Journal 2, Hum 225: The Rape of the Sabine Women and Bust of Medusa

One of the most interesting pieces from last week was The Rape of the Sabine Women, which is located in the Conservators' Apartment  of the Capitoline Museum in the Hall of the Horatii and Curiatii.  From a historical standpoint, the legend associated with this painting would suggest that Rome was not always founded on the most noble of terms.  The legend about the abduction and rape of the Sabine women leads us to the conclusion that great cities are not always founded on great morals.  

The fresco is located next to other frescoes of ancient Rome, such as Finding of the She-Wolf with Romolus (sic) and Romulus Traces the Boundaries of Rome (museicapitolini.org).  The Rape of the Sabine Women was created 1635-1636 C.E. by Giuseppe Cesari, also known as Cavalier d'Arpino.  Legend tells us that the newly-found Rome was in desperate need of women to populate the young city.  Neighbors were invited for a grand feast, and they were expressly told to bring daughers and sisters (Blue Guide 58).  Their men were occupied with games, and the women were locked up on the Capitoline Hill (59).  However, the Roman who was given the key, Tarpeia, opened the doors to the Sabine men.  Even though it was in their favor, the Sabines despised the fact that she betrayed her country.  They subsequently killed her.  

The depiction above concerns the actual raping of the Sabine women.  It struck me as disgusting that a country that was so great and still is a world power could have started from such low morals.  However, as I learn more about ancient Rome through my other classes, I realize that many evil and cruel things were hidden in the underbelly of Rome's allure.  For example, thousands of people and animals were killed in the Colosseum, and the Romans sequestered the Jews into ghettoes.  I look forward to finding out the little-known side of Roman history, one in which Rome continually acts against morals, even if it is slightly disturbing.      

http://en.museicapitolini.org/percorsi/percorsi_per_sale/appartamento_dei_conservatori/sala_degli_orazi_e_curiazi

 

Another piece that amazed me was the bust of Medusa by Gian Lorenzo Bernini from the Conservators' Apartment in the Hall of the Geese.  This picture came in a little squished, but you can see that she has snakelike hair and an anguished face.  I thought this picture is significant historically because she was one of the first to be portrayed with passion and emotion.

This is an example, according to our guide, of the Baroque movement in the fifth decade of the 17th century (museicapitolini.org).  Greeks would have sculpted Medusa as perfect and calm, but Bernini chose to express her true emotions.  It's made of white marble with the dimensions 50 x 41 x 38 centimeters.  Medusa's passion can be traced to the legends and stories about her.  In this way the iconology can help us to evaluate this piece.  In Ovid's Metamorphosis, Medusa is the most deadly, and at the same time, most beautiful of the Gorgons.  These feminine creatures were monstrous and could turn anyone who looked into their eyes into stone.  Medusa gets her snakelike hair in this bust from one of Ovid's myths: Minerva is said to have transformed Medusa's gorgeous blonde hair into ugly snakes because Medusa had intercourse with Neptune in a temple. 

Though she has a beautiful face, Medusa realizes what is happening to her and that moment is captured in stone: "the writhing serpents in her hair paralyse and her expression of pain and anguish are forever captured in marble" (museicapitoloni.org).  This expression of pain makes the piece stand out in comparison with the many other busts that I saw in the Capitoline Museum.  Without this critical piece of Bernini's work, art would have probably moved less easily from Greek classicism to the Baroque style, in my opinion.  This Baroque style is preferable to me because it can include the passions of human emotion.     

http://en.museicapitolini.org/museo/restauri/restauro_del_busto_di_medusa_di_gian_lorenzo_bernini

"Simply Letting Yourself Live is Beautiful in Italy"

The history of Rome, according to British Journalist H.V. Morton, is both “exhilarating and oppressive for the traveler.” What ways have you found Rome exhilarating and oppressive?

    In a way, I have found Rome to be oppressive in some ways that directly contradict all the ways that I had found Rome to be exhilarating in my previous entry.  Rome, as my new home, heightened my senses through the beauty of the language that I want so badly to speak, and the village atmosphere of Castel Gandolfo charmed me.  I felt as if I were walking in a dream, and a dizzy one at that.  Things that I had been told about Italy I found to be true for myself.  I immediately wanted to immerse myself in this country.

