Tomorrow we leave Assisi for a weekend in the Monti Sibillini national park. We'll be staying at a refugio at 1500m above sea level. Dinner, breakfast, and a bed comes to 35EUR/person/night. We are in dire need of a few cooler days. When my parents were here last weekend, we took advantage of their car to drive over to Gualdo Tadino and hike in the mountain above the town there. Up at 1200m, there's a run-down church built in the 16th century that used to serve as a church for the hermits who lived on the mountain. It's currently being restored, but it's a dramatic setting for a church. The heat in Assisi, while not oppressive, has been somewhat tiring. Our first hike up Mount Subasio (Assisi is a short way up the mountain) started with little promise: 20% incline for 2km. But when we reached the Eremo delle Carcieri (a hermitage where Francis spent some time), the steep gradient leveled out and we were able to climb to the top with more comfort.
By the time we reached a beautiful lookout point near the top of the mountain, the temperature had gotten much cooler and we were really starting to have a good time - at which point we realized that it was 12:30, and if we wanted to have lunch that day we needed to get ourselves ASAP to a restaurant. Umbria, far more than Tuscany, is still the sort of place where you eat between 12:30 and 2:30 or you don't eat at all. We studied the map (thanks to the local hiking association of Perugia for creating it!) and decided that our best bet was to run the length of Mount Subasio and then descend to a small town called Collepino, just above Spello. This wonderful hiking map even informed us of the name of the restaurant! (The picture below with me jogging was taken during this run.)
We got to Collepino, a delightful town built in stone (the whole town is smaller than a football field), just twenty minutes or so before the restaurant closed. It took us two and a half hours to get through lunch. That's just the pace at which country restaurants roll here! Afterward, we followed the course of the old Roman aqueduct into Spello (a town founded in the first century CE or AD, whichever you prefer). Spello is lovely, although somewhat fuller of tourists than I would have expected, perhaps because Assisi is so close (about 14K by road). We ducked into a church we passed at random. A bent-over Franciscan friar found us admiring the large cross hanging over the altar (school of Giotto) and directed us to the right transept which just happened to contain one of Pinturicchio's greatest works. (Remember, we're standing here in running clothes after covering about 17K on foot.) Finally, we took the train back to Assisi and walked up along the pilgrim route to our hotel. That was a great day.
After spending as much time in Tuscany as we've done, Umbria has come as a discovery in many ways (yeah, I know - we're like 20 years behind, but so what?!). Our experience has been that people are much friendlier and more welcoming here. B's work has involved trips to a number of towns in the region, and we were able to retrace some of his steps with my parents last weekend. Spoleto was fantastic, with an absolutely stunning Romanesque church that had the best-preserved 12th century cross I've ever seen. The frescoes in the apse, done by Fra Filippo Lippi (with some help from his son - don't worry, the father did not remain a Fra...), were spectacular. The coronation of the Virgin shows the absolutely most frightening and theologically problematic vision of the Father (for pictures, see http://www.sacred-destinations.com/italy/spoleto-cathedral). In the small side chapel now serving as a bookstore, there was a lovely little piece of Elijah ascending into heaven in a chariot with his cloak at Elisha's feet - a seldom-seen story.
We then continued on to Montefalco, for one of the greatest treats I've ever had. The former Franciscan church, now a museum, contains a stunning cycle of the life of Francis by Benozzo Gozzoli. See http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/g/gozzoli/2montefa/index.html for pictures. Scene 6 is especially delightful as Francis drives the demons from Arezzo. Scene 7, where Francis blesses Montefalco against a background of the Umbrian valley with Mount Subasio and Assisi in the background is a stunningly realistic portrayal of a landscape that has changed little to this day. (Montefalco is called the balcony of Umbria precisely because of this view.) Note, in scene 9, where Francis invents the idea of doing mangers at Christmas, the way the hoof of the cow is pulling on Francis' robe.
