Our last hours in
Napoli (pop 908,082 in 2025) and we wake to some decent weather, but the weather app says it won't last. Leaving our bags at the hotel, we return to the
Piazza del Gesù Nuovo. The morning sun on the
Guglia dell'Immacolata (above, Giuseppe Genoino, 17th-18th centuries) is spectacular.
We are taking the advice of
the Director from
our tour of
Puglia – asked about sights to see, he mentioned just one place, the
Cappella Sansevero (late 16th century) and its
eighteenth-century sculptures. We have reserved tickets for 8:45 this morning; when we arrived, we tried to reserve tickets, but they were sold out on Monday, and the Museo is closed on Tuesdays. That leaves a window before today's flight home.
The Cappella is the mid-eighteenth century project of
Raimondo di Sangro, the seventh
Principe di Sansevero – a scientist, inventor, and writer. But the Cappella dates from 1590, when it was founded by Giovan Francesco di Sangro, the first
Principe. Unfortunately, photography is prohibited, so all our images are from
Museo Cappella Sansevero.
The Cappella is both grand and intimate, and there are dozens of live-sized statues. The space is dressed in veined, honey-colored stone and trimmed in white. There are four shallow, arched chapels on each side and an altar space at the far (north) end. The capitals resemble
Corinthian and
Tuscan, an unusual combination, but the architecture is secondary. The ceiling is ablaze with
tromp-l'œil vaults,
grisaille reliefs, and a flurry of angels. But the centerpiece is the "
Cristo Velato" ('veiled Christ', 1753) by
Giuseppe Sanmartino: the body of Christ under a 'transparent' sheet.
SIC FLORET DECORO DECUS
[thus beauty blooms with grace]
Many of our timed group is gathered around the "
Cristo", so we hang back. We use the inital full bay to our left (west) as a 'sampler'. Under the arch is the "
Monumento a Giovan Francesco di Sangro" (attr Giacomo Lazzari, early 17th century), the tomb of the first
Principe di Sansevero; he wears his armor and a ruffled collar.
The
Monumento is flanked by two allegorical firgures. "
Liberalità" (Queirolo, 1753-54) stands on the left, with an eagle and a cornucopia of money and jewels; a portrait and dedication to
Giulia Gaetani d'Aragona (wife of the 4th prince) is in the roundel above. "
Zelo della Religione" (attr Fortunato Onelli & Celebrano et al, c1767) is on the right and shows a figure to the side hold a lamp while snakes slither between the pages of the books at his feet; the dedication is incorporated into the piece, with the portraits of the two wives of Giovan Francesco held by
putti.
The last figure on the west side is "
Pudicizia" ('modesty', Corradini, 1752), a thinly veiled female nude with a swag of roses. A tour de force in carving skill, the figure also holds a broken corner of a large tablet or tombstone. The work is dedicated to Cecilia Gaetani dell'Aquila d'Aragona, Raimondo di Sangro's mother who died soon after giving birth:
Eternal peace to Cecilia Gaetani dell'Aquila d'Aragona … celebrated for her social graces, manners, intellect, charity, devotion, and loyalty which were outstanding enough to make her know as one of the most kind and chosen women of all times. She lived to be 20 years old and died on December 26, 1710. Her son, Raimondo de Sangro Prince of Sansevero, raised this monument in honor of his unequalled mother so that she would always be remembered for her exception virtues. (Fazio Macci, "Chapel of Sansevero Museum", trans Kishori Koch, Alfa Grafica, 2016)
We turn from the side chapels to take a close look at the "Cristo Velato". The artistic magic lies not only in the rendering of the sheer fabric, but in the way the subject's expression comes through the cloth, and the anatomy and skeletal structure is tangible below the cloth and the skin. And it's not only the veil, but the softness of the pillows, the tensions of the bedding, the details in the darker carpet of the platform. The inclusion of the crown of thorns, pliers, and nails goes way beyond 'showing off'.
Contrasting the "
Cristo Velato" with its neighbor, the "
Pudicizia", connects life and death, with the subtext ("
Noli Me Tangere") foretelling the Resurrection. This is Christ
lying in state.
