Giornale III - Roma

For our second time, Bucky, Reshma, and I entered Castel Sant’Angelo to buy the tickets to walk around and see the fortress. Bucky and my first attempt was when we were told entrance alone would be fourteen euro each, however, we were advised that between 9-11 am the price is reduced to only five euro in which we, of course, jumped on. From the outside, it resembled a medieval, fortified castle much like what I have seen in America. Nonetheless, this monument had much more to offer due to its layering of utilitarian use that correlated with the time period.

The majority of our time spent here was walking up and down stairs and getting cut-off by random blockades placed by the staff. We utilized our traditional and most basic method of viewing, wondering, to decide where we went. Poor directional cues and misleading signs made for a choppy and incohesive experience while the walking room to room. There was also very poor signage in that we never really knew what we were looking at if it wasn’t pertinent to the structure itself such as what a specific room was used for. The massive, bulky grandeur of the building’s exterior is consistent with the majority of its interior, yet, there is a handful of hand-crafted, beautifully designed rooms deep within the castle that conflict.

Approximately our first twenty minutes of walking consisted of the outermost layer of the castle that seemed to spiral around the perimeter. Everything was dark and dusty as if we were going through stone tunnels. There were holes cut out of the walls along the left-hand side that allowed natural light to pour through. When peering out we noticed they lead to outdoor patio-type spaces that were typically filled with cannons and stacks of cannonballs for firing away from the castle. Walking up and around the outer shell it was obvious that its main purpose was protection. Loads of artillery and cut-outs for shooting at incoming enemies. This all makes sense as the most recent model was used as a fortress.

To this day I cannot comprehend the lay-out or mapping of this castle. I can tell you what it looked like from the outside and what individual rooms looked like, but how to get from point A to point B inside of it, not a chance. All I know is that no matter which direction you are going, you are walking up stairs or turning left or right. Despite this, you are able to walk through the repurposing and layering of the monument and take note of how its function changed and how it visually changed. Deep in the center, we discovered Hadrian’s mausoleum which was the building’s original intent. His tomb was large and bulky and rested inside an open room that required an indoor bridge to reach. There wasn’t much to see beyond that until you venture further out into the papal additions. The rooms created by the papacy were extravagant and at the time seemingly unfit with the remainder of the castle. The ceilings and floors were decadent and the walls were highly decorated with art and gold. Despite Hadrian’s history, they seemed to have completely taken over the mausoleum and made it their own. The pope’s name was tagged on every single doorway so that no one could forget to give him credit for the fortress and its usefulness. Despite the diversity and play among differing years (and ultimately societal ideals), my favorite part of the fortress was the views of the cityscape you get to experience once reaching the top. It is not simply a straight shot up, nor could I tell you how I did it, but it was worth all of the directionless walking.

(Castel Sant’Angelo, 6/4/19)

Ekphrasis II - Roma

Minuscule multicolored pieces

Insignificant on their own, but jointly extraordinary

The simple placement of inanimate objects brings life to the scene

Blues and greens are laid in a blended divide

Tones of earth dance around a pop of spirited red

Beautiful sounds of vibrating strings,

Send orchestrated signals across the land

For where is the origin of the musical cry

To whom may seduce those wandering ears

Movement by land, water, and sky

Yet all paths merge into a central locus

Many have completed the trek,

Sitting in sweet serenity with attention focused on the art

Personal identities masked by wonder,

All indifferent to the other, yet connected by one

Others are quick to approach in the distance

Swiftly gliding through the air with intent

Mother earth shows her delight through layers of molten rock

The musician sits comfortably in the midst of the chaos

Open and warm to the audience,

Their bow completes its final note and is raised to the sky

Eyes travel across the tool and up towards the heavens

Performance for those greater,

A show in devotion to a home above

Liaison between both walks of life

Meeting grounds of power,

Both divine and those who claim to be

Using temporal power and physical proximity,

They are perhaps in solidarity with the mythical

Secondary connections are made through the power of music

The living and the dead have the luxury of sound like no other

Never before have they heard a thing so grand

Never before have you seen a story so exquisite

Encapsulated by a framing meander

Borders lead to truncated views

Where the repeated motifs end, imagination begins

(Galeria Borghese 6/5/19, Marcello Provenzale, Orfeo, 1608)

Giornale II - Roma

Today, Claire, Peter and I spent our free morning adventuring what we like to call a “densely layered” sight which included a small church, a museum, and a crypt. Our first stop was the Museum of Capuchin Friars Minor of the Providence of Rome, where we learned the history and mystic ways of the religious order. Besides two other women, the three of us practically had the whole museum to ourselves. This allowed us the freedom to view, read, quietly discuss, and move about at our own pace with little distraction. Since being in Rome, I have come to learn that this empty viewing opportunity is rare, thus we did not take it for granted and truly appreciated some room to reflect. The museum was small but held a substantial collection of Capuchin imagery, iconography, models, and lots of relics. Bouncing from showcase-to-showcase filled with miscellaneous objects both small and large, we are quick to point out all of the relics housed within the glass. Although very interesting, our main purpose for visiting here was to see the crypt. Thus, we saw every object/piece of art they had to offer, and swiftly made our way through the museum and to the entrance of the Capuchin Crypt.

