Meii Summi Viri

GUYS - I am so sorry it has been 3 weeks since I updated my blog. I actually wrote this entry before I went on my Campania excusrion from November 13-20, I just never got a chance to finish it. I have almost completed the Campagnia entry as well, and I will try to get that one up before the end of this weekend. This entry applies to my activities from November 1 - 13.

Over the past two weeks my life has revolved around 17 different men. So I have been pretty busy!

13 New ancient ones

Tiberius – the allusive mystery

Caligula – the closet sadist

Claudius – the fierce cripple

Nero – the psychotic pyromaniac

Galba, Otho, and Vitellius – the three failures

Vespasian – the self made man

Titus – the short-lived victor

Domitian – the megalomaniac

Nerva – the sweet grandpa

Trajan – the best I ever had

Antonius Pius – the goodie too shoes

Hadrian – the man with a temper

Marcus Aurelius – the superstitious basket case

Two new 16^th Century Artists

Guiseppe Cesari d’Arpino

Peter Paul Rubens

And one living and walking in the year 2010

Jeffrey V.D.R – the dutchman

Clearly this is why I haven’t been able to update my blog… :)

But really, I have woken up every single day this week except last Saturday and Sunday at 7:30 am and explored Rome deep down to its core daily until the sun went down. True story – despite my claustrophobic nervosa, last Tuesday at 5:30 PM when it was dark outside, I Isabel Irene Zinman climbed down a treacherous ladder behind a small hidden door under the Via Cavour to see an ancient nymphaeum of a villa.  

I have romped around in the three sets of imperial fora remains along Mussolini’s via dell’imperiale that are off limits to tourists, climbed all the way from underneath the arena of the Colosseum where the Romans used to house their gladiators and wild animals to its top most story where women and slaves would sit, spent time hanging out with hermaphrodites and boxers in the palazzo Massimo (i.e. statues in a museum hehe), and experienced Ostia and the oldest Jewish temple in the entire western world. Oh, and I sat in lecture for 6 hours, went on two more Art History marathons, gave a 20 minute site report on the fresco work in Lateran church to my intimate art history class, and completed my second Greek take home test that demanded ownership of several texts (without any helpful commentaries) that were completely out of my ability range! Also I just topped off another 20-minute presentation that I will be giving in Pompeii to my ancient cities class. I am already expecting to be eaten alive by my question firing classmates and professori upon its completion. I swear these presentations are meant to toughen you up in preparation for dissertation work in grad school.

Current Status: I am sitting in my room writing this blog entry, after listening to Nerva sing Part of Your World (from the little mermaid) at dinner. Calamari, lentil soup, vino bianco, and a bomba della pistaccio for desert. Heavenly! Have I packed anything for Campania? No.

I have learned so many things in the last two weeks I can’t choose which to mention. I am not going to take the same approach as I took after Sicily (a 10 point list). Well I could go into juicy information about each of the men I mentioned people magazine style and seriously freak you out. But I wouldn’t want to talk badly about any of them, especially the emperors, as tempting as it may be. I’m still in Rome and one of their spirits could come back and haunt me or cast an evil eye.

First I am going to focus on what I thought was the coolest and most interesting part of the ancient course so far. I am again lucky enough to have been reading the raw primary sources about this topic under the guidance of Serfass (even though doing the assigned homework translations sucked out my soul because they were so difficult).

Lets start with Nero, the psychotic pyromaniac mentioned in my first list. Nero, (Ahenobarbus – this was his cognomen and how he was known before people called him Nero) basically came to power only because his mom, Agrippina the Younger poisoned her husband Claudius who was emperor at the time. Claudius had willed the empire to Nero, whom he had adopted. So Claudius was screwed and manipulated. Upon his assumption of imperial power after Claudius' death, Nero fired and killed many administrators. He really didn’t make everyone hate him until after a massive fire demolished downtown Rome during his reign in 64 AD. Nero used the fire’s work as an opportunity to build a “neropolis” or small city dedicated to himself to replace important public buildings that had burnt down. And he erected a gigantic golden statue of himself in the middle. This complex also included his Domus Aurea – the legendary beautifully decorated structure that contains glorious wall paintings and unique grotesche patterns that Renaissance painters later emulated. Unfortunately, we couldn’t go in this complex as there are problems with the ceiling falling in. Least to say the neropolis upset Romans from all social classes, and Nero committed suicide because everyone hated him

There were huge issues after Nero’s death. Four different provincial governors vied for the throne and their armies fought against each other. Romans were fighting Romans again. In the end, Vespasian, the governor of Judea won out. But he still had a slew of other problems in Judea to deal with. Vespasian sent his son Titus to go take care of business, which Titus did but with much casualty. In Greek class, I have been reading first hand accounts of the Jewish Revolts Titus had to deal with in Judea written by a man named Josephus who was once a general in the revolting army. He was captured, but the emperor Vespasian freed him from being a POW on account of his prophetic abilities. Josephus’ accounts are intensely detailed and depressing … from the burning of the Temple to the blood dripping down its stairs and piles of bodies, and then back to the triumph through Rome. Josephus tries to put into Greek words what a menorah is (the Roman army paraded a menorah through the city). He describes it as being like the trident that the god of Poseidon carried (for lack of better words). I bet you all didn’t know that the spoils from the Jewish War in fact funded the building of Rome’s most popular and famous spectacle… the Colosseum. The Colosseum was a testament to Vespasian and his son’s victories in Judea, the ascendency of their family to the position of emperor (they were self-made men and unrelated to Caesar’s family), and the returning of Rome to the common people by trumping of Neropolis (the Colosseum sits on top of the area that Nero sectioned out as a lake feature).

Fast forward 1500 years, and you arrive at the second half of what has taken up my past two Thursday afternoons and Friday mornings: Art in the Counter Reformation with Paul Tegs. My intimate class has fallen in love with Paul. Not only is he an incredibly well dressed PENN grad, but he comes to Rome from outside the city to teach us each week. He truly is an incredible art historian, his lecturing abilities are phenomenal, and his energy constantly at an all time high. The man can go non-stop for 4 hours straight. He even makes some of the "impossible elegant and contorted" Renaissance controposto poses he describes while he lectures. I have been blessed to have him as a teacher.

