Momentary Blindness: The Orange Grove

I close my eyes and feel the warmth of the sun on my neck and shoulders.  A cool breeze blows through the orange grove and takes the edge off the heat, carrying the scent of cigarette smoke and citrus from a discarded orange peel near my bench.  It mixes with the distinct smell of pine trees, one that is lost amid the smells of bustling city streets but more prominent this far above them.  I feel something light brush against my foot, and realize it is a small clump of dead pine needles falling from the trees overhead.  I hear the rustle of feathers made by a pigeon that stops to rest near my bench.  The songs of various species of birds surround me.  Some of their coos and chirps come from nearby, while others come from farther away.  They call and answer each other in the midday sky.  I hear the crunch of pebbles made by the footsteps of passing strangers, and the excited exclamations of a group of young school children.  An authoritative voice that must belong to their chaperone or teacher commands them to quickly fill up their water bottles at the drinking fountain.  They chatter amongst each other—frantic, elated—nearly drowning out the muted dialogues of strangers on benches near mine.  They laugh and converse in a language whose intonations are now somewhat familiar to me, but the meaning of which I cannot even begin to comprehend.  This is just fine with me.  I consider myself lucky to be completely oblivious in such a beautiful place.   

Location: Orange Grove on the Aventine Hill

Date: May 28^th, 2015

6 Tips for Eating in Rome on a Budget

http://www.pinkpangea.com/2015/05/6-tips-for-eating-in-rome-on-a-budget/

Here's a link to an article that I wrote for another travel blog that I contribute to.  Feel free to check it out!

Voyeur: St. Peter's Square

            A young couple rushes through the crowd gathered in St. Peter’s Square.  The woman—probably in her early twenties—clutches the hem of her fluffy white wedding gown.  Her other hand is nestled in the crook of her fiancés elbow; he wears a form-fitting grey suit with a pink flower tucked into the breast pocket.  The woman wears a similar flower in her hair, which has been pinned back elaborately for her big day.  Despite the stifling heat and commotion of the square, they smile eagerly at one another. 

            They met in college—introduced by a mutual friend at a bar—and found themselves immediately drawn to one another by a love of traveling.  They decided they would see the world together as soon as they graduated, and are now making their way across Europe relying on guidebooks and the kindness of strangers.  He can’t remember when it happened or where he was (Paris?  London?  Amsterdam?), but he remembers being overwhelmed at the realization that he would be content to explore incredible places with her for the rest of his life. 

            It was her idea to get married in Rome so they could have their union blessed by the pope.  She comes from a devout Christian family but never made much of an effort to conform to the ideals.  They never seemed to understand her free spirit, why she would never be happy staying in the same town for the rest of her life.  She knows they’ll be disappointed in her decision to get married while so far from home, but she hopes that when she tells them about standing in the middle of St. Peter’s in a wedding dress, all frustration will be forgotten.  She holds onto him tighter as a cardinal begins to read the English translation of the pope’s blessing. 

           

“The church stresses the importance of engagement.  It is a time for two people to get to know one another, and prepare of the beautiful and demanding experience that is marriage…”

Ekphrasis: Amore e Psiche

            A man lies horizontally on top of a green and yellow satin bedspread, supporting himself on his elbows.  He is naked, save the vibrantly colored wings that decorate his backside.  One of his arms sits atop an elegant circular pillow, which is portrayed in shades of green and yellow to match the bed he is draped across.  His other arm rests on a bouquet of white and red flowers, which are matched by those in the vase on the bedside table.  The vase has been carefully positioned in front of the man so as not to overexpose his body.  His gaze is cast downwards.  He neither smiles nor frowns, and I cannot help but think that his rosy cheeks, curled tufts of strawberry blonde hair, and his apparent bashfulness cause him to appear somewhat childlike, despite his being a grown man with well-defined physique. 

            A woman stands above him on the same bed, looking down with a small smile on her face.  In her left hand, she holds a lighted wooden candle directly over her partner’s head.  In her right hand, which rests by her side, she clutches a small silver sword.  A wooden arrow lies on the bed beneath her foot.  Delicate white and red flowers decorate her headpiece, and a sash of gold and silver is tied around her otherwise nude body.  It is unclear if her position implies that she is going to hurt this man or make love to him.  Whatever the case may be, she is clearly in a position of power over him, emphasized by the fact that he seems too timid to meet her gaze. 

            A thick canopy of red fabric surrounds the bed that the couple is portrayed on.  The color dominates the background as if to compensate for the body parts that are not present in this scene.  It matches the red bedside table that is positioned next to the bed.  A crossbow and satchel full of wooden arrows sit atop the table.  A small brown, black, and white dog is curled up beside what appears to be the man’s discarded weaponry, and stares out intently with one eye.  The arrow beneath the woman’s foot, her powerful stance, and the fact that this man lies beneath her without any sort of means to defend himself shows that he is clearly subordinate to her.  The man’s wings and weaponry imply that he has been endowed with some sort of mythological power; the fact that this woman is mortal and clearly still dominant and makes for an even more striking depiction of the desire between them.       

Painting: Amore e Psiche

Painter: Jacopo Zucchi

Date: 1589

Location: Villa Borghese Museum

The Church of St. Stefano Rotondo

It constantly amazes me how immense of an impact Roman churches—even those that are smaller in size—can have.  I always catch my breath for a brief moment when I enter a basilica; for some reason I never expect them to be quite as large, quite as ornate, quite as magnificent, as I find they are when I make the first step into their tranquil, hushed atmosphere.  What is interesting about these spaces to me is that those who visit them, regardless of what deity they worship or religion to which they conform, can appreciate them.  There is a distinct feeling of reverence and respect that accompanies a Roman church that does not necessarily have to stem from sensing “the presence of God”.  Though those of a devout Christian faith must feel this to an overwhelming extent, those who do not consider themselves Christian can experience similar enthrallment in standing among the work of architects and artists whose fear and devotion to God were so great that it motivated them to create these places of worship.

On my second solo excursion, I visited the church of St. Stefano Rotondo.  Hidden at the end of a long gravel driveway and nestled among trees, I would think it would not be obvious to the average passerby that it is a church, were it not for the engraving carved into its stone entrance.  It was very secluded and quite, surely emphasized by the fact that there were no other visitors in the church at the time that our group went to see it.  The space was dim, but it did not feel dark in the way that other basilicas we have visited have felt to me.  The light streaming in from the windows above the altar reflected off the concrete pillars and walls. 

One of the most striking aspects of this church is fact that it is circular.  I learned afterwards that the church is one of the oldest circular churches in existence, and takes its shape from the plan of a classical mausoleum, not unlike those of August of and Hadrian.  According to Macadam’s Blue Guide, Christians adapted this style of architecture for the building of a shrine above a martyr’s tomb.  (261-262) The dead are not only memorialized in the shape of the church itself, but in the paintings of gruesome martyr deaths that line its walls.  While some depict Christians praying amongst threatening bears and hungry lions, other representations are far more horrific. 

The details of the deaths suffered by Christian martyrs are in no way spared in this church.  The blood and gore that has been vividly portrayed in these scenes demonstrates the way in which martyrs were willing to sacrifice themselves for their love of God.  For a martyr, giving up bodily life on earth was a small price to pay for eternal life in heaven. The fact that these martyr deaths are venerated and memorialized on the walls of St. Stefano Rotondo emphasizes the notion that a martyr can never truly die, because the spaces that commemorate them allow their memory to thrive.