A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins With ... Too Much Luggage

I'm not sure that I can truly call these three pieces street shrines -- perhaps the second one is the only real shrine because it seems more devotional than the other two.

In any event, I find these works interesting and thanks to Annie, I've been paying much more attention to some of the street art, or shrines, that one sees so often in Italy.

One my first full day in Parma, in early June, I came across two interesting examples. These were very close together, and just to one side of the fascinating Chiesa magistrale della Steccata -- the Church of St Mary of Steccata. (It boasts not only some great art, but has been the site of two -- count 'em, two -- miracle-working images!)

The first piece of street art, shown above, depicts Saint George slaying his dragon. The inscription refers to the "Order of St. Constantine Giorgio" or possibly the Sacred Military Constantinian Order of Saint George, the oldest international Roman Catholic order of chivalry.

According to the legend, the dragon represents a multitude of woes, including the plague (a major preoccupation in Europe throughout the centuries) and of course, sin and hell.

I saw this theme of St. George and the dragon repeated from time to time across the Emilia-Romagna region, in north-central Italy. It actually appears in many places in Italy -- and the world -- and George is the patron saint of Ferrara, an important city in the E-R region.

According to the Golden Legend, St. George met the Dragon, possibly in Libya where the dragon lived in a huge lake and terrorized the population. They fed the dragon sheep until these ran out, then they offered their children, chosen by lottery. Finally, it came the turn of the King's daughter, who caught the eye of St. George. He seriously wounded the dragon to halt the attack, and then George also offered to protect the people by destroying the beast, if they all converted to Christianity.

So, I imagine that this Parma shrine to George was intended as protection against plagues, demons, sins and other related woes.

The second, nearby shrine is to the Madonna and child and is only steps away from St. George of Parma.

This final piece of art, which I found in medieval Bologna, caught my eye. It sits in an arch above the back entrance to the ex-chiesa di San Giobbe, or former church of Job, which dates to the 15th century when it also served as a hospital. It has now been turned into an airy shopping and business arcade.

I've not only been a pretty slack blogger, but I'm becoming a whining blogger as well! In my defence, I've been in a lot of pain -- emotional, of course, because I had to leave Italy on Wednesday. But physical as well, as my tooth crisis has become pretty ugly.

It seems that what happened is that an old root canal has gone bad and created a raging infection in one tooth (although it feels as if my entire head has caught fire.) Next Tuesday, the root canal will be repeated and what joy that will bring. Seriously. Anything to end this ugly chapter.

I've actually been hugely fortunate, when you think about it. The pain didn't begin until my last night in my beloved Umbria, really just two nights before I was returning to Canada anyway. My dentist saw me the morning after I returned (I was up at the crack of dawn -- amazing how pain can cut right through jet lag) and she was able to get me in to see an endodontist almost immediately. So, treatment has been pretty quick.

Between the pain and my experiments with Italian OTC medications, I was pretty ill by Wednesday night. Fortunately, I had an entire row of seats to myself on the flight back, so I could sprawl in some comfort and pop painkillers nonstop. Thanks to Shelagh and Chiocciola, who commented on an earlier post explaining that Italian Panadol is akin to Tylenol. It isn't very strong, but a few boxes worth got me through the last day or two in Italy.

Unfortunately, I did find the Italian version of Advil and also confirmed that I am, in fact, allergic to Advil (and its Italian counterpart.) I spent the night before my flight home horribly congested, wheezy and sneezing my head off. But it did stop the tooth pain.

I am finding it hard to concentrate on much else right now, but once the fog clears, there are so many wonderful experiences from Italy that I'm anxious to blog about. Here are just a few things I'd like to write about, soon:

1. Bologna is an interesting city, and the medieval museum very cool and boasts some remarkable medieval tombs of its greatest university doctors, or docents. My photo above is from a tomb that had wonderful representations of this docent's students, in positions and gestures that ring so true! I gather that this was one of the conventions of the day, that great professors would be honoured with beautifully carved tombs depicting the docent and his students, in forms as life-like as possible!

