Tuesday, April 2, 2024: Religious Rome
Tuesday's itinerary called for a tour of "Religious Rome", a differentiation from the previous day's tour of "Ancient Rome", or as the early popes would have called it, "Pagan Rome". In practice, this meant a visit to the country with the highest crime rate in the world: The Vatican City State. This microstate, ruled by the Pope, is the smallest country in the world in terms of both area and population. It is also a country visited by more tourists than any other. Thus, the common petty crimes that occur in all tourist destinations skew the statistics enough to endow the Vatican with such an outlandish crime rate. Coincidentally, we had our single experience with a grifter that very day, though in all fairness it took place immediately outside the Vatican's borders.
Created by the 1929 Lateran Treaty between the Holy See and a Mussolini-led Italy, the Vatican is an independent nation wholly encompassed within the city of Rome. Vatican City rises from seedy origins, constructed over a portion of Rome once home to the Circus of Nero where chariots raced around an elliptical track featuring a stolen Egyptian obelisk as its centerpiece. It was also the place where St. Peter was martyred and the execution site of numerous Christians in the year 65 CE who were scapegoated for the infamous fire of 64 that burned much of Rome. As the Vatican evolved, the altar of St. Peter's Basilica was sited over the tomb of St. Peter. Centuries later, the Vatican is one of the most recognizable places on Earth and an ostentatious display of the Catholic Church's wealth.
We began our tour with the Vatican Museums. It was the first day after Easter that the Vatican Museums were accessible again and lengthy lines gave tribute to pent up demand for entry. The HYSO group was divided among various guides who escorted us into the Vatican. Our guide wryly noted that we were fortunate to be in a group. Tour groups had their own entrance and the lines for everyone else were even longer. Due to a ticketing error, our group had to be split in two. This caused some consternation, but my half of the group had little choice but to enter without our guide. It turned out to be a nonissue and we actually made it through security before the guided half of our group.
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| The imposing wall separating the Vatican from Rome. |
Papal Plunder
For me, any mention of the Vatican conjures images of the distinctive St. Peter's Square and the largest church in the world, St. Peter's Basilica. I was previously unaware that the Vatican Museums existed. As it turns out, many Popes over the years had an eye for art and antiquities; about 70,000 individual works are held by the Vatican with only 20,000 pieces on display at any given time. Despite being housed in lavishly elegant facilities, the place is overstuffed with artifacts and feels a bit like an ecclesiastical episode of "Hoarders". The Museums have been in the news in recent years as indigenous people around the world have lobbied for return of their plundered artifacts, though the Vatican is hardly unique in this regard.
(For example, on my first visit to the British Museum, I saw the Rosetta Stone. My thoughts, in order, were: (1) Wow, the Rosetta Stone! (2) I had no idea that it was that big! (3) Why the hell is it in England?! To quote Spock from Star Trek IV, "They are not the hell your whales.")
In short order, we found ourselves in the Cortile della Pigna (Courtyard of the Pinecone).
Even from a distance, the Sfera con Sfera (Sphere within a Sphere) sculpture by Arnoldo Pomodoro was striking. I resolved to get a closer look when I got the chance. Tour fail: I never got the chance.
The courtyard is aptly named because it is home to a four meter tall bronze pinecone. Built as a fountain, this second century Roman sculpture in believed to have stood near the Pantheon until the Middle Ages when it was moved to Old St. Peter's Basilica. It was relocated to its current location in 1608.
Our run through the Vatican Museums was literally that -- a quick run through a bewildering menagerie of works collected from around the world and sequestered within. Our tour guide gamely pointed out key points of interest, but there was no opportunity to linger anywhere.
Owing to her deep appreciation for art, The Bear often imitated works we encountered because imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. (Note the gaping sculpture high on the pillar behind her.)
Prominently featured in the Octagonal Gallery created by Pope Julius II is the anguished marble visage of Laocoon. Lost for centuries, this magnificently evocative sculpture was unearthed from a Roman vineyard in 1506. The sculpture depicts Laocoon, a Trojan priest who saw through the Trojan Horse ruse and warned his fellow Trojans, "I fear Greeks, even those bearing gifts." Because the gods of Olympus sided with the Greeks, Poseidon sent sea serpents to silence Laocoon and his sons. As described by Virgil in the Aeneid, "His fillets soaked with saliva and black venom, at the same time he lifted to heaven horrendous cries." Not a good day for Laocoon.
