The War in Rome

"Courage, my love," reads the message carefully stitched inside the old wool sock given by a grieving family to a loved one held inside Rome's dreaded Gestapo prison located mere steps from the city's historic and magnificent church San Giovanni in Laterano.

Today, Via Tasso 145 is no longer the torture chamber of the Second World War but is instead the nondescript Historical Museum of Liberation - a small collection of artifacts, commemorating mostly Italians but also some Allied soldiers who lived and usually died fighting for Italy's liberation from Hitler's forces.

Rooms are lined with newspaper clippings from clandestine journals of the day and posters warning the populace not to harbour members of Resistance or Jews. Some boast numerous photos or letters by the 2,0000 prisoners who passed through Via Tasso, as well as stories of some of the most famous Resistance members, particularly the heroic Colonel Giuseppe Cordero di Montezemolo. An officer in the Italian Army who organized the Roman resistance, it is said that the Nazi SS interrogated and tortured Montezemolo at Via Tasso for 58 days, but he uttered not a word.

Intensely personal messages can be seen scratched into the windowless cells where prisoners were crammed, including many women who were part of the Resistance. Broken pocket watches showed the hour of seizure, while the personalized sock and articles of blood-stained clothing attest to the purpose of the prison.

The story of the Gestapo crackdown in Rome was immortalized in a brilliant 1945 film by Roberto Rossellini called "Roma: citta aperta" (Rome: Open City.) These photos were all from the deeply moving film which Rossellini conceived of and wrote with a partner while the war still raged around them.

The museum particularly focuses on the nine dark months of the Nazi occupation of Rome - from September 11, 1943 to June 4, 1944 - when the apartments on Via Tasso were used as a prison by the command of the German security police headed by Herbert Kappler.

When it was finally liberated on June 4, 1944, the public raced into the palazzo, freed prisoners and plundered the building, the museum says in its official history. Some displaced people lived there for a time until 1950 when the building's owner, the Ruspoli family, donated four of the apartments to the state.

I would highly recommend a visit but warn that almost all information is in Italian (with a bit in German.)

A Rome church filled with ghosts......

When my friend Laura asked me if I wanted to visit a haunted church in central Rome, I did not hesitate. I am not sure I believe in ghosts, or if they believe in me, but it certainly sounded interesting.

The Chiesa del Sacro Cuore del Suffragio, or the Church of the Sacred Heart of Suffrage, is on the banks of the Tiber, just opposite the historic centre and really just a stone's throw from the Ara Pacis (which isn't that far from Piazza del Popolo.)

It was built in neo-Gothic style between 1894 and 1917 by the architect Giuseppe Gualandi, so by Roman standards, it's extremely modern.

Why, then, the rumours of ghosts and the dead skulking about? It's not so old that it has had time to collect many dead, or old enough that any of Caesar's contemporaries would be hanging around here.

The link is explained by its Museum of Souls in Purgatory and the fact the church was founded in memory of the souls in Purgatory. (Just a reminder, the Catholic Church sees Purgatory as a kind of state or place where souls can be cleansed of sin enroute to heaven.) As a Catholic, I was raised with this concept so I can roll with it quite easily.

(Images are from Wikipedia; the art is illustrating Dante's version of Purgatorio)

Adding to the drama of this particular church, legend has it that on one of the pillars in the church, the shadow of man's head was once seen and this supports the notion that souls in Purgatory are stopping by. Presumably, on their way to Saint Peter's Square and the Vatican, about a kilometre down river from the church.

So, the priest who made the initial discovery began collecting further evidence, including strange fingerprints on a tablet, demonstrating that souls of the dead, now in Purgatory, stopped by.

Included in the one-room museum is a prayer book, where one page bears the handprint of a dead person that a priest swore appeared out of nowhere late one night as he was reading. And several scorched garments where witnesses said a dead soul touched them to get their attention. Why this tended to scorch fabric remains a mystery.

