So, I guess this is Goodbye :')

Ciao! Güle güle! Adios! Tchau! Bye!

Last post, y'all.

See below for my final projects for my Art History course I took this summer with Professor Lisa Schultz (sorry Lisa -- hope you don't mind scrolling down a bit for grading!). Everyone post nice comments so she gives me a high score. :)

The projects are: a research essay -- She Catches Your Eye: The Madonnelles and their Impact on the Everyday Life of a Roman; and a photo essay -- One Country’s Trash Is Another’s Culture: Images of Trash Collection in Istanbul and Rome, and their Implications.

I've been back in the US of A a good week and a half. Below is a short list of things I had forgotten in my time away:

1) Northwest weather is confusing. It rains on me even when I am actually brave enough to pull out my Rome skirt. :(

2) My mom cooks a lot better than I do. Like a lot.

3) TV! NOVELS! BOOK STORES! MOVIE THEATERS!

4) My cousin Wesley leaves for Italy in just a few short days! WESLEY TAKE ME WITH YOUUU

5) My good ole Macbook laptop (which I left at home for fear of European travel damage) has a keyboard much larger than the one I borrowed from the Honors program. And is much sexier. <3! I missed you, baby!

6) I rather like it here.

And last, but not least:

7) Missed you.

:)

One Country's Trash is Another's Culture (Art History Photo Essay 2010)

Rome Summer 2010: Photo Comparison, Prof Lisa Schultz

One Country’s Trash Is Another’s Culture: Images of Trash Collection in Istanbul and Rome, and their Implications

I first heard them as I sat in the Rome Center’s student lounge, the open window behind me overlooking the Campo de Fiori. The market was closing up for the afternoon, and the sounds of closing umbrellas and chattering cashiers was being replaced by... engines? The roar of two, maybe three poured in through the open window, amidst the rushing of large, motorized brushes and the scraping of metal tools on the cobblestones. I stood from my computer chair, and stuck my head out the window. At least five orange-clad garbage soldiers were well at work cleaning up the Campo for the evening’s activities.

Trash cleanup in the Campo de Fiori, Rome, Italy

The garbage cleanup of the Campo de Fiori around 4:00pm every day (and reportedly 4:00am every day, post-nocturnal trash-making), became a noticeable part of my time in Rome. The smell of the market’s piled refuse was often what first greeted us after class in the Rome Center. Many afternoons we retreated to Magnolia Café, stepping over heaps of trash and moldering vegetables to get to a cool café latte freddo and a break from the smell and noise.

At first the contrast seemed starkly against the grain of American trash philosophy; our cities are filled with convenient trashcans every twenty feet, and garbage men are usually heard, not seen, often before the crack of dawn. We put our own trash in garbage cans, giving an appearance of more independence from the trash collection system, as if our society wouldn’t come crumbling down if they ever went on strike. Yet Italy’s dependence on their trash men could hardly be more obvious and literally, out in the open. Without the clockwork of trash cleanup (not just pickup) twice a day, the Campo, at least, would quickly descend into fetid squalor. This open-aired reliance on garbage men can also be seen in the respect given to such service people; Lisa once told us that a garbage man or barista had just as much career respect as an engineer. This fit a pattern that I noticed and was taught about time and time again within Italian culture: an inefficient, time consuming, and slow paced process, that is also built upon tradition and respect.

While this was in strong contrast to American garbage processes, it was starkly contrasted with the Turkish maintenance systems in Istanbul. In public areas, trashcans stood nearly every five feet. They were obvious, numerous, and clearly meant to be utilized by the individual. No team of expert collectors would be coming around twice every day to spend a half hour cleaning up after you; instead, maintenance relied on your work. Perhaps twice over the entire trip I saw a garbage man (only ever one at a time), not cleaning, but merely emptying the cans, or pouring the dumpsters into his truck. I felt this embodied a pattern that could be seen in Istanbul: it is a modern city, built not on age-old traditions but instead on efficient systems, that work only really when the individual, rather than the government drives them. Kind of a free capitalist vibe I thought.

A trash can in the historic district of Istanbul, Turkey

These contrasting philosophies did not keep there from being some similarities to the trash systems, though the majority was visual. The bright orange color followed us from Italy to Turkey, as did the tourists who hungrily looked every which way for a place to stash their ice cream cone nubs (and in Istanbul, they actually found one!). By examining this facet of the European cultures, I felt I had found a unique way to view a deeply important part of life within both cities. In doing so, I noticed not just less trash men or more cans, but also a contrasting philosophy – one that I used as a lens to examine larger details of each country (their economies, their immigration, and lifestyles), and to help myself find a place to toss a pizza napkin or two.

