Roots in Rome

Old Roots in Rome

 

Rome is full of roots. First the Vatican. A country unto itself.

 

Growing up in a very Catholic family, in a very Catholic community this brought it all home for Rosemary. Seeing the nuns selling Rosary’s in the gift shops, watching the priests in their collars flourish about St Peters Square, brought back so many memories of 12 years in Catholic school.

 

Who knew what those Popes were doing all those hundreds of years ago? Collecting art, commissioning more art. And yes, asking Bernini to toss in a couple of his sculptures, just for good measure. Oh and Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel, why not spend a few years making a small private chapel even more amazing?

 

St. Peter’s is another story. A couple of football fields in length and width, you’re not sure where your eye should rest first. The main alter which is below Bernini’s massive 7-story bronze canopy?  The numerous statues clinging to the walls of the church, or the amazingly preserved Popes from the last century.

 

Then there is Michelangelo’s Pieta. I remember Nana (Rosemary’s Italian grandmother) having a small replica of this sculpture on her dresser when I was a child. In the 70s a madman ran into the church at began to take a hammer to the masterpiece. It was repaired and now sits behind bullet proof glass. Coincidently it is Michelangelo’s only signed sculpture. He overheard some admirers saying that “some unknown artist created it.” Michelangelo was so angry he took chisel to the statue and inscribed that is was the created by the Great Michelangelo. Looking at the minute version of Mary holding the corpse of Jesus in her arms I remember wondering why someone would want to harm such a piece of art.

 

Today, after viewing the Pieta behind bulletproof glass it brought tears to my eyes thinking about my Nana. She made her trip to the US on a small boat from Italy in 1919. Arriving into to New York not knowing what her life would bring. I never thought of her as an adventurous woman, but thinking about her now, leaving the only place she ever knew. To move to a place where she had never been, and did not speak the language was a true act of heroism.

 

The day before we visited the neighborhood where Corstiaan’s parents lived in the 60s during the true La Dolce Vita time of Rome. Roots.

 

Yes, roots run deep in Rome.

 

A special hello to Dana and Bob, who have started roots of their own this week!