Ravenna Part II

 

I mentioned that I'd write more about our trip to Ravenna and now I'm going to try to explain a little about this city's mosaics and history. Three primary churches in this area (Sant'Apollinare in Classe, San Vitale, and Sant'Apollinare Nuovo) were built during Byzantine times, under the reign of the Ostrogoths, the rulers of Italy in the end of the 400's and beginning of the 500's.  The history of the Goths--Visigoths (western) and Ostrogoths (eastern) is sketchy because they didn't survive to provide a continuous history.

The primary ruler of the Ostrogoths (the prefix Ostro has the same root as Austria) was Theodoric the Great, whose tomb is in Ravenna; but not his body—Justinian had it removed when he was in charge. The most important element about the Goths is that they were Arian Christians who followed the teachings of Arius (not Aryans, the racial classification celebrated by Nazis and their philosophical descendants.)

Arians were heretics (according to those who prevailed) because they rejected primary elements of Trinitarian theology. (I'll write about that in my personal blog for those who want more information on the subject.)

When the Ostrogoths were driven out of Italy and into *oblivion,* (which evidently lies to the north) these Gothic structures fell into the hands of the Catholics who preserved their marvelous artwork; which in turn preserved remnants of their ancient theology.

Margaret Barker, a British Bible scholar, author, Methodist, and theologian included a scene from one of these mosaics on the cover of her book, Temple Theology. Though her photo only includes the right half of the scene below, she felt that it displays elements of early Christian theology regarding the temple.

 Her books point out temple themes that have been lost in most of today's Christian theology but that have been retained in the New Testament and in ancient architecture. For example, she notes that the existence of altars in every Christian chapel demonstrates that Christian chapels were an attempt to replicate the temple rather than the Jewish synagogue. No synagogue ever had an altar, which since the time of the Babylonian captivity and until Christian times, had been exclusive to the temple.

Back to Ravenna specifically, it was under the rule of the Ostrogoths until emperor Justinian's forces conquered them in 562 at a cost (according to Wikipedia) to the Byzantine Empire of 300,000 pounds of gold and the lives of 15,000,000 Ostrogoths. As a result of Justinian’s victory, some of the mosaics in the three byzantine cathedrals were modified to replace Theodoric’s image with that of Justinian and members of his court. Other mosaics show signs of incomplete modifications. Consider a close up from one from the newest of the three cathedrals, Sant'Apollinare Nuovo:

Notice that in the black area above the curtains, there used to be images that have now been scrubbed. Some think that the hands coming out from behind the curtains reflect evidence of attempts to scrub images; but it's clear that the hands are supposed to be in the mosaics because the curtain on the one on the right is draped around the forearm. A larger view of the scene shows more hands and perhaps an idea of what might have been erased from these panels--perhaps the work involved to remove these items proved to be too costly for the expected result. The fourth and sixth curtains have floating crowns above the curtains, and perhaps this is what was removed from the three arches on each end of the scene.

Look at the hands coming from behind the curtains at (counting from left to right) 1, 3, 4, and 9; and the evidence of scrubbed images is only at 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8, and 9.

Looking at the main curtain in the center of the scene, there are decorations on the curtain that are also present on the altar in the scene of Melchizedec in the church of San Vitale:

Notice also that these right-angle designs are on the curtain, the altar cloth on top of the altar, on the front of the altar, and on the altar itself (in gold.)

The same design is on the curtain behind Melchizedec in the oldest church--Sant'Apollinare in Classe, and on the clothing of men dressed in white in Sant'Apollinare Nuovo. The marks in the curtains are harder to see in this photo because there was a light stand on the right of the image--but the design is again repeated on the altar and on the curtain behind Melchizedec:

In this photo, the same marks are on the curtain. They are in each corner of the curtain but since it's drawn open, the marks at the bottom are obscured.

