Click (or double-click, depending on your device) on any image to launch the slideshow.
Images © Melissa Corcoran.
If you could see the village of Vallucciole as I saw it today, you would wonder – what bad could happen here? This small, isolated village is located in the hills of the Casentino, which at this time of year are awash in the bright greens and colorful flowers of spring, set off by a deep blue sky.
However, on the night of April 13, 1944, German soldiers, accompanied, according to some reports, by their Italian allies, massacred all 108 inhabitants of Vallucciole. The massacre was in retaliation for the killing, by partisans, of two German officers at a nearby mill. Men, women, and children were killed and houses looted, then burned.
We attended a memorial Mass in the small chapel above the village. We did not need to understand Italian to realize that at one point in the Mass, the celebrant read the names of all of the victims. Banners representing local groups were held high and the church bells rang. It was a very moving moment.
Afterwards, we lit a candle at the memorial at the back of the chapel and then walked down to the village. Some of the houses have been restored and are inhabited at least part of the year, but several others are still in ruins. It is hard to reconcile the beauty that is part of everyday life with the atrocities committed here. In the nearby cemetery, entire families are commemorated on headstones and it is then that you realize how young some of the victims were.
I wish I knew how to end this post, but sadly, this is a story that has no end.
Images © Melissa Corcoran.
One of the things I liked best about Ravenna were the placards along a main thoroughfare titled “La vie dei poeti. Appunti di viaggio / The street of poets. Travel notes.” Each placard had a story about or a quote from visitors to Ravenna. This quote from Henry James was one of my favorites:
“The greyness everywhere was lighted up by the scintillation, on vault and entablature, of mosaics more or less archaic, but always brilliant and elaborate, and everywhere too by the same deep amaze of the fact that, while centuries had worn themselves away and empires risen and fallen, these little cubes of coloured glass had stuck in their allotted places and kept their freshness.”
James, Henry. Italian Hours. London: William Heineman, 1909. Print.
I’m waking up from a dream, one filled with glowing color and intricate patterns. The dream is called Ravenna and the colors and patterns are those of the Byzantine mosaics.
With several early Christian monuments on the Unesco World Heritage list, I had expected the mosaics of Ravenna to be wonderful, but I was astounded by how beautiful they are. My first visit was to the Basilica di San Vitale and I found myself sinking, if one can use that word when looking up, into the intricacies of the mosaics that cover the apse and presbytery. I tried to note every detail, not just of the scenes depicted, but also of the decorative elements, but it was impossible – there was too much to absorb all at once. Thanks to an app I downloaded before my visit, I took a moment to look down at the floor of the presbytery for a maze traced out in stone. Following the arrows leads one to the center of the basilica.
That first visit whetted my appetite for the four monuments I would see the next day. All of the mosaics were beautiful but at each monument, there were one or two elements that stood out to me. At the Basilica di Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, it was the glimpse of shimmering gold I saw from the doorway before entering the church. I gasped loudly and I guess the man punching tickets was used to that reaction because he didn’t check to see if I was okay! Again, I looked at as many details as I could, but the magnificent procession of figures on each side of the nave was the highlight. These long panels are topped by individual figures, probably prophets, set between the windows. On the uppermost level, scenes from the Bible are illustrated in mosaic.
At my next stop, the Battistero Neoniano, it was the mosaic embellishments around the edge of the embrasures that had me taking pictures, including squeezing behind the construction scaffolding in front of one embrasure to get a photo. It was interesting that the embellishments were symmetrical but not identical. In the atrium of the lovely Cappella di San Andrea, I looked for the duckling with one red foot and one black foot, the only bird in the pattern of birds and flowers with this distinction. My jaw dropped (actually, that happened a lot) when I walked into the Mausoleo di Galla Placidia. The plain exterior of this building is in contrast to the magnificence of the mosaics inside, including the representation of the night sky in the dome. The mausoleum is small and the dim light makes the mosaics glow, rather than sparkle, to lovely effect.
I thought that after all this magnificence, I would be too visually exhausted to look at anything more, but my last day found me walking through the Saturday markets in the piazzas and loggias around the city center. I stumbled across the Battistero degli Ariani, another monument on the Unesco list, when I was trying to figure out what a gentleman with whom I spoke was telling me about a nearby church. The dome of this baptistery had a similar theme to the dome of the Battistero Neoniano – the baptism of Christ and a procession of the Apostles.
I visited Dante’s tomb because I didn’t think I could go back to Florence without having done so. I went into the Basilica di San Francesco to see the flooded crypt; there are mosaics on the floor and goldfish in the water! I visited Museo TAMO (Tutta l’Avventura del Mosaico) which was so-so – I had hoped to see more about how mosaics are made – but I loved the faded glory of the church, San Nicolò, in which it is housed. On my way back to where I was parked, I had a Carl Gustav Jung moment when I couldn’t find the piadina sandwich board I had seen earlier when on that same street. (When Carl Gustav Jung visited the Battistero Neoniano, he saw a mosaic in which Christ is holding out a hand to Peter, who is about to drown. The mosaic does not exist.)
I ended my time in Ravenna with a visit to Basilica di Sant’Apollinare in Classe, another of the monuments on the Unesco list. While the mosaics aren’t as immediately stunning as those in some of the other monuments, they are worth seeing, as is the light and airy church.
I hope I have this dream again!
For more about Ravenna and the Unesco World Heritage list, click here.
Images © Melissa Corcoran, with the exception of scans of postcards.
As Easter mornings go, this one was pretty spectacular! I attended the Scoppio del Carro (‘Explosion of the Cart’), something I’ve wanted to do since I read about it a year ago.
The morning started at Via Il Prato, where the cart starts its journey to the Piazza del Duomo.
The cart is pulled by white oxen. They are very tolerant to put up with the festive headdresses!
I followed along with the procession for a few blocks, then headed towards the Duomo. Passing through the Piazza della Repubblica, I was thrilled to see the Sbandieratori, the city flag throwers.
After a cioccolata calda, I found a place to stand and wait for the cart to arrive in front of the Duomo. When it did arrive, it was accompanied by marchers, including musicians, in period costumes of the Florentine Republic. Pictures of the marchers were hard to get, due to the crowds, but trust me, the spectacle was amazing.
A few finishing touches were put on the cart.
Those dangling paper packets are the fireworks. The coat of arms is that of the Pazzi family.
The fireworks began at 11:00, when the Gloria was being sung during the Easter Sunday Mass inside the Duomo. A mechanical dove flew from the altar to the cart along a wire to ignite the fireworks.
Hmmm, am I taking photos of the fireworks or of people’s cellphones?
A shower of sparks.
And at the end, the flags.
All images © Melissa Corcoran.