Last Day in Rome

Served at Mass today again; made more mistakes than last time; being less nervous I was probably also less careful.

Last day in Rome; forgot to throw a coin into the Trevi.

O well.

Busy Day

Today I spent the whole day looking about. On the itinerary were:

The Circus Maximus (best seen from the north west side)
Santa Anastasia (great relic chapel)
San Giorgio in Velabro (& and the funny looking arch of Janus)
Santa Maria in Cosmedin (really neat choir)
Santa Sabina (very beautiful choir and apse)
Sant' Alessio (awesome relic chapel of the stairs where he was martyred)
St. Peter's through a key hole
Sant' Anselmo (very beautiful church, who cares if it was "only" built in 1900; freakish new age music playing in store, couldn't get out fast enough)
Santa Prisca (rather faded)
Long walk along the Parco della resistenza (filthy, and full of non-euro bums; not that I like any sort of hobbos, but at least the Italian, Romanian, and Gypsy beggars fit in, and look like models for a 17th century landscape)
Porta San Paolo (the most beautiful gate, as far as I am concerned, is the Porta Pia, especially because of the inscription)
The pyramid (rather ho-hum)
A long walk along via Marmorata (completely devoid of character and charm)
Ponte Sublicio (this is not one of the better views of the Tiber)
The Great Port of Ripa (where is it??)
San Francesco (incredible church! Bernini altar! Incorrupt saint asleep beneath a side altar!)
Santa Cecilia (this was supposed to be the highlight of my trip, but an American banshee in a "modified" benedictine habit was exceedingly rude to me, and did not allow me to venerate St. Cecilia.)
Dinner (another more decently priced restaurant in Trastevere discovered)
Home.
I am back in Toronto this Monday afternoon for a whole week. See you there.

Mass trumps museum--almost.

So I am glad I went to the final day of class, because we had a nice farewell for the teachers, who are in their late twenties, so we all became friends. My class bought our teacher as a farewell/gag gift the three things that superstitious Italians will never give each other, and the magazine he dislikes most. We ended up playing pictionary in Italian the rest of the morning.

Then there was an overly ceremonious presentation of the diplomas in the chapel, followed by the "ordinary" form of Mass, celebrated "extraordinarily" badly. ***WARNING: skip the rest of this paragraph if you do not wish to be subjected to a prolonged rant on the liturgy***For some reason, we got three sermons. Though the Mass was concelebrated by about 50 priests (or perhaps fewer, since who knows how far is too far from the altar before one is no longer able to consecrate,) the main celebrant was the assistant "Magnificent Rector", who couldn't put down the microphone after the sign of the cross and gave us a 10 minute sermon complete with warm up joke before the kyrie (which was sung after it was recited, thereby surpassing even the 9 repetitions of the old Mass), which was followed by another 10 minute sermon in the usual place, but not in the usual manner, as he actually addressed people in the audience congregation, asking them questions, and after he got that minor detail out of the way (i.e. the consecration, which is always Eucharistic prayer II, and as if this doesn't atrophy the most important part Mass enough timewise, they also had no time to consume the precious blood after communion or purify the vessels, all of which were shipped off to the sacristy, where I can only presume the proper magic rituals were observed,) his Assistant Magnificence incorporated another 10 minute sermon at the end of Mass, in a most ingenious way never before seen by me, adlibbing to the postcommunion prayer, in order to turn it into a segue for his "closing thoughts." I do hope that the previous run-on sentence sufficiently conveyed my emotional state at the time, which was also exacerbated by the freakishly bad cantor, who both sang off key, and played the fake organ off tempo. [END OF LITURGICAL RANT]

Yay. After all that, I decided on not going to San Gregorio, since I had already been to Mass, and spent two rather hurried hours at the Palazzo Altemps until I was kicked out when it closed. I definitely need to go back at length, there were simply too many things I didn't get to look at properly, but at least I now know where they are. I also stopped to pray a bit at the palace chapel (thankfully it was empty) since it has a splendid collection of relics. I simply do not understand why the Vatican hasn't removed all the relics and deconsecrated the place. Relics should not be in museums! It is scandalous to have to pay to go see them!

