For our first full day in Bologna (pop 390,850 in 2024), we choose to take a guided walking tour. But first, we must get to the tour. We take a new route to the city center, past the Basilica di San Francesco (13th century). Here, the streetscape is interrupted by the Tombe dei Glossatori (late 13th century), and in the middle of traffic, in the Piazza Malpighi, the La Colonna dell'Immacolata (Tedeschi & Reni, 1638).
We make our way to the Torre dell'Orologio (15th century) and the Piazza Maggiore. We meet our guide in the Palazzo del Podestà (early 13th century).
We walk through to the side of the Podestà, the building known as the Palazzo Re Enzo (13th century), where Enzo of Svevia was imprisoned. Our guide points out the memorials on the back of the Podestà, and we notice another wreath like the one on the Sinagoga Ebraica that we saw yesterday.
The Biblioteca Salaborsa faces us on the other side of the Piazza del Nettuno. The 'swallowtail' merlons of the corbeled parapet are infield with brick panels and arches, which allows for the extension of the additional floors. These 'swallowtail' merlons appear to be on many of the walls of the Palazzo d'Accursio and other buildings around the Piazza and show that the folks in these buildings are ghibellini (supporters of Enzo and the Emperor and as opposed to the Pope).
There we see the Sacrario dei Caduti della Resistenza a wide collection of small portraits, like yearbook pictures. On closer inspection, we see that they are more like mugshots and remind us of the Museu de Aljube. And in the pavement, a series of brass markers memorializes those lost during the Strage di Bologna (train station bombing, 1980). Clearly, Bologna is a city full of conflicts and memories – already, so many wreaths.
In the middle of all these ghosts stands the Fontana di Nettuno (Laureti & Giambologna, 16th century), with the great water god and his tridente and the lactating quattro nereidi energetically trying to fill the tank. This is still a functional water source, providing for the city, though it's not running right now.
Our guide brings us to one end of the Piazza, and points down the two main streets, built on old Roman roads. The Via dell'Indipendenza runs to the north, and the Via Francesco Rizzoli run to the east. More traces of Etruscan and Roman construction are on display in the basement of the Sala Borsa.
We enter the courtyard of the Palazzo d'Accursio ('Palazzo Comunale', 14th century) for a quick look around. The faintly pink brick walls set off the red window shutters (blinds). A cornice full of brackets with exaggerated faces glares down. To access the upper levels, there are long, flat stairs designed for the rich and noble horsemen of Bologna.
On the exterior, a large bronze statue of the Papa Gregorio XIII (Galeazzo Alessi, 1580) sits over the entrance. The Bolognese Pope who codified the Calendario Gregoriano (1582) gazes down with an ominous grin. Meanwhile, the terracotta Madonna di Piazza (Niccolò dell'Arca, 1478) provides a more serene presence.
The Basilica's facade is half-finished, but features the Porta Magna (Jacopo della Quercia, 15th century) and the ten square relief panels that relate Il Storie della Genesi. A composition of four figures, Madonna col Bambino e i Santi Ambrogio e Petronio, fills the tympanum; note on the Madonna's left, San Petronio holding the Basilica. Five scenes, Storie del Nuovo Testamento, are in the lintel and the Profeti line the decorative archway. Even the Corinthian column capitals repeat repeat their helices below a wavy, continuous abacus.
The guide brings us to the eastern aisle, the lato del vangelo. There are several fascinating chapels on this side. The Cappella di Sant'Abbondio, site of the Imperial Coronation of Charles V in 1530 (neo-Gothic, 1865). The Cappella di San Petronio (Alfonso Torreggiani, 18th century) is darker and more dramatic. But the rest of the walls and vaults in the aisles and nave are bright and unadorned, as if to emphasize the Basilica's scale.
Scenes from the Passion are over the western porta, including L'Ultima Cena, with La Deposizione in the tympanum. The treatment of the pediment and the small spires on each side suggest how the Porta Magna may have appeared if finished.
The unfinished facade does not prepare us for the size of the church: 132 meters long, 60 wide, with a vault height of 44.27 meters. Compare this to the Duomo di Firenze: 153 meters long, 38 meters wide (no chapels, 90m at the transepts), and vaults of about 45 meters.
