Split Personality

 

I had been looking forward to this coastal city in Croatia for ages. Like a lot of travellers, I go for the history and stay for the palm trees. I'm usually urged to consider the gelato but it hasn't become a go-to. So Split, the home town of our erudite and personable guide Vanya, was my happy place, with its medieval and Roman structures literally grown together over the centuries, the scars of their uncomfortable fusion hardly visible. Of course, Vanya added layers of his own, sharing stories of the mischief he and his teenage friends got up to down the narrow medieval alleys, once the passageways of Diocletian's palace..

Split started out as Spalatum, the Roman name for this town that grew up around the massive (about 7 acres) retirement palace and fortress complex of the Emperor Diocletian, built over 10 years around 300AD. This photo from Wikipedia helps to visualize the build and the scale. 

In the day, the Adriatic washed up right to the base of the complex, and a sea gate provided access as at the Traitor's Gate at the Tower of London. So the gardens and parking in the photo above weren't there yet.

You can see the Roman arches of the massive wall, which has stood all this time, standing tall above the parking. Can you say 'gob-smacked'?

Given the astonishing history of conquest and ownership over the centuries since Diocletian, it's not surprising that Split's architecture is multilayered, fascinating, bewildering. But I don't intend to let historic fact-seeking to spoil the fun. I was in awe the entire day I wandered inside its walls, seeing marble raised by a Roman Emperor's people, and razed by indignant Christians later, who had suffered terribly at his hands.

 I read somewhere that in the process of smashing down all he'd built (although a lot of the dismantling may have been that ever-sensible Medieval reuse of ancient stone) some wise head suggested they keep a few spots and reuse them. How better to flip the bird in the face of this tyrant. So Diocletian's mausoleum became St. Domnius church in the 7th century, and a Temple to Jupiter became a Christian baptistery in the 6th. 

Roman walls and gates, modified over centuries

North Gate

Substructure, originally storage, sewers by medieval era

Oculus in the Vestibule, a ceremonial entrance hall

View fit for an Emperor from the Grand Hall

People and Peristyle - granite colums from Egypt

The central peristyle, once the ceremonial centre of Diocletian's residence, buzzes with tourists but there is always a quiet corner from which to observe Romanesque stonework, a 5th century BC granite sphinx (brought from Luxor to decorate the new pad), the Emperor's actual palace steps and colonnades or just do that thing we do, musing on history and change.

original portico surrounding Diocletian's mausoleum

Romanesque carved doors(1214)

the original Roman dome, columns and capitals of the mausoleum

Romanesque lectern

original basalt Roman columns

And if you want more, I recommend  Jet-Setting Fools, an outstanding travel site, thanks Sarah and Kris. Should their fabulous photos not be quite enough, here are a couple of great videos to tour you about.

 Through no fault of the creators, there are hilarious  errors made by the automatic captioning, which struggled with peristyle and did its best with "peristal,"  "Paris style," "pair style" and "hairstyle"    

If you, like me, want to wander more around the city, here are a couple of YouTubers whose photos likely say more than all my words, enthusiastic as they are: Andy's Awesome Adventures (ads) or Scenic Routes to the Past (kudos historian Garrett Ryan) with its phenomenal drone shots. Thanks folks.

Loggia Love

I came upon information about this intriguing building occupying a corner near Florence's Duomo while researching another post. So in the sure and certain knowledge that it interests noone but me, I record these facts about the Loggia del Bigallo in the Duomo Square in Florence. I was fascinated by the building, but the location was difficult to photograph. Hence, these two memories, photobombed unintentionally by a lot of other soggy tourists. 

The late Gothic building was associated with two benevolent confraternities caring for pilgrims, abandoned children and the indigent that eventually merged into one after financial diffuculties, an efficiency led by Cosimo d'Medici as treasurer of the Bigallo.

