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The Pantheon (article) |
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written
by zinnia / 10.24.2005 |
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Part 1: |
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Midday I came for the first time to the Temple of All Gods. Strolling towards the renowned architecture, the building – more specifically its rear side – first came into view. As expected, the back side of the Pantheon is nothing like the front, with yellow-orange building bricks in plain sight, nothing about it hints to the ever so famous Roman masterpiece. Entering Piazza della Rotunda, I was taken back by the bustling people filling the square: venders waving one euro postcard packs, people chatting away in tented cafés. Passing through talkative tour-guides and avoiding distraction from the venders, I stepped into the renowned dome. It is much more quieter here. People find their own way of admiring the rotunda: some trace along the circular wall, some with digital cameras flashing nonstop, still others have heads buried in the building’s history. As I watched tourists from all over tilting their heads to admire the great architecture, staring at it in awe, I felt a sense of proudness for the edifice. The ancient Romans triumphed with the Pantheon. As the single completely preserved architecture from ancient Roman times, the Pantheon successfully fulfilled the duty that it – and most other buildings – was commissioned for. For centuries after Roman Empire’s downfall, people from far and wide marvel at the building’s durability and design, allowing the Romans to live on in these people’s memories.
It was pouring quite a bit as we strode toward the Pantheon one early morning. The sky’s persisting brightness lit hope for the amazing sight of rain/sun beam down the oculus. Unfortunately as we neared the building the rain had started to subside. Nonetheless, the increased sunlight today allowed one step closer to the actual vision than when we came previously. Although with only a drizzle left, this time I could discern individual water beads coming through the oculus! Disappearing afterwards, I was only able to see the raindrops again just before they hit the ground. If the sun emitted just a bit more intensity it’d be capable to see the rainfall’s entire journey.
The morning Pantheon indeed carried a distinct air than other times in the day. Even with the rain outside, only one person other than me stepped into the great dome while the rest opted for shelter under the portico. As I sat, pensive, my eyes landed on that one other person here with me, who was quietly sitting on the bench across the circular room. He, or she, seemed so mini, not even the height of the aedicule base. Actually, the building seemed so gigantic, I was finally able to appreciate the true magnitude of the architecture. When visiting during day hours, the Pantheon is consistently packed with tourist groups that hinder one’s view of space. With the rotunda’s refreshing emptiness, I sat against the perimeter wall and aimlessly traced back and forth the semi-sphere. This time the aedicules caught my eye as I realized a common peculiarity among them. Although I had previously known that half of the aedicules were rebuilt and decked with pediments of distinct style, it has always been difficult to distinguish which is the old and which the original from plain sight. Sitting there I became certain that the original ones are gable roofed aedicules; because these are the ones supported by four columns that are of the same design as the rest adorning the niches. On the other hand, aedicules with round pediments had distinct reddish-brown shafts; they are also not fluted like the rest. The Pantheon in the morning is the only time of the day when one can grasp the true glory of this marvelous architecture; appreciate each and every little detail of the design. It is also the one time interval where one can be basked in solitary, to set the mind free to wonder.
The Pantheon was not what I expected during the evening. As I arrived at Piazza della Rotunda, there were still herds of people; not as much when compared to occupancy during daytime, but enough to overthrow my initial notion of the place being deserted. There’s still people lingering inside the Pantheon. Very different from what I saw during the day however, most of the people now are a lot more pensive; mostly talking quietly in groups of two or three, and without the constant camera flashes. With the dusk sunlight softly illuminating the interior, the Pantheon felt peaceful.
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Part 2: |
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During each visit of the Pantheon, because of the difference in time of day as well as the company, my focus on space was different. When the dome was crowded and noisy in the day, I found myself constantly looking up, taken away with the flawlessness of the rotunda’s spherical top. At nightfall when there are fewer people, the walls with intricate carvings and harmonious shades of color become more appealing. It is only in early morning however, when it felt like I was the sole inhabitant of this edifice that I was fully able to appreciate the Pantheon’s vastness and open space.
Upon entrance into Piazza di Sant’Ignazio, I moved my gaze bottom-up along the building in front of me. It is a theater indeed. The building lining the piazza seemed tilted, with its top tipping into the square almost like it is about to topple over me. Glancing sideways I realized that the building extends out to adjacent left and right of the piazza, forming a semicircular curve that surrounds the center. There’s no better comparison for the space than a wide screen theater.
The design of Piazza Navona creates an allusion for its viewers. As I stand at one end of the piazza and trace my eyes down the long axis of the rectangular space, I hit the Fountain of the Four Rivers – more accurately the obelisk in the middle – and finish there. For the longest time, with so many passing through the square from and to the Campo, I had never realized that the obelisk marks the center of the piazza, not the end! The same holds true when at the other end fountain, my gaze could never exceed the Fountain of Four Rivers. Only when I traversed the entire length of the piazza – what I assumed the entire length, in actuality only half – did I discover the piazza’s other portion.
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