She asks us to look down to La Meridiana di Cassini, established by named for the astronomer Giovanni Domenico Cassini in 1655. The Linea Meridiana is a brass line set into the terrazzo and graduated with astrological and seasonal plaques. She notes the elliptical form, the 'Capricorn' goat, the text "SOLSTITIVM HYBERNVM". The line begins the inside of the eastern jamb of the Porta Manga. just missing the first column base and cutting into the eastern aisle for almost the full length of the worship space up to the chancel. She further notes the circular form, the 'Cancer' crab, the text "SOLSTITIVM / ÆSTIVVM".
The source of the sunlight is a hole pierced into the vault of the aisle above the oculus between the seventh and eight chapels, with a beautifully painted 'sunburst' in the concave roundel. It is like the meridiana line that we saw last fall in the Duomo di Milano, but more assured, celebrated, or at least harder to ignore.
The end plaque is covered in pigeon feathers and dirt, proof that the Punctum Verticale is directly below the hole.
The Linea Meridiana ends at the Cappella di San Giacomo with its altar of the Madonna in Trono (Lorenzo Costa, 1492) and among the most handsome vetrata policroma in the church (also by Costa). This chapels contains the tombs of Principe Felice Baciocchi and wife Elisa Bonaparte (sister of the French Emperor, 1845).
Opposite this chapel on the lato dell'epistola, the Cappella di Sant'Antonio da Padova holds a statue of the saint and paintings by Girolamo da Treviso (16th century). The vetrata policroma rosettes are by Perugino (early 16th century), the eight saints are by Pellegrino Tibaldi (late 16th century) – something like a 'Brady Bunch Effect' happening here.
La Capella Maggiore utilizes an amazing, layered effect, with the glowing gold of the 15th-century wooden crucifix suspended in the grayish stone of Il Ciborio del Vignola (Jacopo Barozzi da Vignola, 1547). In the apse behind the Ciborio are the pastels colors of a large fresco of the Madonna con San Petronio (Franceschini, Quaini & Cignani, 17th century).
Our guide tells us that the Ciborio is near the Basilica's planned crossing, but the enormous dome and transepts were never built. She relates a legend that this church would have rivaled San Pietro in Vaticano, so the Pope (Pius IV) ordered the construction of the Archiginnasio next door, blocking the expansion. So, the facade is not the only part left unfinished; the Basilica should be 224 meters long with a transept 158 meters wide.
Returning to entrance of the Basilica, the guide focuses our attention on the Cappella dei Re Magi, near the Cappella di San Petronio. Here, the wall and vault surfaces are richly frescoed (Giovanni da Modena, c1410; Pietro Francesco Alberti, 16th century). On the right are the Storie dei Re Magi, the three eastern kings traveling to and from La Natività (lower left panel). The central wall around the altarpiece contains the Episodi della Vita di San Petronio (retrieving and returning the relics of San Floriano to Bologna), framing the glass panels of the apostoli and the quattro evangelisti (Jacopo di Paolo, 1404-06).
Next, she asks us to look to the left side of the chapel, where we find il Giudizio Universale – a stunning Last Judgement scene. Unusually, L'Incoronazione della Vergine is shown in the mandorla, rather than Christ in judgement (Father God looking appropriately 'Christmas-y'). The mandorla is among the saints and angels in Il Paradiso. Below, following a description by Dante (an alunno dell'Università di Bologna), the penitent pray patiently in the pews of Il Purgatorio. At the lower edge of this register, between the pews, is San Michele, with his sword and scales.
In the lower register, of course, is l'Inferno, with Lucifero devouring the wicked. Controversially, and the reason for the armed guards, the fresco depicts Machomet[us] (Muhammad, His name in Latin) being tortured on the rock just above Lucifero's left shoulder.
This stop at the Cappella dei Re Magi also affords a closer look at the frescoed vault of the Cappella di San Petronio, and the magnificent reliquary altar designed to keep the saint's head (Francesco Giardoni, 18th century).
These two chapels, along with the Cappella di Sant'Antonio give us a sense of the intended Gothic appearance of the Basilica. Medieval frescos show up as samples on the walls and between the vault ribs. For example, near the Cappella dei Re Magi, the large portrait of (we assume) San Petronio, holding the martyr's palm and noticing an angel who carries the Basilica in a literal 'thought bubble'. And next to the Cappella di San Petronio, the wonderful but damaged image of La Vergine in Trono.
