The Roman Chronicles, Part 3

The Roman Forum

My yearly ritual has begun. That one where I start applying to another school. What will that make this one? School #12. Yes, in total 12, (counting my elementary years, as well...just to clarify). Every year since high school I have either transferred from one school to a different one or have graduated to another level and today I began the process of searching for that next school, the one I'll be going to for the 2012 - ? academic year(s). I'm going to be the next Doctor Grandy! Get ready, UK. The US isn't big enough for multiple Dr. Grandy's. So I'm expanding our territory! But to ensure I'm not setting myself up for a “foot in my mouth” moment, I'm not going to reveal my academic destination. I'll tell you when I've been accepted, how's that for a deal? Letting y'all know this much is all y'all'll get for now.

In the mean time, I'll take a break from the school-related stuff and nonsense and finish up with Part 3 of the Roman Chronicles.

The second day in Rome I woke up with puffy, red eyes that made me look like I had transformed overnight into a 90 year old women, one who spent that night crying until her eyes were swollen shut. Though I suppose if you woke up only to discover you'd aged 66 years in 8 hours you'd be peeved enough to cry, too. Thankfully, my self-consciousness and vanity parted ways and allowed my overwhelming desire to explore a new city take hold.

We met up with Stefania, our guide from the day before, at the site of the ruins of Ancient Rome, the Roman Forum. When you approach from the north you'll see that the ruins are below the ground level of the road. It sits in a small valley between the Palatine and Capitoline Hills. 

 

Railings circle the perimeter of the giant open space that was once a market and meeting place for civilians and politicians alike, the central point of Roman public life. The Forum was once the heart of Ancient Rome and one of the most celebrated meeting places in history. Today, fragments of that history remains.

Each section and plot of land that archeologists are still excavating is roped off, but you can buy a ticket and walk down into the ruins for a closer look.

CLICK FOR A 3D MAP of the ROMAN FORUM

As you pass the ticket booth and descend, there is a church on your right hand side which was covered in scaffolding and netting for restorations. The front part of that church, oddly enough, had been completely buried at one time, intentionally, and a whole other level of the church was discovered underground. A complete exhumation of the lower steps and the front of the church revealed a building far more massive than what was exposed for hundreds of years.

Then you've reached the lower ground level and the site for an unbelievable collection of ancient buildings, some of the most important in Roman history. The earliest shrines and temples, including the House of the Vestal Virgins, arches, basilicas, and the House of Senate all sat here together. Due to the Roman practice of building over other ruins and buildings the space is a bit cluttered and is, quite literally, layered in history. And due to the sheer number of of ruins and the depth of history, facts, and names associated with the Forum I'm only going to show you pictures:

 Archaeologists under the Napoleonic regime marked the beginning of clearing the Forum, which was only fully excavated in the early 20th century.

As you walk down the road the Colosseum will rise up in front of you in the distance. Of all the ancient ruins in Rome this one is probably the most famous due to its recent attentions from Hollywood and its feature in gladiator films. However, this elliptical amphitheater truly is a work of genius and more of a masterpiece than anything that has ever or will ever come out of Hollywood. Of course it's always the Emperors who take credit for the creation of these giant buildings and monuments and arches and basilicas, but in my mind at the time we were at the Colosseum I couldn't help but wonder at the mathematical brilliance the architects must have possessed. And the ability to create a solid structure that's lasted this long using manual labor? Unbelievable. How would you even know where to start, where to lay that first block, and how could you coordinate the workers to do it right? How could it even be made by hand and without mortar? How could they know that interlocking bricks at an angle would prove to be more structurally sound and that the tiers or stadium-type seating wouldn't simply collapse under the weight of 50,000 rowdy people? 

The only reason part of it was destroyed was because an earthquake shook it half to death.

The Colosseum is one of Rome's most popular tourist attractions, receiving millions of visitors annually. The effects of pollution and general deterioration over time prompted a major restoration program carried out between 1993 and 2000, at a cost of $19.3m.

 

We also stopped at the Basilica de Saint Clemente, another example of how Rome built over itself.

Upstairs...

...and Downstairs

See how the ceiling cuts off the top of this fresco? This was the original wall that eventually became the crypt.

One last Michelangelo sighting, his Moses:

Capita Piscium....on the Arch over the Fish Market

And last, the Jewish Quarter and it's ancient fish market along the river. I ran out of photo-storage space on my camera so that's where the pictures stopped, which was unfortunate because we stumbled across a very small set of ruins in one of the squares that was overrun with cats. People couldn't access the level of the ruins below the street but those cats sure could.

The aforementioned fish market arch

All photos, minus the two panoramics, are mine. And just think, there are about 100 more I didn't post!

Libera

I know you're all anxiously awaiting, with bated breath, the third and final installment of my Roman Chronicles. But that is yet to come; soon enough, though. In the mean time, there is an unrelated post I want to write while the inspiring experience that prompted it is still fresh in my mind, less than two hours old, actually.