    However, this week I have found Rome to be somewhat oppressive.  It's as if last week was indeed the dream, and this week I've woken up.  And I'm 4,000 miles from home.  I am divided, because the Italy that had so befriended me last week has now betrayed me.  Just as I am attaching to this new home, I am reminded of the first.  What about my mom, and my friends back home?  Where can I find a place here, and how can I bring them with me?

   Natalia Ginzburg explains that, after living in a new city as an adult for some time, one feels indifference or anger towards it, but these feelings are not necessarily all bad.  She says that these feelings are, "no different from the feelings inspired by people, when a prolonged and daily habit of living together has streaked our love with intolerance and anger" (Cahill 270).  She goes on to say that this anger does not replace the love we once had for that person; merely it has "grown over the love like lichen" (Cahill 270).  She says that these negative feelings, combined with initial love, make for a stronger relationship with these people.  Similarly, I believe my fairytale love for Italy couldn't have lasted.  I must love it even though I see it's faults. The main fault for me is communication.  I long, more than I predicted, to hear often the voices of the people that ground me in who I am.   

    Luigi Barzini asserts that everybody in Italy seems to be doing his or her duty with wholeheartedness (Barzini 70).  With enthusiasm, everyone performs their tasks of the day, whether it be working, performing, or the like.  Barzini notes that this satsifaction with their lot in life yields the hypothesis that "everybody, no matter how humble, degrading, or insignificant his position, has, after all, a dignity all his own" (Barzini 70).  This dignity refers to the person with a clear conscience who is not jealous of others.  If you have found comfort in your position in life, you are clearly grounded.  Just as the Italians assume their positions in life with dignity and equinamity, so I must find a specific place for myself in this new home, Italy. 

  Somewhere between the history of mankind, as exemplified by symbols such as the broken Constantine statue and the Colosseum, and the history of my family, which is deep in me, I have to find the present of myself.  Unlike Ovid, I am not on a passeggiata towards exile, but away from it (Cahill 44).

   In Chapter 3, Barzini notes that there are a myriad of reasons that people come to Italy.  However, many of those reasons, such as religion, living richly, beautiful art, fine food, and la dolce vita could be found in other countries as well.  Italy has a distinct quality that can be summed up as the beauty of "letting yourself live" (Barzini 55).  Past the oppressive confines of my ties to home, and into the world that is not always dreamlike, but always I love, I must simply live.

Post 1- Art and Culture of Rome

First Piece of Art: The Conversion of St. Paul

This painting is one of the coolest pieces of art I have seen thus far. I didn’t take this one, because it was on a side wall of the church Santa Maria del Popolo. This is Caravaggio’s The Conversion of St. Paul (1600-01). It is about 5 or 6 feet wide and around 8 feet high.


I would like to approach this essay through the lenses of iconology and iconography. Firstly, the conversion of St. Paul on the road to Damascus is an interesting story from the Christian Bible, Acts 9. Paul was previously known as Saul, and he persecuted many Christians. Saul was traveling by horse when he saw a light flash from the sky and God’s voice asked why he was persecuting him. He fell off his horse and was blinded. He could not see for three days, until he was brought to Ananias, who healed him. Paul converted to Christianity, and many of his Epistles are in the Bible.

There are many other portrayals of the conversion of Paul, but Caravaggio’s is unique in its symbolism and iconography. The thing that most clearly jumps out to me is the play with light. The horse is bright white, which reflects the light that seems to come from the sky. The light represents God’s goodness and power. There is some light also on Paul himself as he lays face-up on the ground. The ambivalence of his body between light and dark indicates that this is a turning point. Darkness surrounds other areas of the painting, representing the evilness of Saul’s previous life of persecution. However, Paul is rejecting that darkness; though his eyes are closed to represent blindness, his arms are stretched towards the light. Another man is taking off what appears to be shackles from his wrists. Paul has clearly chosen to accept God’s new plan for his life.

