Voyeur: Piazza Navona; Lady in white

There is a women dressed all in white.  Her hair is a light brown, cut so close to her head that it barely touches her neck.  She wears amber-shaded glasses and carries a focused, serious expression.  Wrinkles collect near her eyes as she squints in the sun; she looks to be around her late middle ages.  Slowly, she walks around the Fountain of the Four Rivers, holding her video camera up and recording as she makes her way.  She is not here alone: rather, she is part of a tour group.  She has blue headphones in her ears, which lead to a small blue headset on her chest that allows her to hear her tour guide from far away.

At the moment her tour guide is silent, and she takes that minute to explore the Piazza Navona on her own.  However, she would rather stay near the fountain, the thing that most catches her eye.  Once she has finished her roundabout, she meets up again with the rest of the group.  As other people get their picture taken in front of the fountain she shies away.  Politely, she stands on the sidelines watching.  She has her recording, and that is all she needs.

This is her first time in Rome, and she is traveling on her own.  Her family is back in Spain, and she wants to show her young grandchildren what she has seen.  She figures video is the best way to do that.  She thinks of the stories she will tell them and she smiles.  Her tour group is getting ready to leave, all of them speaking quietly in Spanish.  She takes one last look at the fountain before smiling at her camera.  And then she is gone from sight, down another street in Rome.

Giornali 2: Campo de' Fiori

The Campo de’ Fiori snuck up on me, or it did the first time I went to see it.  I wasn’t sure exactly where I was going; all I knew was that I was walking along winding streets in the right general direction of the piazza.  Then, as if out of nowhere, the small streets opened up, and in front of me were a series of markets selling fruit and food and clothes.  It was loud and busy, filled to the brim with people.   The fruit stalls came first, mixed in with a little dry fruit and household item booths.  Following that came vegetables and trinket stalls, more fruit and two pasta booths.  A couple of clothing sellers were dispersed throughout.  A little off from the main market, leaving enough room for cars to drive through, are two stalls selling flowers.  Restaurants and food shops surround the markets. 

The day was so hot, it made the fruit look too good to pass up.  You could buy fruit cups for a quick snack, or package some up yourself to take home (or eat out of a box, your choice).  I got a fruit cup after searching each fruit stall for the one I thought looked the best.  The markets are covered by tents, providing shade and making the space seem as if enclosed.  The vendors yell out as you pass, shouting things like “T-shirts, T-shirts, cheap”, “Pasta!  Preggo!  Pasta” and “look, look”.  Walking through, I felt like I could get lost in all the hustle and bustle.  I loved it.

Even though I live in New York City, and have experienced things like the farmer’s market, there is something different about the markets at the Campo de’ Fiori.  I’m not really sure as to what it is; perhaps it is the tightness of it, the loud mix of languages, the diversity of what is being sold.  Perhaps it is all of these things and more.  Either way, I found the markets endearing.  I was in Rome, really in Rome, not anywhere else.

At one end of the piazza, the one opposite I entered from, there is a fountain.  It is not small, but compared to some of the other fountains I’ve seen in Rome, it is not big, either (and it is nothing compared to the Trevi).  It is shaped like an oval, and has a smaller oval rising out of it.  I begin eating my fruit while taking a break near it.  I see a man come and wash his hands.  I wonder if even the water in all the fountains is fit for drinking?  From the fountain, I am able to see a statue standing above the markets in the middle of the piazza.  I am shocked that I didn't notice it before!  I must have been too caught up in the markets looking at the wares.  The statue is of a man named Giordano Bruno.  I later found out that he was a philosopher who was burned alive for believing things that countered the beliefs of the church.  The story is rather morose, yet it doesn’t damper the feel for the markets as it currently stands.

I want to see the Camp de’ Fiori at night, when the markets are gone and there is just a large empty space.  I wonder if it will be as magical then.  I wonder if Giordano Bruno will then be able to shine.  I really love the Campo de’ Fiori, with its vibrancy of color and constant movement of people and food.