Now for the two Renaissance men:

1) Guiseppe Cesari d’Arpino was in charge of a workshop that painted this fantastic fresco cycle at the Lateran church (which about a mile north of the Colosseum). I was lucky enough to be assigned to give an oral presentation on this masterpiece. I am not particularly good at public speaking – actually I kind of suck at it – so last week I basically sat in my room in the Centro and rehearsed to myself all week long. The girls who live next door are probably about to murder me, because this week I have been doing the same thing with my ancient city site report.

Anyways the Lateran is the first church in Rome that the late emperor Constantine founded. My fresco cycle depicted in 8 panels how Constantine decided against taking a bath in the blood of 3000 Christian children as he was advised by Pagan priests to cure his case of Leprocy, converted to Christianity and was baptized, and then built the Lateran Church. There are 8 frescoes in total and they span the entire perimeter of a gigantic transept of the church. Pilgrims coming through the church in the Jubilee year 1600, would have seen the art, and been moved to imitate the pious converted emperor. This is the way much of counter-reformation art worked. It was, in a sense, a visual guide and reassurance to people who felt skeptical about Catholicism because of the ongoing Protestant reformation. Out of the 8 panels, the 6^th particularly struck me. It pictures a young noble woman in a gorgeous gown helping an elderly couple within the lateran church. It’s the idea of “amor proximi” love of they neighbor, despite class divisions. 

  

2) Peter Paul Rubens

A shout out to my girl Alex Nerva Olsman for her fantastic presentation on a spectacular tri panel altarpiece by this Dutchman. I had no idea that he made his mark in Rome, but at the end of Art History Marathon I found myself looking at one of his masterpieces in the Chiesa Nuova in the heart of Rome. Rubens wanted to let the Italian masters know that he was just as good as them, and took the commission to paint this even though it was for cheap. He was doing it for a group of Jesuits who didn’t have secure funding to pay one of the Italian masters. Rubens is a very Raphael like figure – he is not the tortured soul Michelangelo (who in fact didn’t have anything nice to say about the painterly Dutch artists) but a pleasant man who loved commissions and patrons. Painterly in this sense means the Dutch artists used oil to render greater detail –to the extent that the works are so detailed you can even see the red marks in their figures’ eyes – as opposed to tempura (a faster drying media) that Michelangelo used to render his famous perfectly proportional sculpture bods in paint. The subject matter of Raphael’s altarpiece wasn’t particularly stimulating – just the church and order’s favorite saints – but the figures are stunning. On the right Rubens paints Saint Domitilla in a gorgeous white gown. You can see nearly every detail of the fabric and where it folds, and the ringlets of her golden blond hair. Domitilla is the emperor Domitian’s supposed daughter who refused to give up Christianity, even though she went against her own father’s demands and laws. The other thing that gets me is that this wasn’t Ruben’s first painting on the altar, in fact he had to redo the entire thing when he realized that his initial painting did not work with the Church’s lighting and audiences wouldn’t be able to see it. He convinced the Jesuits he could do it right, and painted the new piece on slate on top of the walls, and broke it up into three pieces. A nice save. By this work he won over the Roman art conouissers and proved himself. He didn’t feel it necessary to stick around though, and stayed in the Netherlands/France continuing to paint for the remainder of his career.

And finally what you guys have all been secretly been waiting for – the tid bit on my life outside of academia. So. Flashback for a second to 2 blog entries before this: the one I wrote from Amsterdam. After I finished that blog and Erica awoke from up from her nap, we went for Mexican food and then to our favorite bar near our hotel to do some vino bianco pre-seasoning before we were going out to try to go to a bigger venue. We found ourselves hanging out with a larger group of dutch guys who we learned were all on a soccer team together, and they invited us to accompany them to an area called Rembrandtplien (one of the 4 words in my slowly growing Dutch vocabulary). We took the rollercoaster (literally, it was so windy I lost my balance and wacked and bruised my knee) tram and found ourselves in a hole in the wall local place – kind of like the Dunbars of Amsterdam, Cornell readers. We were treated to death stares from the local women. It felt like they were pushing Erica and I out with the force of their eyes. But luckily three of our new friends didn’t want to stay there, so we followed after them and went elsewhere where there was American music and a younger crowd. Jeff, Bob (who had a cast – his friends told us he had gotten into a fight and lost, but it was really because he hurt it in a soccer game) and the ginger (this is not his name I just forget — he had red hair.)  We didn’t stay out too late but Jeff and I hit it off and talked for a while, his English is fantastic, and we stayed in contact after the night. Last weekend he came and visited me in Rome. For the first time I had a chance to share what I have learned about Rome with someone. He put up with me when I got lost and had to use a map (by the way its been 2 whole months without my iphone GPS everyone). I also took him to my favorite restaurant in Trastevere, da il due cittchione! It’s a shame because Guiseppe the restaurant manager was so wasted he couldn’t be funny that night, but nonetheless the food was good as always. The weekend before finals I am going to visit him in the Hague!

That is all for now readers. Stay tuned to hear the results from the battle against Campania!

Brutus was like just as cute as Caesar.

I am happier to be back at the Centro then I anticipated (even though we have been slammed with work). I feel renewed after a lovely fall break… I was slightly traumatized by the intensity of the Sicily trip and was apprehensive about returning to the Centro. Initially I was upset at the ridiculousness of having to read 40 pages in our dense History text books on the Sunday night that I returned from Amsterdam (we weren’t given the assignment before break), and having to recall for a photo Id quiz the next morning everything we saw in Sicily or studied in class the week before our trip.  But, putting in the extra work and staying up until two in the morning studying was kind of necessary for me to get back into the swing of things at the Centro. We definitely do not have time to relax, the second half of the program has gone off with a bang just like the first. I even kind of feel at home, waking up for breakfast to the bell at 8 am, having my usual Centro breakfast of yogurt and coffee (its still as vile as ever), and then climbing up to the fourth floor for Monday’s 2.5-3 hour lecture.