Recognized as a long lost masterwork earlier described by Pliny the Elder (who lived during the first century CE), a bidding war ensued over the rediscovered sculpture. Pope Julius II won (because: Pope) and brought the sculpture to the Vatican. At the time, Laocoon's right arm was missing and the great artists of the era debated over how it would have looked. Some believed that his arm would have been extended outward in a heroic pose, while Michelangelo believed that it was more likely bent backward. Michelangelo was ultimately vindicated in 1906 when archeologist Ludwig Pollak excavated the missing arm near where the statue was originally found 400 years earlier. Due to Michelangelo's keen insight, some contemporary historians have hypothesized that the statue and its rediscovery in 1506 was a brilliant fake executed by Michelangelo himself.
From there, we proceeded from gallery to bewildering gallery, each one more extravagant than the last, all of them packed with sculptures, paintings, frescoes, and tapestries, many taken from other places around the world.
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| Mosaic tile floor. Photo by Dena. |
In one instance, we saw an elaborate mosaic tile floor that was moved to the Vatican and painstakingly reassembled ceramic pixel by ceramic pixel.
"Liberated" from the Roman Imperial mausoleum at Tor Pignatarra, a sarcophagus elegantly carved from red Egyptian porphyry (a type of igneous rock) is believed to have once housed the body of Constantine the Great's mother, Helena. As a reminder, Constantine was the Roman emperor to whom the triumphal arch next to the Colosseum was dedicated. The depiction of Roman soldiers prevailing over barbarians seems rather martial for a woman's coffin, leading some scholars to question whether it was actually carved for Constantine himself. We are unlikely to know for certain because it no longer contains a body.
Near the end of our tour, we passed through the 120 meter long Gallery of Maps, a corridor containing forty maps of regions within Italy commissioned by Pope Gregory XIII between 1580 and 1585. At least these maps were commissioned and not appropriated.
The Sistine Chapel and "Captain Underpants"
From the Gallery of Maps, we entered the famous Sistine Chapel.
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| Dome interior prior to entering the Sistine Chapel. |
In the art world, the Sistine Chapel is best known for its magnificent ceiling frescoes painted by Michelangelo depicting, among many other scenes, the Creation of Adam. Once within the chapel, there is no photography or talking (beyond uber sotto voce) permitted and the guards seem to fall below customs agents on the humor continuum. I was genuinely surprised by how relatively small the famed Creation of Adam was among the other beautifully rendered scenes. The ceiling is way up there and it is hard not to think sympathetically on the plight of an artist challenged with creating such imagery while prone on his back high atop a scaffold. Hopefully, Michelangelo did better with heights than I do.
Filling the altar wall of the chapel is another Michelangelo work, The Last Judgement. It depicts souls being judged by Christ and either ascending to heaven or descending to a fate of torment. Completed in 1641, the magnificent work was subject to mixed reviews because of it depicted extensive nudity in a sacred place. (To quote Paul Benedict's beleaguered hotel clerk from This is Spinal Tap, "I'm just as God made me, sir.") In particular, the pope's Master of Ceremonies Biagio da Cesena whined excessively about the nude figures "exposing themselves so shamefully". In the ultimate clapback, the 67 year old Michelangelo reworked the face of Minos (judge of the underworld sporting buffoonish donkey ears) in the fresco as Cesena's. Cesena complained bitterly about this insult to Pope Paul III, who put him off by saying that his responsibility did not extend to the underworld, so the likeness would have to stand. Mic drop.
But the prudish whining continued and a few years years later, painter Daniele da Volterra was commissioned to paint strategically placed draperies over everyone's naughty bits. This earned him the unofficial title of "Il Braghettone" or "the breeches maker".
