Naples and Campania, Day Eleven
23 May 2008

Mia Reinoso Genoni
miagenoni@post.harvard.edu

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

We started our last day with a huge bite of 18th-century Campanian architecture: the palace at Caserta. It was begun in 1752 for Charles of Bourbon, who wanted his own Versailles, despite the fact that at this point the idiom of the great French palace was out-of-date. He asked Luigi Vanvitelli specifically to imitate it. Among other quotations, we also see traces of the Royal Palace of Madrid and the Palazzo Farnese in Caparola; Charles was the son of King Philip V of Spain and Elizabeth Farnese.

(Photo by Marilyn Schmitt.)

The spectacular grand staircase is the most inventive element of the palace, though it too is reminiscent of the Royal Palace of Madrid.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

The garden complex is also based on Versailles. The grand scale is a clear symbol of power and authority - only the wealthy and powerful can afford to use land gratuitously, as opposed to productively, and to maintain it.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

On the other end of the spectrum is San Leucio, located about 35 km northwest of Caserta. This complex was conceived of as a grand utopian experiment, another of my favorite topics. In his Enlightenment-tinged vision, Charles' son Ferdinand IV imagined a silk factory with a commune for workers, in which everyone would have their own home with a loom and a courtyard and everyone would also receive an education. In keeping a typical and wonderful utopian conceit, the area was to be called "Ferdinandopolis." Some of his vision was completed; the ideal plan was begun by Francesco Collecini in 1789, and the factory and some of the housing were built.

Now on site is a silk production museum, which delighted and amused us greatly.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

However, we had to cut our visit short because we were racing against the clock to get to Sant'Angelo in Formis before a scheduled afternoon wedding. We just made it, as the presence of the flower girl in the doorway suggests. The Romanesque church made our haste worthwhile, however. Built on the ruins of the Temple of Diana Tifatina, it was given to the Benedictines of Montecassino, who rebuilt it in 1072-86/7.

Part of the fame of the building is its narthex, with its early pointed arches. The actual date of the structure is currently a matter of great debate. Here you can also see some of narthex frescoes with scenes from the lives of Anthony and Paul the Hermit.

The frescoes are clearly related to Montecassino. It is assumed that Desiderius created the program; the artists are likely among those he brought back from Constantinople to work on the great monastery.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Although the left apse cycle is lost, the right one remains: the Virgin Mary with Christ Child and Two Angels over Martyred Female Saints. In the foreground the wedding band is setting up - a wonderful vision of the continued use of the church throughout the millennium.

(Photo by Helen and Fraser Muirhead.)

That night we toasted Naples and Campania from La Fenestella, looking out over the Bay of Naples at Vesuvius. She kindly did not erupt during our visit, which probably means I should get to work on an SAH guglia. Ciao, Napoli e Campania! Mille grazie SAH e Scott Opler!

Naples and Campania, Day Ten
22 May 2008

Mia Reinoso Genoni
miagenoni@post.harvard.edu

On our final day in the city of Naples, we returned to the via Tribunali area, with a first stop at the Cappella Pontano. As I have a great fondness for small, harmonious, classicizing chapels, I found this building to be utterly enthralling. It is a sepulchral chapel commissioned by the Neapolitan humanist and soldier-politician Giovanni Pontano, built in 1490-2. Such a monument actually commissioned by the humanist himself is unusual, and Pontano put his knowledge to great use. In his own work Pontano wrote that the best way to celebrate during one's life is through a triumphal arch motif, the use of which is apparent here. Also evident is that the structure follows Vitruvius' prescriptions for small temples: it is rectangular, erected on a podium, and features a facade punctuated by pilasters, seen also in the following detail:

In many ways we can think of the chapel itself as a built treatise, a concept of particular interest to me. The exterior also features a series of classical epigraphs...

while the interior has epitaphs both classical and of his own composition; the latter primarily express his sorrow over the death of his wife, their sons, and his friends. The altar also features Madonna and the Two Saint Johns, a fresco by Francesco Cicino da Caiazzo.