We have finally begun our study of the Roman Empire! This week we focused on Julius Caesar and his adopted nephew/heir Octavian (later known as Augustus, me!). After surviving the photo quiz, amazingly I didn’t find myself tired, but rather very into the Head Professor Scott’s lecture on these two Roman celebrities and the other men contending for power at the time with whom they butted heads. Scott did a great job of laying out the historical background, and then Professor Chris gave us a nice taste of the artistic culture at the time, especially as it pertains to the men (most was done by their patronage). We spent time looking at busts. I particularly enjoyed putting names to faces. It helped consolidate my understanding of each persona, and I will use these images to supplement my brief interpretations of the men. Here is the catch - I’m going to do this in the style of my favorite column in Cosmopolitan magazine –

Sexy VS Skanky.

Sexy: Julius Caesar

Caesar was both a great general (he conquered all of Gaul) and smart politician. He had the fervent love of the entire Roman population, a Latin term called “auctoritas,” which is difficult to put into English words. It basically means clout. However, Caesar kind of sucked at communicating with the Senate (the old ruling party) and never asked for their permission. So they conspired against him and brutally murdered him. Despite his untimely death, Caesar’s boldness – in the sense that he rejected the traditional authority – and clout are kind of sexy.

 Skanky: Marcus Antonius (Antony)

Marcus Antonius, Caesar’s co-consul at that the time of his death, had a good shot at becoming ruler after the assassination. Antony initially worked with Octavian (Caesar’s nephew who was named as heir in Caesar’s will) to get rid of the Caesarian conspirators. But after Antony and Octavian did this successfully, the two were at odds with each other. Each wanted to rule the state alone. As a solution, they split up the empire into two equal parts and Antony went off to the eastern provinces to “deal with the Parthians.” Instead, he drank like a fish and screwed around with, and fought wars (he was whipped!) for, the Egyptian queen Cleopatra. Antony made the huge tactical error of cheating on his wife Fulvia, Octavian’s aunt! Octavian read Antony’s will to the Senate, thus proving that Antony wanted to rename Alexandria, Egypt as the new capital of Rome! This did not sit well with the public and gained Octavian, who had been assigned control of Italy and the West, major brownie points. Mark Antony, you are skanky.

 Sexy: Octavian

Octavian was Caesar’s named heir, and despite being very young (he was only 19) and less experienced, the way in which he consolidated his allies throughout Italy while Antony frolicked in the eastern provinces reveals his aptitude for diplomacy and desire to rebuild the Roman Empire out of the ashes of civil war. At the end of the day, everything worked out well, Octavian defeated Antony and Cleopatra and became the princeps, or the first citizen by 27 BC. He was voted by both the SPQR (the Senate, and the Roman People!) to receive a number of duties that had previously belonged to high magistrates, such as the power of the tribunes and the right to declare war (a power called imperium, hence the name imperator). In this way he learned from his uncle’s mistakes, and set a precedent of peace and stability with the result that the population voted these rights for each of Octavian’s successors, and the position of emperor officially evolved. 

Back in Roma

 This week for field trips we stayed in Rome – revisiting the Forum and walking through the “remaining remains” of the other forums (of Imperial Rome), which unfortunately Mussolini leveled when he constructed the Via Imperiali running through them up to the Colosseum. For example, Mussolini aligned the “important” end part of the Forum of Augustus, containing the Temple of Mars Ultor, with the road. For a long time, people thought there were two “exhedrae” or gigantic semi circular niches at its side giving it a phallic connotation, but more recently there is a realization that there were really two exhedrae perside. The forum of Augustus was perpendicular to the Forum of Caesar, which intersected at the Curia Julia, or the new Senate House that Caesar built. A walk through these was intended to be a memory theater, a message of Roman dominance, a representation of the state’s wealth. Statutes of the summi viri – the highest men – were lined up through the forum of Augustus for people to view, and at one time all of the fora (plural for fourm) were decked out in colored marbles – pinks, yellows, purples, greens and reds, that hail from the countries the Romans conquered! You kind of have to use your imagination here – but after doing my pre-visit site readings I had a pretty good idea of what to envision and boy the fora would have been decadent.

The Italian word permesso – or permission – became a new part of my vocabulary this week. We pretty much crossed over every single rope and fence to enjoy a close look at the monuments because, as the Intercollegiate Study for Classical Center, we have the auctoritas to do stuff like that. I had amazing close-up views of the detailed features of each monument we studied. The highlight of the day – climbing up the hill and checking out the remaining fresco’s in Augustus’ home on the Palatine hill. The low point – doing a face plant as I stepped off the 75 bus in front of the Colosseum, 100 (literally 100) Italians and half of the centristi. We were already late due to a traffic jam, so this really messed up my sprint to catch the professors as I had two rolled ankles and a scraped knee.  Another low point this week – Greek class. The author we translated, Cassius Dio, was freaking hard and made little sense until I read an English translation.  I think everyone was in the same boat, but unfortunately I was called on in Serfass’ “nonoptional” volunteering scheme last.  As last, I was left to deal with the hardest sentence in the entire passage. Luckily he helped me and nicely reassured me that he even had trouble with it. He hinted that Dio isn’t a great writer, and that we are only reading him to see what kind of thoughts were circulating about the new position of Imperator. This was insightful, but the experience was still painful. A third low point – I accidentally skipped over a whole week’s homework and did the wrong assignment, only to have to gun it for three hours before class to finish the right one.

I am looking forward to reading more Josephus, who wrote the Jewish War and Jewish Antiquities. We are reading his pieces about the revolt in Jerusalem and how the generals (who would become future emperors) Titus and Vespasian react to them. Vespasian, who thought Josephus was a prophet, captured Josephus in Galilee and brought him back to Rome, where Josephus became a part of Roman society and commenced to write in Greek and Aramaic his histories.

A special permesso came in hand again on Friday when I embarked on an all day Art History field trip to the Palace of the Cardinal Alessandro Farnese just north of Rome in a town called Caprarola. We spent the morning visiting each room of the palace (via the permesso), examining the Roman imperial style mythological frescoes on the ceilings of the upper class apartments and thereby determining the functions of the rooms, and hanging out in the ornate garden. Cool things I found intriguing.

1) Our teacher Paul showed us how the building’s architect, Vignola, cleverly incorporated secret service stairways and massive utilitarian rooms (kitchens, stables etc) among the grandiose chambers for the servants to run the place. The architect focused not only on ornate things such as with spiral staircases lined with intensely carved colonnades, but also the simple things that would make the palace run!