In front of La Vergine, the Croce dei Santi Apostoli ed Evangelisti (restored 1159, from 5th-6th century original) is one of 'Le Quattro Croci', Early Christian instruments of protection that would have been at the gates of the city walls (like in Alfaiates). And just below the San Petronio, the 'Due Orologi' are the first timepieces in Italy to incorporate the la correzione del pendolo (two clocks, two time systems, one pendulum, set at noon vs the Meridiana; Domenico Maria Fornasini, 1758).
This fascination with accurate calendars and time-telling is connected to the calculation of Easter (recall Il Calendario Pasquale from Ravenna), and coincidently, the day that Dante and Virgil arrive in Purgatorio, precisely at six in the morning, near the vernal equinox:
Già era ’l sole a l’orizzonte giuntolo cui meridïan cerchio coverchiaIerusalèm col suo più alto punto;e la notte, che opposita a lui cerchia,uscia di Gange fuor con le Bilance,che le caggion di man quando soverchia;sì che le bianche e le vermiglie guance,là dov’ i’ era, de la bella Auroraper troppa etate divenivan rance.[By now the sun was crossing the horizonof the meridian whose highest pointcovers Jerusalem; and from the Ganges,night, circling opposite the sun, was movingtogether with the Scales that, when the lengthof dark defeats the day, desert night's hands;so that, above the shore that I had reached,the fair Aurora's white and scarlet cheekswere, as Aurora aged, becoming orange.]Dante Alighieri, "Divina Commedia", Purgatorio, Canto II, 1-9, trans Mandelbaum, NY Bantam, 1984)
Leaving from the eastern Porta, we walk down to the wall where the eastern transept would have been. Here, the bricks turn ragged, the masonry equivalent of studs on a Lego, ready for the next piece. The stonework at the water table is sliced like a wedding cake, and an incredible pair of lancet windows turn the corner. At the surface of the cut, the timber pockets for the scaffolding remain, along with the rough edges of the pointed arch for the vault near the roof.
Standing in the way of the transept is the Archiginnasio (16th century), with its the intention of housing the various disciplines of the Studium in one building. Nowadays, it is a public library.
Our guide allows us to enjoy the colorful porticato interno with the family crests of the graduates playfully applied on the walls and ceilings.
Of course, many of the Portici di Bologna are embellished with vibrant designs. We walk around and through the Quadrilatero (L'Antico Mercato), enjoy the colors and gawk at the handmade pasta, fresh produce, and seafood.
We arrive at the Due Torri (both, 12th century), and discuss unstable bricks and failing reinforcement, while standing in the 'splash zone' of the threatened towers. The cheerfully patterned shuttering around the foundations hides several substantial steel frames, also painted bright red, designed to protect the adjacent properties and oblivious tourists from the repercussion of the disastrous tilt.
We walk around the crane in the Piazza della Mercanzia. Our guide tells us the crane is not for the Torri, but for the buildings just to the north of the Torre Alberici (12th century). The optimistic investors of the renovation project are clearly true believers.
We continue into the Piazza Santo Stefano for the tour's end. Though we were here last night, in the daylight the details of the Piazza come alive. There are animal heads in the column capitals and human heads in the lunettes between the arches. There are more faces in the cornices and the tympanums.
The play of perspective in the triangular Piazza is pronounced, like a streetscape by Giorgio de Chirico, haunted by an emptiness with red blinds, brick arcades, and remote towers. But in this case, the palazzi and portici are haunted by hordes. We see their snarls and smiles, their fearsome stares. We look at them; they look at us.
The city of Bologna is filled with portentous and poignant portraits; there are monuments, memorials, omens, judgements. They are the witnesses and evidence that the progressive and outspoken Bolognesi are familiar with consequences. Frozen faces in deep, earthy tones mark the passage of time yet remain impossibly suspended between redemption and doom – and that uniquely Bolognese 'third option': unfinished. To paraphrase Dante, 'scarlet cheeks become orange'.
On the way home from dinner, we notice more soldiers near the wreath of the Sinagoga Ebraica, braving the cold, keeping the watch.
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