Italy - Austria - Liechtenstein - Switzerland - Luxembourg -
France - Ireland - England - Florida
27 September - 1 November 2014

This was the longest single trip I've ever taken, not counting the four years of college
in the 1960s. The plans and itinerary came almost entirely from interesting descriptions and
pictures I had come across in recent Web searches and books I've read. In particular,
I wanted to visit the Cimitero Monumentale di Staglieno in Genova, after finding a small
booklet of pictures of some of the monuments at a yard sale a few years ago.

Another book, this one dealing with the (often hidden) meaning of
architectural features and designs in mediæval cathedrals and other
buildings, heightened my interest in the Byzantine influence in Italy. In
2005 (see pictures on this Web site from that trip) I saw the magnificent
Basilica of San Marco in Venice, and was impressed with how much the
Byzantine culture -- in those days, a world away down in Constantinople
(Istanbul) -- had shaped the design and decoration of that church.
Little did I know that Byzantine mosaics and motifs were lying in wait
all over Italy and Sicily. So I noted some of the most prominent
examples, along with other (to me) interesting things to see, and the
rest is history. (Well, in a way, it's all History.)

As you slog through these examples of Byzantine architecture and art, you might want
to keep in mind the "mother" of them all, Hagia Sophia, built in 537 in Byzantium
(Constantinople/Istanbul), the centre of the Byzantine style in the first place.
My visit to that unforgettable building in 2011 is recorded in pictures on this
Web site in case you need a refresher.

Sicily, 27-29 September 2014

After two days of travelling via San Francisco (which needed an overnight stay) and Frankfurt
(where I was thoroughly insulted by an immigration official) my first stop was Palermo.

The Chiesa di Santa Maria dell'Ammiraglio (aka La Martorana) is on the left.
It was constructed in the XII century. On the right is San Cataldo, founded
around the same time, much smaller, and less ornately decorated.
San Cataldo was used as a Post Office in the XVIII century.

In 1184 the Arab traveller Ibn Jubayr visited La Martorana, and pronounced it "the most
beautiful monument in the world." It's hard to argue that, even 830 years later.

The interior is a mixture of XII century Byzantine mosaics and later
additions of frescoes, plaster sculptures and other media.

Some distance outside of Palermo is the suburb of Monreale and its spectacular Duomo.

This is yet another structure (like the churches noted above) begun in the XII century.

This is the clearest example I had yet seen -- with many more to follow (see below) -- of the Byzantine-style
apse (half-dome structure) over the altar, inlaid with a mosaic, usually an image of Christ.

This church has an astonishing 6,500 square metres of mosaic.

Graffiti seen from the train on the way out of Palermo.
Presumably the artist gives apologies to Edvard Munch (1863-1944).

Taormina is, quite simply, magical, at sunrise or any time of day.

This is a PANORAMA picture. Scroll to the right (or enlarge your browser window) to see
the whole image. This is the view from my hotel room, overlooking the Isola Bella and the tiny
harbour at Taormina. As my regular readers (all three of them) will know, the "view from the hotel
room" is a regular feature of my vacation pictures web site.
More to come later in the trip.

The Chiesa parrocchiale del Cuore Immacolato di Maria isn't that old
(consecrated 1953). It's included here because of its quirky
front door. How's that for encouragement?

The Teatro Antico is arguably Taormina's most interesting venue.
It is still used for performances today, as this rehearsal-in-progress shows.
That mound in the distance, beyond the city, is Mt Etna, still an active
volcano. The summit of Etna is roughly 32 kilometres (20 miles) SouthWest
of Taormina. No-one seems worried.

The Teatro Antico, and the town of Taormina itself, are high on a hill above the harbour.
The theatre was constructed by the Greeks in the VII century B.C.E. and modified over
the centuries by later Roman inhabitants.

Roma, 30 September - 2 October 2014

I booked a 9-hour train journey from Taormina to Roma, and was very curious
how we would make the crossing at Messina, Sicily's closest point to the
Italian mainland. Would there be a bridge? (The land is only about 2 miles
apart at that point.) A tunnel? Would we disembark, take a small boat, then
get on another train? Surprise. They just ran the whole train (in two parts)
onto the ferry and carted it across to the Italian-side tracks.
(I really never would have thought of this!)

Any time you want train information in Rome's Termini station (or any of the
large cities), you wait for it, sometimes up to an hour or more. While waiting,
I noticed this sign, informing the public of the Trenitalia office opening
hours. Why on earth would they open at 06:33?
And it's not a typo -- it's on the sign in two languages!

On my previous visit to Roma in 2005, Pope (now Saint) John Paul II had just
died, so the Vatican was essentially closed, except for St Peter's Basilica.
I had to return in order to see the Vatican Museums, including the Sistine Chapel.
It was worth the wait. This is what Roma looks like from the Vatican Museum upper levels.

My cousin was right, even if a bit redneck, when she told me about ten years
ago after her visit that I shouldn't bother with the Vatican, "unless you like art".
The Vatican Museums are so chock full of statues, paintings, painted ceilings,
woodwork, &c., &c., that I decided just to choose one interesting ceiling, and
let you go and see the rest for yourself -- "if you like art!". This is in the Museo Pio
Clementino. Note the Egyptian sculptures around the painting. By the way, those aren't
horns on the central figure, they're sort of spiritual flames, I guess you'd say.