2) When we studied the differences in the wall frescoes between the two apartments occupying the different sides of the palace. There were two sets of symmetric rooms – one set used in summer and the other in winter due to the way the sun heated them (very genius way of keeping guests comfortable). The winter apartments, painted during the counter-reformation, contained frescoes with entirely Christian subjects that had the agenda of proving the church’s power to occupants. The walls of the public meeting room on this side were filled with equally sized, amazingly detailed maps of every major continent. These were a testament to the church’s duty to spread its message all over the world, and a display of the beauty of God’s creation. The summer apartments were frescoed in the mannerist time period before the counterreformation – and thus were in the neoclassical imperial style (scenes of very particular myths) that were intentioned for wealthy erudite guests to struggle to depict.

3) The fountain filled hill. I can’t even begin to describe the intricacy of this hill. Fountains, fountains and more fountains dotted the hillside from the top to bottom. One was even in the style of a giant long stone serpent, and water flowed through its curves. The cardinal and his guests would have feasts in this ‘natural’ (it was really man-manipulated) wonderland, which was full of devices that would shoot surprise beams of water from the most random places! This would make guests scream, and contribute to the delight of the afternoon. There were scattered grottoes, which the cardinal lined with perfectly evenly grafted stalagmites from local caves. In these he placed more fountains, mythological surprise squirting devises, and ancient or anciently influenced statues. I could definitely be a member of the papal retinue and hangout here on weekend afternoons. It was an especially unique experience because Paul arranged for our escort (because of the permesso) to turn on some water spouting devices for us to see. So cool!

And now it’s the beginning of another regular week of city centered field trips. I am sorry for the lack of exciting non-academic stories – I have been spending many late nights studying and pulling together oral reports in the library for my Art History and Ancient City classes. It is going to be a lot of work until we leave for the week-long excursion to Campagnia in two Saturdays.

Fall Break Photos

window at Harrods

West Minster

Metope of the Parthenon!

Elgan Marbles

Alex and Sierra

Erica and I at Birmingham!

London and Amsterdam

Waking up under a warm duvet cover on my own accord (not because of an alarm) in pure darkness actually happened on the morning of Sunday October 17th … It was finally not just a daydream. I checked my iphone time – 9:45 AM – and opened the curtains to the bustling Euston Street in the northern half of the city London. Forty-five minutes later I saw a familiar face walk into the lobby of my hotel and was thrilled – Erica, my close friend from Cornell!! She came to spend the day with me in London from the U of Birmingham (just an hour and a half train ride North), where she is abroad interning and taking classes.

My first starbucks coffee since September 4th – that grande pike blend with soymilk, was like a healing elixir to the ulcers I am developing from the strong Italian espresso. Erica and I ventured out to the nearby King’s Cross Station and took the tube (I was a newbie to this), which landed right below the legendary Harrods – Heaven. Sorry, I have to succumb to my inner fashionista for a sentence, to give you a visual of my chosen outer apparel. Margaret’s old Burberry trench, a pseudo-denim Louis Vuitton scarf (thank you Cookie), and Via Spiga riding boots - Vogue would probably have even given me two thumbs up. We walked through the labyrinth-like gourmet food booths and treat isles on the first floor and made our way up to the designers. Delightful. Made me feel like I was on a typical marathon Newbury/Saks day out in Boston with the two loves of my life – my mom and Clara – with a sushi lunch snuck in between. Erica and I walked the area around Harrods called Knightsbridge, then headed to view Buckingham Palace and the Parliament houses where we took Blair and Serena style photos on the fountain in front of the palace. After frolicking around London all day, we devoured some take out (drumrollllll here it is ahhh) sushi and wine, and then I proceeded to watch crappy TV for the night and fell asleep early. This was my first day doing something non-academic and leisurely since the beach at Santa Mirinella back in the second week of September. As my dad likes to say, this day was a recharging of the battery.

The next morning I met Alex and Sierra (her close friend who is abroad in London) after another Starbucks healing session at the British Museum, where we scrutinized the Elgin marbles for some time and walked through the collection. Alex and I not only impressed Sierra with our knowledge about everything – but also ourselves. The collection featured Etruscan tombs, terracottas, red figure pots from Southern Italy, temple metopes, mosaics and more – and I knew so much about them. It felt great. We had a lovely lunch at le pain quotidien – a chain that has arrived in NYC recently, and I had a goat cheese salad with roasted veggies and Alex and I split an order of hummus. That evening at 5 PM I boarded the train bound for Birmingham to spend the night and next day with Erica to experience life like a British college student (thanks dad for helping me out when I forgot the sheet with her address on it). She made dinner for me and it was a special treat – warm baguette, smoked salmon, cream cheese, and cucumbers. How English. She arranged a party at her flat for me so I could meet her new friends – they were great and so entertaining – and especially to my treat some others abroad at U Birmingham from Cornell showed up as well. It was a great mini-trip, we went to a club that night and then had a nice breakfast/ talk session before I headed back on the train to London. Later in the week I would be meeting her in another country for a weekend excursion, so it wasn’t a final goodbye.

For the next two days I spent some time on my own and with Alex exploring London. We hit the National Gallery, and then on our last morning in town, Westminster Abbey. The National Gallery certainly lived up to its reputation. The curatorial work/organization is genius (although I was slightly irked that they displayed da Vinci works in a room with the Milenese artists and not Florentines – small details), and the museum was incredibly comfortable especially compared to some of the bootleg archaeological museums in random places in Italy. Sigh… one day I would like to work in a place like the National Gallery … pieces and artifacts, the fruits of their masters, deserve such treatment. Westminster Abbey was really interesting as well. This is no ordinary church. It definitely has the prerequisites for what makes a church cool – innovative baroque architecture, a menacing façade, an ornate high altar painting, large side isles with chapels and several successive rooms marked off by barrel vaults basilica style in the central knave. Within this building there are also hundreds of memorials to figures from British culture from many historical time periods. The abbey features niches that contain gigantic tombs of the early 14th century kings, ornate sarcophagi for each member of the Tudor Family including Elizabeth I, a poet’s corner with tombs and plaques for the masters (Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, Shelley and Keats, etc.), statues for Isaac Newton and Charles Darwin, and a chapel and several monuments for the British soldiers of wars from all of the centuries (culminating with World War II). Coming here was yet another indication of how much I have learned at ICCS – I could see how nearly every structure within Westminster has a Roman origination and name it precisely.