Despite all my grumbling, perhaps God does love me, if only a little. Proof? Well apart from not dropping dead suddenly and going off to my deserved eternal reward (no doubt a hot one), He opened up for me something not normally seen! I was chatting with the girl at the reception, asking about volunteer opportunities at Roman museums as I was being kicked out, when I mentioned it was a pity that the Teatro Goldoni, a theatre in the palace built in 1575, and therefore one of the oldest private theatres in the city, had been closed for "restoration" for so long. I asked when it would reopen; she said it wouldn't for the time being, and then she asked if I wanted to see it! I said yes, of course, so she went off to get a key, and she then took me through bits of the palace I would otherwise not see, and I got to visit the theatre. To be honest, it isn't really such a great pity that the place is closed, but the thrill of going somewhere were most people are not allowed is not to be missed!

What do you think?

After Mass today, I went out to have a drink with Fadi and three of his friends. In other news, the Italian classes are done. I wish I could skip the “end of class Mass” tomorrow and the reception to follow, advertised as an “agape,” but I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to do so. My dilemma is that my combined ticket for the national collection of art runs out tomorrow, and I still haven’t visited Palazzo Altemps and the Crypta Balbi that are included in the ticket. O what to do, what to do? Have a fabulous time at the museums, or a dubious one at an “ordinary” Mass (sorry, couldn’t help myself) and ingest (probably mediocre) food? What to do, what to do? Suggestions in the comment box are welcome.

Livia's dinning room

Today I spent more than four hours at the Palazzo Massimo alle Terme, where the national collection of antiquities is housed. It would be impossible for me to list everything that impressed me, because in effect it all did. There are a few pieces which particularly stand out in my memory still. The statue of a Niobid on the ground floor, and the two bronzes of a boxer at rest and a prince in the room beside it. There was a very good Roman copy of Myron’s discobolus on the first floor, and in the same room there were two other very beautiful statues, one of a girl holding a dish, possibly performing some religious rite, and the other was of a crouching Aphrodite. In the room of the deities, I was most impressed by a seated Thetis, and a satyr playing a flute.

The next room held some very amazing bronzes, that came from the two palace ships found in lake Nemi. According to literary sources Caligula had built two “floating palaces” which had sunk in lake Nemi close to an imperial villa. Since the time of the renaissance, the ships were searched for in vain, to the point that the “ships of lake Nemi” sort of became the Italian version of the Loch Ness monster. But guess what, Mussolini had the lake partially drained and the remains of two huge hulls were found in 1932. They were placed in a specially built museum by the lake, but sadly, the retreating Nazi forces decided to set fire to the place, and nothing remains except the bronzes kept in this room.

The same floor had two very impressive sarcophagi, one depicting a battle between Romans and barbarians, the other a procession of senators, with a very bewildered looking boy at the head of the procession.

The second floor is completely devoted to mosaics and frescos. If your husband was the most powerful and richest man in the world, in fact, if he ruled the world, and you could have absolutely anything material you could ever desire, how would you decorate your dinning room? These questions were running through my head as I stepped into Livia’s triclinium. First impressions are such a precious thing. I can’t describe what a masterpiece this room is, or the feelings and sensations it evoked. I also felt like I was getting a very private insight of the first Roman Empress.

Barberini Palace, again

This evening I went to the Barberini palace, (to the museum, not to sleep over.) There was much to see, and it all pleased me exceedingly, especially the Caravaggios. Above all else, however, was Pietro da Cortona’s ceiling. I have never had the privilege to look up at something so remarkable. I don’t think there is a better ceiling fresco in all of Rome, the Sistine chapel excluded since it is something so unique it cannot be compared to anything else.

Speeling erorrs

In the late afternoon I went to St. Peters, because I had been told it was less of a zoo at that time. Indeed, it was less of a zoo. How easy and formulaic it would be for me to write about the glories of the baroque and the follies of the touring crowds at the tomb of the prince of the Apostles, so instead, I think I should devote some time to the original purpose for this blog.

Inscriptions—they are all over the place. I have noticed that very many of them have “HEIC” which might prove confusing to some. EI is a Republican convention for marking the long vowel I. Other means employed in ancient inscriptions are doubling the vowel, and writing it in slightly taller capitals. It wasn’t revived by the humanists as a mere fad, however, but as an aid to reading; whereas hic (with a short I) means “this man”, heic, or hic (with a long I) means “here.’ If you didn’t before, now you know.

Not everything you see on an inscription is always spelled correctly. Above St. Helena’s statue ‘neath St. Peter’s dome is an inscription relating that the holy cross was discovered “ab Helena imperatrixe”, by the Empress Helena. I have no idea why that x is there, as the common orthography is imperatrice. Pope Urban VIII, who erected the statue and chapel, was no mean Latin scholar either. What is going on? An aesthetic consideration? Did the secretary dictating the Pope’s text to the stonemason have a lisp?