Speaking as a Catholic, and as a woman of the world, I find all of this to be rather farcical and far closer to superstition that faith. But then again, this was far more interesting and less freakish and offensive than the Crypt of the Capuchin monks at Rome's Barberini metro stop. That is just creepy and not worth the 6-euro admission fee.

Rome is full of surprises!

Rome is full of surprises. Take Villa Torlonia, one of the more unusual that I've seen in a while, including a very interesting complex of buildings and a beautiful park with large, shady palm trees not too far from Termini in Rome's centre. Its history includes providing a home and command centre for both the Italian fascist dictator Benito Mussolini, from the 1920s through the Second World War, followed by the Allied command.

It also features some very fanciful twists.

I laughed out loud when I saw the unique and playful Casina delle Civette, one of the most whimsical buildings in the complex. Although the House of the Owls (civette) was designed in 1840 as a kind of Swiss chalet, it drew its nickname from the owl motif that is used almost obsessively throughout the house.

The present structure, which is choc-a-bloc with interesting, Liberty/ Art Nouveau style stained glass, is apparently vastly changed from the original chalet style which was built to provide an escape from the main and massive villa.

The Casina delle Civette, which has two sections linked by an overhead walkway, now hosts a small museum and exhibition space.

Nearby, the larger and formal  Villa Torlonia, which was renovated during the 1990s and completed in 2006, now belongs to the city of Rome and is the site of a large museum of contemporary art and changing exhibitions. (Photo from AFP)

But for 18 years the villa, on Via Nomentana, was home to the family of Mussolini who actually built a large air-raid shelter underneath the historic home. Subsequently, in June 1944 the property was taken over by the Allied High Command, which remained there until 1947.

Today, the gardens also include a historic Temple to Saturn, a large theatre, a conservatory, an extensive collection of classical sculptures, fountains, great walking paths. And of course, a lovely bar/cafe!

Some Treasures of Tuscany

I was so fortunate last weekend to spend a few days in the Maremma region of Tuscany, staying with my friends Stefania and Paolo in their beautiful apartment in Manciano. The sun was wonderfully hot on their rooftop terrace, with such stunning views of the medieval town that it felt perfect. The rest of the house is protected by metre-thick stone walls, making it blissfully cool inside.Of course, some of us love the heat!

 Late at night, we saw so many stars from the terrace (to say nothing of the shadows cast by an imposing fortress built around 1424 when the town was briefly occupied by the Republic of Siena.)

Growing up out of the rocky hilltop was the nearby town of Pitigliano, whose history dates to Etruscan times, long before the Romans swept through Italy; long before Christianity.

The Etruscans hollowed caves out of the tufo rock which were later used as bakeries by the Jewish population that gave Pitigliano its second name, "Little Jerusalem". Jews fleeing persecution in other parts of Italy settled in Pitigliano which for several hundred years was a frontier town between the Grand Duchy of Tuscany and, to the south, the Papal States.

Sorano is another ancient town carved from the tufo rock of the area and also dates from Etruscan times. Today, it is filled with lovely little shops - some selling fantastic local cheese.

Like many communities in this part of Tuscany, it had been dominated by the Republic of Siena and later, the Orsini family. Both of which left their mark in great towers and fortresses.

I had no idea the coastline of Maremma, running along the Tyrrhenian coast from Grosseto to Capalbio, would be so beautiful, rivaling the far more popular and crowded Amalfi in places. I was fascinated by a thickly wooded promontory named L’Argentario.

Apparently, this has long been a vacation spot for wealthy Romans and includes such towns as the yacht-filled Porto Santo Stefano, and the colorful Porto Ercole, where the Baroque painter Caravaggio died of malaria in July 1610.

From view points, we could easily see across to the infamous island of Giglio (where the Costa Concordia crashed in January 2012, killing at least 30 people and injuring 64 with 4,200 evacuated from the luxury liner.) Stefania told me that on a clear day, the island of Corsica was also visible.

We took a delightful stroll through the nearby fishing port of Orbetello, with its blue-tinged lagoon.