- the long effigies on tombs explaining the life of the deceased – these were also featured on and read during Roman funeral processions
- the fact that the effegies were in Latin (this could be due to Christianity as well because it embraced the Latin Language)
- ornate sarcophagi with highly detailed reliefs and figures on top in some cases
- the cloister outdoors where the monks would hang around – an atrium/peristyle possibly
- the basilica floor plan

We had a brief fiasco getting to the Gatwick Airport – the driver we hired to take us did not show up on time, so we had to boot it to the express train (it would have been around the same price since there were three of us) but we got there with plenty of time and as our pilot said, “took a quick trip over the north sea.” This fleuct (flight) was rather bumpy but not too bad, and we made it to the low country and I easily found Erica in the airport. Erica and I took our time storing my bag and figuring out the train situation for getting into the city. It ended up being very simple, we took an express train to the central station and then caught a tram line to our hotel. I was rather disoriented because the Dutch language is so far from anything I have ever heard or studied. It took us some time to find the hostel, but we eventually did. We made the gorgeous guy at the desk, who I learned is named Lloyd, show us our room before we paid. I have never stayed in a hostel before, and this was the first time I picked out a hotel/hostel in a foreign country, so I was a bit nervous that I had failed. I had looked online a few weeks before and tried to figure out Amsterdam and the best region to stay in, and this hostel fell in the perfect location – near all the Museums, a safer area of nightlife in the city, and some nice stores. Thankfully, it ended up working out well – we had a two bedroom private room with two lockable lockers, a strong outside lock, at a quiet location in the building, and our own bathroom. Not to mention the beds were nice. Some of the folks staying there were slightly sketchy and not our scene (they hung out together in a communal room downstairs, weird) – I guess there’s a large traveling culture and hostels are a way to meet other people from places across the globe –
but there were a lot of regular people at the hotel too, even kids and families.

Erica did a great job of keeping me on my toes this trip – she knew how to be safe (Amsterdam and most major cities are places where you have to be on your guard). She taught me many tricks. When we were trying to figure out where to go after getting off the tram at 10:30 PM, she pulled me into a Burger King and told me to be careful about talking out loud outdoors about where we were going, reading a map in public, or asking anyone questions because we could be followed (there were a lot of foreign men out on the move near where we were). The road to our hotel was slightly long and the tram didn’t go on our road, so we got a little concerned about location, but in the end decided it would be an ok place to stay. When we were out and two men offered to buy us drinks, Erica also made me realize that it was 100% necessary to watch the entire process like a hawk (the making of the drink, the paying, and the handing over) to make sure nothing was getting slipped in. She has been a wonderful person to travel with, and it feels so nice to share this experience with someone who I know well.

We had fun the first night as we checked out the nearby nightlife and hung out with some locals. The next morning we went to the Van Gogh Museum which was wonderful – it took me some time to recall what I had learned in Professor Bernstock’s Intro to Modern class freshman year – but then it came back to me. Also to my treat the museum contained a couple Monet’s and Rembrandt’s. We ate a falafel lunch at a place where the woman was cutting the vegetables for her salad bar, frying the falafel, and refilling the condiment bottles of tahini spicy (DEADLY) green pepper in front of us. She let me have seconds on vegetables because she saw me spoil my first scoop with the poisonous topping. Afterwards we did the Heineken Experience (this didn’t make me like beer), which was neat, and then relaxed and went out at night again. After a big pancake brunch (mine was banana with cinnamon ice cream and strawberry sauce), we went to the Anne Frank House. I can’t believe that eight people lived there for three years and barely went outdoors or saw sunlight. The memorial is nice, not too eclectic, but obviously a sobering experience. My third grade autobiography project was on Anne (I read an abridged version of her diary). Her story is how I first learned about the Holocaust. I remember thinking to myself when I was a little girl that one day I wanted to go see where she hid from the Nazis. I also remember my mom telling me she did when on business in Amsterdam when I was in middle school. So there it is – I accomplished one of my hundreds of long-term aspirations.

Tomorrow I am returning to Roma for the next three weeks. It is going to be a lot of work. Before we go on our next week-long Fabio bus excursion I have two oral presentations to prepare (I am already half way done with one), an art history midterm (already made my study guide), and another Greek take home. BUT I am so excited to start learning about the empire!! Goodbyeee Republic, its been a great time. The first week back is dedicated to me and only me – Emperor Augustus. So stay tuned for more, and I promise I will continue to wow you with my studies and adventures in the second half of my time overseas in the Italian lands.

Love and Kisses
Isabella.

Sicily VS Isabel

Now that I have finally caught up on sleep and the 40,000 emails I could not answer for an entire week, and done some reflection, I am ready to blog.

On Friday October 16, bright early per usual, we departed from the centro, this time however carrying massive suitcases and backpacks that we would be living out of for the next 9 days. I have put in a map of Sicily below just so you can see the extent of the excursion.  We traveled south of Naples on Day 1, worked our way back to Naples by the end of day 2 to take an overnight ferry to Palermo, and then on arriving in Sicily made a circle of the entire island heading east first.

Day 1 (Friday) – Velia (An Archaeological Site south of the Amalfi Coast)

Day 2 – Paestum (Also south of the Amalfi Coast), overnight ferry from Naples

Day 3 – Cefalu, Taoromina

Day 4 – Syracuse

Day 5 – Piazza Armerina and Morgantina (violent food poisoning)

