|
|
 |
|
Intention in Approach |
|
written
by shivali / 10.24.2005 |
|
|
| |
Part 1: |
| |
All of places on our long walk are bound by common intention: to remain hidden. Being hidden means seeking the sights out with purpose and in that process shedding much of the nonchalance with which most of the sights in Rome are greeted. Intention implies no passive action and no stumbling upon them as I did the Pantheon or Piazza Navona. With the approach inherently different, the appreciation deepens as the visitor must battle climb up steep hills or walk across town. These are not places that tourists necessary associate with Rome and therefore, they hold a deeper significance with Romans and the cognizant visitor, as well.
Parco Savello is elaborately hidden for the view of the passerby on the street. It is only accessible after a rather a steep hike up the Avantine Hill and after soliciting the various gates that span the park’s perimeter. A part of the park’s appeal, then, it’s picturesque scene unhindered by the mobs of tourists that are a part of other Roman sights. During our visit, at least, most of the people were speaking Italian. The park is intentional designed to enclose its treasures. Haphazard visitors would casually walk passed the entrance. The park is enclosed by a wall, not gates. One looking in has no expectations of the sights that they behold. From the park there is a 180 degree view of the Roman skyline with the Vatican and the Tiber River easily visible. Because of the park’s approach, a part of its beauty is the surprise view within.
The cemetery in which Keats and Shelley are buried is guarded by a high concrete wall and accessible only through a tiny gate located on a side street. Having intentionally sought out the sight, the visitor must explore. They must consider the intricacies of the graves and the glimpses they receive of the dead. For example, Keats’s grave is unmarked. He is buried in Rome- a city where immortality by remembrance has been a lifelong goal for centuries. Keats’ personality shines through only when one considers the hidden meanings on the single slab of stone. In doing so, practicing aesthetic distance is almost impossible when the sights are sought with intention. When the viewer seeks them as such, they are forced to consider the deeper meanings of placement, setting, lightening, word choice or lack thereof.
|
| |
|
| |
|
| |
Part 3: |
| |
At Piazza Testaccio’s public market, I was drawn in by a heavier set Italian woman folding clothes at the exterior of the market. She was neatly reorganizing brightly colored linen dresses which she was selling for ten euros. Curious about the low price, I explored her inventory. After entering the market, however, the scene was completely different. There is a blatant juxtaposition of shoes for sale and raw meat for sale. Butchers’ shops sit side by side to vendors selling womens’ shoes. Any shoe imaginable is available from bright red leather boots to golden strapped sandals. The market may be one woman’s nightmare and another’s dream: a one-stop destination for your shopping needs or a disturbing display of incongruence that never solicits a visit. But as I step in, it’s a relief to be away from the high-priced vendors in the Campo de Fioiri. The vendors are screaming to one another in Italian. Normal Italians are inspecting the goods. I have wanted to know the Rome they enjoy, not the overpriced, over-publicized, and overexposed articles that are scattered throughout the city. And while knowing them does many understanding and appreciating their rich history, as I roam around the market, I am increasingly aware that monuments are no representation of the rich diversity of life found in Rome. It is a diversity which is embodied by the juxtaposition of a shoe market with a meat market. Perhaps an outsider like me cannot understand the logic, but enjoying the market and shopping for items means attempting what few tourists could do. It means crossing the threshold from just observing a Roman’s life to living it.
|
| |
|
| |
|
|
|
|