And all this only a 90-minute drive north of Rome! Hmmm, I think I could be tempted to rent Stefania's cozy holiday apartment on the cool ground-floor and stay awhile....

Florence: Great art, great food, great friends, great discoveries

I made a few fabulous discoveries Thursday when I dashed up to Firenze, but I also enjoyed some  old favourites.

I wanted to spend the day with Ottawa friends Marcie and David, and we began with a lovely lunch at one of my favourite restaurants: the ever-reliable Osteria Pepo on Via Rosina, just around the corner from the Mercato Centrale. As always, I had their brilliant pappardelle al cinghiale (I love wild boar!) The sauce had surely been simmered for several hours to become so rich and flavourful.

But first, on my way their apartment, I stumbled across a tiny gem: a museum dedicated entirely to Umbrian master Perugino, the space dominated by a striking and dramatic fresco of the Last Supper. The Cenacle of Fuligno museo is located  in the refectory of the former convent of St. Onofrio on Via Faenza, once home to the Franciscan nuns of Foligno.

After the nuns were evicted in 1803, the Last Supper fresco in its refectory was covered with a layer of plaster. In 1845 the fresco known as "Il Cenacolo di Foligno" was cleaned, and the discovery was published as a work by Raphael. Debate raged for decades over the attribution until more recently, it was deemed to be a Perugino work.

This little spot seems to be open about four hours per week, and entry is free if you can guess when to arrive. I do love stumbling across art unexpectedly.

We were all interested in visiting my old favourite, the Galleria Palatina in the Palazzo Pitti, which also had an underwhelming exhibition on the role of dreams in Renaissance art. To me, the show failed to meet its brilliant premise.

But Santo Spirito more than made up for the lacklustre exhibit. I had never before been able to get inside this great basilica in the Oltrarno section of Florence but on this day, I finally arrived during opening hours and was richly rewarded. The enormous space, based on designs by Filippo Brunelleschi, is crammed with great frescos, paintings, and of course, the wooden crucifix sculpted by a 17-year-old Michelangelo and bearing an equally young, slim, fragile Christ.

Even better, after I made my way back across the Arno to meet people for a drink on the rooftop of the Hotel Continental (great views, shocking prices)  I also was amazed to find I could get inside Santa Trinita. This is another of Florence's stunning churches that closes for most of the midday, making it hard for careless travelers to get inside.

I was gobsmacked by the rich beauty of the Ghirlandaio frescos (Michelangelo was one of Domenico Ghirlandaio's apprentices) in the Sassetti Chapel depicting the life of St. Francis of Assisi. (No photos but above is The Resurrection of the Boy from the Web Gallery of Art.)

Living in Rome: 18 month anniversary

I am now marking my 18-month anniversary of living in Rome, yay! To veterans of living in a foreign land, the number probably sounds insignificant. But since I left Canada with a primarily goal of stretching my money to stay for just three months, reaching 18 is a milestone!

And although no one has asked this of me, I thought I would offer a bit of advice on what I've learned so far.

I have learned to fear and hate the Italian post office. I'm doing my Italian taxes now and it's mind-numbing. I can confirm that it's much cheaper to order coffee standing at the bar than it is being served at a table - but I never stand at the bar because I love sitting in cafes, savouring my cappuccino and drawing out the ritual for as long as possible.  I really enjoy shopping at the mercato and chatting with the (mostly elderly) ladies waiting their turn with the fruit and vegetable vendors.

No surprises there.But on the chance my experiences might be useful for someone else, here are a few other things I've learned.

1. Get Documents
Not everyone can do this, of course, but obtaining an EU passport was the best thing I did to prepare for this move. I thank my lucky stars that my father was born in Ireland which makes me a citizen of that country and therefore entitled to a European passport. Anyone considering a move to Europe would do well to scour the family tree to see if there are any links that would lead to an EU passport.

I'm not sure that I really understood when I got that passport (after much hassle, I might add) just how valuable it would be. It has opened many doors, from giving me access to employment and health care in Italy, to reducing the already overwhelming amount of bureaucracy involved in living here.

