Ara Pacis & National Museum (Late Blog Post)

After the disappointment of the camera shop, I went on to see some sights on our last day in Rome. High on my list was the Ara Pacis. This was a peace altar dating from 13-9 BCE, another piece that I use in my class. It’s in a new building, constructed of glass and white marble.

Sometimes when I see an artwork, I feel like a teenager who spotted a rock star and feel all giddy. “Oh my god! There’s ________!” This would be a piece that 99% of the population would think, “Gee, that’s nice.” But I loved it to death.

After soaking it in (and enjoying their air conditioning) I moved on to the National Museum of Rome. Quite honestly, I picked that museum for very practical reasons – it was on the way back to the hotel, I could get in cheap with the Rome Pass, and the guidebook said they had a nice collection of Greek and Roman Art. No photos were allowed, so I was able to check in the backpack and just enjoy the works.

And there were a ton. I felt like every corner I turned and thought “Hey! I didn’t know that piece was here!” It was just beautiful.

Rome and the Camera, Part One (Late Blog Post)

The next day we went to the Coloseum and the Villa Bourgese. It was in the former where my camera lens died.

It wasn’t the zoom lens, it was the 18-55 mm lens; the one I call the “normal” lens. (Oh yeah, that’s a technical term.) I had been switching out the two lens out successfully, DH holding one for me gingerly, like we were performing a medical procedure. But then with the lens attached properly, the camera flashed “Lens Not Attached.” Why, yes it is. See? We must have attached and unattached that lens dozens of times – with the same disappointing results. It reminded me of when DH does his computer guru work, and this driver doesn’t recognize that driver, or the server doesn’t connect. (I feel my DH will read this with “No, no, don’t go there. You have no idea what you are talking about and it shows.”)

I will not pretend that I handled this well. I was lugging that heavy camera around, to museums that wouldn’t allow photos, and then when I can take photos, it dies. Sadly, I will now remember the Coloseum as being the place where my camera lens died.

After the Colosuem we went to the Villa Bourgese, yet another museum that did not allow photography. The owner at the B&B we stayed at had told us it was a small museum, but very beautiful. He was absolutely right. They had some fantastic pieces by Bernini, including his David. Between this museum and St. Peter’s I know I have to add some more Bernini to my Art History II classes – but that means I have to cut something out…

After the museum, WS’s stomach wasn’t feeling so good, and I was pretty hot and tired. DH went to check out the “Eco-Fair” that was going on in the nearby park. My DH has been interested in solar power for years now. There were all sorts of solar companies, organic farmers, electric cars… you name it. As he put it, “Honey, this is like a museum for me.”

Walking back to the room, WS and I passed a pharmacy with a time and temperature sign. It was 3 in the afternoon, and it read 37C. When you go to a doctor, and they say your temperature is 37C, that’s normal. 37C = 98F. Yikes.

Rome, Part One

Like our snafu with getting a train from Paris to Florence, WS (wonderful son) and his friends has their own nightmare train tale. They were trying to get from Barcelona to Rome, and had more then their share of snafus (no direct route was available, went to Dijon, France hoping for a spot on their overnight train with no luck. They ended up sleeping on the streets of Dijon from 12-4am, taking turns “keeping watch.”) When we met up in Rome, it was both a moment of relief and oh-my-lord-you-need-a-shower aroma.

We did laundry, and ate in a pizzeria, where WS said he had the best calzone in his life.

Vatican Museum & St. Peter’s

We got to the Vatican Museum later than expected as we need to pick up our “Roma Pass” at the train station; which was just an overall chore. The station is huge and the information (and directions) were unclear. Once we got that settled, we took the bus ride to the Vatican. The weather turned downright hot in Rome. We were constantly drinking water, and wiping sweat off our brow.

The Vatican Museum was enormous. There is so much art (much without air-conditioning) that it was mentally draining. After the Egyptian, Ancient Greek and Roman, and Early Christian sections, the brain turns numb and you become a rat, searching for the cheese known as the Sistine Chapel. The galleries with modern Christian art become diversions of the maze to the Sistine Chapel; it felt like the lines to an amusement park ride. DH kept looking around, “Is this the Sistine Chapel?” Which after awhile took on the tone of a teenager with the “Are we there yet?” of a road trip through Kansas. The Raphael Rooms prior to the chapel did aid in reminding you that you were indeed at the Vatican.

Turning the corner though the small stairwell, and then suddenly, there you are. Before you even look around the place you are accosted by two things. 1) There are a boat-load of people in this small church. 2) Security clapping their hands yelling “NO PHOTO!” and “SILENCE!” This was not affected by any means. The hoards of tourist who spend their hard-earned dollars, pounds, euros, yen, what-have-you, and who just walked route which made the walking across the Red Sea easy, were bound and determined to get their photo of the Sistine Chapel; and no Italian Security guard, clapping their hands was going to stop them. It was indeed bizarre.

No, I did not even attempt to take a photo. Why? Well, it was against the rules. Secondly, in my line of work, it’s pretty easy for me to get professional photos of the Sistine Chapel, if I ever have the need to look at them. (In fact, I have my lecture images files on my laptop right now. Let me go look. Yup, there it is.) Realistically, there was no way for me to take a photo that wasn’t blurry, or crowded with tourist, or would not instigate more yells of “NO PHOTO!” from museum security.

What did I think of it? Um, it’s little busy for my tastes. Yes, Michelangelo was a great artist, even though he preferred sculpting, he was also a great painter. I’m glad I went. But it wasn’t the awe-inspiring experience I thought it would be.

After a quick, non-memorable bite at the Vatican Museum Cafeteria, we went off to St. Peter’s. (It is a short walk, about two or three city blocks, in the blistering heat.) Before we got through security, we had to go through the decorum guards.

There were two men, whose job was to look people up and down and determine if their outfits were non-offensive. Seriously. When the guidebooks tell you that women need to cover their shoulders, and you can’t wear shorts, they are not kidding and one should not consider this to be a suggestion. I warned my guys and they were wearing their chinos, (grumbling that they better not have to wear these pants in the heat again.) I will admit that WS and I were tempted to take a photo of all the fashion rejects, standing at on the sides who were obviously miffed at not getting in – but we were in the Vatican, not the best place for sarcastic comments.


Now, St. Peter’s Basilica was pretty darn amazing. That had the wow-factor for me. I’m sure the sunlight helped.

I was never a big Bernini fan, but this was starting to change my mind. As big, fussy, and down-right gaudy that baldachin is under Michelangelo’s dome – it works. It fits. You couldn’t have anything else there. It’s the proverbial cherry on top.
So there I was, at the seat of the Roman Catholic Church, surrounded by masterpieces of art, taking photographs and what was I thinking?

“Wow, these photos will be great for work.”

Yes, that’s right, work. I’m on vacation! This is a trip for pleasure, and I’m thinking about work. Now I’ll admit to have an unusual line of work (teaching art history) and these places and artworks that most people rarely think about are often on my mind because I teach people about them. Which made me wonder if that was just part of the job, or do I think too much about my job?

(Side note – I must add what WS said later about the Vatican experience:
“There were so many hot chicks there! I looked at one and thought “No! I’m at the Vatican!” and then I turned around and there was another hot chick! And I kept thinking, “No, this is wrong. I’m at the VATICAN!” There were so many hot girls there, that place was torture.”)