Mary was sitting there at her desk when I stepped into the little back room adjoining the chapel at Milano’s Cimitero Monumentale – the Monumental Cemetery. Now 87, she’s given her time for close to 20 years, assisting Padre Francesco with the mass, altar flowers and little details.
We spent close to 2 hours chatting after I had surprised her by walking in. I never arrive empty handed; Mary took the fragrant lilies I brought and prepared them in a vase. Her gait is slowed to a shuffle now, yet she can still make it to the other side of the chapel, carrying the flowers to put in front of the Madonna.
A devout woman, with no inkling of doubt, she asked Padre Francesco to give me 3 separate benedictions, which he did at her request. She also pressed another photo of Don Guiseppe Gervasini into my hands and instructed me to carry it next to my identity card so that it would always keep me protected.
During my visit, a drunken, belligerent man came into the chapel. Padre Francesco was away at the time. The man was confrontative and insulting to Mary, much too close, swearing in her face. I was trying to usher him out, and was preparing myself to take a punch to keep him from harming Mary. Fortunately, another woman went off to get father, who deflected the man’s attentions and led him away.
I had first met Mary two years ago, and something as simple as her handwriting has spun me off into a study of Italian penmanship and typography.
After meeting her in 2010, it was touching to say goodbye to her before returning to the U.S. She had pleaded with me to stay.
Warmest congratulations to Glenda and Massimo! Congratulazioni! The two were wed on Saturday, June 9, 2012 on the hill of Cimiez, in the city of Nice, France, along the jewel-toned Côte d’Azur of the French Riviera.
It was a fairytale wedding with a nuptial mass at the Monastery at Cimiez, during which the bride laid a special bouquet at the feet of the Virgin Mary.
A small reception followed in the monastery garden. A few hours later, at the Villa Alvorada, there were appetizers, conversation, dancing and a full (and very ooo-lah-lah delicious) dinner on a high hill at Cap d’Ail, France, overlooking the bay of Monaco (which presented an unexpected fireworks display).
Not only was the bride beautiful and the groom handsome, but also so were their parents. The two bride’s maids wore spring green, matching the bride’s rose bouquet. Rice was thrown. Balloons soared, and champagne was poured in celebration.
Glenda looked every bit the enchanted, contented bride, and Massimo had a new-groom-adoration in his eyes for his dear wife.
I wish them countless years of deep love and tenderness, respect and mutual applause. They have begun their lives in the sight of family and friends, and we all wish them well.
Pope Benedict XVI arrived in Milano yesterday for an evening greeting to the citizens that welcomed him at the Piazza del Duomo (Milano’s central cathedral). The event had slipped my mind, so I didn’t make it, but heard the huge piazza had been filled with thousands of people.
This morning though, I got up early, took the subway into the center of town, rose up into the piazza, and found enough space to squeeze into right against the front barricade. I waited, along with countless others, for the Pope’s arrival.
Why did I go? Some of it was morbid curiosity. Some was sociological observation. Italy is 92% Catholic and I am face-to-face with the Church’s presence, literally, at every turn here. Going to see the Pope was like going to see any other festival or holiday event particular to this country. I went because it would, perhaps, inform me about Italy and her people.
Also, I was raised Catholic, but haven’t followed Catholicism for decades. Still, it’s part of my history and I have family and friends for whom it remains vital.
Of the last 4 years, I have spent an accumulated near-2 years here in Italy. And in these 2 years, I have been to mass and in church more than in all the last 30 years combined. For one, it has seemed a part of the “Italian Experience”. Secondly, I’ve often stepped into a church to shoot photos, and have found myself at the beginning or in the middle of mass, so I stayed. And thirdly, there’s something satiating about the ritual, symbology, artistry and essence of spirituality that speaks to me.
But I can no longer abide by the Catholic Church’s teachings, leadership or system. I feel too much conflict with the Church to be a “good Catholic girl” ever again. There are too many things that amount to an affront to me and to those I love.
Granted, my Catholic upbringing is part of what formed who I am today, and of course that influence will always remain. But anymore, I think that I approach spirituality much like the way I cook: I don’t follow any recipes, and I throw a little of everything into the pot. So Catholicism is but one of the many spices in the soup of who I am.