We approached an employee sitting by the doorway playing the role of security, flashed a friendly smile, and made our descent into the crypt. In my direct line of vision was a semi-long corridor about thirty meters long, broken up by little archways indicating different viewing rooms that were to the right. It was clear that what we were about to see was not extensive in length, as I was able to see the gift shop with another employee at the opposite end. By the last step down, I knew this would be an experience like no other, as I saw the row of “light fixtures” hanging along the aisleway made of pure bones. The corridor was flanked by six different rooms named after the main bones used in the designs; although all different bones were used in every room. The first room was shocking. The bones of hundreds of the exhumed Capuchin monks were used as decorations and displays from floor to ceiling. Pile of bones stacked on top of one another lined the walls and created a bed for two full-bodied skeletons. The walls of the rooms and hallway were full of art and other interior decors that were strictly constructed of different bones. All around you, no matter where you turned or looked (including above your head) you were faced with the bones of actual people that once walked the same earth. Some were put back together to form a full skeleton in which they were laid down to rest, or some even standing up as if still moving. They were each clothed in their traditional monk dress of a long brown robe and held a rope with the cross hanging from it. Those that were reassembled, seemed to have been labeled/identified by name and crosses were placed in the ground in front in honor of them.

Although eerie and a bit uncomforting at first, the art created by the skeletal remains was fascinating and in a strange way beautiful. Spending nearly twenty minutes walking through the crypt, I was taken back not only by the mere shock factor of human remains but by the intricacy and devotion dedicated to the space. Being able to walk from room to room without interruption allowed me to really articulate my perceptions of the space. It is safe to say that within the first ten minutes or so I was able to experience the holiness of the area and understood better why and how it was a place of worship. The creators were able to memorialize the monks through stunning art in a way that some are able to walk out ready for the world when/if they are brought back to life. The last room of the crypt was titled “Crypt of resurrection” where a painting depicting resurrection was the centerpiece. This further proves the idea that the bones being held in the crypt are available and ready upon the monks' potential resurrection.

(Il Convento dei Cappuccini, 5/28/19)

Voyeur II - Roma

In an open cement slab in front of the supreme court building, I sat on a bench overlooking a handful of people enjoying the nice weather. Upon scanning my surroundings, I was quick to notice a small family of three. The family consisted of a heteronormative couple and their child of about two years old. Both mom and dad were young and looked to be around their early thirties. My attention towards the family was triggered by the fact that they were all gathered around the stroller while the mother -like many other Europeans- was casually smoking. She continues to ignore the medical alerts and articles about their health risks as it is a cultural norm and she has been doing it since at least 19. She tried quitting for the baby, but extra financial stress has her more on edge than usual. This would explain why the father was responsible for supervising the child as he played with anything in his sight and chased after pigeons.

As it was Republic Day, they were spending their time off as a family for some quality time and utilizing the beautiful weather. Mom works a full-time job and takes advantage when she has the opportunity to concentrate on her family. However, long days at work leave her exhausted for when times like this arise. Dad has a slightly stronger bond with the little boy at this point, due to his additional time spent with him. He is able to work remotely from home and thus watches over the kid whenever necessary while attending to work on his own time.

As the sun beamed down at its peak, leaving little shade around, a bit of rest was due for the family. They had already been at the piazza for at least an hour chasing the little boy around in the grass and it just so happened to be approaching 12:30 pm. The mom rummages around the stroller to simultaneously reorganize and check to make sure everything is present. After a few minutes, she gave the go-ahead and the family of three left to sit down and enjoy a nice lunch at home.

(Piazza Cavour, 6/2/19)

Momentary Blindness II - Roma

The saturated wood beneath seeps through and dampens my pants while muggy air coats my exposed skin leaving goosebumps in its trail. Water heightens the aroma of fresh plants, wood, and life. Every inhale is treated with a hint of citrus that leaks from blossoms of orange and escalates with each gust of wind. Quiet and serene as if you have escaped the urban world, hearing nothing but nature’s gifts. Birds of all kinds gather around the park conversing and singing their unique songs. A mass abundance of shade is provided by large broccoli shaped trees that create a canopy overhead. Moments come and go where the sun is finally able to break through. It lights my page in asymmetrical shapes and stripes and caresses my skin as if stepping into a warm shower. The droplets that continue to fall off my leafy roof drip sporadically onto my skin, contradicting my warm shower fantasy. My breathing softens and is rhythmed by the plopping of water into small puddles. In time these puddles grow, and the droplets change character. I am able to detect what the water is falling on through its plummet and ultimate splattered demise. Everything near is a target; trash cans, the ground, the benches, the people, and most frustratingly, my notebook. No pattern of spillage can be detected to prevent such incidents but luckily each drop is few and far between. One hits the top left corner nearly missing my hand. Creating such an insignificant splatter, it spreads across my symbols of ink and absorbs into nothing.

