Because nothing says "Happy New Year" . . .

. . . like new panties!

(Go over to eternally cool if you want to know why.)

Meanwhile, though I wish I were in Rome, I'm not, so from here in the Upstate (where I have some gnocchi alla romana to make for tonight's dinner) I am wishing you and yours a happy and healthy 2008.

Me? I'm hoping for a year of healing and getting stronger.

See y'all on the other side!

Museums: cemeteries!

The Futurists and vandals among you might be interested in this little stunt.

I piu' forti semo noi.

Niobe wants to know, "what city would you most like to spend a reasonably extended amount of time in?"

Roma, hands down. No question. Undoubtedly. There is not a close second.

In fact, I have tried my best to spend as much time there as possible, and I keep trying to find ways to spend even more.

And no, Tony, this is not all about Francesco Totti!

Have you ever walked around the Gianicolo park in the evening in the summer time? At the end of a hot day, when there are people milling around, puppet shows going on, ice cream for sale, and some of the most amazing views in the world? There is something about that evening light from that spot that makes that haze of the city go away, and even if you are exhausted from sightseeing or reading or writing or drinking wine, you just want to stand and stare.

How can you resist a city where almost every church you pass has something amazing in it--a pantokrater mosaic or a Caravaggio or a Bernini or spooky relics or a Michelangelo statue or frescoes by Filippino Lippi Raphael or just the overpowering Baroque architecture of the counter-reformation. Everywhere there are little bees or Monte di Paschi or keys or any number of other carved symbols associated with significant families that birthed numerous popes. There are little details like a trompe-l'oeil dome, or a dome made entirely of white carving or tiny swirled columns in cloisters, or Cosmati flooring. Fountains are filled with river gods or smiling suns or turtles or saints or mermen. In almost every piazza is an Egyptian obelisk stolen by the Caesars and then commandeered by some pope or another. Everything gets made, used, used again for something else.

I love riding the Roman busses, too, where you have to get your bus legs under you, in order not to be dumped into someone's lap, or crash into a signora and risk being chastised by all the other people on the bus. Attenzione alla signora! I am hungry to hear permesso spoken on a crowded bus in that wonderful romano accent.

I remember one time during a bus strike on a hot day in Rome. The strike ended at 6 p.m. sharp, so the busses running at that time were packed with people. I was sitting with a friend on a wall near the Fori Imperiali and one of those hilarious little mini-busses pulled up to a stop in front of us--packed, needless to say, which was even more hilarious because the bus was so tiny. "Permesso, permesso, permesso," my friend started saying, and we could not stop from laughing even though I expect if the people on the bus could have heard us, they would have pointed out how unfunny that was.

I love quirky Italianness, and the further south you get, the quirkier and stranger Italy gets, I think. Things in Torino or Milano or Verona or even Venezia just seem so much more logical than in Rome, where the price of stamps depends on which tabacchi you go to, traffic flows and halts according to invisible rhythms, frequently churches are closed for no reason, elevators are always guasto, bus routes frequently change, and no one blinks an eye. My favorite is an excellent restaurant near the Campo dei Fiori where (and I expect this only happens when you ask for the specials in Italian) the owner explained that there were gnocchi on the menu, "because today is Thursday." I suppose there are actual explanations for these things, but when you are there, and just trying to figure things out, it is mysterious.

(Mystery has lessened somewhat with the arrival of the Euro, if only because prices have so many fewer zeroes.)

The summer is insanely hot, and there are so few places that are air conditioned, that sweating, and being hot, and just moving a little slower become an inevitable part of life. Oh, and frequent showers. The library where I spent a lot of time had enormous windows that opened out on a garden. They were angled such that strong breezes would blow through, and they were scented of rosemary and lavendar.

When I worked in my own little studio room, I would almost always spend the morning writing in the dark, with my metal window shade pulled down against the sun, trying to move as little as possible, and wondering whether the industrial-strength hurricane-force ceiling fan was well installed.

And then, after a morning's work, when it is getting too hot to think clearly, I could wander around that city forever, finding remarkable ancient things, strange modern things, surprising advertisements, startling catcalls, not to mention millions of actual cats. Or sit for a while in a cafe and sweat while drinking a dense espresso, or go try another couple of flavors of gelato--or why not all of these, over time?

Blame Scott.

Scott wrote, "Thanks for the pictures 'cause you're absolutely right, visiting the Foro Italico with only three days in Rome was indeed way down on my list of things to see and do. Truthfully it wasn't even on our list! But now that you've perked my interest I must google this and take a better look at it."

Apparently Scott does not know me well enough to know not to even vaguely encourage me to talk about Mussolini's impact on the city of Rome. I tried to play it cool by connecting to Timed Finals before, but now someone has shown interest and you will all pay.

First, Scott mentioned googling the Foro Italico, which I realized was something I had not done, so here are a couple of links to sites with decent information and photos.