This monument on the Janiculum Hill commemorates the Risorgimento heroes
(1848-1870), some of whom died in this very spot. The words "Roma o Morte",
seen on the monument, were uttered by Garibaldi on this hill in 1862.

I commented on the Pantheon in the vacation pictures (this Web page) from
my 2005 visit. There's nothing to add, except that it's irresistible, and this time
around there wasn't any scaffolding and canvas inside to hide its beauty.

I also commented in my 2005 picture-fest on the fabulous Giolitti Gelato shop.
Equally irresistible. Sort of between the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain. Don't miss it.

Churches in Italy routinely have artwork by famous (to say the least) artists
of the Renaissance and other periods. This Bernini piece is in Santa Maria della Vittoria.

This chapel surprised me, I must say. Many cathedrals and churches have relics
(remains) of various saints, but few (in my experience) have whole skeletons laid out in full
view, let alone with a realistic effigy above it. This gentleman is (well, was) St Camillus
(San Camillo de Lellis, 1550-1614), venerated here in the Church of Santa Maria Maddalena.

Wowee-wow. This, to my way of thinking, rivals the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. It's a
mixture of painting and sculpture that literally climbs the walls to portray the Apotheosis
of St Ignatius of Loyola, in the church that bears his name.

The Column of Marcus Aurelius was placed here in the olden days -- 193 C.E., to be exact.

The detail on the Column of Marcus Aurelius is more amazing the closer you get.

The Basilica Sanctae Sabinae (Basilica of Santa Sabina) is both historic and
quite old. The apse artwork seen here is a 1559 fresco painting which by most
accounts is a faithful replica of the original V century mosaic. A door in the
church dates from 430-432. The church was the site of a papal conclave in 1287,
but the prelates left the church after a plague had killed six of them!
They returned the next year and elected Pope Nicholas IV.
[source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Santa_Sabina]

This inscription fascinates me, as it seems to be an ancient version of the
modern joke-plaque, "PLAN AHEAD", where the last A and D of the motto
appear to be squeezed in at the end, because the plaque-maker ran out of space
(having not PLANned AHEAD!). Take a look at the fourth line from the bottom,
where TRANSMITTER has the letters ENT added in small writing above the end of
the word. My guess is that someone noticed the mistake after the stone had
been cemented into the wall in 1726. Oops.

The Mausoleo di Santa Costanza is an example of a style that I find interesting
because it's so rare: the circular church. I believe there are only two in
Britain, and I only saw two in Italy, the other one being San Carlo al Corso
in Milano (see below).

This structure has stood here since the deaths in 354 and 360 of the two daughters of the emperor Constantine I.

Constantine I ruled from Byzantium, which, with all the humility he could muster,
he renamed Constantinople. (That name has evolved over the years into the city
we know today as Istanbul.) This mausoleum represents probably the clearest evidence
of how the Byzantine style came to be so prevalent in Italy: Constantine, the 57th
emperor of the Roman Empire, ruled from Byzantium and buried his two daughters in Rome.

Mosaics are placed in apses here, like other buildings with Byzantine connections.

This magnificent porphyry (igneous rock) sarcophagus (burial box) is a
replica of the original, now in the Vatican Museum, which contained the
remains either of Constantina or her sister, Helena.

The resting place of Constantina and Helena was probably located in this part
of Rome, because it was above the catacombs where St Agnes is believed to be
buried. A IV century Basilica for St Agnes stood on this site -- the ruins are
still there -- and a "new" Basilica was built in the VII century which remains to this day.
The apse over the altar in St Agnes retains the Byzantine style, again in mosaic.
The catacombs still can be visited from the church.

Orvieto, 3 October 2014

Orvieto is a completely typical Italian village, with a twist: the entire town is on a
table of land that avoided the millennia of erosion that created the valleys all around it.
In effect, it's a town on a pedestal. On arriving in the town centre by bus from the railway
station in the valley below, the quite unbelievable sight of the Duomo captures your
attention, and never lets go until you're miles away on your journeys.
The cornerstone of the Duomo was laid in 1290.

This façade is, quite simply, awesome, and the closer you get the more awesome it appears.

Only as you move around the town do you begin to realise that this is really
just another massive building that happens to have a magnificent front.

In the piazza of the Duomo, a dependable bell-ringer (don't have to wake
him up in the morning) reminds everyone of the hours and quarter-hours.

Orvieto is remarkable in other ways. The composition of the above-mentioned
"pedestal" on which it sits is such that excavating it is relatively easy,
without compromising any support for the buildings on the surface. As a result,
hundreds of caves have been dug over the centuries for various purposes, including
pigeon breeding, olive oil pressing (even during the cold winter months), and
escape when the town was under seige. It is said that every house in Orvieto
has a cave under it, now usually used for wine storage.
A fascinating tour called "Underground Orvieto" is offered every day except Christmas.

As noted above, you're never very far from the Duomo.