As you enter the church of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo inside Ravenna (as opposed to  Sant'Apollinare in Classe just outside of town), the main area facing the chapel and altar has men on the right, and women on the left.  Each is holding a royal crown. I'll discuss that element later, but a view of the men and women standing on each side of the chapel is also interesting.

One other item about these churches interests me greatly: There are no crucifixion scenes in any of the artwork; and every depiction of the Savior (except one as an infant in Mary's arms portraying the visit of the wise men) is as a resurrected personage. I have heard varying opinions--some have said that due to the plague in the middle ages, the emphasis in Catholicism changed from victory over death to that of suffering, and since the artwork in these churches antedated the black death, the idea of overwhelming suffering and sadness had not yet taken hold.

I'm more inclined to believe that Arians had a different theology that emphasized life over death.

In the first photo of this posting above, I included one mosaic from San Vitale's chapel. In the front of the same chapel in the dome is a representation of Jesus Christ as the Lord of the Universe, seated on the globe of the world (hmmm, before 1492), flanked by angels and two church leaders. Interestingly, Christ is clean-shaven in this depiction.

He is extending a crown in his right hand and there is the Greek letter omega on his robe.

All the walls have depictions of Old Testament prophets, the New Testament Apostles, and some other church leaders with a bearded Christ at the top. Across from the mosaic of Melchizedec, Abraham, and Abel, is another of the same format with Abraham, three angels, and what appears to be either Adam and Eve or Abraham and Sarah. The guides say it's Abraham on both sides of the table; but the clothing seems to be more consistent with Abel's in the parallel mosaic, so I think it's more likely Adam and Eve--and it seems odd to put Abraham twice in the same panel--one in a flowing robe and the other in more primitive clothing:

From my perspective, these mosaics of the prophets and apostles have the same function as photos and paintings that we have in our meetinghouses and temples.

This mosaic has the bearded Savior holding a book, just as the other depiction of the clean shaven Lord of the universe has a book in his left hand.

The apostles include Paul--rather than Judas Iscariot, or his replacement Matthias--and they're all named using the format where the letter 'u' is a 'v'). Anciently, the letter 'v' was pronounced as our 'u.' (Apparently, Caesar's famous declaration was pronounced "weni, widi, wikie.") 

Perhaps they realized they didn't leave enough room for Paul's full name "Pavlvs" and so it's written only as "lvs." James appears as "Iacobvs," the Greek designation for James--which is certainly closer than the Spanish "Santiago."

 

Italic Standard Time

 

I learned something new yesterday when I saw the above clock on the city's main Cathedral in Loreto, Italy. The clock face has only six hours and one hand. (There's a lateral crack in the stone face as well that makes it look like another hand.) Apparently, clocks of this type can be found in various places throughout Italy showing “Italic hours,” but this is the first time I’ve ever noticed such a clock. (Consequently, this post will be written entirely in italics.)

Italic Solar hour clocks first appeared in Italy in the mid 1300’s. In this system the new day began a half hour after sunset. In the 1600’s, the Catholic Church adopted the system as its standard.

In these six-hour clocks, four complete revolutions of the hand were required to reach twenty-four hours.

When the sun set it was the twenty-fourth hour; eighteen o'clock indicated that it was six hours before sunset, and coincided with the closing of the gates of the city or of the castle.

It seems to me that this would have been an untenable system as the length of days varies throughout the year, and someone would have to have adjusted the clock as the daylight hours changed. It would have been hilarious to have seen the Church implement this in the land of the midnight sun.

Traces of this ancient system can be found in literature and some idiomatic expressions and understanding the clock helps to explain some enigmatic passages in the Italian romance, I Promessi Sposi,--one, where a man returns at 11 pm, “just before sunset.” The days weren’t really that long—they were just using what I’d call IST (Italic Standard Time).

Napoleon’s invasion into Italy ended the Italic time zone as it was replaced by the one we currently use--when the new day begins at midnight. After the French had been expelled, the Papal State attempted to restore the Italic clocks, but couldn’t fight what had become a universal system.