We moved on to San Domenico Maggiore, a building that, like the Cathedral of Naples, truly deserves the name "complex." The main church was built by Charles II in 1238-1324. The Angevin structure incorporated San Michele Archangelo a Morfisa, and continued to grow with the addition of a vast theological complex. Such was its renown that scholars such as Thomas Aquinas and Giordano Bruno came to lecture.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

As seen here, the interior is of a scale and structure most commonly found in cathedrals. The interior went through a Baroque renovation, and the "restoration" by Federico Travaglini, of 1850-3, stripped down the decor and replaced it with the Neo-Gothic creation seen in this image. The only Baroque elements that remain are the floor, the ceiling of the nave, and the balustrades of the chapel. In its original Angevin incarnation, the interior would have resembled that of San Pietro a Maiella (see entry for 19 May/Day Seven).

The Dominican church also became home to numerous funerary monuments, dating from the 14th to the 19th centuries, including tombs of Angevin and Aragonese rulers. Depicted here is the Tomb of Diomede Carafa, in the Chapel of the Crucifix. It dates to 1470-1, and is often cited as the first "completely" humanist tomb in Naples. It deviates from the Angevin model, replacing the baldachin motif with a Romanizing round arch with pilasters, a la Andrea Bretagno. The chapel received its name because it houses the crucifix through which God is believed to have spoken to Thomas Aquinas, saying "You have written well of me Thomas."

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

The Sacristy contains an amazing 10 tombs of Aragonese and Spanish rulers and 35 dignitaries, all around the walkway. Included among these are Ferrante d'Aragona and Giovanna II of Aragon. In addition, the floor holds the 19th-century funerary slab of the first Catholic Bishop of New York, Richard L. Concanen, who died in Naples shortly after his consecration, while waiting for his transportation to arrive. Neapolitan drivers are clearly hell-bent on no such occurrence ever happening again, to which anyone who has navigated amongst the maniacally speedy citizens can attest.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Similarly to the Cathedral complex, in the Piazza San Domenico we find the Guglia di San Domenico, begun in 1656 in thanks for deliverance from the plague of that year. It was designed by Cosimo Fanzago, and finished in 1727 under the first Bourban king, Charles III. Saint Dominic himself crowns the spire.

Continuing with our Neapolitan Day of the Dead, we visited Sant'Angelo a Nilo, home to to the serene and powerful Tomb of Cardinal Rinaldo Brancacci. It was built in Pisa by Donatello and Michelozzo in 1426-8, and shipped to Naples. I was ecstatic to visit this work, as I have studied it extensively but had not yet had the chance to see it. The tomb is very similar to that of (Antipope) John XXIII in the Florence Baptistery, also built by Donatello and Michelozzo. At the same time, the tomb exists in a dialogue with Neapolitan monuments - which is very clear when one has the chance to examine all of them in person. As with the Tomb of John XXIII, we see a lunette above a sarcophagus with three figures below.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

That said, the floor-standing baldachin type is also very typically Angevin. Unlike either Angevin monuments or that of John XXIII, the baldachin takes the form of a round arch; this arch appears again in the Tomb of Diomede Carafa in San Domenico, but without the baldachin.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Likewise, the three figures of the lower register are found throughout Angevin funerary monuments and in the Tomb of John XXIII, but here we see a trabeated-like structure with caryatids, akin to the one in the Monument to Ladislao in San Giovanni a Carbonara. I've always loved the pillows given to the caryatids to aid them in their support of the heavy burden of the tomb.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Gesu Nuovo is across the street from Santa Chiara - a great study in contrasts. Built by the Jesuits in 1584-97, it incorporated the late-quattrocento Palazzo Sanseverino di Salerno. The Renaissance portal is still visible.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

The interior features a buoyant use of triumphant arches, clearly indebted to St. Peter's Basilica in Rome.
The power and joy of this motif is evident throughout the church - including the ceiling.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