Now, you might think that a museum containing such a fresco cycle would be absolutely thronged with tourists, and in Florence or Rome, you'd be right. In Montefalco? We were alone. Not only that: the church-museum is simply stuffed with other delightful pictures - from the life of Jerome, the desert fathers, a Madonna della Misericordia (Mary protecting the faithful under her robes, a simultaneously delightful and disturbing image; the worst are the ones as in Nocera Umbra where she's protecting them against the spears hurled by an angry Christ), and more.
Another day we went to Orvieto, where the Duomo has perhaps the most beautiful facade of any church I've ever seen. Other cathedrals are as impressive (for instance, Strasbourg), but the Orvieto Duomo is gorgeous. (Picture at http://it.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duomo_di_Orvieto.) The guidebook calls the mosaics harshly colored, which is fair, but against the dusty gray-green of the Umbrian countryside and the stone of the town, the vivid colors are delightful and almost unbelievable. In the chapel of San Brizio you find one of Luca Signorelli's masterpieces (with a little help from Fra Angelico). (Pictures at http://www.wga.hu/frames-e.html?/html/s/signorel/brizio/index.html.) The most famous image is of course the devil whispering in the ear of the Antichrist. We found the Resurrection of the Flesh, which is almost like time-lapse photography of resurrection, to be particularly impressive. In Orvieto are also the remains (just the transept) of the first Dominican church - in the monastery attached, Thomas Aquinas taught for a while, so for the first time ever I have set eyes on something that the great dumb ox himself would have seen.
I know we still owe posts about Rome, bike trip, and more, but perhaps this will do for now? Oh, and I do need to describe yesterday's feast at some point!
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Sunday, July 5, 2009
Palio Daze
The week of the July Palio is over and the city has calmed. Most of the tourists have left and the only reminders of the four-day ritualized horse race that ended Thursday evening are the drums Tartuca (the winning contrada) and the newspaper headlines about health of horses and the intrigue of the jockeys.
The Palio is the name of the horse race that is held twice a year (July 2 and August 16) by the Sienese in honor of the Virgin Mary (there are some years where a third “extraordinary” Palio is run to commemorate some important event, e.g. the first lunar landing – the Palio of the Moon was won by Oca [the Goose]) . The winner of the race receives the Palio – a painted silk banner. Both the name of the race and the piece of cloth bear the name Palio.
The competitors in the race are the various neighborhoods or precincts of the city that are called contrada (singular) and contrade (pl.). There are 17 contrade in the city, but only 10 run in any given Palio. During the middle ages the contrade were given their coherence by professional solidarity, e.g. the many of the members of the contrada of Onda (the Wave) were carpenters, the members of Oca were dyers, the members of Valdimontone (Ram) were smiths of fine metals, and so on. Today this is less the case, and so the Palio itself has taken over as the external fiction around which contrada life is explicitly oriented. Each contrada has its own social club, church, museum, kitchens, and designated feast days. The habits and rituals of contrada life effectively make the Palio a year round event – the community practices come to a crescendo in the race and the race is the event or the act that constitutes and makes possible the practices – the contrade and the Palio mutually define one another. This was less the case in the middle ages when greater internal coherence lessened the importance of the Palio.
The Palio is an elaborately orchestrated four-day event. Day 1 for us started on Monday with the Trata. This is when 30 or so horses are brought into the city for a set of trial races where they are on display to the captains of the contrade (the individuals chosen to direct the strategic energies of the contrada to win the Palio). The 30 horses run in groups of no more than eight. After they’ve all run the captains may decide to have a group of horses (likely horses that have never run in a Palio before) to have another go. Once all this is finished the captain deliberate for an hour or two and decide which ten horses will run. The best horses will not necessarily be picked. This is especially true if there are a number of enemy pairs in the race (most contrade have one enemy, e.g. Oca and Torre). One way to lose the Palio is to have your enemy win. Thus if your contrada has recently won a Palio and your enemy has not, you would not want a fantastic horse to be in the race because you run the risk of your enemy getting that horse. After the ten horses have been picked they are randomly assigned to the ten contrade that are participating in that particular Palio – this ceremony takes place in the Campo in front of 30,000 people. There is rejoicing and cursing based on the assignments. This year the contrade of Tartuca, Drago, and Istrice got the best horses (horses that had all previously won Palios). Once the horse is assigned it is taken by the members of the contrade back to the contrada to a stall where it will live, guarded under 24hr surveillance, during the days of the Palio.