The corner location features a two bay loggia; two others were closed in at one point. The structure was built 1352-8 and the second floor was rebuilt after a fire

Here's a closeup. And here's Wikipedia: "two arched bays are richly decorated with bas-reliefs of prophets, angels, the Virtues, a Christ giving the benediction and an Ecce Homo. In 1697 the arches were walled up in order to provide more space for the oratory that is attached to the loggia; the masonry was removed in 1889, revealing the long-hidden decoration. Mullioned windows pierce the walls of the floor above, which was originally richly frescoed and three tabernacles...frame the Madonna and Child, Saint Lucy and Saint Peter Martyr."   I love the deep roof cornice and heavy carved brackets.

Here's a link to a great ArtTrav article about loggias - most of which I have visited in my loggia love affair. 

PS The discovery of the hidden decoration occurred two years after the Duomo was finally given its multicoloured marble facade. Just another illustration of the multilayered history of cities of a certain age.

Still Life

During two fairly demanding weeks of travel in Greece last fall, we managed to visit an astonishing number of ancient sites. I can still recall the buzz - excitement, crowds, demanding pace, challenging terrain and the sheer awe at standing before, or in, places I'd studied for years, and dreamed of visiting for longer. Three of those ancient places - the Acropolis of Athens, Olympia and Delphi - are endowed with splendid modern archeological museums. Recalling our visits to each of those impressive modern museums, I recall the same excitement, but even more enduring is the memory of stillness. August silence, reverent stillness. A moment to stand in the presence of something ancient and important. Just us.

Here are a few moments of awe, starting with Olympia. 

The Archeological Museum of Olympia, dedicated to Zeus and home to the hugely important pan-Hellenic games every four years, is a short walk from the actual site. Still in 'culture shock' from several hours of tour and wandering the site, we entered the silence of the museum. Nothing can be as still and silent as something carved in the first and second centuries AD.

I've included this statue, which is probably of Poppaea Sabina, second wife of the Emperor Nero, I'm told. 

Just contemplate the artistry of the drapery, try to remember this is 20 century old marble. And the hair. The face. The naturalistic contraposto stance. I'm sure she's pleased with the lighting.

And then I come upon Nike of Paionios. Nike "was the winged goddess of triumph in battle and contests, who symbolizes success, speed and strength." Thanks, AI. 

Nothing about stinky trainers here. 

I was at my most impressed when I got to meet Hermes and the infant Dionysus - yes, that Dionysus - in person. See his little arm reaching out for the grapes Hermes is holding in his right hand? This realistic (but for missing bits) duo was discovered on the site in 1877, in the ruins of the temple of Hera, which I've written about recently. 

It's the work of the celebrated sculptor Praxiteles. 

Our brilliant guide Dionysus with my man Hadrian, sculpture dating to the 2nd century AD. The detail in the armour is phenomenal. 

Of course, not everyone experiences these places in the same way. With her permission, I add this photo of my mischievous and irreverent travelling companion and her moment with a full-size bull sculpture hailing from the 2nd century AD. 

Ospedale degli Innocenti

Ospedale degli Innocenti

After a short walk down Via del Servi from the Duomo, Brunelleschi's miraculous red tiled dome always in view over my shoulder, I arrived in the Renaissance Piazza della Santissima Annunziata in Florence. 

And yes, the most venerated Marian shrine in Florence, SS Annunziata (begun 1298) with its cloister of important religious works was on the agenda. I got shooed out of the opulent church (Baroque, so no worries) as Mass was about to begin. I spent a long time with the Marian frescoes in the portico.

But what I came for was this, the incomparable Ospedale degli Innocenti, the 1419 Foundling Hospital, designed by Brunelleschi, which cared for orphans in this location from 1445 (as Florence's first) to 1875. Despite the hearts that broke here over the centuries of its mission, the Ospedale degli Innocenti was for me the most serene of places. I'd longed to visit since I first learned of this Renaissance icon in an architecture history class. And here it was, a short rainy walk from my lodging next door to the Duomo! Such a difference in mood. The crowds thinned and stillness prevailed.

Confraternity of the Servants of Maria (1525)

Indulge me a moment as I turn a 360 degree circle taking in all the early Renaissance buildings on Piazza SS Annunziata. Alas I lingered too long and my video's too large to load. Here's a little Streetview link should anyone wish to wander about, rather than read.