She Catches Your Eye: The Madonnelles and their Impact on the Everyday Life of a Roman

She Catches Your Eye: The Madonnelles and their Impact on the Everyday Life of a Roman

[culminating essay for Art History, Rome Summer 2010, Professor Lisa Schultz]

A small madonnelle in the Campo de Fiori

I. Madonnelles – An Introduction

If you happen to cast a glance above eye level as you wander around the streets of historic Rome, you cannot miss her. Often seen in a half-bust, she is gazing down into your eyes or off into the distance, cradling her Christ Child in her arms. She is present in near ubiquitous public imagery, and she protects us with her merciful gaze today, just as she did for Rome's medieval and Renaissance people centuries ago.

She is the Virgin Mary, present in madonnelle street shrine form. The majority of those you view today are survivors from the Renaissance, the time period in which the madonnelles proliferated. But the origins of street shrines within Roman culture began much earlier than that. Prior to both the rise of the Cult of the Virgin, and the rise of Christianity, sacred public imagery was a part of everyday life in ancient Rome. Standing at crossroads within the city, painted or sculpted images of deities were used as a centerpiece for an ancient neighborhood or piazza, and provided an oasis of a fountain, shade, or seating to weary travelers or citizens. The deities depicted were public forms of lares, Roman household gods that offered protection and a connection with the deceased. They were thought to give protection at the crossroads where they stood. The early shrines were known as lares compita: lares being the name for the shown spirits, and compitum referring to their location at crossroads.

Even in early times, sacred public images were noticed by those in power – not for their artistry or communal aspects, but instead for the power their ubiquity could wield. During Augustus' reign, for example, he replaced the lares of the people with that of his own ancestors – in one move demonstrating his religiousness as well as increasing his influence over the people. By taking control of such a popular and integral part of ancient Roman life, Augustus was able to claim power over the people and still avoid offending them. Perhaps he even gained further authority in aligning himself with the lares compita's message of protection. Such power of public imagery is discovered again later in Rome's history, not by an emperor but instead the Catholic Church of the Renaissance.

As Rome transformed through time and into a Christian city, the street shrines transformed as well. Public imagery during this time period was often utilized on city gates and walls, as the Italian city-state developed and protection once again became a constant worry. On the walls could be fierce and intimidating depictions of figures warding off attackers or invaders. Or the city's patron saints could be welcoming visitors within the walls, and reinforcing the city's tie with religion.

The first images of the Virgin also began to appear during this time – but she was not out intimidating enemies on the city gates. Instead, she was inside, developing as a figure of comfort. She was meant to comfort both citizens and visitors, acting as a familiar image with which the everyday person could connect and feel close to. It is this period of time that found Mary popping up on facades for buildings and churches. The Marian church S. Maria in Trastevere was a likely location for some of the first sacred public images of her to have been placed, as one of the first churches devoted to the Virgin. There still stand two empty tabernacles, once possibly used to protect public images of Mary, and thus the first madonnelles.

One of the back walls of S. Maria in Trastevere: two empty tabernacles thought to have held early madonnelles

With the onset of the Renaissance, the cult of the Virgin gained popularity and the number of madonnelles skyrocketed. It is impossible to know the history, patronage, and creators of each or truly any madonnelle, as they were such a quiet part of life that there remains little that documents them from this time period. However, we know that what was once a relatively minor number of street shrines, rose to the thousands.

As the madonnelles rose in number and as the times turned to sour conflict, the Roman people turned to the Madonna as a source of comfort and miracles during the Renaissance. The fifteenth and sixteenth centuries were times of conflict for the Church: as the Reformation progressed so did the desperate scramble for power. The people, confused and afraid, turned to the street shrines for more than just a kind face to smile down upon them. Instead, the madonnelles took on stronger duties than she had previously held; she was more important to worship, and became a funnel for devotion and personal access to the ecclesiastical. Madonnelles were constructed by rich Roman patrons that hoped for attention from the people; but the actual care, maintenance, and devotion of the madonnelles came from the people themselves. Those most in need of security turned to her for protection.