As those of you who know me with any intimacy are aware, I've kept A List of “Things I Need to Do Before I Die” since I was a young high-schooler. At the ripe, young age of 15 I developed a fear, if you will, of 'not getting everything done before it's too late' and , thus, I felt the need to packed every second of my time with some meaningful activity. It was at this time I started to hate sleeping, for instance...eight hours wasted every night?! Not worth it! One or two hours is plenty, for me...the rest of that time can be spent running!! 

It was also at this transitional point that I started carrying books with at all times me so that there was never an idle moment; I could just whip through a few pages at the first hint of unfilled time. Being the organizational fanatic that I am, as well, you can imagine my need to organize and track all these important activities, to quantify them in some way. A List was in order, A List of those activities and accomplishments. The first List outlined, in a lovely flowing script, 100 goals I decided I needed to accomplish for me to be satisfied at the end, looking back on my life. And I'm happy to say I have moved through that list quite comfortably, (using the original document, still, I might add) and have actually accelerated in my 'goal completion' since my move to London 3 months ago. That relocation, itself, eliminated one of the original 100. And today I crossed off yet another item:

St George's Cathedral

I grew up listening to classical music, predominantly. It's all my parents listened to and during my 12 years of piano lessons that's all I played. My appreciation for classical music is deeper than it is for any other genre (though I'd have to say I prefer alternative indie and punk music these days). Somewhere along the way, during my classical upbringing, I was introduced to a choral group called Libera. I can't, for the life of me, remember how I discovered them. This is distressing, in it's own right, because I never forget anything. Early-onset dementia?...Hmmm, good thing I started keeping lists early, just in case...

Anyway. Seriously, now. Libera: they are an all-boys choir based here, in South London. The boy choir thing is much, much more popular in Europe (and Asia, in this case, oddly enough) than in the US, so my obsession with this group went undiscussed outside my immediate family, entirely. I suppose it's a bit of a niche genre that appeals to fewer people these days than it used to, as well. However, I think boy choirs have the most angelic, pure sound of any other vocal music that exists. Period. And this particular group of English boys that make up the Libera group are the best of them all.

That's why, from day one, seeing Libera perform live was on my List.

And today, I did. I saw them live.

And it blew my mind. I thought their recorded music sounded so pitch-perfect, so coordinated, so in sync that it had to be edited to some degree, at least. No performer, forget a whole group together, can be that unified to sound like every note is originating from a single voice in some magical way. But I swear on my life, this group is that united. These tiny boys, who barely came up to my waist (yes, I stood next to them) have a really, truly, unbelievably flawless sound. And the soprano voices are only seven or eight years old.

Members of the current group I saw today (they get new, younger voices every year or two)

What were YOU doing when you were eight years old?! Probably still playing in a sandbox with your trucks and/or Barbies.

I think part of what I like so much about young male voices (yeah, females just can't even compete vocally) and what, in my opinion, makes the sound superior to trained adult voices, is the fact they're perfectly on pitch without using the vibrato technique and they hit even the highest notes with such accuracy. It's such a distinctive clarity and anyone with any musical/singing experience knows how incredibly difficult that is. And not just that but these boys have mastered dynamics; the crescendos and the delicate floating descants. They punctuate their consonants, carry notes for their full length, and cut off all together in perfect unison...which many adults never do. The can carry multi-part harmonies and sing at admittedly difficult tempos, all memorized. It's really, really incredible. That's all there is to it. 

Libera sings traditional classical and religious music, mostly in Latin, but interestingly their director re-composes these songs (or writes his own music paired with common/traditional text) to make all Libera's music very original, with a slightly new-age twist, from time to time...which doesn't sound like it would be a good thing, to alter the good, old, traditional stuff, especially since “new-age” often has a somewhat negative connotation, but for them it works.

During their sold-out performance tonight, which took place inside St George's Cathedral on the South Bank, the boys were accompanied by live musicians, of course. The conductor also functioned as the pianist. I sat midway up the aisle during the first half, which was a mistake. Small children, likely the same age as those onstage (and clearly not equally disciplined), sat behind me and talked the whole time. Why do parents do that, bring untrained kids out in public to annoy people? Plus, I couldn't see anything in front of me...which (and this will sound weird) gave me the distinct impression I wasn't listening to a live performance BECAUSE they sounded so perfect. So without being able to see the conductor or the movement on stage, their mouths moving, etc., I felt like I was just listening to a CD over loudspeakers. That's why, after the intermission, I moved to the back of the cathedral and stood in a spot where I could see everything, the whole scene. Standing was much better, though I cursed myself for basically “missing out” on the whole first half of the performance. Live and learn.

Vespera by Libera, video

I also have to say I started freezing in that cavernous cathedral, which exacerbated my distracted condition. Curses, Emily. You're smart enough to know you're always cold! Plan ahead!

And they're just cute as can be!

