Bernini, piazzas, Simchat Torah (day 11)
Now that we've been back for about three months or so, we've had the chance to decompress and get engaged and look through all our trip pictures. Though we're still not done, I figured I might as well start posting my half of the story.
9/30/2010
We started our day a little late, inspiring a frantic dash through the crowded Roman subway to the Villa Borghese stop and not quite running through the Villa Borghese to get to the Galleria Borghese before it was too late to be let in. We did make it, of course. Unfortunately, I couldn't take any pictures of my favorite sculptures. Bernini had the gift of being able to capture emotion in marble so realistically that you could feel it and touch it. My favorite was either Apollo and Daphne or David, though I love the imprint Pluto's hand makes on Persephone's thigh. Despite the myriad examples of classical sculpture in the other rooms, I found myself returning to Bernini's works again and again for yet one more look before our time was up.
Avoiding the crowd, we eventually wound our way to the Trevi Fountain, elusive as it is beautiful.
Continuing on, we found the Pantheon. Originally built by the Romans, it served as a temple to all the gods (hence, Pantheon). It's now a church dedicated to Mary, and judging from the crushing crowds, a particularly popular one. The skylight in the center is directly above a grate in the marble floor; when it rains all the water drains into the grate.
Passing by yet more examples of street art,
Since we were there anyway, we decided to wander about St. Peter's Square. Talk about impressive. Michelangelo designed the plaza as a giant ellipse, with fountains at each of its foci and four rows of columns around the perimeter. If you stand at the foci, the four rows of columns merge into one. Paul drank some water from the fountains and we rested on the steps, overlooking St. Peter's Basilica. We didn't go in, though, both because of the line and because of time.
Feeling refreshed, we walked straight to the Great Synagogue for Simchat Torah. Another American from New York chatted us up and gave us a few pointers for kosher eateries in Rome--they're all centered around the synagogue, on the street that leads to the Portico d'Ottavia--and warned us about the terrible acoustics inside. Once services began, I couldn't hear my own thoughts, much less understand what the chazzan was saying. As it was an Orthodox shul (it's really rare to find liberal synagogues outside of the US), Paul and I sat separately.
Italian Jews use a different siddur than everyone else, though their melodies have something of a Sephardi flavor. Up in the rafters, the voices of the men down below intoning the prayers and songs echoed (way too much) with a deep sonorance. I felt like I was bathing in song. The discordant overtones finally resolved themselves at the end, when everyone present sang Hatikva in perfect unison.
Riding off of that magical moment, we wandered in a daze to Trattoria da Augusto, where we noshed on gnocchi,
tiramisu,
and pine nut pie before crashing back at Asian Delight.