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I stood for a couple hours at the edge of a crowd of thousands waiting for the Pope to arrive. The church was full-to-the-brim with local “religious”: priests (of all titles and levels) and nuns. The public was not allowed in, but could view events inside the Duomo on two large video displays set up on the piazza. As the 10:00 a.m. arrival time neared, the crowd grew larger and more anxious. A helicopter circled overhead. Security personnel, in chic Italian suits, milled around, and volunteers bridged the space between the crowd and the Pope’s planned path.
When the Pope-mobile first came into view, the crowd erupted in cheers and exclamations of wild adoration, screaming all around me: “Viva il Papa!” “Ciao, Papa!” Pope Benedict rode behind bullet-proof glass in an elevated enclosure on a custom vehicle. Security was tight around him. He was driven to the main door of the Duomo, slipped out of his car and right into the church.
From that moment, we were left with only the large video display shot from inside Milano’s Duomo, showing us the Pope’s every move. The greatest disappointment to all – and it truly nearly caused a riot – was that there was no audio with the video! You should have heard the people outside yelling! Elderly, missing perhaps their only opportunity to hear the Pope, were outraged and flashed every classic Italian gesture you’ve ever heard about. The young, all-so-accustomed to the wonders of technology, were disbelieving that they were given visuals with no sound. These rumblings went on for close to half an hour as we all watched the Pope’s silent pantomimes.
As I gaped at this carefully-ushered man of 85 years, who took very few steps unaided, whose every motion was tended to, I thought, “THIS is the man leading 6.5 billion Catholics?!” Figuring that half the population is female, THIS man is, therefore, guiding decisions that tangibly affect the lives of 3.25 billion women! What does he know about families and parenting?! What does he know about decisions women face every day that dramatically affect their own health and well-being, and that of those around them?! I was incredulous and felt all the more distant from the Church.
So, the event WAS eye-opening for me. I was closely surrounded by people that felt a fervent ardor for Pope Benedict and the Catholic Church. And yet I left feeling all the more disconnected.
My late mother, a very devout Catholic herself, once told me that “all roads lead to Tacoma”. It was her way of saying that the eclectic, spiritual soup that I am is OK with her. Perhaps we would have had a rousing discussion today after watching Benedict ride away in his Pope-mobile. And perhaps her comments would have happily surprised me; she had become quite vocal and imperative about change at the parish level in the years before she died. We may have agreed on more things than I realize.
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Just like in the “May Procession” as a little kid (always the shortest, so placed at the front of the line), and pressed against the barricade by thousands of people, all I could do was grab skewed shots of the large video displays off to the side. I haven’t bothered to straighten and fuss with them, but you’ll get the gist.
(Click on the individual photos to see a larger view of each one.)
Milano’s Duomo announced the arrival of Papa Benedetto XVI – Pope Benedict.
The crowd held people of all ages, anxious for the Pope’s arrival. The Galleria, “cathedral to consumerism”, was in the background, adjacent to the Duomo, Milano’s real cathedral.
On the video, we watched an image of ourselves filling the piazza.
Inside the Duomo, the Cathedral, priests and nuns awaited the Pope.
The entry procession began.
Like “regalia” of any culture, the Catholic Church has its “uniforms” that communicate rank and affiliation.
Celebrating the “Festa della Republica”, tricolore flags were plentiful. The security helicopter is just visible to the left of one flag.
The crowds erupted in cheers when the Pope-mobile first appeared.
Security was tight around Pope Benedict’s vehicle.
The Pope set foot into the Duomo and soon began greeting and blessing people.
The cathedral was packed with priests and nuns, and a few non-religious.
The advance-procession led ahead of the Pope.
Pope Benedict’s hand was always raised in blessing.
He did not walk down the central aisle of the church. He was pushed in a rolling cart.
Please tell me they didn’t really segregate nuns to one side of the church!
The procession of blessings continued.
The Pope’s every move was well tended to.
Milano’s Duomo is a grand, awe-inspiring enclosure.
The crowd watched as Benedict prayed… without sound.
This is the altar in the Duomo. The floor is all inlaid stone of black, red and white. Pope Benedict is seated up and to the left in the photo.
Dressed and singing.
Assisted even in his praying.
The Pope addressed the congregation in the church, silent to the thousands outside.