Once the horses have been assigned the contrade go into contract with jockeys. The better the contrada’s horse, the more ambitiously the contrada will spend on a good jockey. Istrice (the porcupine) went after the best jockey – Trecciolino. He has won 11 Palios. A good jockey does not come cheap. The best are paid upwards of a half a million EUR.
The jockeys and horses first appear together on Monday night, the night of the first trial race – prova. This was, however, rained out. The trial races continue through the days of the Palio – 9:00 in the morning and 19:45 in the evening. The evening events draw enormous crowd (40,000ish). Tempers flare. On Tuesday night a fight broke out between Chiocciola and Tartuca. Many punches were thrown, but very few landed. Such outbreaks are typical and are much more postured and performed than anything else. The older men of the contrade are an internal policing mechanism for the contrade. They do not want the contrada to be penalized so they will work to control the hormones of the younger boys. However, in this case, S saw a man in his 50s being taken away with blood all over.
The penultimate trial race, called the Prova Generale, takes place 24hrs before the Palio. After the race all the running contrade will have huge feasts on the principal streets of their neighborhood. Onda’s feast was on the Via Giovanni Dupre. S and I went to their dinner along with the rest of the group. It was a 4-course meal punctuated by contrada songs and speeches. There was also a thunderstorm that passed through so our table (of about 100) held a long piece of plastic over our heads for about 15min.
One of the tragedies of this year’s Palio happened at the Prova Generale. During the Prova the horse of Civetta (the Owl) pulled up limping after the first big turn. We hadn’t noticed this because our eyes were on the front of the race. The Civettini, however, had. Before the race was over they sprinted across the track to the street where their horse had exited. Their worst nightmares had been realize – the horse (Iesael) was injured and would not be able to run. This came as a particularly hard blow to Civetta, the contrada that bears the ignominious distiction “La Nonna” – Grandmother – because they have not won a Palio since 1979. They cancelled their dinner and cried themselves to sleep. The headline in the newspaper the next morning read: “Civetta in lacrime.” It was sad.
The last prova on the morning of the day of the race is called the provaccia – the bad prova. No one wants to win. After the provaccia there is a “Palio mass” at the church of the Provenzano. The Palio is present for the mass. It’s a great time to get a close up view of the banner.
In the mid-afternoon a long and intricate parade begins. The parade recounts the entirety of Sienese history in addition to showcasing the contrade that are running, those that aren’t, and representatives of the contrade that don’t exist anymore (the so-called “suppressed contrade”). The parade eventually makes its way to the Campo where it reaches a crescendo – flag throwing, drumming, and even a cavalry charge from soldiers that I’m sure were once part of Garibaldi’s army that march on Rome.
Eventually, after much standing in a crowd of 60,000, the horses and jockeys emerge from the Palazzo Pubblico. The mass of people comes to a near complete silence as they wait to hear the order in which the horses will line up. It’s really a rather magical thing. Once the order has become clear the arduous process of getting everyone in place begins. This year it was particularly frustrating – Istrice and Chiocciola were very obstreperous. There were two false starts and lots of jockeying at the starting rope – the canape.
After a good half an hour of this there was clean(ish) start. Tartuca’s horse (Gia de Menhir ridden by Gingillo) got off to a great start and was followed closely by Lupa [she-wolf] around the first curve (San Martino). Soon after, however, the gap increased and continued to do so for the rest of the 73 second race. Gia de Menhir, as the paper later proclaim, was a “war machine”. It ran the second fastest Palio ever. Both Istrice’s and Onda’s horses were injured in the race so they very quickly fell off the pace.
The Tartuchini spilled onto the track, kissed the horse, and carried the jockey on their shoulders as they ran to claim the Palio. They’ve been marching around the city with it ever since.
Watch this year's July Palio:
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