Some inscriptions are less of a mystery. I saw the following graffito today: “F**K SCOOL.” (sic) I have, of course, edited the four letter expletive. I was arrested by the irony of the inscription for a few moments, contemplating that if this poor individual had stayed in school he might be able to spell (though that is no guarantee under the present dispensation), and, very likely, would find no need to vandalise ancient monuments.

Yes, I know that a graffito is not an inscription, but I do believe that it is the same instinct alive in present day Romans to scrawl their names and opinions all over the city, as that which led their ancestors to do the same in stone. Unfortunately, the Romans of today are not gifted with an education and aesthetic sensibility equal to their forefathers’.

Wax on my head

As some of you may have noticed, I stopped writing journal entries over a week ago. Someone wrote to me asking whether it was as boring for me to write the journal as it was for said person to read it….be that as it may, I received a telephone call (which trumps a mere e-mail) from another friend, whose advice was to ignore bad counsel.

Alright, so I am back to telling you what I did during the day.
This morning I made my happy way to Mass, delighted at the prospect of another high Mass. (As you can well imagine, the Mass on the 14th was extra solemn.) Indeed everything was set up in the church for such a celebration, and as I settled into my pew, leafing through my Liber and missal, the last thing I expected was for Fr. Gerard to ask me to serve because they were short one body. “Umm but Father, I’ve never--” but by then I was already in the sacristy, someone handing me a cassock and surplice, and Chris, the master of ceremonies, giving me first & last minute instructions. Thankfully, most of it consisted in “And just do what Maurizio on your right does.” I was only slightly panicked, but then the celebrant said “30 seconds!” and Chris: “Now the only difficult thing you must remember is---” and then the bell chimed, and for some reason, I found myself vested in cassock and surplice, holding a candle I forgot to light (somebody fixed this problem just as I was leaving the sacristy) in the procession towards the altar.

To me it seemed that Mass was over in no time, and I only managed to mess things up occasionally, like when I got tangled in my cassock when genuflecting and I spilled hot wax on my head (which I was still picking out of my hair over lunch,) or when I was asked to stand in front of the thurifer, I should have presumed it meant to stand facing him so I could hold the thurible open, not with my back to him facing the altar….
Well, that was Mass. After that I went to piazza del Popolo as I had planned, but my mood was immediately ruined because some silly basketball event was being held, and nonsense muzack was blaring, ruining what would have been a beautiful afternoon. I quickly made my way to Santa Maria del Popolo, but Mass was being celebrated, so I left rather quickly only after a cursory glance about, not wishing to play tourist during the sacred mysteries. The twin churches were open, but they are a particular rare case where the outside is far better looking than the inside. My destination was the palazzo Doria-Pamphili, so I walked down the Corso.

San Carlo is a particularly good example of a church that looks rather bland on the outside (in Rome, in comparison to everything else I mean) and is the apogee of bad taste on the inside. What can I describe it as? The Baroque gone bad? (And you know how difficult it is for me to say that, since I adore the baroque) A cheap opera stage set? I have never come across anything I found so dreadfully appalling that wasn’t made in the 20th century. Could we please let in the “spirit of Vatican II” into this one church and whitewash the whole thing?? Just this once??? The transept altars were beautiful and something totally different; the heart of St Charles Borromeo that is in a chapel behind the high altar is the only reason why I might return here.

I spent about two and a half hours in the Palazzo Doria-Pamphili. It has a very good audio guide of the collection, narrated by one of the Doria-Pamphili, who still live in the palace. There are wonderful state rooms, and very many amazing paintings, my two favourite being the Caravaggios. Several paintings of Eden and the four elements by Bruegel the elder were also fascinating in their details. The chapel was also quite stunning, not the least because the entire bodies of two early martyrs are propped up on couches, dressed in fine clothes with jewels and garlands of flowers. The collection of antique statues is not very exciting, but I was especially captivated by a sleeping baby Hercules, complete with mini club and lion skin.