After a brief visit to the crypts, the Pope emerged and exited the church, thrilling the crowd.
This moment was certainly a highlight in the lives of many.
Here is a video clip of Pope Benedict XVI riding in his vehicle in front of the huge crowd.
In the “Vatican Player”, click on the TV tab, then “video news”, then “Sat, 6/2/12” to see videos of the day’s events. http://www.vatican.va/video/index.html
After sitting inside all day working, by 6:00 p.m. I had to get out and take a walk from here to my beloved Duomo. I had arrived late Tuesday evening, spent Wednesday getting settled and hadn’t yet been to my favorite landmark in town, 2 miles away from my apartment. I must always go to the Duomo, do a pilgrimage to the great cathedral.
I stretched the 4 mile loop out into just under 4 hours, shooting 200 photos along the way, catching sights that amused my eye. Come take a stroll with me and see what I see.
A Milanese fashion faux pas. I really think this woman needs a good friend to pull her aside and suggest a different outfit. Those are actually leggings printed to look like denim with funky strap markings. Very odd.
Milan has an intense cover of graffiti all over town, some of it quite artfully rendered. When is it acceptable, and to whom? When is it ugly defacing of property?
I find frequent evidence of fascination with Native American representations here in Italy.
These are the locking mechanisms operated by my funky-looking house keys.
Retro Levi’s signage.
One of Milano’s MANY bike-share stations! Swipe your debit/credit card and ride.
I specifically timed my walk to catch the early evening sun on the west-facing facade of the Duomo. (Note the red banner over the main door announcing the Pope’s visit coming up on June 3.)
The Piazza del Duomo is the “living room of the city” of Milano. This is the place to meet friends, people-watch, riot and celebrate. This piazza is the city’s heart.
The Duomo, (building commenced in the 1300s), has something like 4000 sculptures all over it, including this disemboweled man. Macabre! (And the point is?)
Yesterday was pretty chilly, so a warmer day today brought everyone outside onto the sidewalks and piazzas. The city was teeming with nightlife. Some bars had a couple hundred people outside, standing around with drinks and cigarettes.
All over Italy you’ll find freely running water fountains from which you can drink and/or fill your water bottle. (Though I never have.)
The Galleria is smack next to the Duomo: two adjacent cathedrals, one to consumerism, the other to religion and spiritual foundations (among other things, too many to discuss in a photo caption.) At the intersection of the Galleria, under the dome, is a Louis Vuitton store, Prada store and a McDonald’s!
The Galleria floor is richly embedded with mosaic. Last year I saw some men working to replace stone pieces, repairing the mosaic. I politely asked one of the men if I could have a square of black marble and he gave me one! (How many people have a piece of the Galleria floor?)
Part of the Louis Vuitton window display in the Galleria. (Milano has tremendous window displays!)
Of course I had to stop and pay Leonardo a visit. (He lived in Milano for many years and made many contributions to the city in the realm of not only art, but science, architecture, science and engineering.)
This one took me a minute… I did a double-take.
Since I often sign my letters with an “M”, I like these Metro signs scattered around town.
Not the best choice for a small meal, but at 8:00 p.m., with low-blood sugar and in the vicinity of the Duomo, I just needed food. For 5,40 Euro, I got one slice and a bottle of sparkling water. If I could have kept walking a bit, away from the tourist hub, I could have paid 8,00 Euro and had an apperitivo buffet and a glass of wine instead.
Piazza San Lorenzo Maggiore is illuminated and offering a place to sit with friends.
Here’s the same Piazza, earlier in the evening as people relaxed after work.
The street name is “Corso di Porta Ticinese”, which someone has translated with a rebus puzzle: the door is “Porta” + the letter “T”, pronounced “Ti” (tee) + plus the caricature of a Chinese man, which is “Cinese” in Italian. There’s an additional sign which I’d like to know the story behind: “The Way of Irony and Apathy”.
The Piazza XXIV Maggio is about 3 blocks from my home, at the junction of Corso di Porta Ticinese and Corso San Gottardo, where the Naviglio Grande and Naviglio Pavese (canals) meet. Year 1815.
Bike repair and sales shop late at night, at Piazza XXIV Maggio.
Fruit Map of Italy. (I’ve been to all of the places shown.)
A couple of days ago I went to Venice for the day just because I could. In a few days it’ll no longer be so simple to do.
