Last days in Rome

Ok so it's been a few days since I have made contact with anyone back home, so I figured that it was about time to do so. The last couple of days have been pretty chill compared to the first few. We have been crazy all over the place lately, we have seen a ton of churches and museums and quite frankly it is all starting to blend together. So on Monday, at least I think it was Monday, we had a long church tour. We went from church to church admiring the art and architecture of each one. I thought it was kinda funny to see how little people actually went to the church for its intended purpose. The whole time we were in those churches I couldn't help but think of the poem "church going" by Philip Larkin. Here is the poem if you are interested.

Once I am sure there's nothing going on
I step inside, letting the door thud shut.
Another church: matting, seats, and stone,
And little books; sprawlings of flowers, cut
For Sunday, brownish now; some brass and stuff
Up at the holy end; the small neat organ;
And a tense, musty, unignorable silence,
Brewed God knows how long. Hatless, I take off
My cycle-clips in awkward reverence,
Move forward, run my hand around the font.
From where I stand, the roof looks almost new-
Cleaned or restored? Someone would know: I don't.
Mounting the lectern, I peruse a few
Hectoring large-scale verses, and pronounce
"Here endeth" much more loudly than I'd meant.
The echoes snigger briefly. Back at the door
I sign the book, donate an Irish sixpence,
Reflect the place was not worth stopping for.
Yet stop I did: in fact I often do,
And always end much at a loss like this,
Wondering what to look for; wondering, too,
When churches fall completely out of use
What we shall turn them into, if we shall keep
A few cathedrals chronically on show,
Their parchment, plate, and pyx in locked cases,
And let the rest rent-free to rain and sheep.
Shall we avoid them as unlucky places?
Or, after dark, will dubious women come
To make their children touch a particular stone;
Pick simples for a cancer; or on some
Advised night see walking a dead one?
Power of some sort or other will go on
In games, in riddles, seemingly at random;
But superstition, like belief, must die,
And what remains when disbelief has gone?
Grass, weedy pavement, brambles, buttress, sky,
A shape less recognizable each week,
A purpose more obscure. I wonder who
Will be the last, the very last, to seek
This place for what it was; one of the crew
That tap and jot and know what rood-lofts were?
Some ruin-bibber, randy for antique,
Or Christmas-addict, counting on a whiff
Of gown-and-bands and organ-pipes and myrrh?
Or will he be my representative,
Bored, uninformed, knowing the ghostly silt
Dispersed, yet tending to this cross of ground
Through suburb scrub because it held unspilt
So long and equably what since is found
Only in separation - marriage, and birth,
And death, and thoughts of these - for whom was built
This special shell? For, though I've no idea
What this accoutred frowsty barn is worth,
It pleases me to stand in silence here;
A serious house on serious earth it is,
In whose blent air all our compulsions meet,
Are recognised, and robed as destinies.
And that much never can be obsolete,
Since someone will forever be surprising
A hunger in himself to be more serious,
And gravitating with it to this ground,
Which, he once heard, was proper to grow wise in,
If only that so many dead lie round.



Well anyways, after reading that poem and visiting a huge number of churches that literally had maybe two people actually there for religious reasons, it made me think a little bit about the oddity of the whole situation.
Well, while we were church going, we saw some pretty important pieces of art. The number one statue being the ecstasy of St Teresa by Bernini Or the Pieta by Michelangelo. It's kinda insane that these important works of art are spread throughout the city and hidden away within churches. Oh also crazy, the ceilings in literally all of the churches are intense. The detail within each and every one is monumental.
Moving away from churches a little bit, I've also seen some pretty prominent museums. Yesterday we visited the Borghese Museum which has three statues by Bernini. The first one that greats you is his version of David. Now, everyone knows Michelangelo's version of David, it's probably the most famous statue of all time, but I have to say, even though I have yet to see Michelangelos first hand, I like Bernini's David so much better. He does a really good job capturing the intensity of the moment just before David slays Goliath. The face is focused and his gaze is intent. The whole story can be told by looking at the details of the sculpture. Michelangelo's on the other hand is static and needs a bit of explanation to understand what is happening. Anyways, that's my rant. Also at the Borghese museum is my favorite of all time sculpture, berninis Apollo and Daphne. This is in my opinion Bernini's best work. You would have to see it in person to really understand the fluidity of the moment that was captured in stone. It's beautiful.
So here are some pictures of some of the things I've been able to see while I've been here. The pic of David and the one of Apollo and daphne weren't taken by me, but everything else was... Enjoy!!