very much alive. The lights from the bars surrounding the square and the sounds of merriment abounding gave the area such an exciting aura. That night we had been walking for quite a while, lost of course, and thus were anxious to sit down as soon as possible and have some drinks. We sat down at a bar directly in the center of the square called Sloppy Sam's ("Classy in the front, Sloppy in the back") - Excellent. Sounds great.
After ordering a bottle of wine, the stress of our hour of unintentional wandering melted away. Even though it was late and we were already tired before we even got there, we still stayed for a while and enjoyed ourselves and each other´s company in true Italian fashion. While we laughed and drank and watched all the people stroll through the piazza, I felt as though we were experiencing a genuinely Italian moment. As I´ve discovered, taking a pause out of the stress of the day and sitting down to enjoy the company of friends is much more important here in Italia. Life in New York is often so fast paced that we often don´t fully appreciate the time we spend with our friends, or we´re on the phone texting the entire time. Here it´s different; if you sit down to have a drink with friends, chances are you won´t get back up for quite a while. The thought crossed my mind: maybe if we just attach ourselves to this table and refuse to get up, we´ll never have to leave?
The first time we experienced the Campo de' Fiori was during the daytime when the entire square was filled with an open-air market. Vendors set up their kiosks and sell all sorts of Italian products such as olive oil, pasta, and lots of different spices. The market is bustling with people browsing the kiosks and vendors shouting in broken English ¨Hello! Very good price!¨ The first time I went to the market I had the most delicious cup of assorted fruits which I bought from a particulary friendly vendor. I'm not usually a person who craves fruit or eats very much of it at all, but this fruit cup was the most refreshing and wonderful thing I could have dreamed of in that moment. I would classify it as something to write home about. After a long morning filled with walking in the heat, the Campo de´ Fiori was a perfect respite; I had a lovely time strolling through the market and browsing through the various colorful food items while enjoying a cold refreshing cup of frutta.
My second visit to the Campo de' Fiori was at night, when the place completely transforms. It was hard to believe we were even in the same place as we were during the day. It was a Sunday night, so I wasn't expecting to see very many people out and about, but to my surprise the Camp was bustling with life. The piazza appeared much bigger with all the kiosks cleared out and the area seemed very much alive. The lights from the bars surrounding the square and the sounds of merriment abounding gave the area such an exciting aura. That night we had been walking for quite a while, lost of course, and thus were anxious to sit down as soon as possible and have some drinks. We sat down at a bar directly in the center of the square called Sloppy Sam's ("Classy in the front, Sloppy in the back") - Excellent. Sounds great.
After ordering a bottle of wine, the stress of our hour of unintentional wandering melted away. Even though it was late and we were already tired before we even got there, we still stayed for a while and enjoyed ourselves and each other´s company in true Italian fashion. While we laughed and drank and watched all the people stroll through the piazza, I felt as though we were experiencing a genuinely Italian moment. As I´ve discovered, taking a pause out of the stress of the day and sitting down to enjoy the company of friends is much more important here in Italia. Life in New York is often so fast paced that we often don´t fully appreciate the time we spend with our friends, or we´re on the phone texting the entire time. Here it´s different; if you sit down to have a drink with friends, chances are you won´t get back up for quite a while. The thought crossed my mind: maybe if we just attach ourselves to this table and refuse to get up, we´ll never have to leave?
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Momentary blindness
I lie on a cold stone bench with my knees in the air and allow my eyes to flicker shut. This is exactly the respite my body has so desperately needed. At this time in the late afternoon the sun does not beat my face but lightly kisses it, slowly lulling me to sleep. My lips form a tired smile as the air carries the scent of citrus right under my nose. In this sleepy state all the sounds of the park begin to blend together; voices speaking indistinct Italian in the distance, a car accelerating and whizzing by on the road below, a baby carriage being rolled closer and closer and then passing, the sound of its wheels against the rocks getting softer as it moves farther away. A cool breeze rolls over my body, breaking up the sun’s warm rays, and as it glides over me I hear it shake the leaves in the nearby trees. The combination of the cacophony of bird sounds and my own hair tickling my neck as the breeze keeps on rolling by is doing nothing to help my lethargic state. It’s decided: if the group leaves without me I may just stay in this garden forever, perpetually letting my lungs fill with the cool Italian summer air.
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
The absolute worst human statue in the history of Rome
As my eyes scan the Piazza Navona, they happen upon something they simply cannot look away from. Sticking out like a sore thumb in front of the beautiful and timeless Fontana del Moro is a tall moving statue, sunlight reflecting off of its silver robe in an offensive manner, making me feel quite grateful to be wearing sunglasses. As a breeze blows in the direction of the impostor, the wind presses against him and reveals that he seems to be standing on a box to create the illusion of height. The sharp corners of the box peek through his impossibly shiny costume and ruin the appearance of the ¨statue.¨ Every few seconds he lifts his gleaming right arm and gives three sharp mechanical waves to someone across the piazza, beckoning them to come take a photo with him. When someone gets close enough he offers his hand and sometimes gets lucky enough to rope the unsuspecting lady or gent into taking a photo with him. These people are often the touristy ones; accessorized with a sun hat, bulky camera and sometimes even a fanny pack. A woman about half the size of the statue pauses awkwardly while her husband snaps a photo. Tsk tsk, oh to be a naive traveler! Apparently this couple has not experienced Italy enough to know that this particular street performer is not exactly photo-worthy. The statue man, shining brighter than the tin can he has placed out in front of him, gets bored of one side of the piazza and twists his torso around to look for more victims. While his back is to me, his left hand gives a twitch while his right hand absentmindedly moves up and down his tummy. Is he not aware that I can still see him? This guy is insulting the Fontana del Moro by standing in front of it. Maybe instead of aggressively waving to passers by he should focus his gaze straight ahead to the fantastic Bernini fountain in the center of the piazza and take a few lessons in stillness from the figures carved in its magnificent stone. I’d bet a whole tin can full of euros that people would be much more drawn to him if he would only stay still!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)