 

 

Ravenna--the City I Dream About

We came to Ravenna for the weekend with our friends Eric and Loree Thorderson. They're about to finish their mission as temple missionaries, and although they had already been to Ravenna, they wanted to come with us since I was a missionary here and know a little of the history of the famous cathedrals in the area.

I think I have the tenderest  feelings for this city of all of Italy. There were things that happened to me here that   changed the trajectory of my whole life. I cried all the way through sacrament meeting yesterday. When I was here during the last century, my companion and I were the only members of the Church here.  Now, there is a very strong branch. 

There are 3 cathedrals in this city that are very much like temples--with startling differences from typical Italian cathedrals.

We left Rome Saturday after our shift at the temple ended around noon. The night before, we went out with Alberto Albanese and his wife Domenica, and at the end of the night he asked if we had snow chains for our car.  I hadn't even thought about getting them. He noted that if you're on the freeway between November and March without either chains or snow tires you are subject to significant fines. Sometimes I think we're watched over to keep us safe. Eric purchased some chains while we were in the temple.

We needed to go over a mountain range to get here, and one of the other temple workers told us to be careful driving in the snow. We thought he was being overly dramatic because Italians wear heavy parkas, scarves, gloves and stocking caps when the temperature drops into the 50's.  That is, until we were going through the mountains in a driving snow storm. We made it here safely with only a few brown alerts; but Robyn thought it was great fun and was gleefully taking photos while I tried not to cry.

It's now time to get dressed and check out of our hotel for the trip home.  I'll continue this later.

 

Update on Travels, Food, and Friends

We went back to Utah for Christmas and New Year's and now we're back home in Rome. That might sound strange; but when people asked us how long we were staying, Robyn always said, "We're going home January 2nd." It didn't sound at all strange to me to say that home was in Italy--perhaps for several reasons: our house sitters live in our home and we stayed in the basement; we have a lot of fun here; and we missed our friends. I'm going to skip ahead for today's installation and then go back and cover other items of our travels later.

Our good friends from Palermo, Sicily are back in Rome for a stint at the temple. I've mentioned Alberto before--he's the guy who calls me "Alfred" because so many of the Italians have trouble pronouncing my last name. He can say "Allred" perfectly well, but he keeps calling "Alfred" to mock those who can't. I've figured out how to fix saying my last name, though, for most people here. In Italian it's essential to pronounce double letters when they appear. Italians have a dickens of a time trying to figure out how to pronounce both els in Allred since the second el is also followed by a consonant. To say "now then"--allora--you must pronounce three syllables: al-lor-a. When Italians see "Allred," they feel they have to say, "Al-lred" and it just doesn't work. Usually, they add an "h" at the beginning (we haven't figured out that part yet), and it just goes downhill from there. If they leave off the "h" it usually comes out "Alfred." When I spell my name with only one "l" they have no problem saying it right though sometimes they still slip in the "Hall" part on the front end. 

Alberto and Domenica arrived last week and brought us goodies from their garden. Sicily is more tropical than Rome and gardens continue to produce all year. He gave us a type of lemon called a "cedro" (pronouced chay-droh.) He said, "These have a very thick peel on them; but they're sweeter than regular lemons and quite good eating."

From my perspective, they looked a little dodgy, and he was right about the peel. It was really hard to open up, (I think I used pliers in the process) and the lemon inside was just as sour as any other lemon I've ever eaten.

I told him a day or two later that I didn't find it to be particularly "good eating" and that it was as sour as most lemons I've tasted. He was a little puzzled by my comment, and a day or so later asked me how I had eaten it.