Ravenna, 4 October 2014

The Basilica of Sant'Apollinare in Classe sits serenely in open spaces several
kilometres from Ravenna. The bull seen here is a sculpture, no danger to the
tourists or the faithful on this Sunday morning.

The "Roman connection" seems clear from this statue.
The tower behind the general was built in the IX century, some 300 years after the church itself.

The Byzantine mosaic in the apse of this ancient church shows its age
by the fact that the centrepiece is a symbol -- a cross -- instead of
the large images of Christ or the Saints that are typical of later versions.

On closer examination we see a (relatively) small figure of Saint Apollinaris, surrounded by his
faithful symbolically represented as lambs. The apse decoration dates to the VI century.
(I trust I am not the only one who marvels at this longevity.)

This was a Sunday morning service. Apparently, the white-haired woman in the congregation
and the acolyte (in his Italian Reeboks) are distracted from the priest's meditation by
something going on outside.

It is easy to forget the fact that Italy still "remembers" the catastrophe of
World War II, and the alignment of their leaders with the Third Reich.
Stencil-graffiti reminds everyone that a return to that mentality is unacceptable.

Genova, 5-6 October 2014

This hotel-room view is a bit different from the others shown on this vacation "report".

Move a bit to the left, and we get a better view of the Piazza Principe Railway Station in Genova.
On a clear day, we could probably see the harbour.

This vintage photograph, on the wall in the hilltop hotel where I stayed, shows
pretty much the same scene as the one my picture above, as it looked (I estimate) around 1900.

Jokes and stereotypes about marriage are probably universal, though it
seems this poster might show that the Italians are a bit more honest than
other sugar-coated Western cultures. Face it: the "wedding day" is all about the bride.

It seems almost every church in Italy is a Basilica, and many of them were founded
and patronised in very wealthy times. The Basilica di Santa Maria Immacolata is nothing if not ornate.

On the other hand, the Basilica della Santissima Annunziata del Vastato looked to me
as if it were almost abandoned. I decided to go inside anyway and . . .

. . . this is what greeted my eyes.
Talk about not judging a book by its cover (or a church by its façade).

Annunziata was heavily damaged during World War II, as these pictures show.
Bomb damage in London was caused by the German Luftwaffe, as everyone knows.
I began to realise, here and at other bomb-damaged sites in Italy and Austria,
that unless it was "friendly fire", this damage was probably caused
by -- US! (i.e., the Allied Forces, commonly known as the "good guys")

This work of art in Santissima Annunziata seemed unusual to me as I examined it
close-up. It's not a painting! It's a "polychrome" -- a wood carving elaborated
with multi-coloured paint.

The dome at the crossing of Santissima Annunziata.

Genova - Cimitero Monumentale di Staglieno, 6 October 2014

If anything was motivating this vacation trip, it was this visit to the Cimitero
Monumentale di Staglieno, in NorthEast Genova. It opened in 1851.
The primary structure of the Cimitero -- Settore A -- is a quadrangle of triple
porticos. The main walkways are open to the central garden (to the left in this picture),
and have elaborate monuments over actual graves.

Behind the open porticos are two covered porticos with mausoleum-type cubicles
(seems like the wrong word) stacked five or six high.

Each of the monuments is situated in its own archway. This is the monument and
tomb of Giacomo Carpaneto, with its remarkable sculpture by Giovanni Scanzi (1886).
Like all the monuments here, it has been collecting dust and grime, probably since it
was erected. One can only imagine just how stunning these marble sculptures were when new.

In addition to dust and grime, some of these sculptures collect graffiti.
I can barely imagine the arrogance of someone who would carve his or her name on a
work of art marking someone's final resting place. (See below for an even more egregious
example of defacement on the effigy of King Edward II in Gloucester Cathedral.)

This grave is outside the main porticos, and is much more recent that most. I noticed
it because of the modern shoe sole on his left foot. Note also the photograph,
which is a permanent part of the memorial. The young man was 18 when he died in 1992.

Another memorial illustrates a generational difference. On the left is the traditional
black-and-white photograph of husband and wife who died in 1946. On the right is
(presumably) their son, in a much more informal colour photograph swimming in a pool
or lake, added to the family tomb in 2008.

Old-world Italy is still evident here and in many older buildings around the country.
I haven't seen toilets like the one on the left since I was in Taiwan in 1981.
And as for the pissoir on the right (found on one of the trails up the hill from the main
porticos; men only, obviously) the last time I saw one of those was in Amsterdam in 1986.
This one was rusted and corroded from years of neglect, but the water was still running.
I'll bet it was built a hundred years ago. (And it was a welcome sight, I have to say.)

The old image of grandma "turning in her grave" is unavoidable here.

Every public venue needs maintenance, I suppose, though it was not clear to me
just what was going on here.

Staglieno is very much an active cemetery. In addition to several burials going
on the day I visited, here some arrivals are waiting in line at the Crematorio.

The small relief sculpture seen here caught my eye when I first saw it, because
it is so much like the unforgettable World War II memorial statue in Philadelphia's
30th Street Railway station. (Click here to see the 1952 Walker Hancock sculpture, but
then please come back to continue this page!) I was impressed, until I noticed there are
scores, maybe hundreds of them here at Staglieno, as you can see in the background of this picture.