Ekphrasis in Galleria Borghese: Bozzetto per il monumento equestre del Re Luigi XIV

Luigi XIV, or who I assume to be Luigi XIV, rides a horse that looks wild, as if it is about to take a leap.  Its back legs are bent and its front legs are outstretched; its head is wheeling back with its eyes wide open, and its mane flies around its neck.  The terracotta that the sculpture is made of has left swirling textures around the horse’s muscles, and volume in the mane and tale.  The horse is frozen in a state of movement, and looks as though it would start to gallop away if given the chance.  Luigi XIV, on the other hand, looks poised and in control, a look of serious determination on his face.  He keeps his balance though he does not grip the horse in any way.  Instead, his right arm is stretched downwards, gripping tightly to a small pole of some sort, making his joints look tense.  His left arm is bent upwards, and over it folds a cloth that wraps around his body and ends in his lap, the folds blowing backwards in the wind.  His face is framed by long, wavy locks, which are carved into the terracotta in such a way that they seem to be slightly wind-tousled.  His eyes are looking away from the horse, as if into the far of distance.  His chest is bare, though under the cloth on his lap you can see hints of armor.  On his feet, too, are warrior’s sandals.  He seems overall unconcerned with the wild nature of his horse.

Giornali 1: Santa Maria in Trastevere

The church of Santa Maria in Transtevere is old, and the fading paint and browning sculptures on the façade show it.  It looks small and cramped, pressed between two other, larger, buildings.  In a way, it appears both majestic and eerie, as if abandoned despite still being in constant use.  The inside, too, seems old yet glorious.  There is very little light streaming in from the windows, so the entire church seems dark.  It smells slightly of a musky scent, and a soft recording of a singing choir can be heard.  The church is not too large inside, but every inch of it is covered with intricate designs.  There are things to look at everywhere, and the darkness causes you to look longer, and harder, at everything you pass. 

Along the right wall, a display catches my eye.  It is a bronze statue of Jesus on the cross, and beneath him is a bust of the mother Mary.  He is dark, while she is lit up.  There is something terrifying about it to me, yet captivating at the same time.  His face is in agony, blood streaming from his side, while her hands are clasped and a pious smile is on her face.  It seems to fit well together at the same time that it does not.

The main altar contains a small painting of Jesus, and is made of red and white marble.  There is a cross on top, and another cross along with a bible on the desk below the altar, where I assume the priest might stand.  Other than those small details, the altar is simple, perhaps the most straight forward object in the church.

The simple altar, however, is beneath a very grand mosaic that makes up for the altars humbleness.  On the top of the arch, the mosaic shows Jesus in the center of eight men, four on either side.  Perhaps they are the apostles?  While I was taking a break and sitting in the pews gazing at the main altar, the lights began to go on.  The sudden ability to see the mosaics surprises me.  There is so much detail in them that it is astounding.  I can see now that beneath Jesus and the apostles are a series of sheep, and beneath that are angels.  The mosaic is so delicate, with such small pieces and so much gold and color. 

I admit I am not religious, and don’t understand many of the intricacies of the Catholic faith.  I do believe, though, that the sheer detail of the church, the grandeur of it, is meant to be overwhelming and awe striking.  And by doing those things, perhaps be a little frightening as well.  While sitting there, in Santa Maria in Trastevere, I feel a little uneasy.  I am fascinated by it all, and find it beautiful.  But at the same time it is something that I can’t quite grasp, and some of the strong imagery frightens me a little.  Honestly, there is nothing quite like sitting there, looking at the mosaics behind the main altar, feeling the overwhelming grandeur of the church.