Day 6 – Agrigento and Selinunte

Day 7 – Motia, Segestum

Day 8 – Monreale, Palermo, overnight ferry from Naples

Day 9 (Saturday) - home

So now you are probably thinking what the heck were we doing in Sicily, and you probably haven’t heard of a single one of the places I just listed besides Palermo the home of il Padrino. Let me give you an abridged version – basically, Sicily and Southern Italy (aka Magna Graeca) were hotspots for Greek and Phoenician colonization in the 7^th/6^th BC because of their strategic location from an economic point of view. Each colony on Sicily is in a well thought out location, often near a good freshwater source and with visible natural defenses). Often times Sicilian Colonies (poleis) were third generation of their mother country (people from a colony would start their own colony). The Phoenicians were the near eastern people from modern day Syria, the colony you probably know them best for is Carthage. The colonies had their own disputes and wars, for example Selinus VS Segestum.  Often times the disputes weren’t based on whether they were Carthaginian or Greek, they related back to the intricate alliance system of the Greek city-states themselves. By the time the Romans stepped onto the scene, there was a show down of Rome VS Phoenicia (via Carthage). This struggle was an atrocity – 3 wars, each lasting for over 10 years (The Punic Wars). Sicily, especially in the first Punic War, was the main theatre of operations and stage for the battles of both sides. Eventually all of Sicily’s city-states came under Roman power and the island became the first technical Roman province by the mid second century BC (not entirely provincial – some of the city-states retained independence so long as they stayed faithful to Rome during the War). After the Romans, the Visigoths arrived, then the Byzantines, then the Arabs, and then the Normands. Each conqueror built its own style buildings and, so basically to the modern day viewer, visually Sicily is a cultural cluster-f__k (pardon my crude language, that term just is so perfect).

We spent our week in Sicily hanging out at the ancient acropoli (the political/social/religious centers of the ancient colonies that have similar features) and temples, which are incredibly well preserved.  The sites were peaceful for exploring due to the lack of tourism and it being off-season (opposite of the Vatican on any given day in the month of July).

The sites we visited thus had features of Greek and Carthaginian (the material culture still mixed due to trade between one another) city-states, and Roman elements like those we have been studying all semester. The fact that I could easily recognize the Romanization within each archaeological site and spit out very specific architectural jargon makes me realize just how much I am learning at ICCS. For example at first glance I could say something like “that temple is a hexistyle peripteral doric temple sine postico with two columns in antis, a tri-part cella, an adyteron and an optholomos.” Don’t even try to understand any of this, I am just trying to impress you.

I could go on and on about the individual histories of each town/site that we visited, but instead I have chosen a few highlights of the overall trip both academic and not, and organized them in a 10 part list.

Number 1: Roommate control and my special eggplant cestini

Basically the second day of the trip was Cait-y’s 21 bday, so we celebrated the night before our departure from Rome. She was sick on the bus the next morning, so I assumed it had to do with her celebration. Scott had specifically warned us that he has a sixth sense for hangovers, so we hid Cait-y under cars at the first rest stop so she could get it out of her system. It wasn’t until the afternoon that we realized she had motion sickness and not a hangover.

Hail my favorite chef at the centro, Maria! I took so much eggplant to my face at dinner the night before our departure from Rome that Maria added eggplant leftovers to my bagged lunch. She finally figured me out… I never respond to her cries “ancora pasta???!!!!” (more pasta) when she comes into the dining room after our primo piatto with an extra dish. For this girl its ancora verdura (vegetables)!! It was phenomenal!

Number 2: Our first Franco surprise.

So the director of the program Franco joined us on the trip as master of ceremonies via the microphone on the Fabio Bus. Brief digression, “Fabio Bus” is what Franco called the bus. Fabio was also our bus driver, and by the way, is quite the versatile driver. He handled the winding narrow roads of the mountains by Tauromina and Piazza Armerina and the busy and fast paced city roads in Palermo. Fabio just hates vomit (to his great displeasure there were several incidents of motion sickness on the bus) and is a clean freak (this was actually good because the bus was impeccable all week). Anyways Franco would greet us every morning on the microphone and each time we arrived at a destination with, a, “Ciao ragazzi, put on your good walk shoes, later today we have a Franco surprise, eeeesomething very special.” This first surprise came at the end of day one after we autopsied the site of Velia all afternoon in the beating sun. Thankfully, our hotel was on the beach and we were treated to a Mediterranean swim! The beach was lovely – nice, calm waves – and it was sunset so the skyline was a combo of warm colors and pinks. Not to mention the house wine at dinner that night was only 5 euro a bottle and sweet, just the way I like it.

Nerva is alittle too excited for the Franco suprise. Walking to the Beach!

Number 3: Lunch at the swanky Nettuno restaurant in Paestum for Franco’s birthday with the extended fam. Baby Clam Pasta and cake soaking in rum. No need for further description.

Rosanna and I in front of one of the temples at Paestum!

Number 4: Ferries are as bad as Margaret claims.

My mom always told me tales of her overnight ferry rides from Newfoundland when she went to boarding school and college in Nova Scotia – the boat rides were miserable, smelly and teaming with nasty truckers. Those three words basically sum up my experience on the Tirrhenia, except the truckers spoke Italian instead of newfie. Unfortunately, Franco didn’t advise us to plan ahead and buy food for the journey, so we ate in the dining buffet area with the Italian truckers. Liz, Alex and I sat down at a table in a relatively open area and within 15 minutes we were surrounded on all sides by tables of them. They were making cat calls and being audibly obnoxious.  I lost my appetite and just wanted to get out of there. Alex – I swear to god she is the next carry bradshaw – couldn’t have put this feeling of disgust into better words, “the Sicilian men undress you with your eyes and then proceed to make you feel as if you just optically contracted an STD.” YUK! Add to that, the food was horrible. I am sure that I consumed the toxic bacteria that took over my bowel for the rest of the trip on the ferry (no further comment … I did handle it very well though I must say, there was only one emergency incident when during a museum lecture I had to sprint to the bathroom). On the ferry, and I shared a small room with bunk beds and a bathroom that stunk like a porta potty, and it was about 50 degrees Fahrenheit in the room. The ferry arrived at 6:15 AM in the morning, so that was not so pleasant, and our day began about two hours after we reached our first stop, Cefalu (its name comes from the Greek word for head – Cefalos – for the land sticks out). Cefalu was cool – we visited its Normand/Byzantine Cathedral, which contains the largest figural mosaic of Christ (it is located on the altar piece of the church’s central apse) that dates to the mid-twelfth century.

