The Marvelous Facade Of The Milan Duomo

After the tour, we went back out front of the Duomo and took some selfies, including with our guide extraordinaire, Veronica, and basked in the reflection of the sun off the stunning marble.

The style is known as Flamboyant Gothic, which means "flame-like."  The church facade is not as impressive to us as Sagrada Familia in Barcelona, but it's probably the second most impressive to us.  The cathedral largely eschews the Renaissance-style domes prevalent in the rest of the country.

The facade is a pentagon, with six vertical buttresses in expensive pink-white Cardoglia marble from north of Lake Maggiore, which is north of Milan.  The statues on the lowest levels of the facade are early Baroque.  The massive/impressive front door wasn't made until 1907.  I regret two things about that day -- one, that I didn't spend time photographing scenes on the front door, and that I didn't come back just before sunset to see it at dusk.

This is us.

This is us, with Veronica.

Well, I took a couple of

close-ups of the facade.

A precursor to the

Statue of Liberty?

"Lion with pigeon."  Or is it more

appropriately "Pigeon with lion?"

Isn't it glorious.  The answer is yes.

After leaving the Duomo, we hoofed back to our hotel and got ready for dinner.  The restaurant, Ratana, was located near the Vertical Forest buildings.  More importantly, it is a restaurant that Stanley Tucci spent some time in his season one episode of of his marvelous show, "Stanley Tucci, Searching for Italy."  I did not know that when I booked a table, but several tables of Americans filled us in while we dined on more delicious Northern Italian cooking.  

What a great way to end the trip!

Under The Duomo, More Churches!

So during the construction of a Milan Metro line running underground in front of the church, two churches were found buried.

Milan has been an important Christian center since the beginning of Christianity. so there were two church just in front of the Duomo entrance, but underground after more than 17 centuries.  

In Roman times, the city of Mediolanum was ten feet below today's level.  (Question for my more science-minded friends -- since a lot of this stuff is layered underground, is the earth getting larger?  I've wondered about that.)

The most important finding from the original churches is called the Paleo-Christian Baptistery of San Giovanni.  Before you freak out, Paleo-Christian refers to the early church prior to First Council of Nicea in 325.  

Anyhow, apparently the Baptistery was shared between the two churches.  People could not enter church until you were baptized at age 18 (or later).  It turns out this baptistery was where St. Ambrose was baptized.  He later baptized 31 year-old Augustine of Hippo, who was to become an influential Christian philosopher and writer.

There are also artifacts in glass cases, many of which date from AD 313, which is a long time ago.

The whole section doesn't take long to tour, and is definitely of interest.  We enjoyed Veronica filling us in -- just walking around on our own, we wouldn't have gotten nearly as much from it.

The best preserved mosaic.

The historic Baptistery.

Interesting pottery -- not sure when it is from.

The famed Milan snake

suggests to me that this

pottery is not nearly as old

as the ancient churches.

After The Roof And St. Bartholomeo Statue, The Rest Of The Duomo Isn't Quite As Interesting

Don't get me wrong.  The rest of the Duomo is interesting to see.  The stained glass, the apse, the nave, the pillars are all well worth seeing.  

So the headline is NOT a knock on the rest of the Duomo.  Instead it is more of recognition that the roof and the statue are so superb, stunning, and stupendous that the rest isn't quite as much the Wow! factor.

Veronica took us along the south side of the inside of the church, focusing on the stained glass.  One piece of stained glass is modern, while the rest are quite old, dating from as far back as the 15th century.  As per usual, the windows tell stories of the Old and New Testament to the peasants.

The nave is more than 500 feet from the massive, intricately carved doors at the entrance to the rose window past the altar.

There is a little red light on the cross above the altar, indicating the location where a nail from the cross of Jesus is kept.  It is on display for just three days in the year, in mid-September.

(Whether the nail is actually from the cross is way, way beyond my abilities to divine.  It was brought to Milan in the fourth century by Emperor Constantine's mom, St. Helen.  Moving on before anyone gets upset.)

At the entrance there is a Zodiac line.  At noon, a sunbeam shines in a tiny pinhole and indicates where we are on the zodiac calendar.  Maybe it was the lack of lighting, but I couldn't get my camera to focus on the zodiac symbols, so you'll just have to go and see them yourselves.

