For posterity, a marker in Florence

One of the millions of things I love about Italy is:  they never miss an opportunity to mark something for posterity.  No matter how modest the contribution.

Case in point, a stone’s throw from my home on the north end of Florence is an underground parking lot in a neighborhood known as the “Parterre.”  It serves a vital function of providing parking for some of the thousands of cars that cannot enter historic Florence on any given day, because the historic center is designated a pedestrian area and does not allow entry for unauthorized vehicles.

The above-ground section marking the Parterre is nothing much to brag about:

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But, nevertheless, the city’s leaders wanted credit given to the masterminds behind the underground parking, and to this end they installed a very grand-sounding plaque with inscriptions lauding them all.

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A bronze fountain composed of stacked toddlers

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Poor Giorgio Vasari! I just don’t know what to make of the tiny little “piazza” that was named in Florence in his honor.  For the father of the history of art, I think he deserves something a little grander, don’t you?

Honestly, the piazza is such a throw away space that I can’t even make a screenshot of a Google Maps image to add to this post.  The location isn’t even marked, other than being a pinpoint on a short street called “Piazza Giorgio Vasari.”

So, because I am an intrepid searcher when it comes to arcane facts, here are the 3 things you should know about this unloved piazza on the north east side of Florence.

  1. It is named after Giorgio Vasari, who was a talented painter in his own right, but also the Father of Art History
  2. It is graced with a marker dedicated to all the citizens who were victims of war (sometimes this marker has a laurel wreath placed over it)

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3. It has, at it’s center, a strange bronze sculpture of stacked toddlers

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The next time I walk through the piazza, I will take a note on the foundry and artist markings on the fountain.  It was too dark this time.

Strange, but true, the fountain of stacked bambini marking the Piazza Giorgio Vasari!

The French Triumphal arch in Piazza della Liberta

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The triumphal arch of the Lorraine, a gateway to and from power in Piazza della Libertà

 

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There is a grandiose and quite ornate — at least by Tuscan standards — neoclassical arch standing in my neighborhood.  It sits not quite in the middle of Piazza della Libertà.

Based on the model of Roman triumphal arches, the arch in Florence was built for the entry of Francesco Stefano, the First Grand Duke of the House of Lorraine, a dynasty imposed on Tuscany following the death in 1737 of the last of the Medici grand dukes, Gian Gastone.

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Ironically, in 1859, the same arch saw the exit of the last of Tuscany’s Lorraine rulers, Grand Duke Leopoldo II, after he was ousted in a bloodless revolution.

In a kind of territorial “musical chairs,” the French, Austrians and dukes of Lorraine agreed under the peace treaty that ended the war of Polish succession (1733–37) that the duchy of Lorraine be given to Stanisław I, the former king of Poland and father-in-law of France’s King Louis XV. As compensation, the dukes of Lorraine were designated the duchy of Tuscany.

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Thoroughly mystified by these geopolitical machinations, the Tuscans did not relish the idea of foreign occupation. Witness to this, French writer and future president of Burgundy Charles de Brosses commented that they would have willingly given “two-thirds of their property to have the Medicis back, and the other third to get rid of the Lorrainers….They hate them.”

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Nonetheless, to welcome the new sovereign, his young bride, Maria Theresa of Austria (the daughter and heir of the Holy Roman Emperor, Charles VI), on their first –and only–visit to Florence in January 1739, Senator Carlo Ginori, founder of a porcelain factory, proposed the construction of an arch near the ancient Porta di San Gallo gate, which was and is the main northern entrance to the city.

Here’s a double portrait of the newlyweds:

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The arch was designed by Jean-Nicolas Jador, an architect from Lorraine. Work began on December 16, 1738, but, despite more than 400 men working day and night, it was impossible to complete the complicated edifice on schedule for the couple’s arrival.

The three main arches, a large one in the centre with two smaller ones each side, were finished, but painted wood and canvas decorated with temporary statuary covered the section above them.

As the sound of cannons boomed out from Forte Belvedere and fireworks exploded into the sky, it is likely the grand duke could barely see these improvisations as night had almost fallen by the time he reached Florence on that cold winter’s day.

Work on the arch continued for another 20 years, with many artists and artisans involved before it was completed in 1759.

Supported by 10 Corinthian columns, the monument features 15 allegorical statues, heraldic decorations, four adornments of flags and arms, and six bas-reliefs of episodes from the life of Francesco Stefano, including his coronation.

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On the southern façade, two double-headed eagles symbolize the Habsburg dynasty.

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The monument is topped by an equestrian statue of Francesco Stefano by Florentine Baroque sculptor Vincenzo Foggini, known for his masterpiece Samson and the Philistines, now in the Victoria and Albert Museum in London. The statue faces away from the city, intended to welcome the grand duke and his entourage on his approach to the city from via Bolognese.

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On that first visit, after celebrating mass at the Duomo, the royal couple took up residence in the Pitti Palace and spent their days sightseeing. During the carnival season, they held three lavish masked balls at the Palazzo Vecchio and even managed to attend a game of football in costume.