I explained the process and he said, "You don't the lemon part, you eat the peel!" I remember now that "peel" was the antecedant of "good eating." I tried some of the peel when I got home, and he was right. He sent me a photo of his grandchildren eating this fruit as the Italians do:

Culinary Delights and Trips Close to Home

I'm sorry that I haven't been more consistent with accounts of our travels in and around Rome. We have been taking some day trips on our days when the temple is closed. Two weeks ago we visited a couple of tiny villages that were absolutely delightful. We met an American couple (Craig and Jody Anderson) at Church who bought a huge villa out in a small village called Calstelnuovo di Farfa. It's about an hour and a half drive southeast of Rome through beautiful scenery. They invited us and the Thordersons to drive up for the afternoon and have dinner with them. On the way there, we stopped in Isola del Liri and walked through a very memorable village. There's a natural waterful in the middle of town, the manhole covers have unique mosaics on them--which must have cost a bundle.

As is the case with many Italian cities, they have zones where traffic is prohibited for most vehicles and the cities impose hefty fines for simply entering the zones. I got a ticket in the mail from the police in Florence for our last trip. I had no idea I had crossed a ZTL (Zona Traffico Limitata) and the fine was a little over 100 bucks. I got two notices the same day. The first one said if I paid it two weeks before the letter arrived it was only 70 Euros. The other letter said the grace period was past and I owed 100 Euros. Well, we knew this town had a ZTL so we parked on the periphery and walked through. There's a sign where people apparently stop to see the waterfall and take their picture. The town has installed a sign noting that's it's obligatory to kiss there. I was standing next to Eric Thorderson when we noticed the sign and so we ....quickly found our wives and took photos.

There was a pastry shop along the road and everyone wanted to get some hot chocolate--it's winter now with temperatures often dipping into the low fifties. Hot chocolate is one of my favorite culinary memories of my mission. One of my companions noted that Italian hot chocolate was a lot like melted candy bars--consistency rather than taste. You need to add sugar. Before adding sugar to her cup Robyn suggested that I take a photo because it was so thick the spoon stood upright in the cup.

As we meandered towards the Anderson's villa, we stopped at a small beautiful lake.

I didn't take any photos at the villa--I think because I was so astounded at the whole thing. It's huge and was built in 1776. it was amazing.

Life has Returned Back to Normal

 My son and his family returned to the states two weeks ago--and seeing them and our grandchildren again was wonderful. We went to hike in the Dolomites, to explore Venice. Florence, Rome and Sardinia together. I think everyone had as close to a riot as is possible traveling hundreds of miles in tiny Italian cars. 

My son Nate taught me how to break a banana in half.  The secret is in the elbows--seriously.  It took me only a couple of bananas before I could do it reliably. The first two bananas were a total loss, but now I can walk in the kitchen, ask Robyn if she wants a half of a banana and then break it in half with my bare hands.

Taxi fare from the airport to our apartment is about 80 bucks each way. With Nate and his wife and their four kids it would have cost 160 bucks to get them home via two taxis, and it was about the same to rent a van so that's what we did. We rented a van to drive down to Pompeii, dropped it off the next morning at the airport on our way to Sardinia and then we rented another van when we came back from Sardinia that Nate drove to the airport the next morning. I think that worked out very well.

Sunrise in Olbia, Sardinia

Sardinia was beautiful; and since it's no longer tourist season or beach season for Italians, the places we went were nearly deserted. The kids got to play on several beaches, we took a ferry boat (with the van) out to a famous island--that I can't remember the name of--and stayed at a resort hotel the last three days that it was open for the year. It closes mid-October, and there were probably 25 guests staying in this huge resort while we were there.  They had a nice pool with a water slide and a beautiful view. Perhaps because we were the only people at the resort, all the employees were very solicitous of helping us any way they could. 

