Arrivederci Perugia!
Hope to Visit Again Next Year
I was hoping to be in Perugia this week, at least virtually, to partake in the inimitable International Journalism Festival (IJF) by following its sessions and learning from colleagues what they’d been up to in our field.
But the 2020 IJF was canceled “due to public health concerns” in Italy — understandably so — given the disastrous toll the coronavirus has taken. The aim is to revive it next year.
The festival is an amazing annual event grouping a solid mix of journalists, academics, activists, innovators, philanthropists and more, from across the world in a delightful hospitable Italian environment
That charming town in the region of Umbria some two hours north of Rome is right out of central casting.
As I’d directed and studied Shakespearean plays in my college days, it really felt like one of our stage sets when I first went two years ago and promised myself I’d go back.
Sadly, the coronavirus and other hindrances prevented my journey.
As I was researching the art, architecture and cultural heritage of the town through a museum I visited, I stumbled across a morbid piece of information dating back to the 14th century: Italy, then mostly city states, principalities, and the like, got hit by the plague, the Black Death, that swept through Europe and parts of the Middle East, and Perugia got its share.
According to a paper I found,
Outbreaks of the Black Death were recognized in March in Lucca and in the surrounding countryside of le Sei Miglia and Florence, in late March or early April in Pistoia, in (late March or) early April in Perugia (in Umbria), in April Pisa, Siena, Orvieto (in Umbria, there was huge mortality by 1 May), and in Bologna and as far away as Naples at the end of March — a big city also exposed to importation of contaminated grain and flour from Calabria and Sicily (see Chronicon Estense [AA.VV., 1729]).
It’s a scary time for locked down Italians who currently rank third worldwide after the U.S. and Spain in terms of losses to the coronavirus, and they have yet to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
But one should also remember they shone a bright light for all of us from centuries ago. We continue to enjoy the fruits of the Renaissance, and to say that all of Italy is a museum would be an understatement.
As I go through my photos and videos, I find a wealth of memories, including of a visit to the National Gallery of Umbria, on the upper floors of the Palazzo dei Priori, the Priors’ Palace (now also closed because of the corona crisis).
The impressive collection includes paintings, sculptures and fabrics from the 13th to the 19th centuries, with a preponderance seemingly dedicated to religious themes. There’s no escaping the Catholic Church’s influence.
The Marzolini Triptych by Maestro del Trittico di Perugia, painted between 1275 and 1280, depicting the Madonna and child in the center, with the side panels recounting the stories of the Annunciation, the life of Christ, as well as tales of Saints Francis and Chiara, all against a golden background, is a prime example.
According to a museum description, the work expresses both a sophisticated Middle Eastern language and absolutely Western accents.
The Crucifix of Maestro di San Francesco al Prato, painted in 1272 in tempera on wood is another of the masterpieces of that era.
The upper part shows Christ hanging from the cross, the top segment is an illustration of a prayerful Madonna among angels, the central tablets show Mary and Saint John the Evangelist, while the lower tablet depicts Saint Francis of Assisi.
No matters of Catholicism would be complete without the trappings of church regalia.
There were displays of very elaborately woven clergy’s vestments, mostly in gold thread, or against a yellow/gold background of brocade and silk interlaced with majestic crimson and decorated with images of religious figures.
At every turn, in almost every painting I saw, there were names of saints. The ever-present Madonna and Child, Annunciation and Crucifixion were major themes.
But so were individual saints featured on their own in various works or with other saints as well as with Jesus and Mary.
Elsewhere, I came across an intricately designed, sculpted and engraved piece in gilded copper and silver plates holding the relics of Saint Eutizio by Antonio di Andrea Berardi produced in 1544.
There’s little other description of it, but one can see Jesus at the pinnacle with a long staff topped with a cross presiding over figures of notable characters presumably from the church and nobility of the time, with winged angels and cherubs’ heads just above the pedestal’s legs.
Feeding hungry souls was important, but so was feeding hungry mouths.
So Italian cooks used artistic domestic tools like wafer makers to produce sweet pastries, sometimes stuffed with ground almonds or hazelnuts, and served during official meals such as weddings, or when someone joined the church.
The tools exhibited at the Perugia gallery are from the mid-15th to the end of the 16th century.
Sculpture in Perugia in the second half of the 13th century is on display indoors and outdoors, such as in the Fontana Maggiore, or Maggiore Fountain, that sits majestically in the Piazza Grande across from the Palazzo dei Priori and Cathedral of San Lorenzo (Saint Lawrence).
A bronze sculpture of three women carrying a pitcher from the Maggiore Fountain, reportedly created between 1277 and 1278, is in one of the gallery’s halls.
The treasures in that museum are too numerous to list or feature in one blogpost. I still have plenty of pictures from the visit.
We stand with Italy during these trying times, as many of us tweeted last month. Cari amici, siamo con voi.
Arrivederci Perugia! Hope to visit again next year.