(Aventine Hill, 5/27/19)

Ekphrasis I - Roma

Fabric taut within a firm grasp,

Her arm raises to the heavens

Draping the garment along her limb

A wing similar to her lover

Melting with lust

Both her and her clothes

She stares in the direction of her fist,

As if looking for something beyond

Yet more than content with the situation at hand

Thin silky cloth lays gently upon her left breast

Flowing down her body like a waterfall

Stemming from a knot sitting atop her shoulder

Continuously streaming down her legs

Modesty out the window

Comfortable in her skin

Open and amenable to exposure

Passion in the absence of human connection

Attraction through the form of a swan

Nestled between her legs, neck elongates towards her chest

She holds his body with a soft embrace   

Supporting his weight and securing his position on her lap

A slight bend in her knee lifts in opposition

Clothing builds upon it in folded layers,

One on top of the other in continuous unity

A tide is created between the act of underdressing,

And the contracting of bodies

As if caught off guard

Unintentional seduction

Her passion develops by the minute,

Provoking the seduced to tear off the garb

The swan gawks at her beauty,

Awaiting reactions and gauging emotions

She fails to notice his visually attentive behavior,

But succumbs to other senses

Atop her head, her hair remains proper

Her wavy locks secured in the back without a strand astray

Untouched by the scandal below

Holy eroticism filling the foundational pages,

A story engraved in marble and time


(Palazzo Nuovo 5/26/19, Timotheos, Statue of Leda and the Swan, 2nd c. CE)

Giornale I - Roma

After a long afternoon filled with thought-provoking spectacles and peer-led presentations, Hannah, Lauren and I decided to break away from the larger group to partake in an adventure of our own. The time was roughly 5:30 pm and we knew our time was running short as church’s close early. With this in mind, we set off immediately with the pursuit to undergo the quickest route possible to Santa Maria in Trastevere. Due to our fairly close proximity in Piazza del Campidoglio, we decided to take the journey by foot. Within around 20 minutes of casual walking, we made our way into the opening of the Piazza di Santa Maria. The quant public space had a singular fountain at its center that was raised and wrapped with stairs. It seemed to have made for the perfect resting place for locals and tourists alike. We were quick to pinpoint the basilica as it was directly across from where we entered and had large arched openings with ionic columns in between. Statues of popes were equally spaced out along the top railing with a larger golden edifice attached in the background. We entered through an archway and were welcomed by two grand walls containing signs and inscriptions taken from other churches and buildings that no longer remain but such objects preserved. Unfortunately, I am unable to translate Latin and thus can only appreciate the inscriptions for their workmanship and craft rather than linguistic content. After a quick glance of these broad scrapbook-like walls, I decide to enter through the large wooden doors. The door led you directly into the church’s right aisle, allowing all of the light to be shadowed by a large row of columns. Before getting too caught up in the detail, I decided to head to the back of the building and stand in the center so that I can equally see both sides. By taking a step back, I was able to perceive many things at once, rather than honing in on fine details (something that can be overwhelming when you first enter). I noticed that the columns lining both sides of the aisles were not consistent and displayed great diversity. It was understood that much like in S. Francesca Romana (in which we toured earlier that day), these columns were evidence of spoliation as they were taken from many buildings and monuments and repurposed for additional use. Lining the walls directly above them were patterns of alternating mosaics and windows, both in which were the same size and shape as the uniformity is more aesthetically pleasing. Beautifully detailed mosaics were also found across the whole front half of the building covered in lots of gold and much more elaborate as they served as the backdrop to the main altar. The octagonal ceiling was a breathtaking mix of gold and paint with a painting of the assumption of the Virgin at its center. After taking this moment to scan the general space, I set off to walk the perimeter. The decorations and symbols used were ornamental and esthetic following the same basic model for traditional basilicas as this is one of the oldest in Rome. This highly garnished basilica was dazzling with its abundance of gold and mosaics. The three of us separated and spent a good chunk of time simply wandering around and observing/appreciating the beautiful artwork, architecture, and holiness of the space. But alas, we mutually decided it was time to leave it behind and continue onto our next journey - finding some dinner!


(Basilica of Santa Maria in Trastevere, 5/24/19)