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Exit, no exit |
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written
by justinvf / 10.24.2005 |
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Assignment |
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Via Venito is the smudged Lamborghini dealership window. This crisp window on the rich has become a bit obstructed by grease, and now the locale is more for gawking at luxury than being at the heart of it. The odd store has no discernable entrance, but an obvious entrance is unnecessary. Those who have the means can mysteriously enter, and those who can only gawk can press their noses to the glass. Entrance becomes a sign of distinction, and the purchase will give the new owner their own glass window from which outside the world can gaze in and gawk. Further down the street the Hard Rock Café serves as another shrine to the opulent. Though occasionally celebrity will visit the place, it is more a stop for pilgrims of celebrity. With overpriced theme drinks and burgers with entirely too clever names, the modern devout can stop here for nourishment before continuing their quest relics of the dolce vita.
On the bottom of the Spanish Steps the first motion I felt was an upward one, not so much for architectural reasons, but rather to escape the feeling of constantly trespassing into others photographs. In the piazza the main motions are side to side, as I got caught in the current of tour groups, but once on the steps the photography pushed me bashfully upwards. This current continues until I feel comfortable in pausing at the first of the three major landings. From here I can comfortably take in the view for the first time, and see the crowds gathered around the unremarkable boat fountain. Along the sides of the steps heavyset pale tourists gather and chat happily in the shade, but being alone I feel like continuing after briefly taking in the crowd. I walk up the rest of the major steps and my next stop is in the black patio half way up the steps. Two children pose for a photo at the inscription, but barring them there is no one else in this area. In doing some research I see that this area is filled with flowers occasionally, but currently it is uninhabited. The fact that no one stops seems best explained by the lack of visibility of the space. Set back from the steps, one can not see or be seen in the enclave, which is against one of the main attractions the steps. As I continue up from the rest, the remainder of my journey feels dominated by the Rolex Ad. This becomes the drawing force to the top, bringing me past cuddling couples and beggars bowing down to the pavement. At the top I admire the Obelisk, but lack any feeling of accomplishment or change. Perhaps due to the renovation and the corporate covering of the building, but the steps don’t currently give me a feeling of arriving anywhere, and thus I head back down and stop at the railing above the black patio. Along the way I passed a few attractive ladies with their mothers, and a pair stands next to me at the railing. I get the sense that they are here for the mystique and romance of the place. Like the Via Venito though, it is not the experience they actually desire, but a chance to pay homage to experience. Of course no amorous encounter would ever start with mom standing right next to you, but the pairs are here more to explore and praise the idea of romance, to later tell others that they were at one of the romantic centers of the world, “just like in Roman Holiday”. The Spanish Steps has the legends of passionate Italian amore and by coming in a mother daughter pair this can be in the air but never threatening to materialize.
The nature of experience in Santa Maria della Concezione is opposite to the way visitors experience Via Venito and the Spanish steps. While in the two tourist centers, experience is based around homage to concepts which are not necessarily experienced. The tombs however are about interaction. The death these skeletons symbolize will befall every observer of them, and thus the viewer can relate to the experience rather than just ponder it. One does not pay homage to death, but rather comes to grip with its inevitability. To convey this, the space doesn’t let the observer simply pass through, but rather the viewer comes to an end and must change direction because of it. Though I found the place tacky, I still saw the bones as a part of my life that I will have to come to grips with eventually. The romance on the Steps is pleasant because one can leave it behind, or see the idea without having the experience. The grim message of the crypt affords the viewer no such luxury.
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