We ended our day at the Cappella Sansevero. It was founded in 1590 as the family chapel of the Sangro, and was renovated completely by Prince Raimondo di Sangro di Sansevero from 1749-71. The interior is filled with a intricate iconographic program of Raimondo's devising that is related to family imagery and lore. Unfortunately, we were not allowed to take pictures inside, but once again we can turn to youtube to remedy the situation: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2tPyysZOE48

Naples and Campania, Day Nine
21 May 2008

Mia Reinoso Genoni
miagenoni@post.harvard.edu

(Photo by Helen and Fraser Muirhead.)

Moving outside the city walls, on Wednesday we started our day at the mid-14th-century Augustinian monastery of San Giovanni a Carbonara. The original site was home to many bloody tournaments, and the name "Carbonara" also reveals its earlier medieval identity as a town dump.

(Photo by Peter Goltra).

The church features numerous tombs, including the Monument to King Ladislao, located just behind the altar at the end of the nave.

(Top two photos by Peter Goltra.)

As these details show, the architectural idioms employed in this tomb are related to the political moment in which it was created. King Ladislao dies in 1414, leaving Joan II Anjou Durazzo as the shaky head of an Angevin kingdom threatened by a range of foes and "pretenders" to the crown. She commissions this tomb in 1428, dying herself in 1435 after having adopted Alfonso I. Because of the tenuous hold of the Angevins, the tomb is primarily constructed in a purposely retardataire way, to suggest connections to earlier Angevin monuments. As you can see in the first two details here, the upper levels of the tomb are medievalizing, reminding one of the portal of Sant'Eligio and the Tomb of Mary of Hungary in Santa Maria Donna Regina Vecchia. Here we see statues of Ladislao and Joan Enthroned, as well as Ladislao on horseback; as equestrian statues are not typical of funerary monuments in churches, it is clearly a statement of power. Fascinatingly, it is only in the lowest register, here pictured in the third detail, that we start to see a classicizing structure. It is a trabeated structure - a flat coffered vault - and harkens to the Temple of Mars Ultor in the Forum Augustus, as does the later Succorpo chapel in the Cathedral of Naples.

(Left photo by Helen and Frasier Muirhead.)

There are also two tombs in adjoining chapels that reveal the changing languages of and imagery employed in funerary monuments in Renaissance and Baroque Naples. Behind the altar is the circular Chapel of Caracciolo del Sole. It features the tomb of Sergianni Caracciolo (here on the left), who was Grand Senechal and Joan II's lover. The tomb, created by Andrea da Firenze, dates to 1441. To the left of the altar is the 16th-century Chapel of Caracciolo di Vico, containing the Tomb of Galeazzo Caracciolo (here on the right).

(Left photo by Marilyn Schmitt.)

It was appropriate that we chose to visit San Giovanni a Carbonara today, as it was also the visit of Prime Minister Silvio Berlusconi. Fulfilling a campaign promise to hold his first cabinet meeting in Naples, he came to address the issue of garbage strike, so it was a very Carbonara day. On the left is a photo of the garbage outside our hotel, which miraculously disappeared right before his arrival, and on the right is one of the many posters of protest.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Avoiding the protesters and the rain, we turned to Santissimi Apostoli, a splendid church reconstructed by Francesco Grimaldi starting in 1610, for Cardinal Ascanio Filomarino. At this time it became a Theatine structure, as is San Paolo Maggiore.

(Photo by Virginia Jansen.)

Of greatest interest in the church is the Filamarino Altar, created by Francesco Borromini for Cardinal Filamarino. The Cardinal had very strong ties to the court of Pope Urban VII, and wished to create an altar testifying to his Romanness. This altar is the only work by Borromini in Naples, and in many ways it was a trial run for his work in the Oratorio in Rome. He signed it in c. 1640.
Our final stop on a day filled with Berlusconi-induced detours was Santa Maria la Nova. It was originally built in 1279, created to house the Franciscan friars displaced by Charles of Anjou's construction of the Castel Nuovo. In the 16th century it was completely remodeled. We were not allowed to take pictures of the interior, but many reproductions exist, primarily of the famous ceiling that contains 46 paintings, which in essence serve as examples of work by the most important Neapolitan school artists before Caravaggio's arrival.

