This imposing building
is located just down the street from where we
stayed, on the Via Nazionale. It was built during the reign
of King Umberto I. The structure betrays many influences. The entrance is designed to look like a triumphal
Roman arch in order to recall the
glories of the ancient city.
It’s
made of dazzling, white, carrara marble—the same material used by the great artists of the Renaissance to
sculpt their masterpieces. Finally, it’s meant to look a
lot
like Grand Central Station in New York City to show how modern the new Italian Kingdom was. All this for
a building meant to
serve as an art gallery, exhibition center,
and
lecture hall. A little too much huh? Agreed.
You find these piles all over the city.
Large, overblown,
screeching buildings yelling: “LOOK AT US! WE ARE BIG, POWERFUL SYMBOLS OF ITALY! There is a reason. Italy, while very, very old, is
not the same (most would say),
as
the Italian state. Italy is actually one of
the
newest states of Europe. The unification—in Italian, Il Risorgimento—began
in 1860, and was not complete until nationalist troops invaded Rome itself in 1870. Although all
revolutions can involve chicanery, theft, and violence, the Italian brand was particularly sociopathic from the start. To quote
the Italian James
Madison, Count Camillo di Cavour: “We should be great villains, if we did for ourselves, what we do now
for Italy.” Nice. Great start to a country. Today, most Italians love Italy, and could care less about
the Italian nation-state. In an effort to
build
a sense of national
identity and pride
in the new system, the Italian
kingdom built loads of grandiose, impressive, over-blown, buildings all
around the city. It hasn’t worked.
I love this picture though. Look at the
cobblestones made of volcanic tufa. Close your
(mind’s) eyes and try to imagine the exhaust smell from cars and diesel buses, mixed with coffee, sugary aromas from pastry shops,
the rank odor of garbage and dusty paper. Add the muggy breeze from the Tiber, screeching traffic noise, cell
phone conversations at your elbow in liquid,
non-stop Italian, a whiff of bread baking, and
you have
ROMA! Is it any wonder that I miss this city?
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