In describing Francesco Stefano in his Letters from Italy, John Boyle, the fifth earl of Cork and Orrery, wrote that he was “of a cheerful aspect, and of a most princely personage, yet something sinister and obscure may be perceived in his countenance … He is a Lorrainese, the shadow, not the substance of a sovereign.”

Here he is in a portrait:

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And it was the shadow of Francesco Stefano that would, in fact, reign over his subjects because his stay, albeit it a pleasant one, lasted only three months, and he would never set foot in the city again. After the death of Charles VI in 1740, Maria Theresa succeeded her father and named her husband co-regent of the Holy Roman Empire.

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For the next 27 years, Tuscany was governed in his name by a regency, first by Count Emmanuel de Richecourt and then by General Antonio Botta-Adorno.

In effect, Florence and the region simply became a convenient cash cow to be heavily taxed and plundered of its art or of whatever else could be of use to the court in Vienna for supporting its economy and the Austrian army.

 

http://www.theflorentine.net/art-culture/2016/05/triumphal-arch-lorraine/

 

 

Charting my progress, for the record

How’s my goal of living in Italy working out?  Pretty well.  It hasn’t been easy or fast, but it has been steady.

I came to Florence at the end of November in 2016.  I arrived with a student Visa, which let me live in Italy beyond the 90 days any American can stay in Europe as a tourist.  I stayed in Florence for 11 months and successfully obtained the all important Permesso di Soggiorno with that Visa.  The Permesso expired after 8 months, regardless of the fact that I had already paid for Italian language school for 12 months.  Lesson 1: there is no logic.

I returned to the states in October of 2017, going from Florence to Chicago where it was necessary for me to go to the Italian Consulate to apply for an elective residency Visa.  Such a Visa allows Americans like me, if we are fortunate enough to receive the Visa, to live in Italy under certain circumstances.  Chicago was necessary for me because my home is in Denver and that’s the way that cookie is divided.  I filed the myriad documents needed to show my eligibility for the elective residency Visa, and then went to Denver to wait its hoped-for arrival.

Fortunately, I received the Visa.  But, it has certain conditions. I won’t enumerate them all, but one of the most important ones is that I am not allowed to have gainful employment in Italy.  I cannot receive any payment from anyone in Italy.  Doing so could result not only in my Visa being revoked, but the Italian government could prohibit me from ever setting foot in Italy again.  It’s a powerful rule.

I returned to Florence in December of 2017, armed with my new elective residency Visa. The first step, then, once within the country, is that within 8 days, one must apply for the Permesso di Soggiorno.  I applied for this before Christmas in 2017 and then began to wait for its arrival.

Some people will receive their Permesso within a month, or so they say.  Others, like me, are not so lucky.  I waited for 8 months to receive word that my new Permesso was ready for me to pick up at the police station, or the dreaded Questura.

In July of 2018, I received a text message telling me to appear at the Questura on a certain date in early August, at a certain time.  I did as I was asked.  I turned in my old, expired, student-based Permesso, and received my new one.  Unfortunately, my new Permesso was already expired when I received it.  You read that right.  Welcome to Italy.

The true impact of this situation on my daily life was nil.  As long as one re-applies for a new Permesso within a short period, and keeps the receipt of that application with them at all times, typically no problems will result.  Fortunately, I have never been stopped by the police in Italy and asked to show my documents.  Theoretically, even if the police did stop me and ask for my documents, the receipt of the new Permesso application would suffice.

I filed my new application for a new Permesso in late September of 2018.  Of course I kept a copy of the receipt for fees paid for that application with me at all times.

And then I began the wait for my new Permesso.

So, what is the importance of this waiting period on my life?  Again, on a daily basis it is unnoticeable.  However, there are other steps that one needs to do to truly function in present day Italy after one receives the Permesso.

For example, I tried to open a bank account in Italy in the winter of 2017, while I had my student Visa and my related Permesso.  With the assistance of an Italian friend, we could not find a bank that was willing to open an account for me.  I suppose I was considered to be too transient to bother with.

At that time, I was warned about opening an Italian bank account in any case.  Still not having one, I cannot tell you exactly why people recommended I NOT open an account, should I ever find a bank that was willing to let me.  Why? As I understand it, bank accounts here are very different from what I’m used to in the USA.  For starters, it is quite costly to maintain an account here.  In any case, no bank would open an account for me if I didn’t have a current Permesso di Soggiorno.  Although I never tried to open an account with just my receipt, perhaps I could have done so.  It just didn’t seem worthwhile to try, so I didn’t.  For months I expected to receive my new Permesso and then I would try. That was my plan

Once I received my elective residency Visa and had an actual, unexpired Permesso di Soggiorno, I could follow other steps. First among these is applying for a Certificato di Residenza.  I still don’t understand why this is important to have, but it is.  There are certain things I just accept here and just accept that it makes no sense to me.  The Serenity Prayer comes in handy.