Italy Cyber Guide gives a little of the post-Mussolini history of the site (PP and I were trying to remember when the Olympics were in Rome. He guessed 1964 and was close: 1960). They include a photo of the entire track and you can see the little muscular dudes ringing it, even though they look like little white specks. If you are looking for more close-ups, you might consult this book, which provides thirty-some excellent b&w images of the statues. And this is an absolutely awesome article about the pool and its mosaics--with tons of excellent clear well-lit butt-shots--I mean photographs of the mosaics--definitely check it out.

Sporty types and especially soccer types might be interested to know that the Stadio Olimpico was renovated in 1990 for the World Cup, and that both AS Roma and SS Lazio play there. I see that the Italian Open tennis tournament also happens there. If you read Italian (and really, even if you do not), Wikipedia has a decent, if very brief entry about it, with a couple more photos. And if you want a look for yourself, why not book a night at the Youth Hostel just up the street? Oh right, because we are not really youth anymore. Curses.

But those of you who have visited Roma on a tight itinerary have also seen Mussolini's impact. How could you miss it? He was the dictator of "clear out the detritus" and "let's build wide avenues I can hold parades on."

Did you approach St. Peter's this way?


Before Mussolini's day, you could not have, as the only way into its piazza was through windy little streets. He cleared out a big section of town--full of neighborhoods of windy streets--to build this avenue. If you were to go to the Vatican back in the day, and walk into that piazza, then the world's longest basilica would scare the bejeezus out of you because it is SO MASSIVE, and it is almost impossible to get all of it into your eyeballs. But thanks to the via della Conciliazione, you can watch it grow from a great distance, and get used to it before you walk in. Is that the reconciliation? Or was Benito trying to keep the Vatican from sneaking up on him?

I am certain that most Roman itineraries include a journey to the Roman Forum, and perhaps some of the other fora, like the Forum of Augustus, the Markets of Trajan, etc. Well, before Mussolini, there was not a vast avenue through the middle of those, either. I am talking about the road (now called via dei Fori Imperiali, then called via dell' Impero) that connects the Piazza Venezia (and the Palazzo Venezia, home of his famous balcony) to the Colosseum.



You probably traveled on or looked down that road, but you may not have noticed these maps:

There is a whole series of them, built into a retaining wall, and they document the various stages of the Roman empire--something our Benito was very interested in.

What about these flagpoles?


After the war, Italians broke the hatchet heads off the fasci, but they are still fasci! Anyway, Mussolini built this road specifically to make a connection between his government, housed in the Palazzo Venezia, and ancient Rome. He was subtle that way. And never mind the important archaeological material lurking underneath that roadway.

There is more--like the church that Mussolini had moved so that it would not be in the way of one of his building schemes. Or the various houses--many of them dating from the medieval period--that were demolished to make the tomb of Augustus (previously a closed-in concert venue with amazing acoustics) more visible. But these, my friends, are stories for another day.

In international swimming news...

Timed Finals notes that Rome is doing renovations in preparation for the (aquatic) World Championships, to be held in 2009 in the city's Foro Italico.

Have you been to Rome? And if so, have you visited the Foro Italico?

I bet you have not, unless you were there for a good while, or have a particular interest in architecture of the Mussolini era. (That obelisk reads "MUSSOLINI," btw.) The sports facilities were built then, and originally called the Foro Mussolini--that's right, an echo of the many other fora in the city from the city's ancient imperial period. Hmmmm... I wonder why Benito was so interested in that era.... Anyway, the Foro Italico is well outside the historical center, requiring a rather elaborate busride (with connections), so that, combined with fascism's non-hotness means hardly anyone sees it.

Anyway, the now-called Foro Italico is in a bit of disrepair.

Nevertheless, short of EUR, it is the best example of how Mussolini's urban vision wanted to build a modern version of ancient Rome.

Check out the statues encircling the running track:

Talk about muscular male athleticism! An entire statue series dedicated to the male bum.

There is a piazza there with (frankly) amazing black and white mosaics. They are an imitation of mosaics discovered at Ostia Antica, an ancient Roman city located between the actual city of Rome and the sea. Here is an example of a mosaic from Ostia:

And here is what the mosaics in the Foro Italico look like:


You probably cannot read the entire text, but it says, "L'Italia ha finalmente il suo impero," or "Italy finally has its empire"--taken from a speech given by Il Duce when Ethiopia was conquered. Some empire. (And sorry for the weird angle: have you ever taken good pictures of floor mosaics?)

Anyway, the natatorium also has some pretty elaborate mosaics, celebrating human athleticism.


I wonder what these "restorations" will look like. I am not a fan of fascism, but it would be a horrible shame if this remaining relic of Mussolini's vision were wiped from the face of a city that bears so many traces of so many visions.

[UPDATE: There is more about the Foro Italico and the wider context of Mussolini's city plan for Rome at "Blame Scott."]