The burial areas are ever-expanding. Here we have niches for ashes on top of the portico walkways.

Staglieno is massive.

One of the most remarkable structures at Staglieno is the Cappella Raggio, designed
in 1896 by Luigi Rovelli for Commander Armando Raggio, to house the remains of
his wife. It is nicknamed "Duomo di Milano" for its similarity to the architecture of Milan
Cathedral (see below). To me, it looks like a structural tribute to the Italian cypress trees
that surround it.

Milano, 7-8 October 2014

The Milano railway station is a fortress of art-deco design.

This side view isn't as interesting as the front, but gives a better idea just
how massive the building is. Also, note the curious presence at the top centre of this
picture of the well-known wolf nurturing the infant twins Romulus and Remus. This is a
particularly Roman legend. I wonder why it was included here, in a city once completely
politically separate from Rome and some 575 kilometres (357 miles) away on the A1?

Oh, Mama (Burger). Imagine a neon sign like this one in the U.S.

Milano is one of the fashion capitals of the world, so I suppose they deserve an
upscale shopping mall. The Galleria Vittorio Emanuele.

Finally, I get to lay eyes on the Milano Duomo. I noted on the vacation pages from my
2005 visit how disappointed I was to see the entire front of the Duomo shrouded in
canvas and scaffolding. This view, despite the gloomy weather, made up for it.

This full-front view of the Duomo sets up the next picture . . .

. . . taken from a building on the North side of the Piazza. Never let it be said
that advertising cannot parody famous landmarks.

The detail on this building never ends. At the top of each spire is a statue.

It helps to remind myself that these buildings are in vibrant city centres, where people live and work.

This church not only has clear Byzantine influences, it commemorates San Babila,
a saint from Antioch in Turkey, the very source of Byzantine culture.

This mosaic, while recent, is part of a general renovation of the church (built
in 1095) to restore the appearance of the mediæval basilica.
Note the semi-Greek spelling of XRISTVS within the Latin inscription. Very Byzantine.

A Byzantine apse for a Byzantine saint.

Arguably Milano's most famous artwork is Leonardo's Il Cenacolo (Last Supper)
painted just before 1600 in the refectory (dining room) of the Convent of Santa Maria delle
Grazie, located just to the left of this, the church of the same name. Photographs are not allowed,
but if you need a visual reminder of this one, you've been living under a rock since it was painted.

Photographs are allowed in the church itself. The coro (choir) at the front
has some pretty amazing woodwork.

The walls above the coro have graffiti (literally, "scratchings") which were recently uncovered.

In case you can't figure this one out, it's the shattered door of a fast-food restaurant.

When a con artist at a money-changing booth told me the commission was 17% -- and lied
that everyone else charged the same -- I decided either to do without Euros or find another
place to exchange my dollars. Less than 30 metres away, I found this vintage bank, charging 3%
and offering some remarkable carved woodwork to keep me occupied while I waited.

I noted above my fascination for round churches, partly because they're so rare.
This is San Carlo al Corso, just a couple of blocks from the Duomo.

It's round outside and inside, with a ceiling reminiscent of the one in Rome's Pantheon, except no oculus.

Remember Leonardo's Last Supper? This is a much more recent version by Alberto Schiavi (born
1939) permanently installed in San Marco al Corso, first altar to the right.

Saronno (day-trip from Milano), 8 October 2014

This was one of the intricate artworks on my list (even though it's not Byzantine) so I
trained to Saronno to see it. That's God Almighty, popping out of the ceiling, a wood sculpture,
not just a flat painting. (This picture is from a billboard outside the church.)

Unfortunately, this is what I saw in Saronno's Santuario della Beata Vergine dei Miracoli
when I walked in and looked heavenward. Maintenance, while completely understandable,
is still disappointing.

Saronno's Santuario did have some interesting woodwork on the pulpit.

Padova, 9 October 2014

Padova is an elegant town, and someone took some time with the flower arrangements.

I noticed some interlopers on the balcony of my hotel (not my room, thank goodness).

The Pontificia Basilica di Sant'Antonio di Padova has a shrine to their home-town saint
which holds his relics (remains). The saint's body was originally "translated" (enshrined) there
in 1350, after his death in 1231. In February 2010, the casket was opened and the mortal
remains displayed -- an extremely rare event -- for the veneration of the faithful.
Yes, Virginia, there is a (quite explicit) YouTube video of the event.

This is another church where photographs are not allowed, but views of the outside
clearly show the Byzantine influence in the several domes in the roof.

I hesitate to criticise a sculpture in memory of Caduti della Polizia (Fallen Police)
but this is just one of the weirdest things I've ever seen.

(Travel Note: Padova to Wien on an overnight train in a sleeper compartment,
"room-service" breakfast included)

Sigmund Freud often walked from his nearby office to have coffee here at Café Landtmann.
My guess is that they didn't have night-time advertisements for Emirates Airlines back then.

Another theme of my travel pictures are these ever-present golden angels (e.g., the "Angel
de Oro" in México City). This sits atop the Johann Andreas von Liebenberg
Denkmal (Monument) across from the main building of the University of Vienna.