View of The Resort's Swimming Pool When We Arrived

Guests who check into a hotel in Italy are required to have their ID checked--and that means if you're a foreigner, they're required to register your passport.  We arrived late in the evening after the office people had gone for the night and so they asked us to leave our 8 passports until the next morning.  The next morning, I went down to retrieve our passports and we talked for a few minutes about how to get to the beach and what they recommended for meals. I mentioned that I needed to get our passports. They asked what rooms we were in the clerk went over to the desk, grabbed the stack of passports and then said, "Wait, these are American passports. You're not Italian?"  That was the nicest thing she could have said to me. She said that my accent indicated I was from northern Italy.  

Then she said, "How can you speak Italian?"  I said, "I don't know, I woke up one morning and I could speak Italian."  (That's not the first time I've used that line.)  They all laughed and then demanded a better answer. I told them that my wife and I live in Rome and they decided I had grown up in Italy.  When I explained that we'd only been there for nine months, they said, "So your parents are Italian?"  I said, "No, they're Americans too."  This was very mysterious to them.  I explained that 49 years ago I lived in northern Italy for nearly 2 years as an LDS missionary. They were very complimentary that I could have learned to speak with a northern Italian accent in a little over two years.  I didn't explain that I have spoken Italian at every possible opportunity in those intervening years. We all had a very enjoyable chat.  There must be something about my accent though, because last Saturday a Roman asked me if I was from the Veneto region (Verona and Venice area.)   

Grandma Robyn enjoying the family

I Have No Idea Where We Are or Where We've Been

 

My daughter-in-law set the itinerary for our first week together in Italy. We picked them up outside the Venice Airport and immediately drove to the Dolomites. 

We're now in a village called "Ortisei" which I thought might have something to do with "six grains" but our hotelier explained it's the Italian version of the German name for Saint Urtijei--which is also the German name for Saint Ullrich. We drove through some scary roads to get here, but I have been assured that on the return trip to Venice we'll take conventional roads. 

Here in this village most everyone speaks three languages: Italian (with a German accent), German (with an Italian accent), and Ladin--which is a language spoken only in parts of the Dolomite Mountains. I asked our hotel clerk to speak some of it to me and it sounds like a really guttural German--which before I heard it, I wouldn't think there could be something more guttural; but this language has sounds from way further down the throat than German.

Children at school are required to study all three languages. I looked up Ladin on the web. The locals call it Ladino, but that's also the name of a Jewish language spoken mostly in Israel. Northern European, Ashkenazi Jews speak Yiddish, while Jews from Sephardic regions speak Ladin. Many of the Jews who settled in Spain were Sephardic and Ladin has very strong Spanish elements. The Ladino of the Dolomites is not at all related to the Sephardic Ladino.

We arrived Tuesday afternoon but this is a ski town that's mostly shut down before the ski season so we couldn't find anywhere reasonable to eat. There are some really swanky hotels that are open (and our less swanky but still impressive hotel and a few grocery stores are open. We got some groceries and put together a fairly German meal and then the kids did their homework. I needed to decompress after the stressful drive--I think the first time I've been carsick while I was the driver.

 

The vistas here are incredible. We hiked through several areas, and I heard a Scottish fellow explain my own experience to his friends, "I can't believe I took so many photographs of the same mountain peak!" 

This is really the end of the summer tourist season so there aren't huge crowds; but we still run across quite a few people taking in the scenery from all over the world. Most of the people we encountered yesterday were from Germany. 

After a late lunch at a ski lodge, we stopped to watch a farrier shoe a couple of horses. A herd dog (looked to me like a blue heeler) brought me a piece of bark about the size of a fifty-cent piece with the expectation that I would play fetch with him. Since it only weighed about 2 ounces, I couldn't throw it more than about 10 feet, but the dog was overjoyed. I noticed a stick that was about 6 inches long and showed it to the dog. He was happy to fetch it but wouldn't drop it when he brought it back. I tried to take it out of his mouth but he was resolute.  After a minute or two, he spit out the piece of bark and indicated he was ready to continue with the fetch game--but only with the bark.  We threw it several times and he'd pick it up with the larger stick still in his mouth, bring it back and spit out only the piece of bark.