Finally, some more pictures

Happy Feast of our Lady’s Nativity. In the morning I went to Trastevere, to our Lady’s Church there, which was one of the original parishes in Rome even before Christianity was legal, and to St. Chrisogonus, which has a very nice collection of relics (in a chapel!) and the incorrupt body of Blessed Ana Maria Taigi. Of course I prayed for my mom at her tomb, it seemed very appropriate. I wasn’t able to get to the Corsini palace in time, (it closes at 1), so I went to the botanic gardens after lunch like I had planned after going to the palace. It was very refreshing to walk about the garden, and I spent an hour under a shady tree reading Hibbert’s (sorry, not Herbert’s) Rome. It is an excellent book, which I really recommend, especially to any fans of H.V Morton out there.
After the garden I went up the Janiculum to discover some astonishing views of Rome below. The sight was even better than from the top of St. Peter’s. I also went to San Pietro in Montorio, but couldn’t look around much because of a wedding, but really contented myself with visiting the spot where St. Peter was martyred, and where Bramante built a little temple to adorn the place. There is a hole in the floor that lets you look down to the crypt below where the precise spot is covered with glass. I then discovered that it is possible to go around the back and down to the crypt, (but not go in) so I was able to get a better view. I also went to the Acqua Paola, where the view of Rome is magnificent. I came down after that, deciding to explore the very top of the hill, San Pancrazio and the villa Doria Pamphili some other time.
On my way to San Gregorio for Mass, I walked along the via Julia. I liked the facade of San Giovanni dei Fiorentini, and of course the dome, but there is something about the inside that left me cold. I don’t know, but I had a weird feeling in the place, despite the fact that they have a nice altar to St. Philip Neri. The altar cross is a reliquary of a wooden cross that used to belong to him. Met several new people at San Gregorio today, and it was confirmed that there would be a sung Mass on the 14, and maybe even a solemn High Mass. I am really looking forward to it.

White Night

Went to school. Finished my novena at Santa Maria Maggiore. I had a vague plan to go to the palace of the Knights of Malta for a guided tour tonight; it along with many other churches, palaces, and museums are open until the wee hours of the morn for “la notte biancha” or “white night.” Unfortunately, I could not find anyone to suffer my company, and not wishing to roam the streets of Rome alone at night (not that I would be all alone, the event is supposedly quite popular,) I decided to stay at home instead. I had a modest dinner in celebration of our Lady’s Nativity. No plans for tomorrow. Not sure what to do (apart from learning Italian, of course.)

Night at the Barberini palace

This morning it was school and novena as usual. In the evening, after Mass at San Gregorio, I finally met a friend of Brother Michael of the Toronto Oratory, Fadi, with whom I had been corresponding over e-mail for a little while. He also brought along his friend Eric, and we had a very nice evening over at Fadi’s apartment, drinking Chianti, eating goat cheeses, and talking about silly things, like the Mohammedan threat and Islamification of Europe, and important things like Herbert’s Rome (a book I have to guy) and Pergolesi’s Stabat Mater. It was very refreshing to spend some time with civilised people. I have a curfew over at where I live, and it’s on a subway line that closes at 9 p.m., so I wasn’t able to get back to the residence on time. Erik has a pretty large apartment and an extra bed, so he kindly offered me to stay. He lives in the last bit of the Barberini palace which the last bit of this once powerful family hasn’t sold off to the Italian state. I am told that the Principessa Barberini, the head of the family, lives in frescoed splendour two or three floors up from where I stayed.

Today

School, novena, and Mass at the usual places.

Be good if you can

School today; I have been moved to the advanced class. We had to do an exercise with the subjunctive (called the conjunctive in Italian) and reported speech. We were using a handout that goes with our textbook titled “Che chosa pensano gli stranieri degli Italiani”? (What do foreigners think about Italians?) Here is proof that I am not the only one with less than generous opinions:

“Che schifo! Non c’e mai una strada pulita”
“Che maleducati! Non rispettano mai il turno nelle code”
“Ma perche urlano sempre e parlano tutti insieme?”

We also watched a rather nice film (in Italian) on the life of St. Philip Neri titled “State buoni se potete.” (Be good if you can.) I thought it was a good film, but I would be very interested in an Oratorian’s opinion about it. The Kelly library should definitely buy it.

Then I went to Mass at San Gregorio. I got there early, and a priest began to say a private Mass, so I in fact attended twice. Well, three times, since Mass was also being said this morning in the Borghese chapel when I went to say my rosary for the novena. What a weird city; I would never go three times to Mass in one day in Toronto, but here it just happens quite naturally.