Votivkirche, with it's seemingly-transparent spires.

The Votivkirche is traditionally churchy, even though it was only built in 1879.

Totally unexpected in an Austrian church, here is an image of the Virgen de Guadalupe.
The original is on a cloak enshrined in México City and venerated throughout Latin America.

Unquestionably the highlight of my visit to Vienna, this carnival organ sat dark
and quiet all day (with its guardian statue keeping watch) . . .

. . . then suddenly came alive at about 8pm, with every instrument and pipe working like
it was brand new. As an unashamed aficionado of these instruments ever since falling under
their spell during summers in Balboa, California in the 1950s, I was entranced, thrilled.
What an evening! And home-made potato chips, too!

Vaduz, Liechtenstein, 12 October 2014

The approach to Liechtenstein is like traveling through another world.

The alps of Western Austria on each side of a fertile valley make easy art photographs.

My hotel, halfway up one of the mountains surrounding the capital Vaduz, was on this picturesque street.

And the view from the hotel room -- well, what you see here is probably about
two-thirds of the entire country of Liechtenstein.

Bern, 13 October 2014

This is probably one of the weirdest "view from the hotel room" pictures I'll
ever post, but that's exactly what this is. One step outside the door to my room in Bern,
Switzerland, is this scene -- when the door (to the theatre) is open.

The entrance portal to Bern Munster (construction began in 1421) is quite famous.

A closer look at Bern Munster's portal reveals astounding detail.

Bern shopping street, with town clock.

If you remember the mechanical bell-ringer of Orvieto (see above), then here's another one.
For the really observant, this guy will ring a bell (so to speak) reminiscent of the
two giants who do the same at St Dunstan in the West, Fleet Street, London.

What you see is what you get. The Kindlifresserbrunnen (Child-Eater Fountain) in Bern's
Kornhausplatz was created in 1545/46. A YouTube video, uploaded in 2013, claims,
"No Swiss children or tourists were harmed in the making of this video."
What I'm still wondering is, What does it mean? What is its message???

Leaving Bern railway station, I noticed these two billboards on opposite sides of the
tracks. Two different worlds, looking at each other.

Luxembourg, 14 October 2014

(arrived late, left early - no photographs)

Paris, 15-17 October 2014

My hotel in Paris was across from the Moulin Rouge, Montmartre.
Not all that elegant (nor expensive), but very centrally located.

Here's an unusual scene. All travellers in cities with Metros (underground trains, subways)
have seen and heard buskers. But a full orchestra? This was in the Châtelet Metro station.

Perhaps the ultimate up-scale McDonalds, in the rue Saint-Lazare.

In 1990, my late English friend introduced me to this historic restaurant, vintage 1896.
On every subsequent visit I have had a heck of a time finding it, but it's worth all the trouble.

Chartier is very reasonably priced (what??? in Paris???), and the food is great.

I thought Chartier was ancient, especially for a still-functioning restaurant, until I
found out about Auberge Nicolas Flamel. It is reportedly the oldest stone house in Paris,
built in 1407, and was a restaurant, of sorts, even then, operating as a hostel for the poor of
the city. Flamel himself, or more likely XVII century legend about him, figures prominently
in the first Harry Potter movie, one of two unforseen coincidences of this long trip which
(as you will see if you can stick with it) ends at the new Harry Potter theme park attractions
at Universal, Orlando, Florida in a couple of weeks. NOTE: Auberge Nicolas Flamel isn't
much bigger than what you see here, and the food is really great, so reservations are essential.

View from the Jardin des Tuileries looking West across the Seine.

This statue, Le Nil [The Nile], by Lorenzo Ottone (1658-1736) is
almost as strange (and inexplicable) as the Child-Eater Fountain in Bern (see above).

So, Antonin Mercié (1845-1916) makes his Monument a Charles Gounod (the composer)
for the Parc Monceau in Paris -- graceful, beautiful, and very XIX century.
[image from vintage postcard]

Flash forward 110 years, and the sculpture looks quite different. My question is,
who would want to take home a naked angel and a woman's right arm? Unfortunately, there
are lots of damaged statues in Parc Monceau, so maybe it's just vandalism.

Imagine this: it wasn't until my third (3rd) visit to Paris that I set foot inside the Louvre!
I recommend it, despite the hordes of tourists with phone-cameras who infest the place
like so many flies. Here, the Winged Victory of Samothrace (II century BCE, recently restored).

See what I mean about the insect-swarm of phone-camera tourists? I mean, why would anyone
need their own picture of this masterpiece -- oh, except to prove that they were there.
Now I get it.

Many people are familiar with Flandrin's Jeune homme nu assis a bord de la mer (1836), seen
here in its place in the Louvre (upper left). It is one of the most-imitated (aka most-parodied)
works of art, along with the Mona Lisa (also in the Louvre; previous picture) and Leonardo's
Last Supper (see above). An ambitious blogger, probably with a lotsa time on his hands,
has gathered literally scores of imitations. If interested, you can see the collection at
www.johncoulthart.com/feuilleton/the-recurrent-pose-archive/

Speaking of the Last Supper, here is the version by Joos van Cleeve (1485-1541).
Take a good look at this painting (you'll have to scroll to the right or enlarge your browser window
to see it all.) Notice anything strange? Not counting Jesus (center), how many apostles do you see?
What? Thirteen? OK, here's the deal. The guy on the far left is van Cleeve himself, in an
autoritratto (self-portrait) "signature". Not overly arrogant, eh?

The Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris isn't as large nor grand as Staglieno in Genova (see above)
but it's pretty large and grand. This is the still-controversial tomb of Oscar Wilde (1854-1900),
created in 1914 by Sir Jacob Epstein, himself a controversial artist. It is said that when
it was transported from England, where Epstein carved it, to Paris, it had to be covered
by a tarpaulin due to the Parisian officials' objection to the statue's nakedness, and that
Epstein had to bribe a guard at Père Lachaise not to look while he put the final
touches to the work. [There's more! source: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Oscar_Wilde's_tomb]

Over the years it became de rigeur for visitors to kiss the tomb after applying lipstick.
In 2011, a glass barrier was erected to make the tomb "kiss-proof" Obviously, it failed.

If nothing else, visitors now lipstick-kiss the glass barrier. Curioser.

The grave of the great French chanteuse, Edith Piaf (1915-1963), is much more traditional.
It is apparently always covered with flowers provided by the Friends of Edith Piaf, a testament
to her popularity some 50 years after her death.

Before you look at the artist/title plaque, take a guess as to who this graceful sculpture
depicts. Someone's beloved daughter? A super-delicate shepherd? A princess? No, it's
Saint Jean-Baptiste (St John the Baptist, 1883) by Alfred Charles Lenoir (1850-1920).

The Musée D'Orsay in Paris doesn't allow photographs (even though other museums
such as the Vatican and Louvre do), but I took this one anyway. (So sue me.)

You can't take photographs of the D'Orsay artwork, but you can use your camera in the
walkways and the restaurants. This is a view of Montmartre through the great clock in the
North wall. If you look closely, you can see the Basilique du Sacré Cœur at about 4 o'clock.

But why look closely, when you can zoom in to Sacré Cœur as I've done here!

Even the roof of the Musée D'Orsay ain't too shabby. Class, all the way.

Paris to Cherbourg to Rosslare (overnight), 18-19 October 2014

Instead of taking the Eurostar through the Chunnel from Calais to Dover, which I've
done before, I decided to go to Cherbourg and take the overnight ferry to Ireland (Rosslare),
then another ferry the next day from Rosslare to Wales (Pembroke). It was a good decision.
The Cherbourg-to-Rosslare journey was on a vessel named the "Ferry Oscar Wilde".
a tribute, no doubt, to Wilde as a revered Son of Ireland (he was born in Dublin). One
wonders, however, if the double-entendre was intentional, or just ignorant. I'll leave
it at that, except to note that the main bar on the ship was called the Gaiety Lounge.

Bath, Salisbury Plain (Stonehenge), Gloucester 20-21 October 2014

The ancient Roman city of Bath in SouthWestern England has that name for a reason.
The Romans found some natural springs there, and decided to clean up their act (so to speak).
Bath Abbey, founded in the VII century and rebuilt beginning in the XII century,
is seen towering above.

Bath, like most other British towns, has a modern shopping mall, including a
fabric store. In the window, old sewing machines are displayed, including this
brand that I had never seen before. My ancestors must have kept it a secret.

Everyone has seen Stonehenge (at least in pictures) up close. This long view,
along the approach road out of Salisbury, offers a great deal more perspective
on the wide-open Salisbury Plain where Stonehenge sits. (No tourist hotels or
observation decks here!) The view struck me on my first visit a few years ago,
but I couldn't get the tour bus operator to stop for a picture, so I went back this time in a taxi.

This is a PANORAMA picture. Scroll right, or enlarge your browser, to see the full image.
A british colleague of mine mentioned last year that I should not miss the Cloisters
at Gloucester Cathedral. You can see why.

Gloucester Cathedral is the resting place of King Edward II (1284-1327), one of only a
few royal burial sites outside of London. His remarkably realistic effigy lies over his tomb
and has suffered a bit at the hands of graffitists -- not the usual tourists or town
roughnecks, but, according to the placard next to the tomb, "thought to be
the work of the King's school boys -- in the 1700s."

On the opposide side of the Cathedral from Edward's tomb is this effigy of Robert Curthouse,
Duke of Normandy (c.1051-1134). On first glance, I wondered What's the deal with the
crossed legs? Later I thought maybe they represented him that way because he was a Knight?
It turns out that theory has been considered since the XVI century, but has since been
rejected. Now it is thought the "pose" was used by sculptors to give the impression of
"vigour". The effigy, by the way, is not marble, but painted Irish bog oak (wood).

London, 22-24 October 2014

(visited friends and British Library - no photographs)

Southwold, Suffolk; and Norwich 25 October 2014

The next few pictures will show a church I decided to visit on the East coast of Suffolk.
To get there, one travels through this tiny railway station in Lowestoft. Once again, in this
commemorative plaque, we are reminded of the horrors and hardships the British people
endured during World War II.