We complete the tour of allegorical sculptures on the eastern side. First, "
Disinganno" ('disenchantment', Queirolo, 1753-54) counterpoints the "
Pudicizia" on the other side of the
altare, and is dedicated to Antonio di Sangro, Duca di Torremaggiore, Raimondo's father. Here, an angel works to free a man caught in a thick net, freeing his father from his grief. A relief of "
Gesù che Dona la Vista al Cieco" ('
Christ and the blind man') is in the base, again as a response to the "
Noli Me Tangere", the miracle of healing. A book is open with to following verses:
- VINCULA TUA DISRUMPAM / NAHUM CAP. I, VERS. XIII
- VINCULA TENEBRARUM ET LONGÆ NOCTIS QUIBUS ES COMPEDITUS / SAPIENTIÆ CAP. XXII, VERS. II
- UT NON CUM HOC MUNDO DAMNERIS. / PAUL'I. AD CORIN. CAP. XI, VERS. XXXII.
["
I will burst thy bonds asunder / those bonds of darkness and long night with which you are fettered / so that you will not be condemned with this world."]
(Wikipedia)
The sculptural virtuosity is in the intricate netting, woven from a single block of marble. This trio, Corradini's "Pudicizia", Sanmartino's "Cristo Velato", and Queirolo 's "Disinganno", gives each artist a moment to shine – they truly shine. But arranged as a group by Raimondo di Sangro, the relationships between the three tell a powerful, personal story and reflect a son's love for his parents and his faith.
Raimondo honors his wife in the next piece, "
Sincerità" (Queirolo, 1754-55). This figures plays with the "
Soavità del Giogo Coniugale" opposite' she holds a single heart and a
caduceus, and the
putto plays with two turtle doves (as opposed to the pelican chick).
The "
Domino di Sé Stessi" ('self-domain', Celebrano, 1767) incorporates the portrait relief of Girolama Lofreddo (Raimondo's paternal grandmaother), again like the "
Zelo della Religione" on the other side. Instead of serpents and texts, here we have a lion in chains.
Finally, "
Educazione" (Queirolo, 1753) presents a woman teaching a young boy, with the inscription: "
EDUCATIO ET DISCIPLINA MORES FACIUNT" ('education and discipline form good morals'); the boy holds "
De Officiis" by
Cicerone, a text explaining moral duties.
The ceiling '
volta' is covered with the "
Gloria del Paradiso" (
Francesco Maria Russo, 1749). Rather than tying the chapel together, the colors and dynamism are so 'over the top', it borders on distraction. Angels break through an opening in the roof, as the Holy Spirit shines towards
l'altare maggiore and the "
Cristo Velato", with the Latin text: "
MATER PIETATIS" ('mother of piety').
We exit from the '
cavea sotterranea' and stop to wonder at the "
Macchine Anatomiche" (
Giuseppe Salerno, 1756-64), another of Raimondo's projects. The couple may be more macabre than the sights in the Chiesa del Purgatorio, skeletons covered with silk and wax to model the circulatory system.
The visit takes less time than we anticipated, undoubtedly because our iPhones are in our pockets. Out of the gift shop door, we hear and see the steady rain is back. We hurriedly make our way to the
Monastero di Santa Chiara (14th-17th centuries). One thing we don't want to do is board a plane soaking wet, but we also don't want to miss opportunities to see new things.
We pay for entry and head for the bathrooms near the gift shop to 'towel-off'. And the Monastero doesn't disappoint, especially the '
Chiostro Maiolicato' (
Domenico Antonio Vacaro, 1739-42). Strangely, the sun is out while the rain pours down. The damp and verdant garden sparkles through the refracted haze; the tiled curbs and columns pick up and multiply those colors. Thus, the
Chiostro feels less contemplative, and more celebratory.
A wide stair leads from the
Chiostro to the '
Coro delle Monache' (nun's choir). At the landing we can see into the '
Sala con Affreschi Cinquecenteschi' (1500's fresco room). Though the
Sala is not open to the public, we can readily see the "
Giudizio Universale" on the wall to the left. The history of the Monastero includes a visit from
Giotto, who painted "
Storie del Vecchio Testamento" and "
L'Apocalisse" (1328-33) in the
Coro, but they were destroyed during
the bombings of WWII – perhaps these frescos are an attempt to 'fill that Giotto-shaped hole', at least in spirit.
On the facing wall, there is the lovely "
Annunciazione" scene in the
Gothic tympanum, as well as the "
Adorazione dei Pastori" (Nativity) just below. The smaller panels include the "
Vite di Santi", portraits of saints (
Sant'Andrea by the 'X' cross, for example).