After obtaining the Certificato di Residenza, one can apply for the Carta d’ Identita, which is necessary to have before applying for an Italian health care card which would allow me to seek medical treatment in Italy should the need arise. Up until such time, it is incumbent upon me to maintain a private traveler’s health insurance policy to cover unforseen events.  As a matter of fact, proof of such a policy is a necessary document needed to apply for both the elective residency Visa and also for the Permesso di Soggiorno.

So, I’ve been waiting since last September (2018), for my new Permesso di Soggiorno.  Six months went by, 7 months, 8 months, 9 months, 10 months and then, finally, I received a text message telling me my new Permesso would be ready for me to pick up at the Questura last week.  I went with baited breath, wondering if it would already be expired again.

This time, I got lucky.  True, I had to wait 11.5 months for the thing, but at least I got one that does not expire for 12 months!  I’m suddenly completely legal, not needing any receipts for anything, at least for a year!  Then I get to do the whole thing over again.

So, how did I celebrate?  I did so by immediately (the next week) applying for my Certificato di Residenza.  I was informed by knowledgeable people and blogs that this would arrive 45 days after I applied for it.  Then I could apply for the Carta d’ Identita.

Imagine my surprise, after going to the correct government office in Florence, when the clerk told me she could produce and give it to me that same day!  She asked me if I wanted to apply for the Carta d’ Identita and I mostly certainly did.  She gave me the forms to sign and submitted them.  She said I should receive it within a week (I’ll expect it within a month, if I’m lucky).

Once I have that in hand, I intend to apply for the Italian health care card which, if I understand things correctly, will allow me to seek medical assistance if the need were to arise, which I obviously hope it will not!

And, bonus, in the meantime I met an Italian who works with a lot of English speakers, and she told me that she thought I could apply for a “bank account” with the Italian postal system.  Say what?

It turned out, she was correct.  I went into the Post Office in Florence last week and opened an account that seems to be something like a bank account…even if it is with the postal system.  I have a new debit card and the ability to wire money into this account from the US.  For the first time since I arrived in Italy in November of 2016, I will be able to pay my rent to my landlord’s bank account.  Up until now, I’ve had to take cash out of the ATM over the period of a few days to get enough money together to pay my rent.

All of a sudden, I feel like I’m living in the 21st century again.  However, I’ve been in Italy long enough to know that any number of things could and may still go wrong.  I’ll check in again once money has successfully been wired from the states to my post office bank account and I’ve paid my rent.  Fingers crossed.

And, next week, I’ll apply for a health insurance card.  Step by slow step, my life in Italy is becoming complete.

Arrividerla, L

 

 

 

 

Florence’s tiny little wine windows

One of the hundreds of interesting things you see when walking around the city of Florence are these small windows, measuring about 12 inches wide by 15 inches tall, cut into the masonry of some major palazzi.  There are hundreds of them in Florence.

The buchette del vino (“small holes [for] wine”) were added to the buildings by entrepreneurial families who produced wine on their country estates and thought to themselves, “why not sell some in Florence on a glass by glass, or a refilled bottle by bottle, basis?”

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Together, these windows form a collection of Renaissance-era vestiges of a once-popular and admirably no-fuss form of wine sales.

Without exception, I have never seen one of these windows open.  They are usually boarded up, sometimes in quite decorative ways.

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But now, an organization is working to preserve—and help reopen—the city’s “wine windows.”

“These small architectural features are a very special commercial and social phenomenon unique to Florence and Tuscany,” Matteo Faglia, a founding member of the Associazione Culturale Buchette del Vino, told Unfiltered via email. “Although they are a minor cultural patrimony, nevertheless, they are an integral part of the richest area of the world in terms of works of art and monuments—Tuscany.”

The buchette first came into vogue in the 16th century, when wealthy Florentines began to expand into landowning—notably, owning vineyards—in the Tuscan countryside. The aristocrats’ new zeal for selling wine was matched only by that for avoiding paying taxes on selling wine, so they devised the simplest model for wine retail they could: on-demand, to-go, literally hand-sold through a hole in the wall of their residences.

It was convenient for drinkers, too: Knock on the window with your empty bottle, and the server, a cantiniere, would answer; upon receiving the bottle and payment, he would return with a full bottle of wine. Buchette eventually became popular enough that nearly every Florentine family with vineyards and a palace in Florence had a wine window, and soon the trend spread to nearby Tuscan towns like Siena and Pisa.

The windows stayed open for the next three centuries, but by the beginning of the 20th century, more social wine tavernas had spread throughout the city, with better-quality wine, better company and equally easy access to a flask.

By 2015, most Florentines had lost track of their wine windows, if not vandalized them. That year, the Associazione was founded, with a mission to identify, map and preserve the buchette—nearly 300 catalogued so far.

And this summer provided a new boost to their work: One restaurant has cracked open its buchetta anew for business. Babae is the first restaurant to re-embrace the old tradition, filling glasses for passersby through their buchetta for a few hours each evening.

It’s a welcome development to the lovers of wine windows. “Although the ways of selling wine have obviously changed since the wine windows were fully active … this small gesture, which highlights a niche of Florentine history, is very welcome,” said Faglia, “to help to keep alive this antique and unique way of selling one of Tuscany’s most important agricultural and commercial products: its wine.”