Same as usual

Nothing new to report. Said my rosary at St. Mary Major. Went to Mass at San Gregorio offered by a visiting priest, a friend of Fr. Gerard. I didn't quite catch his name. New server today, a seminarian from the North American College. Must go to bed now.

Capitoline Museums

Today I went to Mass at San Gregorio at the usual morning hour. Afterwards I was invited by Fr. Gerard to have lunch with him and two other people who attended Mass that morning. We agreed to meet at noon by Maderno’s fountain in St. Peter’s square, in case the Pope were home (he wasn’t) and said the Angelus. Pop quiz: Which fountain in St. Peter’s square is by Maderno and which one is by Bernini? Submit your answer to the comment box—and no cheating!

Between the end of Mass and the scheduled meeting at St. Peter’s, I went to St. Mary Major for my novena. High Mass was being offered at the high altar, so not only were all the side chapels locked, but all access to the Borghese chapel was cordoned off. There was no way for me to get even remotely close to the gates, so I said my rosary in front of the Regina Pacis instead. I presume our Lady did not mind. It is a very impressive statue, and the artist was able to portray our Lady both as motherly and protective in the way she clutches with her right arm the Christ child to her bosom, who looks eager to jump off her lap to offer the olive twig in his hand, and very strong, in the way she lifts up her left hand, as if she could stop a bullet or a daemon, or anything evil.

We said the angelus at noon in St. Peter’s, and then we went to have lunch at a Chinese restaurant close to Santi Apostoli. I got to meet a very nice Hungarian girl, Agnes, who was visiting Rome one last time because she is entering a Carmel when she goes back to the U.S. For the first time it became clear to me what a great sacrifice these women make when they choose to be cloistered.

After lunch I went to the Capitoline museums. I spent nearly five hours in there, without really knowing it. There were so many great things to see, but what was really exciting and new for me, since I have never seen it even in a book, was to visit the Tabularium, (more or less the state archives of the Roman Republic and Empire) which has only recently been reopened. There is an incredible view of the forum from the Tabularium, and I did indeed regret not bringing my camera. There were a couple of disappointments: the Lupa has been moved from her traditional room to a brand new (and distinctively ugly) atrium built for the equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius. The Capitoline Venus had bird doo doo or something else on her head, and many fruit flies buzzing around, which I thought was a great pity.

Shall I conclude this entry by recording some of the horrors perpetrated by the masses of fools that roam about this city? (There really should be some sort of entrance exam rather than passport check at the airport. Anybody who doesn’t demonstrate a minimum amount of knowledge of Classics and Catholicism should be sent back to wherever he came from.) In the Sala di Annibale, in the Palazzo dei Conservatori, where the oldest frescoes in the building are found, a Chinese man in his 20s actually reached out, and not only touched the wall, but proceeded to rub his (no doubt dirty) hand in circles over it. This continued for several seconds until a museum guard caught him. In that new atrium I was talking about, where the gilded statue of Hercules has also been moved, a Spanish woman decided to get her picture taken, while hugging the statue’s leg. In the courtyard of the Palazzo Nuovo, a statue of a fawn was splashed all over the face and torso (and the wall too) with some sort of black sticky stuff that looked an awful lot like dried Coca Cola. These people are a plague, and should be dealt with accordingly.

Laundry Day

Today there was no school, instead, a lot of sleeping on my part. I didn’t get up until 9, and then the whole day basically vanished. I had to go do laundry, and that sucked up all my time until 2.

Some good news is that I finally discovered a decently priced place to eat, and it is right across from my residence.

Then I went to St. Mary Major for day three of the novena. Halfway through my rosary everybody was kicked out of the Borghese chapel. I tried to get an explanation, but the rude man locking the gates was not very forthcoming, and muttered something about Mass starting. Well, I knelt at the locked gates and continued saying my rosary regardless. No Mass had begun by the time I left about 15 minutes later, and in any case, I don’t see what Mass at the High altar has anything to do with what people do in the side chapels.

I spent over an hour in the basilica museum. Lots of wonderful things to see, but I was very bothered by the fact that the reliquaries were all on display as well. It is exceedingly inappropriate. Besides, what if somebody wants to venerate the relics, does he have to cough up 4 euros for the privilege? The current arrangement is problematic at best. I was almost tempted to photograph them, because I have never come across pictures of these important relics before, but decided not to.

Finally I went to Mass at San Gregorio. We said the litany of our Lady and sang the Salve Regina after the votive Mass to the Immaculate Heart because today was first Saturday.