The Biggest Church in the World: St. Peter's Basilica
Beyond the Sistine Chapel, we made our way downhill through a long corridor before spilling out into St. Peter's Square with the world's largest church standing before us. The area in front of the basilica was still set up for Easter Sunday services. To me, the architecture of the basilica is jaw droppingly elegant, but what really stuns is the size of the place. The basilica can accommodate 60,000 visitors. (Standing, so not necessarily comfortably.) Still, it's just so...tall. After seeing the ruins of the Basilica of Maxentius on the Roman Forum, it seemed obvious where the principal design cues for St. Peter's originated.
A 5.5 meter tall St. Paul glowers at those planning to enter St. Peter's Basilica.
The exterior vestibule is stunning, but does not compare to the inside.
So much gilding on such a vast amount of interior surface area. The interior of St. Peter's Basilica is far from humble; it is an overwhelming display of accumulated wealth.
Without the crowd in the pictures, it is difficult to contextualize the true volume of this place.
Behind the glass is the Pieta. When a 24 year old nobody (at least in Rome) named Michelangelo di Lodovico Buonarroti Simoni was commissioned to sculpt a pieta ("pity") depicting Mary grieving over the body of Jesus, there was great skepticism that he was up to the challenge. So much so that Michelangelo carved his name into the work, the only time he ever did such a thing. It is regarded as one of the world's greatest sculptures. The Pieta has been protected behind glass since unemployed Hungarian geologist Laszo Toth attacked the statue with a hammer in 1972. I would have captured a closer image, but had no interest in pushing through the crowd to get there.
St. Peter's Square
St. Peter's Square is such an iconic international destination that it is hard not to take in the scene without feeling like a character in a Bond film. (Or was that just me?)
Dominating the square is the same Egyptian obelisk that once stood at the center of the Circus of Nero, purloined from Egypt by Emperor Caligula in 37 CE. It is the tallest (25.5 m) of five coopted obelisks standing in Rome, making the city home to more standing obelisks than any other place in the world including Egypt. It is uninscribed, so the Pharaoh that commissioned it cannot be determined, but its trajectory from Egypt to Rome is well documented.
The forward sections of St. Peter's Basilica are so massive that some distance is required to actually see the dome.
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| A view of the colonnade that defines the square. |
In tribute to global refugees, this bronze sculpture is called Angels Unawares and depicts 140 migrants from a Jewish man fleeing Nazi Germany to a Syrian escaping civil war. Created by Canadian sculptor Timothy P. Schmalz, the piece was unveiled in 2019.
Grifted
In departing the Vatican, I was left with a mix of emotions; awe at the scope and grandeur of the architecture and distaste at the overwhelming show of hoarded wealth. Many months later, those unsettled feelings remain unresolved, suspended and swirling in my psyche like motes in a vortex. Though the Vatican is known as the country with the highest crime rate in the world, those statistics point to pickpocketing and purse snatching, not the acquisition of cultural artifacts from around the world. And yet, that is what I remember most.
We wandered a couple of blocks north of St. Peter's Square and found lunch at Caffe Moretto. We were welcomed inside by an enthusiastic English speaking waiter. His jokes were pandering, but he seemed friendly enough.
The beers that he set before Mark and I were nearly the size of The Bear! (I played my Peter Jackson card with this shot.)
But, here's the thing. The food was...mediocre. And when the check came, it was high. And then, the waiter badgered us for a tip.
We did our research before going to Italy. Tipping culture varies widely across countries, but we knew that waiters in Italy are paid a living wage and tipping in restaurants is uncommon except in cases of exceptional service. But this waiter had us pegged as Americans and sought to exploit our habituation to tipping at home. Discovering that we did not leave him a tip, his friendly demeanor vanished and he became belligerent. Our lunch experience ended very differently than its happy-go-lucky beginning.
The lesson learned was to always check online reviews. This place has dismal 1.6, 1.5, and 1.2-star ratings on Google, Trip Advisor, and Yelp, respectively, with many comments describing the exact behaviors we encountered. Forewarned is forearmed!
After an experience like that, one needs a palate cleanser. In Italy, there is nothing better for that than a bit of gelato, seen here being enjoyed by Kristy in the Piazza del Risorgimento.
And after that? It was time for one of the main events that brought us all to Italy in the first place!
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