SS Annunziata Church

The equestrian statue of Grand Duke Ferdinando d'Medici didn't get much attention, and that was only partly due to the on and off rain showers. Likewise, the  piazza's celebrated sea monster fountains; they tended to lose their appeal in the rain.

A couple of red Renaissance palazzi complete the square. On the right in this photo is the Palazzo Bufoni Badini Gattai (begun 1561) with a glorious cloistered garden, where legend says a window shutter is always left open, to remember a young bride waiting for her lover to return from the war.   

Of even greater interest to me, I read that it's the only exposed red brick building in Florence. Coming from a red brick Ontario town, that kind of thing catches my attention.

The structure to the left has less illustrious origins, but at least the builders painted the stucco and added some age-appropriate detailing.

Basilica della Santissima Annunziata

The facades of the other two arcaded buildings on the square were redesigned at some point to echo the symmetrical portico of the Ospedale.

Loggia dei Servi de Maria

Ospedele degli Innocenti

The serenity of the square, the austere quiet of these buildings! Not the upward thrust and rusticated stone masses of medieval towers but something new, a light horizontal orientation, perfect symmetry and geometrical regularity. The harmonious principles of Classical architecture. The Ospedale's the first purely Renaissance building.

The design principles making an entrance were first outlined in De Architectura, a work by Vitruvius, a Roman architect and military engineer in the first century BC.   Leon Battista Alberti based his Ten Books on Architecture on Vitruvius' work (published 1485, perhaps on the newly introduced printing press.) Lots more detail here. 

Incidentally, Alberti was architect of two other buildings I now know and love, the Ruccellai palace and Santa Maria Novella, in Florence.

It's mind-boggling how these ideas from classical culture reappeared in the Renaissance. Not long ago I read a fascinating account by Ross King, of the 'rediscovered' Greek and Roman texts that fuelled humanism and the Renaissance. The book is based on the detailed journals of the manuscript dealer and humanist scholar Vespasiano d'Bisticci. The Bookseller of Florence brought the world of Renaissance manuscripts to life for me. The book recounts the 1416 discovery by humanist Poggio Bracciolini of Vitruvius' De architectura in a Swiss monastery. I highly recommend it. Reads like fiction  - with footnotes.

 Fascinating bits of this story surface everywhere. Just the other night, I  heard the book referenced in a documentary about the Silk Road (tmi, maybe?)

But back to the object of my affections, the Ospedale degli Innocenti. The most eyecatching decorative feature are the roundels symetrically placed in the spandrels of the nine semicircular arches, featuring a white infant on a blue background. 

These are (copies) of  glazed terra cotta tondi by Andrea Della Robbia, who pioneered the art in 1490.  The originals are on view in the museum.

 A babe wrapped in swaddling clothes

Not surprisingly, this famous historical building is now a beautiful museum, with some other occupants. I enjoyed the hubbub of daycare pickups in one of the cloisters at the end of my afternoon visit. How appropriate.

The museum follows the orphan story, as well as housing an art gallery of works donated to the Silk Guild which built and operated the orphanage. 

Here you can see a grilled window at the end of the loggia of the orphanage, the location of a device called the foundling wheel, where newborns, the only little humans small enough to fit through the grill, were placed anonymously on a cushion inside and passed over to the care of the nuns. 

The fine museum tells many sad stories, but the one that did me in was the tokens, carefully stored in drawers with the child's name and date of surrender.  Mothers would pin a tiny item, such as half of a coin or saint's medal to the infant's clothing, and retain the other piece, in hopes of better times ahead when they might be able to return and claim their own. 

I'm attaching a link to a fine video hosted by Kate Bolton-Porciatta. She is associated with a travel company; might look them up. The video provides a good tour of  the art, architecture and social history of the place. 

There is a fine collection of Marian art, items donated to the orphanage over time by wealthy patrons.

And the ubiquitous museum roof-top cafe where I enjoyed, as only a famished tourist can do, an uninspired sandwich and a welcome glass of wine, watching yet another squall come in over the city.