There's also a 1,000 year old stone coffin of the once powerful, now dead, Archbishop Aribert.  I wonder when the last year a boy was named Aribert, but I'd bet money there aren't Ariberts now.  

There is also a red coffin belong to the Visconti family who commissioned the building of the church.  I don't think they funded all 600 years of construction, but I could be wrong.

The church also has four 16th century pipe organs, which apparently are quite beautiful to hear.

Napoleon crowned himself king of Italy in 1805 under the dome over the altar.  One good thing Napoleon did in Italy was to essentially finish construction of the church in 1810.

The rose window at the

back of the church.

This rose window was 

absolutely ready for her

close-up, Mr. DeMille.

The ceilings.  And the tree-

sized pillars.  Absolutely

stunning work.

Here's A Controversial Take: In My Opinion, The Statue Of St. Bartholomeo Is As Compelling As The David

Michelangelo's David is one of the greatest statues in the world.  Other nominees include Venus de Milo, the Pieta (also Michelangelo), the bust of Nefertiti, and other greats.

I would add the St. Bartolomeo statue in the Milan Duomo to that list, although we had never heard of it until our short visit to the Duomo in 2022.  It is unbelievably compelling to me.

  

One of the twelve apostles of Jesus, Bartolomeo (Bartholomew) was skinned alive and then beheaded by the Romans.  The sculptor, Marco d'Agrate, chose to show Bartolomeo flayed, where he is forced to hold his own skin like a robe.  d'Agrate was a student of Leonardo da Vinci.  The sculptor shows off his anatomy studies under da Vinci, as his muscles are the star of the piece.  It is a Renaissance example of the human anatomy, muscles and body structure.  His veins and tendons are also exposed throughout the statue.

He even holds his facial skin over his shoulder.  This is a lesson in human anatomy, with the skin off.  It's both fascinating and moving at the same time.

Some criticize the 1562 statue as "grotesque," "ghastly," and "grisly", but if you believe the human body to be beautiful, then you must believe this is a different way of showing the beauty.  Beauty is more than skin deep in this masterpiece.

(Editor: Good to see you still like alliteration -- three "g" words in a row.  Writer: Seriously, all three of those words were used in the three articles I read about the statue.)

I would go back to see the statue of St. Bartolomeo again.  And again.  And again. 

And here's some pictures. . .judge for yourself.  I'd be interested to hear your opinion:

To the left is Bartholomeo's

left knee to left foot.  Notice the

depiction of his muscles,

veins, tendons, and more. 

Draped to the right is his 

robe-like skin.

Stunning level

of detail.

Carol had the presence of mind

to take this photo with her

iPhone.  Yup, that's the skin 

and hair of his head, hanging

over his left shoulder.

Another great picture by Carol.

This close-up of his head

shows the body under the skin.

Look at his ear, for example.

Again, that's no robe draped

on him, it is his skin.  How

do these artists cut the

stone so finely without

ruining it.  The good news

is, I wouldn't get far at all

before wrecking it!

The rib cage with a thin layer

of muscles covering.

Mint Milano

(Editor: You’ve planning to use that headline since you started planning for this trip!  Writer: Well, it’s certainly possible.)

In 2022, we took a short trip to Amsterdam, Milan, and Lake Maggiore.  Milan was just a short stop on eight day vacation, where we had about five hours to cover the Milan Duomo and the Last Supper, before driving up to Lake Maggiore.  Most of Europe was in the middle of a horrible record heat wave (with the blessed exception of Amsterdam).  

Well, we drove into Milan.  We had to wait to get into a parking garage near the Duomo, and went to meet our tour guide.  We barely had any time to eat, so we scarfed down McDonald’s hamburgers (don’t judge – it was the best option given the amount of time we had, so yes, it was my first meal in Italy in 15 years and we went to McDonalds).

From there, we met our guide, Veronica, in the stifling heat.  I made the mistake of looking up to the top of the Duomo at a sharp angle, and nearly passed out.  I barely made it across the roof of the Duomo without passing out (although I took a lot of photos!).  Once in the cathedral for the inside portion of the tour, I couldn’t do much but sit in a pew, eagerly drink the water Carol and Veronica were plying me with, and hope not to pass out.