This new association even has a Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/buchettedelvino/

http://buchettedelvino.org/home%20eng/index.html

https://www.winespectator.com/articles/florence-s-forgotten-renaissance-wine-windows-are-open-again-for-business

Some good news, after all

If you read my post entitled Sad and true, the anti-reforms in Italy’s art world  

I have some good news for you.  Things have changed for the better!!

https://news.artnet.com/art-world/relief-for-foreign-museum-directors-italy-1643938?utm_content=bufferce988&utm_medium=social&utm_source=facebook.com&utm_campaign=news&fbclid=IwAR2zboN8u3al5HL-n7vwxCNbn2_1xjcY58j0ApiWSm_9W189QE-fSgwdYTY

 

The history of Padua, including the city walls, part 2

The rich history of Padua was only partially discussed here.  This post continues the story.

Beginning with the 12th Century in Padova:

 

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The Carrara Family, also called Carraresi, was a medieval Italian family who ruled first as feudal lords about the village of Carrara in the countryside near Padua and then as moderately enlightened despots in the city of Padua.

Having moved into Padua itself in the 13th century, the Carraresi exploited the feuds of urban politics first as Ghibelline and then as Guelf leaders and were thus able to found a new and more illustrious dominion. The latter began with the election of Jacopo da Carrara as perpetual captain general of Padua in 1318 but was not finally established, with Venetian help, until the election of his nephew Marsiglio in 1337.

For approximately 50 years, the Carraresi ruled with no serious rivals except among members of their own family. Marsiglio was succeeded without incident by Ubertino (1338–45), but Marsigliello, who succeeded Ubertino, was deposed and murdered by Jacopo di Niccolò (1345–50).

Jacopo was then murdered by Guglielmino and succeeded by his brother Jacopino di Niccoló (1350–55), and Jacopino in turn was dispossessed and imprisoned by his nephew Francesco il Vecchio (1355–87). Such a nice family to call your own.

Despite this chaos, the Carrara court was one of the most brilliant in all of the Italian peninsula. Ubertino in particular was a patron of building and the arts, and Jacopo di Niccolò was a close friend of Petrarch.

Only with the exception of a brief period of Scaligeri (the ruling family in Verona) overlordship between 1328 and 1337 and two years (1388–1390) when Giangaleazzo Visconti held the town, Padua was pretty much owned by the Carraresi.

The many advances of Padova in the 13th century naturally brought the commune into conflict with Can Grande della Scala, lord of Verona. In 1311, Padua had to yield.

But, even under the Carraresi, it was a long period of restlessness, for the Carraresi were constantly at war. Under Carraresi rule, the early humanist circles at the University of Padua were effectively disbanded: Albertino Mussato, the first modern poet laureate, died in exile at Chioggia in 1329, and the eventual heir of the Paduan literary tradition went to the Tuscan Petrarch.

In 1387, John Hawkwood won the Battle of Castagnaro for Padua, against Giovanni Ordelaffi, for Verona.

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The Carraresi period finally came to an end as the power of the Visconti and of Venice grew in importance. Padova came under the rule of the Republic of Venice in 1405, and mostly remained that way until the fall of the Republic of Venice in 1797.

There was just a brief period when the city changed hands (in 1509) during the wars of the League of Cambrai.  Padova was held for just a few weeks by Imperial supporters, but Venetian troops quickly recovered it and successfully defended Padua during a siege by Imperial troops (Siege of Padua).

As a part of the Venetian Republic, Padova was governed by two Venetian nobles, a podestà for civil affairs and a captain for military affairs. Each was elected for 16 months. Under these governors, the great and small councils continued to discharge municipal business and to administer the Paduan law, contained in the statutes of 1276 and 1362. The treasury was managed by two chamberlains; and every five years the Paduans sent one of their nobles to reside as nuncio in Venice; this elected official was in place to watch out for the interests of his native town.

 

The City Walls:

For more information see: https://digilander.libero.it/clapad5/padova/mura.html

1. The Romans would seem to be the first to surround Padova with walls. Of the walls built during the ancient Roman era, the only traces to survive are those incorporated into the foundations of certain palazzi. The route of these walls corresponded to a meandering line formed by the river Medoacus (now the Brenta). Inside the walls, Padua’s first urban center developed.

2.   The Mura Duecentesche (“13th century walls”; aka the mura comunali or mura medievali) were built at the start of the 13th century by the Comune of Padua. Their route was delimited by the two branches of the Bacchiglione, the Tronco Maestro and the Naviglio Interno, which came to be used as defensive ditches. There are several remains of them around the Castello and near Porta Molino. More minor remains are to be found in the Riviera Tito Livio and Riviera Albertino Mussato; the only gates to remain from this wall are the main north gate, Porta Molino (or Molini, after several mills in the area which functioned up to the early 20th century), and the main west gate, Porta Altinate (named after the road to Altino which began here).

