Bologna

A few days in Bologna left me with images of miles of galleries - or porticoes as they are also called - , churches, painted ceilings and walls, sun and blue skies.

In Bologna one need not get wet, even if it is pouring with rain. There are some 38 kilometres of galleries, covered walkways, some beautiful and ornamental, some shabby and covered in graffiti, but always fascinating in the early morning and late afternoon light, when the sun throws interesting patterns of shade and light on the pavement. Some galleries are built with ornamental pillars, topped by carved capitals, some are just made of brick. There are square pillars, round and octagonal ones, but all of the galleries are rather mysterious. I loved to go out early, when the historic centre was still quiet and not overrun by tourists. As the centre is traffic free and in other parts cars and trucks have limited access, it is as if one is stepping back in time, till one sees the number of mobile phones and other electronic gimmicks people are using all the time, such a contrast to the age old buildings, the imposing doors and entrances, the spacious courtyards often hidden from view, the plaques on the wall of the “pallazi”, telling us about its famous inhabitants: writers, musicians, composers. The house where Farinelli, the last castrate, got his training – and lost something precious in the bargain.

The Cathedral di San Pietro just after Sunday Mass, the sun shining on the bishop's seat, clouds of incense still visible in the rays of the sun.

 The altar and one part of the big pipe organ in the Basilica of San Petronio

Below, pillars in the San Petronio 

 

The first church I came across, the beautiful Santurio di Santa Maria della Poggia

The barrel vault of this relatively small church is stunningly frescoed

Then there are the myriad churches. Not just small ones, but most of them rather large or even cavernous, with painted ceilings and walls, ornate inlaid wooden choir stalls, tombs, tiny pipe organs, little jewels which are hopelessly neglected and no longer played. Some of the big churches have beautiful and large pipe organs, new and old. Lots of gold and colours, a wealth which is unimaginable. Many of those churches are originally or still connected with a religious order and attached to or part of a monastery; the cloisters oases of peace and quiet in the bustle of the city. There is also still a lot of damage due to an earthquake years ago, and several churches were locked because of that or partly fenced off inside.

The quiet Via Parigi with the two churches (not visible in this picture) which form a museum housing the collection of ancient instruments collected by Luigi Ferdinando Tagliavini 

 The front of the church with frescoes over doors and windows

 Inside: A cellist practising for a concert. A room with part of the collection

Some smaller churches are now used for concerts and venues or as a museum. One of those, in fact a combination of two former churches, the San Colombano, in a sunny and quiet corner in Via Parigi, houses a collection of antique instruments, clavichords and harpsichords, flutes and other instruments. When I happened upon it the last hour I spent in Bologna, a cellist was practising for a concert which would be given in the evening. I was fortunate to hear at least some part of it!

 One of the canals, and a former gate, now in the heart of the city after many expansions

There are the canals, which are mostly hidden under the city streets, with some rare exceptions. Most of the time the street names only betray their existence.

There are parks, markets and public buildings, every one of those with ornate ceilings, every inch of wood and wall covered with paintings.

Santa Maria della Vita

 Two scenes of life size terracotta figures took my breath away. They represented Jesus after his death, taken down from the cross and mourned by the women and his followers. The expression of raw grief and shock on the faces and in the attitude of the figures is striking and so life like.

 The lifesize terracotta figures in the Santa Maria della Vita, by Niccolo da Puglia (15th century)

One such group is found in the Cathedral, the other in a church hidden in one of the narrow alleys leading from the centre, the church of Santa Maria della Vita. In this church there are even two groups of terracotta statues, one in the church itself, and one in the sanctuary on the first floor, a chapel full of gold and colour.

The Sanctuary

And there are the food markets, with delicious smoked hams hanging from the rafters, or from hooks in the ceiling, huge chunks of cheese, parmesan and others, sausages and meats. There are the colourful vegetables, the greens, and yellows and reds, fruits and potatoes. It all looks so fresh and tempting. There are the bakeries and the confectioners, and the many cafes and “trattorie”, where the food is simple but fresh and full of taste, enjoyed with a glass of local wine and a bottle of mineral water.

This weekend the annual antiques market took place, spreading out from the triangular “piazza” in front of the San Stefano, the church of 7 churches, into the streets radiating from it, so quiet and peaceful the day before, so busy and noisy those two days. But very interesting with an enormous variety of real antiques as well as bric-a-brac, its stall holders eating their spaghetti lunches amidst the exhibited junk. Not to forget the weekly goods market on Friday and Saturday, full of clothes and leather, shoes and bags. Among the trash also beautifully made real leather goods, perhaps seconds, but cheap and gorgeous.

 Antiques Market, Piazza San Stefano

Although I saw many churches, I could not see them all and I even missed some important ones, being distracted by the antiques market on my way to one of those churches. Nor did I see all the parks, except for one or two and the park near the station where old and young hippies had their own market stalls smelling of exotic spices and cannabis, the stall holders wearing Rasta hair hidden by knitted caps, the women dressed in flowing flower power skirts, a different world, not hindered by national borders.

 Ceilings and walls,

 vaulted and with wooden beams

Old houses, modern transport in a town where streets are narrow and traffic limited