Italian Notebook and Florence and photographs and Giotto's Campanile

Though the City of Rome has more than 100 churches, many museums, the Roman Forum, the Ara Pacis of Augustus, Hadrian's Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain and many, many other remnants of Classical and Christian past, it doesn't seem to overwhelm the visitor. Perhaps this is because all these ancient symbols of classical and Christian realities are integrated into the modern, bustling and noisy capitol city. Yet, when you get to Florence, you are simply overwhelmed by the size and extent of the Renaissance Christian art and architecture that dominates the city.

Front and center in the city is the magnificent Duomo, capped by Brunelleschi's Dome. Just to the West of the Duomo is the Baptistery, with replicas of the "Doors of Paradise" by Ghiberti on the East doors (the originals are in the Museo d'Opera del Duomo to the Northeast of the Duomo itself). Giotto's Tower, or Campanile, with its 414 steps that 19th century visitor George Eliot mentioned as creating strange and interesting exercise for her legs, is right next to the Baptistery. This threefold reality of dominant buildings, the newest of which is more than 600 years old, gives Florence a sense that the religious and artistic past is greater than the "insignificant" present that the inhabitants are living.

When my friend Virginia and I arrived in Florence by train from Cinque Terre on June 27 (by the way, your connection to Florence goes through Pisa) and checked into our hotel, the modest Hotel Europa on the Via Cavour just North of the Duomo square, it was 96 degrees and about 4:30 in the afternoon. As if to prove the omnipresence of the Duomo and Giotto's campanile in town, all we had to do was look out of our hotel room window, and this is what we saw:

Though this isn't the best picture ever taken, it shows that even in the relatively crowded hotels and apartments of this Renaissance city, you cannot get far away from the Duomo and the Campanile. It took me a while to understand how we could see these things from the room, but here it is.

Climbing the Campanile Steps

Though it was uncomfortably hot, we decided that we needed a "panoramic" view of Florence, and thus we headed straight for the Campanile and its 414 steps. Fortunately most tourists are fair-weather people, and we had no line at all to climb to the top. Many other web sites talk about the oppressive or difficult nature of the steps, but there are only 414 of them (even though they are steeper than expected at some points), and you can stop along the way to take pictures and drink in the sights. That is precisely what we did. For example, after climbing about 100 steps, to the first landing, I took the following picture, looking out of the Campanile to the East (toward the Duomo):

This picture really should have a better focus to it, but it shows two realities. First, it demonstrates how the Duomo dwarfs the surrounding buildings. Second, it begins to show the characteristic red roofs of Florence, which gives the entire city a rather flaming red appearance from the heights of the Campanile.

Climbing Higher

We continued to climb, and rarely had to share the narrow passageway with another person. The next shot is after climbing about 200 steps, and is now directed at the famous dome.

Here is what you see: the great dome of Brunelleschi. You can also climb to the top of the dome but we decided we only had time to climb one huge structure, and thus we have this picture. Oh, to understand all the physics of the construction of the dome! Suffice it to say that it was among the most impressive architectural feats I have ever seen.

An Interlude

As you climb higher and higher you begin to climb above the ceiling of the Duomo so that all that is left is you and the dome. But you also notice the most meticulous craftsmanship in some work on the Duomo, craftsmanship which can only been seen by the few people that want to climb to the top of the Campanile.

Here is exactly what I mean. When I took this picture we were about 300 steps up in the Campanile. The excellently carved figure under the top of the facade of the Duomo can be seen by no one on the ground. The only people who would be able to see it are the few people like us who climbed to the top and decided to gaze out the side window. What does it say about artistry when so much care is taken in carving things that no one will see?

Conclusion

And, so we made it to the top of the Campanile. Actually, there was a cooler breeze at the top, a breeze that reminded me of the breeze blowing at the top of the Twin Towers in NYC when I took my son (13 at the time) to the top in early July 2000. Thus, in the 96 degree heat of Florence I got some relief. Then I turned to look at a panoramic of the city; the next essay will show you some of the things I saw.

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