Number 5: Theater Ecstasy

Standing in the pouring rain and waking up at 6:15 in the morning is not my idea of a good time, so the first day in Sicily was a challenge. By the time we reached the last site of the day in Taoromina (between Cefalu and Syracuse), it was taking every fiber of my being to hold it together to enjoy the tour. This was compounded by my lifeline to the rest of the world, and key to enduring long bus rides -- my iphone -- having died, and the prospect of a three-hour bus ride from Taoromina to the hotel in Syracuse looming ahead after the site visit. Despite all of these obstacles, I enjoyed my time at this location. My close friend on the program Emma presented her site report on the theater, and talked a lot about how the Romans changed and expanded the Greek originals (Emma gets her own space on this list later). Basically the Greeks would construct their theaters into nature, and the Romans would build upon them and reduce the orchestra (area between the audience and the actors for the chorus) and build up the background. Theaters were seen as a place cut off from the rest of the world where the unthinkable could occur, and the audience could undergo a sort of ecstasy by watching the performers. I believe this is more of a Roman conception, for the Greeks would create theaters within nature and use manipulative architecture so viewers could look out and be wowed by nature while also enjoying a show. We encountered theaters at nearly every single location we visited, each unique and flat out marvelous in its placement and manipulation of the surroundings. Taoromina was the largest. It is too bad it was raining and yucky weather because Taoromina is stunning. It overlooks the Mediterranean sea, from a town that is Amalfi-like in how it sits on a high cliff. The theaters at Syracuse, Morgantina and Selinunte were standard, nothing too exciting, but our final ancient site visit of the Sicily trip culminated with the theater at Segestum. This mountainside theater is amazing. The Cavea (seating arrangement) looks out upon two perfectly framed mountains behind the stage, and deep lush valleys. It is much smaller then the theater at Taoromina and more intimate, and the white limestone masonry is extremely symmetric. Professor Serfass organized a surprise for us – he had three centristi (my two favorites Blount and Andres) prepare and sing a number for us so we could hear what the acoustics were like. It was a lucky day for the 300 German seniors who happened to be the only others on the site this day.

Tauromina (it was pouring)

Number 6: The Lord of the Flies.

Sicilian flies were all over my legs (even if I wore leggings they would find my ankles) every single moment of every single day. It sucked and I spazzed out really badly a few times.

Number 7: Temple F – The Franco Temple.

On Wednesday after a grueling afternoon at the Acropolis in Selinus and a miscommunication fiasco between Franco and Scott the head prof (we were on site until 6:30 PM), it was time for another Franco surprise. In Selinus none of the temples had official names – apparently there isn’t enough proof of who they were dedicated to, so they are just labeled A-G. Temple G was awesome, probably the second most colossal in Sicily. Today it looks like a giant earthquake occurred under the temple and all the columns came crashing down into one another. It was nice though, we had time to walk through the ruins and climb up on some of them (look at my pic below). We saw the largest temple in Sicily on the Acropolis in Agrigento (the Temple of Zeus) and some of its remains in the Archaeological Museum there. This one has a name because there is written evidence (thank you Polybius) that describes it as one of the wonders of the world. It was not simple and Doric, like pretty much every other temple in Sicily… it in fact had giant statues of men called telamoms who replaced the columns as the supports for the roofs. It’s a pretty sweet looking temple (I’m only going by my observation of the hypothetical reconstructions I saw at the museum), kind of like a case that holds a mummy.  On Tuesday after Temple G we loaded onto the bus and Franco announced it was time for Temple F – the Franco temple. We loaded off the bus at a family run vinoteca and had a liquor/wine tasting. We tried a red along side a piece of crunchy bruscetta with sundried tomato paste (bought a container for you, mom) and spicy olives, a marsala, an almond liquor, and a desert wine with a biscotti to dip in. I officially like olives!

I'm just chillen on Temple G.

Number 8: Sausages… no thanks. More Canollis

Franco managed to get sausages on our menu (he would pick out the food for every meal and it would come in mass to us) at least once a day, every single day. The first time they were decent, the fifth time was not so fun, especially because there weren’t any other options. Dessert after dinner was one of my favorite daily events… the sugar rush of dark chocolate gelato, the soft crunch of a sweet and flaky canolli, a tiramisu soaking in some sort of liquor, or a lemoncake with a tang.

Number 8: Tophets
The second to last day we went to an island called Motia (pronounced moe-sha) off the coast of Western Sicily. This is a third generation Carthaginian Colony from the one on the mainland beside it (we boated out there). It is cool because you can see elements of Carthaginian religious ritual that parallel those in North African Colonies. The Carthaginians would ritually sacrifice their oldest born male children to prove their loyalty to the gods in times of angst – basically they would give up the thing that meant the most of them. It was the highest honor to be the selected family – thus it was mostly boys from aristocratic families. We walked to the far west shore of Motia and were surrounded by small graves in a Tophet – or child burial ground. The creepy only gets creepier. Plutarch wrote about the ritual: he records that the procession would start out at the house of the victim with noisemakers, and would process to the shrine of Baal Hammon (Phoenician Zeus) where they would put the baby in a boiling cauldron. Interestingly, archaeologists found terracotta masks with smiling faces in the area – the parents would wear these so that they would have the appearance of being happy during the ritual. The ancients were just as vulnerable to emotion as us in the modern day.

Number 9: Cherry Tomatoes

On the morning of the last day we went to a small town located just outside Palermo called Monreale. I loved the town. It contained a huge Cathedral with a beautiful and intricately decorated knave (the entire genesis) and altarpiece with extensive gilding. We chilled in cafes in the central piazza, which was nice also. By the parking lot there was a huge market/fruitstand. I purchased a freshly squeezed frozen lemonade (the lady was making them onsite in a machine and fresh pitchers were sitting on a table) and a massive bag of cherry tomatoes (which she so kindly washed for me) that were only one euro and tasted like candy. It was a rather pleasant morning.

Number 10: Lesbian theater

Time for the dreaded ferry ride back. At least we were more prepared this time – well kind of. Alex and I made an epic fail at finding something good to carry on board for dinner to avoid the ferry cafeteria (neither of us wanted paninis, but were stupidly stubborn) and ended up with a box of ritz crackers, another of wafers, and peanut m&ms. Of course Ro found the place that makes personalized paninis and the entire centro followed suit and was chowing down on them in front of us. I guess the break from real food was kind of nice. Over dinner with the girls we were joined by another centristi named Emma who is one of my favorite people at the program because she is so chill and not weird in any sense/gets life (sorry guys I had to say it – the new thing at the centro is this game called ninja that involves standing in a circle and hitting people and freezing in awkward positions. It makes me cringe when a game gets fired up and we are in a public place because the Europeans think it’s the weirdest thing ever. I want to run and hide and pretend I am not in the program – ok that’s an exaggeration but it is pretty bad). Emma is openly lesbian, the first gay woman I have ever been close with. For the duration from dinner until I attempted to sleep that night Emma put on for Ro, Liz, Alex and me what she likes to call “Lesbian Theater” – basically her life story and responses to our questions about lesbians. For me this was great because I realized that up until that point I was incredibly naïve and influenced by prejudices and stereotypes. This discussion certainly cleared a lot of mysteries up. It also was awesome to sit down and listen to someone recount her life-story with so much animation and excitement.