So one of our goals was to redo the tour – so we hired Veronica again via What’sApp.  (If you are looking for a tour guide for the Duomo and other parts of Milan, Veronica's What'sApp is +39 340 772 1721 -- she's excellent and we highly recommend her.)  Veronica also remembered us, probably because it was the first time she had a client try to die of heat stroke and dehydration on her.

To get the suspense out of the way, it was twenty degrees (Fahrenheit) cooler than in 2022, and we were able to complete the tour without me dying.

To me, the two most fascinating parts of the Duomo are touring the roof and seeing the amazing statue of St. Bartholomeo (a later post that you've probably already read). 

So we went up to the roof via lift and Veronica took us around.  It's worth just for the views of Milan, but also of the many statutes, gargoyles, and the flying buttresses (the Flying Buttresses would be a great name for a Christian rock band).

The Duomo has approximately 3,500 statues on it -- some big, some small.

(Editor: Did you count them?  Writer: No, I believe Veronica.  Editor: Well, I may have to go to Milan to fact check that number by counting myself.  Writer: You're an editor, I doubt you can count that high!)

Construction of the Duomo began in 1386, and wasn't considered finished until 1965.  For over 400 years the public could not go onto the rooftop -- it was for workers only.  

I've got a bunch of good photos from the roof.  I'm going to put my two favorites here so that readers don't just blitz past them in the string of photos.

I love the way this statue stands

sentry over modern Milan.  I

hope you think it is cool too.

The moon next to La Madonnina.

The Virgin Mary is the symbol of

the city, is the only gilded statue,

and stands 330 feet above the

bottom of the Duomo.

(For those bad at science, which

includes me, the moon isn't

next to La Madonnina, that's

just the angle I took the photo

from to get that effect.)

Anyhow, to me, the rooftop (and the front facade) make the Duomo special.  

From the lower side terrace, we went up even higher -- a beautifully carved staircase offering views of the Piazza del Duomo that takes people up to the rooftop.  At that point, we're directly above the nave, fenced in for safety by marble topped by arches and pinnacles featuring crosses at the top.  

Further above us, there are spires and saints in cages (I don't think the cages are symbolic, but I don't know.  There are 135 total spires, all similar, but each one different.  At the very top, we're 20 stories above the Piazza.

Oh, and I will leave you with a couple selfies from the roof:

More Photos Of The Duomo Rooftop

 

This statue is on a lower side

terrace of the roof.

Okay, this is similar to the

photo in the written blog,

but I like the framing.  If

you don't, please don't read

this caption.

Extreme close-up.  Note the moon.

La Madonnina without

the moon next to her.

A cool statue.  One of at least

1,000 on the outside/roof of

the Duomo.

The Vertical Forest from the

rooftop.  One of two apartment

buildings with over 90 plant

species on the facade of this

nearly 400 foot high building.

The other building (blocked

from this angle) is 276 feet.

Opened in 2014, they are

not quite 1.5 miles from

the Duomo.

Frogs and other whimsical

items are carved on the roof.

A row of stately statues.

A row of gargoyles.

In Which Our Hero Walks Into An Art Gallery And Walks Out Unscathed

I like art galleries.  I do.  But I also hate them.  I think I've got an internal clock that, after about an hour of drifting aimlessly through room after room, shuts my interest level down to zero, and I need to escape what was interesting but becomes stultifying. 

Now, that hour of patience rule doesn't apply to certain galleries, such as Sorolla's house in Madrid, the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam, the Dali museum in Figueres, the Koorie Heritage Trust museum for aborginal art in Melbourne, or any museum that showcases Impressionism, especially the Musee d'Orsay in Paris.  

Conversely, the "conscious to look at art" hour doesn't last 60 minutes in a modern art museum.  For example, the Guggenheim museum in Bilbao, Spain, is fascinating.  Well, at least the building is.  The artwork inside?  Throw it in the trash.

So it was some modest level of trepidation that i suggested to Carol we go to the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana to gawk at art.  The oldest museum in Milan dates to 1618, and includes original paintings by Botticelli, Caravaggio, and Titian.