(The Porta Molino‘s upper stories were used at the end of the 19th century as a reservoir for the town’s first drinking water system; tales of the tower being used as an observatory by Galileo Galilei during his time in the city are probably false. The Porta Altinate fronted onto the Naviglio Interno, crossed by an ancient Roman three-arch bridge, and in 1256 this gate was stormed and destroyed by crusaders fighting against Ezzelino da Romano [as recorded in an inscription recorded by Carlo Leoni].  It was rebuilt in 1286. The Naviglio and the bridge were buried in the 1960s.)

3. 14th century, the Mura Carraresi were built by the Carraresi in the 14th century and followed a route that would be followed almost by the later 16th century wall. Almost nothing remains of them the Mura Carraresi, since they were demolished during the War of the League of Cambrai to create the Renaissance wall.  However, some sections can be seen in via delle Dimesse, near the Prato della Valle.

4. The Mura Cinquecentesche (16th century Walls; aka the Mura rinascimentali or Mura Veneziane) were built to protect Padova by the Venetian Republic during the first decades of the 16th century. It was a project of the condottiero Bartolomeo d’Alviano.

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Canaletto, View of Padua from outside the city walls with the Church of San Francesco and the Palazzo della Salone

The Mura rinascimentali  were protected on their west flank by a canal known as the fossa Bastioni, which still exists. The Renaissance walls survive to this day, almost entirely unbroken apart from sections demolished in the 1960s to build the new Ospedale Civile.

 

The City Gates:

Nearly all the walls’ gates survive.  For even more information, see: http://digilander.libero.it/clapad5/padova/porte.html

Porta Savonarola – Completed in 1530. Designed by the architect Giovanni Maria Falconetto, this gate was built with a frieze showing the Lion of Saint Mark, symbol of the Venetian Republic, which still survives. Picture below:

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Porta san Giovanni – Completed in 1528. Designed by the architect Giovanni Maria Falconetto, this gate originally had a frieze showing the Lion of Saint Mark, symbol of the Venetian Republic (the frieze here was destroyed during the Napoleonic Wars). Picture below:

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Porta Ognissanti (or Portello, Portello Nuovo or Portello Venezia) – Originally entitled Portello or Little Port, the gate was built at the terminus for the river trade along the Brenta between Padua and Venice. The present building replaces the Portello Vecchio, on what is now via San Massimo, but is rather different from the city’s other gates of this date – the external facade is adorned with shining rocks from Istria, with four pairs of columns surmounted by an architrave embellished with four trachyte cannonballs. The three-arch bridge carrying the road over the Canale Piovego and through the gate is guarded by two white stone lions. Stones in the gate (still legible today) commemorate the ancient origins of the town, speaking to “its good governance.” Since 1535, a clock stands out from the gate in Nanto stone. Traces of frescoes can also be seen inside the gate. 5 pictures below:

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Porta Liviana – Begun in 1509, it was completed in 1517 and named in honour of Bartolomeo d’Alviano himself.

Porta Santa Croce – On the site of a gate in the Carraresi wall, the present gate was begun in 1509 and was originally defended by a tower, demolished in 1632.

(For a walk to view the city walls, you can start from Piazza Garibaldi, where there is the medieval Porta Altinate (1286), one of the 3 oldest city gates,  with short sections of walls still visible at various points of the Ponte Romani and Tito Livio rivers, then walk along via San Fermo (with the church of the same name leaning against the city walls). Walk from the Largo Europe and the Riviera Mugnai until you reach the intersection with via Dante, then you arrive at the 2nd medieval gate, Porta Ponte Molino, with its large pointed arch surmounted by a mighty tower.)

 

The End of the Venetian Republic: 

In 1797, the Venetian Republic came to an end with the Treaty of Campo Formio, and Padua, like much of the Veneto, was ceded to the Habsburgs. In 1806, the city passed to the French puppet Kingdom of Italy until the fall of Napoleon, in 1814, when the city became part of the newly formed Kingdom of Lombardy-Venetia, part of the Austrian Empire.

Austrian rule was unpopular with progressive circles in northern Italy, but the feelings of the population (from the lower to the upper classes) towards the empire were mixed.

In Padua, the year of revolutions of 1848 saw a student revolt which on 8 February turned the University and the Caffè Pedrocchi into battlegrounds where students and Paduans fought side by side. The revolt was, however, short-lived and there were no further episodes of unrest under the Austrian Empire (nor previously had there been any), as in Venice or in other parts of Italy. The opponents of Austria were forced into exile.

Under Austrian rule, Padua began its industrial development; one of the first Italian rail tracks, Padua-Venice, was built in 1845. In 1866, the Battle of Königgrätz gave Italy the opportunity, as an ally of Prussia, to take Veneto, and Padova was also annexed to the recently formed Kingdom of Italy.

At that time, Padova was at the center of the poorest area of Northern Italy, as the Veneto was until the 1960s. Despite this, the city flourished in the following decades both economically and socially, developing its industry, being an important agricultural market and having a very important cultural and technological center as the University. The city hosted also a major military command and many regiments.

 

The 20th Century:

When Italy entered World War I on 24 May 1915, Padova was chosen as the main command of the Italian Army. The king, Vittorio Emanuele III, and the commander in chief, Cadorna, lived in Padua for the period of the war.