Within this environment, the madonnelles of Rome began performing miracles. The examples vary in degree and over time, but two main personalities Madonnas became apparent: the active madonnelle personality and the passive one. An active madonnelle took away the feeling in the arm of a man when he struck her face with a bowling ball; the use of his arm did not return until he repented. The passive Madonna, however, was often seen crying or bleeding if something struck her, or she was witness to something sad.

Such miraculous events drew, of course, attention from the Church. In its struggle to retain power and control over the questioning and rebelling people of the Renaissance, the Church saw the madonnelles as a source to regain some of that rogue devotion. And so, certain miraculous madonnelles were brought indoors, away from the wear of the elements, but also from the people who wanted her close. They were literally taken down off the walls where they were publically displayed and instead kept captive, brought out when the Church decreed on certain holidays or times of the week. The symbols of the personal and free connection to the Holy were trapped and confined.

However, this protection from the elements also gave us many of the oldest madonnelles we see today, preserved and revered as relics for centuries. The still public madonnelles that currently watch over the streets have Rome received much attention recently; each was cared for, restored, and often inscribed within recent years, perhaps as a symbol of Rome’s lasting devotion to the Madonna, and the guidance she has offered the Roman people.

II. The Figure of the Madonna – A Physical Description

The figures of the Madonna present above the streets of Rome vary as much as the citizens that erected them. Despite this, stylistic similarities can be noted. The Madonna often is viewed as a bust, even if painted or carved. She is depicted with the Child Jesus, in order to invoke feelings of motherliness and protection.

Her eye line is a notably important aspect of the madonnelle design. The Madonna is often either looking into the eyes of her child, or into the distance at the viewer. As she looks at the child, an emphasis is placed on her motherliness, reminding the viewer of her place in the religious canon. As the Madonna gazes out of her portrait, she engages the viewer below her, drawing their eyes to her and offering herself as a real, public connection within a religion based upon rules and restriction.

The material most popularly used to construct the madonnelles during the Renaissance period was fresco. This was not, however, a result of the artistic capabilities offered by fresco; in fact, the plaster used was poorly designed to weather the elements and help the madonnelles survive over long periods of time. Instead, fresco was a cheap and efficient medium, easy to slap up upon a wall at a low cost for a patron.

However, throughout the ages of madonnelle construction, other mediums have been employed, often for different effect, beauty, or even possibly convenience. Examples seen simply near to the UW Rome Center alone are: mosaic with gold gilt, painted, sculpted or decorated with ornate sculpture. Traditionally madonnelles decorated pilgrimages along with shrines to other saints or deities. This can be noted on the pilgrim’s walk to St. Peter’s basilica.

A madonnelle in Piazza Farnese with a fresco medium

A madonnelle in Piazza Farnese with ornately sculpted decor

A madonnelle in Piazza Farnese with mosaic medium and gold gilt

III. Who She was to the People -- The Function of the Madonnelle

The madonnelle functioned much differently than other examples of public imagery at the time. For example, when it was a part of an Italian city-state, Rome had the image of the archangel Michael on its gates, to frighten and intimidate any possible enemies. But Mary was not carved up there with Michael to greet dangerous invaders; instead she resided within the gates, greeting welcomed visitors, or weary Romans returning home. She was not present on the exterior of the Roman gates as the Madonna was meant to function less as a warrior, and instead connect on a personal level, acting as comfort.

But her main message was that of protection and intimacy. Often the only ancient outdoor Roman lighting available were lanterns that kept her face lit at night; imagine each pool of light on a dark Roman street being watched over by the Virgin herself. Such practicality worked to the advantage of the artist, who hoped for his madonnelle to catch the attention of the passing visitor; this was sometimes achieved with a unique positioning, design, lighting, or even an inscription asking the viewer to send a prayer for the Virgin present.

A madonnelle in Piazza de S. Salvatore in Campo, whose loosely inscription reads:

"They placed in me protection, guardianship"

"Dignity and fame all to God"

IV. The Concerns of the Madonnelle – How the Madonna Addresses the Patrons’ Agenda

The patron was often rich or powerful – yet the madonnelle would not have been created for him. It was for the neighborhood and community she watched over, and it was them who took care of her.

In a way, the madonnelle is concerned with all four of the different motivations that could influence a patron: personal, religious, social, and political. Her purpose was to make a personal connection with a simple civilian of Rome, bringing them intimately closer to religion, and providing a social basis for a community to grow over. Yet she was also used for political purposes, as seen by the Church’s interest in the miraculous. This particular form was excellent for all four purposes: her location and proximity bringing her closer to the people; her excessive number and mobility making it easy to take her away in the Church’s play for power.

