Ciao Roma!

One of the last phone calls I had at work before I left was with Dr. Steven Zucker, Dean of the Graduate School at FIT and professor of art history. I mentioned that I was going to Rome and he said that I must visit the Villa Borghese, that I would have buy tickets well in advance, but that it was not to be missed. I am embarrassed to say that I had not a clue as to why, but I agreed heartily with him. Well of course I will, but until I showed up this morning, I didn’t know whether it was a museum, a church, or a ruin, nor what I was going to see there.

Only advance tickets are sold, none at the door, and on Monday evening, the soonest I could get in was Thursday morning. I chose 9 – 11 am thinking that was when I could arrive, but it actually meant that I would have to arrive by 8:30 am to retrieve my ticket or I would not be admitted and that at 11 am my visit would end. Only a certain number of people are allowed in the villa at one time. They confiscate all cameras, video recorders, and bags, and they are serious. I could have used 30 more minutes, but at 10:59, I was standing on the lawn dazed and emotional.

Villa Borghese is actually an enormous park with 6 museums, a zoo, a theatre, outdoor performance spaces and the like – Rome’s Central Park, but just not central, kinda north. I visited the Galleria Borghese.

The Borghese family was very wealthy and powerful. Pope Paul V (1605 – 1621) was a Borghese and he made his nephew Scipione a cardinal. The Italian word for nephew is nepote from which the word nepotism is derived because of this appointment . To say that Cardinal Scipione Borghese was obsessed with art collecting would be understating the facts. If a painting or sculpture or other object caught his eye, he would use his power and any means possible to obtain it, and he was not above unjust imprisonment , blackmail, tyranny, or theft. He was responsible though for discovering some of the greatest painters and sculptors of his time, and with his patronage, ushering in an entirely new style of painting, the Baroque, which was a much more realistic style than that of the Renaissance painters, The villa was built to house his ever-growing collection and the Borghese family continued to add to it and to embellish the villa through the 19thcentury. What you see (but can’t photograph) is perhaps the most famous and coveted art collection in the world in the setting where much of it was originally displayed, in many of the arrangements that the Cardinal himself and his descendants oversaw.

I could go on and on. Click on the links below if you would like to see some of my favorite pieces. The one that brought tears to my eyes was actually an early 19th century sculpture by Canova of Pauline Bonaparte (sister to Napolean) and it was the cushion she is reclining on. It is carved out of gleaming white marble but the cushion looks as if it is soft, plump, and sumptuous with creases where her weight is distributed. I’ve seen so much and a futon makes me cry.

Canova: Pauline Bonaparte as Venus Vitrix
Bernini: The Rape of Proserpina
Caravaggio: David with the Head of Goliath
Raphael: The Deposition of Christ

After walking off my art buzz in the park, I got on the subway and headed down south to find another restaurant recommended by Erin, Trattoria Bucatino. It is in the Testaccio region of Rome very near what I believe to be the southern border of the city. I was very nearly in the suburbs which I could tell by the presence of children in the streets and the fact that all of the shops that I had made a mental note of checking out once I my belly was full were closed for afternoon siesta which I had read was common in most of Italy.

An indoor market was closing its stalls as I strolled through, but this one was still open. A stand devoted entirely to tomatoes! Those are pomodoro tomatoes on the right still on the vine.

But let me tell you about lunch . . . This is the Italian version of a salad bar.



All of those platters are full of different kinds of antipasti. I saw one yesterday at La Gallina Bianca, but it was not nearly as extensive as this one. There was eggplant three ways, zucchini two ways, peppers three ways, olives, two marinated seafood salads, some pink beans, cherry tomatoes in olive oil, mushrooms, dishes I can’t recall, and my favorite, marinated pearl onions

The page from which I chose my entrée had English translations –“Venetian-style lamb’s entrails,” “Roman-style tripe” (which is usually made from beef stomach),” "Rabbit cacciatore-style,” and the best, “Tail in tomato sauce” (no idea). (There were other pages with normal sounding grilled meats and pastas and whatnot). I went with the rabbit. It was superb, strong with thyme, and they seemingly gave me the whole bunny.



Dessert was what I can only describe as a deconstructed cream puff with the cream in a bowl like pudding with the puff crumbled into bits on top and sprinkled with powdered sugar. Fantastic meal.

Some notes on prices. I asked the waiter the cost of the salad bar and he explained it depended on how much I ate. On the menu, it appeared 5 – 12 euros. I ate 6 euros worth. I believe the concept of all-you-can-eat is an entirely American one. Bread is not free. It is automatically placed on your table, and if you eat it, you are charged a flat 1.5 for the basket, but if you do not touch it, you are not, and I would suppose it is recycled. Of course, what’s the equivalent of $2 for some of the best crusty bread on earth? I have found that for the quality of food, the prices here are phenomenal. Remember that Argentinian steak? 11 euros, which is less than $15. I haven’t had a meal that was over 25 euros ($35), and you have all been witness to the gusto with which I have eaten -- wine, appetizer, entrée, dessert, espresso. I guess New York City prices make everywhere else but perhaps Tokyo seem like a bargain.

This was my last day in Rome and I am thinking about all I have learned and seen. (And there was so much I didn’t see!) As I type, my window is open and below me I can hear the accordion player who comes here every evening to play for the patrons eating on the street at the ristorante on the corner. Rome -- this city and the confluence of beauty and art and invention from the Greeks, to the Romans, to the Renaissance and the Baroque. The cradle of civilization. I understand that phrase now in a way I didn’t before.

But is it a gilded cage? I haven’t seen a single tattoo shop. No one is tattooed. No one is pierced. No one has purple hair. In a city of this size, it’s so strange not to see some evidence of counter-culture. Most wear a uniform of some sort whether a dark suit or a laborer’s uniform, or a policeman’s uniform, or a cook’s uniform. Romans are so welcoming to tourists of every stripe and they speak with such pride of their city and its treasures but I wonder how much difference the culture tolerates. Where are your disaffected youths, your huddled masses yearning to self-mutilate or otherwise rebel? And international cuisine? Well with little more than no international population, one better be satisfied with good Italian food. Rome is 99.9% caucasian. There’s more diversity in Hays, KS.

I saw something heartening though. I was on the A subway line before, but today I was on the B line which have older cars and every single one looks like this:



Art and self-expression still live in Rome!