2. Make Contacts
The second most valuable step was connecting with people living here in Rome before I arrived. I reached out to people I didn't know, but who were in the same business (journalism). Through a chain of connections, I have become friends with someone at the Italian news agency who has been incredibly kind and helpful, particularly in linking me with work opportunities. It hasn't been easy but Anna Maria has opened doors for me, given me advice on navigating the hellish bureaucracy, introduced me to the right people.

Making contacts is vital before, during, and after a move. Emailing strangers isn't always easy - I know because I'm very shy - but there is an enormous pool of help and generosity out there.

3. Make Personal Connections
It is hard sometimes to practice a foreign language AND doubly hard to meet Italians when you don't speak the language. But a year ago, someone turned me on to a web group Conversation Exchange, which connects people who want to practice new languages with a native speaker also interested in practising new languages.

A bit like online dating, I met several people who weren't a good fit. However, I have also met some wonderful, generous people and made Italian friends (all of whom speak better English than my Italian.) It has given me lots of language practice, insights into life in Italy, and helped ease the inevitable loneliness of living in a foreign country.

4. Middle age is okay
Okay, this one will likely seem very odd, and obviously doesn't apply to everyone who wants to move to Italy (or anywhere else.) But changing one's life and leaping without a net isn't only for 20-somethings. Frankly, I'm not sure I could have made a move to a new country, a new language, a new life when I was much younger than I am now.

Partly, that's because I was SO ambitious for so long.  Everything I did from about age 15 to 50 was in the cause of moving ahead in my career. I still have plenty of personal ambitions, but I think that only now am I able to think about those.

Now, my goals have changed, broadened and softened and this has made room for a wider life.

5. Use Courage
I really don't see myself as a courageous person, possibly because I know how hard it is to force myself to do difficult things. But, I have learned not to fear fear. It is always going to be there, but it doesn't mean you have to let fear run your life or contain it to something smaller than you want.

Courage is like a muscle; the more you make yourself exercise it, the more habitual it becomes to use it. Whether it's learning a new skill (and looking foolish in the process) or going to the movies alone or moving to a new job, a new city, a new life - the only way to do it is to accept the fear and then push through it.

6. Accept Loneliness
Just as it's important not to fear being afraid, I think it's really important to not fear loneliness. It is going to happen sometime, somewhere to everyone so you might as well accept it, let it happen, learn to cope. Trust yourself,  and believe that you will be okay. Loneliness will come and go, it won't last forever.

Titian

A luminous exhibition of paintings by Italian artist Titian has been showing here in Rome, at the delightful Scuderie del Quirinale, the former stables of the Italian presidential palace, turned exhibition space.

The paintings range from my favourite, Flora (seen above) which now lives in Florence's Uffizi Gallery, to his late altarpiece, “The Martyrdom of St Lawrence” which has been wonderfully restored for the exhibition.

Born as Tiziano Vecelli or Tiziano Vecellio in about 1490, Titian - as he is known in English - lived for about 86 years and became known as one of the most important members of the 16th-century Venetian school.

Unlike many artists, Titian won acclaim during his lifetime. Some sources say he was known by his contemporaries as "The Sun Amidst Small Stars" (a quote from Florentine writer Dante's Paradiso),

Art historians say that Titian was extremely versatile, equally adept with portraits, landscape backgrounds, and mythological and religious subjects. That versatility is on display at the Scuderie, with canvasses ranging from self portraits to altarpieces to landscapes to rather scary depictions of mythological themes.

The exhibition has been arranged in chronological order and it was interesting to see the changes as his style developed and expanded throughout his lifetime.

Titian died of a plague that raged through Venice, where he lived almost his entire life and the city most associated with his work. It is said that he is the only plague victim who was ever allowed a church funeral. (I'm sure that my friend Annie, who knows Venice extremely well, could pinpoint his burial site.)

Experts say that his painting methods, particularly in the application and use of color, would exercise a profound influence not only on painters of the Italian Renaissance, but on future generations of Western art.