Power that the Church most desperately needed during the time of the madonnelles’ greatest popularity: the Renaissance. This time period threw many things into upheaval, foremost being the Church’s hold on its people. The state of Roman society was in conflict when the Madonna was seen the most on Roman walls, influencing the need for the great number of her, and for the Church’s move of the miraculous madonnelles indoors.

V. She Still Watches Us Today – Conclusions After an Examination of the Madonnelles

She is still invokes intimacy, she still protects, and she still can draw a passerby’s eye by merely watching. She is still used as a source of comfort in complicated times; it can be seen in the devotion represented by tiny notes at her feet, tucked into crevices, written on the wall, or symbolized by a now dried rose. Late eighteenth century tourists and visitors to Rome were the first to note her significance; she has only relatively recently gained attention in the art history world, after her many years so commonplace in the everyday Roman life. The recent restorative movement claims her place in Roman significance.

La Madonna del Divino Amore – with dried roses left as an offering

Continuity can be found within the iconography that translates across time; a Medieval madonnelle can be just as comforting and influential as a current one. Her face still watches over many streets within Rome, and noted shrines are still lit at night. A street near Campo de Fiori claims its name from her: Viccolo della Madonella. Within the Campo de Fiori itself there are at least three madonnelles, and three more in the neighboring Piazza Farnese. We still look to her and find her interesting today, because she is still looking and comforting us today.

VI. My Own Surprise

I first grew interested in the madonnelles because of their seeming obscurity. I had never heard of them before, and certainly never identified the Virgin Mary as being a central part of Roman life (despite her focus in the Catholic church). So my initial surprise was when I stepped out of the taxi in Piazza della Biscione, and immediately caught sight of her looking down from the opposite building. There she was. And as I explored Rome in the ensuing weeks, I realized that the madonnelles truly were everywhere. Even in the piazza where I lived, I spotted at least three different madonnelles: she was there waiting for me at the end of every day.

One of my favorite days I remember in Rome was when we visited St. Peter’s Basilica – I was delighted by the many madonnelles we saw as we retraced the steps of the pilgrimage. I had already numbed everyone else to the idea of a madonnelle sighting by shouting out, “Look! Another one!” whenever we passed a new shrine. But for me, seeing new madonnelles on that walk to St. Peter’s was like meeting new friends, ones who were with me everywhere on my Roman adventures. Later that day, I spent the afternoon wandering around Trastevere, finding more madonnelles and photographing them for this project. I revisited S. Maria’s in Trastevere, just to find the remnants of medieval shrines mentioned in one of my resources, and ended up staying an hour within the church.

An image of the Madonna on the bell tower of S. Maria in Trastevere

On my way back to the Rome Center for a group meeting, I purposefully got myself lost in the side streets, discovering new madonnelles who I had only been a viccolo away from the past four weeks. The discovery and independence of that walk is one of my favorite memories of Rome.

So I suppose I was surprised by the connection I felt with the Virgin Mary, and with the madonnelles. All the charms of the intimacy, protection, and guidance she offered easily worked their magic on me; I am so thankful that the madonnelles were such a central part of my art history studies in the Rome program. They became a central part of my entire adventure.

WORKS CITED

Author: Abbey, Molly

Title: Miraculous Public Imagery of the Virgin in Renaissance Rome

Media: University of Washington Master of the Arts Thesis

Publisher: Art History

Date: 2004

Author: Korn, Frank J.

Title: A Catholic’s Guide to Rome: Discovering the Soul of the Eternal City.

Media: Resource Book

Publisher: Paulist Press

Date: 2000

Author: Muir, Edward

Title: The Virgin on the Street Corner: The Place of the Sacred in Italian Cities

Media: Book

Originally Published within: The Italian Renaissance: The Essential Readings

Date: 2002

Author: Pardue, Candice

Page Title: Life in Italy During the Renaissance

Media: Website

URL: http://www.lifeinitaly.com/history/italy-renaissance

Date: 20 April 2010

Author: Piperno, Roberto

Page Title: Little Madonnas

Media: Website

URL: http://www.romeartlover.it/Madonne.html

Date Visited: 13 July 2010

Author: “Travel Guides”

Page Title: Madonnelle romane Rome, Italy

Media: AOL Website

URL: http://travel.aol.com/travel-guide/Madonnelle+romane-Rome-attractions--Italy:10:10590

Date Visited: 13 July 2010