This painting affects me because it is a powerful portrayal of a story that I had always loved. No matter how far you’ve strayed from God’s ways, there is always a chance for repentance and conversion of heart.


Picture citation: (richleonardi.blogspot.com/2010/03/caravaggios...)

Second Piece of Art:

I also want to write about the magnificent Spanish Steps, located in the Piazza di Spagna just east of the Piazza del Popolo.  The Spanish Steps, by Francesco de Sanctis, provide a rest for aching feet, a meeting place for friends, and beautiful decoration of the city. 

From a historical standpoint, the Spanish Steps give us a clue about the 18th century Roman sociological viewpoints.  From the massive amounts of fountains, piazzes, and caffes, I have observed that Romans enjoy coming together.   I believe that The Italians mentioned that even modern Italians do not worry much about decorating their houses, because they have their city to spend their time in.  I believe that the city was as much of a meeting place then as it is now.  It is a way to connect with other people.  Just as the city is a way to connect with other people, the Spagna Scala were built 1723-1726 to connect the piazza with the church of the Trinity dei Monti and the Pincio.  The Blue Guide calls them "a masterpiece of town planning."

The Spanish Steps can be viewed through this sociological lens to understand ways of life in 18th century Italy.  Because the Italians enjoyed being out and socializing, the steps were a crucial gathering place.  Today, you can see many people still using the steps for this reason, Italians and tourists alike, who want to honor this tradition and keep it alive.  In my opinion, go for it.  Get off technology, enjoy creation, and simply be with people. 

Stories and Traditions Journal 1

How has your class in the morning impacted your sightseeing in the afternoon?

"Getting to know Rome, we come home to ourselves, our labyrinthine and surreal undergrounds of memories and desires and failures, the partiality of our abstract and absolute convictions" (Cahill xiv).

Coming here was easier than I had thought. I was ready for departure day, but I knew I would feel slight tugs at home as I left. I had an emotional goodbye with my parents, but after that, it was all Rome, all the time. My head buzzed so much with excitement that I slept under an hour on the plane. I had been trying to get here my whole life.

Growing up with both sides Italian, the goal of my life was made clear to me at a young age. "When are you going to Italy?" whined the hefty great-aunts at family reunions. This question usually preceded, "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Many of my younger relatives had been to Italy, and I saw pictures and had been preparing for these first few days for my whole life. When the plane touched down in Italy, all I could think was that I had returned to the madreterra, the homeland. The word 'return' implies previous presence in an area, but this was my first trip out of the country. I found it interesting that we talked about our homes in the first class, because I had been equating this place with my home from the beginning. Almost immediately, I felt an overwhelming peace in Italy.

With this new discovery in tow, I visited the Colosseum and the Forum. I was awed by the height of the Colosseum and saddened at the remains of the once-great Forum, but I also kept thinking of the people that were visiting this place, my Roma. I saw Chinese people, native Italians, Germans, young, old, all who had come to Rome for a specific reason, as I had. The Italians attempts to answer this by summarizing the general reasons of people in certain time periods. There are currently only about 2.5 native Italians for every one tourist, Barzini notes.

What has called people so strongly to this city over the years, just as it has called all of us? Travelers once faced bandits, avalanches, shady innkeepers, and sudden warring on paths to get to Rome. Many were after indulgences. Others were attracted to Italy's "slightly irreverent" paganness. Young men were sent to Italy to become cultured and to learn how to be gentlemen. Tourists still poured in when "Sicilian gangsters" posed threats. Many artists came to Rome to be inspired by previous art and to let that inspiration flow through their own brains, which allowed them to create. For instance, Winckelmannn's neo-classic style influenced Goethe to convert it into literary, poetic, and philosophical ideas.

But the reason I most identify with can be expressed through Hawthorne's final conclusion of Rome. Though he disliked Rome at first, he came to realize that Rome for him was even more familiar than his real home. ". . .when we have left Rome in such a mood as this we are astonished by the discovery, by and by, that our heart strings have mysteriously attached themselves to the Eternal City and are drawing us thitherward again, as if it were more familiar, more intimately our home, than even the spot where we were born" (Barzini 40).