View Article: Two Perspectives on Materialism
University of Washington Honors Program in Rome


Two Perspectives on Materialism
Exit, no exit 1 of 1

  Assignment
 
I arrive at the Spanish Steps during my first free Sunday in Rome. At the foot of the stairs, I first notice the numerous clusters of tourists looking downward in my general direction. My second image is the enormous Puma shoe advertisement at the top of the stairs. Flat and monochromatic, this broad sneaker is both a brilliantly placed marketing tool and eyesore at the same time. However, it is not inconsistent with the atmosphere of the Spanish Steps and its approach. The Spanish Steps approach seems a planned, materialistic reinvention of the Campidoglio ascent. As the typical viewer advances up the Via Veneto towards the Spanish Steps, the walkway is symmetrically framed on both sides by luxury stores, drawing the passing crowds to the end of the avenue. The physical ascent of the cordonata is matched by the ascending price tags displayed in the store windows of the Via Veneto. Suddenly, at the end of the Via Veneto, the steps expand before your eyes- unfolding just like the three Palazzos of the Campidoglio, notwithstanding the monstrous shoe at the very top.

Even the single proprietor has found a way to make a living on the open, seemingly endless Steps. These stairs seem especially designed for sitting. As I lower myself down to rest, I watch two men working the crowd. One is a tanned rose vendor who circulates the crowds below, his roses bright red against the multi-colored swirl of tourists. Most sales pitches are rejected early, as tourists have grown weary of being bombarded by vendors of all sorts-cameras, flowers, toys, umbrellas, etc. But another younger man, with blond, curly hair, seems to be having some success by juggling hacky-sacs. Although he does a poor job and barely juggles for five minutes before one of the sacs juts off in a random direction, he has success in targeting families. With his pitiful looks, he gleans sympathy and a few coins.

As I am about halfway up the Steps, I am drawn to the constant motion of people, instead of the luxury goods and advertisements of the Via Veneto shops. The exits of the Steps are numerous and the openness and multitude of directions is revealing- like experiencing Rome in “small bites.” I watch a skirted, heeled Cabernari walk by and whistle at men to jump down from the banister. I see a child trying to take a picture with his finger over the lens. I hear a violinist playing Moon River, with the background of jazz being piped through speakers. People move and pause freely without much direction or constriction.

In contrast to the Spanish Steps, the Church of Santa Maria della Concenzione lacks openness and the feeling of the motion. Instead, the emphasis seems to be one of death and its finality from which there is no exit or detour. There is little variation to be found in the church; and it is enclosed, almost like a coffin. This design serves to focus the viewer’s attention on the church’s message of anti-materialism. Bones are used for lampshades, building materials and wall designs. In stark contrast to the glitzy stores surrounding the Spanish Steps, with their elegance and wealth of material goods, the Church signifies how inconsequential possessions become after death. For the living, bones may be one of the most important materials in one’s possession. Yet after death, the church demonstrates that bones have no more significance, and require no more special treatment, than a brick or wooden block. It is not the bones of the dead that are important, rather, it is the everlasting peace in their souls. Thus, these skeletal arrangements serve as a reminder that the glittery materialism of the Spanish Steps and Via Veneto is fleeting, while the integrity of the immortal spirit lasts forever.