Naples and Campania, Day Eight
20 May 2008

Mia Reinoso Genoni
miagenoni@post.harvard.edu

Moving away from the via dei Tribunali toward the waterfront of Naples, we began the day with a trip to Sant'Eligio. Founded in 1270, it was designed for French nationals who had been injured during Charles of Anjou's 1266 and 1268 battles of conquest. The church eventually also served as hospital and cemetery. The portal is well known as being perhaps the "purest" example of what is known as "French Gothic" in Naples, with its slender colonnettes topped with crockets.

(Left photo by Peter Goltra.)

Because the interior underwent many renovations and was heavily damaged in World War II, its character is less coherent or definable, but the space retains a feeling of sanctuary.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Near to Sant'Eligio is Santa Maria del Carmine, whose origin is also linked to Charles' conquest. It was erected on the site where Conrad Hohenstaufen was beheaded after losing the 1268 battle, built in this location in part to commemorate the victory and in part to purify the land. Very little of the original Angevin decoration and articulation remains; the facade seen here is 18th century.

(Left photo by Peter Goltra.)

A Carmelite church, it is also famous for its so-called Brown Madonna, housed in the center of the apse behind the altar. The Carmelites were an Eastern order, and the icon Byzantine, leading to its moniker.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Moving across town, we visited Santa Maria della Concezione a Montecalvario, the only church on the tour that dates wholly to the 17th and 18th centuries. Reconstructed completely by Domenico Antonio Vaccaro, the church typifies the Neapolitan Barochetto style: fluid, light, and playful, in some ways a mix of the earlier Baroque and what would be Rococo. The design is a circle with a Greek cross within it, making it octagonal and allowing for eight chapels.

This view of the dome gives an excellent sense both of the beauty, lightness, and gaiety of the space, as well as of its structure.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Continuing along the via Toledo, we came to San Giacomo degli Spagnoli, the church founded in 1540 by Peter of Toledo, known as the "Urban Viceroy" for his many projects in the city. Of particular interest is the tomb of Peter and his wife Maria, pictured here. It was created by Giovanni da Nola, starting in 1539, with full assembly in 1570. The front features the couple in prayer along with a triumphal frieze depicting Holy Roman Emperor Charles V's entrance into Naples.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Heading southeast from via Toledo we went to the Castel Nuovo, one of the highlights. Of all the sites on tour, it is the one with which I was most familiar beforehand, and it was sheer joy to visit it again. The Castel Nuovo was founded by Charles of Anjou in 1279 and then rebuilt by Alfonso I (the Magnanimous) of Aragon in the mid-15th century. It earned its name because there were already two royal castles, but Charles felt that the Castel d'Ovo was too isolated along the shore and the Castel Capuano was too far from the shore. Alfonso I increased the fortifications, and built the fantastic classicizing entryway, the so-called "Aragonese Arch."

Its majesty cannot be captured in a picture this size. Alfonso I was adopted by the last Angevin queen, Joan II Anjou Durazzo, during a power struggle. He was a lover of Antiquity and already knew many of Naples' humanists before he came to power. Credited with working on the arch are a gamut of sculptors, including: the Milanese Pietro di Martino, the Dalmatian Francesco Laurana, the Roman Pietro Taccone, Isaia da Pisa, the Lombard Domenico Gagini, Andrea dell'Aquila, Antonio di Chelino, and the Catalan Pere Johan.