The two gems of the museum are a huge scale "cartoon" by Raphael and a rare, finished oil painting by Leonardo da Vinci.  The museum is housed in a former palazzo, and just the rooms and staircases are fascinating to see.

After a bit of a mess getting into the museum as the docents sorted out tickets for a large group just ahead of us, the rest of it was easy.  There was a mildly funny moment when the docent offered Carol and I two of the group's tickets, but after we shook our heads, they found the two people who actually had bought those tickets.

I'm certainly not going to describe everything we saw -- that would be too painful for me to do, and more importantly, too painful for you to read.

The highlight of the visit took up an entire wall -- the Raphael "Cartoon" drawing he did to serve as an outline of his famous "School of Athens" fresco that is at the Vatican Museums.  

A "cartoon" back then is a full-sized sketch that is used to transfer a design to the intended surface.  There is a fascinating five-minute video with English subtitles in the outer room, and then in the dark room (to protect the Cartoon) you get to see the cartoon in all its glory.  

Raphael himself sketched the whole thing, and then his assistants transferred the to what was then the Pope's study wall by pinpricks along the outlines of the figures.  His assistants then did the actual painting.

There was another room that has paintings by Flemish masters, featuring works by Jan Brueghel.  While Flemish is a dialect of Dutch, I felt there is enough difference that I couldn't call them cheap cigar painters -- you know, Dutch Masters.

(In the 1970s, Dutch Masters ads on TV were ubiquitous, so if you know, you know.)

The most visually striking painting is in Leonardo Hall, which of course houses the only da Vinci oil painting still in Milan (The Last Supper was not oil).  His painting "Portrait of a Musician" is quite beguiling -- I found myself drawn back to it numerous times.  

Painted in the mid-1480s, it is da Vinci's only known portrait of a man.  The face is full-on DaVinci, from the eyes to the curls of the hair to the accurate representation of the ridges of a face.  The torso is believed to have been finished by Leonardo's students/assistants, because it is the only body in a Leonardo painting where the body faces the same direction as the subject's gaze, with no vibe of movement given off whatsoever.  

Walter Issacson, in his short chapter of the recent book entitled "Leonardo da Vinci" (SPOILER ALERT: the book is about. . .wait for it. . .Leonardo da Vinci) makes the case that da Vinci painted the head is because "the sense that this is an emotion-laden, real person, with inner thoughts and a whiff of melancholy, whose motions of the mind are about to trigger a movement of the lips."

That well-crafted sentence also explains why Issacson wrote best selling bios about both Einstein and Steve Jobs and I'm still writing a travel blog.   The Issacson book devotes over six pages to the painting, and is well worth reading.  (Caution note: I read 308 pages of the 808 pages, took a break, read a different fantastic book -- "The Wide, Wide Sea" by Hampton Sides about Captain James Cook's third and fatal voyage of discovery, and have restarted the Leonardo book.)

Also in Leonardo Hall (sounds like a college dorm built in the 1950s and badly in need of a refresh) there is also a large fresco of Christ receiving the crown of thorns.  It was painted by another of da Vinci's disciples, Bernardino Luini.  

There is also a large replica painting by Andrea Bianchi of The Last Supper.  When Cardinal Borromeo saw that original was fading, he had Bianchi paint on canvas a copy of the famed fresco.

The final touch is the Biblioteca Ambrosiana, the library, which has a daily display of da Vinci notes and sketches from Leonardo's Codex Atlanticus.  He used his Codex to sketch ideas, jot notes with his observations, and test draw human and animal figures.

I managed to stay conscious the whole visit, so I considered it a win.

(Understand that the first time I went to the Museo del Prado in Madrid, I complained to Carol about having to look at paintings of "Fat, Dead Spanish Princes and Their Fat Dead Horses" -- which, in the mode of Dave Barry, would make a great name for a rock band.)

Part of the Raphael cartoon of

The School of Athens.  It was

so dark in the room none of

my other photos are worth showing.

(Rather than risk a flogging, I wasn't

going to use a flash.)

Any post that includes a

Leonardo da Vinci

painting is a heckuva

blog win!

A Leonardo sketch from

his Codex Atlanticus

The exit of the grand

palazzo turned

art museum.