My fourth or fifth time there, this visit was entirely different. I wasn’t on a mission, I wasn’t in a mad dash to fill the memory card of my (still-malfunctioning) camera. I wandered in a very relaxed, spontaneous, slow manner and it was nice. (Read my previous posts here.)
“Benvenuti a Venezia” – Welcome to Venice.
San Marco square, the large piazza in front of San Marco Cathedral, is the destination for every visitor stepping off the boat or train into Venice. (That and the Rialto Bridge.) All signs point to San Marco, guiding the flow of foot traffic.
And yet, upon arriving at San Marco, it is FORBIDDEN (on threat of fine) to simply sit in the piazza to enjoy the sights. This law is entirely contrary to the countrywide custom of the main plaza being the “living room” and gathering place within an Italian city. In fact, there is NO place to sit in Venice unless a visitor orders food and pays a cover charge to sit at a table. This astounds me.
As I’ve learned about Venice, there are major walking routes always filled with tourists. But step off those routes onto the side streets, and the city becomes very quiet and local.
Italy is wall-papered with supergraphic advertising, even covering classic, historic buildings. This Mario Testino ad created a blue channel through which the gondolas floated.
It would have been impossible to leave Milano without saying “goodbye” to Mary.
Our first meeting is a story in itself, finally happening last March after much anticipation. We’ve seen each other a few times since then, meeting in the little office behind the cemetery chapel.
Today I showed up in the afternoon, after the typical Italian lunch break, with red lilies in-hand for Mary. I found her at the altar, preparing everything for the next Mass. She lit up in surprise, and immediately went into the back room to split the lilies into 3 vases: 1 for either side of the altar, 1 for the Madonna.
She’s the sweetest, and implored that I NOT move away from Milano. But as I’ve told her before, I have family, friends and work back in Seattle that pull me there, so I must go. Don’t think she didn’t try to convince me to stay though!
We sat at her desk and talked for a long time. We exchanged mailing addresses and I told her that, with the computer, I can call her for free. She was thrilled.
She rummaged through the cupboards, wanting to send me home with gifts. She found a bottle of Muscat sparkling wine produced by the friars, a bracelet with pictures of 12 saints, a rose-scented rosary, a little bottle of holy water and half a dozen copies of the photo of Don Giuseppe Gervasini, Milano’s very own protector. If I carry his image with me, he will protect me from all harms, she explained.
Mary also gave me a couple dozen pages on which she has written, in her “rotondo penmanship”, the names of the dead being honored at the chapel masses.
Father Francesco came into the office a few times. I had met him in my previous visits; during the last, Mary asked him to bless me for the answer to my prayers.
When we finally said our goodbye, I said “first, an Italian kiss, then an American hug”. We kissed on both cheeks, actually several times, then I gave her a big hug goodbye.
What a dear, dear lady. Meeting her has been one of the great treasures of my time here.
Two years ago, in exploring one church after another, I noticed cathedral walls laden with silver framed medallions bearing the letters “GR”. Some were tied with a pink or a blue ribbon. There may have been 50 in some churches, or hundreds in others.
Here’s a wall in the Duomo of Sienna (from 2008).
With an interest in symbols and icons, silverwork and folk art, I was intrigued. What were these? What meaning did they hold to those that posted them?
In Firenze, I went into a store selling Catholic statues, vestments, rosaries and other religious items and talked to one of the nuns working there. She explained “Per Grazia Ricevuta” – “For Grace Received” – this physical symbol of gratitude. The medallions are placed in the cathedrals at the birth of a child, the healing of an illness or injury, or other instances of great grace. (I bought one for my brother to acknowledge him, his wife and 5 kids.)
Two years later, now back in Italy, I continue to see the Grazia Ricevuta medallion. It moves me that the Italians have this tangible symbol for their gratitude . (I rack my brain trying to think of an American corollary.)
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I feel such deep gratitude for the opportunity to be here. I have the means and the fortitude to have come for a year even in the midst of global economic crisis. I have experienced no mishap, illness or calamity. I have remained safe both when traveling alone and riding my bike amidst crazy, Milanese traffic. My family, friends and clients back home have been supportive and steady. New friendships and chance meetings here have kept me from loneliness and given me the highlights of my time. I have seen things that have filled my head with images to last my lifetime. THIS has been a great grace received and I am genuinely humbled by the gift.