After the defeat of Italy in the battle of Caporetto in autumn 1917, the front line became the river Piave, only about 35 miles from Padua. This put the city in the range of the Austrian artillery. However, the Italian military command did not withdraw. The city was bombed several times, with about 100 civilian deaths. A memorable feat was Gabriele D’Annunzio’s flight to Vienna from the nearby San Pelagio Castle airfield.

In 1918, the threat to Padua was removed. In late October, the Italian Army won the decisive Battle of Vittorio Veneto, and the Austrian forces collapsed. The armistice was signed at Villa Giusti, Padua, on 3 November 1918.

During the war, industry grew rapidly, and this provided Padua with a base for further post-war development. In the years immediately following WWI, Padua grew outside the historical town, despite the fact that labor and social strife were rampant at the time.

As in many other areas in Italy, Padua experienced great social turmoil in the years immediately following World War I. The city was shaken by strikes and clashes, factories and fields were subject to occupation, and war veterans struggled to re-enter civilian life. Many supported a new political way, fascism.

As in other parts of Italy, the National Fascist Party in Padua soon came to be seen as the defender of property and order against revolution. Padua was  the site of one of the largest fascist mass rallies, with some 300,000 people reportedly attending one speech by Benito Mussolini.

 

New buildings, in fascist architectural style, sprang up in the city. Examples can be found today in the buildings surrounding Piazza Spalato (today Piazza Insurrezione), the railway station, the new part of City Hall, and part of the Palazzo Bo hosting the University.

Following Italy’s defeat in WWII on 8 September 1943, Padua became part of the Italian Social Republic, which was a puppet state of the Nazi occupiers. The city hosted the Ministry of Public Instruction of the new state, as well as military and militia commands and a military airport.

The Resistenza, the Italian partisans, was very active against both the new fascist rule and the Nazis. One of the main leaders of the Resistenza in the area was the University vice-chancellor Concetto Marchesi.

Toward the end of the war, as the Allied Command freed Italy from German occupation moving from south to north, Padua was unfortunately bombed several times by Allied planes. The worst hit areas were the railway station and the northern district of Arcella. Because of the location of the German command center in Padua, it was during one of these bombings that the Church of the Eremitani took a direct hit.  It was a miracle of sorts that the nearby Scrovegni Chapel was not hit as well.

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You can see on the map below how close the Scrovegni is to the church (Chiesa degli Eremitani on the map).

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Tragically, the Church of the Eremitani was graced with some of the finest frescoes by Andrea Mantegna and they were almost complete obliterated. This is considered by some art historians to be Italy’s biggest wartime cultural loss.

Art conservators have been able to do the almost impossible and stitch together the remnants of the frescoes as seen in the next picture. I’ll be posting about the frescoes soon.

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The city was liberated by partisans and the 2nd New Zealand Division of the British Eighth Army on 28 April 1945. A small Commonwealth War Cemetery is located in the west part of the city, commemorating the sacrifice of these troops.

After the war, the city developed rapidly, reflecting Veneto’s rise from being the poorest region in northern Italy to one of the richest and most economically active regions of modern Italy.

The subject of Padua is vast.  I’ll be posting yet more very soon.

Padova, a lovely historic town in the Veneto (Padua, part 1)

Lovely Padova, or Padua, is a city and comune in Veneto, northern Italy.  It is the capital of the province of Padua and the economic and communications hub of the area. Padua’s population is 214,000 and when the city is included, with Venice (Venezia) and Treviso, in the Padua-Treviso-Venice Metropolitan Area (PATREVE), the sum population of around 2.5 million.

Padua stands on the Bacchiglione River, 25 miles west of Venice. The Brenta River, which once ran through the city, still touches the northern districts.

Its agricultural setting is the Venetian Plain (Pianura Veneta). To the city’s south west lies the Euganaean Hills, praised from time immemorial by Lucan and Martial and later by Petrarch, Ugo Foscolo, and Shelley.

Padua was the setting for most of the action in Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew and in and in Much Ado About Nothing, Benedick is named as Signior Benedick of Padua.” There is a play by the Irish writer Oscar Wilde entitled The Duchess of Padua.

The University of Padua, founded in 1222, is where later Galileo Galilei was a lecturer between 1592 and 1610.

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I was fortunate enough to pay a 2nd visit to Padova recently. I’d been once before, at least 30 years ago, just to see the Giotto frescoes in the Scrovegni Chapel. I  had crystal clear, bright blue memories of that chapel and it has been high time, for some time, to pay another visit.  So off I went.  It was wonderful.

The main goal of my recent trip to Padua was to again see the Giotto frescoes.  Nowadays, with the continual press on all the cultural monuments in Italy due to mass tourism and inane “bucket lists,”  many sites have time limits on how long you can see the art. The Scrovegni Chapel has joined that rank.

You must book your visit at a particular time well in advance, arrive early to pick up your ticket, meet 10 mins before your time, be ushered into a waiting room and watch a (very interesting) film in Italian while you are “dehumidified”. Is this hocus pocus? I don’t know. But it’s fine.