2. My visits to Padova and Venice were wonderful, even if only for a day.

3. My night at the opera in Bologna, surrounded by highly critical (and highly vocal) opera buffs who had very strong feelings about the performance -- and refused to believe that I couldn't really join in their ongoing, Italian conversations.

4. Another fascinating cooking class in Umbria with Letizia.

5. A beautiful, and far too short, visit with Mary and her family at Genius Loci.

6. A very cool and incredibly atmospheric medieval festival in Bevagna.

7. Shopping for more wonderful ceramics and tapestries in Umbria! True works of art that I'm so privileged to have found.

I'm afraid I've been an absentee blogger for the past several days -- I've been in my beloved Umbria and have had a fantastic time there. I couldn't find an Internet point (although I didn't try very hard -- I was too busy buying new tapestries, ceramics and soaking up the fantastic atmosphere there!)

Alas, I've run out of money and so I have to return to the work-a-day world. Plus, I seem to have cracked a tooth and am in incredible pain, so I'll be making a beeline for my dentist Thursday morning.

I'm now here in Rome, making a quick Internet stop. I consulted a pharmacist here who assured me a painkiller called Panadol is identical to North America's Advil and won't trigger my asthma (as almost all painkillers do.)

If she is wrong and this is my last blog post, I want to be cremated with my new ceramics! (Okay, that wasn't very funny But I am in a lot of pain.)

I've collected so much great blog material and photos to use in the coming days, that I don't dare quit the blogging world just yet!

More to come......

I was utterly dazzled last night by Giotto's remarkable frescos in Padova's Scrovegni Chapel, an absolute jewel box of fantastic art.

I am also feeling a bit dazed by everything that I have crammed into the past several days (Slow Travel, this isn't!) Certainly, my wonderful Saturday in Venice deserves a post of its own, including photos of several shrines that I saw during the day -- inspired, of course, by Annie!

But I'm going to jump ahead of that to Tuesday evening -- I'm playing fast and loose with Time, because Time is playing fast and loose with me. Seriously, at some points, I'm feeling a bit confused about what century this is, when I'm surrounded by so much medieval art and its stories and conventions. Some are repeated so often that I'm expecting to run into Saint Sebastian or John the Baptist at any moment. At the very least, here in Ferrara, I'd expect to see one of the Estes!

But viewing Giotto's Padova frescos describing the lives of Mary and her son Jesus was an incredible experience. The brilliant colours of these frescos are still so fresh, it seems to me, and the characters seem so simply painted yet convey so much emotion that I was truly gobsmacked (BTW, I have a patent pending on the use of that word.)

The double-turn entry ticket that I booked in advance worked brilliantly -- it gave me a full 40 minutes inside the small chapel, because the regular 15 or minutes simply wouldn't be enough time. The double-turn is only available after 7 p.m., which was a great advantage as only a few others entered at the same time as me. We rushed around like fools for the first 5 or 10 minutes, trying to see everything at once for fear we would run out of time! I calmed down fairly quickly, however, since I knew I had the luxury of a bit extra time. Alas, I can no longer move my neck from all of the craning, but it was worth it!

Rules for visiting the Scrovegni Chapel are very, very strict: pre-booking is mandatory and most tickets allow only a 15-minute visit. (This, after a full 15 minutes in a kind of decontamination room, where the air-conditioning presumably cools your body's temperature, important to prevent hordes of hot, humid visitors like me from scorching Giotto's frescos right off the walls.)

Before my visit, I worried a bit about the lighting in the evening in the chapel. But it was beautifully lit artificially, and as a bonus, the setting sun shone throught a high, west-facing window to light up a gold halos around a dazzling Christ!

This evening was one of the highlights of my trip. I really admire Giotto's work and have made several visits to San Francesco in Assisi to see what may (or may not) be his work. It seems there is some question about how much of the design and work there is really his. I chose to believe Giotto was an important force in Assisi and I think that's supported by just how similar his work in Assisi is to that in the Scrovegni chapel.

Before this trip, I had watched Sister Wendy Beckett's Story of Painting, a DVD produced for the BBC, where she discusses the Scrovegni chapel and Giotto's efforts to capture the humanity of the people in his scenes.