I traveled all the way out to Southwold, Suffolk, to see the Church of St Edmund,
King and Martyr, primarily for the mediæval graffiti preserved there.
Wait for it. I'll explain. The building dates from the mid-1400s.

Edmund became king at age 14, and was beheaded 14 years later, in 869, by invading Danes,
on orders of Ivar the Boneless and his brother Ubba. (I'm not making this up!) This statue
was erected in 1989 to fill an empty niche over the South Porch door.

Images of Edmund over the main altar show scenes from his short life.

The rood screen, quire and East wall.

The XV century rood (wooden) screen in St Edmunds is considered one of the finest in England.
Along the bottom are images of apostles that were defaced -- literally, their faces were rubbed
out, the origin of the word itself -- by the infamous William 'Basher' Dowsing (1596-1668), under
an order of Parliament in 1643 that "all Monuments of Superstition and idolatry should be
removed and abolished." Basher Dowsing's destruction of art is, in my humble opinion, inexcusable.
I've read that his own portrait survives in the Wolsey Art Gallery, Ipswich. Maybe someone
unscrupulous, someday, will rub his face out. Not me. Unfortunately, I'm scrupulous.

The hammer-beam roof with outstretched angels.

The organ loft (1889) has its own angels, these apparently musicians.

Here is one of St Edmund's interesting details. The stone grating seen here on the left of
the small walkway is the opening to an underground chamber designed, with the help of
clay pots, horse skulls and other sound-reflectors, to enhance the sound of the Choir in the
years (centuries) before electronic amplification.

The stalls in the quire are elaborately carved. According to the lay guide who bends your
ear whenever he smells a willing visitor, some of the carvings were removed many decades ago
because they were considered "too rude". This one is said to represent the pain
of a "mediæval toothache"!

At last we get to the reason for my visit. While reading about St Edmund's in the comfort of my
own home, I came across references to the mediæval graffiti still visible in the choir stalls.

The graffiti are said to be the work of schoolboys during the XVII century, when the church
was being used as a school. This panel appears to be dated "1661" (bottom, left of center).

Perhaps the boy-"artist" on this end of the bench wanted to be a sailor.
Apparently, the graffiti survive for the same reason that the faces on the rood screen are
still rubbed out many centuries after their obliteration: the philosophy of St Edmund's is
that this is how the church has evolved, and things should be left as they are.
(Thus spake my garrulous guide.)

The guide would not let me leave the premises without taking a picture of the original door
(the current porch was a later addition). He pointed out how the inside was carved to look
like folds of linen. The door is quite old, perhaps original with the building itself.

Southwold was a day trip from Norwich, which, of course, has its own fine cathedral.
This mediæval gateway leads to the cathedral close. (I've enlarged the small plaque on the
right of the gateway for easy reading.) As you can see, parts of this gateway are near 1,000 years old.

I've discussed, and depicted, Norwich Cathedral's "green man" in previous vacation
posts (see the August/September 2011 pictures, this Web page). At risk of repeating myself,
the "green man" was a pre-Christian image probably included in English churches as an
attempt to include (some would say replace) the previous, pagan, nature-centered beliefs of the
rural people. I showed one "green man" in the 2011 pictures. Here are two more from Norwich.

Alnmouth, Northumberland; and Alnwick Castle, 26 October 2014

Alnwick Castle in Northumberland has a long history, much of it arguably occurring in just
the last few decades, as many movies and television shows have been filmed there. Alnwick
is not an easy day-trip from anywhere, so I chose to spend the night in nearby Alnmouth.
No, this was not my B&B, just a charming rural scene nearby.

Approaching Alnwick Castle you will no doubt notice the Northumberland countryside.

The Castle itself is enormous, as an inhabited estate second only to Windsor Castle (and we
all know who lives there!)

This view of Alnwick looks more like what you will see when it's featured in films or television.
I became interested because I learned that the first season of The Black Adder (1983) was filmed
there. I later learned that it stood in as Hogwart's School in the first two Harry Potter films.
Coming here, just before going to the Harry Potter Theme Parks (not the official name) in
Florida, at the end of this marathon trip, was the second of the two unexpected coincidences,
which I will finally explain below.

The Barbican is the "front door" of a castle and as such often the most vulnerable.
We're standing in front of the first door, looking toward the Outer Bailey (the open space
between the outer walls and the Castle itself) through the second door. In between, the
walls are, in some places, seven (7) feet thick! Intruders caught in here with both doors
shut were . . . well, how do you say . . . screwed.

View to the North from the Inner Bailey of Alnwick. The Castle is at the left, the
outer wall in front hidden by the small hill on which the Castle is built.

Shrewsbury, 27 October 2014

On the way back to London to catch a flight home (with one little side-trip to Florida), I stopped
in Shrewsbury, one of my favourite English towns. While staying at the Lion Hotel -- where Dickens
and Shrewsbury home-boy Charles Darwin were among the more famous guests -- I concluded from
the inside architecture and furnishings that it probably was relatively old. I asked the
desk clerk if it was an XVIII century building. She calmly informed me that it was a
XVI century "coach house". That means that in fifteen-hundred-and-something,
people were already staying there. Boggling.