The only issue I have is that you now enter the chapel with 19 other dehumidified persons and get to stay in the chapel for 15 minutes only and then you are ushered out and the next group is ushered in.

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But, before discussing the sublime Scrovegni Chapel, let me say a few words about the archaeological museum that is next door to the chapel.

In fact, the truth is that prior to my recent visit, I had not realized there was an archaeological museum in Padova, let alone attached to the same complex of buildings.  And I certainly did not know that Padova was home to such an amazing collection.

I arrived at the Scrovegni Chapel about 45 minutes early and checked in and got my ticket for my 1:00 o’clock visit.  The pleasant woman at the check-in desk suggested that I visit the museum when I was thinking aloud, hmmm…I wonder what I should do for the 45 minutes while I wait to visit the chapel.

I am so glad she made that suggestion.  I am already planning another visit to Padova later this fall, and you can bet that I’ll be spending a lot more time at this fine museum. Below are just a few pictures from my initial visit.

So…have you ever wondered what the inside of an Egyptian sarcophagus looks like?  I have.  Fortunately, the Padova museum exhibits one of their sarcophagi open, making both the outside and inside visible. Fascinating.

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The Musei Civici has many areas of collection and I just snapped some random pictures of some of the objets that caught my eye.  For example, I want to wear the headdress in this painting:

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Painting above: Young Woman in Oriental Clothes by Ginevra Cantofoli, Bologna 1618-1672

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Painting above: Young Man with turban by Ginevra Cantofoli, Bologna 1618-1672

Check out the amazing frame on painting below.  I’ve seen a lot of frames in my day, but this was a first!

Painting below: Armed Minerva by Pietro Liberi, 1614-87. Born in Padova, died in Venezia.  This modest little frame that captured my attention and my heart!

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Above, the front and back of a crucifix by Giotto.

Some other strange and/or wonderful works I spied on this visit:

 

 

Orazio Marinali, Head of Holofernes

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I mean, come on…anatomically correct with a severed spinal cord??

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Above and below: Filippo Parodi, Head of Spring, or Flora

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Love this one below for the frame, the painting, meh…Baby Bacchus by Marco Liberi. But the frame carver, now that’s a masterpiece!

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Likewise for the painting below, I can take or leave the painting (Sebastiano Mazzoni, Portrait of theVenetian Captain), but that frame…!

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This marble piece below was freaky, the way it combines 2 angel’s heads, showing them kind of like Siamese twins.

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Padova’s historic center is picturesque, with a dense network of arcaded streets opening into large communal piazze, and many bridges crossing the various branches of the Bacchiglione, which once surrounded the ancient walls like a moat.

The city is also known for being the city where Saint Anthony, a Portuguese Franciscan, spent part of his life and died in 1231. The huge pilgrimage church of Sant’ Antonio is a major feature of the city’s life and skyline.

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Although I don’t have a clear memory of it, I know I visited the Gattemelata equestrian statue by Donatello on my first visit to Padova. I have clear memories of it from this visit. Here it is:

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The name of the city, Padova, is derived from its Roman name Patavium. Its origin is uncertain. It may be connected with the ancient name of the River Po, (Padus). The root “pat-,” in the Indo-European language, can refer to a wide open plain as opposed to nearby hills.  The suffix “-av” (also found in the name of the rivers such as the Timavus and Tiliaventum) is likely of Venetic origin, precisely indicating the presence of a river, which in the case of Padua is the Brenta.

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Padua claims to be the oldest city in northern Italy. According to a tradition dated at least to the time of Virgil’s Aeneid and to Livy’s Ab Urbe Condita, Padova was founded in around 1183 BC by the Trojan prince Antenor.

After the Fall of Troy, Antenor led a group of Trojans and their Paphlagonian allies, the Eneti or Veneti, who lost their king Pylaemenes to settle the Euganean plain in Italy. Thus, when a large ancient stone sarcophagus was exhumed in the year 1274, officials of the medieval commune declared the remains within to be those of Antenor. An inscription by the native Humanist scholar Lovato dei Lovati placed near the tomb reads:

This sepulchre excavated from marble contains the body of the noble Antenor who left his country, guided the Eneti and Trojans, banished the Euganeans and founded Padua.

More recent tests suggest the sepulchre dates to the between the 4th and 3rd centuries BC.

Nevertheless, archeological remains confirm an early date for the foundation of the center of the town to between the 11th and 10th centuries BC. By the 5th century BC, Padova rose on the banks of the river Brenta and was one of the principal centers of the Veneti.

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The Roman historian Livy records an attempted invasion by the Spartan king Cleonimos around 302 BC. The Spartans came up the river but were defeated by the Veneti in a naval battle and gave up the idea of conquest.

Still later, the Veneti of Padua successfully repulsed invasions by the Etruscans and Gauls. According to Livy and Silius Italicus, the Veneti, including those of Padova, formed an alliance with the Romans by 226 BC against their common enemies, first the Gauls and then the Carthaginians. Men from Padova fought and died beside the Romans at Cannae.