The most fascinating element for me has always been the brilliant incorporation of the triumphant arch motif: the Aragonese Arch harkens to classical arches (the Arch of Trajan in Beneveto and the Arch of the Sergii in Pula), the medieval Gate of Frederick II in Capua, and to the new humanism of the Italian Renaissance, all in one fell swoop.
New to me was the Room of the Barons, so-called because the feudal lords who had conspired against Ferrante I were arrested in it. Here we have a view of the spectacular vaulting of the octagonal dome.
We ended our waterfront day at the Castel del'Ovo, seen here in romantically stormy circumstances. The fortification dates back to an Early Christian hermitage, and the building underwent a series of additions and renovations, including under Angevin and Aragonese rule. The legend of this "Castle of the Egg" is that Virgil, who was believed to have powers with which he could protect the city, hid a magic egg in a secret dungeon. This local myth remained so powerful that when one of the arches crumbled during the reign of poor beleaguered Joan II, she had to announce that she had personally cared for the egg in order to ensure the safety of the castle and maintain order.

Naples and Campania, Day Seven
19 May 2008

Mia Reinoso Genoni
miagenoni@post.harvard.edu

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Monday morning we returned to sites in Naples, beginning with the Cathedral complex. Pictured here is the current entrance, facing the via del Duomo. Incorporating Early Christian and medieval structures with medieval and Early Modern decoration, the building is a tour of Naples in and of itself. In 1294, Archbishop Filippo Minutolo and King Charles II of Anjou began the building campaigns of the complex; as is evident from the chapels, renovation and expansion continued well into the Baroque.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

The cathedral complex includes one of the first Early Christian churches, built shortly after the Edict of Milan. The 4th-century Basilica of Santa Restituta is now accessed through an entrance halfway down the left aisle of the main cathedral. The Basilica, however, has a north-south orientation, which allowed its original entrance to face the decumanus.

(Upper photo by Peter Goltra.)

One reaches the 4th/5th-century Baptistery from the right side aisle of Santa Restituta. The mosaics are of extremely high quality and are deeply classicizing.

(Photo by Peter Goltra).

The main cathedral, dedicated to the Assumption, is oriented east-west, so that the altar is in its traditional location to the east, but the building now interferes with the Hippodamus plan of the city. The height of the nave and transept was changed by the addition of a gilt wooden ceiling in 1621, while the presbytery and apse were rebuilt in the 17th and 18th centuries.

(Two left photos by Peter Goltra.)

One of the chapels to the right of the altar is the late medieval Minutolo family chapel. It has some fine frescoes, including a wonderful Quo Vadis? scene, as well as fabulous crockets (left). The 1402 tomb of Enrico Minutolo (center) was the setting for Boccaccio's story of Andreuccio da Perugia in the Decameron. Immediately to the left of the entrance there is an eye-catching fresco of Mary Magdalene (right), an image which today suggests the combination of Lady Godiva and a hair shirt.

Under the altar is the Chapel of the Succorpo, or Crypt of San Gennaro. It is all'antica in form and structure, quoting the Temple of Mars Ultor in the Forum Augustus and utilizing a trabeated support system. It was built at the behest of Cardinal Oliviero Carafa, to house the bones of San Gennaro and to be the cardinal's own eternal resting place. The Succorpo is thus both a reliquary and a funerary chapel, as well as a stunning example of Neapolitan classicisizing architecture. Pictured here is the 16th-century Roman sculpture of Oliviero Carafa, with the family stemma visible above.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

The Treasury is directly opposite Santa Restituta, reachable via an entrance in the middle of the right aisle of the main cathedral. It was built in response to a terrible plague that rampaged through Naples in 1526-7; begun in 1608, this chapel was dedicated to their patron saint, San Gennaro, and two medieval chapels were demolished for its construction. Francesco Grimaldi designed the space; Cosimo Fanzago created the gilt brass gate; it was frescoed by Domenichino and Giovanni Lanfranco; and it features painting by a number of masters, including Jose de Ribera.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