This pub signboard speaks for itself. See how many puns you can find, kids.

Now for a diversion from the usual items posted on my travel Web site, namely, an audio experience. Many of the trains stopping in Shrewsbury are destined for the outer reaches of NorthWest Wales, including the Arriva Wales train to Holyhead, the last land stop before hopping the ferry to Ireland. The journey takes roughly three hours. Here is a map:

To the untrained (i.e., non-Welsh-native) ear, the station announcement might as well be describing destinations in Eastern Europe or SouthEast Asia. This recording was made at 19:24 on 27th October 2014.

To help in your enjoyment of this weirdness (my apologies to the Welsh, who are, indeed, my ancestors!), here are the names of the stations the longsuffering announcer is reading:

Gobowen, Chirk, Ruabon, Wrexham General, Chester, Shotton, Flint, Prestatyn, Rhyl, Abergele and Pensarn, Colwyn Bay, Llandudno Junction, Conwy, Penmaenmawr, Llanfairfechan, Bangor, Llanfairpwll, Bodorgan, Ty Croes, Rhosneigr, Valley and Holyhead.

London, 28 October 2014

(again, no photographs)

Orlando, Florida (Universal Theme Parks), 29 October-1 November 2014

Back in the USA, more neon, less history. Live gators? Yeah, right.

After snapping the picture above, a simple turn to my right, and there they were. They weren't
all that lively, but they were live! Maybe my flash scared them.

Putzmeister? Obviously few people in this part of Florida know Yiddish!

Orlando's twin theme-parks are expensive, colorful and, above all, highly commercial.
For every "ride" (they call them attractions) there are at least five gift shops.
This is the entrance to Toon Lagoon.

I had to wonder whether anyone under 50 would know most of the cartoon characters
immortalised here. I included this for one of my readers, a big fan of Betty Boop.
My other two readers probably haven't even heard of her.

Blondie and Dagwood? Beetle Bailey? Grimm? They seem so "last century" now.

On the other hand, Hogwarts school is very XXI century, despite its mediæval time-frame.
I suppose now is as good a time as any to summarise the coincidences I mentioned above.
(Remember when you read about those last week? For now, I'll just mention them.
If you want more detail, fire up a Web browser and do your own research.)

First, there is Nicolas Flamel, original proprietor of the restaurant in Paris pictured
earlier in this journey. He figures prominently in the plot of the first Harry Potter
movie, and is even partly responsible for the "Philosopher's Stone" (known
in America as the "Sorcerer's Stone") of the title.

Second, as the first two Harry Potter movies used Alnwick Castle for location shooting, I felt
particularly connected, as I had just been there (Alnwick) three days earlier. I mentioned
this to the guy selling me my admission ticket, and he even pretended to be interested!

The view from Hogwarts toward Hogsmeade. Snow kind of makes you forget this is Florida.
The ten or twelve gift shops in Hogsmeade makes you remember again.

Hogwarts/Hogsmeade is only half of the Harry Potter experience at Universal. The other half
is in the adjoining park, separate admission required.

If you can demonstrate that you've paid twice, you can ride the Hogwarts Express . . .

. . . over to Platform 9-3/4 in King's Cross Station, then visit Diagon Alley.
(SPOILER ALERT: It was only days later that I noticed this play on
the word "diagonal". I'm not the sharpest Harry Potter fan on the block.)

Diagon Alley is invisible to "muggles" (non-magical persons), and there are no signposts
here to show where it is (a nice touch!). For those who can't find it, they can still enjoy London's
Piccadilly Circus.

For the muggles who do find Diagon Alley, they are treated to another dozen or so
gift shops and a few street performers.

The Harry Potter "lands" are relatively new additions to Universal's Parks.
The Simpsons street has been there a bit longer. How can you top Simpsons humour?

[To quote Homer}: "Donuts. Aaaaaaarrttthhll."

The original Universal Theme Park (in California) was an excuse to show off the back lot
of the actual Universal Studios movie company, so a tribute to Hollywood makes sense here.
What doesn't make sense, however, is the corner of Selma Avenue (Hollywood) and Rodeo Drive
(Beverly Hills). As for the choice of Selma Avenue -- a short and unimportant street
South of Hollywood Boulevard -- someone is pulling our proverbial leg!

On the other hand, the Max Factor building is quintessential Hollywood, not to mention
pretty fine Art Deco. (The original can be found Highland Avenue just South of Hollywood
Boulevard, as Google Street View™ proves.)

This store, however, isn't even close to Hollywood in real life. It's an example of
"programmatic architecture" -- buildings made to look like what they sell inside -- and
can still be seen at 5364 Wilshire Boulevard, in the Miracle Mile district of Los Angeles.
(Check it out on Google Street View™.)

And finally, the great Pantages Theatre brings us back to (real) Hollywood.
Of course, the real Pantages is in the middle of a block on Hollywood Boulevard (near Vine),
not angled at a corner like this, but who's counting? Most of the details here are strikingly
authentic. And after all, it's Hollywood. Chalk it up to "movie magic".
Compare this final Google Street View™, and good-night.