Question and Answer on the Palatine

There is a lot about the palatine that can be confusing, as there are a series of ruins of a great house that's creation has spanned decades, and it is hard to tell one part from the other.  On top of that, the ruins did not seem to be labeled, as far as I could see, and the maps so sparse it is easy to get lost.  Often only able to figure out where I was after a couple of times circling the same place, I came across something that truly baffled me.  A good deal below the ground level where I was standing there were ruins of something that looked somewhat like a racetrack.  I had never heard of a racetrack in the Domus Augustana/Flavia, which is where the rectangular ruin was located, and it was definitely too small to be the circus maximus.  I was truly confused about what it could be.  After looking in the blue book (which has a map of the entire palatine, making it a little bit more manageable regardless of not counting for the multiple different levels it seems to have), I was able to figure it out.  Apparently, it is not a racetrack at all, but actually the remains of a sunken garden.  It is in the style of a hippodrome, which is what caused the confusion.  Apparently it dates back to the time of Domitian; it was my favorite part of the old ruins to see.

Ekphrasis in the Capitoline Museums - Gladiatore Di Monnot

The Gladiator is perched as if lying over a fallen victim, his hand raised in the air, clutching his sword as if ready to deliver the final blow.  Yet there is nothing below him but the ground and the sheath to his sword, and his face betrays the rest of his actions.  His head is positioned upwards, looking at his arm that holds the blade.  His face has a subtle expression, mouth slightly in a frown and eyebrows that look a touch furrowed.  Unlike the typical gladiator, he is wearing nothing besides a shield on his left arm, which is propped up against a small stump of a tree.  His sword sheath looks discarded and almost broken, lying on what appears to be a relatively barren surface, spare two plants (one which his knee rests on and another on the edge of the base) and the tree stump.  His shield has no engravings on the outside, and a basic rim of patterns on the inside.  He appears young and muscular, and the entire statue is made of white marble, giving him a feeling of power, of something majestic.  Yet everything about him seems to contradict himself.  His body looks as though ready to go in for the kill, yet there is no one beneath him and his face looks conflicted.  He is youthful, but rests on a tree stump, as if his shield is too heavy for him alone.  He is a gladiator, except he wears no armor.  Nothing about him seems to make sense.

I wonder what it is he is thinking.

(His sword, which was whole at the time of his creation, has been broken sometime in the course of history, and is now missing.  Perhaps that is why he looks forlorn.)

Place and Space in the Roman Forum

The roman forum was hard for me to navigate at first, since you are forced to enter from the Vie Dei Fori Imperiali, where as my mental map pictures the forum as entered by the colosseum.  The expanive amount of ruins that you are automatically met with is more than a little overwhelming.  The entrance point places you between the remains of the Temple of Antoninus and Faustina (which are under restoration) and the Basilica Amelia, facing the collections of stone that were once was the temple of Julius Caesar.  From there you are allowed to proceed various ways along the ancient roads, with the ruins blocked off by gates.  Since we can walk through the forum on the same routes that the ancient Romans once did, it makes the forum in Roman times easier to imagine.  For our walk, we started near the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, which one would pass if entering from the colosseum, allowing me to start up my mental map again.

There is definitely a feeling of layering in the Roman Forum.  On higher up areas, ruins of structures such as the temple of Saturn and the curia watch over the others beneath them.  Since the forum was worked and reworked for so many centuries, the ruins seem somewhat cluttered, and with out prior knowledge or a guide, it can be hard to identify where one ruin ends and another begins.  Luckily, each structure is visible from the main ancient roads, and follows the ancient layout, so you can match it up.  I figure that identification would have been much easier in ancient times, but I still believe the forum would have seemed both chaotic and organized at the same time.

I also feel like the forum has been arranged to cater towards tourists.  Stray marble lies in corners and bends along the wider parts of the paths, allowing tourists to sit and observe, while feeling in some way a part of the ruins.   Trees also line the roads and cover many empty areas.  I wonder if those trees were always in the forum, or if they came later, once the forum was excavated and turned into a historic park.  Either way, they provide a good amount of shade to rest in.  I tried to imagine what it must have been like to be an ancient Roman bustling through, but no matter what I felt like a tourist.  Visiting historical monuments does not seem to be a normal pastime of a typical Roman citizen, and it was impossible to ignore the crowds of people speaking a multitude of different languages.  Traveling through the forum I felt like an outsider, but that was okay.  I was happy to marvel at temple remains get a little lost along the way.