Rome Journal III - Of All the Joints in All the World

I have to record an amazing encounter in an incredibly funky bar--not the usual Italian bar but a classic American one. Yesterday afternoon, after I had finished everything I needed to do at the AAR library and thanked the staff, Ron and I went out to run errands and have dinner. The errand running is worth a mention by itself. Ron is worried that my suitcase (cheap Italian one picked up years ago to hold extra purchases, and pressed into service because my expensive Rick Steves carry-on broke)will not make the return journey--it's already lost a handle and the wheels are coming loose. At the very least, he urged me, get a wrap-around strap. Where do you find such a thing in Trastevere, and how do you ask for it? Well, I remembered the word for "belt": "cintura." And I knew "suitcase": "valigia." As for where, I tried a hardware store: "cerco una cintura per la valigia." Amazingly, the proprietor knew what I was asking for, and from a box above the register he pulled one that works perfectly. That will never happen again, under any circumstances. Purchases made--soap, two mystery novels for the plane--we had a really nice dinner at a trattoria right on the main street and decided on a limoncello after dinner to top off the evening. On the corner of Via Mameli there is a storefront, and through the plate glass window you can see a bar with stools, couches and small tables. We thought it was attached to the restaurant next door, but there's no connection--it's a separate place called the Big Star, and though it doesn't serve limoncello, it offers six beers on tap, good inexpensive wines, and atmosphere. The sound system is amazing, and a fantastic collection of jazz CDs lines the walls--together with posters of Billie Holiday, Dizzy Gillespie, and other jazz greats. That's it. The whole place is tucked in between that restaurant and a veterinary clinic, and it can't be much larger than our apartment. Most astonishing of all, we were enjoying the music and drinks when another couple walked in. The woman looked at me and said, "Marilyn Skinner?" She was a former Classics major at the U of A, one of my students, and now she and her partner are running a private tour-guide service in Rome, where she uses her Classics background to give in-depth lectures on the ruins. I've run into ex-students in some very odd places, but I think this incident sets the record for coincidence. Today was really nice, too. First I had coffee with Anna Jackson, who is a professor of English at the University of Wellington in New Zealand, but also a published author currently writing a cycle of poems where she speaks in the voice of Clodia Metelli. Jeff Tatum, a colleague of hers at Wellington, introduced her to me by e-mail. If nothing else, she's consulting a team of experts--Jeff is the world's authority on P. Clodius Pulcher, and, given my own work on Clodia, there isn't much we can't tell her about that rather strange pair of siblings. In the afternoon, we saw the Ara Pacis, housed in the new and apparently still controversial museum designed by Meier. Lighting allows excellent photography. Sadly, the Mausoleum of Augustus is still next door, forlorn and locked up. I doubt it will ever be opened to the public, at least in my lifetime.

Rome Journal II - Trekking around Trastevere

Two weeks have passed since my last posting, and we will be leaving this coming Monday. Time to take stock. We did not get down to central Rome as often as I would have liked, but we have spent the time profitably visiting some of the lesser known museums and getting to know Trastevere very well. The only classical collection we saw apart from that at the Palazzo Massimo was the statuary at the Museo Barracco. The Museo was closed for many years, so my recollection of the pieces is rather dim, but I thought there had been more than were on display. The organization of the collection is chronological--the collector wanted to have examples of statuary illustrating all phases of Greek sculpture from the archaic age through the Hellenistic. Unfortunately, most of the examples were Roman copies of Greek originals. I'm not sure what purpose is served by showing two duplicates of the Doryphoros. That said, however, I noticed three different objects, all unique iconographically as far as I know, with the same subject--hermaphrodites. In a limited collection, three unusual pieces on the same theme (obviously a questionable one in the late nineteenth century) raise an eyebrow. I can't help thinking of the Warren Cup, especially since one of the items, a marble relief of a dancing hermaphrodite, reminded me instantly of a better-known image of a dancing maenad. We also saw the Brueghel exhibition at the Bramante Cloister, the collection of Renaissance art at the Palazzo Corsini, and the Raphael frescoes at the Villa Farnesina. In passing, let me mention that the "Corsini cup", a first-century CE silver cup from Arezzo on display at the Palazzo, has handles quite similar to those of the Warren Cup. One wonders about these nineteenth-century private collections. The really interesting thing we've been doing, though, is exploring Trastevere. There are an amazing number of small shops tucked around corners selling one-of-a-kind things--sandals made to order, clothing designed by the owner, antiques--though, again, buyer beware--and foods of all kinds. To top it all off, not one but two English bookshops, one new and one used. I have to tell about my experience in the used bookshop. Went there by myself late Saturday afternoon and was greeted by a British lady--not the shop manager, but someone who was watching the premises while he went out to buy cigarettes. When I said I would wait for him, she immediately introduced me to her puppy Nell, a three-month-old Jack Russell. While Nell proceeded to investigate the premises, finding things to drag around, her owner and I had a great conversation about books, especially Donna Leon mysteries. The shop is called Open Door, and it's right on Via Lungaretta--although they don't post their hours, it has indeed been open every time I've passed it. This trip, then, has been an introduction to Trastevere, which I had never really gotten to know before, despite staying on the Gianicolo so often in past summers. When I was living alone in one of Franco's apartments, Saturday evenings and all day Sundays were pretty dull. If I had caught the bus to Trastevere I could have done some shopping even in the evenings. So I wish I had known about the district earlier, but, in any case, I'm glad I've had the chance to visit now.