But they only perform in London once a year, apparently, despite the fact all the boys are from South London (not even greater London, aka the rest of the city). Typically their single UK performance is at this cathedral, they said, and its usually around Christmas time. So it was sort of Christmas themed with the addition of songs off their new album, which I hadn't heard before. Not a bad alternative to Black Friday shopping to get in the holiday spirit. And missing a USA Thanksgiving to be here in London the day after to see these guys, not too bad either.

So. Today was a good day.

Michelangelo, his Sistine Chapel and Pieta

As my travel buddy so rightly proclaimed: 'There are few things which live up to expectations after you've heard so much about them and seen photos your whole life. But the Sistine Chapel, despite familiarity, is overwhelming in person; it is awe-inspiring and surpasses expectations.' For me, having studied each panel of that fresco until its shapes, colors, and characters were memorized in order to satisfy an educational requirement, my own expectations were dashed to smithereens when I compared textbook information and history to the artistry and energy of the real thing. When we entered, the cavernous, dark room, though entirely packed with people, was whisper-quiet. Each person's eyes were aimed skyward, drinking in the majesty of the masterpiece surrounding them. 

 

For a really, really good panoramic shot of the whole room (with excellent zoom features) CLICK HERE!!!

Sistine Chapel vertical scheme

Knowing Michelangelo's life story, particularly his resentment of the project, makes this commissioned work of art – his crowning achievement in painting many would argue – that much more fascinating. The barrel vault ceiling was originally painted brilliant-blue and dotted with gold stars until Pope Julius II commissioned a series of paintings in the early 1500s. Although Michelangelo's complex design for the ceiling was not quite what his patron, Pope Julius II, had in mind when he commissioned Michelangelo to paint the Twelve Apostles, the scheme displayed a consistent pattern; God's Creation of the World, God's Relationship with Mankind, and Mankind's Fall from God's Grace. However, this was disrupted by a further commission to Michelangelo to decorate the wall above the altar with The Last Judgement, 1537–1541. The painting of this scene necessitated the obliteration of two episodes from the Lives, several of the Popes and two sets of Ancestors. 

 

The painted area is about 131 ft long by 43 ft wide. This means that Michelangelo painted well over 5,000 square feet of frescoes.

Stefania spoke to us quietly inside the Chapel, and while I new quite a bit about the artist and the art I knew very little of its recent restoration, a project that took nearly as long as the actual creation of the art, itself. “A close examination of the frescoes of the lunettes convinced the restorers that Michelangelo worked exclusively in 'buon fresco'; that is, the artist worked only on freshly laid plaster and each section of work was completed while the plaster was still in its fresh state. In other words, Michelangelo did not work 'a secco'; he did not come back later and add details onto the dry plaster.

Before and After restoration

The restorers, by assuming that the artist took a universal approach to the painting, took a universal approach to the restoration. A decision was made that all of the shadowy layer of animal glue and "lamp black", all of the wax, and all of the overpainted areas were contamination of one sort or another: smoke deposits, earlier restoration attempts, and painted definition by later restorers in an attempt to enliven the appearance of the work. Based on this decision...the chemists of the restoration team decided upon a solvent that would effectively strip the ceiling down to its paint-impregnated plaster. After treatment, only that which was painted 'buon fresco' would remain.”

The difference is extraordinary:

After restoration

<<< Michelangelo's Pieta was just as moving and, given its three dimensions, was astonishingly lifelike. It was placed behind glass in St. Peter's Basilica in first chapel on the right in relation to the main entrance after attempted murder. Yes, this statue was attacked. “The most substantial damage occurred on May 21, 1972 (Pentecost Sunday) when a mentally disturbed geologist named Laszlo Toth walked into the chapel and attacked the sculpture with a geologist's hammer while shouting 'I am Jesus Christ.' Onlookers took many of the pieces of marble that flew off. Later, some pieces were returned, but many were not, including Mary's nose, which had to be reconstructed from a block cut out of her back.” Thankfully, with the help of professional artists she fully recovered. But as a lasting result, no casual viewer can get within 15 or so feet from the pair.

This famous work of art depicts the body of Jesus on the lap of his mother Mary after the Crucifixion. It is the only piece Michelangelo ever signed. Those with a keen eye will notice that the structure is pyramidal, and the vertex coincides with Mary's head. The statue widens progressively down the drapery of Mary's dress, to the base. Though the relationship and placement of the figures seems quite natural, they are grossly out of proportion. This was intentionally done, of course, owing to the difficulty of depicting a fully-grown man cradled full-length in a woman's lap. 

 

Also, Michelangelo's interpretation of the Pieta was far different from those previously created by other artists, as he sculpted a young and beautiful Mary rather than an older woman around 50 years of age. It is thought that he did this, in part, to pay homage to his own mother as well as to suggest incorruptible beauty. The face of the second figure, Christ after The Passion, reveals no sign of the excruciating death he just suffered. Michelangelo did not want his version of The Pieta to represent death, but rather to show the “religious vision of abandonment and a serene face of the Son.”