Piazza dei Mercanti, Flipping The Bankers The Bird, And An Unexpected Treat

Our last day in Milan we had a tour of the Duomo scheduled for mid-afternoon.  So first we covered a bunch of sights in the middle of the city.

Our first stop was Piazza dei Mercanti, which is not far at all from the Duomo.  It's a small square which held the center of political power in the city during the 13th century.

In the middle of the Piazza dei Mercanti is an arcaded, red brick building that served as City Hall, (Palazzo della Ragione) and the market hall.  The building is so big it bisects the square into two parts.  

The buildings are replete with the symbol of the powerful Sforza and Visconti families who ran Milan -- the snake.  It's kind of cool, but also kind of weird that the ruling families chose the snake as their symbol.  I guess they were more about fear than love, but their ability to make peace with both the Medici family in Florence and the Doges of Venice.  

That peaceful era brought stability, which allowed the Renaissance to flourish, so they weren't total snakes.

On the south side of the square there is a wellhead of note, and a balcony from which new laws were announced.  The balcony has a coat of arms, which of course means the snake.  

On the north side of the square is the Palace of Justice, which is a 16th century courthouse with a clock tower, a market for crafts, the bank, the city's first university, and its prison.

This neat fountain is actually

located by our hotel, but

I needed to include it, so

here it is!

This is NOT original artwork

from the 12th century at the

east entrance to Piazza

dei Mercanti. 

The Hall of Justice.

"The union of the snake is on

the climb."  Let's face it, in

the 1980s Duran Duran was

so good, they named it twice.

Part of the arcaded City Hall and market.

It's still used as a market today.  We didn't

get there in time for the market.  No biggie.

Our next step was to go see the bird.  Not a bird, but THE bird.  In Piazza degli Affari, which is the center of Milan's important financial district.  

The buildings aren't noteworthy for their architecture, as they were built in the fascist style under Mussolini in the 1930s.  The square does hold Italy's stock exchange, the Borsa.

In the center of the square, above the old Roman theater (now underground), there are, as Rick Steves wrote, "stern statues representing various labors and occupations celebrating the nobility of workers -- typical whistle-while-you-work fascist themes."

But the newest statue is the best.  And by best, I mean weirdest, most surprising, and most unusual.  In the midst of the 2009 recession, there was a contest to recommend a sculpture befitting of the financial district.  Here it is in all its glory:

Carol's photo is the best

because the blue sky makes

the finger stand out.

My photo isn't as good, but

it does show the detail of

the veins.

Yup, that's a statue of a middle finger.  Because the finger faces the people and not the stock exchange/banks, it represents the one percent flipping the bird to the 99%.  It's a striking 36 foot tall Carrara marble statue made by Maurizio Catelan, the most controversial Italian sculptor of our day.  The statue is titled L.O.V.E and was temporary at first, but because people thought it so appropriate, it is now there to stay.

So while Wall Street has the charging bull, Milan's symbol is not quite as positive towards the rich bankers and investment funds.  But, it is an unambiguous message to the corporate world.

L.O.V.E. stands for Liberta, Odio, Vendetta, Eternita (Freedom, Hate, Vengeance, Eternity).  Pro tip: Never be on the wrong side of an Italian when vengeance is a thing.

My only regret is not taking a selfie with the statue whilst flipping the bird!  If you can't tell, I was fascinated by this whole thing!

The unexpected surprise was an auto show, with (mostly) sports cars jam-parked into the Piazza degli Affari.  This is not a fee situation -- just like in my Fort Hunt neighborhood, car enthusiasts show up on a Sunday, open the hoods, and stand around admiring the cars of other enthusiasts.  

We've been invited to attend our local show to show off Carol's beautiful convertible Jaguar, but have demurred.  I can't see myself talking about having "adjusted the slobberknocker to make the engine purr and increase the air intake level for more speed" with people who could immediately tell I have no idea what I'm talking about.

Anyhow, along with the middle finger in the middle of the square, walking around the classic (mostly) sports cars was pretty cool.  It was near the end, as someone used a microphone and speaker to make announcements.  I assume they were announcing the winners of the various classes of cars, but I don't know for certain.

Here's some car porn for your viewing pleasure:

Okay, this guy isn't a car.  He's making

announcements of some sort.

Also not a car, but a cool pic of a guy and a dog.