And if you haven't had enough (unlikely) this VisitFlorence link contains additional information and photos (in the sun!)

I spent a solo week in Florence (with a second in Rome) in October 2024. And despite several trips since, this one stays with me. I made up my mind to "make this jump without a net" after a day trip to Rome the previous year, on a group tour of the hill towns of Florence and Umbria, with a day trip to Rome. 

My Den always promised we'd get to Rome, but life had other plans. And when our group, shuffling past familiar spots, buffeted by ridiculous crowds, herded by a belligerent guide, passed right by the doors of the Pantheon with scarcely a nod, I made up my mind I'd book myself a tiny room in the 'centro storico' of  Rome and Florence, book every tour and admission ticket I could fit into 7 days in each city, and just go. And I did. And it went without mishap. And I want to do it again. "We'll see..." as Dad used to say.

Joining Bernie's Set

What can a UNESCO world heritage town on the Adriatic have in common with Formula 1 Auto Racing? Well, in the case of Trogir, Croatia, quite a bit. But that was just to get you reading, Byron. 

I'm going through the photos I took on a too-short visit to the island town last spring, identifying the fascinating bits of historical architecture and tracking our passage on YouTube along streets following the original Roman layout, squeezing through lanes and alleys inside the 13th/14th century city walls and just being a damn nuisance as we gaggles of tourists must be. I'm  sharing the enthusiasm of countless other visitors who have posted video walks on YouTube, checking my travel journal entry for April 28th and researching each of the astonishing historic structures I snapped.

Our charming and well-informed guide Vanja, native of nearby Split, told us a story about Bernie Ecclestone, director of F1 Racing for decades,  and a link to one of the splendid Venetian Gothic buildings on the seafront. Seems Eccelstone's first wife hailed from Trogir, so the secret was out, and it was only a matter of time before the international yachting set tied up along the Old Town waterfront.

According to Vanja, this structure was once eyed as the possible location for a posh club, and local opposition did what it does. The building persists as the distinguished home of an elementary school.

Appropriately, the day we visited there was a car show underway on the waterfront. But my attention was on the fifteenth century Venetian Kamerlengo Castle looming above it, so I have no details. Uncanny this. The fellow in pink shirt admiring the red Alfa Romeo could be my late love - this image brings back our agreed-upon divided attentions in such situations.

 

As we turn away from the waterfront promenade and breech the encircling walls the Old Town yields up its secrets.

Trogir Old Town, little impacted by modern development,  is well-known for several ancient buildings, so let's start with St. Lawrence Cathedral. It was built over several centuries as were many of the great churches we visit, so it shows the evolutuion of  styles from Romanesque to Gothic. 

We hovered for too-short a time in front of  Master Radovan's miraculous West Portal (completed mostly by himself in 1240.) It's encrusted with impossibly rich Romanesque carving.  Wikipedia (yes, I donate) provides lots more detail and this Christian Iconography site yields details of the features we squinted at from behind the barriers. The carvings provided graphic instruction in worldly perils and the hope of salvation, scriptural lore for the unbooked faithful.

About face and just try to take in the facade detail of the  Venetian Gothic Grand Cipiko Palace opposite. The only sites I find on my search are tour company ads - which attest to its value as a tourist site, but don't give me much information. 

The plaque describes "an ensemble of Romanesque buildings that was remodelled in the early Renaissance around 1457." They skim over the fact that Venice conquered little Trogir (which had long been the object of invader envy since its early days as a Greek trading town established in the 3rd cenury BC) in 1450.

 Not surprisingly, the remodelling was firmly in the Venetian style, and doubtless the previous owners had lost this palace, and everything else, to the invaders. 

I love travel but the arm-chair travel that follows, when I revisit photos, watch documentaries and follow jerky video tours, read and research and put together memories in photos and words is one of the best ways I know to spend winter.

Now I'm going to take a break from all the reading and looking and such with and savour some moments along the lanes and alleys inside this delightful partly walled medieval town.

South Gate

return to the mainland