In front of the original entrance to the cathedral, in the Piazza Cardinal Sisto Riario Sforza, now stands the Guglia di San Gennaro, a votive spire typical of Naples. It was erected in response to a Vesuvian eruption of 1631. Designed by Cosimo Fanzango in 1637, it was completed in the 1650s. The dome of the cathedral complex is just visible in the upper left of this image. Across the street (via dei Tribunali) is the church of Pio Monte di Misericordia, which houses Caravaggio's spectacular Seven Works of Mercy of c. 1607, dating to his first stay in Naples. Tragically we were not allowed to take pictures, but there is a short, grainy video on youtube that is of some aid: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JepeR1syo00

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

North and just slightly west of the Cathedral are the churches of Santa Maria Donna Regina, Vecchia and Nuova. Pictured here is the entrance to SMDR Nuova. The original church was created under the patronage of Queen Mary of Hungary, begun in 1307. It was enlarged in the 17th century, and, somewhat bizarrely, in the campaign of 1928-34 G. Chierici separated it into two churches, the "old" and "new".

One reaches SMDR Vecchia through a separate entrance via a classicizing courtyard. The church consists of a single nave with a truss roof, which is now hidden by a 16th-century ceiling, and has a polygonal apse, as seen here. SMDR was created for the Clarissans. As such, it had two audiences, as was also true of Santa Chiara. Here we see a different solution to this problem of two audiences, both of whom needed to face the altar, but one of which needed to remain invisible:

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

This view is taken from an angle, just in front of the apse. Here we see the nun's choir is actually elevated over the rest of the congregation, so that the Clarissans could celebrate mass but remain hidden. In the 1992 Gesta article "Hearing is Believing: Clarissan Architecture," Caroline Bruzelius suggested that perhaps it was more important that the nuns were able to hear the mass, as opposed to seeing it; although they would have faced the altar, the height of their choir may well have precluded any view of it. At the bottom right of this image we see part of the tomb of Mary of Hungary...

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

seen in full in this photograph. It was built after her death in 1323, by Tino di Camaino, and became an important model for Angevin tombs.

At the far west end of the via Tribunali, down the road from the original cathedral entrance and Pio Monte, we find the oddly difficult to photograph church of San Pietro a Maiella. It is dedicated to Pietro Angeleri, a hermit who lived on the Maiella, and who became Pope Celestine V. Tragically for him, he was better suited to being a hermit than a pope. He abdicated, fleeing to Montecassino, where, legend has it, Benedict arrested and then later poisoned him. The church dates to c. 1313-4, and is of interest in part because, as this view of the left aisle shows, it retains its original medieval facing. San Domenico, which we visited on the 22nd (Day Ten), had a similar appearance before it was stuccoed.

I happen to be interested in images of the Madonna del Latte, and was quite taken with this one: the Madonna del Soccorso, attributed to an anonymous quattrocento painter, and located between the first and second chapels to the left of the presbytery.

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

Our last architectural stop for the day was San Paolo Maggiore, located on the via dei Tribunali back towards the Cathedral complex. It is Theatine, that is to say, a church of the Order of Clerks Regular (founded 1524). Francesco Grimaldi, who was a member of the Confraternity, designed it in the early 17th century. It was built on the site of an ancient temple, and the elevation of the staircase coincides with the height of the podium of the temple. The portico of the temple was incorporated into the facade, set back a bit, but a 1688 earthquake caused it to collapse. All that remains are the two columns still standing, seen in the photo above, and...
in this detail. San Paolo Maggiore is the only church reproduced by Palladio, no doubt in large part due to this adept use of spolia.

A number of the great Baroque masters active in Naples also contributed to the decoration and articulation of San Paolo Maggiore, including Francesco Solimena, Domenico Antonio Vaccaro, and Ferdinando Sanfelice.

We had the remainder of the afternoon to ourselves. Some of us went to the Archaeological Museum, where we were treated to wonders like the Farnese Hercules, one of my favorite works. The size! The scale! The power!

(Photo by Peter Goltra.)

In this, and other stolen moments, others went to Capodimonte - pictured here is the Porcelain Room.