On Our Way to the Forum...

May 7, 2010   

Here, where the Roman million’s blame or praise

Was death or life, the playthings of a crowd…

A ruin -- yet what a ruin! from its mass 
    

Walls, palaces, half-cities, have been rear'd; 
    

Yet oft the enormous skeleton ye pass, 
    

And marvel where the spoil could have appear'd.

 Lord Byron  (“Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage”)

The Colosseum is simply iconic: its silhouette is certainly one of the most famous in Rome, and recognizable throughout the world.  As ruins go, it is beautiful and majestic.  But I think it is the ghosts of the past that still linger in its skeleton that capture the imagination and invoke the curiosity of the masses. 

Despite being dead, it still breathes history.  What was witnessed in that place nearly 2,000 years ago – the spectacles, the executions, the gladiatorial violence and bloodshed -- is part of its captivating and mournful spell, and tempers yet oddly does not diminish its haunting beauty.  But that is only because it is a ruin.  I cannot help but think that in its gorgeous marble-covered prime, at the time of the arena’s most barbaric use, its physical beauty was spoiled for some of the more tender-hearted Romans by the callous carnage and bloody sport it housed within.  

Constructed in the 1^st century AD over a 10-year period, it once seated 50,000 spectators within the constructs of its four levels of columns, arches and windows.  It was a gift from the Emperors of the time to the citizens of Rome, although all of the contests were traditionally financed and hosted by private citizens in the Roman ruling class.  It was a brilliantly conceived architectural concept for its day:  free-standing back-to-back amphitheaters to allow for maximum spectator capacity.  It was like an ancient version of a modern-day football stadium: the elliptical shape, numbered arches and entrances to direct ticketed spectators to their assigned seats, numerous exits around the exterior walkway to facilitate efficient evacuation, tiered levels of  seats to provide everyone a view, prime seats for the wealthy social elite and nosebleed sections for “the People,” cheering and booing for those that alternately thrill or disappoint, and bloodlust (which is now mostly figurative, depending on the fans and the teams).  It made me realize that not so very much has changed;  we still seek our entertainment on the arena floor, but now we pay the players millions of dollars for it.  And have much nicer public restroom facilities.   

Obviously, the center of the arena was the stage.  It was covered with wooden flooring and then canvas and sand to absorb blood.  The flooring no longer remains in place, exposing instead an elaborate 2-level substructure with passageways, rooms and cages built in below to house the (starving) wild animals and gladiators (mostly slaves and prisoners… and Russell Crowe) restlessly awaiting and perhaps dreading their turn in the ring.   Morbidly fascinating.   We discovered that we were a few months too early:  parts of the underground network of tunnels and rooms will supposedly be opened to tourists for the first time just months following our visit.  Cade was disappointed by the birds-eye view and wished we could explore it up-close, but Reyna pragmatically declared, “Better to see it than nothing.”   How true.  Besides, we all threw coins in (or around) the Trevi Fountain, so we’ll be back one day…

Following our guided group tour of the Colosseum, we met another guide for our Roman Forum tour.  We surveyed the vague remains of the Circus Maximus arena, where the famed ancient chariot racing took place a la Ben-Hur, and then proceeded to Palatine Hill for an educational overview of the Roman Forum.

The Forum was once the marble-laden center of ancient Rome’s political, social, religious, commercial and legal activities.   It was essentially the equivalent of a town square… on a marble-paved Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills.  In the Golden Age of Rome, this was a place of opulence, glory and grandeur. The whole Forum was bedecked in marble and limestone, and adorned with bronze and gold.   It must have been absolutely spectacular.  Over the centuries, the Forum (as well as the Colosseum) was pillaged and stripped of its marble and other valuable elements for the building of other structures around Rome (like St. Peter’s Basilica in the Vatican).

 

Even in ruin, it captivates the imagination, and I was pretty sure I could almost see the ghosts of Julius Caesar, Cleopatra, Mark Antony, Brutus, Sparticus, Caligula, Nero and Augustus wandering around in their sandals, tunics and togas.  Or maybe the ghosts of just some random important-looking toga-clad people.  I wouldn't really know the difference, come to think of it.  Regardless, it was a scene begging for some repressed thespian to launch into an “all the world’s a stage” moment, and release a dramatic impromptu recitation from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar.  “Et tu, Brute?  Then fall Caesar.”  I would have applauded.  Maybe.  Depending on his/her commitment to the role…

Our charming and attractive group tour guide for the Roman Forum was a knowledgable British-Italian named Jonathan.  I could have listened to his anecdotes and stories all day, and not just because of his accent.  J  My friend Janice and her girls were equally smitten with his engaging personality and mastery of Roman history, and he kindly agreed to meet us later for a private evening tour of Rome -- which included gelato sampling at his favorite three gelaterias in the city (Della Palma, Giolitti and...umm... I think I still have a printed napkin if you really want to know).  Delizioso!  Jonathan quickly became a friend as well as a tour guide; as a bonus, he was considerate and attentive to the children, giving Cade some much-valued male bonding time and even hunting down a bathroom in a pub for a Reyna full-bladder emergency.

Jonathan told us there are 913 churches in Rome, and proceeded to take us to see a number of them, including the city's smallest church as well as the Church of the Twelve Apostles, which still houses the tombs of apostles Phillip and James (and at one time, held the tomb of Michelangelo before his remains were stolen and taken to Florence).  We also visited the Santa Maria sopra Minerva and saw Michelangelo's beautiful marble statue of Christ, and learned that the head was left unfinished by the sculptor and had to be completed by another artist who was unable to replicate the glossy finish which was Michelangelo's trademark.  We heard about ancient Roman obelisks (serving as ancient story-tellers), Michelangelo's ego and questionable hygiene habits (allegedly his leather boots fused to his feet after four years of nonremoval), Rossini and the source of inspiration for Barber of Seville, favorite pasta recipes, mysterious locked doors of the Pantheon, and ghost stories of the Trevi Fountain.  After hours of walking and talking, we finally sat and called it a night on the Spanish Steps... and then let Jonathan go home to a late dinner with his long-suffering fiancee.  Ahhh, what a fabulous way to end our stay in Rome.