Well there it is. I beat Sicily. It was not an easy battle and I am still recovering.  I am posted up in a comfy hotel in London for the first half of my fall break (we get a week off). I hung out at the U of Birmingham with my sorority sister Ms. Erica G. last evening and enjoyed a taste of the life of an English University student/ what she’s up to this semester abroad. Alex is here as well as her best friend from home is studying in London. We hit the British Museum and the National Gallery, and I am planning on touring the Winston Church Hill World War II stuff tomorrow. Then Erica, Alex and Alex’s friend Sierra and I are heading to Amsterdam for the weekend.

I love you all –sorry about the delay of this entry, I just really needed a few days to relax and do some reflecting. I am halfway there.

Isabella

pictures and map of Sicily coming tomorrow problems with the website again!

Mission Accomplished: Carcofi Guidia

Tuesday marked our first all day field trip in weeks that would take place strictly within the bounds of Rome itself. This doesn’t mean that it was any shorter or less strenuous, we spent the entire morning retracing the triumphal route of the conquering Roman generals (the path on which they would march after returning from battles abroad to display their spoils of war in an awesome spectacle and assert their power). I made it out of bed in response to my alarm, assembled my longchamp, grabbed some breakfast (my new favorite thing the centro has to offer is coffee yogurt… kind of odd, but great), took my cestini bag which per usual contained a container of provolone/prosciutto and Pina cake (Pina is Franco the director’s wife and this is his name for her yellow pound cake that I eat once a week), hopped on the bus, and got off at the Largo Argentina stop.

I would call this morning anything but exciting. We first listened to the professors talk about the giant ditch of ruins in the area called Largo Argentina (the name comes from a tower nearby that medieval popes erected). It reminded me of Boston back in its big dig days. Ok that was harsh. I was just trying to come up with a visual for you. I was paying attention, as this was our first stop on the old triumphal route and  there were several fascinating manubial temples in the ditch, which the generals of the wealthy men of the fighting Catulus family dedicated during the 3^rd/2^nd century. Manubial temples are temples that generals built to honor a vow they made in battle when imploring to the gods to help them.

Anyways, an hour and a half later at the climactic ending of manubial temple marathon, and just as I was dozing off circa 10:50AM, I smelled something wonderful that fired neurons in my distant memory, and then a few minutes later I saw stars… and then I fainted like I did that time in tenth grade after the drunk driving assembly (this is an embarrassingly true story) and everyone freaked out.

GOTCHA!!

Just kidding, I was in the Jewish Ghetto, smelled a baking loaf of my cousin Debbie’s challah, and saw Jewish stars on the signs of all the restaurants around me. The Jewish ghetto is located where the ancient Circus Flaminius stood, which was a meeting ground for Plebian assemblies and a place for spectacles for large groups. Quintus Flamininus, (pronounced Flam-in-eye-nus) was another general of the Roman Republican conquering era who was known for finally subduing the annoying Macedonian King Philip and cleverly pulling all of the fickle Greek city-states into the Roman empire. In Ancient Greek class the day before, I had translated a section of Flamininus’ personal biography written by the Greek author Plutarch. This snippet illuminated his character; he is exemplary of the types of individuals running around in the hey day of the Roman Republic.

During the Greek Isthmian games, an annual event in which Greeks from all city states would participate as a statement of their unity and peace (sort of like the Olympics), Flamininus ostentatiously decided to announce their freedom and ability to exist peacefully and without taxation or garrison, of course thanks to the Romans and mainly Flamininus himself. Plutarch describes how Flamininus became the champion of the games. The Greeks didn’t even care about the other athletic competitions signifying peace and independence, they just wanted to greet and hail their savior. Flamininus is only one example of the power hungry characters I encountered this week who left his mark on the city by spoils of war.

So after exploring the fruits of the Roman expansion in the third and second century BC, it was time for the real challenge: finding fried artichokes (Carcofi guidia), the legendary dish of the Jewish Ghetto in Rome, despite no restaurants yet being opened. Most classmates settled for the ricotta chocolate torte cake found in the bakery on the corner (a bakery to which I will certainly return to buy challah as soon as I am back from my travels of the next two weeks), but determined girls like Alex and I knew what we wanted and set out ambitiously in search of the legendary artichokes. Along the way we were side tracked at a tourist shop because Alex absolutely needed to buy a gold SPQR bracelet. At first I protested the detour and said that we couldn’t afford digressions (she won), BUT while she was paying, the cashier overheard us talking about our mission. It was fate and five minutes later we were sitting in his buddy’s restaurant called La Bella Nonna (one of the most renowned, and yes mom its Zagat rated, restaurants in the ghetto). We were invited to sit down and treated to a to-go package of two, right out of the oil, perfectly sized fried artichokes. My artichoke melted the second it hit my mouth, a perfect combination of sweet and salty as Alex so perfectly claimed. I have never tasted anything so delightful in my entire life, and never again will I roll my eyes at the Zinman dinner table when Howard and Margie rave about the time they went to the Jewish ghetto in Rome and had fried artichokes without me. Mission accomplished! We are planning on taking our centristi friends back to La Bella Nonna for a Saturday night dinner in November, as we befriended the owner, host, and angelic cashier who showed us the path to salvation.

Fried Artichokes!!!

Friday morning we leave for the land of the godfather himself. SICILIA! A week of bus rides, over night ferries, changing hotels daily, Greek colonies, and delicious vino. Oh and of course finding a fabulous gangster to marry. Arrrrrivaderci amici!

Lizzie and I

Night Out!

On the manubial temple Marathon we went into an underground restaurant in which remains of the Theater Complex of Pompey are still visible! Notice the perfect opus reticulatum (first century BC style) on the wall behind me.