She argues that while other artists of the time had loftier aims, often portraying the Holy Family or saints as being far above the rest of us, Giotto tried to portray them in his frescos as real humans with real emotions. In this way, the people of Padua and their visitors could relate to what they were seeing, for example, the pain Mary must have suffered as she cradled her dead son as portrayed in the above fresco of the Lamentation (The Mourning of Christ.)

Giotto's frescos date back about 700 years, which boggles my mind! Work on this chapel began in roughly 1300 when Enrico Scrovegni of Padua, wanting to build a palace and private chapel, bought a large piece of land in the area around the town's Roman amphitheatre -- known as the Arena. Which helps to explain why the word "Arena" is often associated with the Scrovegni chapel.

It seems that Scrovegni wanted to improve his family's standing with The Powers That Be -- Enrico was the ambitious son of the rich Reginaldo, whom Dante Alighieri had consigned to hell as a usurer in his Divine Comedy.The redemption of his father and the saving of his own soul were his foremost considerations when making this donation. The church was therefore dedicated on 16 March 1305 to Saint Mary of Charity.

All that remains today of his buildings is the single-nave church, known to many as the Arena Chapel because of its location. Scrovegni -- as well as Dante and Giotto himself -- are depicted in one of Giotto's frescoes, on the side of the Blessed at the Last Judgment.

The nave of the church is vaulted by a starry sky with the two centres of Christ and Mary, the Last Judgment in the west and the Annunciation in the east, witnessed by God. The story of Mary is narrated on the upper register of the walls - beginning with scenes from the lives of her parents, Joachim and Anne - and the youth of Christ and the story of his Passion are narrated on the two lower registers.

The frescoes in the Arena Chapel have been considered as Giotto's first mature masterpiece, and at the same time as an important milestone in the development of western painting.

The museum complex built up around the chapel includes a very interesting multi-media centre, including a film on the chapel (an extended version, I believe, of the film shown while visitors wait in the decontamination centre,) There are also several interactive applications that let you zoom in on particular works, to see these more clearly and read a better explanation of what they mean.

Today is my last day in the Emilia-Romagna region, and in Ferrara specifically. Which may be a good thing -- directly outside my hotel balcony, on Ferrara's beautiful Piazza Castello, hordes of workers have been setting up a huge stage for a major musical production Thursday night. With the stage so close I can touch it from my bedroom, I think it's time to get out of town!

Happily, by Thursday afternoon I'll be in Umbria!!!!

....to climb the 4 kilometres up, up, up to the Sanctuary of the Madonna of San Luca! This was one tough climb up the Colle, or Monte dell Guardia, even though I was shaded from the sizzling sun by the 666 porticos covering the steps up!

For centuries, pilgrims have made the journey, seeking a miracle from the venerated Black Madonna -- an icon attributed to St. Luke, according to one legend -- which is housed in the beautiful and peaceful Sanctuary church.

Apparently, a church or chapel of some kind existed atop the hill for about a thousand years (which is roughly how long it took me to reach the top!) Okay, it wasn't that bad. But I started out cranky, as it took almost an hour to walk from my hotel to the foot of the hill and the beginnings of the porticos.

Then, the walk turned out to be really steep -- I knew it would be a bit of a grunt, but Oh My God. This was steep. Worse, an elderly man was gaining on me the entire way up and, being obsessively competitive, I couldn't allow him to pass me.

I prayed every step of the way for the strength to not try and trip him, or strangle the two young women who dared to eventually pass me near the top. I caught up with them inside the church, constructed in 1723, and glared at them until they left. Then, I could enjoy the miraculous Black Madonna and art works including paintings by Guido Reni (a local boy who has an entire room devoted to him in Bologna's very good Pinacoteca Nazionale, which I visited Sunday.)

In reality (a site I don't enjoy), the walk up only took about an hour -- and several gallons of sweat. And the views were gorgeous. And I didn't hurt anyone, so all in all, it was an excellent morning.

I rewarded myself with a great lunch back at the bottom, at Trattoria Meloncello where I had two glasses of wine (after all, I WAS dehydrated) a fantastic plate of homemade tortelloni with a ragu sauce, a nice serving of grilled vegetables and because I was drunk by this point, homemade semifreddo.