We step down to the peristyle and continue towards the
Museo dell'Opera and the bathrooms. The "
Storie Francescane" frescos on and walls carry messages of
Franciscan devotion, followed by the '
Monache Clarisse'. The
affreschi maintain a horizon line and clear sky down the length of the
Chiostro.
After a closer look at the tiles on the curbs, we recognize the story of Napoli and
Vesuvio, tying the nuns' devotional practice and the nervous reality of this city.
Museo dell'Opera showcases more remnants and remains from the WWII bombing of the church. Because of this, the exhibits are all in pieces, rather than full artworks. Still, they are fascinating, and the presentations attempt to connect the pieces, with their layout and with photos.
For example, the
Sala dei Marmi structures these fragments on panels or in frames that show this fragmentation. The photos below diagram the relationships between the elements in the frieze of "
Le Storie di Santa Caterina d'Alessandria" (14th century), with
gruesome images of martyrdom (so glad they found the little bit with her head).
The pieces in the
Sala dei Reliquiari survive intact but have lost their context. But the objects are varied and beautiful: the silver bust of "
San Bartolomeo Apostolo" (Francesco Leone, 1470), the processional drape of "
Santa Chiara" (17th century), and a lineup of polychrome busts (including "
Ecce Homo" sculpted by
Giovanni da Nola in 1520 and "
San Giovanni Dolente" attributed to Giovanni Bertini from the first half of the 14th century).
We finish a circuit of the Chiostro as the weather calms. The taller windows along the southern arcade create spaces for individualized saints, which are conveniently labeled. These panels also share a continuous landscape of trees and doorways, accompanied by angels with symbolic objects in the upper register.
A few visitors venture out among the tiled posts, but the western viale, the longest of the four, is closed for renovation.
The '
Chiostro Maiolicato' fortunately escaped damage from WWII and consists of long benches with 'arched' backs between octagonal columns. The columns are wrapped with spiraling garlands of grapes, lemons, and sunflowers.
The scenes depicted in the seatbacks include seascapes, vignettes of village life, and allegorical illustrations – in blue and golds, and touched with greens and browns.
Tucked in to the northeastern corner is a room with the Monastero's "
Presepe" (18th century), much larger than anything from
yesterday's walk along '
La Via dei Presepi'. The
Bambino Gesù is under a stone arch next to the
Vergine Maria and
San Giuseppe at the top of a sharp hill. Angels sit on the columns and ruined walls, with the
Stella di Betlemme centered in the archway.
The Magi are on the hill to the left in crimson robes. Villagers and livestock, including a camel (?) fill the lower portion of the Presepe. An 'urban' area is to the left of the scene, with townsfolk watching the miraculous birth from their balconies.
Because the Gothic
Basilica di Santa Chiara (1313-40) was rebuilt in 1953, the interior is simple and plain. But there are moments of color and and expression, like the Museo, a church reassembled from parts. The church has its own "
Presepe" under glass near the entrance.
The 'rebuilt' nature of the chapels is exemplified by the
Altare Maggiore. Behind the "
Crocifisso Ligneo", the altarpiece appears to be pile of Gothic architectural elements and carvings: a pointed arch with damaged and broken columns, the figure of
Roberto d'Angiò ("
ROBERTUM REGEM"), a mourning scene of the "Pietà", an arcade with saints, large tombs on either side, and a lacey Gothic altar table.
We make one last stop at the
Chiesa del Gesù Nuovo (15th-18th centuries).
Yesterday's visit with such bad light demands a quick revisit. We are struck by the visual contrast between the structural components and the warm tones of the decorative vaulting – everything is more vibrant.
We return to the eastern lateral Cappella del Sacro Cuore di Gesù, now unoccupied, to get a better look at the dome and the "
Sacrificio di Aronne" (Gaetano D'Apuzzo, 1790). We're disappointed to see how much water damage has affected the fresco. Exiting, we also get another look a the heroic "
Cacciata di Eliodoro dal Tempio" (
Francesco Solimena, 1725), and that looks like
a whole other painting.
We owe Napoli another visit; the weather fenced us into a tiny area in the historic center. We simply don't have a fair or complete impression of the city – though what we saw was fun and amazing. We look forward to it (plus there's pizza).