– – –
The Grazia Ricevuta has become increasingly touching to me as my time passes here in Milano. I purchased another framed medallion to hang in my home when I return. And I just purchased one (below) from the antique market which I will wear on occasion. When you see it, you will know its meaning to me.
The excitement of a college-time trek through Europe! Hannah & Zibby started together on June 8, in Newcastle Under Lyme. They went on to Amsterdam and Berlin, took a wrong train into Switzerland, and arrived in Milano yesterday. They’ll go on to Venezia, Firenze, Roma, then Athens and Santorini. A time to discover themselves and the world.
There’s always the charge of newness when arriving at a train station in a new, as-yet-unvisited city.
Following their afternoon arrival, we took off on both subway and foot for a whirlwind tour of the city. We wasted no time and stopped at the Spezia Milano Pasticceria, suitcases still in hand, to buy a tray full of the best pastries in the city.
Trying a “BaBA” was a must for these girls and their yen for sweets. These little sponge-cake gems are SATURATED with rum, and filled with a sweet ricotta cheese with chocolate bits. The first bite sends a stream of rum down the arm and leaves a puddle of the alcoholic syrup in the little decorative paper cup. Tip the cup to sip every drop.
The girls freshened up after their overnight train trip, then we headed for the subway and back to the center of town: the Duomo. We studied the gargoyles, doors, and gory statues all over the church’s exterior. In addition to the pious saints and cherubs, there are pensive philosophers, ominous monsters, and poor unfortunates in all states of torture, beheading and disembowelment. We remarked on the many different artistic styles.
Of course we walked through the grandeur of the Galleria, a must-see for any visitor.
When out in front of the Palazzo Reale – the Royal Palace-turned-art-museum – we had a lesson in paving patterns, learning that, though attractive, the round, embedded pebbles were actually not very comfortable to walk on. That’s the reason for the inlay of broad flat stones.
Throughout Italy there are water fountains in the major cities that provide potable water from natural, underground sources (or so I’ve been told). Locals and tourists alike refill water bottles, or take sips on a hot day. One man knew the trick of blocking the water flow coming out the bottom of the spigot, which then diverted the flow out through a small upper hole, creating a drinking fountain arc of fresh water. Hannah just had to test the waters.
The tired travelers were getting hungry, so we descended into the subway maze, caught the red line, then transferred to the green line. We got off at Porta Genova to stroll through the Navigli – canal – district, the hip, energetic, trendy, scenic zone of antique fairs, flower markets and exhibiting painters. We had come for aperitivi, Milano’s traditional all-you-can-eat buffet for the price of one drink, usually 7-9 euro. We picked the restaurant on a floating green barge docked at the junction of the Naviglio Grande and the Naviglio Pavese. In addition to the usual carbs of pasta and pizza squares, they offer roasted peppers, eggplant and zucchini, balls of fresh mozzarella, and an amazing bruschetta of Italy’s summer-ripe tomatoes. A very nice Montepulciano and a strawberry mojito are what we selected for making our toast to being in Milano together.
The collective sweet tooth reigned and our meal would not have been complete without a further stroll along the canal and a stop to buy gelato. Hannah and Zibby learned a lesson about design and merchandising. This particular gelateria has very nice signage and interior display… and a line of people out the door waiting to get in. A gelateria 3 doors down is NOT visually impressive and the place was empty.
I was proud of Hannah for ordering her gelato IN ITALIAN! “Vorrei stracciatella.” “I would like stracciatella” (A vanilla gelato with little bits of chocolate chip throughout).
By 11 o’clock on a lovely, warm evening, we were walking along the smaller of the two canals amidst umbrellas, street musicians and candle light. We took a detour for a late night showing of some of Milano’s best graffiti, then headed home for a skype session with folks back home.
Hannah and Zibby were gracious, curious and great company during their personal tour of my Milanese haunts. They enjoyed seeing and hearing about some of the particular details of a “local”.
The visual lushness in Italy thrills me. Architectural details. Signage. The artistic sense. And the character of the people. As an artist, I am fed deeply as I explore this country. I expect that the inspiration and imagery I’ve found here will propel me for years to come.