With Rome’s northwards expansion, Padova was gradually assimilated into the Roman Republic. In 175 BC, Padova requested the aid of Rome in putting down a local civil war. In 91 BC, Padova, along with other cities of the Veneti, fought with Rome against the rebels in the Social War.

Around 49 (or 45 or 43) BC, Padova was made a Roman municipium under the Lex Julia Municipalis and its citizens ascribed to the Roman tribe, Fabia. At that time the population of the city was perhaps 40,000.

The city was reputed for its excellent breed of horses and the wool of its sheep. In fact, the poet Martial remarks on the thickness of the tunics made there. By the end of the 1st century BC, Padova seems to have been the wealthiest city in Italy outside of Rome.

The city became so powerful that it was reportedly able to raise two hundred thousand fighting men. However, despite its wealth, the city was also renowned for its simple manners and strict morality. This concern with morality is reflected in Livy’s Roman History (XLIII.13.2) wherein he portrays Rome’s rise to dominance as being founded upon her moral rectitude and discipline.

Still later, Pliny, referring to one of his Padovan protégés’ grandmother, Sarrana Procula, lauds her as more upright and disciplined than any of her strict fellow citizens (Epist. i.xiv.6).

Padova also provided the Empire with notable intellectuals. Nearby Abano was the birthplace, and after many years spent in Rome, the deathplace of Livy, whose Latin was said by the critic Asinius Pollio to betray his Patavinitas (q.v. Quintilian, Inst. Or. viii.i.3). Padova was also the birthplace of Thrasea Paetus, Asconius Pedianus, and perhaps Valerius Flaccus.

Christianity was introduced to Padua and much of the Veneto by Saint Prosdocimus. He is venerated as the first bishop of the city. His deacon, the Jewish convert Daniel, is also a saintly patron of the city.

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The history of Padua during Late Antiquity follows the course of events common to most cities of north-eastern Italy. Padua suffered from the invasion of the Huns and was savagely sacked by Attila in 450. A number of years afterward, it fell under the control of the Gothic kings Odoacer and Theodoric the Great.

It was reconquered for a short time by the Byzantine Empire in 540 during the Gothic War. However, depopulation from plague and war ensued.

The city was again seized by the Goths under Totila, but was restored to the Eastern Empire by Narses only to fall under the control of the Lombards in 568. During these years, many of Paduans sought safety in the countryside and especially in the nearby lagoons of what would become Venice.

In 601, the city rose in revolt against Agilulf, the Lombard king who put the city under siege. After enduring a 12-year-long bloody siege, the Lombards stormed and burned the city. Many ancient artifacts and buildings were seriously damaged.

The remains of an amphitheater (the Arena) and some bridge foundations are all that remain of Roman Padua today. The townspeople fled to the hills and later returned to eke out a living among the ruins; the ruling class abandoned the city for the Venetian Lagoon, according to a chronicle. The city did not easily recover from this blow, and Padua was still weak when the Franks succeeded the Lombards as masters of northern Italy.

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At the Diet of Aix-la-Chapelle (828), the duchy and march of Friuli, in which Padova lay, was divided into four counties, one of which took its title from the city of Padova.

The end of the early Middle Ages at Padova was marked by the sack of the city by the Magyars in 899. It was many years before Padua recovered from this ravage.

During the period of episcopal supremacy over the cities of northern Italy, Padova does not appear to have been either very important or very active. The general tendency of its policy throughout the war of investitures was Imperial (Ghibelline) and not Roman (Guelph); and its bishops were, for the most part, of German extraction.

However, under the surface, several important movements were taking place that were to prove formative for the later development of Padova.

At the beginning of the 11th century, the citizens established a constitution, composed of a general council or legislative assembly and a credenza or executive body.

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During the next century they were engaged in wars with Venice and Vicenza for the right of water-way on the Bacchiglione and the Brenta. The city grew in power and self-confidence and in 1138, government was entrusted to two consuls.

The great families of Camposampiero, Este and Da Romano began to emerge and to divide the Paduan district among themselves. The citizens, in order to protect their liberties, were obliged to elect a podestà in 1178. Their choice first fell on one of the Este family.

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A fire devastated Padua in 1174. This required the virtual rebuilding of the city.

The temporary success of the Lombard League helped to strengthen the towns. However, their civic jealousy soon reduced them to weakness again. As a result, in 1236 Frederick II found little difficulty in establishing his vicar Ezzelino III da Romano in Padua and the neighboring cities, where he practised frightful cruelties on the inhabitants. Ezzelino was unseated in June 1256 without civilian bloodshed, thanks to Pope Alexander IV.

Padova then enjoyed a period of calm and prosperity: the basilica of the saint was begun; and the Paduans became masters of Vicenza. The University of Padua (the second university in Italy, after Bologna) was founded in 1222, and as it flourished in the 13th century, Padua outpaced Bologna, where no effort had been made to expand the revival of classical precedents beyond the field of jurisprudence, to become a center of early humanist researches, with a first-hand knowledge of Roman poets that was unrivaled in Italy or beyond the Alps.

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There is so much more to the story of Padova.  I’ll be posting about it soon.